#there are two people from her past she will trust without a second thought even now and that's Kicho & Mori

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[nobuverse]

@loyaltyloved said: 194cm ↕ (mori @ nobu but she can ride his shoulders so she wins this round)

» send me ↕ + your muse’s height

A-yup! That's her best friend right there ! BEST. BODYGAURD. EVER.

[ellieputellas]

the bird | epilogue

tags: future!Alexia, future!reader, post-graduation setting

taglist: @alexiaputellasera @sapphicdarlingx @profoundcoffeepeanut @therealgbaby @batllexreina @my-favorite-sign-blog @wosowriter23 @groovyblazeturtle @violetromanova

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ chapter one 🕊 chapter two 🕊 epilogue

It had been over three years since you last saw Alexia.

After that last day in Sister Philomena’s office, Alexia was expelled. There were several, baseless rumors about what happened to her but all you knew for sure was that she was kicked out of the school that same day and you’ve never heard anything about her again. It was as if she disappeared as quickly as she appeared in your life.

Your fate, however, had been different. You remained at the school, subjected to endless, one-on-one sessions with the sisters. They called it “guidance,” but it felt more like indoctrination — a relentless effort to force-feed the beliefs they so piously upheld. 

But it wasn’t the sermons or the pray-overs that wore you down, though; it was the pity.

The word had spread through the school that Alexia had kidnapped you and assaulted you. It didn’t hurt that they painted you as a victim but it pained you deeply that the love of your life was painted as a villain, a spawn of the devil.

What’s worse was that you couldn’t do anything but nod politely at those who offered their condolences and looked at you pitifully since there was always a hovering sister or another praepostor that would snitch on you to Sister Philomena if you said anything in defense of Alexia. 

Ingrid and Maria were your only allies in all of it. 

The sisters had always trusted Ingrid; she was practically the second choice for the ideal student after you. They favored you for your quiet humility, a stark contrast to Ingrid's bubbly, energetic demeanor, which never quite suited the older sister’s preferences.

But now, it seemed the tides had shifted. They lost confidence in you and Ingrid had earned their trust, perhaps even more than you ever had.  You didn’t mind, though. You no longer cared about the sisters' opinions and being placed under Ingrid’s wing was something you actually appreciated. When the nuns assigned her to pray the rosary with you every night or do a novena – tasks any other praepostor, including your past self, would have dutifully obeyed – Ingrid had her own way of doing things. Instead of complying, Ingrid and you would simply chat, vent, or play games. You probably would have gone insane without her.

And even though you weren’t particularly close to Maria at first with your interactions mostly limited to the times you both hung out with Ingrid or Alexia, she gradually became a central figure in your life. She was in the same year level as you, so she often ended up sitting beside you in class. Her presence became invaluable during those tough days when you were too depressed to function. Maria would quietly help you catch up on homework, offering her support without judgment. Over time, she became your best friend.

The couple practically held you up and prevented you from slipping into insanity. They understood what you were going through – possibly, the only people in that school who could have. And, naturally, the three of you became inseparable, which the nuns loved because they thought they set a good example for you. Little did they know, they too were both raging homosexuals.

When you and Maria graduated together, Ingrid practically bawled her eyes out. Aside from missing the two of you, she also would have to be stuck in that hellhole for another year all alone. 

Once you left school, life was anything but smooth. You lied to your parents, telling them you were embarking on a religious outreach mission to “help the poor lost souls in third-world countries” in an effort to make spiritual amends for your past transgressions. Maria didn’t just agree to help; she took it even further, asking help from her cousins and friends to make fake admission letters, websites, and notices to sell the story. As soon as they agreed, you were practically out of the house, never to return again.

You wanted to try and find Alexia as soon as you left your house but it became difficult to even find the time to do so.

You and Maria moved to the city, living in a small crappy apartment that cost way too much. You scraped by together taking on odd jobs. Maria was lucky to play for a small football club and also, often did tattooing gigs at the nearby tattoo shop for extra funds. On the other hand, you worked two jobs: a Spanish tutor in the morning and a receptionist at the tattoo shop where Maria worked on weekends. You both worked to the bone for an entire year, incredibly exhausted with no time for yourselves. But as grueling as it was, life in the city still felt freer than the rigid confines of the boarding school. For the first time, you could live authentically.

After a year, Ingrid graduated and finally joined you, moving into the tiny apartment that somehow became even smaller with the three of you crammed inside. Though, on a positive note, Ingrid immediately got picked up by a football club, and with her salary, it was easier to pay the rent and bills. This meant that you could have more time for yourselves. Ingrid and Maria even managed to save up enough for a vacation back in her hometown in Norway. And, for you, it meant that you had extra breathing room. You were finally able to drop your tutoring job, affording you the time to search for work that actually interested you.

You had a day off from the tattoo shop and something about that day made you want to explore the city. Restless and eager for something different, you decided to wander, letting the streets guide your steps without a clear destination in mind. That’s when you stumbled upon a jewelry store tucked into a quiet corner.

As you browsed, the store’s owner emerged from the backroom, greeting you warmly. She had a whimsical energy and an easy charm. Her warm aura made conversation feel natural, but it was more than just her personality pulling you in. Your curiosity about the intricate details of jewelry-making seemed to spark something in her, too. The exchange felt natural with the two of you vibing instantly.

And then, as if by chance – or fate – she mentioned it. “You seem like the perfect fit for an apprentice,” she said, beaming at you. “It’s a paid apprenticeship and if you do well enough, I’ll keep you as a permanent employee to help out with designing and jewelry-making.”

You agreed in a heartbeat. It was quite the commute from where you lived but it was worth it. The apprenticeship not only paid decently but it also helped you develop your skills in just weeks. You started off with stamping out rings and engraving jewelry. After a while, you were forging your own sample jewelry from your own designs; most of which you got to keep. You even made a ring for Ingrid and Mapi for their anniversary. 

Soon, your boss entrusted you more with doing tasks for the store. Currently, you were tasked with engraving and the polishing of certain pieces.

“Darling,” she said, her voice laced with a playful energy. “I’ve got a simple job for you now.”

You looked up from your sketchbook, where you were drafting ideas for her upcoming collection. “Oh, another engraving?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

She shook her head, the twinkle in her eye betraying the importance of the task. “Just a repair. A broken chain.”

You raised an eyebrow curiously. “Since when did we do repairs?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice. 

“Well, we don’t,” she admitted, hesitating just a moment before she continued. “But the girl who came in… she’s part of my favorite football team. I couldn’t say no, obviously.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “A footballer?” You were amused by her star-struck enthusiasm. 

She nodded, the gold chain in her hand catching the light as she passed it to you. “And she has excellent taste in jewelry, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell on the piece. The golden bird pendant was unmistakable. It was the same one that had once hung around your own neck, now broken at the same link as this one before you and abandoned in your drawer for months. You stashed it away and never looked at it after it broke; it felt like a sign that any hope you’d held onto was gone.

Yet, even if you haven’t seen it in a while, you practically memorized each contour and edge of that necklace… and you were certain that this was hers.

“Oh,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you tried to keep the sting of tears at bay. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, and your heartbeat quickened. “Do you remember her name?”

You already knew the answer – there was no way that someone else could have this very necklace – but you just had to be sure.

“Yes,” she said, a knowing smile forming. “Alexia Putellas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It’s been a while since you’ve kept up with Alexia; the last you heard was that she signed for FC Barcelona. At times, you wanted to go to a game, see her again, and maybe reconnect. But… you were scared.

The last time you saw her was in that office after you explicitly said that you didn’t love her. 

As you touched the necklace, you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest as tears continued to fill your eyes. You surreptitiously wiped your tears. “Uh, when did she say she needed it?”

“Well, she said she can come back for it in the morning,” your boss responded as she sat in front of you. “I can introduce you if you want. You’re single, right?”

You chuckled. “Well, yeah…”

She beamed. “Oh, you should definitely meet her so that when you date, I can get all the free tickets to the Barcelona games.” She teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “You totally look like you’d be her type.” 

You shrugged, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that.”

“Hmm, a pretty girl like you? You can get any football star you want.” Your boss teased. “Anyway, I trust you can fix this up.”

You nodded, looking down again at the necklace. 

Fixing the necklace took you mere minutes but for hours, until the shop’s closing, you couldn’t move on from how it found its way to you. When you came home, you took your own necklace out of the drawer, looking at it under the dim light of your tiny room. 

Do you want to see her tomorrow? What if she hated you? What if she never wanted to see you again? 

For the past two years, you’ve thought about all the scenarios that could possibly happen once you finally met her again. On more than one occasion, you’d fantasize about seeing her, rushing to your door, and bringing you flowers. When you were in the grocery, sometimes you’d ridiculously dream up a corny scenario like reaching for the same can of sardines. Sometimes, it would be sweet like that.

But oftentimes, you thought about how badly it could play out. She could shout at you for breaking your heart. She could say she's in a relationship with someone better than you, less broken. She could even ignore you, pretend nothing happened and honestly, it felt like that would be the worst possible scenario. Even worse than seeing her in love with anyone else.

You barely slept that night, touching your own necklace the entire time.

The next day, you reported to work earlier, deciding to patch up your own necklace. You looked at the two of them side-by-side, nearly identical, with yours being just a bit more detailed and polished than Alexia's.

You don’t know what came over you but when it was time to package it up. Instead of putting her necklace in the small box, you put your own, taking her necklace instead and wearing it on your neck, tucking it under your blouse.

If this is the last time I see her… and she never wants to see me again, at least I can keep this piece of her for myself.

“Good morning, darling!” Your boss chirped as she entered the backroom of the store, bringing you a cup of coffee. “I see you’ve packed up the necklace for Alexia.”

She took the box from you, opening it up and looking inside. She tilted her head slightly. “Huh,” she paused, examining the necklace closely. “Is it just me or did it get prettier?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, I just cleaned it up, removed all the build-up on it.”

She nodded, buying into your story. “Oh, that’s great! Well, she did say she was coming over soon so I’m glad you got it done before then.” She smiled. “Good job.”

She paused before walking over to you to fluff up your hair. “And put on some lipstick,” she added, jokingly. “You wanna look your prettiest when she comes. Mama needs next season's tickets.”

You gave her a weak smile back, feeling nerves kick in. In just a few hours, you were going to see her again… maybe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see her… or if you were even ready to.

You hid in the backroom for a while, pretending to sketch more designs to propose for the next collection. 

But all you could think about was her.

The bell above the store’s door rang as it opened. Alexia walked in, clad in a blazer and blonde hair still damp from her shower.

It was her off day from training but she still had a long day of work ahead of her – meetings with her agent, sorting out contracts, all the boring stuff that came with her new life as a famous football player.

After she was kicked out of the school, she decided to head back immediately to her parents, not even bothering to give her grandparents a chance to trap her. She took the train back to her hometown and walked into her parent’s home, much to their surprise. She told her family all about her experience – the homophobia, the prejudice, her terrible experience in boarding school. Even if her parents were more than willing to take her back under their wing, she knew she had to figure out a way to lighten their load. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Most importantly, she wanted to be her own woman.

She lived under her grandparents most of her life, with them dictating what she should believe in and do. When she moved to a boarding school, it was merely a change in scenery—the control remained, just in a different form. Now, all she wanted was to live for herself. She craved the freedom to make her own decisions, to follow her own desires without the constant weight of judgment or unsolicited guidance.

For once, she yearned to carve out a life that was truly her own.

She began trying out for local football camps. With her skills, it wasn’t long before she was recruited by a local team. Soon, with her performance in the small team, news made it out that there was a new hidden star player.

It all came so fast – scouts from all sorts of big clubs came over, offering her things beyond her imagination. When Barcelona came forward with a deal she couldn’t refuse, she knew her dream was finally within reach. Signing with the team wasn’t just about fulfilling her lifelong ambition, it was a chance to give back to her parents and help secure a better future for them. She knew her life would change drastically after that.

And it did. Within merely months, everything changed.

She was suddenly a big name with people all over the country coming to watch her play for one of the biggest teams in the world. It was amazing and exhilarating. She was living out her biggest fantasy.

And yet, during the rare times when she had a break and life was quiet, all she could think about was you.

Even with all she had accomplished, she felt a gnawing emptiness... feeling like she could never be completely and utterly happy. The cheers of the crowd, the support of the fans, the acclaim, not even all the trophies — they could never fill the gaping hole you had left in her life.

On that day when you said you didn’t love her anymore, her heart practically hollowed itself. She knew you were saying it to appease the nuns but it still hurt to hear you say it, for it to come from your mouth.

She repeated to herself that you didn’t mean it and that you loved her just as she loved you. She reminded herself that the circumstances were impossible, that you had no choice. But as the months dragged on and she knew you had left school, her confidence in that hope began to waver. When a year passed without a single word from you, her heart broke all over again. Maybe you had meant it.

Still, she waited. Another year passed. Ingrid had sent her a sweet message after news got out that she would play for FC Barcelona. Maria reached out a couple times too, asking Alexia if she wanted to catch up and go out for drinks.

But from you? Nothing. Not a single word.

And on the second anniversary of the last day she saw you, the chain of her necklace broke. 

She was at a celebratory party for Barcelona’s latest league championship; everyone was laughing and enjoying the win yet her thoughts drifted far away when she felt that gold chain slide down her neck, a chain broken for no apparent reason.

She was supposed to be having fun, basking in the victory, but all she could think about was you. That necklace, fragile and worn, was the only tangible thing she had left of you.

And now, it was broken.

​​“You good?” Irene’s voice broke through her thoughts. Alexia looked up to see her teammate watching her with concern as she put a hand on Alexia’s shoulder

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Alexia muttered, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her. Irene frowned, her worry deepening as she slid onto the seat beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, what’s going on?” 

Alexia let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head as she held up the broken necklace. “This… was from my ex. It’s the only thing I have left of her,” she explained in a low voice. “And now it’s broken. I can’t help but feel like… maybe it’s a sign. A sign that I need to move on.”

Irene rubbed comforting circles on Alexia’s back. “Ale, it’s not a sign,” she said gently. “It’s just a chain. They break all the time. But didn’t you say she ghosted you? Maybe it is time to move on.”

Alexia hummed in response, not fully convinced. She’d never told anyone the full story, choosing instead to let her teammates believe a half-truth — that her ex had disappeared from her life without explanation. It wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t the whole picture either.

“Yeah, but…” She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t think I’ll ever really move on.”

Irene nodded. “Wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

Alexia hummed, seriously considering it despite the hesitation. Moping around and being depressed didn't help her at all, just made her a bummer to be around. So, she figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

After agreeing, Irene set Alexia up with a good friend of hers, Olga. 

Olga was beautiful, funny, and talented, and their connection felt easy. Alexia liked her. Actually, Alexia liked her a lot. For the first time in years, she laughed freely, and Olga’s presence brought a sense of joy she hadn’t realized she was missing. She stored the necklace away, shoving it to the back of her cabinet, hoping to bury the memories along with it.

But despite Olga's warmth and the happiness she brought, there was a quiet emptiness that lingered in Alexia. It wasn't overwhelming, just a nagging feeling that something was missing. The space you had left inside her was still there, faint but persistent, no matter how much she tried to move on.

“Babe,” Olga called out from Alexia's bedroom on one of their date nights while Alexia rummaged through a pile of unfolded laundry. “Can I borrow your hoop earrings? I left mine at my place.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alexia replied, distracted as she searched for her silk shirt. Finally, she fished it out of the pile before heading back to her bedroom to put it on in front of her wardrobe mirror. "Did you find the earrings already?"

Olga hummed. "No... I found your silver ones but I wanna borrow the chunky gold ones..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to rummage. Alexia chuckled, fixing her shirt before sitting down on her bed to put on her shoes.

Moments later, Olga loudly gasped. “Oh my god, babe, can I borrow this too? It’s so pretty — oh wait, never mind," her voice dropped in disappointment. "It’s broken. Aw... this would have looked so cute on me."

Alexia looked up sharply, her heart stopping when she saw Olga holding the bird necklace. Panic filled in her chest as she practically ran across the room, snatching it from Olga’s hands. She cradled the delicate charm in her palm, her breathing stilted.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?” Olga asked with an alarmed tone.

Alexia didn’t answer immediately. She stared at the necklace, a wave of emotions crashing over her. Every distraction she had used to patch the wound you left in her heart – a new girl, football, work – all proved to be temporary fixes at that moment. She felt as though the bandaid had peeled off, the stitches had come undone and she was back to feeling that gaping wound in her chest.

“Alexia?” Olga’s voice was tentative.

“I can’t do this,” Alexia whispered, her voice cracking. "I can't do this anymore."

“What?” Olga asked, stepping closer. “What are you talking about?”

“Please,” Alexia said, her gaze still fixed on the necklace. “Just leave. Just go.”

“Alexia—”

“Go!” she repeated, her voice firmer but trembling.

Olga hesitated but eventually left, leaving Alexia alone with the broken necklace in her hand. The memories, the pain, the love she thought she could suppress — it all came rushing back, overwhelming her.

At that moment, Alexia realized that no matter how much time passed, no matter how many distractions she filled her life with, the wound you left behind couldn’t be patched up or healed. It wasn’t a scar. It was still a raw, open wound that seemed to have no cure.

Alexia felt guilty for driving away Olga, someone who obviously cared about her and someone she actually liked. But Alexia didn’t want to lead her to believe that Alexia could love her completely… not while you were still haunting her. 

How could she give her heart to someone when it was no longer hers to give, when you still owned every piece of it?

As her fingers brushed the broken chain, Alexia considered messaging Ingrid or Maria — just a quick text, something casual, to ask about you. Were you happy? Do you still live with them in Barcelona? Or had you moved on completely, finding someone else to love? Did you still think of her?

Suddenly, she was filled with thoughts of you. It ranged from memories of the two of you from school to her own concocted daydreams of where you were now. Were you finally working on jewelry? Have you fallen in love with someone else? She was full of questions.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. She could leave all of those thoughts for later. For now, she had to get this necklace repaired. To her, it wasn’t just any necklace; it was the only piece of you she had to keep for herself.

The very next day, she stopped by the nearest jewelry shop, just a block away from her house, and asked for a repair.

And that’s how she ended up there now – in the shop where you worked, just feet away from you as you nervously waited in the backroom.

“I’m here to pick up my necklace,” you heard the voice and even if it had been years, you knew it was her. A flutter in your stomach formed. “I dropped it off yesterday. Here's the receipt, if you need it.”

“Oh, of course, my jeweler had it finished yesterday,” you heard your boss say. You looked over through the doorway to the main shop and saw her looking at you as if calling you over. You caught a glimpse of Alexia's hair and sleeve. You bit your lip and hesitated, feeling anxiety take over you, freezing you on the spot.

Alexia opened the box and looked at the necklace. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Huh,” she murmured, exhaling softly. She held the charm closer, her fingers brushing it as her expression shifted to confusion. “I… I don’t think this is mine.”

Your boss blinked curiously at her. “Oh? I’m quite certain it’s yours.” She insisted with a nod. “Your necklace was the only one we repaired… and we don’t really have anything like that necklace.”

Alexia nodded but continued to stare at it. She knew it intimately — every curve, every flaw. She had stared at it for countless nights, held onto it as if it tethered her to something she couldn’t let go of.

And this wasn’t that necklace.

“Uh, I’m sure it isn’t mine,” Alexia hummed. “Or did you do something different? Did someone make a change to it?”

