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ikeuverse · 7 months ago

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YOU'RE MY PROBLEM — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff, humor, suggestive WC: 11.6k+

WARNINGS: swearing, arguing, cheating, divorce, mention of drinking. slightly smut in that there is a section (albeit brief) describing almost – very almost – sex.

SYNOPSIS: for some people, it was a problem working as a nanny because of the fatigue and effort it required. but you loved looking after hajun. the only problem was his older brother, heeseung.

NOTES: idk what's going on, but heeseung's been on my mind a lot these days. 2nd plot in less than two weeks and he's the owner of everything! at first this was going to have a smut, but i felt it would be too long and idk if it turned out that well, so maybe it could happen in a second part that isn't even final. but that's it for now, i hope you like it!

masterlist

"What's your problem?" that intonation was already typical when directed at you, but it still never failed to send a chill down your spine.

Sighing, you got up from the living room floor and smiled at the little boy in front of you, trying not to focus your gaze on the man next to the sofa.

"Can't you do your job properly for once?" he said to you again as he followed you into the downstairs bathroom, and you tried to ignore him as much as possible to put the first aid kit away in the drawer and leave the room. But he blocked the door.

"Can you come out, please? I want to go through" you asked, looking at him for the first time.

"I asked you what your fucking problem is" he leaned over and gritted his teeth, now he could cuss since he wasn't next to his younger brother.

"And I asked you to leave" you leaned in too, almost touching the tip of your nose to his chin because of the height difference. This caught the man completely off guard and he took a few steps back, clearing the way for you to leave the bathroom and walk into the living room.

It wasn't a horrible accident, you weren't a terrible babysitter for nine-year-old Hajun. But his older brother, Heeseung, had been a pain in the ass ever since you first set foot in the Lee house.

And it wasn't as if you'd done anything because Mrs. Lee always praised your work highly and you even did a few extra periods just to play with Hajun or stay with him when there were family problems. These, more often than not, were your suspicions as to why the Lee family had hired a nanny for their youngest, and also why Heeseung seemed so down on life. Especially with you.

It was typical for him to make some sarcastic comment, and roll his eyes when you excitedly answered something his mother had asked. Or even mutter a swear word when Hajun chooses to go out with you instead of his own brother. Jealous? Or that intensified the anger Heeseung felt even more, you just didn't want it to be directed completely at you. In your mind, Heeseung was already like that because of something that happened in the family – and you'd always been curious to ask, you just didn't have the courage – so, because you were the only person who was easy to get along with apart from his mother and younger brother, the boy only had you to put it all out there.

You weren't such a bad listener, you could call Heeseung to sit down after your babysitting shift and tell him everything that was bothering you. Why he was so angry and, most importantly, why did he seem to hate you? Your memory tried to capture a moment when you could have given him a curt reply, a grimace or simply been rude, but no.

As soon as you arrived and introduced yourself as Hajun's new nanny, Heeseung just rolled his eyes and left the room.

"Don't worry about him, Y/n" Mrs. Lee smiled lovingly at you "Heeseung is going through a difficult process, I think he'll get better soon. He's sweet."

You hoped he would be. And you waited for months to see that Heeseung was still the same... Maybe his process would take forever and you would have been chosen to be his punching bag.

But one day it would get tiresome. Surely you knew that you would respond in full, even if you were afraid of losing your job because he might be able to get his mother's head around firing you.

Back in the living room, you smiled at Hajun when you saw the little boy smile at you too. Your gaze completely ignored Heeseung sitting in the armchair next to his brother.

"Come on Y/n, I was telling Seungie how I fell in the park earlier" the little boy had no idea what had happened minutes ago between you and Heeseung, and you preferred it that way. Your priority was always to protect Hajun and be with him.

You sat down next to him, feeling Hajun's small hands wrap around yours.

"So I went to play ball with some boys, but Y/n told me not to go barefoot because it could be dangerous for me" Hajun formed a pout on his lips as he looked away from Heeseung to his bruised knee, now completely clean and bandaged "And I didn't listen" Hajun looked at you now, showing his newly grown teeth "Do you forgive me, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course" you hugged him as he laid his head on your shoulder.

Heeseung huffed from the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair impatiently.

"Anyway, do your job properly next time" he got up and left the room, leaving you with Hajun as he climbed the stairs with his feet tapping.

You felt the younger man move beside you, looking into your eyes while still smiling. Hajun was an amazing child and you felt your heart sink every time you thought that, if it wasn't for you, he might be alone in this house.

Not completely alone, Heeseung worked in his room a few days a week and Hajun could ask his brother for help with anything, as he was extremely protective of the youngest. But if it wasn't for you, the little one wouldn't do his homework. He couldn't go out to the park in the next block, let alone go to the movies in the late afternoon because he was too bored to do anything indoors.

Thanks to you, Hajun had company every day. And that was the thought you had when Mrs. Lee hired you to keep him company.

"Ignore him" Hajun's voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to the reality you were in at that very moment. The little boy was already standing in the middle of the room "Heeseung is a pain in the ass when he wants to be."

"Hey, watch your mouth, young man" you laughed when he grimaced.

"Seriously, after—" Hajun sighed, looking at you "Never mind."

"You know you can tell me whenever you want, right?" you stood up too, walking over to him to ruffle the younger man's dark hair.

Hajun nodded, smiling at you and asking you to make him a brownie. Because he deserved it and he was hurting. This made you laugh because, although the mood changed drastically in that house, you knew that he always tried to take everything in good humor.

Hajun's slip in the previous few minutes only made you even more certain that something was going on, and your heart squeezed to see that he was aware of the problems within his own house even at his young age. So, more than ever, your determination to take care of him spoke louder. Because Hajun was your priority in that house. And that would always be the case.

With your head in your hands, you felt like screaming as you stared at the computer in front of you. Life as a university student was complete shit, even more so when you were forced to start a project and didn't even know where to begin.

Your two best friends were sitting right in front of you with their projects very well developed, but it was as if only your head was short-circuiting because nothing was good enough.

"You're going to tear your hair out soon" Jake leaned over the table to pull one of your hands away from your face, taking his attention away from his project.

"Can I rip my head off?" you almost cried as you looked at him, both of you looking away to Ryunjin sitting next to you.

"Why are you like this?" she asked.

"Is it because of the project?" Jake was already sitting properly in his seat, his eyes still on you and Ryunjin too. You nodded in agreement, swallowing dryly when the girl sighed.

"Or is it for someone else?" Ryunjin emphasized the question when she looked at you.

The table was now a little chaotic with Ryunjin peeking out with a smile on her lips, you trying to wiggle out of it and Jake looking between the two friends like a lost puppy.

"What the fuck is going on? Because I think I've lost something" the boy finally said.

"Heeseung, again" Ryunjin answered for you "He's still being an asshole to Y/n. Hasn't your little friend said anything worthwhile to let us know what happened?"

Jake opened and closed his mouth to answer but to no avail. He was a friend of Heeseung's, fortunately, or unfortunately, the boy went to the same university as you. Being Jake's friend, he once let slip that his mother was looking for someone to look after Hajun. And since you needed money... you could just combine the useful with the pleasant.

But your friend seemed to be as lost as you were, or at least he pretended very well. As one of Heeseung's best friends, it would be difficult for him to tell you if something was going on that could involve you. But he was also your best friend. This standoff with Jake could leave you confused and feeling bad on both sides, which is why you never pressured him to tell you anything.

"He's just having some problems" Jake tried to be vague on the subject.

"He's the problem, Jake" you closed your computer, giving up on working on a project you knew would come to nothing. Your head was full – unfortunately of annoyance about Heeseung – and nothing could make you concentrate on the moment "He was really rude to me last time, you know?"

He knew.

He listened to Heeseung swear for ten minutes about how you could let Hajun get hurt. Then he let his friend cool off and tried to argue that it wasn't your fault. Heeseung understood and even pondered whether he had been too hard on you.

"I... No, what did he do?" Jake nibbled his lower lip to suppress a sigh as he began to listen to everything he had to say.

From his perspective it wasn't your fault, Heeseung was too hard on you and anything you did. Sometimes Jake felt like telling you everything, telling you how many times he'd lost count by cursing Heeseung for his behavior. Or wanting to punch him just because his friend took out his frustrations on the wrong things.

"You need to talk to him to stop being like that with Y/n" Ryunjin caught Jake's eye, making him look at her "Or I'll shove some architectural material up his ass. Name one."

"A piece of concrete?" Jake frowned. He had no idea which materials were architectural, Heeseung did that course, not him. Jake was a computer scientist, just like Ryunjin.

She smiled with satisfaction at the answer and then looked at you.

"Now don't think about him and focus on your project, my love" Ryunjin reached out to touch your hand gently "I bet your designers are going to be amazing."

"We can't wait to see it" Jake also celebrated, taking your other hand and running his thumb over the back of it in affectionate contact.

Even with all the stuff going on in your life, the daily stress of dealing with the older brother of the little boy you were looking after, being in the presence of your friends seemed to cure everything and then some. Even though Jake was Heeseung's friend, that didn't change the way your friend treated you or how much he wanted to see you well.

Ever since these disagreements between you and Heeseung started happening, Jake made it clear to both parties that he didn't want to be a part of it. Ryunjin even complained once that she would be part of it and still defend you, but no one listened – thankfully.

After some time exchanging glances with your friends and smiling, you decided to focus on your project because, even if time was in your favor and the deadline was a month away, being prepared and ahead of schedule was your motto.

Taking advantage of a few vacant classes at college was perfect for going to a remote table on campus and working on whatever it was. These get-togethers with your friends were what got you out of stressful and bad times, even if you saw them on some weekends or in some classes. Just sitting there, chatting away regardless of the subject, made you feel a little better.

"Jake, dude, I finally found you" the voice took you away from your more peaceful thoughts and gratitude for your friends to focus forward. The boy whose name had been called stared after you with soft eyes, but as soon as he noticed your gaze on him, Jake's eyes widened slightly "Are you studying?"

Heeseung's voice was unmistakable to you. And at that moment you wanted to dig a hole and hide, or run out of there just so you wouldn't have the pleasure of bumping into the boy at his study table.

"Tidying up projects" Jake hissed, squeezing Ryunjin's leg under the table when he felt his friend move in her place. Her gaze was locked on Heeseung so angrily, yet the boy didn't notice, too distressed to find Jake.

"Can I join you here?" he asked "I need to finish some university homework and then we need to meet Jay for a game of basketball."

"Sure" Jake gave a small smile and beckoned Heeseung to sit down.

No. Not. Jake and Ryunjin were sitting next to each other, so the only vacant seat was right next to you.

Heeseung sat down without looking in their direction. He smiled at Ryunjin as a silent greeting, but she took it in her stride and ended up nodding at him politely after looking at you at the same moment Heeseung did.

The boy's eyes could come out of their orbs if it were possible, the way he opened them. Fidgeting uncomfortably on the bench next to you, he was in a bit of shock, even looking a little vulnerable given the circumstances that Heeseung always looked fierce when he was around you at his house.

"Y/n?" he asked, afraid that you were real.

"Hey" you said quietly.

He didn't know what to say, how could he forget that Jake was always with you on campus if you weren't with him? Why didn't Heeseung check out the people at that table before he sat down?

There were so many questions circling his mind that, as the boy saw you ignore him to open the computer and focus on your study, maybe he should do the same.

Focusing on his university homework while he waited for Jake to finish his project and then meet his other friends was what he had to do. All Heeseung had to do was answer a few questions that the teacher had given him in class and hope that his friend would finish as quickly as possible.

"Heeseung" Ryunjin called out after a while, her gaze flicking between him and you. You both looked very uncomfortable next to each other and it was so clear. Even more so after he arrived and didn't greet you properly, it wouldn't go unnoticed by your best friend.

"Hey, Ryunjin" he tried to smile amiably, almost feeling a shiver run down his spine when she leaned over the table, resting her elbows on the stone. She smiled strangely; he had seen it before when the girl was sarcastic or about to fight with someone. Was she going to fight with him?

"Is there concrete in your course building?" she asked.

Heeseung frowned in complete confusion. That question had no basis in fact, but at least she wasn't angry with him, so he could relax a little and not feel any more chills as the girl still stared at him.

"We have several, will you need them?"

"Yes" she said.

"Sure, but what for?" when Heeseung asked and Ryunjin was about to answer, you quickly closed your computer. Praying that everything was intact even with the small bang.

This startled the three at the table – even you – so you got up and grabbed your backpack.

"I remembered that I need to go with Ryunjin to the library, now" your emphasis was a complete answer to the fact that your friend would have to follow you. Jake was grateful that she obeyed, even if it was against her will, putting her things away as she picked up the backpack to leave.

"Why did she want concrete?" Heeseung looked at Jake after you and Ryunjin left, laughing quietly and focusing on the questions he needed to answer, missing his friend's gaze, which was a little shocked.

"I have no idea" Jake lied.

Or omitted, exactly. Heeseung didn't need to know the intentions of the girl who had ranted at him minutes before he arrived at the table.

Of all the things Heeseung wanted to put out of his mind, one was to know exactly where to find the person who had hurt him the most. Who broke up the perfect family he thought he had.

Heeseung wanted to be able not to remember the bar his father frequented, but here he was. Across the street watching the large glass windows, and inside the establishment, people were drinking and celebrating something.

He was drinking too. He was already on his third bottle and brought the glass up to his lips to finish off the bitter liquid which, at this point, no longer had any effect. Heeseung was focused on the male figure who was laughing and raising his glass of alcohol to talk to some other men. So this was how his father looked every Thursday night before going home. That's how Heeseung followed him one night, tired of seeing his father come home late only to catch him drinking in that damn bar, with a woman sitting on his lap who must have been Heeseung's age.

His father didn't see him he didn't want to cause a fuss and make his mother even more worried because, frankly, Heeseung was on the other side of town and late at night. But he couldn't hide it when he got home and told his mother. She was an amazing woman and didn't deserve the kind of thing that was happening right behind his back and that of the whole family.

Heeseung didn't know that he could feel as strongly repulsed by someone as he did by the man who, at that moment, staggered out of the bar with another woman hanging around his neck.

He felt nauseous, wanting to throw up the beers he had bought while his eyes stung and blurred. But the figure of the man on the other side who was dialing something on his cell phone was clear, waiting for the app car together with another woman. She was different from the woman Heeseung first caught him with, so his father was with a different one every time. That was even more disgusting.

"Let's go to my apartment, baby" he laughed out loud as soon as the car arrived, letting the woman get in first and him follow behind. Leaving Heeseung's sight as the car pulled away.

"Fucker" Heeseung kicked the glass bottle against the sidewalk to break it instantly.

The tears were already rolling freely down his face and he didn't care that he was crying, he'd held it in for so long since the last two days. He stayed in his room so that he could cry in peace without his mother or Hajun noticing. He didn't want to worry them because he was now the oldest male figure there. While his mother worked all the time at the company, Heeseung needed to be there for Hajun even if you were with him.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of Heeseung's cell phone, startling him briefly as he picked it up to see who was calling. His mother.

Involuntarily, a sad smile formed amidst the tears and he didn't think twice about answering the call.

"Hi son, where are you?" she asked on the other end of the line.

"I came for a walk" he struggled to keep his voice from sounding so sad and tearful, clearing his throat as he sniffled "Is everything all right? Do you need anything?"

"Everything's fine, don't worry" she laughed, making Heeseung laugh too. That laugh that he missed, knowing that it was slowly coming back "It's just that a great opportunity has arisen to close a deal with another partner in the company and I'm going to have to travel to the neighboring city for a week."

"And Hajun?" he asked.

"I've just spoken to Y/n, she's going to sleep at home" his mother just passed on the information, showing that the decision had already been made. And even if it wasn't, Heeseung couldn't do much since he knew that his younger brother needed the nanny's care. He couldn't be available to look after Hajun.

"All right" he said afterward, "I'm coming home."

"Okay, my son. Come back carefully, okay?" she seemed to be smiling as she spoke, which warmed Heeseung's heart "Be a good boy with the two of them at home, please."

"I will" he replied "Bye mom, I love you."

"I love you more, my boy" and saying that, she hung up.

Heeseung felt less bad about his mother's call, but he still couldn't forget the scene he had seen a few minutes ago. He knew that his mother was moving on and accepting the divorce as best she could, but Heeseung couldn't forgive the betrayal. The way his father had acted in the face of everything. He hadn't spoken to the man since he found out, choosing to ignore his calls and messages and telling his mother not to go to the university. Heeseung didn't want to see him. He'd rather pretend he'd never met or lived with a lying father than have to say anything to the man.

Maybe he needed to go home like he said he would. His head was already beginning to buzz with disparaging and angry thoughts, which he wanted to get rid of quickly.

A hot bath and a video game were all Heeseung needed at the moment to feel cleansed of everything he had witnessed that day. Not that it had been much, but he hadn't come home from university. He hadn't arrived at the same time as Hajun from school so that he could have lunch with him. Heeseung wandered around every familiar corner until he stopped at an app car and went straight to that damn bar. Now it was time to get another app car and go home.