“My apprentice did say she cleaned it up? But she didn’t do anything else…” your boss hummed. “Let me call her. She can explain and sort this out.”

Alexia nodded, watching your boss disappear into the backroom. She sighed, frustration flickering in her chest. While the necklace looked more polished and even more detailed, it wasn’t the one she brought in. It was different; it wasn’t the one you put around her neck that day and certainly not the one she stared at all those sleepless nights. She wasn’t the type to complain about services but this time, she might have to. The necklace was special to her.

Her thumb brushed over the charm as memories flooded back — the day she bought the matching necklace for you, the one she gave you with a more polished design.

Her breath hitched, her thoughts spiraling as she slowly realized

“Hi, Alexia.” 

The familiar voice pulled her back to the present. She looked up, and for a moment, she thought she might be dreaming. There you were, standing cautiously with your hands clasped together.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms clammy as you locked eyes with her. It had been years, but there was no mistaking those warm hazel eyes. She looked different now — older, more put-together — but she was still unmistakably Alexia.

Alexia blinked at you, hands still grasping the necklace. You offered her a hesitant, almost nervous smile as you stepped out from behind the doorway and moved closer to the counter. “Is there… is there a problem with the necklace?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Alexia chuckled, glancing down before meeting your gaze again. “No… no problem at all.” Her lips curved into a small, trembling smile, her heart thrumming as warmth spread through her chest. 

You chuckled softly, though a couple of tears began to well up despite your best efforts to hold them back. Quickly, you swiped them away, shaking your head as if to brush off the emotion. But before you could fully recover, her hand reached out, gentle and familiar, wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek.

Even after all these years apart, in that moment, she just… knew.

Her gaze locked with yours, steady yet filled with unspoken emotion. You furrowed your brows, feeling the sting of more tears threatening to fall. You tried to lighten the moment with another soft laugh, but the tears came anyway, betraying you. Her hand remained on your cheek, her touch grounding you as she rubbed her thumb against the smooth of your cheek.

You chuckled shakily and smiled, wiping your tears and stepping away to gather composure. “I… I’m sorry,” you blubbered, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

You looked back to her hazel eyes, seeing that they too had glazed over. She shook her head. “It’s okay… it’s okay, monjita.” She smiled at you with the nickname slipping out naturally as if those years never passed at all. “Why don’t we start over?”

You nodded, using your fingertips to wipe her tears as you exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay…” you nodded. You smiled faintly, a quiet steadiness settling in. “Let’s start over. You start.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in that quiet space. Alexia’s eyes dropped briefly to her necklace — now hanging around your neck — and she smiled.

“Hey…” she started. “I like your necklace.”

You shook your head, remembering your lame pick-up line from that day in the library. “Yeah?’ You said as you looked at your own necklace which was now propped on the box set on the glass counter, between the two of you. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

Alexia laughed warmly, her laugh blending into yours, and when your eyes met again, you felt something shift. You were finally ready to spread your wings and soar.

You were free.

a/n: i hope the ending is satisfying for you guys!! i struggled finishing this, mostly because i was scared of not making a satisfactory ending. but also because... i didn't want it to end yet! this is my longest fanfic to date with around 50k words total... and i really got attached with the characters and the story lol. (also i only proofread this once because i fear that if i do any more, i would nitpick endlessly and never post it)

anyway, thank you again for all the support for the bird — whether it be a reblog, a like, or a long message! all are appreciated. i would, of course, love to hear your thoughts. requests are still close for now but i'd still love to talk to you guys so please send an ask! they often make my day <3 anyway ily all!

chapter index

[ellieslittlewh0re]

OIL & WATER - VI X CAIT

pair - Vi x Caitlyn (arcane)

synopsis - years had gone by, Caitlyn was the chief of police and vi was, well, vi was too busy living in the past. Something about an illegal fighting pit was brought to Cait’s attention, and she decided to check it out. What she didn’t expect was to see her ex girlfriend there, and not only that, she was one of the champions.

tags - NOT SPOILERS!!! smut, blood mentioned, switch vi, switch cait, pussy & ass eating, fingering, humping, kinda sad idk

It was humid that night, and the air felt more dense down here than on topside, fumes from surrounding factories making it hard to breathe.

Caitlyn had her reasons for being in the lanes tonight. It was brought to her attention earlier in the month, some commotion surrounding pit fighting.

As far as she’s aware though, it had nothing to do with shimmer, Jinx or Silco’s still very much active posey, even in death, that being said, she couldn’t give less of a fuck, but being chief and all, the least she could do is check it out.

Thankfully, or maybe not depending on who you ask, the tips she was fed were right, and this wasn’t a complete waste of time.

It was an unassuming location, tall, but fit right into the neighboring buildings, wedged between the two and countless others that stretched out into a narrow maze.

As she stood, waiting, watching, the dim light outside flickered a green haze as she observed the people leaving and entering- consistent and rough, definitely the type of place she should’ve brought backup for.

But, as stated previously, she didn’t give a shit.

She started to walk towards the door, pulling the jacket tighter to her chest, and kept her head low. She wasn’t in her uniform, and tried the best to wear something to make her fit in, but her memory of the fashion down here was a little hazy.

She entered, heavy mental blaring loudly over the many speakers, the crowd even louder.

A man’s voice louder than the rest came over the intercom, the reverb making it hard to distinguish, but the crowd seemed to understand, and they liked what they were hearing.

As she continued further into the building towards the center where the action seemed to be, she stumbled, a hard shoulder trusting into hers.

“Fuckin’ watch it.” The man spat as Cait held her arm, his gold teeth flashing.

She definitely didn’t belong here.

Luckily for her, the man continued on without it escalating further than a scowl on his face and insults muttered under his breath.

Or maybe he’s the one who’s lucky.

She approached the buildings sunken center, doors on either side of the pit opening, and more incoherent yells coming from the announcer and the crowd as it was time for the show to start.

On the left, a large man, freakishly large, his mouth open, and face red as he yelled into the crowd, fists raised up high.

“Jesus”, Cait shuddered in thought, holding the edge of her hoodie by the side of her face, shielding her profile from those in close proximity.

Caitlyn’s mind raced as she absorbed the environment around her, surely, no sane person would go against him, or if they did, they didn’t plan on leaving here tonight alive, which was the only conclusion that seemed logical to her.

She stared at the other door, pitch dark on the other side, and waited for the opponent, but seconds passed and no one showed.

Maybe he chickened out? That wouldn’t be totally irrational.

Caits vision shifts to the man in the ring as he circled around, his fists banging on the metal walls like he was in an adrenaline induced rage, yells from the impatient crowd only fueling it.

But that’s when the man stops yelling, a stone cold expression taking over as he looked to the other side of the pit.

Her eyes followed to where he stared.

The second champion had arrived.

It wasn’t a man at all, but a woman, hair jet black, and smudged makeup around her eyes and down her cheeks to match.

Cait couldn’t help the way her jaw slightly dropped, a fastening in her breath that also went unnoticed at this time.

They stood far apart on either side of the pit, circling around each other like they were waiting to see who would lunge first.

The man was clearly impatient, itching to land a hit on the women, whereas the woman was more composed- serious, but ready, holding her fists out in front of her, blood already soaking through the bandages around them.

Does she fight here often?

Was this even her first fight of the night?

Cait had many more questions and that woman could be the key to answering them.

A bell rings out, and the man doesn’t waste a second to fling himself across the pit, but just as his fists are about to connect, the woman dodges, avoiding his advances, and lands a blow to the center of his stomach.

He falters. It was slight but noticeable, not just to the crowed but to the women as well.

She uses this to her advantage, and lands another fist to his face, blood now smearing the side of his jaw.

This angered the man, causing him to lash out, and an eagerness to connect his tight fist to her body, but that’s where he fucked up.

She was smaller than him by a long shot and lighter too, one second she was there, centimeters away from feeling his wrath, and the next she was both behind him and somehow, also, one step ahead.

It was almost unlike anything Caitlyn has ever seen, but it reminded her of someone.

Cait continued to observe, eyes glued to the mystery fighter, and didn’t dare look away.

It’s like she was toying with him. At many times, she could’ve ended it, but didn’t, instead she’d let him get up only to send him flat on his face again.

It was equally impressive as it was terrifying, and if Caitlyn wasn’t a police officer sent to scope out the place, she’d be offering her respects to the woman.

To Cait, it couldn’t have been more than a 5 minute fight, like it was over before it even started.

But in the same breath, she saw it all so vividly, a slow motion picture that she could’ve described in agonizing detail.

The dark haired woman celebrated, her fists high up in the air and her teeth baring, the crowd sound colliding like a mixture of both celebrations and defeats.

Finally being able to put a face to the voice over the speaker, Caitlyn watched as the man, microphone still in hand, greeted the women in the pit, and held her and up by her wrist, the crowd chanting something that she couldn’t quite comprehend- A name of sorts, not a real one, but a stage name.

She was known here, that much was obvious, and based on her performance tonight, it’s no surprise.

The woman was handed what looked to be a satchel of money before she turned her back towards the crowd, and disappeared back into the dark from which she came.

In Caitlyn’s awe, she almost forgot why she was there in the first place- to gather information, and the one who she wanted to talk to was no longer in her sights.

She lets go of the railing, fingers slightly stiff from how hard she had gripped it during the fight, and leaves the building.

Once outside, Cait searched for the mystery woman, narrowing her eyes down the outstretched alleyways, but it was like she really had disappeared without a trace, in fact, almost no one was around.

Caitlyn should’ve left. Should’ve called it a night, and come back around the same time next week in hopes she’d see the woman again, but all logic seemed to slip from Cait’s mind.

Instead, she rounds the building, and walks down an even narrower corridor towards the back of the building, looking for another exit the women could’ve slipped out of.

Part of her didn’t expect to see her again, but she did.

The woman was about 50 feet away, walking with her back towards Caitlyn, the patch on the back of her leather jacket only noticeable as she passed under the sparse lightning.

Cait’s hands slipped into her pockets, head low, and kept at a safe distance as she began following the woman.

She could be dangerous for all Cait knows. And usually, Cait would think things like this through before doing something as stupid as following a stranger home in a territory that��s mostly unfamiliar to her.

But it’s not like she was going to engage with the women, not tonight anyway, and certainly not alone.

Sometimes, some things go well beyond your control, chief of police or not.

The woman once again disappears from Cait’s sight as she turns the corner up ahead, and Caitlyn uses this time to close the gap by picking up her pace.

As she rounded the corner, she pauses, confusion in her face once she realized the woman was gone.

Caitlyn continued anyway, thinking the woman had lived in the area, and she had simply turned off into one of the many smaller alleyways.

The heel of her boot rang a hallow clunk in the otherwise still surroundings as she stepped forward, a faint scuff being heard from behind just as she was about to take another.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?”

Cait freezes, slowly bringing her hands up to submit to whatever violence was about to pursue, but still didn’t answer the voice coming from behind.

Even her voice was familiar.

“Are you seriously going to make me ask you again?”

Cait could tell her silence only angered the women more, but she didn’t really think ahead enough to come up with a cover story in case something like this were to happen because she wasn’t supposed to fucking engage tonight.

“I- I’m a fan.” Caitlyn finally speaks, and god, did she feel stupid.

“What?”

“I saw you fight tonight. I’m a fan.”

This was Caitlyn giving it her all- a lie disguised as a genuine excuse for following her, but maybe that’s not all it was.

And this was also about the time the woman knew that this wasn’t just some random stranger.

“Caitlyn?”

Cait’s hands slowly descended back to her sides as she turns, coming face to face with the woman.

It took her a second, and in hindsight, it was so obvious- the fighting, and how she moved-

“Violet?”

They both stood there at a loss for words, and memories of the past on replay, their eyes being the projector.

There was a silence between the two, but there was so much being said in that silence, but none of it seemed to matter right now.

Cait’s eyes glanced down, noticing the droplets of blood on the cobblestone at Vi’s feet.

“You’re bleeding.”

Vi holds up her hand, the white of the gauze no longer visible from her wrist down.

She sighs, her chest noticeably falling deeper.

“Go home, Cait.”

Caitlyn watches in bitter suit agony as Vi turns away from her, leaving her behind, and it’s like she was right back in the place, her mother dead and Vi nowhere to be seen or heard from again.

“I can’t.”

Vi pauses, glancing back over her shoulder, and waited for an explanation that didn’t look like was coming.

Cait looks elsewhere, the floor, walls, the light post a few feet away… anywhere except for Vi, which is ironic because that’s the only thing she wanted to look at.

She stumbles over words, and opened her mouth before she shuts it again.

It’s been awhile since Cait has felt like this- so unsure and out of control, even lying, which isn’t out of the ordinary for her job, but it was never her taste.

She was desperate. Hurt.

It was a job turned personal, and she wanted answers.

“You’re under investigation. I’m going to have to ask some questions.”

Cait sounded like it didn’t phase her, professional and cold- like it totally didn’t make her want to crawl inside her skin and die, but that was far from the truth.

She hated this reunion, or more specifically, she hated how how often she thought about this day happening- the day she’d finally see her again, and this was never how it played out in her head.

“Really?” Vi scoffs a laugh, half turning to face her, “Now?”

All Caitlyn could do was nod, she didn’t dare trust the ever growing lump in her throat.

This isn’t how Vi thought it would go either, never wanting to be on the other end of Cait’s authority, well… not like this anyway. But at this point, Vi had nothing to lose, and she’d take whatever Caitlyn gave her.

Vi’s hands stung, sticky bandages clinging to open wounds as she shoved them into her jackets pockets.

“We can talk at my place. It’s just up there.”

She nodded her head in the direction further up the street, and started walking before Cait could suggest something else or resist altogether, but even in Cait’s sanest mind, she wouldn’t dare.

Caitlyn, against her better judgment and years of police training, followed Vi, but the thought of this being a set up also crossed her mind.

And almost, as if on cue, Vi looks over her shoulder, pulling a set of keys out of her back pocket.

“We’re here.”

She proceeds to lead Cait up a steep set of stairs, metal bars crumbling to rust under Cait’s hand as she approached the second story apartment, still keeping the idea of it being a set up in the back of her mind.

It was dark. Dingy. A polar opposite to what Caitlyn was used to.

Bottles littered the floor, some empty- most empty, others at varying levels of emptiness, and a small bed shoved into the corner.

As nonchalantly as Cait could, she looks around at the cramped space, and Vi did what she always did upon coming home- grabbing one of the said half empty bottles, and sat on the edge of her bed, taking heavy swigs between labored breaths.

Vi’s forearms rested on bent knees, only moving from this position to take another swig as blood continued to leak from her knuckles.

“You wanna talk so talk.”

Again, another sip, and a gash from Vi’s eyebrow that hadn’t been noticed before started to bleed, a thin trail of crimson flowing down the side of her face.

A bitter taste filled Caitlyn’s mouth, lingering resentment she thought she was well past rising to the surface.

“So this is what you’ve been up to?” Cait scoffs out, sounding somehow even more bitter than she’d ever expected, immediately wishing to take it back.

Vi either didn’t hear or she was pretending that Cait’s words weren’t like a fucking dagger to her heart, taking a final swig before setting the bottle aside.

She began unwrapping the bandages, her lip slightly twitching as the fabric peeled from open skin, and as much as she tried to keep her pain hidden from Cait, it wasn’t working.

Caitlyn kneels to the ground, and pulls out a handkerchief with some fancy emblem sewed into the corner.

“Here. You’re going to bleed more if you keep shaking like that.”

She grabs Vi by the wrist, holding her still, and started dabbing the area clean.

It was so gentle. Cautious. Almost healing upon contact.

It’s been so long since Vi had been handled with such care. The last time also being Caitlyn right before shit hit the fan.

It was against everything in Vi’s nature to let someone else care for her, but this time, she found it impossible to refuse.

“I thought you were here to arrest me, not play doctor.” Vi hisses, the plain cloth now dosed in the high proofed liquor she had just been drinking, and it definitely being on purpose on Caitlyn’s behalf.

“I’m not going to arrest you, Violet. I told you, I just had some questions.”

Vi’s eyes rolled, a huff passing her lips, “So why aren’t you asking them?”

Caitlyn thought for a moment, and moved to be seated next to Vi, using firm grip with her index and thumb on Vi’s chin to move her head to the side, and started to clean the cut to her eyebrow.

“How long have you been fighting there?”

She asked, or more so demanded, really playing into the scary cop archetype, but that clearly wasn’t the case as she cleaned away at the girls soon to be scar.

Again, Vi winced, trying to pull away from the burning sensation on her eyebrow, but Cait wouldn’t let her get far.

“Dunno. A few months, half a year… Maybe more.” Vi answers, although not very helpful, and she knew it too.

Vi knows exactly how long it had been, not necessarily the fighting, but how long it had been since she’d seen Cait, just so happened they were one and the same.

Caitlyn’s hand lingered a little longer than needed, after noticing (and hoping Vi didn’t) she pulls away.

“Who runs the operation?”

Cait looks over her shoulder after a few seconds of no reply, only to see Vi lying down on the mattress, and her eyes hidden behind her arm that was draped across her face.

Vi chuckled, a half hearted one at that. Her canines flashing briefly, “Why would I tell you that?”

She moved to her elbows, resting her weight on them, and looked to Cait who seemed to be a bit distracted.

Could be because something that has never happened to her just happened- not getting her way, or in this case, not getting her questions answered, but it wasn’t that.

She was distracted by the sudden intimacy. Both of them being so close on a bed, dim lighting just adding to the heightened senses, and she was distracted by Violet herself. Sure, it’s the worse Cait had ever seen the girl, including the time she was stabbed and bleeding out. But it was different. She looked stronger, more mature, and all the exposed skin that Caitlyn wasn’t used to seeing was no longer hidden away due to the limited coverage of her chest bindings.

And it certainly didn’t help that whenever Cait was near her, even back then, the tension was suffocating.

Vi has lost a lot before this moment, but now, it’s Caitlyn’s turn to lose.

Caitlyn joins Vi, and mimicked her position on the bed, fingers interlocked over her stomach as silence crept in.

They both stared ahead at the cracked, flaky ceiling, a silent mental game to see who would look at the other first, but Violet was especially weak in that field.

“Is this really why you came? To ask questions about the pit?”

Vi asks, sounding so small, so quiet like regardless like of what the answer was, the idea of it possibly leading to something bigger terrified the girl.

Caitlyn turned to face Vi, tucking an arm under her head.

To Vi, it felt too good to be true to be with Cait like this like that one time all those years ago when things were ever so slightly easier. On nights where she’d had gotten too drunk too fast, and too alone, she’d fall asleep to that memory, but now, it felt like a lifetime had passed since then, and neither of them resembled who they used to be.

“I was just checking it out and then I saw you fight…” Caitlyn trails off, and her eyes squeezed shut, letting more silence intrude, “I didn’t know it was you until you said something.”

Vi thinks for a moment, the pouding in her heart growing a little louder as Caitlyn turned onto her side to face the once pink haired girl.

Caitlyn speaks first, of course she did. Vi was too in her head, too anxious to engage a conversation without the promise of a stutter or slurry of pent up emotions all coming undone at once.

“I don’t care about the pit, Vi… never did.”

Caitlyn’s body tightens, arms cradling around herself as she didn’t dare look Vi in the eyes.