Heeseung felt angry with himself for letting anger take over every fiber of his body, while he could do the same as his mother. Or even Hajun, who was already asking less about the man daily. Perhaps the younger brother wouldn't even remember his father if he wasn't mentioned, and the elder wanted it that way. He wanted his brother not to have the proximity he had to see how disgusting and untruthful the man who once lived with them was.

"Thank you" Heeseung thanked the driver as soon as he pulled up in front of his house, getting out of the car and waving quickly.

He took slow steps to the front door to see that everything was dark, you had probably already put Hajun to bed and that would be a relief. The two of you would be asleep and you wouldn't see the deplorable state that Heeseung had arrived home in.

In as much silence as he could manage, he unlocked the door and opened it, then locked it and looked around. Absolute silence inside the house. It brought Heeseung a little peace to think that the motherfucker he had seen earlier would never set foot in his house again.

He took off his shoes and the jacket he was wearing, throwing the garment on the sofa and feeling his body begin to tire. His throat was dry from the beers and from crying, his eyes would surely swell up because of it and Heeseung always forgot that fact. It was a pain. So maybe a little water would at least save his throat; he'd deal with his morning appearance later.

Heeseung walked to the kitchen only to feel a scream escape his mouth as the fridge door slammed shut.

"Fuck" he put his hand over his chest as he looked at your equally frightened figure. You had also let out a little scream, but he only heard his own because his ears were ringing "Why is everything out?" he asked when he saw you moving away from the fridge.

"I thought you'd already arrived, I didn't want to disturb you" you held up the bottle of juice, probably something you'd drink while you were there until you fell asleep.

Heeseung just nodded and walked over to the light switch, squeezing his eyes shut along with you when the brightness hit. It didn't take long to get used to it before he looked at you, swallowing dryly as you looked back at him.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. Heeseung was going to ask why but forgot that his eyes and the tip of his nose were probably red because he had been crying.

Shit. Continuing with the light off could have been better.

"I don't want to talk about it" he replied immediately, his nervous tone returning as Heeseung looked away from you.

"Heeseung—"

"You're here to look after Hajun, right?" turning to look at you, Heeseung felt his eyes misting up again. He didn't know why he felt like crying while standing in front of you, one of the only people he didn't want to show himself vulnerable to apart from his younger brother and his mother "So why don't you do your job, and stop asking questions?"

For a split second, Heeseung saw your shoulders slump, the bottle of juice resting on the sink and your lips parting to say something. He blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling.

"What's your problem?" you finally said to him, your chest aching and your heart beating fast from nervousness "I have no idea what's happened to you" with each word, you took a tiny step towards him because Heeseung was blocking the passage from the kitchen worktop to the main door to leave the room. You had no choice but to approach him "But don't take your frustrations out on me!" you wanted to shout the last sentence, but out of respect for Hajun and for him being asleep, all you did was poke his chest a little harder. Pushing your index finger in there.

Heeseung closed his eyes as he felt your finger pushing him, but before you could push him away, he grabbed your hand.

Your eyes widened at him because that was the first touch the two of you had shared since you started working at the Lee family home. His fingers were warm against your wrist and you wanted to struggle to get out of his grip, but without a doubt, Heeseung was stronger and faster. Pulling your body against his and wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It would be foolish to ask what or why, and even more foolish to try to get out of there because with every reluctant movement you made, he pulled your body even tighter against him. He tilted his face towards you, lowering it enough to touch his forehead to yours, and you took the opportunity to lean in and meet his lips halfway.

The touch of Heeseung's lips was soft, his tongue pressing against your bottom lip was electrifying and when he wrapped the muscle around yours, you could taste the lingering taste of beer in his mouth. It wasn't as if you'd never drunk before, but feeling the alcohol in someone else's mouth, Heeseung's had made your whole body shiver.

He pulled your body closer until his big hands and firm fingers pressed your waist to your butt. Giving small touches to your thigh, he wanted to signal you to jump into his lap, and without disobeying you did so, already knowing that your butt would be in contact with the cold marble countertop in the kitchen.

Your legs wrapped around Heeseung's waist and body to pull him closer while you lost yourself in his lips. It would be a lie to say that he didn't notice every detail of your face, and you would also be a hypocrite to say that you didn't look at him a little more closely when he wasn't looking at you. But feeling the softness of those lips that were always frowning in your direction was wonderful.

Heeseung lowered his lips to your chin and kissed down to your jaw, then down to your neck, and like a damn pro, he hit exactly the spot that made your whole body shudder. Your reaction couldn't have been different, letting out a sly moan and clamping your legs even tighter around him. When Heeseung's body tightened between your legs, he instinctively moved his hips towards your, thrusting his hips to give your better friction between his legs.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at each strand while your mouth worked wonders on his skin down to his collarbone.

He moved his hips again, this time you could feel Heeseung's semi-hard cock pressing against your pajama-clad pussy. Moaning once more, you tugged on his hair as he lifted his head to kiss you again.

It was breathtaking how he felt between your legs, taken by your lips and touching your body with his fingertips. Your waist was perfect, fitting exactly between his palms as he pressed you even tighter against him. It was Heeseung's turn to moan against your lips when you planted your feet on his lower back to press Heeseung's hips even tighter against yours, nibbling on his lower lip to catch your breath.

"Y/n" he moaned your name and you almost whimpered and asked him to rip off all your clothes and fuck you right there. Heeseung would do it for sure, you wouldn't even think of denying it because of the way he was squeezing every curve of your body and chasing his lips to kiss you again.

If it hadn't been for the incessant crying upstairs. The two of you separated for a few seconds to see if you had heard the same thing. Heeseung's eyes traveled to yours and then to the kitchen door, hearing Hajun's crying again.

With great difficulty, he climbed out from between your legs, feeling the loss of contact grow cold between his fingers as he took a few steps back and took your hand to help you down from the worktop. Heeseung looked at you a little better this time. Lips reddened and the skin on your neck the same, a few bite marks he'd left while kissing there made him smile a little sideways as he saw your eyes go down to his cock.

"Oh" Heeseung threw his oversized blouse over it, even though it only covered half of his lower body, but he couldn't stop it.

You'd even tease him about how beautiful he looked with his hair messed up – by you – and his red mouth too inviting to keep kissing. But Hajun had called your name, taking you away from all the unholy thoughts you were having in the kitchen with Heeseung.

"Shit" you turned away from Heeseung and watched him throw his head back, as frustrated as you were to get it over with as the two of you ran to the top of the stairs. Climbing each step a little faster until you entered Hajun's room and were followed by his older brother "Hey, I'm here."

"I had a bad dream, Y/n" he was crying, hugging your body quickly as soon as you sat on the edge of the bed.

You kissed the top of Hajun's head and looked at the door, beckoning Heeseung to come in too. And so he did.

"Hey buddy, are you okay?" Heeseung knelt beside the bed where you were sitting with Hajun.

"Seungie" the younger man pulled out of your embrace, this time choosing to hug his brother, "I had a bad dream."

"Do you want to tell us what it was like?" Heeseung asked.

Hajun remained quiet for a while still hugging Heeseung, probably calming down from the fright he'd had as he got out of his brother's arms and lay back on the bed. You dried the stubborn tears from his face with such a gentle touch, that it made Heeseung wonder if you would have done the same for him if you had seen him cry earlier.

What kind of fucking thought is that, Heeseung? He pushed any thoughts of this aside and focused on the scene in front of him, seeing that Hajun looked a little calmer as he sighed.

"I dreamt about my father" the mention of the man, made Heeseung's jaw clenched, and he wanted to curse himself so much for seeing that your eyes were on him now. Surely this could come up as a topic of conversation or, worse, now you could find out about his father. And that was a subject Heeseung didn't want anyone to know about.

"And do you remember what it was like?" you asked.

"Never mind, Hajun's tired—"

"He fought with me in the dream" Hajun interrupted Heeseung who was already on his feet, he didn't want to pace around while listening to his brother's dream "And then I saw him beating up Seungie and leaving the house with my favorite teddy bear."

Before Hajun could cry again, you grabbed one of his hands and kissed it.

"It was just a dream, it won't happen, Junie" trying to reassure the little boy that it would never happen was easier than you thought. He smiled at you.

"Promise you won't let it happen? That you'll look after me, but Heeseung too?"

Hajun's eyes were so pleading and piteous. You wondered if Heeseung did the same thing when he wanted something. But also, you wondered why that had been said. Why had Hajun asked you to do that kind of thing?

Your lack of words made Heeseung restless, moving from side to side until he went to the bedroom door. Perhaps you had been clear in your attitude that you were only there to look after Hajun. He just didn't know why it was bothering him so much, leaving a slight tightness in his chest. It could be because of his brother's dream, of course! That was it, wasn't it? Or was it his lack of an answer?

Heeseung didn't want to think too much, he didn't want to let anything get to him. But he was completely wrong when standing in the doorway of Hajun's room, he heard you.

"I promise, Junie."

If before it was inevitable not to look at you while you were around, now it seemed impossible for Heeseung to look away from you. Even having to spend a whole week with just you, him, and Hajun.

The boy had the vivid memory of your lips against him in that kitchen every time he saw you say something. Your mouth moved to answer something his younger brother or talk on the phone to his mother because she called and wanted to know if everything was okay. Heeseung wanted to curse himself for remembering the sounds you made and how he felt when he got between your legs. It might have sounded pathetic to any guy who said it out loud, especially if it was about you.

He'd certainly heard half an hour of Jake's lecture about what had happened, especially as he didn't dare to say much afterward.

"She thinks I'm an idiot, then?" Heeseung asked.

"More than usual? Absolutely" Jake wanted to throw anything in his hand at his friend's head, especially after he saw the gleam in Heeseung's eye when he talked about you.

It was clear that all that denial was turning into attraction and Sim knew it would, he didn't read the silly novels that Ryunjin pushed at him for nothing, something would have to do and sure enough, it was the analysis he'd done on your – unofficial – relationship with Heeseung. Something he kept quiet until his older friend opened his mouth and told him everything.

At first, the kiss had been something that had shocked Jake, after all, Heeseung couldn't spend two seconds next to you without an argument breaking out. But as he went on to tell you about the events and how he had been acting around you during that week, something in Jake clicked. It wasn't necessarily a crush, but something in Heeseung about finding you attractive or starting to take a romantic interest in you.

"That's got to be a joke, doesn't it?" Heeseung turned to Jake and then looked at Sunghoon, another friend of the two of them who always listened to the lamentations and frustrations about how Heeseung had argued – again – with you.

"Firstly, you didn't deny it at any point when Jake talked about you being attracted to Y/n ever since we arrived" Sunghoon leaned back even further in the café chair, holding back a smile when he saw his friend's eyes go wide "Secondly, you kissed her, like, do you do that with someone you can't stand?"

Heeseung wanted to say yes, that was exactly it. It would be normal to kiss someone he can't stand, right? But the question would be... Why can't he stand himself?

After keeping quiet for a while, he tried to forget how right his friends were because he didn't want to dwell on something he was struggling to forget, especially since his mother's week away was over and that meant you'd be going back home. No more seeing you at home all the time, at least not alone. This would give him time to think more calmly and put all his thoughts in order, which could make him even more confused if it were possible.

Sighing heavily after returning from university, Heeseung just wanted to throw himself on his bed and forget about all that mental confusion for the next few days. Isolate himself, do his homework, and pretend you weren't downstairs in his house. Maybe that would be easy. Maybe he could ignore it a little and try not to run around looking like an idiot in front of you because he's had a whole week, uninterrupted, to say a single word to you. But no, Heeseung couldn't.

At least he said good morning and smiled at you every day while you were with Hajun, right? You shouldn't smile back, you shouldn't make him almost scream internally because you were being nice to him.

Shit, Heeseung. You sound like a teenager, you idiot. He might even have continued talking in his head if it hadn't been for the voices coming from the living room.

Heeseung didn't want to think that he had arrived at his house after you and that he would see the scene of you fooling around with Hajun. He tried to run as far as he could when Jake gave him a lift so he wouldn't have to wait for you to get home and have lunch with you. At least not that day. But to the boy's surprise, the voices were much more different than his own.

And he knew – unfortunately – who it was.

"Look, you're here" in the old days, Heeseung would have given anything to hear that voice cheerfully after coming home from school, perhaps if he were in eighth grade again. But coming home from university with a sick feeling in his stomach, he just wanted to throw up as he looked at his father.

"Son" his mother got up from the sofa where she was, not so close to his father, and they both seemed to be having an amicable conversation before Heeseung arrived.

"What are you doing here?" he asked directly to the man who was trying to smile in his direction.

"Your father called me yesterday, he misses you and Hajun" his mother had the sweetest voice of all, and on any occasion. Heeseung wanted to ask her how she was feeling in the presence of that man. It was impossible to have such a beautiful smile and calm voice after everything he had done.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he knew that his pent-up anger would come out somehow, he just didn't want to explode in front of his mother. At least Hajun wasn't there.

"I asked your mother to spend a weekend with you and Hajun" he took a step forward to try to get closer to Heeseung. The boy did the same, mustering the only ounce of sanity he had not to slam his fist into the man's face. Unfortunately, it was still his father.

"I won't, and you won't get Hajun out of this house."

"Heeseung" his mother called out.

"What's your problem, Mom? Really?" Heeseung turned away from his father and walked to the middle of the room to approach his mother. It was almost like a plea when he let out, "After everything he's done, you still have the nerve to let him in and allow this? No!"

"He's still your father, my son" she smiled weakly "And it's only a weekend..."

"No" he said.

The protests could continue, Heeseung knew that this discussion would be so long that they would spend hours in that room. They shouted and protested that they wouldn't leave, but the door opened quickly.

Hajun's hurried footsteps and the conversation he was having with you were the reason the three of them shut up immediately.

"I can't do without this ice cream, Y/n. Please" Hajun whined. When you laughed, it was the only thing that could make Heeseung relax his shoulders, even if he didn't want to admit it. The sound of your laughter so close up awakened something in him.

"We can go to the other side of town after you've done your homework" you said, making the little boy giggle. Okay, maybe you were right, but he'd still convince you to go across town to the best ice cream parlor you and he had visited last week.

"Dad?" Hajun was the first to enter the room, looking at the scene before him. Upon hearing this, you took a few more hurried steps behind the little boy to be equally shocked by what you were seeing.

The father of the Lee family was there, for the first time since you started babysitting Hajun. Mrs. Lee had a small smile when she saw the little boy go towards her to hug him affectionately. But what caught your eye was Heeseung's furious look. That look you knew because it was the only thing you saw all that time, except when he looked at Hajun or his mother.

So Heeseung was angry at his father, the man who was smiling at you at that moment.

"Hello, you're..." he tried to make conversation when he saw that no one would say anything.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, Hajun's nanny" you approached to greet the smiling man, smiling too. But as soon as your hand almost touched him, a strong tug on your wrist made you stagger backward.

Your eyes quickly searched for the reason to find Heeseung already looking at you.

"Come up with Hajun, please" he ordered.

"Heeseung..."

"Not now, just go up with him" he whispered when he saw that Hajun was engaged in an awkward conversation with his father and mother "And stay there as long as you can."

"Are you okay?" Heeseung didn't want to have another clash of feelings at that moment, especially with your gaze so intensely on him. So he just nodded quickly and looked away to the other three.

"Junie, go upstairs with Y/n. I heard you need to do your homework..."

"But I wanted to meet the babysitter and, well, spend some time with your brother" the older man seemed quite nice, but if that was the reason Heeseung was clenching his hands into fists, it was certainly a false front.

"Hajun, go with Y/n" was the older brother's final word, and from the way the little boy didn't even question it, you knew it was something much more delicate.

As a silent apology, Mrs. Lee waved to you and Hajun before going upstairs to the youngest's room.

"Do you want to take a shower before you start your homework?" you asked, going to his closet to get some clothes that were more comfortable than his school uniform.

Searching for some sweat shorts and a T-shirt, you turned towards him to see Hajun's eyes redden and shine. Running up to the little one, you knelt in front of him before feeling little arms encircling your neck.

"Hey, hey, hey... Are you okay?" you whispered as you hugged him, sitting down on the floor to welcome the little one into a tight embrace.

"I don't like it, Y/n... I don't like it."

"What? What don't you like?" as you asked, your hands went straight to the little one's hair to stroke it as you let him cry in your embrace.

Hajun cried silently for a few minutes, sobbing softly as he felt a little safer in your arms.

"The last time Dad was here..." he sighed between whimpers, lifting his head a little to meet your face "He and Heeseung had a nasty fight, but neither of them knows that I know."

"Your mother knows?" you asked, Hajun agreed.

It was the night the betrayal came to light that Heeseung didn't want to put his mother through all that lying to sustain a marriage that was only for her. His father had been gone for a long time, or at least trying to maintain an appearance that didn't exist.

Hajun was supposed to be asleep that night, but Heeseung's furious shouts woke him up, causing him to get out of bed and open the bedroom door with a crack. Hearing the swearing and shouting, he also heard something. It sounded like a struggle. Mrs. Lee's crying aroused Hajun's despair and he almost went downstairs to see what was going on, why Heeseung was cursing his father. Hajun had never heard his older brother swear like that.

But before he could go downstairs, his mother stopped midway with watery eyes and a silent plea for him to go back to his room.

"Stay here, okay? And don't tell them about it" Hajun knew something was very wrong because he had never seen his mother cry. And after a few minutes, the fighting seemed to stop.

The front door slammed hard and then Hajun tried to forget what had happened for so long until he only remembered after seeing his father's figure standing there in the middle of the room. They were flashes of the small event that was much bigger, and it made you even more curious because Hajun's words were few, even though they contained a lot of information since you were left in the dark when you arrived.

At least there was something to know, but it wasn't as if you needed to ask him everything either. You just wanted to protect him and you would do that, the questions could come later.

"God, dude, stop drinking" Jake whined as Heeseung poured himself another glass, ignoring his friend's protests.

"Why?" he asked "As far as I remember, we came here because I'm sad and I need to get drunk."

"Drunk is fine, but not to the point of vomiting" Jake took another glass away from Heeseung "I'm taking you away and I don't want anyone vomiting in my car."

It was a fair point, but Heeseung didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He wanted to forget the last few weeks.

He wanted to forget that, unfortunately, his father had had a shitty, friendly talk with his mother, agreeing that he would take Hajun away for at least one weekend to go for a walk or do something nice. Even if the boy's fights and constant swearing came to nothing. He knew he couldn't stop it, not legally, so as long as nothing happened to the little boy, Heeseung vowed not to speak a word to his father.

Then he became even more frustrated by your presence in his home, and this was because, as the days went by, he realized that he could feel something. Not even the slightest something for you. But what he didn't count on was the fury that went through his whole being when he saw you laughing with a boy in the university cafeteria. Heeseung hardly ever saw you there, or if he did, it was always with Ryunjin, so why did it bother him so much?

The last fact had been a state secret, none of his friends knew anything about it. So they attributed Heeseung's bad mood and sadness to the events with his father and how powerless he felt to let Hajun meet the man he hated most on the face of the earth.

"I might as well go home alone" Heeseung flashed all his pearly teeth in a childish grin when Sunghoon arrived with a few more glasses.

He was such a savior of the fatherland, making his sad friend, who just wanted to get drunk at that moment, happy.

"So why did you ask me for a ride?" Jake raised one eyebrow, smiling "Why did you say you wouldn't drive and I was supposed to take you back home?"

"Because you love me and would do anything for me" Heeseung picked up another glass and turned away from Jake to drink.

There was no point in arguing or stopping the tallest boy from drinking that night, not even Sunghoon could do it. The only way out was to surrender and let Heeseung enjoy as much as he could, even if Jake sneered every time the glass was against Lee's lips.

He wondered what the car would look like if it swayed too much while he was taking Heeseung home, or what he would look like in the back seat or even in the back if he had to take Sunghoon too.

And it was this scene that Jake found himself in, a few hours later, as he carried his two best friends out of the bar. Sunghoon was in the driver's seat to guide the way while Heeseung sat in the back seat, his legs wide apart and his head resting against the back of the seat.

Jake looked in the rearview mirror, afraid that some fluid would come out of Heeseung's mouth or that he would have to stop abruptly so that his friend would run off and vomit. But no, the journey continued normally until the three of them stopped in front of Lee's house. Meanwhile, Heeseung's mind was far away. Closed eyes had been a plague on his life for the past few weeks because every time it happened, your face would appear in his mind. It was something Heeseung tried at all costs to ignore. Something he swore to himself that if it happened again, he would have to take action.

And it was impossible not to think about you after the last scene he saw, your smile at that other boy still played like a memorized movie in his mind and even if you hadn't meant it, Heeseung had no right to feel that way. He was the one who had been a jerk to you all along, you couldn't be expected to be sweet to him about it.

"Heeseung" Sunghoon called out, turning back to touch his friend's knee. He opened his eyes slowly, getting used to the idea of seeing his friend's face and not his own in his thoughts.

"What's up?" he asked as soon as he was off the bench and sitting properly.

"We're here" Jake said, turning off the car "Do you want us to go in with you?"

A while of silence was enough for Heeseung's mind to wander even further and, without realizing it, it had already come out of his mouth without giving him a chance to regret it.

"Take me to Y/n's house."

"What the fuck?" Sunghoon almost shouted. Jake turned around abruptly, almost hitting Sunghoon head-on.

"Dude, what the fuck? Why are you asking me this?" he asked.

Really, why was he asking this? Heeseung didn't have an effective explanation for it, much less did he think he should. He just felt like it.

"I don't know, I just need to see her now and..." a long sigh came from his lips, Heeseung allowed himself to run one hand through his hair as he looked at Jake and then at Sunghoon "I need to make up for the shit I've done and tell her that I can't stop thinking about her."

"Oh" the two friends said at the same time, Jake swallowing down the urge to shout and say that it was all part of the little novel he'd written in his head about you and Heeseung. But that would be something for future conversations.

"Only if you tell me something" Jake said.

"Whatever you want to know" since everything was screwed up, there was no point in hiding anything from his best friend.

"Your father wasn't the only reason we were at the bar hours ago, was he?"

The shy smile that Heeseung tried to hide by biting his lower lip said it all, he didn't need a specific word for Jake or Sunghoon. It was clear how exactly that said that you had also been a reason, even if neither of them knew what it was.

Seeing Heeseung like that was new for the two boys sitting in the driver's and passenger's seats, so all that was left was for Jake to start the car again and drive to your apartment. Without asking Heeseung any questions about it.

But nothing stopped Sunghoon from making fun of him the whole way.

Words of encouragement were a mantra in the boy's mind who, with every step into the building where you lived, felt his whole body tremble. It was strange to be feeling this way, even more so for him who had never been this attached. Heeseung had never really thought that a girl could make him so nervous that he almost tripped over his own feet as he entered the elevator.

What could he say to you when he knocked on your door? That he wanted to see you? That would be something you wouldn't believe, even if it was the only truth he could tell you.

It made Heeseung rethink everything he'd ever said to you and the way he'd treated you since he met you. He didn't mean to be rude and he knew that it was all a reflection of what he had experienced with his father's disagreements. You, unfortunately, were the only person around and he didn't want the sight of someone new coming into his house. Because the last person to come out from under that roof had made a huge stranger in his life.

Heeseung didn't want to give in to someone like you, who came so easily into the Lee family's life and won over even his mother. The way she talked to you, the way she treated you like a member of the family. Heeseung rolled his eyes every time his mother brought the same candies, but not just for him and Hajun, she brought them for you too. Or how affectionate she was with you when you were at his house, chatting like old friends and laughing at things he didn't understand. He didn't want to understand why his mother was so happy after finding out she had been betrayed while Heeseung was suffering and disgusted by his father's image.

It was something he hadn't understood until recently. Maybe all the answers were right in front of his eyes, he just didn't want to accept it yet. So he needed to throw his hands up in the air and knock on your door right then and there, and that's exactly what he did.

He didn't know how you would react and he didn't want to, just looking at you would be enough for him to smile and walk away. Maybe apologize and say some lame excuse the next day and hope you believed his words.

Heeseung heard footsteps from inside the apartment and some mumbling that you were already on your way, indicating that you weren't ready for visitors or were far enough away to answer the door. Apprehension gripped his entire body as he took a few steps closer to hear what was going on inside.

As soon as you opened it, finishing putting on one of the sleeves of your long coat, Heeseung's world seemed to stop right there.

You were beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen you before. Sharing the same roof with you for a week when his mother went away gave him the right to see you in your pajamas practically every night, but he didn't know that you looked even more beautiful in light silk pajamas and wearing a wool coat to cover your exposed arms.

"Heeseung?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked at your face, the shock and curiosity screaming in your eyes making him feel euphoric. He didn't know what to say as he saw that you were still standing there, slightly startled by his presence.

He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. It was as if Heeseung had unlearned how to say anything because your gaze was making him shy.

When you took a step towards him, as if to get the attention of the boy in front of you, Heeseung didn't reason enough. He just raised one of his hands to touch the wool of your jacket and pulled you forward. The slow thud of your body against his made you let out a startled cry, which soon calmed down when Heeseung looked you in the eye.

"Jake gave me your address," he whispered "I needed to come here."

"Why?" your low voice sent all kinds of sensations through Heeseung's body and he wanted to be able to run away, but he limited himself. Squeezing his fingers against the wool of your jacket and loosening the fabric little by little.

"Because I want to talk to you, can we?" it was your time to deny it, tell him to go home and carry on without talking to Heeseung because a conversation with him would never end well.

But it wasn't like you to do anything you really should, so you gave him the go-ahead to enter your apartment and guide him to the sofa. Asking him to sit down before disappearing down the corridors. Just long enough for Heeseung to take off his jacket and put it on the armchair next to him, then sit down on the larger sofa and look around. Trying to get as many details as possible in case one day you asked him what he thought of your apartment.

Not that it mattered, he could say he'd need to go there more often to notice anything different. But remembering the first time you were here could be something useful and nice, perhaps.

"Here" you came back into the living room with a glass of water in your hands, walking over to the sofa where he was sitting and handing him the glass.

"Thanks" he said after taking the glass, drinking almost all the water in a matter of seconds. This was an indication of how nervous he still was after feeling your weight next to him on the sofa, the closest you'd been since the kiss you two had shared in the kitchen at his house.

Heeseung placed his glass on the coffee table and continued to stare at his own feet as he sighed slowly, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers.

"My relationship with my father is the worst of all, and you've realized that haven't you?" you mumbled when he asked, albeit rhetorically, letting him continue his train of thought when he looked at you straight away "He cheated on my mother and ruined our family."

Oh. So that's why Heeseung was so harsh in his father's presence. And you couldn't understand how someone could betray Mrs. Lee, even if she was such an incredible woman.

"When my mother hired you, it was because she wanted to keep Hajun entertained most of the time and she knew I wouldn't be able to do that because I signed up for everything the university offered. Just so I wouldn't stay at home and have to deal with my father showing up."

Heeseung hated to lie that he had been neglectful to his younger brother about this, but he also couldn't risk bumping into his father and ending up fighting with the man in his younger brother's presence. That's when Mrs. Lee hired you as a nanny. Having someone to give the little one the attention that neither she nor Heeseung could be her priority. Someone you knew – even if you and Heeseung didn't speak to each other at the time – made the woman feel relieved because you seemed to have hit it off with the little one straight away.

"Seeing you integrate into the family made me feel angry because no one could like such a broken family with a false front" Heeseung was still looking at you, but his thoughts were a little more distant when he rambled "My mother wasn't happy when she hired you as a nanny. Hajun wasn't so happy when he met you and he only did it because my mother asked him to be nice to whoever was going to take care of him" a long sigh came from Heeseung's lips, looking away from you. "And I didn't accept that someone would be so nice to us because the last person who treated me, my brother, and my mother, so well, betrayed all of us."

You listened intently, seeing how broken Heeseung was inside your home. Opening his heart to you and asking for nothing in return.

He spoke for the first time about what it was like to have caught his father that night at the bar, how he felt the anger consume his body, and how he fought so many times until the man finally left the house. The divorce proceedings were kept under wraps because Hajun couldn't have known that something bad was going on, and your role was important in distracting him.

Heeseung admitted everything. And all the bad treatment he's given you since he met you was because he didn't know how to separate what was bad with his father, and that it shouldn't show to anyone. You wouldn't be like his father to anyone in the family, but amid the whole divorce process, you were there. Doing good for the Lee family without even knowing it.

And he didn't think he deserved it. I knew that Hajun deserved everything wonderful because he would spare his brother any bad feelings, but when you started being nice to Heeseung, he only knew how to be defensive.

You weren't supposed to greet him every time you were at home, you weren't supposed to flash smiles in his direction, let alone wave after a short answer he gave. Heeseung was rude – even for no reason – and you were still nice to him. Or at least polite. He wanted to believe that it was out of pure politeness and because Hajun was almost always around.

"I know I was a complete idiot and you never deserved that anyway" he slid his hand up to rest on your knee, feeling the slow touch of your fingers against his. Hesitantly, you took Heeseung's hand to intertwine your fingers in each other's "And that day in my kitchen..."

"We don't— Don't need to talk about..."

"I want to talk about it" he interrupted you, squeezing your fingers lightly and looking at you. This forced you to look at him too and maintain eye contact as you listened to every word Heeseung had to say "It was the day I saw my father in the bar, I left very angry."

You wanted to ask why he had gone after his father because Heeseung liked to beat himself up about it. But perhaps that was a conversation for another time, his gaze was so intent on you that all you could think about was every word he said.

"When I got home and you were in the kitchen, arguing was so unbearable that I acted on impulse when I kissed you and..." Heeseung's gaze dropped to your mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry gulp as he swallowed his saliva nervously "I didn't regret it, because I wanted it again."

"You—"

"I don't know what you did, Y/n, but I can't stop thinking about that day" neither can I, you wanted to answer, but hearing you say everything without a hint of pressure was wonderful. Maybe you'd confess later, but hearing his confession first was much better "You make me nervous, and want to kiss you every time we're near each other."

It was your turn to swallow. Heeseung was still staring at your mouth as if he were mesmerized by every detail of your lips when he felt your hand break away from his and go to the face next to you. You pulled him by the chin and felt Heeseung's breath against your skin from the sudden contact.

"We're too close now, what can you do?" you whispered.

He knew very well what to do and he wasn't going to waste any more time as he had done in previous weeks. Heeseung allowed his lips to touch yours slowly, but showing the urgency he had to feel you like that again.

You completely surrendered to the moment of having to kiss Heeseung again, this time knowing the exact moment when he asked for permission to enter your mouth with his tongue and how much slower his lips were now. Each movement was well appreciated as his hands slid down to your waist and yours ran to the back of his neck. Pulling Heeseung close, almost as if he wanted to fuse him against your body. And he would certainly do that if necessary.

But all he did was lay you back against the sofa while still maintaining the slow rhythm of the kiss, sighing against your lips as you spread your legs to accommodate Heeseung's body between them. It was a scene from heaven to be there again and in a slightly better position than sitting on a kitchen worktop. Heeseung could have sworn he cried in the middle of that kiss at being so close to you again.

Like a memory from last time, as soon as you both felt the need for air and he slid his mouth over yours, a moan came out of his throat. As sly as if he was really inside you when Heeseung kissed a specific spot on your neck.

That sound triggered something in him that, at the same moment, Heeseung pressed his hips against yours so that you could feel the full effect that just one kiss had on him.

"Hee..." you whispered as he returned with kisses all over your skin until he reached your earlobe, nibbling the skin slowly before aligning his face with yours again.

"You wouldn't be able to stop me now, would you?" he whispered back, kissing your mouth as slowly as he moved his hips against yours. It was torturous and at the same time sensual to feel Heeseung's tongue slide against yours at the same pace as he pressed his hard cock between your legs.

You moaned once more, anchoring your legs and holding his body there. Helping with the pressure and making him moan this time, biting his lower lip to break the kiss.

"You're going to be the death of me, Y/n" he gasped as he looked into your eyes. The fucking beautiful expression with the disheveled hair and droopy eyes, red mouth and chest rising and falling to normalize breathing.

"My room isn't too far from here" you pulled him back to you, feeling his lips hover over yours. Heeseung's smile widened even more.

"Good" he sealed his lips to yours "I haven't stopped wondering how this would end since the day I kissed you in that damn kitchen."

He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the sofa to pick you up and carry you to your room with your instructions along the way.

Heeseung just didn't know that you were also thinking about it, about to unravel all that thought.

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feyascorner · 9 months ago

Text

“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.

“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..

“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.

“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.

I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.

“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.

Let him love you again.

#is this too corny..#idk I love him #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x you

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kyra-cooneyx · 2 months ago

Text

between us — a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso

summary: your friendship with jenni and alexia blossoms into something more

psa: this is not stealing. i am the original writer, this is a repost from my old blog!

you'd had a crush on alexia from the moment you'd laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

the barcelona girls took you in as one of their own almost immediately and within a week, you felt like you'd known them forever. of course, your feelings for alexia grew and grew but your friendship with jenni had also blossomed so you decided that it was better to have alexia in your life as a friend then not at all. same with jenni. the last thing you wanted was for either of them to hate you.

since lucy and keira had pre-warned you about how affectionate the spanish could be, you never questioned how close you became with the couple as the months flew by. your teammates never said anything either so you assumed it was normal.

you never thought twice about being invited to dinners, or about the way jenni would pull you into her side during movie nights with the team. and you only lived a few doors down from alexia so her constant presence in your apartment was normal for you.

and that night was no different. music played softly in your bedroom as you held two pairs of earrings up, nudging alexia to get her attention. she quickly pointed to your go to statement earrings and you beamed, swiping your favourite necklace before heading into the en-suite. you figured it was easier to use the bathroom mirror instead of kicking alexia out of the way to use your vanity mirror.

you held your necklace out to jenni once she'd looked up from her phone, pushing herself off the sink and gently taking it from your hand. you turned around, feeling a shiver run down your spine as her fingers ran along the back of your neck, brushing your hair to the side.

jenni fastened the necklace and you thanked her softly, ignoring the way her hands slid down your arms. your eyes flickered towards your room as you put your earrings in, noticing alexia moving around.

she sat down on your bed and you swallowed thickly, eyes trained on her legs that looked even longer in the dress she was wearing.