In a way, it was a confession, an apology. A way of saying that even though a lot of time has passed, things done that shouldn’t have been allowed, and words spoken that never should have, she still always thought of her.

“Then why are you here now and not then?”

Caitlyn fills with dread. Every ounce of that question felt like she was being faced with all her regrets because the truth is, she didn’t have an answer. It was everything and nothing all at once, an endless loop of what felt like excuses.

This is when Cait finally looks up, meeting the icy blue of Vi’s eyes that seemed a whole lot dimmer than what she remembered.

“I thought that’s what you wanted… for me to stay away. I thought it would be… easier.”

Caitlyn couldn’t have sounded more guilty, more afraid by an impeding reaction. But Vi isn’t like her.

“Do you still think it’s easier?”

Vi asked, a humor hidden behind obvious hurt that it wasn’t the explanation she wanted, but she’d happily take, reaching a hand out a little further on the mattress between them, praying Cait would take the bait.

And Caitlyn did.

First, it was hand on hand, then fingers intertwined, and breathing fastened.

It was the hardest decision she ever had to make, but the question had gone completely forgotten as hand touches turned into opened mouth kisses, and Caitlyn’s fingers wrapped up in the longer layers of Vi’s hair as she climbed on top.

Vi’s hands were on Cait’s back, running along the length of it, and in the divot of her spine- feeling, reeling the shape of her, memorizing every detail in a matter of seconds in case this was just another “easy” decision on Caitlyn’s behalf.

But there was also no way in hell Vi was going to make the same mistake twice.

“Say you mean it.” Vi mumbled between the kisses to Caitlyn’s chest, ridding her of her jacket just moments prior.

“What?”

Caitlyn’s confusion didn’t stop there as Vi hooked an arm across her back, maneuvering them both with ease so that Cait was underneath her.

There was an eagerness- a lack of regard that Caitlyn felt from this position- the familiarity of it, and what it has led to in the past like a drug that you worked so hard to rid yourself of just for it all to crumble in an instant when laid out in front of you- or in this case, on top of you.

“Say you mean this.”

Vi’s tone emphasizes, and in any other context, it could've come off as demanding or harsh, but right now, it was unmistakably desperate.

Vi’s eyes lock onto Cait’s as she lowers her head down, her tongue connecting with the hot flesh across Cait’s lower stomach.

A hum is pulled from Caitlyn’s lips- subtle but there, and Vi took it as permission, hooking her long fingers into the waistband of Caitlyn’s pants and proceeded to pull them down just enough to see how far the lace of Caitlyn’s black panties went, which to Vi’s surprise, went pretty far- all the way type far.

She thought she was going to make Caitlyn work for it. Beg for a touch, a feel, a taste… Some sort of payback was expected, but that was before the kiss, or the way Caitlyn looked at her, and definitely before Vi got a hint of her taste through the lace.

“I mean it-“ Caitlyn stutters, her head falling a little heavier against the mattress as Vi’s mouth envelops Caitlyn from down below, lace heavying with the spit-precum mixture.

Whether Caitlyn meant it or it was just another empty promise to get what she wanted didn’t matter to Vi. She needed it just as much as Caitlyn did- the orgasm, the empty promise, either would suffice when your reality is beating the shit out of people before they could beat you up first, and drinking until the term “blackout drunk” didn’t seem like it was enough.

Before Vi, or Caitlyn for that matter, could think about the consequences or the impending repeated heartbreak that would come from this, Vi slipped the few inches from the bed to the floor. Her knees clashed against the cold concrete, pulling Cait along with an arm wrapped under her thigh and her other hand busy, an index finger hooking the small patch of cotton where Caitlyn’s pussy was previously hidden behind, pulling it to the side.

“Holy shit… I’ve missed you.” Vi exhaled, unsure if the statement was directed at Caitlyn herself or the part of Cait that Vi’s face was centimeters away from.

Vi continued slow licks, bring her head up every so often to more closely observe Caitlyn’s movements- the rise of her chest, the soft mews and almost wines of contempt when Vi would stop, even if it was only for a few seconds.

She showed incredible restraint, not because of the payback that she promised herself she’d get, but because she wanted to make it last, savor it, but Caitlyn on the other hand wasn’t as sentimental.

“Stop-“ Caitlyn starts but is cut off. A slight clench in her jaw as she winces, and a stinging sensation spreading high on her inner thigh where Vi’s teeth bit down.

“stop teasing.”

Vi tongue slid across the freshly made mark, soothing it before looking up, and meeting a less than enthusiastic Cait.

She chuckles, a quick breath leaving her nostrils, “Oh? You don’t like how I do it?”

Vi’s teeth flash, and the corner of her lip upturned.

Maybe this was her payback.

“Show me how you want it then.”

Caitlyn stared for a second before moving, a split decision that showcased just how fragile her patience truly was.

She gets up, hand and knees on the mattress, and held a hand out for Vi to take, which she does.

Cait pulls her onto the bed, putting her hands on the front of Vi’s shoulders as she climbs on top to straddle her waist.

Vi in all of this was a little starstruck, going along with whatever Caitlyn wanted even if it meant imminent death, but luckily for her, that seemed like a far off possibility right now.

Caitlyn reaches behind to unclasp her bar, letting the straps fall naturally down her arms before tossing it the short amount of distance to the floor, and Vi did her best to not stare, but old habits die hard.

Instead of a witty remark on Caitlyn’s behalf about “having some dignity” or “my eyes are up here” she welcomed the attention, even encouraged Vi to go beyond just looking, but Vi didn’t need the extra incentive.

Her hands danced along the sides of Caitlyn’s torso, squeezing her smallest parts with the cuts and scraps long forgotten before they reached her breasts.

She cupped them, letting the natural curve guide her fingers, and didn’t stop until Caitlyn leans forward to kiss her.

First, it was slow, pecks overlapping into drawn out kisses before tongues intertwined into a maze with no beginning or end, and hands cradling, holding parts of each other that have been neglected of touch for far too long.

For Caitlyn, it was nice at first to have this and nothing else, but the itch was building into a painful rupture, and Vi wasn’t far behind.

Cait’s hand glided down Vis stomach, fingers curling over the ridges of her prominent abs until they’re forced to a stop by the heavy hardware of Vi’s pants.

“Can I?” She whispered against Vi’s lips, heavy breathing filling the momentary silence before an answer could be spoke, but it wouldn’t take long.

With permission granted, Caitlyn lowers herself to mirror Vi position from just a few minutes before, undoing the buckle, and with the help of Vi, she pulls the ripped, dark denim from her legs.

As soon at the warmth of Cait’s mouth became the only thing Vi could feel, a tear was almost shed- gratitude or the longing for things to stay like this forever had become overwhelming even for a girl like Vi.

Vi’s hands reached, fingers intertwining with the dark blue hair that flowed loosely around Caitlyn’s face, a total opposite to the tight updo Cait had worn not even 20 minutes ago, now having a slight wave to its usual unbending pattern.

“Fuck, Cait-“ Vi groaned, swallowing it down as she bit her lip. “-I’m gonna cum.”

Already? But Caitlyn just started?

Maybe her first impression of Vi after the time apart had failed her. Surely, she had different girls in and out of this room, sometimes more than one in a single day, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

Cait eased up, applying less pressure, and only allowing the lightest of touches to Vi’s clit before stopping all together to tempt a finger inside.

“Oh fuck-“

Vi tried sitting up to look at Caitlyn, a plummet in strength as Caitlyn’s knuckle disappears inside, and shortly after, another finger was added.

Cait continued like this- in and out, slow, agonizingly slow at first, pulling all the way out, before stuffing her full, over and over again she did this until she picked up speed.

The light pressure of Caitlyn’s lips on Vi’s inner thighs proved to be little distraction to the pressure building deep inside Vi’s stomach, but seemed to be more effective when Cait’s lips reconnected to her clit.

Vi heaved, the bindings around her chest tightening even more as her chest rose deeply, and her whines softening into a delicate cry, which was a rare occasion for her.

But she was sensitive, starved, also didn’t help Cait happened to be quite the perfectionist, even in sex.

VI’s hands threw down, pressing on the back of Caitlyn’s head, and held her there with her hips rolling with the motion of Cait’s tongue, and without a minute to waste, Caitlyn’s mouth filled with her, over pouring until it was dripping down to the peak of her chin.

Despite the hard-hitting orgasm Vi just endured, it didn’t take long before she pulls Cait onto the bed, and with Cait’s mouth still glistening with Vi’s climax, she kisses her, tongue lodging itself deep into the back of Cait’s throat. As she’s doing this, she’s molding Caitlyn, putting her into position before she could process.

Vi’s hand is on the back of Caitlyn’s neck, kissing her deeper and deeper before she stops, a thin trail of spit breaking as Vi pulls away.

“Vi…” Caitlyn breaths, eyes glossy, and on the brink of tears as Vi’s hand trails along her spine, applying pressure.

“Do you trust me?” She whispered, maintaining eye contact as her lips grazed Caitlyn’s shoulder.

Caitlyn’s bottom lip is taken hostage for a brief moment between her teeth before releasing, giving a slight nod, but enthusiastic nonetheless.

Vi is brought to her knees, positioning herself behind Cait, and her hand on Caitlyn’s back lowering her down.

With cheeks squished against the mattress below and unable to see Vi directly, Caitlyn could do nothing but anticipate what’s to come, and because she couldn’t see Vi, the touches to her ass and inner thighs only felt amplified.

Now, this is where Vi hand all the power, all the time in the world to see Caitlyn how she’d often think about her in her dreams, specifically on nights where her hand couldn’t come close to ever being enough.

Her hand is dragged along Cait’s back, fallowing it all the way down to the space between Cait’s thighs, and cradled her cunt in the palm of her hand, letting the moisture soak through her skin.

With this little amount of pressure, Caitlyn pushes her hips back into Vi’s touch, the arch in her back deepening, and her cunt clenching at what’s to come.

Seeing how eager Caitlyn was for her touch, Vi had to feel it for herself, so she hooked the thin stitches of the laces with her fingers and pulled, and with a harsh, quick yank, it broke away from Cait’s hips.

Another whine is emitted as Caitlyn attempted to look back at Vi, who was lowering herself to be eye level with Cait’s lower set of lips, pulling her ass apart to more clearly see how much of a mess she was, even when she tried so hard to seem composed.

She licked, and licked, and licked. There wasn’t an inch of Caitlyn that hadn’t been touched by Vi’s tongue. They had no off-limits, and the term “gross” wasn’t even in their vocabulary. They had nothing to be embarrassed about when it was just them two, and Caitlyn is learning now that even after years apart, it’s still the same.

Even the lockjaw that was threatening Vi’s mouth didn’t stop her- her thumbs centered between Caitlyn’s thighs, physically holding her lips apart as she flexed inside her, pushing the hot muscle as deep as it could possibly go, Caitlyn’s muffled whines sounding a whole lot less muffled even with her face buried in the sheets.

That’s when Caitlyn found some strength- a mere ounce of it, and she used this strength to reach a hand behind in search of the only hand she wanted to hold.

She squeezed until her nails left indents on the back of Vi’s hand, and Vi knew she was close.

Vi narrowed in, working through the sore jaw and neck, squeezing the plush of Cait’s thighs until the skin around her pads turned white.

Caitlyn cursed as she came, and in the same breath, she also spoke Vi’s name so sweetly that it made up for the obscenities.

Vi could’ve stopped there, but what then?

Caitlyn would spend the night?

Move in?

One of those is more plausible than the other, but Vi didn’t like her chances.

As Caitlyn laid there, stomach flat to the bed, and her head resting on forearms, and seemingly trying to catch a breath, Vi crawled on top of her, bandagings coming loose as she lowers herself onto Cait, and kissed her across her shoulders.

It was sweet- possibly the most innocent form of physical touch, but that’s when Vi’s creeping hand continued to lowers itself until her wrist was snug between Caitlin’s ass.

VI’s head lowers, her bottom lip grazing Cait’s ear, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Her breath is heavy, not from exhaustion or something similar. She was insatiable, greedy, and the guilt was loud for what she was about to do, but her hunger was louder.

“Okay..” Caitlyn responded, her eyes widening a bit as Vi’s hand grabbed the underside of her jaw to turn her face to feed Vi’s greedy lips once more, sinking two fingers inside.

A gasp disconnects them briefly as the full length of Vi’s fingers disappears inside but is quickly taken ahold of by Vi's greed once again, whose motion of her wrist was quickly growing in pace.

One orgasm had passed, then two…

Caitlyn cried out, all her strength exhausted as she squeezed at the forearm that was seat-belted across her chest, and Vi’s less busy hand ever so gently fitted around Cait’s neck, lightly applying pressure with her fingers to the sides.

It was so sweet- a little rough and almost sadistic if you noticed the details- the tear-stained sheets, the handling of Caitlyn’s lower half, but, overall, sweet and undeniably passionate.

As Caitlyn cried out- louder, and her voice on the brink of a scream, Vi face muzzles into the side of Cait’s cheek, and places a kiss to the tear-stain by her eye, catching the saltwater with her lips, “I wanted to marry you, did you know that?”

“You left, and I wanted to marry you. I still do.”

Again, Caitlyn was left unable to reply. She couldn’t form a sentence, nonetheless have a conversation of this degree.

So, instead, she says her name, a meek “vi” leaving her lips as she looks over her shoulder to look into her eyes.

“Please.”

Like clockwork, Vi did what she was asked, and kept a steady, consistent rhythm.

Sweat-drenched hair stuck to Caitlyn’s forehead, and her nails curling into Vi’s skin as her screams continued for a few more seconds, each time getting cut short as Vi’s fingers collided with her cervix until the fluid seeped out around Vi’s hand.

She retreats, and pulls out carefully to minimize Cait’s discomfort before lying on her back next to her, heavy breathing shared between the pair.

Vi didn’t speak. She couldn’t. This was her one opportunity to get her back- fix things to be how they were supposed to, and she fucked it all up by letting her emotions get out of hand.

It wasn’t even Vi’s problem to fix, Caitlyn left, not her, but it was in Vi’s nature to try.

Vi rolls into her side, hovering a hand over Caitlyn’s shoulder, hesitation upon not seeing her face.

“Cait?”

Her hand finally connected, a pit in her stomach starting to form, but quickly melted away as Caitlyn looks at her.

Vi knew that look, and she knew Caitlyn enough to know that not all is lost.

Caitlyn couldn’t promise it today, tomorrow, or even a year from now.

But until that day comes, no more year long absences and no more drowning in the ‘what could’ve beens’ of the past, but someday, when things are less fucked up, and they’re able to give each other the versions of themselves they used to be, there will always be a home waiting for them.

[a-spes]

Hi I was rereading devious lies and I was thinking ab if nat and yn were to meet again and everything, yn would have the biggest trust issued ever. First her best friend took advantage of her and ruined her life, then the ones she considered family turned their backs on her without even letting her explain her side, and ofc how her lover shouted in her face that she's not welcome there anymore and how yn shouldn't even talk with her anymore ever. How the last time the team looked at her it was with anger and dissapointment That and also from the first part where she herself admitted to feeling like a stranger amongst her once friends and family.

Idk what you have in store for us for when you're feeling better and out of the writing block that you're currently experiencing, but I can't wait to read it. Take as long as you need, we're here!

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　  ˚ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧   　　˚ ⁺

˚　 . ⤳ DEVIOUS LIES — Bonus part, 'the scars in our hearts' (6.280 words).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ SUMMARY — Anon request — “ It has been years since the events, and when you eventually got the chance to go back with them, you thought everything would be the way it used to be. except it wasn't. three years, almost four, is a lot of time, and the people you used to know and the building you called your home do not feel the same anymore. Maybe you've been gone for too long to hope to find a place in their new life. ”

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avenger!Reader, Female!Reader, Other Avengers x Reader (brief mention of them). Bittersweet, (kind of) angst with comfort. Self-doubt, mental health issues, mention of bad coping mechanisms, toxic relations.

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

You’ve been told that you just needed a bit of time to adjust, because you come a long way, but they didn’t say how long ‘a bit of time’ was. So the months passed, they soon became years, and if you’ve still made no progress, you kept hoping. Every day, you repeat yourself that you only need ‘a bit more of time’ and that, soon, with just a little extra effort, everything will eventually be fine. 

Except that you’ve never been a patient person.

They made it sound easy. They made you believe that everything would go back to the way it used to be in weeks, and you’ve fallen for their sweet words because you were craving for them to be true. You have dreamed of that moment, and every day you’ve spent far from them was spent thinking about the day they would ask you to come back. It is a little fantasy you’ve been holding on to for the past few years, but the tears, hugs, and excuses you’ve spent hours to imagine never became a reality. No, you only got silent glances.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

Two years is not a lot of time in a human life but these years still felt like an eternity to you, and you’ve never been so aware of how long they have been as when you came back, realizing the gap that had opened up between you and the others. Your life has fallen apart that day, leaving you with such small pieces of yourself that you weren’t able to rebuild on your own —; but them? It is as if they’ve lost nothing. They’ve spent those two years building a life in which you’ve never existed, one that you are now supposed to find a place in. Every day is just a painful reminder of what you have lost, and will never get back despite your hopes. Your dream slipped away just when you touched it with your fingertips.

You have to accept that you are not a part of the system anymore, you are just the pebble that derails the machine, and that ruins everything —; but you should be used to it, shouldn’t you? To that feeling of shame and sorrow that your heart has been carrying for years, that feeling of failure and permanent disappointment.

Some nights, out of habit, you push the wrong door, and you find yourself in the room you used to share with Natasha. Once full of life, it had now become austere. Yet, there is something comforting about being in that room full of old memories, it is a bittersweet feeling that’s both like a heartbreak and a warm hug. You've never been much of a drinker, or at least you've always been careful enough not to get wasted. But you’ve made an exception tonight, because everything seemed to be too much, and you wouldn’t have survived the party if you hadn’t drowned everything in alcohol.

It is the way they kept laughing that got on your nerves, jealousy rising inside of you every time a new joke was told that you couldn’t understand “because you weren’t here” —; but Wanda wasn’t here either, and yet, she laughed along with them, why? Because she hasn’t lost her place with them, she is still a part of the family. They promised that they would tell their stories and explain their jokes later, because it was too long to do it now, but you were aware that it was just a lie to give you the impression that you weren’t on the sidelines.

It wasn’t very effective.

They spent the whole night telling stories that you couldn’t understand and sharing jokes you couldn’t laugh at, and while they remembered things that you didn’t have a chance to live by their side, giving you an overview of all the things you’ve missed, you were silently sitting on the couch, trying to ignore the knot in your throat. You didn’t even try to take part in the conversation —; what could you possibly have said anyway? You are not sure they would have wanted to hear about how miserable your life was when you were gone, how lonely and desperate you’ve been during these years. It would be an admission that you missed them, needed them.

Instead you kept your attention on the bottles of alcohol, at least they would never let you down —; that’s the advantage when the parties are organized by someone like Tony: you will never run out of booze. You were so uninvolved in what was going on around you, that you missed the worried glances that Natasha and Wanda shared, and they didn’t need to talk to understand each other, to know that they both had the same concerns.

Everyone does, but you’ve made it clear in your first few weeks back that you didn’t want their pity. There was no comfort in the way they looked at you and, quickly, their presence became too much. They were always there, never letting you completely alone despite the appearance and trying to meet your needs before you could even ask, pretending that they knew better than you do —; but they don’t. They have no idea of what you need, because how could they when you’re not even sure yourself?