"isn't she pretty?" jenni's question was a whisper in your ear and you felt yourself nodding.

"yes. ale is very pretty." you hummed in agreement but then froze, realising what you'd said and who you'd said it to.

hearing jenni's soft laughter didn't make you feel any better, neither did the kiss she pressed to your burning cheek. "you should tell her."

"what?" you laughed nervously, stepping forward and out of her grip. "why would i do that?"

she reached out for you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you back. a small huff left your lips as you hit her chest, the blush on your cheeks deepening. "i think ale should know what you think of her."

"i-i think you are very pretty too, jenni," you breathed, assuming jenni's actions were due to a sense of jealousy. "not just ale. you're both very pretty."

your flustered state only worsened when she turned you around, hands tight on your waist.

When her eyes flickered to your lips, you knew you were a goner. "puedo besarte?"

"yes. god, yes."

jenni's lips were on yours in an instant and you threw your arms around her neck, pulling her closer.

guilt hit you like a ton of bricks when you separated. you rubbed at your swollen lips, backing away from the spaniard silently.

you avoided alexia's gaze as you made your way over to your wardrobe, swinging it open to reach for your favourite pair of heels. your stomach twisted. were you really going to act normal and have dinner with alexia after kissing jenni mere feet away from her?

after slipping on the shoes, you turned around, ready to beg for alexia's forgiveness. but she was already stood there. you studied her face. she wasn't angry. maybe she didn't know.

"can i kiss you now?" she asked quietly and your legs felt like jelly as she reached out to rub her thumb along your bottom lip. "or does jenni get you all to herself?"

if it was any other day, you would've asked questions first. but jenni's kiss still had you reeling and you didn't know if you'd ever get the chance to kiss alexia again.

so you leaned in without a second thought.

the guilt you were feeling faded but was soon replaced with confusion. with hesitation, you gently pushed alexia back. her eyebrows furrowed and you placed your hand on her chest to keep her there. doing the same with jenni when she approached.

"what is happening? what is this? a one time thing?" you asked, looking between them quickly.

you regretted asking that last question almost immediately. you were not ready to hear the answer. your heart wouldn't be able to take a one time thing but you didn't know if you'd have the strength to reject them if they'd said yes.

"what do you want it to be?" alexia asked, voice soft and soothing. you swallowed thickly, the anxiety swirling in your stomach.

you had no idea what to say. you wanted them, in every way possible. but if they rejected you, where would that leave you? or the team? you didn't want to be the reason the whole thing fell apart.

"cariño?" alexia's voice pulled you out from your head and you inhaled sharply.

"what-what if i want something more then a one time thing? something serious?" your voice trembled slightly as did your hands.

jenni reached out and gently brushed her fingers along your cheek. "we want that too."

"really?"

"you sound surprised," alexia smiled and you realised that the mood had shifted. "we have been flirting with you for months, did you not notice?"

jenni grinned as your blush deepened. you rolled your eyes and swatted her hand away after she pinched at your cheek.

"you two are mean," you murmured, shouldering passed them both. alexia wrapped her arms around you and pulled you back, nuzzling your neck as you giggled quietly. "are we still going for food?"

"i am not sure hermosa," alexia said, resting her chin on your shoulder. "if jenni and i are so mean, why should we take you?"

you looked over at jenni but she just shrugged. you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "is this how it's going to be? you two ganging up on me all the time?"

jenni moved to stand in front of you, gently cradling your face and rubbing her thumbs along your jaw. you noticed her glance at alexia.

"vamos, ale. i think we need to show our girl just how nice we can be."

a year into the relationship, jenni and alexia were very much used to hearing you rage at your international teammates over the phone. normally, you showed your girlfriends decency and tried to keep the noise down but when your competitiveness flared, it wasn't always doable.

"georgia, stop cheating!" you shouted, glaring at the tv screen in front of you.

"it's mario kart mate! how can i cheat?"

"¡ don't know but you are! oh my—tooney! fuck off!" you clenched your jaw as the cheers sounded over the phone, both georgia and ella managing to beat you, the self-proclaimed mario kart champion of the lioness camp. "you know what? i hate you all."

"what did i do?" leah asked and you could hear the frown in her voice.

"guilty by association." you told her.

"doesn't seem fair."

"not my problem. i demand a rematch!"

"no." georgia and ella said simultaneously.

"uh, yes."

"oh, please don't start this back and forth again." you heard niamh plead.

"not our fault she's a sore loser." georgia muttered and you gasped.

"i am not!" you protested, getting radio silence in response. with a scoff, you shut down the tv and the xbox before snatching your phone. "i am ignoring this phone the next time sarina calls, do you people hear me?"

"loud and clear!" ella chirped. "don't answer it!"

in that moment you decided that, for once, you'd be the bigger person. so you ignored the jeers of your friends and hung up, muttering angrily under your breath as you made your through your apartment.

you headed into the bedroom to see alexia leaning against the headboard, looking over at you with an amused smile. "they beat you?"

"they did not beat me, they cheated." you huffed.

"maybe you are not as good as you think you are." jenni's voice echoed from the en-suite and you turned around.

"if you cannot even pretend to support me, jennifer, what are we even doing here?"

jenni laughed and you huffed again, crawling next to alexia and nestling into her side. when the brunette finally joined you, you kicked at her, letting out a yelp when alexia gently pinched your thigh. "be nice, amor."

"be nice," you mocked her quietly under your breath. after a few seconds, you attempted to crawl out but was immediately pulled back by the blonde. "hey!"

"where are you going?" she asked, tightening her arms as you wriggled in her grip.

"¡ am owed a rematch." you told her, prying at her hands.

"no."

"no? uh, yes," you tried to leave again but alexia quickly flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you so you couldn't move. "aw, ale, get off!"

"no."

"stop saying no to me," you groaned, wrenching your arm free and reaching out for jenni. "help!"

"no!" alexia lifted her head and glared at you, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed. "it will not kill you to have an early night for once."

"it might." you muttered, earning yourself another pinch.

with how genuinely annoyed she sounded, you half expected alexia to shove you over to jenni but she didn't. instead, her arms snaked around your body and she nuzzled further into you.

you pouted over at jenni and she kissed it from your lips, leaning over and flicking off the lamp. you glared into the darkness, feeling jenni press another kiss to your head.

after what felt like forever and you were sure that both jenni and alexia were asleep, you wriggled from your space between them and swiped your phone, quietly slipping out of the room.

you jumped onto the sofa and opened the lioness groupchat, typing only two words with determination flowing through your veins.

REMATCH NOW

#woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #jenni hermoso #alexias putellas #alexia putellas x reader #jenni hermoso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #jenni hermoso x reader

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aidaronan · 2 years ago

Text

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

#steddie #fanfic #mine #woodworker steve #rock star eddie #i meant for this to be a drabble but 😂

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f1byjessie · 4 months ago

Text

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81. [REWRITE]

he may not be a london boy, but you love him all the same, and you’re about to learn the hard way that loving someone can be a wild ride.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part one.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 61,816 others

yourusername me and london boy have made so many memories here together and i’ll cherish them forever ❤️. i love this sport and i love the people i've met in this sport. i'll always love it and them, but sometimes you have to take a step back and set your sights on new horizons. that said, neither of us will be competing in any events this year— endurance or otherwise. london boy will stay in richmond and continue to receive the best care possible from people who have grown to love him as much as i do, and in the meantime, i'll start looking to those other horizons.

view all 1,761 comments

user wishing you the best of luck!! we’ll miss seeing you and london boy, but we know this decision wasn’t made lightly and we hope whatever you do will make you just as happy as riding does!!

user london boy lives a more luxurious life than i could ever hope

↳ user real like why am i jealous of a horse 😭😭

↳ user knowing how well these horses are treated? we should all be jealous

↳ user some of these horses have rain coats that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined… the day i learned that was not a fun day… 😔

user honestly only ever tuned in to watch you both

user the events won’t be the same without you!!!

user I’LL MISS YOU LONDON BOY

user take all the time you need to explore other options! you can love something and still get burnt out on it. sometimes taking that step away can be the decision that allows us to continue loving something instead of growing resentful towards it. do what you need to do to be happy! 🫶

↳ user this is such a good way to put it!!

↳ user THIS. i did competitive jumping for ten years and towards the end of that time i started seeing it more as a chore than the sport i used to be so passionate about. you absolutely CAN love something and still get burnt out on it. taking breaks is so important.

user i’m sure london boy will miss you but you do you girliepop! take a trip or go on an adventure!

user oh to be a girl riding her horse across the beach at sunrise 🥲

↳ user IKR?!? talk about dream life, she’s literally living out scenes that i’ve only ever seen in movies

↳ user it’s london boy’s world and we’re all just living in it

user wait does this mean no more horse content???

↳ user i mean she’s not getting rid of her horse or even outright retiring, she just won’t be riding competitively for 2023

user is she leaving the uk or smth?? bc she said other ppl will be looking after london boy?? i know nothing about horses guys i’m sorry

↳ user london boy will be staying at the stables as per her caption! he will be looked after by many trained professionals who will ensure he is properly fed, watered, exercised, and groomed each day! it’s actually very common for people to board their horses at a stable since horses often need large fields to graze and exercise in, and not a lot of people have big enough backyards or own property to be able to provide that themselves. whether she’s leaving the uk or not, we don’t know, but it definitely sounds like her training with london boy will be put on hold for the time being!

user miss girl we’ll always remember you and london boy as the greatest duo in endurance racing history

↳ user REAL REAL REAL

user does this have to do with her falling off a few months back??

↳ user it could, she did mention the encounter leaving her pretty shaken

↳ user yeah but the possibility of something like this happening is so high that a lot of riders have accepted it as an inevitable occurrence in their career

↳ user even still, that doesn’t change the fact that she could very well be traumatized or experiencing lingering side effects

↳ user guys!! speculation will do us no good!! if she wants to tell us, she will!!

user YOU KNOW I LOVE A LONDON BOY 🗣🗣🗣

logansargeant wanna trade one paddock for another?

There’s a sort of terrifying uncertainty that comes with breaking a long-standing routine.

It’s like a fucked-up sort of package deal— you stop following the methodized schedule you’ve meticulously upheld for years, and in exchange, you receive more time than you know what to do with and an overwhelming responsibility to fill it.

The only question is: with what?

The muscle memory lingers, and you suspect that it’ll take some time for your body to un-familiarize itself with a sleep schedule that you’ve religiously held on to for years, but there’s no demands to maintain any of it and that makes any sort of attempt at continuing to run through the motions feel entirely obsolete. You may instinctively wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but without the necessity of a horse relying on your punctuality to get him fed, watered, and turned out to the paddock, there’s nothing you can do beyond filling the morning with something until your internal clock catches the memo and decides to let you sleep in for once.

“You know, when I invited you to tag along with me,” Logan begins in lieu of a greeting when he opens the front door and sees you standing on the stoep of his apartment, clad in athletic wear and a pair of well-worn running shoes, “I was under the impression that we both understood that to mean the traveling to races part and not necessarily the pre-season training.”

“‘My dearest sister,’” you sarcastically quip back in a mockingly deep voice, feigning heartfelt sincerity and pressing your hand melodramatically to your chest. “‘How good it is to see you after so long! I would be absolutely delighted if you joined me on my morning run today.’”

Your twin brother shakes his head in exasperation, but through the facade of annoyance, you can recognize the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Honestly, Logie,” You pretend to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye and add in a sniffle for extra flair, “you're too sweet. What would I ever do without you?”

“We saw each other a week ago at brunch,” he grumbles, reluctantly taking a step back from the door and allowing you to pass over the threshold into the warmth of the apartment and out of the winter’s frigid morning air.

“When?”

“Last Wednesday—”

“—did I ask? Oh! Boom! Gotcha!” You whoop out an exclamation of victory as you continue down the hall. “Gosh, I am four for four now. You gotta step up your game, Logie-bear, or this is gonna end in a miserable shut out for you.”

He heaves out a heavy sigh that carries with it twenty-two years of suppressed brotherly rage and the exhaustion that can only come from being reminded at every chance that he is, and always will be, a minute younger than you. “You're the bane of my existence, and I do sincerely hope you know this.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

You step into the small kitchen at the end of the hall. With the exception of a little potted cactus sitting on the windowsill— a housewarming gift from you— it looks nearly identical to how it was the last time you visited.

A month ago.

When he moved in.

There's a woven mat on the floor in front of the sink, an ashy green that contrasts nicely with the off-white cream color of the cabinets and laminate countertops. You can't really tell if Logan actually bought the mat, or if it came with the place, but it's cute nonetheless and serves as one of the few pops of color in the otherwise monochromatically beige apartment.

“I see that my cactus continues to reign supreme as the only individuality in this place,” you comment, glancing over your shoulder in time to see him appear in the doorway.

He shrugs at your words. “Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how busy you can get when you're preparing for everything you've ever dreamed about. No biggie.”

“Logan,” you turn to face him, “you'll do great. There are two other rookies on the grid—”

“And I'll be in the worst car out of all of them.”

“You don't know that,” you chide gently.

This side of Logan isn't unfamiliar to you— the anxiety and fear of failure. It's always existed, and you've known about it since the morning of his first kart race when he confided in you that he was so nervous he felt like he was going to be sick.

The insecurities surrounding his own skills have persisted and thrived with every new track, every new team, and every new series, and as you've grown alongside him you've found ways to challenge his self-doubt, but you've also learned to accept that there's only so much you alone can do.

You can debate it and challenge the self-deprecating thoughts all you want, but the voice in his head will always be there, no matter how quiet it occasionally becomes.

So you choose to drop the topic for now.

It's too early in the morning for an impromptu therapy session anyway.

You turn back around and scan the countertops until your eyes latch onto the container of pre-workout tucked away in the corner, nearly hidden amidst the mountain of vitamin and nutrient supplements.

“I thought it was part of Benny’s job to make sure you didn't have to use all this shit,” you comment, picking through the jars and eyeing them each with unapologetic distaste.

Logan reaches over your shoulder and plucks a packet of vitamin C tablets from your hand, “Sometimes these just work better.”

“Yeah, maybe if you don’t have a nutritionist being paid to quite literally curate a diet specifically to ensure that you don’t need to use these,” you gesture widely to the assembled mass of supplements. “But, last I checked, dear brother of mine, you do have a nutritionist— and a very good one at that— who would be horrified to learn you’re substituting real fruit for…” you squint down at the nutritional label of another one of the jars, but there’s very little that you recognize amidst the scientific jargon and long, five-syllable words, “little gummies that taste like fruit.”

He huffs, “Get your pre-workout or I'm leaving without you.”

“You wouldn't dare leave without me,” you grumble.

“I've done it before and I'll do it again,” he snipes, giving a brief yank on your ponytail and cackling when you swat behind yourself in futility.

There’s more he isn’t saying— there always is, nowadays— but you recognize the deflection for what it is. You want to claw him apart with questions and demand answers that bare every inch of his soul so you understand what he isn’t telling you and why he feels the need to keep it locked away even from you, but you know better than to keep pushing at something Logan clearly doesn’t want to talk about.

It makes you nostalgic for a time in your life when he’d sneak down from the top of the bunk bed after your parents had tucked you away for the night and slip under the covers with you, a well-loved stuffed bear hugged to his chest. He’d curl up beside you and you’d pull the blankets up to your chin and watch him with big, curious eyes until he’d whisper out into the darkness of your shared bedroom what he was worrying about.

More often than not it was a byproduct of a hyperactive imagination still plagued by the fears of childhood. Something about the space beneath your bed and— “What if there’s something down there? And the only way you can see it is by its glowing eyes? But what if it knows when someone is gonna look under the bed, so it closes its eyes so you can’t see the glow?” Or the curtains and— “You have to make sure they cover the whole window because what if you don’t and then something looks inside and it knows I’m not asleep and then it comes inside? I always hold really still and pretend to be asleep even when I’m not if the curtains aren’t closed.”

But sometimes it was about anything and everything else like the fox sitting in the bushes by the bus stop on the way home from school and whether or not it had water to keep it cool in the Florida heat, or the purple glitter pen Mrs. Moore used to grade his spelling test and how the girl sitting next to him had gotten her test graded with the green glitter pen, or— “I forgot my coat in Mr. Garrison’s class yesterday, and you went and got it for me and brought it to the car with you, and I didn’t say thank you, but I always feel bad when I leave my coat behind because what if it has feelings and felt really bad because it thought I was abandoning it, so thank you for getting my coat so it didn’t feel abandoned.”

But that was then and this is now.

You’re both adults, and you live in different apartments on different ends of the city, and you work different jobs that separate you by half the globe at times. There’s no more talk of foxes by bus stops or glitter pens, and certainly no more sentient coats with fears of abandonment.

When you look at Logan now, he isn’t wasting away, and really you owe it to him after you announced out of the blue a week ago that you weren’t just taking a break from competitive riding, but rather taking a break from riding as a whole. He didn’t press you on it then— still hasn’t pressed you on it despite having every right to do so. The least you can do now in return is respect the boundary he’s trying to set.

You mutter a few curses beneath your breath— words your mother would throw a fit over if she could hear you— and feign a scowl, but some of the tension in Logan’s shoulders has released and that's all you can ask for.

“If you leave me behind, I’ll leak a picture of your pathetic kitchen to the tabloids and let everyone tear apart your design choices,” you threaten, digging your knuckles into the tender spot of his arm where bicep meets shoulder and taking pride when he squirms away and beyond reach.

He flips you off. “You’re just jealous I have a cool cactus and you don’t.”

“Hey!” You give a lazy kick in his direction, but he sidesteps it easily with a laugh. “I gave you that cactus!”

“Tomato, tom-ah-to.” He flippantly waves his hand in your direction, laughing again at the indignant squawk you make. “Just hurry up and make your damn drink.”

As he makes his way out of the kitchen, presumably to grab his shoes, you unscrew the lid from the container and reach for the scoop.

Only to find it entirely empty.

“You asshole! There's nothing in here!”

Logan’s cackle echoes from another room.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 42,451 others

yourusername day 14 without london boy and i have officially succumbed to the boredom and willingly subjected myself to the presence of my arch nemesis (love you logie 🫶)

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logansargeant in my defense, you just showed up

user you could not PAY me to go out in this weather

user as a florida girlie myself, this is my nightmare

↳ user REAL

↳ user genuinely seeing this makes me so glad i live in a place where there’s no snow cuz yea, the view is pretty and all, but not even a gorgeous sunrise would make up for me freezing my ass off and having to wear seven layers just to keep the feeling in my fingers and toes

user i wish the most stressful part of my day was going for a morning run 😔

user calling logan her nemesis is so real i just know that man is a menace

↳ user the f2 clips of him and liam are proof enough

↳ user logan sargeant was a menace back in f3 💀 have you SEEN the prema videos with oscar and fred? bro is diabolical when he wants to be

↳ user i'm so excited for the chaos he'll bring to the grid this year

user the snow man is so cute!!

user “14 days without london boy” OH I AM ILL 😭😭😭

user ok but that view is gorgeousness

↳ user ikr?! winter sunrises are genuinely so pretty

user i’m still so confused as to why she isn’t riding anymore?? can someone pls explain

↳ user to be entirely honest, i’m not sure really what there is to explain. first and foremost, we aren’t owed any sort of explanation as to why she’s decided to take a step back from riding. it could be a personal decision, a career decision, or something else, but whatever it is we aren’t automatically entitled to it just because y/n has previously been very open and vocal about her and london boy’s training. second, she never actually said that she isn’t riding anymore. she said she’s taking a step back from competitive riding to focus on other things, and the “without london boy” part of her caption implies that she hasn’t seen him, but she could just be taking a prolonged break, or she could be focusing on something else that has prevented her from going to see him. but again, none of it is our business and she doesn’t owe us any further explanation to what she meant.

↳ user THIS THIS THIS!! as sad as i am to not have london boy on my feed, y/n is a grown adult with her own private life and we have to respect her decisions!! if or when she chooses to come forward about the specifics of her future plans and goals, then that’s great and i’ll continue to support her endeavors, but for the time being we all just have to be patient

user the selfie logan posted with you on his story was so cute!! 🥰

user she’s a runner she’s a track star

user i’ve missed the twin content!

↳ user me too!! i really hope that her taking a break from competitions (as much as i love london boy) will mean we get to see her actually going to more of logan’s races, especially now that he’ll be in formula 1!!

oscarpiastri if the rumours are to be believed, i look forward to getting to catch up at the races this year

━━ tags: @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @awritingtree @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @elz-xo @the-navistar-carol

━━ a/n: surprise! i've been working on this for a little while now (i got my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, so the time i've spent recovering has been spent polishing up the last few details for this first part) but here she is! as promised, the newly rewritten and revamped 'he likes my american smile'! i feel like i always say it, but the original genuinely holds such a special place in my heart because it was the first work i ever posted here on tumblr, so i'm really happy to take all that i've learned since then and apply it where i can in this new version. i really hope the changes and development is as loved by you all as it is by me, and that you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #social media au

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yandere-sins · 6 months ago

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I played Jiyan's quest today and I can't stop thinking about being Yandere!Jiyan's dirty little secret...

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content (dub-con), Dragon Behavior (a little bit like fangs, biting and snarling), Mention of war and all that comes with it, Stockholm Syndrom Reader]

Everyone got one of those, right? Some people overindulge in sweets, and some gamble 'just one more game' while their pockets are empty. But for someone like Jiyan, who is seen as great and respectable in the public eyes—a person who can do no wrong—it's you.

You are the dirtiest secret one could hope to never uncover behind the beloved general. It would be hard to turn a blind eye to your situation, so he does his very best so that no one finds out about it. You are only destined for his eyes, a splendid gift of Jué for sure. Why else would your paths have crossed, your fates intertwining as cruelly yet beautifully as they did?

You are hidden away in his mansion, locked up, and put through a very different hell than what he goes through. He loves you; he really does. That's why you can't leave. Never. You're the one thing that keeps him grounded in this world, the last spark of hope that keeps his sanity from accidentally killing himself on the battlefield as he realizes there's nothing more to fight for.

Jiyan doesn't return to his mansion to live in splendor and the luxuries of life. He only comes home to you.

You are not a willing participant in this secret of his. Not even the few servants he permits around him know of you. Everything must be under wraps and he used his salary as a general wisely to build you a palace that can house his madness in a beautifully twisted way. It's an illusion of the outside world, with technology and science providing the idea of being a little less captured and a little more free. And Jiyan doesn't regret spending every penny to keep up the illusion of being your lover, not your captor.

This way, he can ensure your safety and well-being far away from other people despite him being outside, fighting dangerous threats, and risking his life daily. He can ensure that you'll be fed and entertained for a long time after his death, and no one finding out long after your passing either. But he doesn't even think of this possibility. Not when he's the only one you can cling to.

Being isolated does something to one's psyche, and that's the one thing Jiyan cannot improve for you—and at this point, he doesn't want to anymore. Everyone outside the underground palace is a foe when it comes to you. They'd try to take you away from him. And after just shy of a couple of years of being imprisoned, he finally has you broken down enough that you won't fight his love constantly anymore.

Instead, you walk up to him as he finally returns, weeks having turned into months. But with no one else to give you attention and love, you open your arms to him, worn-out and bloody as he is. Your body is tense and wary, with a frown on your face, but when he moves forward, so are you. Both of you are so desperate for what only the other can give.

You let him sack into your embrace and allow him to reciprocate your hug, always just a little too tight for your comfort. It feels revolting to hold him even after all this time. Still, you claw your fingers into his clothes as if he were going to disappear again any second. He reeks of sweat, blood, and dirt, but you tolerate it, and he is ever so thankful for you loosening his hair tie and combing through his hair. It's the end of stress and despair for Jiyan. You are ringing in the peace into his life, and he wants to stay like this forever, but another part is threatening to take him over.

He had to hold back for so long, yearning and exercising patience. Now, the beast inside of him is starving.

He can't help but lose his composure a little, burying his face in your chest and smelling you like an animal. His snarls reverberate throughout your whole body, like the purrs of a cat, the need for you building rapidly inside of him. Fangs protrude from his lips as he drags them over your shoulder, searching for the taut skin above your collarbone to sink them into you. Your blood tastes sweet and exciting instead of the bitter and impure blood on his lips whenever he worries them in the barracks, thinking of you. You squirm, complain, wiggle—a part of you still resisting. But if he wants to have a taste of you, then there's nothing you can do unless you want him to accidentally rip your throat out. He's proving you're real—not another damn hallucination—and he licks up the wounds with fervor, knowing you are alive and well after having your taste spread over his tongue.

Jiyan loves the pouty look on your face when he topples you over, catching your arms with his hands. He chuckles as you resist vainly, his grip leaving the prettiest of bracelets made of bruises on your wrists. The last ones have already faded and tears well up in your eyes as he replaces them dutifully. He knows you don't want to spread your legs for him, your body resisting that until the bitter end, so he picks you up instead, carrying you to the bath to ease the tension you're feeling. He needs it, too, and Jiyan licks his lips as the sweet release of all his pent-up feelings draws near.

Your moans resemble a song of healing as they echo through the bathroom, filling the space with all the love and adoration he gives you. Jiyan worships the way your body twists in his grip, tightens around his cock, and lets him know the extent of how good he is making you feel. His thrust may be harsh, and your mouth may be begging for him to stop mistreating both your lips and body as he mauls you like a Spearback, water splashing everywhere as you two get rowdy in the bath, but you can't resist orgasm after orgasm shaking through you, your belly full of his warm seed. It takes a while to satiate Jiyan, but just like you took care of him when he returned, he washes your exhausted body afterward and takes you to bed to pepper you in kisses and to stroke you some more until you are a bawling, beautiful mess coming completely undone in front of him. There need to be no secrets, no shame between you two, and your beauty is unrivaled, especially after seeing you again after so many nights imagining this very sight in front of him.

It solidifies his life's worth when he can watch you sleep, bundled up and frowning since you are so sore. He wipes the tears from your face as you have nightmares of being alone and being with Jiyan. But hearing you say his name in your sleep—regardless in which context—is enough for him to finally settle into the soft pillows too. One arm around you, the other one for you to rest your head on. Because just like you'll never escape this prison, Jiyan won't let you be anywhere but next to him as long as he's home.

He falls asleep with dreams of domesticity. Cooking with you, feeding you dessert, taking walks in a park he'll never take you to. Massaging you, sharing your woes, and cuddling in front of the fireplace. A life he will never ever have with you, but which has kept him from death so many times. Knowing you were at home, waiting for him, angry, pouty, trying to scratch his eyes out, but you were safe and healthy, saved him from the despair of losing everyone he ever cared about in this cruel war. Your blood reminds him of life rather than death, and the warmth of your body in his arms is the comfort he needs after the endless cold nights outside of this dream he built for you.

So Jiyan doesn't even think about everything of yours that he sacrificed to get to this point. You'll be his dirty little secret forever, and he'll make sure of it no matter how many discords or people he has to kill or how much he needs to break you to make this possible. He can't continue living like the hero people make him out to be if he can't have you to compensate for his madness. Isn't it a fair price? Jiyan wouldn't know what to do with all the despair and anguish if he couldn't turn it into love. Jiyan isn't sure he could stop himself from and fight against becoming what he fears most—a mad monster.

He has yet to realize that, beneath his mansion, sleeping peacefully next to you, he has long lost that battle.

But it's his dirty little secret no one on the outside needs to know.

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enwoso · 2 months ago

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PINK SKIES — alessia russo

this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.

this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍

WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.

"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.

alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.

alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.

it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.

"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.

"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.

"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.

but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.

some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.

"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.

you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.

it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.

a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.

but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.

you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.

“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.

“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.

both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.

you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.

alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.

"your actually coming to london!"

"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”

"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"

"me neither y/n, me neither."

or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.

alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.

both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.

everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.

but for you it couldn't have been further from that.

after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.

you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.

if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?

if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.

if the team conceded it was your fault.

if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.

in the eyes of the public you could do no right.

but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.

in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.

but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.

“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.

“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.

a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.

“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.

alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, “y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”

a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.

“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.

alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”

lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.

“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.

“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.

“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.

“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.

“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.

“i wish tomorrow came”

you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.

the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.

after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?

any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.

any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"

alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.

it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.

she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.

however tomorrow for you, never came.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #lotte wubben moy #enwoso

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spider-stark · 2 years ago

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SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months.

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned.

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return.

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far.

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?”

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?”

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.”

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?”

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing.

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.”

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.”

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance.

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further.

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?”

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.”

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.”

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?”

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?”

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile.

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.”

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted.

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.”

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.”

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology.

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment.

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.”

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.”

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face.

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.”

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing.

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.”

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it.

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.”

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights.

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker headcanons #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #spiderman fic #mcu imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 4 months ago

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Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 10 Wheee this one is slightly over 2k words. I hope you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also I'm still shit at spelling, you're welcome to point out mistakes to me. We've come to the day of the concert. Also! When Simon thinks of you as "little" it is a reference to your height compared to him, your weight does not matter. If he's taller than you, then you're little to him. I don't make the rules. Warnings: Simon on a motorcycle, yearning, you two need a warning in general Part 9 | COD Masterlist | Part 11

The next time Simon is graced with your company outside of the shop is the day of the concert.

He already told you that he’d come and get you on his bike and your eyes had sparkled with excitement. It was rather surprising, that little shy you would be so excited at the prospect of riding on his bike with him but he’d rather take that than you being unhappy with it.

He arrives at your place and before he can get in his head over how he should greet you he takes off his helmet and gloves, shooting you a quick text that he’s there (heck yeah, he secured your number, doesn’t matter that it was for the sake of organizing going to the concert).

The entrance door to your home opens and Simon catches a glimpse of you. Clearly you’re explaining to Wraith that he’ll have to stay at home and he can’t help but grin triumphantly. You trust him enough to go somewhere without your mutt. He’ll be your guard dog instead (if only you’d put a collar with your name on him).

Finally you turn to him and close the door behind yourself. You brush invisible dust off your clothes, the gesture awkward and self-conscious. He prays you don’t feel how heavy his gaze is when he lets it drag across your figure. Goddamn he’d never have expected you to dress up like that. But man, is he glad he gets to witness it.

You’re so precious and pretty, no matter what you wear but he finds a part of him hoping you didn’t just dress up for the concert but maybe a little bit for him too (please). You’re so beautiful you outshine the goddamn sun. No, wait, that phrase doesn’t suit you.

You’re no sun, no bright blinding light and he doubts you’d want to be that.

You’re a moon, he decides. His own personal moon. Silently reflecting the light of day at him, comforting him in the darkness. Inoffensive and distant (he’ll find a way to get closer). He doesn’t need to shield his eyes from your brightness for you are not blinding. You are awe inspiring. Someone that silently waits to be admired and doesn’t demand attention (though he suspects you’re no fan of attention either way).

Sometimes you’re fully yourself, sometimes hiding behind clouds and sometimes invisible altogether. Simon will always find you though. Even on a new moons night. Even when you don’t want to be found. Now that he’s caught sight of the full moon he won’t live with only seeing it once a month (or rather only seeing you twice a week for a few minutes in his shop).

When he takes in your appearance again a soft smile settles on his face and he finds himself thankful for his mask for hiding the stupid lovesick expression he’s wearing.

You stop before him and tilt your head up at him. God he really could just snatch your small form up and keep you with him forever. The way you’re clutching your phone in your hands abruptly catches his attention. He wonders what that is about.

“Hi, sweetheart.”, he murmurs and you nod, still clenching your hands around your phone. Suddenly concern overcomes him. Did you change your mind? Did something happen?

“Talk to me, sweets…”, he implores gently, nodding in the direction of your phone, thankful that no one can hear how soft his voice is. Only for you.

You look up at him, your eyes flickering with something he can’t exactly pinpoint. “I want…”, you begin and your voice fails you. It reminds Simon of the first times you interacted and suddenly he’s very aware of what a difference your dog makes.

With Wraith by your side you barely hesitated to speak your mind, but now that you’re alone with Simon it feels like all the progress you two made has gone down the drain. One day, he’ll travel to the dark side of the moon and uncover its secrets but until then he’ll merely try to help you not to wane.

“What do you want?”, he encourages and gathers his own courage to put his index finger under your chin when you look down again. The way he lifts your chin is tender, as if he’s afraid of breaking you if he handles you too roughly (he is, something has broken you before, he suspects, and he refuses to add to old wounds). “You can tell me.”

Your eyes meet his and you swallow and square your shoulders as if preparing for battle. “I would like to send my friend your phone number and a picture of you as well as where we’re going.”, you say slightly shaky.

Simon’s hand falls from your face and he grows still. Very still. Suddenly he feels cold. He can see you shuffling your feet in place.

“You… Want me to let you take a picture of my face?”, he asks slowly and you look down, your shoulders hunching slightly. If he wasn’t so stumped he’d try to comfort you but his own heart starts racing.