The loneliness you’ve asked for isn’t more comforting, but at least it comes with familiar feelings, some that you’ve learned how to deal with the past few years. On the contrary, you still hadn’t gotten used to their presence, and you had no idea of how to deal with these contradictory feelings that were starting to grow inside of yourself. While a part of you wanted to lean in their embrace, the other rejected their overwhelming affection. A way of protecting yourself that won out, taking the form of uncontrolled anger and, after days of being yelled at and random objects being thrown at their faces, they’ve eventually got the hint that they should let you alone.

They’ve given up on you —; but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? 

You can’t be sure, but you are trying to convince yourself that it is better that way. You’re not worth the trouble, and they definitely can’t spend all their energy trying to save you when people are actually dying outside. You would be fine, you would get through it —; right? Because that’s what you’ve always done, and there is no reason that this time would be any different —; you are strong, with or without them by your side. You just need a little bit of time for your scars to heal and then, everything will be back the way it used to be. 

Except that, despite the appearances, those thoughts never really left your mind. Sometimes, you think about your return and what would have happened if they hadn’t found you that day —; maybe everything would have been easier. For you, sure, but also for them. You are not even sure they would have accepted your return if they had a choice —; you wouldn’t have. At least when you weren't there, there wasn't that constant tension that now reigned over the tower, one that followed you into every room you set foot in. 

So you’ve made a decision —; you would rebuild yourself without them. You would make a new name for yourself, a new life, even if it means leaving them behind. There is this growing will deep inside you, the one that feeds off your anger and jealousy, and it’s the one to get your revenge. You want them to suffer as much as you have, to realize what they’ve done, and regret every of their actions. You want them to crawl back at your feet, begging for your forgiveness because you are tired of being the only one to make efforts.

You have waited so long for them to say or do the right thing, but the moment has never come because they can’t possibly understand your situation, let alone knowing what you really need to get better —; how could they when you ignore it too? Nothing feels right anymore. You have tried a lot of things but nothing works. Your life is now like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces refuse to fit together. There is no way to make things go back the way they were, you could only keep on pretending. 

And so you did, locking yourself into a routine. Each day you alternate between training, going on missions or attending meetings, leaving yourself little free time. This hectic schedule has the advantage of allowing you to avoid the presence of others and keeping you from thinking too much while making you more efficient —; it is perfect, isn’t it? It is, most of the time but, some days, the illusion falters, and the facade you’ve built shatters, revealing the truth you are trying to hide.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling into your old bedroom, the one that now smells of dust, desperate for some comfort and familiarity. You didn’t even make it to the bed, falling miserably asleep on the carpet —; you didn’t have the strength to get up when you tripped over your own feet, too drunk to take more than a few clumsy steps.

⊱ ★ ⊰

There is only one person in the team who is willing to give you the space you asked for without agreeing to give up on you yet —; and it is Natasha.

You may not notice it, but the woman has always been here for you since you came back to live with them. It must be said that her gestures are minute, almost imperceptible, but they always manage to draw a slight smile on your lips without you realizing it —; she was perfectly aware that if you knew it was from her, you would start hating on those little things that made your daily life at the tower a little sweeter.

She is the one who always accidentally cooks more food than she needed, making sure there was always a portion waiting for you in the fridge. She is the one who makes sure that your favorite cutlery is always clean. She is the one who buys your favorite flowers to put them in the common room’s vase and never lets them fester. She is the only one who has taken the time to make you feel at home with a bunch of details that are so insignificant that you’ve barely noticed them.

But at least it helped soothe the guilt her heart carried, because these actions are proof that she was fulfilling the promises she had made to you a long time ago, in the secrecy of the night, under a starry sky, whispered words that has been immediately blown away by the wind —; “I’ll always be there for you,” she had said. “Promise?” you’ve asked, your eyes full of hope. “Promise,” she had replied before your lips touched, sealing the contract.

One she broke years ago, when she dragged you out of the tower without letting you a chance to explain yourself. The woman is perfectly aware that flowers and some meals won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness, but she still made it her mission to look after you from afar —; because if she doesn’t, who would? You don’t let anyone get close to you, and the others haven’t looked any further, giving up at the first sign of trouble. She doesn’t blame you for not trusting her, or the other members of the team, she just wishes that you would accept at least one of their helping hands. 

But you’ve rejected everyone. 

Even Wanda, with whom you seemed, at one time, to be getting on well which had given the redhead hope. Those hopes had been shattered the day you violently pushed the witch away without any clear explanation, and the woman blames herself for that, for not knowing what to do in order to help you —; because she should know, right? That’s her role, the promise she had made years ago.

If she can’t, if no one can, what will you become?

You may be able to fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are fine, but you won’t get her to fall for your little tricks. She knows the truth. She can see it in your fake smiles, she can read it in your tired eyes. She knows you by heart, she hasn’t forgotten those years spent by your side, and she has become a master at spotting your bad habits and the sublet signs that accompany them. 

So, tonight, she couldn't have possibly missed how firm your grip has been on the bottles of alcohol, nor how quiet you've been the whole time. But it is only when she saw the door to your old bedroom ajar that she understood the extent of your pain. You were hitting rock bottom, you would have never set foot in this room full of memories otherwise. She knew this because she, too, avoided it like the plague, and hadn’t dared return in it since that day, not even to empty it. For five years, it had remained the same.

The woman is willing to give you the space you asked for as long as you are taking care of yourself, it is the silent promise she made, but it is obvious that you have failed to do so lately as she has seen you slowly falling back into your old habits. The ones she thought you had left behind, the ones she had helped you to overcome years ago. She is ready to accept that you could build a life without her, it is a cost worth paying if it’s the one to your happiness, but you haven’t built anything lately. Nor have you been happy, and she couldn’t bear anymore the sight of you destroying yourself, again.

The redhead is tired of the situation. She is annoyed that everyone is playing your games by pretending that everything is fine because it only encourages you down this dangerous path, one that may cost your life one day. She is angry with anyone who takes the easy way out, because it is obvious that it is easier to act as if all that history belonged to the past rather than acknowledge their mistakes.

At first, she had agreed to play along, but it was only because she thought that it was what you needed and that, when you were ready, you would talk to them. Except that it has been a bit more than two years, almost three, since they brought you back, and you still haven’t told a word about it. The woman didn’t know how long she would be able to put up with your silence on this story and your obvious discomfort.

But it seems that the sight of you asleep on the dusty carpet of the room you once shared was the last straw for the woman who decided to step in. You are probably going to hate her tomorrow, but she doesn’t care —; she is not even sure you could possibly hate her more than you already do. She would rather know that you are safe, even if it means losing you a little more so she decides to call your name multiple times.

It is the sound of her voice who wakes you up. It doesn’t matter how deeply asleep you were because you can’t ignore her when she practically screams out your name, and you are inevitably roused from your slumber. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips to signal your displeasure, all you could see was a blurred figure with red hair that could only belong to one person. One you could recognize anywhere.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a mixture of annoyance and concern tinged her voice, but you weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to notice it. Maybe if your hand hadn’t been so heavy on the alcohol, then you would have noticed the tone of her voice.

‘I am sleeping, can’t you see?’ you grumbled, but as soon as the words escaped your mouth, the frustration was replaced by a laugh —; this question was stupid, you realize. Isn’t she supposed to be a trained spy, and one of the best, too? Then why couldn’t she see what was right in front of her? Something that obvious? 

Maybe she doesn’t know either because your question is followed by silence. Her only answer has been to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long night, she already knew it, but wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with that.

‘Come here,’ you said when the woman didn’t react. Your words were accompanied by the gesture of grabbing her arm in order to pull her toward you, the woman losing her balance because of the surprise. 

Since she had found you, you had never asked for her presence. On the contrary, you had rejected and hated her. At best, you would tolerate her presence, but only when your job didn’t give you a choice, and so this sudden change in your behavior disconcerted her, especially the laugh that escaped your lips when she fell on top of you —; it is a sound that she has never thought she would hear again. So pure, so sincere.

‘Get up,’ she coldly says, not amused at all by your little games. If circumstances had been different, she probably would have found your attitude endearing and stayed a little longer in your arms. Except there was nothing healthy about this sudden closeness after months of hatred, so the woman immediately got up, inviting — ordering — you to do the same —; the sooner she puts you to bed, the sooner she can get back to hers.

Tonight, she had no patience. The woman was exhausted, and frustrated —; you weren’t the only one to suffer from the situation. She knows that your clinging state is just an illusion, the result of the alcohol you’ve ingested, and that the very next day you’re going to hate her again. If she wanted nothing more than to believe everything would be okay now, and to find comfort in your arms, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she knew she would lose it all again at sunrise. This scene is only a chimera, a reminder of what she had lost several years earlier as the result of her own actions.

If anything happens tonight, you would both regret it. Nothing can come from the actions of two tipsy and exhausted people. Except that your mind wasn’t clear enough to realize it, and all you could think about in that moment was how you were craving for Natasha’s attention. You wanted her to wrap her arms around you and whisper that everything will be fine now, because she is here. You wanted her to promise to never let you down, again. Even if it is a lie. Even if, one day, she will abandon you again —; because that’s what they all do despite the promises, isn’t it? At that moment, you didn’t care about the lies, you just wanted something to hold onto, just an ounce of comfort.

‘I caaaaaan’t,’ you whined, but you didn’t even try to do so. When you stretch out your arms towards the redhead, she gets the hint that you’re expecting her to help you, which she does. The woman knows how stubborn you can be so she grabs your hands and pulls you on your feet, sighing.

Except that you seem to find the idea of testing the limits of her kindness particularly amusing because you make no effort to pull yourself upright, or to stand on your feet —; or maybe you were just that wasted. You’re barely standing when you fall forward, leaving no choice to the woman who has to catch you before you hit the ground.

‘Got you,’ you whispered, a grin on your face, when you felt her arms around your waist.

The thought of dropping you crossed her mind, but all she did was to playfully roll her eyes. The woman should be annoyed by the situation —; right? But how could she when you are so adorable? It has been a long time since she last saw such a peaceful expression on your face. Your eyes were half closed, you looked as if you were about to fall asleep in her arms, and there was a faint smile on your lips. You seemed so content, nestled in her arms with your cheek pressed against her chest, that she hardly dared to move, fearing to break this well-deserved moment of peace. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, and the sorrow on your face had dissipated, giving way to a childlike insouciance —; a sight that made her heart melt.

You are the one who broke the silence first.

‘I’ve missed you..,’ you whispered. A confession so unexpected that the woman is not sure if she had understood your words. When her eyes looked down, searching for yours, you hadn’t moved, your eyes still closed. It was almost as if you hadn’t spoken, and that the words had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. 

‘Me too,’ she softly replied and, maybe, if you had opened your eyes at that moment, you would have noticed the tears that clouded hers — but you couldn’t do that, because you don’t want her to see the tears that you are trying to hold back, right? The one that would just run down your cheeks the moment you open your eyes. 

‘Please, stay with me tonight,’ you asked —; no, you begged. You’ve lifted your head until your eyes finally meet hers, both were shining with the tears that threatened to fall —; you are the first one to give in.

The mere thought of Natasha leaving you was enough to shatter your last ramparts. You have just regained her embrace, you don’t want to be forced to leave her now, not after so many years of hoping to regain the comfort you thought you had lost forever. You have been too stubborn to admit that you needed help, and so you’ve spent years pushing everyone away, thinking that you didn’t deserve their affection. It has been so long that you can’t even remember the last time someone held you this way, with such delicacy and care.

It gave you hope. The one that, maybe, for at least one night, things could be the way they used to be —; just tonight, or even just a few hours. You just want that moment to last a little longer, you don’t want to spend another night alone in your bed, in your cold and austere bedroom with a depressing atmosphere. You want more than that, you want a reason to stay, a reason to try again, and to get up tomorrow —; you want Natasha back. You want your old life back.

Except that the woman won’t give in. It is not that she doesn’t want to, on the contrary, she shares the same wishes that you, but her mind is clear, and she knows that nothing good would come out of it —; you can’t get back to what you used to have. You can’t change the past, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist.

‘I can’t..,’ she softly replied after a second of silence that marked her hesitation, ‘you know that baby, we both,’ she added, the nickname naturally escaping her lips when she noticed that more tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. 

She wants to say yes, you can read it in her eyes, hear it in her silences —; then why doesn’t she say it? Why does she keep pushing you away when you are eventually ready for her to be back? Isn’t what she has wanted when she spent all those months begging you to accept her help? It is, but she didn’t want it that way, she didn’t want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on your part. She wanted to earn your forgiveness, to show you that you could trust her again, and if she had to work every day until she dies to achieve that goal, then she would do it. 

‘Why not?’ you immediately asked back, ‘you are here, and so am I, and- and our bed is waiting for us,’ you started rambling. You couldn’t speak clearly, the words racing through your head as you tried to convince her, but you knew it was a losing battle. You were so desperate that your hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt, as if it could be enough to stop her from leaving. ‘Please,’ you begged once more when she didn’t react. At this point, your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, ‘just for tonight, we could pre~’ 

‘Pretend that nothing has happened?’ she softly asked, finishing your sentence, and all you could do was nodding. ‘But you know we can’t do that baby,’ she said, hating the way you were looking at her with so much hope, as if you thought that one night in her arms could ease all your problems —; but it can’t. It won’t. 

As she talks, one of her hands tucks a lock of your hair behind your ears. The touch is so gentle that you can resist, and lean into her embrace. The feeling of her hand caressing your head leaves too soon for your liking. 

‘Sometimes, I wish that we could,’ you replied, ‘that I could either forget everything, or go back in time to make everything right,’ you confided in her, sharing your thoughts with someone for the first time.

The words have barely crossed the barrier of your lips that you crumble, because you realize that this wish will never come true. You can no longer hold back your tears, you can only hide your face in the hollow of her neck, hoping she won’t see those. Only, each of your sobs shakes your body so violently that anyone could understand your state in one glance. The woman doesn’t know what to do so she cautiously wraps her arms around you and cradles your body in an attempt to sooth your sobs —; it’s the least she can do.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong, love, nothing was your fault,’ she whispered, and you can hear that her voice is feverish —; she, too, is holding back tears. She can’t bear to see you like this. ‘I am sorry, so sorry,’ she added while she rocks you slowly. Those words weren’t for tonight, and how she had to refuse your proposal, but they were for everything that has happened since that day. Those excuses were for all the things she has done or said since but, most importantly, for all the things she didn’t have the courage to do and the ones she couldn’t. 

⊱ ★ ⊰

The following morning, you’re woken up by Jarvis, his voice echoing through the room, terribly loud and impossible to ignore. A grunt escapes your lips, you were hoping for a few more hours of sleep —; or best, for an eternal slumber. The night before, like the rest of the team, you went to bed late, and the quantities of alcohol ingested are definitely not helping with your condition because you were the victim of a terrible headache. Only, it is impossible for you to ignore Jarvis’ voice. He has been calling your name over and over again for several minutes now, trying to get the attention you are trying to not give him —; but even with your hands covering your ears, his voice would pierces your eardrums.

‘You are not answering me, miss y/n,’ he stated the obvious, ‘do you want me to warn the others that you are sick? My sensors indicate tha~’

‘Please, Jarvis, shut up,’ you mumble, still managing to be polite despite the rising frustration, and you really hope it will be enough for him to leave you alone —; but anyone who knows the AI knows that these hopes are in vain. 

Nonetheless, you have to admit that he is right about one thing: you are not feeling so good —; but who would after attending one of Stark’s parties? He always says that if your head is not sore and your throat is not burning the next day, then you haven’t enjoyed yourself enough. Surely you have enjoyed enough to last a lifetime, although you are not naive enough to swear to never touch a bottle again in your life. Yet, you’ve thought of it for an instant, the lingering nausea making you regret your actions because it gave you the unpleasant feeling that you might throw up at any time.

God, you were weak. So weak that everything was feeling too much right now, even the faint sunlight making its way into your room —; it makes you want to bury yourself alive to avoid all these sensations, and to die. Except you can’t because you have a mission that is scheduled for today and, if you don’t show up soon, they will come looking for you, which is the last thing you want. You have spent weeks preparing for that, you definitely can’t let them down now, especially not because you are just too stupid to know your limits.

You have abandoned them once, you won’t make the same mistake a second time. They won’t be so forgiving this time, no one forgives someone who does the same mistake twice —; no one gives a second chance to traitors. It has been several years since you came back, but you still feel like you are on probation and you need to prove to them that they can count on you. You can sense their hesitation to trust you, even though they insist that everything is fine —; pretending that everything is the way it used to be. It is their new favorite game, but you hate it. Y

et, you don’t have much choice but to play by their rules.

‘Are you sure? Becaus~’ 

‘I said, shut. the. fuck. UP!’ you yelled, not giving him to finish his sentence, already reaching the limits of your patience, ‘what’s so difficult to understand in those two words?’ you growled in frustration, and you can’t help but throw a pillow at the walls. The gesture is useless because it doesn’t even manage to ease the tension you feel, nor does it convince Jarvis that he needs to stop talking because he starts lecturing you about your actions. 

Actually, the only way you have found to shut him up was to get up and join the others for breakfast. Fortunately, only Tony and Steve were there. They are the ones you are going on mission with today, and that’s what they were talking about before you entered the room.  Even though you would rather stay alone, talking about missions is something you can do with little effort because it is easy. You need your brain, but you can turn off your emotions. You do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or how to avoid an uncomfortable silence. It is familiar, and comforting. It has been a while since you've been sitting at this table talking about something else —; when you are not talking about work, you stay silent. It seems that you have forgotten how to interact with them during those years. 

As they go through the details of the mission one last time, you are playing with your breakfast, not interested in the oat flakes floating in your milk, nor in their voices that forms a dull hum in the background, their words not even reaching your ears —; because you are thinking, your eyebrows furrowed with worry. Except that your state isn’t caused by the reasons they think it is, neither the alcohol nor the mission are in your mind, only a certain spy with whom you shared a moment last night. One you would rather forget because the simple thought of the thing you have said, and done, is enough to fill you with rage and embarrassment.

‘Hi to the moon, here the earth,’ Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, ‘were you even listening to us?’ he sighed, but you don’t notice any annoyance in his voice. Only a sickening worry that you can read in his eyes, a feeling that he doesn’t share and doesn’t hide very well. You hate it, when they look at you that way, as if you could break at any moment, as if they needed to be careful —; but you can take it. You can take everything, and you definitely do not need their permanent protection. 

‘No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,’ you admitted, giving him a smile that I hoped to be convincing enough to reassure him.

‘Do not worry, everything is going to be fine, okay? We will be here to make sure of that,’ Steve intervened, trying to reassure you about what he thought was the cause of your worries, but his tone didn’t feel comforting to you. If anything, it made you grit your teeth and clench your hand harder around your spoon, increasing your irritation. You don’t really know why, but Steve has been the hardest to get along with since you have come back, maybe it is because of his seemingly false sympathy. 

‘Thank you,’ you managed to mumble, even though you don’t really mean it —; it was still better than the snide comment that made its way in your mind. You even made the effort to smile, one that anyone could see as fake, but not Steve, because he never really pays attention to the others.