“I trust you…”, you begin. “I do. But we’ve only really met one time and I am about to climb onto your bike with you and it would make me feel a lot more comfortable if my friend had… something in case … in case…” You don’t finish the sentence.

The air grows tense around you two as Simon regards your hunched over form. Is this your deal breaker? Will you not come with him if he says no? Does he want to say no? What would happen if he let you take a picture of his face? The thought makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The way you’re withering under his gaze is more than enough proof of how uncomfortable you are too. And despite his own discomfort Simon doesn’t want you to feel like you have to hide from him.

“How about a deal, sweetheart?”, he asks slowly, trying to break through the tension.

Your eyes snap back up to his, wide in surprise at the fact that he doesn’t immediately dismiss you. You nod jerkily.

“No picture.”, he says and he swears you nearly flinch drawing even more into yourself. His hand finds your chin again, making you meet his eyes again. The touch comforting and warm, trying to convince you without words that he is not upset at your request.

He needs you to see his eyes, he needs you to see that he means it when he continues. “You can send her my number and my address, hell, I’ll let you send her a picture of my ID. Anything you need to be comfortable, sweetheart. Anything, just… no picture of my face.”

The way your eyes are searching his make him swallow and he wonders if this is where he loses the bit of trust you’ve started putting into him.

“Your license plate…”, you mumble. Cautiously your own hand comes up to cup his that ensures that you’re meeting his gaze.

“No picture of your face, Simon.” He can hear you take a deep breath. “I’ll send her your address and pictures of your bike’s plate.”

Something in his chest splinters at that, something rotten and ugly. Something he didn’t know was still there. It crumbles and suddenly he breathes easier. How come he wasn’t aware that he didn’t have to fight for his comfort? That the two of you would find a compromise this easily?

Just like that the tension is gone, something warm and soothing settling around Simon’s heart. Why does something so small make him so happy?

He studies your face, the way he can feel your skin against his fingers and suddenly without thinking his thumb raises to touch your lower lip.

Torturously slow the pad of his thumb glides over it. The gesture is subconscious, a thank you, a need to feel something more of you. His throat is awfully dry when he swallows, eyes fixed on your lips. “Yeah, sweetheart. Of course. Thank you.”

The expression in your eyes is unreadable and you seem just as caught in the moment as he is. You go to say something, your tongue darting out to wet your own lips, catching his thumb in the process.

He inhales sharply, freezing once again. His thumb remains on your lower lip, soft and inviting. It’s probably creepy, the way he stares at your mouth, but he can’t help it, not when every part of his body screams at him to touch you more to take you in his arms and lay some sort of claim on you. Kiss and bite and nip on your lips so everyone can see that you belong to someone. Belong to him (you don’t though, you don’t belong to him, yet).

Simon tries to be courteous and respectful so before he does anything stupid he closes his eyes tightly, praying that you don’t feel the subtle shudder that runs through him at the feel of your tongue on his skin.

It’s hard to imagine what you’re thinking when he’s like this, utterly frozen, eyes closed tightly, his eyebrows furrowed. The hand that’s holding his squeezes slightly.

“Simon?” Your sweet voice rings out and he slowly blinks his eyes open. Once again he finds himself breathless at the sight of you. He bites his tongue to hold onto the whimper that threatens to spill over his lips when you bring his hand to your cheek and tilt your head into it.

“Hi.” You smile at him and he swears he is a second from throwing all caution to the wind and kissing you. “Where did you go?”

His exhale is shuddering and he withdraws his hand abruptly. The small flicker of hurt across your face makes his heart ache but if he keeps touching you he will lose whatever is left of his mind.

“Just trying to be respectful, sweetheart. I.. you…”, he groans in frustration and decides that it’s wiser to not try to explain himself. He doesn’t miss the small amused smile that settles on your lips at his attempt at explaining himself.

“You can take a picture of the plate now.” Is what he settles for and you nod, having mercy on him and leaving it at that.

As you take the picture something occurs to him. “I’ll send you a picture of the one of my truck… It wouldn’t make sense if your friend doesn’t have the plates of both.”

The surprise is palpable when you look at him but what he said makes a bright smile break out across your face and Simon suddenly wishes to take a picture of you instead. He wants to always have your smile with him.

Finally it’s time for you to climb onto his bike and he holds out the spare helmet he brought with him (he might have bought gear for you but you didn’t need to know that). Before he can explain anything you’ve already pulled it on and secured the band under your chin.

“Not your first ride?” Simon tugs his own helmet back over his head and meets your eyes.

“Nope.” You pop the p and giddily do a few hops where you’re standing. Even though most of your face is hidden by the helmet he can see the immediate embarrassment that follows the action and he tries to bite back his laugh at the adorableness of it all.

Still the thought of someone else having you on their bike behind them, your arms wrapped around them has an ugly green monster rear its head in his chest. Trying to ignore the feeling he holds out a protective jacket to you and you put it on without questioning where he got one in your size.

One piece after the other he has you put on the protective gear giving you a once over to make sure you’re properly zipped up.

You cock your head at him. “Should I be concerned that you’re so prepared with the gear? How … how well do you drive?”

There’s subtle nervousness again and he chuckles, stepping in front of you while he puts on his own gloves, his movements practiced and unhurried, trying to calm you. He inclines his head, so close his helmet almost touches yours and if he isn’t mistaken he watches you take a deep surprised breath.

“No need to be scared, sweetheart. Just making sure, you’re properly protected. I’m not gonna take any chances with your safety.”

Your head ducks down, breaking the eye contact and your eyes find his legs that are only clad in black jeans.

“What about your safety?”

His grin behind his mask is feral and he’s thankful you can’t see it because it might actually make you concerned for him.

“C’mon. Time to hop on.”, he says, ignoring your question completely.

He easily throws his leg over the bike, sitting down and then holds out a hand to you. Somehow he’s not sure you’ll actually take it. The fact that you didn’t object to riding with him is already surprising enough. You don’t seem like someone who’d be comfortable with this much physical contact.

Easily you slide your hand into his and let him steady you when you carefully climb onto the smaller seat behind him.

“Hold on, sweets.” His voice comes out quietly, intimately and he fights the urge to clear his throat.

He softly takes your wrists in his hands, trying to ignore how small and fragile they feel even with the jacket on, and draws them around his middle. He feels the exact moments you begin holding onto him and it makes him take a deep shaky breath. Thank god he decided to take the bike instead of the truck.

The motor rumbles to life and you tighten your arms around him. Time to show you how good of a guard dog he can be. He’ll make sure you feel safe enough to speak your mind without your other dog around.

#the sewer writes #cod x reader #butcher!simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #gn!reader #ghost x reader #butcher!ghost x reader #simon x reader

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lowkeyerror · 9 months ago

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The Family Business Ch.1

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Ch Notes: Minor character death, Near death experience, Parental Neglect/Abuse, Graphic descriptions of violence

Summary: The passing of your older brother forever changed your relationship with your parents. After a particularly brutal incident with your mother, the Maximoffs welcome you into their home.

An: It's been a minute, but I said I was coming back with a vengeance. I've already got multiple chapters of this drafted so be ready for weekly releases. Thanks for sticking around and I hope you enjoy this series!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Often the word delicate is used interchangeably with fragile. The only main difference is an obvious and inherent beauty that comes with something delicate. Something fragile on the other hand is viewed as predominantly breakable. Glass is fragile while a flower is delicate. Some items have a duality to them like a vase or feelings.

You were fragile.

Not entirely frail, there was some strength to your bones. It was more so from your unwillingness to be perceived as weak than anything else that kept you semi-strong. You were aware that life could be unkind, but also knew that it took pity on no one. There would be no exceptions made for you, no matter how much your mind craved it.

You were young when you learned the cruelty of life. The memory lives in your mind as clearly as the day it happened. It was summer, the sun was high in the sky, beaming down ferociously on your hometown. It was well over 90 degrees, the perfect weather for swimming. Your parents suggested that you and your brother get in the pool to cool off.

Lucas was wearing blue trunks while you had on a black and white one piece. He was 12 and you were 8, merely children. Left unsupervised, you played in water as you always had with each other. You couldn’t swim so you always stayed on the shallow side of the pool.

After spending the majority of the day in the pool, you wanted to get out. You hoisted yourself out of the pool by the side, instead of going to the steps. You were successful in getting out of the pool. It was walking along the side of the pool that made you slip. Your head hit the cement and you felt your body hit the water.

You couldn’t recall much from there. The rest had been recounted to you more times than you could remember. You sank 12 feet to the bottom of the pool. Lucas hadn’t noticed immediately but once he did, he sprang into action.

He could swim, but he wasn’t a strong swimmer. Regardless he swam to the bottom of the pool to retrieve you. He found you there unconscious blood surrounding the water by your head. On the darkest days you speculated about the moment he knew that he was losing air.

He was only 12, but he used his strength to get you out of the water. You had laid on the cement unconscious, while your brother passed out in the pool water. By the time your parents decided to check on you, your head was resting in a puddle of its own blood on the concrete and your brother was face down in the pool.

They called 911 and by some miracle, you had survived. Lucas didn’t make it. You could never forget the look on your parents’ face when they told you. The pity in your father’s eyes and the hatred in your mother’s.

You could recall nearly every time your mother said you killed your brother. It was her favorite thing to throw in your face. She said it so much that it was hard not to believe it.

Your father would argue with her for talking to you this way. It never led to anything other than a screaming match between the two. It only took a few months for divorce papers to be filed. With the divorce papers came a nasty custody battle. The courts decided on 50/50 as your mother became the actress of the century claiming that she couldn't stand to lose another child.

Handling her cruelty forced you to toughen up. The words she spoke to you were nothing compared to the violence she inflicted against you. The bruises were endless with her. Even when you grew taller and stronger than her, she'd taken to throwing things at you.

When you were with your father things were calmer, but he worried a lot. So, you spent a lot of time alone when you stayed with him. It was better than your mother's and you were always grateful for that even though you wished he was more present.

The only thing that helped soften your reality was your friend Pietro. You met him in high school. He knew about everything. He was your only friend, the only person who had taken a liking to your semi-stoic personality. You were by no means an open book, but Pietro showed that he could be trusted. So, you found yourself telling him about your life.

He hated the way you lived. Any time he could, he’d invite you to his place to remove you from your situation. You gladly took his house as a safe haven. His family was affluent. He lived in a home with too many rooms to count. It was a stark difference from either of your parents homes. His family was also the most caring group of people you had ever known. It was evident after the first few visits that they had taken quite a liking to you.

It took you a long time to understand just how much the Maximoff’s cared for you. There was one instance that solidified how much you meant to them.

“Y/n, come over later tonight. Mama misses you, she said she'd make your favorite,” the then 16-year-old Pietro commented as you exited school grounds.

“I’ll try, but this is my mom’s week.”

Pietro frowned, “That just means you should come over earlier.”

You gave him a sad smile, “You know I want to, it’s just- you know how she is.”

His jaw clenched, “Abusive.”

Your gaze lingered on the floor. You heard him sigh loudly before you felt his arms wrapped securely around you. His chin rested on top of your head as he hugged you like you were going to disappear. You fight the urge to say that you were sorry, he hated when you apologized for no reason.

“I’m sorry, you know I just don't want you getting hurt,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I know,” your voice was smaller than you liked it to be. Pietro always found a way to show your more vulnerable side.

He released the hug and looked at you with soft eyes, “Be safe, Y/n.”

You nodded curtly, “I will.”

The walk home was as anxiety provoking as it always was. Dread filled your body as you approached the run-down apartment complex. You tried to be quiet as you entered your mother’s apartment.

“Well, where have you been all day?” You knew that tone indicated that your mother was already drunk.

“School,” you answered shortly, attempting to continue to your room.

“Don’t walk away when I'm talking to you,” her words made you freeze in your tracks.

There was venom in her glare as she looked at you, “Lucas would've been in his second year of college this year, if you weren't so fucking careless.”

You inhaled slowly, knowing there was nothing you could respond to her with.

“Probably would've been top of his class. He would've had friends and a girlfriend, but because of you he's been rotting in the ground for 8 years because of you.”

You balled up your hands into fists, digging your nails into the skin of your palm. You needed something to ground you, to keep you from crying as your mother continued to speak.

“If he could see you now, he would regret saving your life. You’re stupid, you’re ugly, and you’re disgusting. Still dressing like a little boy at your age, like the sinner I know you are.”

You couldn’t hold your tongue, “He wouldn't even recognize you, you drunk piece of shit.”

She slapped you, “Don’t you dare speak to me like that.”

Your cheek stung and your gaze hit the floor.

“You should've died instead. You’re hardly even a girl, we could've had another daughter.”

You couldn't take it anymore. Walking away from her, you went to your room. She followed you, but that didn't deter you from throwing all of your things into a duffle bag.

“Where do you think you're going?”

You ignored her and continued to grab the things you cared for. She screamed more as you packed but you didn't give her an answer. Once you were done, she was stood in your doorway with a wild look in her eyes.

“Leaving,” is all you said as you roughly pushed past her.

“Did you just put your hands on me?”

Her tone was hysterical. You kept moving through the apartment calmly. It wasn’t until she threw a glass bottle at the wall near you that you flinched. It shattered right by your head. Glass shards flew towards your face, and you felt one slice through your cheek.

You weren’t stunned by her actions. She had done this before in her drunken rage. The glass shattering was just what she needed to get within arms reach of you. Her bony fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly. You hissed at the feeling, knowing there would be bruising.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” she attempted to pull you back, but you were stronger than her.

You pried her fingers off of your wrist. The freedom didn’t last for long as she grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to slam you backwards onto the ground. While you were on the ground, she kept one hand wrapped in your hair as she started to stomp and kick you.

The pain was immense. You struggled against her, trying to find her hand that was holding your hair. When you found it, you grabbed her arm similarly to how she had grabbed yours. You squeezed as hard as you could, and you heard her shriek. Her grip on your hair dropped and as soon as it did you pushed the woman away from you.

“No one wants you; no one cares about you. You don’t even have anywhere to go, you worthless fucking murderer,” your mother stood still where you pushed her to. She tried to bluff you and you knew it.

“Anywhere is better than here,” you rushed for the door.

She threw one more bottle near the exit and you felt a sharp pain in your side, but you kept moving. Your entire body was burning, but you didn’t stop moving.

You let your feet carry you until you realized you were standing in front of the Maximoff’s house. Usually, you'd text Pietro and he'd get the door for you, but instead you rapidly knocked on the door before ringing the bell.

You didn't wait too long before the door swung open, revealing Pietro’s older sister, Wanda. She looked happy to see you until she noticed your state. She gasped silently before gently pulling you into the house. You could hear the light family chatter happening in the dining room.

Wanda took your bag from you and led you to the rest of the family. Fear coursed through your veins as your heart started to pick up speed. You didn’t want them to see you like this. Wanda sensed this shift in you and spoke.

“We’re going to help, I promise,” her words were few but there was a conviction in them.

You took a deep breath and let her take you into the room with the others. When they saw you, the chatter stopped. Your eyes locked on to Pietro’s. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked at you.

His voice was shaky as he spoke, “She did this to you?”

That’s all it took for you to burst into tears. You collapsed into Wanda’s arms, and she held you upright.

“Wanda, Flora, take her upstairs get her cleaned up and prep a room for her. Pietro, come with me,” Dragos softly ordered his wife and kids.

Without much effort Wanda picked you up and carried you to the upstairs bathroom, her mother trailed behind her. Wanda sat you on the bathroom counter before rummaging through a few cabinets.

“Mama, I can patch her up while you get the room ready,” Wanda said, already prepping to help you.

Flora left the room, leaving just you and Wanda. You were hardly there; your eyes were cloudy as Wanda looked into them. She could tell you were far away.

“Y/n, I need to know where you’re hurt. I see you’ve got a cut on your face and some bruising on your arm, anything else sweetheart?”

You were hesitant and Wanda saw you fiddling with the end of your shirt. Her hands were delicate as they rested on top of yours, “You’re hurt under there?”

You nodded slightly.

“Can I take a look?” Her eyes looked into yours begging for permission.

You lifted the shirt up not only to reveal a bruise forming but a shard of glass sticking out of your side. It was like seeing the glass triggered something in you as more tears began flooding down your face.

“I’m going to fix it ok, sweetheart. You can trust me. It might hurt a little, but you’ll feel loads better after.”

The most painful part was Wanda removing the glass. Your hands gripped the counter until your knuckles were turning white. The red head talked you through everything she was doing, which gave you a little comfort. She also praised you for being as still as possible as she knew how much this was hurting. Though she imagined it wasn’t worse than the wounds being inflicted.

Once she was done, you felt a lot better. You could tell that she wanted to ask you something by the way her eyes wouldn’t leave your figure.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes locked on to her eyes. They were a soft green tone; they held a certain warmth to them. It was easy to get lost in them.

You hummed in response to her.

“Can I ask, what happened?”

Your thumb tapped the pads of your fingers and you focused on them as you answered Wanda, “My mom got mad at me because I wanted to leave. “

You saw Wanda’s jaw clench and it was almost identical to Pietro’s from earlier in the day, “She’s never going to lay a finger on you again. We’re going to protect you.”

Leaning forward slightly you rested your head on her shoulder. She smelled good and it calmed your nerves. She let you stay in that position until there was a knock on the door.

“I brought some pajamas and towels for a shower. Do you think you'll need help or can I steal this one for a moment,” Mrs.Maximoff peaks through the door.

Wanda looked at you for an answer, “I can do it myself.”

The older woman sent you a small smile, “Very good dear. Just holler if you need anything.”

Wanda paused before she exited the bathroom, “After your shower I'm going to bandage your torso, ok? Be gentle around the tender areas.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” she smiled at your words and left at that.

When you were finally alone with your thoughts, your tears began to fall again. You let the hot water of the shower cascade down your back. The stinging sensation felt good on your skin. The words your mom said were echoing through your head. You knew they wouldn't be going away any time soon.

While you showered Pietro gave his family some insight into your life. He had told them your brother died in an accident and your mother blamed you. He spoke briefly about your father’s busy working schedule but went into details about your mother’s abuse.

Even the short version of events was heartbreaking to the family.

Flora met her husband’s eyes, “She can’t go back there Dragos.”

He nodded his head in agreement, “She’s not.”

There was a dangerous look in Wanda’s gaze, “What’re we going to do about that bitch?”

Dragos looked at his daughter with a slight smile on his lips, “We’re going to take care of her. She’s not going to bother Y/n, ever again, unless she's got a death wish.”

“If she’s going to stay here, she needs to know the truth,” Pietro said looking down at the table.

“What good would that do her? She’s already had enough,” Wanda defended.

Pietro’s glare matched Wanda’s, “She’s my best friend and we all know there’s a danger that comes with being in this household. If she’s at risk to be hurt, then she deserves to know, and I will tell her.”

“We can keep her safe without her knowing,” Wanda argued back.

“I am not lying to her,” Pietro said with finality.

Wanda scoffs, “You have for all this time, what’s the difference?”

Pietro slammed his fist down on the table, “I would’ve told her from the start if it was an option. She has barred her soul to me, entrusted me with her deepest fears and secrets, you don’t know her like I do.”

“I know she came here barely able to talk, a piece of glass lodged in her side, a cut under her eye, her entire midsection is a bruise. “

“That doesn't mean she doesn’t deserve to know the truth.”

Neither of them was backing down.

“The truth about what?”

The family shifted their attention to you. Pietro crossed his arms over his chest while looking at his family expectantly. Wanda turned her attention to her father to see what he would do.

It was actually Flora who spoke, “Y/n if you’re going to be staying with us there is something we must tell you dear.”

Pietro started, “Remember when you saw my house for the first time and asked what my parents did?”

Wanda rolled her eyes at Pietro’s prolonging of the situation, “Y/n we’re a part of a crime syndicate.”

Dragos quickly corrected Wanda, “We aren’t just a part of it. I’m in charge of it. We aren't so bad either, we do a lot for the community.”

You wanted to laugh, but they looked so serious. They were waiting for your reaction, but you were still processing. This clearly wasn't a joke.

“Ok,” was all that you could muster up.

“Do you get what we’re saying dear?”

You nodded slowly. “You’re criminals,” your eyes cut over to your best friend, “All of you?”

Pietro tore his eyes away from you.

Wanda saw the hurt in her brother’s eyes and tried to take over, “Beyond criminals, Y/n we’re the same Maximoff family that you know. We care about you and your safety. We would never let any harm come to you.”

“Do I have to be involved with that stuff?” You questioned.

The family all eyed Dragos, seemingly searching for an answer of their own. His eyes met yours, “I will never make you do anything you don't want to do. However, if this is something you're interested in all you have to do is ask.”

You took in a deep breath, before exhaling, “Thank you for letting me stay.”

Flora shook her head, “You’re family Y/n.”

For once that night you held back the tears. You let Wanda redress your wounds and then went to bed. Sleep came easier than it should’ve, you believed the Maximoff's when they said you were safe. That was the first time in your life where you felt delicate and not fragile. However, things change consistently, and life moves fast, even faster when you’re entangled with the biggest crime family in New York City.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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blughxreader · 1 year ago

Note

Speaking of the A/B/O verse and how sexually charged it is...

How would the batfam deal with their omega sister going into heat?

This is under the assumption that the reader is the only omega in the pack.

I prefer the version of heats/ruts that are non-fatal and last a few days each month (instead of menstruation). (Or a week long heat every three months, whichever.)

Prescriptions are readily available for heats/ruts, so people can go years without having them. I think several members of the Batfam are on medicine to make life simpler.

Like, what if Gotham crime spiked during Batman's rut cycle because he disappeared for a few days each month? Gothamites on twitter would have a field day with this information lol.

@ btmnboobies tweeted: "batman horney leave starts on monday. if u jerk off all day then youll be fapping the same time as him"

@ ticklealphauwu tweeted: "batman is getting plowed time to rob a bank"

So, realistically, omega!reader would be on heat suppressants.

BUT IF, for drama's sake, there was no way to avoid a heat, then I can see two options:

1. They rigorously screen and import the best heat companions, then never repeat one. It's common for long-time heat partners to become attached, so you'll never see the same alpha twice.

Of course you'll get this talk: "tell them anything and they die. I programmed artificial intelligence to listen for key words, so I will know." and the alphas will be monitored for a minimum of five years afterwards.

Each member of the batfam would rather cut off a limb than have a stranger fuck you in their own home, but it's better than you being dead (or ruining your relationship by fucking you themself).

2. Or, Batman would go to the JL.

If a JL member has a darling who happens to be an alpha, then I can see Batman considering setting you two up.

Or he'd ask a favor of Clark or Diana.

Can you fucking imagine him asking for a meeting with Wonder Woman in private and it goes

Batman: Your world has similar genetics and rituals as ours. WW: Yes, in some ways. Batman: And casual partners during times of need are commonplace. WW: Quite... Batman, expression darkening: ... My daughter... WW, finally smiling: Oh, I see. You trust me. Batman, looking physically pained: Yes. Her first heat is at home coming and we are looking for long-term solutions. For the time being, would you mind... *grinds teeth*... assisting? WW: I would be honored. :)

Then Wonder Woman plows you all weekend

Damian would be torn between "hm yes a fine arrangement becoming of my cherished sister" and "NONONO YOU CAN'T GET MARRIED YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH US FOREVER"

because DUH you'd want to lock her down. A golden opportunity to escape the batfam shows up in all her short skirt and big muscled glory.

Lol it's a silly thought but probably the only way you'd live a semi-normal life. Until WW turns out to be a crazy yandere too? 👀

#this was silly #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere wonder woman

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cyupie · 3 months ago

Text

✦ unsaid, unheard

neito monoma x gn!reader

angst to sort of comfort

word count: 2k

second person pov + purposeful all lowercase + not proof read and written late at night

✦ summary

neito monoma lets himself live in denial about his feelings towards you; it's only until you two actually drift apart that he realizes what he's lost.

you & neito had been friends for longer than you can remember; always aspiring to make it to u.a. together and become the top heroes. you remember the face he made when you both made it in, how he spun you around and treated both of you to some macarons right after. it was the best day of both of your lives.

he was always thoughtful, even if he never really confided in you — you were best friends, though, you always knew how he felt even if he didn’t say it out loud. neito knew you better than you knew yourself and vice versa. his favorite boba place & order, how he scrunches his nose up when he’s focused, and the way his eyes crinkle when he’s really really happy are forever ingrained in your memory.

you don’t know how to tell him you think you’ve fallen in love with him. you don’t think you ever will once you see how he starts to look at itsuka kendo during your second year. it’s a gradual thing — ditching your usual meetups to go see her, taking her to the new mini store that he refused to check out with you last week, the way he smiles at her — it makes your heart ache when you can’t remember the last time he smiled like that with you.

you love neito monoma.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

so, you don’t tell him. you swear that you aren’t going to ruin it for neito and itsuka because they look so happy when they’re together. people grow apart all the time; this is no different from any other friendship. you barely think about him (he’s the only thing on your mind at night) and maybe you’re even doing better off without him (your heart hurts when you see him with her).

it’s been two months since you last spoke when he finally confronts you. you were walking out of class when he drags you to the side with a stern look on his face; neito looks conflicted. he’s not worried, he reassures (you’re the only thing on his mind when everything is quiet and he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that he still thinks of you instead of itsuka when something good happens).

“i just want to know why you’re avoiding me.” he lies.

“i’m not avoiding you.” you lie back.

both of you see right through each other. neither of you comment on it.

neito thinks he wants to cry, or scream, or shake you — he doesn’t do any of that. he just sighs. “fine,” the blonde huffs as he turns away from you. “i don’t care anyways.” neito hopes you’ll say something about his blatant lie. you stay quiet.

he doesn’t see you for the next few days, he knows you’re avoiding him. neito knows you better than he’ll ever admit. the way you looked at him when he first said he thinks he has a crush on itsuka drove him insane; he tries not to think about it anymore. there’s no point.

when he’s with her, he thinks it’s love — he wants her near him all the time and he likes when she pays attention to him and he wants to do all the things he did with you but with her now. neito ignores the pit in his chest when he realizes how long it’s been since you two have hung out.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

neito monoma doesn’t care about you.

it’s fine. him and itsuka have even gotten together now, this is the happiest he’s ever been. neito swears it on his life that she makes him happier than anyone else can. he sees itsuka’s confusion when he accidentally orders your usual at the boba shop instead of hers; your tastes are so different that it’s hard to believe he could mix them up.

when he offers itsuka his own drink and takes the one you usually get instead, he thinks of you the whole time he’s drinking it. have you been to this place since you two stopped talking? neito stomps the thought away as quickly as it comes.

you seem ok, he thinks (he sees the bags under your eyes). you have new friends who’ll probably treat you better than he ever did growing up (why does it hurt to think that?). neito stops and realizes how much he misses you when he hears your favorite song come on the radio — he remembers listening to you scream along to it anytime you heard it.

he finds you after school, talking to some kid from class 1a (why them? why not him? was he not enough for you anymore?) and he thinks he’s going to cry. neito smirks, instead, and leans against the wall before laughing, “so this is where you’ve been? going behind our class’ back to hang out with these hero wannabes?”

he doesn’t know why he says that.

“oh,” is all you say at first and he wants to apologize over and over again until you stop looking at him like that. why do you look at him like you don’t care anymore? why can’t you look at him like you did before you both came to u.a. — before itsuka? “did you need something?”

neito pauses. no, he didn’t; why was he here?

“just wondering where our little y/n went; haven’t seen them in a hot minute.” he remarked, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. neito internally grimaced at his choice of words.

“you see me in class everyday.” you point out.

“and then you disappear to who knows where.”

“i don’t see a problem.”

“i do.”

“why?”

i don’t know, his thoughts answer. why does he have an issue with it? you two have been drifting apart for a while. it was inevitable, friendships don’t last forever (neito’s heart aches when he thinks of never talking to you again).

“because you’re hanging out with those 1a losers instead of us,” he settles with, ignoring the way his subconscious corrects it to instead of me.

“they’re my friends.” you argue, seemingly defensive over them.

“and i’m not?”

“are you?” your question makes you both share a look. your friend has long gone, unsure of how to deal with this seemingly personal argument between you two. you find the words repeating in your own head. it doesn’t feel like you’re still friends.

so why do you still feel that pit in your chest when you look at him and remember how much you love how pretty his eyes are, or how that one strand of hair never stays where neito wants it to and he has to fix it constantly throughout the day.

you find yourself hoping he says yes.

he walks away, instead.

it hurts more than you’d ever admit; neito doesn’t want you to see how much it hurts that he can’t even call you his friend anymore. neito doesn’t want to admit that it’s his fault, either.

he goes to itsuka for comfort — she’s always been good at that. she strokes his hair softly and is so much softer with him than she’s ever been; why does it make the ache in his heart feel worse? why does he look up at her and expect — hope — to see your face instead?

neito can’t shake the thoughts away this time.

whenever he walks into class, he looks for you first; whenever he’s practicing, he wonders who you’ve been partnered with; whenever he gets a sliver of free time, he thinks what’s y/n doing? it drives him insane. it isn’t until he breaks down to itsuka about it that her response makes him realize anything.

“i think we should break up, neito.” she says calmly. neito thinks his whole world is ending around him.

“what? why?” he finds himself asking. he thought they were doing good, he wanted to talk and communicate; she’s always told him how important it is to communicate. why is this her reaction?

she gives him a pitying look — suddenly, he’s not so upset. irritated would be a better word.

“don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“see what? why are you being so cryptic?”

“neito, you poor, poor soul.” itsuka sighs and neito finds himself wishing you were there more than he ever has before. you wouldn’t have been so vague with him about whatever this is, you’d have been straight to the point.

and then it clicks.

it clicks how badly he messed up. suddenly, itsuka’s unclear words and her (well-meaning) laughter at his wide eyes makes so much sense. suddenly, he wishes he could take this whole year back. it feels like all the walls he worked so hard to build up are crumbling around him as his feelings jumble and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

neito monoma doesn’t know who he loves.

it’s a few weeks later, and the school year has flown by. valentine’s day is coming around the corner and you find yourself wondering how neito is. he loved cheesy things, the stereotypical and the type of things that only happened in stories or tv shows — you wondered how he was going to cope with itsuka having broken up with him so close to valentine’s.

and then there’s a knock on your door at 1am on valentine’s day morning. you shuffle around, not knowing who it is. you don’t really care; your hair is a mess and you’re in your pajamas and just about ready to scold the hell out of whoever’s—

neito.

he has a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers (or at least, the ones that remind him of you the most) and a bag filled with gifts. he’s looking at you expectantly and his face is flushed and you’re not sure what to say or how to feel or why he’s even here in the first place. you two just stare at each other for a minute.

“hi.” neito greets. he looks like he immediately wanted to say anything else and shrink back into a corner never to be seen again after he realizes how awkward this whole thing is.

“hi.” you say back. you’re no better than he is.

he holds out the bouquet of flowers and neito’s holding back a million words in his head as you take them. “i got you stuff,” he blurts out as he gestures to the bag in his hand.

“i can see,” and he looks like he’s just about ready to give up on this whole endeavor. you pause. you’re staring again. neito stares back.

you sigh, opening the door further and gesturing for the other to come in. he doesn’t hesitate as he steps in and moves to the side for you to awkwardly shuffle around him and shut the door. neito sets the bag on the ground and you put the bouquet on its side on your desk.

all you can do is wonder what you’re going to do with them as he starts taking out the gifts.

it’s your favorite snacks and a plushie of your favorite animal — he’s sure it hasn’t changed — and a gift card to that damn boba place. he’s looking at you and waiting for a response and you just stare. neito thinks he’s done something horribly, horribly wrong when you start crying.

“hey, wait- i’m sorry. why are you..” his voice trails off as he looks at you. he never knew how to comfort people, no matter how eloquent he was with his insults and endless rants about 1a. and you’re staring up at him with tear-filled eyes and he feels his heart break for the thousandth time.

all you can manage is, “i thought you hated me.”

and he pauses. he looks at you and you look at him and more gently than you think he’s ever done anything before he brings you into a hug and you’re safe. neito doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t need to. he doesn’t like to be vulnerable, he’s never liked being vulnerable.

but you’re here in his arms and he knows you understand that better than anyone. you’ve always understood. he’s so stupid for having never noticed it — you — before.

neito monoma loves you.

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allfearstofallto · 5 months ago

Note

What would Yuri (your yandere bulter OC) do if his lady had an arranged marriege and was meeting the person she was arranged to marry with?

(Y'all make me so happy I could die!! I've been unironically imagining this scenerio for months!!!)

Yandere! Male OC x Reader

“You're much too young to be wed,” Yuri whined softly as his cold finger tips helped you latch the clip of your necklace. A beautiful, pink gem nestled in the center of the neckware drew attention to your bare collar bone, the radiant skin of your chest, and the lovely smile you had just above it. Yet another piece of jewelry your mother had sent you from her travels, she had such a taste for things you liked, despite hardly being around.

You merely scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes in the tandum. While he tied your hair up, you dusted yourself with perfumed powder, staring at yourself the entire time, “You must be insane, Yuri. I'm actually past the average marrying age.”

That much was true. Girls of your status typically married much much younger, usually right after coming of age. Even you yourself received many letters begging for a chance to meet after your debutante, which Yuri would swiftly burn in your fire place when you expressed your distate. You had things holding you back. You longed for schooling, travel, and a the freedom of being young and not tied down. Both your father and Yuri took this news excitedly and never pushed for you to get wed. They both even excitedly told you that you'd never have to leave the manor and if you so pleased, you'd be pampered for the rest of your life.