The words burn on the tip of your tongue, and you have to bite it to not shout out to him what you are really thinking. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are as capable as anyone around this table. You have proven yourself over the last few months, succeeding in every mission they have given you, what more do you need to do for them to have faith in your abilities again? Reach for the moon? Because you are ready to do it if that’s the price to pay. You are desperate enough to do anything they would ask. 

In reality, you are not worried at all about the upcoming mission because that is not a possibility. You don’t fail, ever, and if you need to give pieces of yourself and mind in order to complete a mission, then you are ready to do it without flinching. 

No, your thoughts were occupied by something else —; or someone else. Something that was more difficult to manage because there is no guide to follow. This person is Natasha, and the cause of your worries is the moment you shared last night because you have no explanation for what happened —; you thought she hated you, and that you hated her. Aren’t you both supposed to despise each other for the pain you’ve caused? Then why do some of you still yearn for her presence? Why didn’t she reject you and, instead, decided to take care of your mess? This even wasn’t meant to be. The redhead is the last person that should have witnessed you in such a vulnerable state, and yet she is the one you have sought attention from, the only one you needed last night —; and you hate that. You hate how your feelings are still the same even after so many years.

That is exactly why, the second the woman that is haunting your thoughts stepped in the room, you left it, pretending that you needed to get ready for the mission. There is no way that the way you walked out of the room, leaving your untouched breakfast behind you, didn’t bring questions to their minds but you were long gone before any of them could say something.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAG LIST — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @escapereality4music, @fxckmiup, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[romancherry]

Wheels & Whiskey

Chapter 1: A Night Out

pairings ➝ biker!joel miller x doctor!reader

summary ➝ you have been evoiding him for a while. now, your friend unknowingly drags you somewhere you cannot escape him.

warnings ➝ none

word count ➝ 951

author’s note ➝ i will post this now, without editing it or adding a cover and whatever. i'll pray for the best, and if i wake up in the morning and see this blowing up, i'll continue it. love yall!

do NOT repost, reupload, translate or plagiarize my work.

After busy days at work in the hospital wore you down completely to the point you were literally married to the job and never leaving the house unless you had to go to work; it was clear your best friend had to do something about it.

Maria is your well trusted nurse, but a devilish little friend. She moved into town at the same time you did, which was about two months ago, so she didn't know how things really went around here; and neither did you. But you thought it would be common sense not to come here.

You almost jump back into the car when you see where she has driven you: to none other than Wheels & Whiskey, where the big bad bikers gather every day and every night.

You begged her to go home and enjoy yourselves there, but she was too excited to see what all the fuss was about. "I wanna know what bikers eat for dessert," she said. So that's when you realized you had no chance.

It didn't help that everyone knew who you were. The second you walked inside, people made space for you to pass through. "How are you so popular?", Maria asked. "I stitched all the people in here at least twice," you replied.

It was half the truth. Indeed, some of the privilege was granted because you had earned it through your medical capabilities. But most of it came from someone else entirely.

Joel Miller. The owner of the local and the leader of his stupid gang of bikers. The one who's been flirting with you ever since you came into this small town, where everyone knew anyone. You couldn't escape him even if you wanted to.

Joel sat at the far end of the bar, his usual spot, nursing a beer and watching the crowd like a hawk. As the door swung open, his eyes flicked toward it, locking onto you the moment you stepped inside.

Your entrance didn't go unnoticed. The usual murmur of conversation died just a moment, and everyone gave you a little extra space. Joel smirked into his drink, taking a slow sip. He knew why they did that. It wasn't just because you were a doctor.

It was because you were his — and everyone in here knew it, apart from you.

He found you very interesting. He wasn't sure if it was the way you didn't fall for the small-town charms or how you'd walk past him with that cool, detached look on your face, but you weren't like anyone else in this place. And if he was being honest with himself, it made you damn hard to resist.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes never left you as you made your way through the crowd.

Maria, the one who had no idea what she was walking into, was giddy with excitement as you passed her.

Joel's smirk twitched. He could already see her trying to play it cool, acting like she wasn't intimidated by the sheer presence of everyone in this room.

But you? You walked around here like you owned the place. And Joel wasn't one to let you slip by without a little something, a little spark to keep the fire going.

He stood, stretching, before crossing the room in a few long strides, stopping just in front of you and your friend.

"Good evenin', ladies." Joel said, his voice laced with amusement. "Guessin' you didn't come here for the food." He looks up and down at you twice. "Not that I blame you. It's pretty damn good, but I wouldn't say that's what brings most people in here."

He leaned closer just enough to let you feel the heat from his body and that familiar scent of him. "So, what's got you all worked up tonight? You need a drink, or maybe just some company?"

His eyes flicked to you and then to Maria, and then back to you. "I could show you around, if you're interested. I can think of a few things that might keep your attention." His voice dropped a little, playful but with an edge of something deeper.

"Though, I'm not sure your friend can keep up." Joel's grin was easy, but there was something behind it. He wasn't looking for you to turn him down tonight.

"Maria, this is Joel, the owner of this local. Joel, she is Maria, my friend from work."

Joel's smile didn't falter, even as you dismissed his advances with practiced indifference. He was used to your cool demeanor, but it never stopped him from trying to chip away at it.

"Nice to meet you," he said, his tone smooth as velvet. "I'm sure you'll find the place... interesting," he added, looking around with a knowing glance that made it clear this wasn't just any regular bar.

"This is... a lot," Maria's eyes widened as she took in the surroundings, looking around at the rough crowd, the tattoos, the flexing muscles.

Joel chuckled, the sound warm but tinged with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly who he was. His gaze shifted back to you, that flicked of challenge still in his eyes.

"I'll take care of you tonight, Doc. You need anythin', you let me know. Drinks are on me, as always."

Maria shot you a glance, clearly impressed by his boldness.

Joel tipped his beer toward you in a small salute, the unspoken challenge still lingering in the air, before he turned back to the bar, sliding back into his seat, his eyes flickering toward you one more time, almost like a promise.

He wasn't going anywhere tonight.

[eroscomet]

Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours

Chapter one- Pieces of the Past

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Paring: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Context: You've known Tara for most of her life in Woodsboro, though you two were never close. After moving to NYC to escape everything she and her sister endured, she finds herself trying to regain control of her life despite being a wreck. After killing Amber, who had been her girlfriend for years, she has a hard time trusting new people as well as trusting relationships. During her time at Blackmore University, she finds herself getting closer to you. She unintentionally plays the push-and-pull game with you, pulling you in as if she wants to be more than friends with you and then pulling away when you actually seem to want to commit.

Warnings: Talks about death, murder, grievance, Trauma, PTSD, Mentions of forms of abuse, Mentions alcoholism, Mentions of weapons, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I am currently working on the second part of 'Make it Right', it will be out soon, I promise. For now, I've decided to also begin writing other one-shots or starting other stories! I believe I am going to write more fics for Jenna's different characters. It might've been just a bit inspired by 'Casual' by Chappell Roan but that'll come in later chapters.

Not proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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No one said it was going to be easy, especially for the Carpenter sisters. With everything that they have endured, they now carry emotional baggage that they feel will follow them everywhere. Or so Sam feels that way. Tara refuses forthat to be her path, she refuses to be someone who lets one event define her entire life. She saw it with Sidney, Gale, and all those who have been through the same thing as her. People who can never seem to escape or move on from their past.

Tara refuses to see the therapist that Sam has been in contact with for her therapy sessions. She truly believes that she can handle it all on her own. Which, in retrospect, sounds absurd. Planning to go through four years of university without any help with her mental and emotional baggage? She doesn't want to talk to her friends about what happened or even think about what happened.

A part of her is still somewhat grieving Amber, it's expected, though. They had dated for quite some while, but Tara is now left with the thoughts of, 'Was any of it real?' Was Tara a pawn in Amber's sick and twisted game? That's how she felt like, at least. Like she let this all happen. Like all of it was somehow her fault. These destructive thoughts allowed Tara to cave in on herself. Her mind was as much a battlefield as her life itself.

Did she survive? Yes. Did she escape? No. She thought that moving away from Woodsboro would save her, she thought it was an escape. Her mind restricted her of that relief, of that escape. She survived, but at what cost? She feels she has absolutely no sense of direction. She wanted to blame Amber just as everyone had and then moved on, but she couldn'twhen she blamed herself for somehow allowing this to happen. Even now that Amber is gone, she still plagues her mind. 

There is no excuse that she can give for Amber's actions, and she isn't sure that she wants to make an excuse for her.Every night for her is the same. The memory, the nightmare turned reality, haunts her. It's always the same but in a third-person point of view. She sees herself holding the gun, everything slowing down for her at that exact moment. The gun recoiled as the shot was taken, the noise ringing out from it. The look on Amber's face, the realization on her face.

Like every time, the bullet comes in contact with Amber's head, and just like that, she's dead again. The sound of the knife that she once held in her hand clattering on the floor. The sound had been almost deafening in her nightmares. It'salmost taunting the way that she watched as the blood splattered on her face. The blood that had belonged to her once beloved girlfriend.

Beloved. That's how Tara had seen Amber.

It's almost comical to you how Tara had ever seen Amber in any context but fake and off-putting. Amber wasn't the kindest, the easiest to get along with, or even the most caring. You'd almost feel guilty for not speaking out about it earlier if it weren't for others who had also felt that way and kept quiet as well. You weren't exactly friends with their friend group, you had always felt yourself to be a side character.

Chad had always been all over Liv. They were cute, sure, but there was no need for that PDA. Mindy was constantly going on about different horror movies, as well as still somehow complaining about not having a girlfriend and not wanting to commit to one. Wes was caring and all, but he could also get annoying at times. He had been the only one in the friend group who had felt the off feeling about Amber. It seemed like he and Amber were always bumping heads about Tara.

When Wes died, and the news got out about Amber being the one behind the killings along with Sam's boyfriend, Richie, you knew why he had been killed. Amber felt like he was an obstacle—blocking her path to Tara, stopping her from moving forward with everything. But what frustrated her the most was how much he'd begun questioning her, noticing how strangely she’d been acting. You felt almost thankful for keeping your mouth shut about how you felt. It could have been you.

In all honesty, you and Tara had been close at one point. Back in elementary, you had always invited Tara over to your house after noticing how Tara would spend hours waiting for someone to pick her up after school. She'd sometimes mention how she'd be locked out of her house because her mother wasn't home. You had let her come over, you never minded it since the two of you were friends after all.

Looking back at it, knowing what you know now, it's a bit bittersweet. Knowing the only reason it would take a while for someone to pick up Tara was that she had to wait until Sam got out of school, then walk from her middle school to Tara's elementary school, and finally bring Tara home. The times that she would say she was locked out of the house were either her mother was off getting drunk anywhere she could or her mother would lock her out as a form of punishment.

The thought of you not being there for her earlier had always stung. What about the times that it was raining? Was Tara out in the rain alone? You could never bring yourself to ask her, careful not to bring something up that could take her back to that time. You two had stuck together since those days in elementary when she'd come over constantly. Middle school is when it had gotten a bit rocky, Amber had finally come into the picture.

Amber was new, and Tara had always been too kind and understanding for her good. One day of simply showing Amber around the school had turned into having lunches together or hanging out after school. Days when you'd hang out with them or even with Tara alone, you had always felt Amber's burning glare and jealousy, even from behind. You always ignored it though, being able to hang out with Tara was worth it.

It was around this time that you had begun to like Tara and not in a normal friendship platonic way. It was easy to fall for Tara, or so you thought so. She was pretty, inside and out. Her face had always perfectly reflected her beauty on the inside. You were sure that Amber somehow knew that you liked her because of the constant glares. Still, you ignored her because you knew Tara way before Amber had ever known her.

Ignoring, however, had made it worse even though you were trying to steer away from conflict. Amber didn't take you ignoring her lightly. She began finding excuses to take you and Tara's time away from you. Saying anything that would make sweet and naive Tara feel guilty for leaving Amber behind. Hangouts between you and her had become hangouts between the three of you. Then, slowly, Tara slipped away from your fingers and right into Amber's arms.

You tried not to dwell on it too much, as was expected, but it had hurt how it had seemed so easy for Tara to forget and replace you. You weren't angry with Tara, but you were bitter with Amber, yet you held your tongue for Tara's sake.When high school rolled around, rumors had gone around during freshman year that Amber and Tara had begun dating.

This had set you off; your friends hadn't heard the end of it for almost that entire school year. Everything that you see them do, you feel more bitter. That never stopped your feelings for Tara, though, they had only grown since Tara stayed her usual sweet self that had always swept you off your feet. Sophomore year, you spent your entire time busying yourself with your studies and soccer practice. You shut yourself away from hearing things about Tara and Amber's 'amazing' relationship.

That's when junior year rolled by, it seemed like you had some luck this year. You and Tara shared a math class, Algebra II, without a certain possessive girlfriend around to keep you away from Tara. You're sure that Amber noticed you two shared a class because Tara wasn't as talkative with you. Maybe you had grown apart? Or maybe Amber had told her to stay away from you? 

Senior year is when it all happened. It was hard to keep up with all the information that felt like it was being thrown at you. First, Tara's attack, then the following murders, Sam being back in town with her weird boyfriend, and Amber suddenly getting more controlling and possessive.

Tara, on the other hand, felt like she had been thrown into the eye of the tornado. She was both happy and bitter that her sister had returned after having no contact with her for so long. Just because she had gotten hurt, she returned? It sounded like bullshit to her, but a big part of her had missed Sam. 

Sam had been around to meet Amber, having left when Tara had been in 8th grade. She never liked Amber; she had always felt something was off about her, and no matter the countless times she told Tara that, Tara had always defended Amber. Upon seeing that Amber was still a part of Tara's life and now has a more important role than a friend, it irked her a bit. Amber had been bitter with Sam from the moment that she returned; maybe it was because of everything Tara had opened up to her about Sam, or maybe it was all a part of the act.

When it had been just Sam and Tara in the room, she had asked Tara where you had gone. "Whatever happened to her, I liked her." She had said. Tara had dismissed it with a small excuse, but hearing your name had tugged at her heart a bit, though she quickly ignored it. When Tara thought back to then, it made her feel stupid how she hadn't reached out to you sooner, but she knew that she was stuck in a position she couldn't leave. She was blinded by what she had thought was love with Amber. 

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Tara woke up on the couch in the apartment that she, Sam, and their roommate Quinn shared. Quinn was out, probably on some Tinder date that would end in her staying the night with her date. Sam had been working late shifts, still trying to afford both the apartment and now Tara's education as well. She awoke to the sound of a phone ringing, a small groan escaping her lips. 

She sat up on the couch, sighing before grabbing her phone off of the coffee table. She didn't care to check the contact name, she simply picked up the phone. All she had heard was a static noise, which caused her to furrow her eyebrows. A breathing noise was heard through the other end of the phone. Suddenly, the noise of the front door's knob jingling had caused her to be on high alert.

She felt herself retreat to the state she was never able to leave behind. Her hands shook as her heart began to pound, dropping her phone on the floor. A soft thump was heard as her phone fell onto the living room carpet. She completely froze, not knowing what to do and even if she had known, she was too paralyzed by fear to do it. 

Eventually, the door opened and she clasped her hand over her mouth, her other hand grabbing the remote from next to her on the couch. Felt tears beginning to prick from the corners of her eyes.

"Tara! Sam asked me to check up on you-" You had begun saying before you felt the remote hit you in the head to which your hand reflexively held where the remote hit you on the head. "Gah! What the-"

You felt your words die on your lips as you saw Tara in the state she was in. Her sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by you as you began putting two and two together that you had triggered her. Before you could say anything, you saw tears slip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. You put down the bag of take-out that you had brought for her to eat onto the coffee table before rushing to her. Kneeling in front of her a waterfall of apologies escaped from your lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Tara, it's just me. I came to check up on you, Sam just wanted to make sure you were okay." You said as you leaned up, wrapping your arms around her. She quickly responded by wrapping her trembling arms around you.

Ever since attending Blackmore with Tara and her friend group, completely unplanned, you had gotten back into touch with her. You were one of the only 'outsiders' that she trusted with Tara to check up on her on nights like this. It would be considered a bit pathetic how you seemed at Tara's disposal. Everything she needed, you wanted to give her. 

So, for every message, call, and hang out, you'd immediately accept. Tara knew you liked her but she could never bring herself to be honest with herself about her feelings for you. She just knew it felt good to be cared for by you and to have your attention. All your actions were right, she just couldn't bring herself to trust to love someone and trust someone again.

The thought of a relationship was completely out of her mind until it came to you. This was quickly shaken away by her clouding thoughts of fear. She can't deny the pull to you, but she also cannot deny the thoughts that practically consumed her. Still, she continued to see you. She continued to call on you and be around you. She thought that the two of you had come to the understanding that things between the two of you were casual and light. 

Any time that you had begun to bring up wanting more than stolen kisses and secret cuddling, she'd quickly change the topic. You almost felt embarrassed for wanting to ask what you two were. Then again, you felt like it was better to have her this way than not at all.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you pulled away from the hug, your hands cupping her face to carefully examine her. Her tears had calmed, her breathing a little shaky and uneven, but she still had nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She said with a small sniffle, "Just everything felt like... Never mind." 

"I'm sorry. I just came to check up and bring you something to eat." You said as you began peppering her face with soft and short kisses, trying to make her feel better and partially so she could forgive you. 

"You need to eat." You had added as you pulled away, tucking her bangs behind her ears as she nodded. Sending her a small, soft smile, you began to unpack the takeout for the both of you.

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A/N: I'm going, to be honest, I did not expect to write so much. I had to cut it short because I was going to go on and on. I'm beginning to contemplate turning into a fic as well. The words sort of flowed out of me, and there definitely is a plot that I can build on. I hope you guys enjoyed this! Again, I am currently making the next part to 'Make it Right,' this was meant to be like a little filler to keep you guys entertained, and I started a whole new fic. I'm going to hope to finish the next part of 'Make it Right' and post it sometime tomorrow. Thank you all for reading, as well as for the support on my last post! Bye, lovelies!

[odinsonslut]

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n:  I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm. 

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated. 

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued. 

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself. 

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

-

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention. 

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms 

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

-

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.  

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through 

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond. 

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise  I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.” 

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand. 

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

[tetsuissohot]

Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT

☆summary. After a painful breakup, Y/N thought she had moved on from Toji Fushiguro, but when he reappears in her life, old feelings resurface. Toji, determined to win her back, confesses his regret and desire for a second chance. As the two wrestle with unresolved emotions, Y/N faces the struggle between her lingering love for him and the fear of getting hurt again. In the midst of their heated confrontation, passion takes over, and Y/N must decide if Toji’s promises are enough to trust him once more.

☆warning/tags: 18+fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 1

☆word count:1.1k

☆a/n: This my first work lol, please be kind and tell me where I can get improve! I'm thinking of doing a second part for this oneshot where things get a bit spicier. I hope you enjoy!

part 2

The dimly lit bar was buzzing with the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared blankly at the glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid inside as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—missions, responsibilities, and emotions she had long since buried.

But all of that seemed insignificant when he walked in.

Toji Fushiguro.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass at the sight of him. Even in the crowded bar, his presence was commanding—tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying an aura that both attracted and warned people to stay away. His dark green eyes scanned the room with a predator's calm until they landed on her. A smirk tugged at his lips.

He walked toward her, his steps confident and sure, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe he did—Toji had always been direct, never one to beat around the bush. But it wasn’t his confidence that made Y/N’s heart race; it was the fact that seeing him again brought back memories she had worked so hard to suppress.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was deep, gruff, and achingly familiar.

Y/N didn’t bother looking up as she took another sip of her drink. “It’s a free country.”

Unfazed by her cold response, Toji pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned back casually, arms draped over the chair like he had all the time in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Y/N finally met his eyes, her expression unreadable. “I’m not avoiding you, Toji. We’re just... done. I thought we both agreed on that.”

Toji’s smirk faded, and his face took on a seriousness that Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Maybe you did. I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay composed. “You were the one who walked away,” she reminded him, her voice steady. “You were the one who said this—we—weren’t meant to last.”

Toji’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. He remembered that day all too well. The bitter words he had thrown at her, the way he had convinced himself that he was better off alone—that she was better off without him. But now, sitting across from her, the regret felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice softer now, laced with something Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from him—vulnerability. “I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

Y/N scoffed, setting her glass down with a clink. “Easier? You think walking out without an explanation made things easier for me?”

Toji winced, his usual unshakable demeanor faltering. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to being the one in the wrong. But he knew he couldn’t sugarcoat it, couldn’t charm his way out of this like he did with everything else.

“You deserved better,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I was messed up. Still am, probably. But…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because—dammit—I want you back.”

Y/N stared at him, shock flashing across her face before she quickly masked it with indifference. “You don’t get to just come back after disappearing, Toji. I moved on.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, the idea of her moving on hitting him harder than he anticipated. He wasn’t used to losing—especially not to someone else. The thought of Y/N with anyone else made his blood boil, but he forced himself to calm down.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said slowly, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m asking for a second chance.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to keep the walls she had built around her heart intact. “You can’t just walk back into my life whenever it’s convenient for you. I’ve been fine without you, Toji.”

He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming. “Have you? Because I haven’t been.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle over her. Toji was never one to admit weakness, never one to let his guard down. But here he was, laying it all out in front of her, as raw and honest as she’d ever seen him.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice rough. “It’s not. I’m no good at this… at us. But I’m trying, Y/N. I’ve spent every day since we split wishing I hadn’t walked away.”

Y/N could feel the cracks forming in her defenses. She wanted to be angry—was angry—but there was something in Toji’s eyes that made it hard to hold onto that anger. She’d never seen him like this, so exposed.

“Toji…” Y/N began, but her voice faltered, unsure of what to say.

“Just tell me there’s still something there,” Toji said, his voice almost pleading now. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she searched his face, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion, anger, and longing. She had loved him once—loved him deeply. And even though she had tried to move on, a part of her had never really let go.

But was that enough?

“You hurt me,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. “And I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

Toji’s face softened, his hand reaching out across the table, hesitating before he touched hers. When his fingers finally brushed against her skin, it was tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her anymore.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I won’t make that mistake again. I swear.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his gaze.

She had every reason to push him away, to tell him it was too late. But in the depth of her heart, she knew that despite everything, she still cared for him.

“I need time,” Y/N finally said, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not promising anything, Toji. But… I’ll think about it.”

Relief flooded Toji’s face, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled—really smiled. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

As they sat there in the dim light, their hands still touching, Y/N realized that maybe second chances weren’t always about forgetting the past. Sometimes, they were about finding a way to move forward—together, despite the scars.

And maybe, just maybe, Toji Fushiguro was worth the risk.

Thank you for reading xoxo

MASTERLIST

[igotanidea]

Family unity: Dick Grayson x reader (pt 1)

Request: Damian's fullblood older sister age 19 and Dick's ex coming to live with Bruce and Damian. She gets shocked about seeing Dick and it's obvious they both still have feelings for each other. But upon realising that she had a romantic history with Dick, Bruce and Dami goes into full protective mode.

A/N: this is part 1, with part 2 coming, cause I wanted to really dive into that "protecive mode" without writing a story of 20 pages :D

***

“So this place is like a hellhole?” she asked, watching Gotham’s landscape unveil from behind the windows of Bruce's limo.

“Indeed. But in time I think you might find some charm to it.”

“Charm? Damian, please, don’t joke like that.” Y/N Al-Ghul Wayne scoffed at her younger brother. Don’t you remember the surroundings of the league of assassins? That had a charm to it. And this place –“

“I’ve been here for almost two years, sister. I believe I may have a better background to claim Gotham has a charm too.”

“You have changed, little brother, haven’t you?” the girl raised an eyebrow at him, only earning a boyish smile in response. No matter how much Damian was trying to hide it, there was something softer about him. And something more mature and human in respect of his behaviour.  And there was no chance in the world that this switch wouldn’t move something in her older sister’s heart.

Using the moment of Damian’s complacency she leaned forward on her seat and ruffled his hair playfully. Almost like back in time in Eth Alth'eban. They may have been raised by Thalia and Ra’s to be living weapons, but aside from all that, the same blood running in their veins was insurmountable. Both Damian and Y/N were similar on so many levels and trusted only each other when it came to showing that more human face.

Well.

Almost.

In Damian’s case that has clearly changed during the few months of their father’s upbringing.

And in her case…

There was one person she trusted back in the days. The boy she liked. Maybe even more. But it backfired on her, leaving her with a very painful lesson that people come and go, feelings flee and you end up getting hurt. After two years of losing him, she was still careful with her heart and even more careful with letting down her walls.  

“Y/N…” Damian asked softly, seeing her blurry eyes fixed on the horizon as they turned and got on the driveway to the manor. “What are you thinking about…?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. There was truly no way to burden Damian with her past. Not when he was clearly starting to open up to the world.

“Hey…” the younger boy slowly reached for his sister’s hand. “You’re my sister. I care.”

“I know, Dami. I know.” She squeezed his fingers and sent a soft smile. “I know and I got a feeling it might be handy if I am to stay here.”

“My katana is still sharp.” Damian smirked, but underneath that teasing face expression she could see obvious concern for her well-being.

“Are you fighting skills?”

“Duh! Fighting room is the first place I am going to show you.”

‘Can’t wait for that.”

Before she could add anything else the car pulled off signalling that they’ve reached their destination. Second later, the door opened and Y/N was greeted with the sight of the Wayne Manor.

“That’s it?” she tilted head, taking in the magnificent building with its surroundings. “Thought it was bigger.”

“I know. At first I was disappointed too. Still am. But you’ll get used to the poor housing conditions. Oh, there’s father… Hello father.”

Bruce was already descending the stairs to greet both his real kids home.

“Y/N.”

“Father.”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

“Such generosity of you to let me crash here.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted. This exchange was awkward to say the least and not the way he thought it would come. Perhaps he should have expected that being raised by her mother would not exactly make Y/N open and trusting, let alone a chatterbox. If anything, she was keeping her emotions and her words close to her chest, examining the surroundings as if internally coming up with contingency plans.

Just like Damian when he first came to Gotham.

Just like Bruce himself.

The fact that she was his daughter was undeniable, after all the blood does not lie.

And that was why Bruce had to take a different approach to her.

“Let me help you with that.” He reached for her backpack, quite small considering the fact she was keeping most of her belongings there. Not much fancy clothes, make up stuff or anything you might expect of a 19 year-old – woman.

“No need. I’ll handle it.” Y/N effortlessly swung the bag over her arm. “Shall we?” Her watchful gaze moved between Bruce – a man who helped bring her to life and yet, who she did not know – and Damian – who was standing idly by. “I mean – we are going inside, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted again, only adding fire to Y/N’s assumption that living here would be a huge challenge, and slowly led her towards the manor door.

***

“Miss Y/N. A pleasure to meet you. I am Alfred. The butler.”

“Pennyworth?” she made sure, connecting the dots in her head, examining the older man from head to toe.

“Yes. And you, Miss, are truly a spitting image of your father and brother. I suppose everyone within the Wayne blood range has an utterly terrific tendency to use last names instead of the first…”

“Y/n?!”

The exchange between the girl and Alfred was abruptly interrupted upon the appearance of a young man with just a towel around his waist, bare chest and wet hair, all of the above indicating that he has just finished taking a shower.

“Master Dick, how many times do I have to tell you to not wet the floor?”

“Grayson!” Damian hissed, taking quite a different approach to his older brother’s attire. “Dress up! We got a woman in the house and you will not deprive her with your nakedness.”

The situation was already hilarious but 12 year old Damian talking about the depravity of his 19 year old sister only added to the grotesqueness.

And then Y/N finally realised what both Damian and Alfred said.

Master Dick.

Grayson.

And that half-naked man, leaving water marks on the floor, knew her name!

Shit.

No.

***

“What was that?” Damian asked half an hour later, while he and Y/N were in her room, having stopped her from spinning on her feet, running out the door and going back to League of Assassins even if she had to crawl there for a month. “Since when do you run Y/N? That’s disappointing.”

“You are not going anywhere.” The door opened and Bruce walked inside.

“Hm.” She only muttered turning towards the window with her back to him. Bruce’s blood for crying out loud. She might as well stay in this position for the hours, days and weeks to come, but upon looking down she noticed that fuckingly annoying Dick Grayson looking up, right at her window, now fully dressed, with a  smirk and  carelessly waving at her.  “I’m going back home.”

“You are violating my privacy.” She hissed.

“Did you have much of that while living with your mother?”

“You will not speak about my mother.” The girl looked at him with anger and need for revenge in her eyes “You didn’t care much about her when you banged her and left with a kid, did you? And then, you did not care much about me, when while I was 7 you showed up to have another steamy banging with her, did you?”

“Y/n.” Bruce muttered with a hint of warning

“Y/n…” Damian muttered at the same time, having forgotten how straight-forward and oblivious to societal norms his sister could be. And listening to their parents’ turbulent history in Y/N’s words wasn’t pleasant for the younger one either.

“Shit. Sorry, Dami. Didn’t mean to bring that out, it’s just-“ she clenched her fists.

“Just what?”

“Damian, please leave me alone with Y/N for a moment will you?” Bruce turned to his son. Whatever was eating up the girl it was quite obvious that a kid, that Damian still was, should not listen to it. If his daughter was having something against him, Bruce was not going to drag the entire family into the fight.

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I am not leaving her alone with you, father.”

“But-“

Damian frowned, getting up and walking towards his sister, taking place right next to her in a form of stubbornness and quiet support. Shockingly, those actions made his father both proud and annoyed but it was obvious that a parent stood no chance against the joined forces of his assassins kids.

“Fine.” He grunted. “So you hate me Y/N. You have every right to and –“ in fact, the great Bruce Wayne, the CEO of a company, honorary citizen and benefactor of charity causes had no idea how to talk to a young woman.

“I hate all men…” she muttered, with fists still clenched and jaw tight.

“Hm?”

“I hate-“

“We heard but-“

“What did he do?” Damian cut their word exchange, being faster than his father to caught up on details.

“What?” Bruce looked between their kids with a confused frown.

“He left me…” she whispered, looking at the floor.

“When?”

“Two years ago…”

“What are you two talking about?!” Bruce finally exclaimed, getting two mocking gazes from Y/N and Damian. At this moment neither of them could believe that with such an amount of obliviousness their father claimed to be the greatest detective in the world. Ignoring him, they continued their conversation.

“How did that even happen?” Damian inquired “How did you meet? When did you meet? Did you – ugh! – did you two--?!”

“You should not be concerned with that—”

Bruce quietly sighed and sat on the nearest chair, almost blending into the wall, figuring out that it was best to gather information by pretending he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Damian asked her, but she only fixed her eyes on him with no sign of emotion. “You can’t use that trick on me, sister.”

“I’ve taught you that trick.” She pointed out.

“And since the apprentice has surpassed the master you can’t use that trick on me. He hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“No one will be killing anyone here.” Bruce decided this was the time to cut in, before someone got hurt physically. “Did he… um… I assume we’re talking about Dick?” Another batch of condemning looks was enough of an answer “ Did Dick break your heart?”

“Father!”

“That’s it. I’m going home!”

“What did I say this time?!”

“Y/N does not have a heart to break!”

“You have no right to interfere in my life! I barely know you!”

“Well I want to help!”

“Why do you even care?!”

Three Waynes under one rooftop were clearly too many, because their similar characters caused them all to start fighting and yelling at each other, forcing Alfred to walk upstairs, sat each of them in the different corner of the room, threatening with putting all the house duties on them, forcing them to stop the screams and actually start the talk.

***

It's been an hour since Alfred’s intervention and neither of them said a word.

Y/N was mad at the question about her emotions.

Damian was waiting for Y/N’s word to support her against the father.

And Bruce was making plans and schemes on how to best approach his daughter with a belated teenage rebellion going on.

“When Damian left for Gotham…” she finally started, with a voice so quiet it was barely audible in the room. “I wanted to see some of the world too… I packed my bags and just moved.”

“Grandfather couldn’t have been happy about it.”  Damian muttered

“You were always his favourite. After your departure he didn’t pay much attention to me, so –“ she shrugged. “Anyway, I started travelling. And during one of my travels I met Dick Grayson.”

“He was having his self-exploration time at the moment…” Bruce added and Y/N nodded.

“That’s what he said to me too. Not that I asked. Honestly, I never asked him a single thing. He just seems to have that effect on people when…” her voice broke a little and in that short moment of hesitation both Damian and Bruce moved to sit closer to her, leaving their respective corners. “I was 17 and out in the world for the first time. Such a stupid kid…”

“You liked him.” Bruce said softly, knowing he had to thread carefully.

“Too much apparently.” A single tear fell from her eye but instead of getting cold because of that, she felt warmth in the area of her hands. Looking down she realised that both her brother and father were holding them as a form of reassurance she decided to accept. “I knew he was Nightwing. He knew I was trained as an assassin. I even told him we could work together, but – “

“He left.”

“Yes.”

“He came back to Gotham, because of his duties here.”

“Well, I know that now…”

“Y/N.”

“I got closure now, right? He put the duties before whatever stupid thing we had going. You can learn from heartbreaks, right?” she was trying her best to not fall apart, but it was too much.

After all, behind all those layers of indifference, harshness and assassin upbringing she was only a girl whose heart was broken and who never let it in. After Dick abandoned her, she dug her emotions inside, instead deciding on travelling more and forgetting about the incident.

Only now, when she saw him again, after two years, this deeply hidden thorn has pierced the layers of inaccessibility she has built around herself. Bringing out tears.

And that was as surprising to her as it was for Damian and Bruce, who froze at first.

But when Alfred decided to open the door once more, getting alerted by the ominous quietness coming from upstairs, he saw three Waynes on the floor, almost snuggled together (which was the Waynes equivalent of sitting next to each other with Bruce’s arm around Y/N;s shoulder and Damian’s head on her shoulder).

And even though he was as quiet as a mouse, he got three pairs of eyes fixed on him immediately, warning him to not speak a single word about it to anyone.

***

She was just like he remembered.

With fire in her eyes, intelligence on her face and a fighter attitude.

All the traits that made him fall for her.

All the traits that made him stay in love with her.

Little did she know, that when he was waving at her from the driveway, with that teasing smirk and aloof attitude it was not supposed to tease her. It was a desperate attempt at reaching out. A foolish belief they could mend the gap and maybe – maybe …

No.

She was not going to forgive him let alone let him enter her life again.

And the worst part was that he was already in the lost position.

For all his golden boy attitude, all his friendliness and the fact he was Bruce’s first adopted kid and Damian’s favourite brother was nothing in comparison with the fact that with Y/N coming to live in the Manor the roles switched.

Bruce becoming a protective father and Damian turning into a revenge seeking sibling.

It was going to be a hard time for Dick Grayson. 

[ashwhowrites]

Part 1

Here is part 2!!! I hope you guys like it and it was worth waiting for. Thank you for all the love and support on part 1 🥹 it means the world. Enjoy :) never proofread

~~

Steve and Eddie raced to the school, anxiety in their veins as Eddie parked the van. Both boys ran into the building, following the sounds of screaming and cheering.

Steve pushed through the huge crowd, arms immediately wrapping around Y/N's body. Yanking her frame off of Jason, who is on the floor groaning in pain.

"STOP. STOP" Steve screamed, trying to keep his grip tight as she wiggled and squirmed to get out of his touch.

Eddie raced behind, going for Jason instead. Y/N doesn't fight unless she's provoked and he had a good idea Jason started it.

But Eddie's attention on Jason got caught short, hearing Steve Y/N's name as she marched down the hall.

~~

Steve didn't waste a second running after her. He let her walk away once, and he didn't want to do it again.

"Please, just stop" Steve pleaded, hand reaching out to grasp her elbow.

She hated that she melted once he touched her. She was mad at Eddie, but Steve hurt her too.

"what Steve? Now you want to talk?" She spat out, turning around to face him. Cradling her own elbow out of his touch.

"I'm sorry, I never should have let you walk away without listening to you first. You deserve to have the opportunity to explain." Steve confessed. He watched her closely. Her eyes were blocked off from any emotion. And her lips were turned down into a frown.

"no, I don't deserve to explain myself, I deserve to have my boyfriends trust me enough to not even think twice about a rumor like that. I also deserve to be treated as my person. Not a shell of the people who hurt both of you in past moments. I'm not Nancy, and I'm not whoever the fuck Eddie thought I was. I'm me, and you both didn't trust her. Fuck both of you. You followed behind Eddie's lead like a fucking dog. Don't you think for yourself, Steve? It's pretty clear where I stand compared to Eddie. " She said harshly, turning back around and marching out of the school.

Steve took the hit, he deserved it. He was a grown man and he should have thought for himself. He knew he was going to hurt her and he did it for Eddie's sake. He was supposed to treat both his partners fairly, and he just put one higher than the other.

~~

Eddie didn't waste much time with Jason. Spat out to leave them alone and followed the direction where Steve went.

Eddie found him alone in the hallway. Shoulders dropped, and Eddie assumed the conversation didn't go well.

"she still pissed?" Eddie asked, arm wrapping around Steve from behind. Steve shrugged him off and created space between the two.

"just don't touch me." Steve sighed, turning to face Eddie. Watching Eddie's face drop.

"what? What did I do?" Eddie scoffed

"We should have been better. And I should have thought for myself. With everything in me, I don't believe she cheated, and I should have told her that. I followed you and I lost her. And seeing this heartless monster you've been, I think I lost you too. If you believe she did it, that's for you to deal with. But I'm not following you anymore." Steve confessed, giving Eddie a small smile and turning to walk out of the school.

~~

Eddie's insecurities cost him both partners. And now it's on him to fix everything.

He always wanted to protect both of his partners, and he's the bad guy who tore it all up.

Eddie wasn't sure how Steve got home, but once Eddie made it in his trailer, he felt alone. He spent night after night in Steve's apartment, never returning home. He went into his bedroom, throwing himself face-first on his mattress.

He wanted to fix things altogether, he didn't want to talk to Y/N and Steve separately. If he was going, to be honest, and break down into pieces, he only wanted to do it once.

~~

Many phone calls later, Eddie got Y/N to answer. Most of his calls were answered with a scoff and the slamming of the phone hitting the wall. He barely could get a word each time. But this wasn't the time to give up. Once he finally got her to stay on the line longer than two seconds, he asked her to come over to talk.

And it wasn't easy. She was stubborn and still pissed off. Calling him every name in the book, dragging his name up and down the block, before finally sighing and saying "Be there in ten."

Eddie knew convincing Steve to come over would be easy, all he had to do was mention he has Y/N on the way over.