It sounded nice in theory, living off of your fathers wealth and being a bachelorette until the day you died, but many women at your tea parties were talking about their prospects, fiances, and even their husbands, and suddenly you felt as if you could no longer relate anymore. And the even more harsh realization hit you, that you were lonely. You'd sit quietly at the table, sipping your tea nervously and realizing that maybe it was time for you to begin viewing romance in a different light, not as a hindrance chaining you down, but a new beginning in life.

Your father was expectedly saddened by your announcement and Yuri…well, Yuri’s expression was hard to read. He stood silently for a bit, his lips formed in a tight line, eyebrows starting to furrow a bit behind his thick, round glasses. It was a face you'd never seen him make before, him typically preferring laid back or soft expression.

“You can't actually be serious, my lady,” Yuri forced himself to not sound more hurt than he actually was, but if you listened closely, you could hear his voice tremble, “You always said you'd stay in the manor forever.”

You glanced at yourself once over again in your full body mirror, feeling shy and almost slightly over dressed in the gown you chose. It was such a strange feeling, the way your heart was thumping in your chest, and you couldn't tell if it was excitement or nerves. You could see Yuri behind you in your reflection, a frown still formed on his lips.

“I said that when I was eight! You can't trust the words of a child,”

Yuri sighed again, pushing his snow, white hair out of his face in a sign of stress. A stress reflex that you seldom saw him do. Yuri was a man that was so calm and composed, yet today he was showing so much anxiety. And for what, you'd didn't know.

“Then what of me? This man you're meeting, he's the Duke two cities over. I am here to serve you, my lady, won't I go with you?”

“I'd hate to uproot your life, Yuri,” you began with a sad tone. You couldn't fathom the idea that he could look any sadder, yet as you spoke, his face fell even farther, “B-but mother will be home shortly! She sent a letter saying that it will only be a few more weeks, you could still stay in the manor and tend to her instead.”

Your suggestion is met with a shallow, solemn shake of his head, “You are my life, my lady. I wish to serve no one else.”

#mai<3 answers #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere male #male yandere #yandere content #yandere aesthetic #yandere

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messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago

Text

To Lose a Dream

Summary: Leon would make any amount of wishes to make his dreams come true, but the events of Racoon change your lives forever. (Leon S. Kennedy x reader)

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: ✨ Second Leon done! ✨ I feel it's a little rough only cause my eyes are so tired. This was a chunky piece to write so please keep that in mind haha. Roughly a third through this challenge, I don't know what I'll do with myself not writing for you all every day haha, it's honestly been such a fun month. I feel like I haven't kept some of the past themes well/ I made them vague and mentioned them in like one line, but I hope this one is clearer! Back to some DC ones in the next few days. Enjoy~! xx

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You didn’t know what to expect, coming alongside Leon.

Worry ate at your bones, staring out the window of the car as you hurtle towards Raccoon City. The rain batters at the windows, tracing patterns on the glass as you try to make out any shapes in the darkness. A hand on your thigh snaps you out of your stressed sighing, catching sight of Leon. He's got his eyes still trained on the road, the rain hard and heavy.

"He's going to be fine. I promise."

Leon does his best to soothe you, but the vice grip around your heart still doesn’t let up. You put your hand over his, curling your fingers around his larger digits. "I don't know." you say, voice tinged with fear. He squeezes your hand back weakly, the little comfort that he can provide right now.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious. Your brother hasn't answered a few calls? maybe he's just busy." Leon tries to say, keeping his tone light-hearted. "Either way, I'm sure he will be happy to see you. How long has it been since you talked?"

"He didn't call to wish me a happy birthday." you murmur, head leaning against the window. "We talked just last week."

Leon shrugged. "Maybe he just got busy?" he tries to delicately put.

"He doesn’t just miss those calls. He always makes sure that he calls. Something just feels wrong, I know it." you whisper, fist clenching in your lap. "Not to mention your work called you and told you not to come in. All my friends in raccoon aren't picking up either. I can't manage to get onto the Raccoon City news channel. Doesn't that worry you at least a little?" you stress, voice rising.

He waves his hand gently, trying to get you to lower your voice. "I understand, I do. But let's go into the city before anything happens, okay? It'll only hurt you more running through ‘what if’ scenarios before we even get there. We just need to hold it together a little longer, okay?"

You sigh in defeat and turn away, making Leon bite his lip and focus on the road once more.

He hated fighting with you, hated seeing you upset. He couldn't help the way his heart sank when your turn away from him, and he can't stop the voice in his head telling him that it was his fault. Even if you told him otherwise, he ached seeing you so stressed. You had come to him crying that night worried that your brother hadn't called you like he did annually, more so when the phone wouldn’t even connect to his when you tried to return it. Seeing you so distressed he let you come with him to Racoon City, knowing he was heading in for his first scheduled day. He just wanted to alleviate your worry and anxiety, but now Leon was starting to feel like he had just made it worse by bringing you along. You kept talking about the feeling in your gut, the cold that seeped to freeze your heart over with fear.

He kept brushing it off, doing his best to assure you that everything was okay, but as he pulled up to the outskirts of Raccoon City, he knew he should have believed you.

He should have turned the car around when he saw the smoke, when he saw the fire flickering off the windows. Should have listened to you halfway down the highway the first time you said you felt anxious and taken you both home. Then you both would have been safe, anxious and worried, but safe, nonetheless. Instead, he drives forward, eyes widening in the carnage as you roll to a stop. Cars and buildings are on fire, debris and shattered glass scattered over the road.

"I think we should-" he tries to say around the lump in his throat, but the sound of a car door slamming breaks his thought. His eyes widen with fear, blood cooling as he sees you through the windscreen glass, running down the street.

He jumps into action like he's been shocked, running from the driver’s seat and unbuckling himself like he was branded. "Hey!" he calls out, voice stern but terrified. He pushes his legs to catch up with you, lungs burning when he finally does. "Do not run off on me, you understand?" he yells, spinning you around to face him. You turn, studying him. Panic is etched onto every line of his face, pupils shifting rapidly as he checks you over. "This isn't safe, we need to think. It's not safe for you."

"But it's safe for you?" you snap back, making him falter. "I'm not leaving till I find my brother. He might be trapped here, with no one to help. I have to know what's happening." tears burn at your lashes and your hands wipe them away. His heart shatters and he pulls you in for a tight hug, like the both of you aren't standing in the middle of a crater ridden road. "it's gonna be okay, I promise." he whispers into your hair.

He wished upon every star and every cell in his body that he could rewind time so that you never found your brother.

Very quickly the both of you realised that something awful had happened to the city, when the first resident came ambling after you and nearly took a chunk out of Leon's arm. Now both of you were sneaking into around your brother’s neighbourhood, armed with only some wooden planks you ripped from a boarded-up store.

You were adamant that you were going to find your brother, and you resisted every time that Leon tried to bring you back to the car and away from all of this. When you finally saw the figure of your older sibling, you thought you were about to collapse in relief. With a sigh and grateful tears springing to your eyes, you called his name, wood weapon dropping from your hands.

You couldn't hear Leon's screams for you to get back over the thudding of your feet on the broken-up road, eyes too blurred with tears to see the way that your brother walked with a limp. When you threw yourself on him you squeezed your eyes shut, about to sob in happiness. However, when you felt him turn to embrace you back, a blooming pain ran through your shoulder.

With a shriek your eyes fly open and you try to push him off, ears rushing with the sound of blood and Leon's shouting. You look into the face of your brother, his visage more flesh than skin. His skin was puckered and eyes a milky white, hair patchy and skin blood drained.

He was gone.

"Get off!" Leon hollers from behind you, swinging the plank directly into your brothers- no, the zombie's face, and sending it staggering backwards. He catches you as you stumble back, pulling your flush against his chest. Your hands fly up to try and staunch the sticky flow of blood, shock beginning to settle in.

"Hey, hey, look at me." he commands, eyes darting between you and the corpse struggling to get up from the ground. "We need to get going, can you do that for me?"

You look back, breath hitching as you see what remained of your brother. You remembered his smile, his hugs. The way he lifted you up when you were little and swung you around the room while you pretended to be a superhero. Now all that remained was a blood hungry pile of flesh and bone, filled with a dark malice.

"Sweetheart, you need to focus."

Leon's tense voice cuts through the fog in your mind, his hand coming to press down hard over yours on the wound. You manage a shaky breath and a brief nod of your head, an action that make you wince as your shoulder burns violently.

"Okay, okay, let's get you somewhere safe." he murmurs mostly to himself, an arm coming around you to keep you close to his side. His heartbeat races with worry, scanning his brain for anything. This wasn't his city; he hadn't even visited before tonight. You provided the directions up until now, but with the ragged way you were breathing, you weren't really in the position to help him. in the distance, his peripheral vision strikes a hit.

The sign of the RPD burns itself into his vision, and he quickly reroutes his steps to hurry there.

"Hold on, just a little longer." he says quietly down to you, anxiety peaking as he watches as you half stumble over your own feet.

He wished on the moon and the sky that he had never brought you to the Raccoon City Police Department.

Within, you had both found yourselves befriending an officer named Marvin, who was injured similarly to you. Leon had gotten chewed out pretty badly for showing up regardless of the call that told him not to, something Leon defended in the way you know only Leon could. You were resting on a spare stretcher next to Marvin, bite patched up weakly with some bandages that were already damp with red.

Despite the situation, you couldn't help the smile that flitted over your face when Leon came back into the room, dressed in the RPD uniform.

"Don't you look handsome." you say softly, making him chuckle. He comes to lean down by your side, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "I'm starting to think that you just like a guy in uniform." he teases, a light blush dusting the bridge of his nose.

"Could you blame me?" you tease back, and he shakes his head with a light scoff. He helps you sit up, and you swing your feet to touch the marble floor of the RPD lobby. You wished you could remember the sparkle in those bright blue eyes, before Marvin made him go to the office to fetch something. You followed after him softly, despite your boyfriend's insistence that you stay back to rest.

"It's not that far." you say softly, pointing in the direction. "Just that room, okay?"

He had looked to Marvin, but the older officer looked away and held his hands up, muttering something about not getting involved.

That's why you were here now, watching him forlornly as he gingerly traches his fingers along the wood that was going to be his desk. His back rounds as he leans on the desk, blonde hair flopping pathetically as he tries to hold himself together.

'W E L C O M E L E O N ' hangs above the desk in yellow and blue, decorated just for him. You watch just behind him on the small stairs overlooking the area, letting him have the moment to himself. He sinks lower so he can sit in the chair, staring up at the decorations with his hands in his lap. You can imagine him here during the day, the hustle and bustle of the office around him. You imagine his coworkers flitting around him, giving him smiles and maybe even ruffling his hair. You can picture his wide smile, your favourite one, stretching across his face as the older officers give him shit for being a rookie.

The memory glows like a warm sun, a golden hope that flickered between the both of you. The ideals that he whispered to you when you went to bed, his tone soft and giddy even though he tried to control it. His hopes, dreams and plans for the future he told you with a soft smile, eyes hazy as he let himself daydream before drifting off to sleep next to you.

Your hands clench on the banister, heart aching. The first day he never got to have, but the first day that he had dreamed of ever since he graduated the police academy.

The first day that he deserved.

You watch your boyfriend take a deep breath, and the golden 'what if' that played around him like a movie faded away until it was just you two back in that cold, dark, room. You go to call out to him, but you voice wavers like there’s a block in it. You only make a half-gurgled sound, eyes rolling into your head as the world spins.

As soon as he hears you hit the ground behind him, he's up and out of his seat, panic flooding his senses for the second time. Leon half drags you back into the adjoining room, setting you back onto the stretcher. Marvin is by his side in an instant, fingers going to press against your neck.

You can hear them talking, but it's like there's an undercurrent of thought.

So hungry...

You groan at the intrusion in your mind, making Leon shush you and grip your hand. "Don't try to speak." he says softly, worry tinging his tone. Despite both of their hands you try to sit up, whole body burning. Your skin feels too hot, like a frog realising it's been trapped in the pot. Your breath feels short and tight in your chest, vision swimming as you try to make out the people in front of you.

"How are you feeling?" Marvin asks, and your eyes flit over to him. you shake your head.

"Bad." you croak out. "It feels bad. It feels really really bad." you cry, face splitting into a sob as your shoulder pulses painfully. "it's all hot everywhere, and it's hard to breathe, and it all hurts."

You hate these people...

You close your eyes to try and prevent the words that wriggle into your mind, twisting and warping like worms. You shake your head. "I don't feel good. Please." you splutter. "Please what do I do?"

Lean turns to Marvin, frantic in his words. "What do I have to do? How can we help?" he rushes out, grabbing the older man's arm. However, Marvin doesn't respond, face grim and taking a step back from you.

"She's turning fast." he murmurs lowly, regarding you with caution. You writhe, still seated on the stretcher, not even feeling the dull pain when your overheated body collides with the marble floor. Leon goes to help you up, but Marvin holds him back.

"You have what was in the box on your desk?" Marvin murmurs, making Leon's breath hitch.

"Yes." he breathes back, eyes wide and fearful. "You don't mean to-"

Marvin nods. "I'm sorry, son. Look at how fast she's changing. She'll hurt you. She isn't changing normally."

And you weren't.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, causing you to shriek and wail in between your hiccups and sobs as you rolled on the floor. It felt like there was fire consuming your entire body, scorching your nerves and arteries. You look up at Leon through hazy eyes, pushing onto your hands and knees. "Leon," you rasp. "Leon, help me. Please. Please, please help me." you sob. It feels hard to get air into your lungs from the hands of panic closing around your lungs. You manage to crawl, looking up at him through tears.

Leon himself has tears dripping down his nose and cheeks, eyes wide and skin pale. There’s a tremor in his body, his breathing short. he doesn’t look entirely there, but he takes a deep breath before looking at Marvin.

"No. No, I can't do this." he says, voice breaking. "Where's the cure? You bastard, tell me where the cure is!" he yells at Marvin, face scrunching in desperation. Marvin shakes his head, leaning on the wall to support his own weakened body.

"That is the cure, son." he tries to say softly, but it's hard with the young man raging in front of him.

"Cure?" you croak, making Leon look down at you. He makes a heart shattering sound as you look up at him, his lips wobbling. That's when you see the gun shaking in his other hand, half hidden behind his body, and you freeze. You begin trying to crawl away backwards.

"No, no." you murmur, voice weak and shaky. "Please, no."

Your skin is itching violently, like a million mosquitoes came to take the blood from you, leaving welts in their wake. "Please, Leon. I wanna live. Please no, I'm sorry." you voice breaks and tears stream down your cheeks.

You hate them, YOU HATE THEM....

You hold your head and wail as the thoughts get worse.

HUNGRY.

"Please Leon, please." your murmur, rocking back and forth. "Leon, please, save me. spare me, please." you whimper, but you aren't sure if you even manage to pronounce the words properly. Your vision feels murky, and as you tip your head up you can hardly see out of your right eye. Your left eye takes in the blurry image of Leon, red faced and wiping frantically at his eyes.

"Leon, I love you." you call out weakly, a pitiful sound crawling from the depths of your throat that resonates in the quiet lobby.

Leon wished on whatever god and heaven above that after what he was about to do, they would let you through their doors.

Leon feels like he can't breathe. His heart is racing so hard he thinks he might have a heart attack, or the organ was going to speed right out of his chest. The only thing in his ears is the rushing of blood and the thumping of his heartbeat. His lips are stained with tears, eyes feeling like they're about to swell from the pressure from crying.

He wanted to believe you. He wanted to save you. He wanted to love you.

You still had days together, a future that needed to be made. But when he saw you as you looked up at him, the way one of your eyes was already a milky white and the way your skin seemed to pucker, he knew you were going. His heart tore at every scream and wail of desperation that left your lips as you writhed in pain, and he felt his soul tear every time you begged for him to listen, to not kill you. The way you begged for your life like he was some kind of executioner.

But he knew in the bottom of his heart, that you were gone. You were fading in front of him quicker than he could preserve the memory of your face, or the way your face split when you were smiling instead of screaming. He knew it in the bottom of his heart when you hit the floor rolling off the medical bed, not noticing the blood that trickled from your temple when you sat up. You were unaware of the way your lips spilled blood like a waterfall onto your chin and chest. You didn't say anything about the way your skin inflamed and warped, the veins in your arms filling with a sickly hue. Yet with your one good eye you pleaded with him, the only thing left of you the colour that he adored.

The colour he made his stationary so he could think of you even while he was at work. The colour that he went and bought a tie in so he could match you for events and Christmas parties. the colour that he had daydreamed you passing on to kids one day. He watched the colour fade from your left eye like he was watching a sunset, the beautiful hue slowly become murky while your mouth still wordlessly pleaded at him.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he whispers, although he isn't even sure if you can hear him with the tremor in his voice. He raises the gun, gripping it the way that he was taught. "I love you too."

Then there was a bang, a soft thud, and the lobby was quiet once more.

September 30th, 1998.

That was the date that Leon lost the two most important dreams of his life.

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