~~

The room was silent, and all three of them were uncomfortable. Y/N couldn't look at either of them, keeping her hands in her lap. Steve kept his eyes on Y/N, silently pleading she'll look up. And Eddie kept his eyes on the floor, stomach twisting in knots.

They were in this position all because of Eddie, and he knew that. All the blame rested on his shoulders and his shoulders alone.

"I want to start by thanking both of you for coming and hearing me out." Eddie sighed in one breath. The anxiety filled his stomach.

"yeah, I think it's a nice option to have a chance to explain yourself, but that's not for everyone." Y/N threw out the side remark. Rolling her eyes as she finally looked up at Eddie.

"I'm sorry for everything. Y/N, I'm sorry for attacking you right away, not letting you explain yourself, and turning Steve against you.....I know what I did was so wrong. Deep down I knew I was fucking everything up but I couldn't stop myself. " Eddie voiced out. His eyes connected with Y/N's.

"Eddie, I just don't understand why it was so easy to believe I cheated on you guys. I've been loyal, supportive, and understanding of both of you! I would have believed you guys over anyone. But knowing you chose to believe random high schoolers over your girlfriend is fucked up. And I deserve a real explanation for that. I don't care if you knew you were wrong, it's the fact you continued to be an ass to me. I'm also disgusted by the fact you saw me as someone seeking to hurt Steve and that you felt the need to protect him. Protect him from his girlfriend? That's low." Y/N didn't plan to hold anything back. She spent night after night having her thoughts brewing over and over.

"you deserve an explanation. I need to be honest with both of you and myself. I acted out of insecurity and fear. I....heard the rumor and my first thought was I cannot let anyone know this would hurt me. It's fucked up, and I picked my pride over being vulnerable. I wanted to show I could be unaffected. That the relationship between you and I isn't what I depend on to be happy. But it is, and it's fucked up of me to find that embarrassing to admit. Because it's not. You and Steve make me so fucking happy and show me what love is about. I took all that for granted and tossed it aside like it wouldn't mean anything to me. Neither of you deserved that, and Y/N you didn't deserve to be treated like that. " Eddie took a deep breath before continuing.

"I also want to apologize to Steve, I wanted to protect you but all I did was hurt, everyone. I should have been mature and brought the topic up in a controlled way. I shouldn't have thrown it out in a fit of anger and I shouldn't have turned you against her before she even got home. I was wrong and I was wrong to both of you. I know I don't deserve another chance, I know I didn't give Y/N a fair chance, but I'd like to ask for another chance at being your boyfriend again." Eddie nervously looked between the both of them.

"Before we answer that, I'd like to apologize to Y/N also," Steve sighed out, facing her fully. " You are right, I should have thought for myself. We both know Eddie doesn't communicate well, and I was the only one in that situation that could have controlled the conversation and helped us out. I should have let you explain yourself. You're not Nancy and you've proved that. I also am guilty of letting my insecurities take over and ruining everything we built. I think I speak for Eddie and I when I say, if you give us this chance, we will prove our loyalty to you. And we will always communicate when our insecurities are taking control again. "

Y/N was happy to hear both boys being honest with themselves, admitting that their insecurities got too much and they panicked. It doesn't take away the hurt and damage, but it's a start to fixing everything.

"I appreciate both of you apologizing. Eddie, I'm hurt that you felt that your pride was more important than being vulnerable with me. But I like to hear that you know what's wrong and you are aware that was the wrong thing to do. I know you are trying Eds, and I don't expect you to know what to do all the time. You know you hurt me, and you knew it was on you to fix it. Thank you for taking responsibility for that. I will give you another chance, but I want you to work on your communication. We shouldn't count on Steve for all the communication between us. If you can prove to me that you are working on that, I'm happy for you to be my boyfriend again." She smiled at Eddie, his face breaking out into his smile.

She turned to Steve, a soft look in her eyes. " Thank you for apologizing as well. Thank you for knowing I am not Nancy and thinking over my words. I understand that your insecurities took over and I would also like for you to communicate that to me. I have faith that you can do that. I am also happy for you to be my boyfriend again." She smiled.

All three smiling at each other. Both boys understood they needed to back up their apologies, and show that they meant it.

Eddie knew that no one was ever going to make him as happy as his two partners do. He's lucky enough to have two people fall in love with him. He's safe with them. He can fall apart with them and know neither will judge him. He's flawed and that's okay.

Steve knew Y/N was her person and she was beautiful. She wasn't out to hurt him or Eddie. She just wanted to love them for who they are. Steve knew he needed to think for himself, and speak his thoughts if they happened to disagree with hers or Eddie's.

"Can I kiss you now?" Steve and Eddie asked at the same time, both boys chuckling to themselves as they stare at their girl across from them.

She giggled behind her hands, nodding her head.

"who's going first?" She joked. Knowing a fight was ahead of them.

"ME!" Eddie screamed, shoving Steve as he raced across the room.

Tags!

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[shegatsby]

Heyy,

Hope you are doing well! If you are still open for Hannibal requests, can I request an NBC Hannibal x reader (preferably female or undisclosed) one-shot or headcanons where the reader is a doctor?

Maybe they met at a mutual friend gathering or some sort of event, and there is a medical emergency, so the reader immediately jumps in to stabilise the situation. Such boldness gets Hannibal really interested in her.

~♡~

A/N: HI GUYS! I'm in my prime era. Not me posting everyday lol. Thank you guys so much for your support, love you all. xxx

After working for 18 hours shift Y/N couldn’t even remember how she managed to drive home and threw herself on the soft couch but she woke up on it, in her scrubs, her hair a mess and a dry mouth. She coughed really hard and slowly sat, her head in her palms. She loved her job, she loved helping people that’s why she choose to work in a State hospital instead of a private one. If she worked at a private one her life would be much easier, however she wanted to help people who didn’t have resources to get the treatments, medicine they desperately needed. Over time she got famous for providing medicine without asking any money, talking to other doctors to help patients etc.

She huffed as she stood up, thankfully today was hers and hers only, Y/N had her everything shower, hair masks, face masks, body scrubs, oils and everything. It took her at least 45 minutes but she enjoyed every second of it. Later, she had a late brunch which consisted of bacon and eggs, avocado paste on a warm bread and coffee. She watched her favorite show to laugh a bit. It was The Big Bang Theory. Her day was going great until she had a phone call from a dear friend, Jack Crawford.

The situation was urgent, she knew that the FBI was chasing a killer whose victims were young women in their 20s, Jack called her to tell her that the killer left a living victim behind in the forest, thankfully a woodworker had found her and called 911. Now the poor girl was being transported to the hospital and Jack asked if she could go and check up on her, he added;

 ‘’You’re the only doctor I trust.’’

She was on her couch, reading a classic when she had the call, it was Jack and she couldn’t say no to him so she immediately got dressed. She wore a black skirt, a white turtle neck, she quickly put on her make-up and left. ‘’I’ll only be there to check up on the patient and that’s it.’’ She said to herself as she was driving to the hospital, ‘’And then I’ll go back home.’’

She was greeted by Alana Bloom, Jack had introduced her to Alana and Will before, they became good friends over time but a tall man standing next to Alana was a stranger to her. ‘’Hello Doctor Y/L/N.’’ the man said, extending his hand, the first thing she noticed was how controlled he was. She shook his big hand, ‘’Hello, I’m sorry have we met before?’’ she had to ask, he smiled but it was a small one. ‘’I’m afraid not. I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter, a psychiatrist who helps your friend Jack Crawford.’’ She nodded, ‘’We’re on the same page then.’’

Together they rode the elevator to the floor where the alive victim being kept, the floor was completely empty, there were two guards at the door. As they entered Jack stood up to greet her, ‘’Thank you so much for coming Y/N.’’ he said, ‘’How could I refuse you Jack.’’ She said as they hugged. Her attention went to the girl laying on the bed, her skin pale as porcelain, her long black hair covering the white pillow like the pit of a dark well. She was sleeping, a weary expression on her pretty face, She had an IV bag on her right, as she observed she had no idea a certain maroon deducing her profoundly. ‘’Here.’’ Jack gave her the reports of the girl. ‘’I want you to be her doctor Y/N.’’

Y/N was shocked, ‘’What do you mean? You asked me to check her vitals and give her doctor my thoughts…’’

Jack seemed uncomfortable, ‘’Y/N, this girl was almost killed and the killer will learn soon enough that he couldn’t finish the job so he’ll most likely come after her.’’ He started explaining, ‘’I want you to be her doctor, when she is recovered physically Hannibal will take over, giving her sessions till she is fully stabilized and free of trauma.’’

Y/N knew Jack just wouldn’t ask her to check up on the patient, ‘’Here I am thinking I have the day off.’’ She rolled up her sleeves, ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll be her doctor and babysitter.’’

Jack knew she would understand, ‘’Thank you, I knew I could trust you. Hannibal also will keep you company just in case if she wakes up we need him to sooth her.’’ With that Y/N turned to face Doctor Lecter, his maroon eyes regarded her deeply, she only nodded. They all left leaving her with Hannibal.

She was reading the file Jack had left, every detail about the killings, the pictures and medical reports were there, ‘’He is active.’’ She found herself saying and then she looked up, ‘’Sorry, I’m just… criminals fascinate me.’’ And then she went back to the reports but Hannibal, turned to her on the arm chair, ‘’How come?’’ he asked casually but he was intrigued. She look up from the papers, ‘’I had criminal psychology lessons when I was studying and.. the way they think, behave, very interesting to study. What are your thoughts on our killer Doctor?’’ she asked, ‘’I am sure you have created a profile by now.’’

With this question Hannibal made his posture more dominant, ‘’Yes, I have.’’ And he began to explain, ‘’The killer has an obsession for beauty in women, he is going after them to cover up what he lacks.’’ It got her attention, ‘’Which is?’’ Hannibal noticed the shimmer in her eyes, ‘’Beauty. I believe he has a deformity, maybe on his face or his body I am not sure yet but once the FBI catches him we’ll have more information. If you want… I can arrange a prison meeting because I will be there frequently to guide the interviews.’’ His offer made her heart beat faster, she had always wanted something like this, ‘’I would love to Doctor, thank you.’’ And then Hannibal asked for her email and phone number which she gladly gave. In the mean time they started to hear beep sounds from the machines, Y/N bolted to her feet to rush, the girl was awake and having an attack, she checked her vitals, they were rising crazy and she pressed the red button to call a nurse, thankfully the nurse rushed in quickly, Y/N listed the injections she needed and the nurse with skill full hands had them ready, Hannibal was watching the scene from the corner, he didn’t want to intrude and let her do her job. She was so calm and determined that Hannibal found himself wanting to get to know her on a more personal level. She was knowledgeable and had a curious mind which was rare to find these days. Once the girl calmed down and her vitals were stable Hannibal watched her thank the nurse, he had never seen something like this before. The nurse smiled and nodded and left them alone.

‘’Miss Y/L/N, would you like to have dinner with me.. at my house?’’ he asked with a calm tone, his hands in his pockets. She smiled warmly, ‘’Sure.’’

Thank you for reading. :)

[heliads]

Hi!! I miss your Derek fics so much so how’s one where you and him are in a casual relationship if yk what I mean when all of a sudden there’s a mishap that causes him to pull away and end up ghosting you because he caught feelings and is terrified of them, you still try to get in contact with him but got tired of it and that’s when Derek comes back basically begging for a chance to fix it🥺

masterlist

Derek Hale knows he’s gone too far because he’s no longer nervous waking up to hear someone else’s heartbeat next to him. Derek stays alone, always; it saves him the trouble of having to think about saving someone other than himself if he ever wakes up to another roaring inferno. Derek is good at being alone. It’s never something he’s struggled with, even as a lone wolf without a pack. He still talks to other people on occasion. It’s fine.

He’d thought it was fine. Derek had almost gotten to the point of convincing himself of it, and then he started making mistakes like entertaining himself with someone else, and by the time it occurred to him that he was long past the point of no return, there was no way he could ever end it. So he lives with it, it’s fine. Until it isn’t.

Derek Hale has never been the type to get caught up over a girl. He did it once, then swore it would never happen again. There is the idea of Derek, the lone wolf; Derek, the man with a heart colder than ice. He wouldn’t go so far as to describe himself as a womanizer, but he’s dated not one but two of the women who’ve tried to kill him and the other wolves in town, so maybe he should start thinking about raising his standards.

He did, though. That was the problem. Of all the people in this world, good and bad and outright bloodthirsty, Derek found the one woman capable of waltzing right past his best defenses and laying claim to the very organ he thought would never be bothered with again. Derek has long since assumed that, so long as it keeps beating on schedule, he’d never think about his heart unless someone was actively ripping it out of his chest, but Y/N changed that. She changed everything.

It was nothing at first. That’s what he promised himself the first time he woke up in an unfamiliar room that definitely wasn’t in his apartment complex. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he picked up on the sound of someone else breathing evenly next to him, but Y/N had woken up not long after him so they’d been able to talk things through. They’d both agreed that it was a one time thing, the result of years of rising tensions against supernaturals in Beacon Hills, and would never happen again.

The second time, Derek was no less taken aback, but a little more disappointed in himself. Usually, when he makes his word, he sticks to it for longer than a month. He’d left before she woke up that time. Didn’t stop him from crawling back, though. He can blame it on the alcohol that doesn’t affect him, the battle rush of adrenaline he’s long since learned to master. Excuses are easy. Falling is easier still.

Derek doesn’t fall, though. He won’t. Even if it kills him. Especially if it kills him. Derek can lock himself up and cut away his heart and distrust his mind until any conceivable feeling dies off from lack of oxygen. It wouldn’t be the first time. Somehow, he doubts it’ll be the last.

This is all well and good, but it doesn’t work as well as it should. Even now, blinking the last of the past night’s sleep from his eyes, Derek sits up slowly in his own bed, and the sight of Y/N there next to him isn’t surprising. Not at all. His internal alarm system stopped going off around her a long time ago. Hell, he gets more uneasy the longer he goes without seeing her instead of the other way around.

A year ago, he would have called that a mistake. Hales survive because they trust only each other. Y/N may be an ally in this eternally war-torn town, but that does not make her someone he can afford to keep around. Still, when he carefully lifts himself out of bed to avoid waking her, when she comes out of the room about half an hour later in one of his shirts, when Derek can’t quite tell where her perfume ends and his cologne begins, he wonders to himself if he hasn’t already crossed that line a very long time ago.

It doesn’t matter. None of this is real. He doesn’t make her breakfast, she doesn’t say goodbye. They just go about their lives as if the past night had never happened at all, as if none of the nights before that, all stretching out in one vast line of pale, bedsheet-white dominoes do not exist between them. You cannot topple what you do not see, and Derek’s eyes are snapped shut tight.

He’s started noticing things, though, against his better judgment. The furrows in Y/N’s brow vanish while she’s asleep, but they appear again when she looks around at her house or his in the morning and remembers something she’ll never tell him. Her shoulders always rise and pinch together right before she leaves without a word. Derek has started making himself scarce whenever she wakes up. It’s better for both of them if there’s no opportunity to stay any longer.

Most of all, Derek takes care to ensure that whatever happens at night does not affect either of them during the day. Y/N’s more closely allied with the McCall pack than whatever dregs are left of Derek’s ill-gotten attempt to seize power with his own batch of betas, but he still sees her often enough on wolf business. Derek has no doubt that Scott has caught on to the fact that they’re seeing each other, but neither of them will bring it up so long as it doesn’t become a problem.

A couple of times, Derek has felt Scott’s eyes on him like an accusation, burning holes into his shoulders whenever Y/N shows up late or seems listless during the discussions. Derek wants to throw up his hands and declare to anyone who cares to listen or blame him that he’s doing his best to make sure he isn’t the cause, but he doubts any of the younger pack members want to know that he’s specifically trimming off any stem of feeling before it takes root. He’s doing his best, at least. Surely that counts for something.

Still, he can feel their judgment like a plague, even outside of passing glimpses. When Scott McCall shows up at Derek’s door to ask for his help with a sudden hunter shootout at the hospital, Derek can still see the awareness in the back of the kid’s eyes. Y/N’s got her own thing going, Derek wants to clarify, she’s long past school-crush days just like him. They’re both adults and they can do what they please. High school sweethearts all die by hunters’ arrows. The ones who survive don’t play by the rules.

Scott will never bring it up, though, so Derek won’t, either. Instead, he just accompanies Scott to the hospital, where he slashes and stabs at anyone who tries to shoot at him. These sorts of things are becoming normal occurrences by now; Melissa McCall and the other doctors are probably sick of it, but what can you do?

Derek’s only half paying attention. He focuses enough to keep himself alive, but it’s easy to go on autopilot. The hunters will always attack, and they will always defend. Some will get hurt. They’ll heal in time to start the game over again. Nothing new.

It should be nothing new. It is, until Derek rounds a corner and he sees one of the hunters shooting at Y/N’s back. She’s distracted taking out someone else. She won’t react in time, Derek knows it, he can feel it in his bones like a bad frost, and Derek– he actually screams, a guttural shout of despair, and he hurls himself at the hunter. The gun goes flying out of the guy’s hands and into a corner of the room, blood spatters following it a second later. It’s alright again. Y/N is fine.

Y/N, actually, is staring at him in confusion. “What was that about?” She asks slowly.

Derek catches a hazy glimpse of himself in the glass panel of a nearby door and realizes that he looks mad. His eyes are wide, startled, glowing; his claws are out and dripping with gore. “He was going to shoot you,” he says, a little unsteadily, “You weren’t paying attention.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I was, Derek. His gun was empty. No more bullets left, I heard the empty barrel click a minute ago.”

Derek stares at her uncomprehendingly, and Y/N has to cross the room, pick up the fallen hunter’s weapon, and pull the trigger several times until Derek understands. She was right, no ammunition was shot. It was a complete misfire on his end, and something that he should have picked up on far before he decided to strike. If Y/N could hear that the gun was empty from across the room, Derek should have known it from where he stood.

He knows what this means, then. It means he’s making mistakes, and mistakes get you killed. They get everyone killed. Derek hasn’t made a mistake like this in a long time, because he never let anyone in, but he has now, hasn’t he? He’s known it for a long time. Y/N means far more to him than a prolonged one night stand. He has feelings for her, of a depth he couldn’t decipher if given a thousand years trapped inside his own head. Derek Hale has fallen in love, but this love will destroy him. It will make him weak.

And, fuck, Derek knows how this is going to end. How it always ends. He is a fire, consuming everything in his path; burning down his family home; choking the last breath from the lungs of anyone foolish enough to love him. If Y/N realizes that he loves her, if she does something so terrible as to love him back, she will fall before the year is out. They always do, and it will be his fault again, his fault like it was for all the others.

He moves before he knows what he’s doing. Y/N is calling after him, he thinks, but Derek is already rounding the corner and out of the hallway. Hunters in his path are killed by a wolf that might be Derek, if Derek was aware enough of what he was doing to act on anything more than animal instinct. Instead, he just keeps going like a bloodsoaked robot until Scott tells him it’s over, and then he leaves. He does not check in with the rest of the pack. He does not check in with Y/N.

In fact, he does not speak with her again. She tries texting him afterwards to see if he’s alright, and then even shows up at his door when he’s unresponsive for days, but Derek just waits silently in the confines of his apartment until she goes away. She can probably hear his heartbeat, but it doesn’t matter. This will benefit both of them. Neither Derek nor Y/N can afford an attachment like this. He’s already started slipping up in the heat of battle. Who knows what sort of deadly error he will commit next?

If he thought the McCall pack’s judgment was bad enough before, they’re downright diabolical now. He can’t speak to them without being on the receiving end of a thousand hateful stares. Every time he so much as crosses their path, you’d think he murdered their entire family. It’s unreal. Don’t they know he’s doing this for the best? 

It’s not like Derek enjoys this, anyway. It’s unnatural. He’s started waking up at odd hours of the night, reaching out for someone who isn’t there. Derek rises with the sun and stares at the empty other half of the bed. He starts to get up quietly and then remembers that there’s no one around who’s still sleeping, so he can be as loud as he pleases. It feels wrong when the floor creaks.

He’s started creeping closer to the door whenever Y/N stops by. He hovers right by the threshold, listening; he can tell by the inflections of her voice that she’s starting to give up hope, and then she stops coming. When a week goes by without a single word from her, Derek thinks that he should be pleased because he’s finally saved her from himself, but instead, all he feels is alone.

It’s not a good feeling, this. Derek thought he would be able to shake off any and all feelings for her in a matter of weeks, but even a month later, he’s still in a terrible state. Lydia starts taking pity on him, he thinks, and actually treats him like a normal human being again, which kind of makes it all worse. He doesn’t want her compassion. He wants–

He wants Y/N. Waking up alone again, hands curling into fists around empty sheets, Derek realizes the earth-shattering truth as if from a dream. He wants her. He wants her more than anything. If this is safety, Derek doesn’t want it. He hates not knowing if she’s alright. He hates thinking that he might have hurt her. If this is the cost of keeping them both alive, Derek would rather be dead.

He throws on his clothes, headed towards the door in a flash. He wakes up early, always has; if he can just get over to her place before she leaves to go to work, maybe it would be okay– maybe she would still want him– maybe he would be enough, now that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she is for him–

Y/N doesn’t open her door at first, which is, admittedly, justified. Derek’s cheeks flush with shame remembering all the times he’d pointedly ignored her visits. However, she’s better than him, always has been, and opens the door eventually. He looks at her, breathes out at last, and says– “I miss you.”

Y/N arches a brow. “You do?”

“I do,” Derek repeats, “And I’ve been– stupid, really, and I shouldn’t have been. I know better than that.”

Y/N folds her arms across her chest. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized I love you,” Derek says. It’s only five words, but it makes Y/N sway as if she’s been shot.

“You’re just saying that,” she whispers faintly.

Derek shakes her head. “I’m not the type to throw those words around. You know that. You know me better than anyone, Y/N. Tell me if I’m lying.”

He waits. She stares at him, but at last she nods slowly, and says, “You love me?”

“I love you,” he affirms. Then: “Can I come in?”

A ghost of a smile haunts her lips. “Always so forward, aren’t you?”

He laughs a little, actually. It surprises both of them, Derek the most. “I thought you liked that about me.”

“I do,” she admits, and steps aside to let him pass. Derek lingers by her side, he can’t help it. Moments like these were meant to be treasured. He may have messed up too many of them to count, but for once, Derek can start again. He intends to make the most of it.

teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[dumpywrites]

Osculate - Jung Hoseok / J-Hope

Prompt: You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, producer! Hobi, slight drama, slow burn(?), mentions of cheating ex

Pairing: Hoseok x she/her reader

a/n: Welcome back Hobi <3 this is my first time writing about him! Also this turns to be longer than expected but we love the drama hehe

The gentle touch. 

The soft feel of a pair of lips touching yours for a brief moment. 

You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?

The thoughts were going on circles in your head. 

The first thing you realized when you woke up was a pang of headache. Of course, you were supposed to listen to your friends. Maybe drinking gin straight from the bottle wasn’t such a good idea. Of course it was not, but your ex was in the function.

The worse part was that he couldn’t even be considered as an ex. It had been a little over six months since the whole drama with Jaehyun. You went through somewhat of a situationship with him. Honestly, you liked the guy, couldn’t exactly say you had strong feelings for him, but you both agreed to enjoy the flow and get to know each other at a slow pace. For two months you both did all things couples do without any label, but it was not the main problem cause you had a conversation before about it… right? WRONG. He had a girlfriend the whole time. What a joke. 

Truth to be told, you were not that upset to see his face there. To you, even though he had basically ruined your perspective of men forever, it was all in the past. You couldn’t forgive him but there was nothing you could really do, life was just like that sometimes. What disheartened you was your friends inviting him in the first place. 

You had only ever told the whole story to two of them, that being Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon was the one who you called the first second you found out, and Jungkook the next day since you knew Jaehyun from him after all. You hoped that telling him would at least make him consider their friendship and to not trust him anymore, but you continued to see him occasionally in the photos of their stories.

Maybe Namjoon and Jungkook never told the others about it, it wasn’t their fault that Taehyung didn’t know and decided to invite him to his birthday party. Who knows, who cares. You were on your sixth shot of the night and you were feeling emotional. Fuck your friends for being insensitive really. 

Soon after the shots turned into drinking directly from the bottle, the memories were quick to fade away in a blur. 

“How did I even get here…” You mumbled to yourself. You still had the mini dress from last night on, but you were wearing your hoodie on top of it. You wondered if this happened because the person who helped you knew where you kept your hoodies. Coming from the party, the only people who could possibly knew that information were probably Namjoon, but that man couldn’t drive to safe his life. Was it Jin? After all he also had been to your place a few times before to play some video games, at least he knew where your bedroom was. 

The noise coming from your kitchen did sound suspicious though. 

“Hoseok?!”

You were very surprised to find him, considering he had never been to your place before and you couldn’t remember any major interaction with him the night before. 

“Finally!” His smile almost blinded you. “You alright? Sorry I had to use your kitchen, but I made us some pancakes.”

“I’m fine, thank you… I uh… what happened?” You said, sitting down on your dining table. 

“You got super drunk last night, long story short I got you here. Namjoon helped but he had to leave. We were worried to leave you alone, so that's why I'm here. Thank God you got your keys on a carabiner on your belt, or else we wouldn’t be here.”

“Gosh, what happened in between?”

“Nothing much, you were just dancing around, spilled drink on Taehyung and his girlfriend, not sure it was an accident though, and unfortunately you couldn’t make it to the ladies restroom so you puked right in front of the door.”

“Shit…” You facepalmed. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“Come on, I’ve seen you drunk before it’s fine.” He said while placing the pancakes on two different plates. 

“But it wasn’t like this.” You shook your head. 

“It’s fine.” He smiled, somehow the look in his eyes softened. “After what happened with Jaehyun, honestly… I get it.” 

“Oh.” You looked down to your lap. “Did Namjoon tell you?” 

He paused, finally taking a seat next to you on your small dining table. “You kinda told me last night…”

“Of course I did.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Sorry for trauma dumping, I guess.” 

“You don’t remember anything?!” 

“I don’t remember anything after I finished that bottle of Bombay Sapphire.” You shrugged, bitting your inner cheek. 

“That’s… unfortunate.” He flashed a disappointed grin. “Although I must say, I’ve always secretly disliked that guy for no reason, glad to finally have one.” He sneered. 

You looked at him amusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me before?!”

“Dunno, I just feel like I don’t have anything to backup my opinion and I saw how you looked at him. I just knew you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Fair.” You said with a spoonful of pancake in your mouth. 

“Hey, I’ve told you this yesterday but I’m gonna repeat myself again since you don’t remember anything,” He smiled, moving his body to face your direction. “It’s not your fault. He did that because he’s a bad person and that has nothing to do with your quality as a human being.”

You sighed. “Seems like I done told you my insecurities as well.” You threw a sad smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“If you ever need validation again, come to me. But I’ll be charging you next time.” He grinned and proudly opened his arms. 

You laughed. “The pancake’s lowkey fire though, I must say. I’ll treat you a meal next time.”

You ended up ordering some Chinese food while watching old Harry Potter movies in the background. Somehow the conversation just kept going and you didn’t know before that hanging with Hoseok was this much of fun. You even let him borrow an oversized T-shirt of yours before going home, since you felt bad that he was still with what he wore yesterday. 

You had fun and the question of a faint memory soon left your mind. Why bother? It was probably just a stranger that you would rather not know about. 

From later getting the meal you promised him, the friendship only continued to blossom more from there. 

**

It was a random day after work when you decided to join Yoongi and Namjoon in their studio. Hoseok was supposed to join later after visiting his parents. The cool thing about having producer friends was that you could basically get free early listen to various singers’ songs. And their studio being very cozy and spacious was also a plus point. The company they worked for was also quite chill about visitors. 

“Jimin just texted me, he said he wants to join just for the preview of the song I’m writing for Megan Thee Stallion.” Namjoon said after reading his text. 

“Isn’t his dance class not done until eight or something?” You asked. 

“He recently switched to morning shift, I heard. Something about being too old to teach in that hour.” Yoongi chuckled. 

“He always say that, but I just know he’s gonna be the healthiest when we are old, cause all of us have jobs that requires multiple hours of sitting down. Unlike him.” You said. 

“Ain’t that right.” Yoongi groaned, suddenly fixing his posture. “By the way, where’s Hobi?” 

“Didn’t he tell you? He’s visiting his parents so he’ll be a little late.” You replied. 

“Just found out about that now.” Namjoon replied, suddenly eyeing Yoongi suspiciously. 

“Well, he’ll probably just be an hour late so don’t worry.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot, I see.” Namjoon said. “Even heard you calling him Hobi now too.”

“All thanks to that drunk accident, I found out over trauma dumping that I actually like hanging out with him.” You shrugged.

“Geez, don’t remind me. It was so hard to convince you to come home that day.” Joon complained. 

“Wait, speaking of that day…”

You had heard the story about when you got drunk and what happened in between. But none of their stories ever mentioned about you kissing someone, which was ironic considering that was actually the only part that you faintly remembered about that night. You were sure you were not dreaming, fantasizing even. You knew it was real. You just needed to know with whom it happened, if any chance your friend witnessed the scene. 

“Did you guys see me kissing anyone that night?” You looked at the guys back and forth. 

“You kissed someone?!” Namjoon gaped. “This is another news to me.”

“I didn’t even see you half of the party cause you were mostly at the dance floor and I never even left the table.” Yoongi said. 

You sighed. “I guess it’s probably just some stranger then. I just hope it’s not Jaehyun, because hell no.” You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

“Can’t be him, he was also mostly at our table. Only left after you spilled drink all over Tae and his girl. We got you home right after that.” Namjoon explained. 

“I need to thank you for that, cause heaven knows that fucker wouldn’t stop talking about his new job and how much pay he gets now. Like dude, shut up.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know if Joon or Jungkook ever told you but… something horrible happened between me and Jaehyun.” You looked at Yoongi. 

“I never told them, neither did Jungkook. We thought it wasn’t our place to say so. Looking back at what happened though, we should’ve said something. I’m sorry.” The taller guy said, looking at you with concern in his eyes. 

“It’s fine, I totally get it.” You assured Namjoon. “Me and Jaehyun used to have this situationship thing going on, until I found out that he has a girlfriend.” You said to Yoongi. 

“He has a girlfriend?!” Yoongi asked with widened eyes. You knew it was serious when he started to show a big reaction. 

“Yeah, I don’t think he intends to tell you guys about it too, to maintain his image and all.” 

“That shithead told us he only has two exes and barely go on dates.” Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Why are we still friends with him??? This is fucked up!”

“Jungkook didn’t know the whole story, it’s my fault.” Namjoon spoke again. 

“Guys, it’s fine… I don’t expect you to stop hanging out with someone just because they wronged me.” 

“Uh, you should???” Yoongi protested. “You are our friend too.” 

Your heart softened at the reaction. “I don’t want you guys to fight though…”

“We could just stop inviting him to our hangout.” Yoongi shrugged. 

“We need to tell the others about this, are you sure you’re okay with that?” Namjoon asked, his right hand patting your shoulder. 

“I guess it’s about time.” You sighed. “Just please promise me you’ll hold Jin down in case he wants to throw hands.” You folded your arms, holding back a smile. 

Namjoon laughed. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Just seconds later, you heard the door cracked open. 

“You guys are gossiping without me???” 

Hobi spoke as he entered the studio. He was wearing a jacket, which he took off right upon entering the room, revealing his black T-shirt that now seemed to be slowly transforming into a compression tee with him going to the gym lately. 

“Does he know?” Yoongi asked. 

You nodded. 

“What? What are you talking abou— Oh… don’t tell me it’s about that loser…”

Yoongi’s lips popped a “yup” while Namjoon just sighed. 

“We can finally agree that we should never invite him ever again now, right?” Hoseok said as he took his designated chair. 

“One hundred percent.” Namjoon said, nodding. “By the way, have you asked Hobi if he saw?” The guy pointed at Hoseok while looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your eyebrows raised. “Actually no, I haven’t. Hobi, did you see me kiss anyone at the party?”

Suddenly, the said guy choked on nothing. He quickly fixed his tinted sunglasses, only to then awkwardly take them off, putting them on the table next to his keyboard. 

“I’m sorry, what?!” Hoseok straightened his posture. 

“I’m sure it’s not that much of a surprise, you’re overreacting.” You chuckled. 

“I don’t know… maybe? Who knows. Do you even remember where it happened?” 

You looked at the guy with slight skepticism. “I don’t know. I can’t even remember the face. I remember the feeling??? If that’s not TMI.” You faked a cartoonish shiver. 

“Did you not… like it?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You tilted your head slightly, pondering. “I remember feeling really soft lips, and I actually don’t remember disliking it in any way. But I don’t even know if I was the one who initiated the kiss.” 

“I see.” The guy turned away to face his computer screen. “At least you liked it.” 

“I guess so.” You shrugged. 

Jimin later joined as promised. Both of you quietly listened as the three producers continued on their work. You went out for dinner afterwards and Hobi offered to drive you home, since you used public transport.

There was a bit of oddity in his action’s that night towards you but you couldn’t put a finger on what. He just seemed a like he was holding back something and you didn’t know why. 

You also wondered since when did you start to notice how attractive Hoseok was. Had he always been this way? You were sure he did not change that much from the first day you got to know him. Because lately, he had been glowing, his smile looked extra bright, and the hair looked extra fluffy. 

Sure his fashion taste had developed over the years but he still looked pretty much the same. Maybe you were just dumb not to realize it sooner. Or maybe it’s the new workout routine. Yes, it must be that.

**

You found yourself hanging out yet again at the three’s studio. This time with only Hoseok, since he got something he needed to revise. You were nearby and decided to drop by with some pizzas, knowing how often these guys forgot to eat while working. After texting the group chat, you found out Hobi was the only one there, but the pizza had been bought anyway so you wouldn’t want it to go to waste. 

“Man, remember when you used to be such a fanboy for J.cole? Can’t believe you’re producing for him now. I’m so proud of you, man.” You took a bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in your hand. 

“I know right? I can’t believe he randomly came across my SoundCloud archive.” He grinned happily. 

“You should try, you know… being an artist? You even dance well. Jimin’s words not mine.” 

“Nah, I don’t think I can handle the fame.” He shooed. “Besides, I don’t think I look good enough to be an idol.” He laughed. 

“Are you kidding me?!”

That sounded way too loud from what you intended. 

“Why? You actually think I look handsome or something???” He said with a judgy expression, almost as if he couldn’t believe you. 

“Hasn’t anyone actually told you that?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so— why though???” He seemed truly curious. His eyes visibly widened and he scoffed closer with his chair. 

“Don’t fucking ask why!” You retrieved, actually moving away slightly on the couch. “It just crossed my mind, okay?”

He chuckled. “Are you actually being shy right now?” 

“No, I’m not!” You widened your eyes in horror when he got up from his seat, seemingly moving to sit next to you. 

“It’s fine, I get that you don’t actually wanna admit that I’m hot.” He smirked. 

“Aren’t you the same person who literally seconds ago said that he isn’t good looking enough???” You rolled your eyes. 

He took a slice and munched a big bite. He shrugged at you with a downturned smirk. 

“Forget I ever said that.” You scoffed. 

“You too.” He said after swallowing the food. “I think you’re attractive as well.”

You paused. The atmosphere had now suddenly turned thick. Your lips went tiny bit ajar, starring at him with an unbelievable look. 

“It hasn’t changed since the first time I met you. I’ve always thought you’re attractive.”

“Do not say stuff like that.” You looked away, feeling your body burning up, stomach roamed with butterflies. “You’re making me feel weird.” 

You didn’t know what you did but something changed in his eyes after you said that. His face was now only inches away from you. You didn’t think you had seen him looking this serious before ever in the whole time knowing him. 

It felt too weird, so weird that the back of your mind was quietly suggesting to claim his lips. The idea sounded odd but somehow not unheard at the same time. Should you be weirded out that you were thinking of kissing your friend or should you be weirded out by the fact that the thought of kissing him didn’t sound that preposterous to you? Your silly little brain could only handle so much. 

The sound of door knob turning saved you, or maybe not. Both of you instantly jolted and faced the direction of the entrance. 

“Am I interrupting?” Namjoon peeked. 

“N-No.” You awkwardly scooted away from Hoseok. “I thought you won’t be coming?”

“I left my hard drive.” The tall guy said as he moved towards his desk and grabbing the said item. 

“I see… Uh, do you want pizza? We still have some.”  

“Nah, just had dinner at home. You guys have fun though!” He gave a thumb up before exiting through the door. 

“Yeah, that’s weird.” Hoseok said, putting down his unfinished slice of pizza that he still had in his hand the whole time. “I’m sorry.” He giggled awkwardly. 

“I know right?” You laughed as well, but it sounded so fake that you internally gagged. 

That night the thought of his eyes looking at yours sent electricity down your spine. The butterflies in your belly kept you awake. 

**

After that, the mystery kiss never really crossed your mind again. At the end of the day, you were just glad it was not he who shall not be named. 

Just when your mental state was heading towards a better direction, your luck decided that you had to bump into the said guy, Voldemort himself, Jaehyun. God forbid a woman just wanted to grab herself some snack at a nearby convince store. Of course his new job was near your home, because why wouldn’t it be. The universe just loved to toy with you like that. 

“Y/N? Here let me get that for you…”

“No, thank you.” You forced a smile and shook your head at the cashier, signaling the lady to take your card. 

“It’s fine, they’re just biscuits anyway.”

“And I can pay them myself.” You said and quickly stormed away, hoping you would be left alone. 

“Wait!” He called, but you continued to walk out the store, unbothered. 

You squirmed in disgust when you felt his hand stopping you by your wrist. You stopped but shook his hand off immediately. “What?”

“Can we talk? I’ll be quick I promise.” He said, sounding almost begging. 

“No, there’s literally nothing in this world that can excuse what you did to me so I don’t want any further explanation.” 

“I… I feel so guilty. The past few months I’ve been so grossed out about myself…” He spoke out anyway. He looked at you with a pathetic expression. 

“You did something bad so of course you were supposed to feel awful about it. What part of this is my problem?” 

“I think you deserve a proper apology. So… I’m sorry.” 

“Are you still dating that girl?” You asked sternly. 

“No, we broke up due to distance.”

“Good. That innocent woman doesn’t deserve a lying and cheating fucker like you.” You folded your arms. “Is that it?! I would like to leave now.”

“Are you with Hoseok now?”

“What do you mean??? Are you out of your mind?! What made you thi—”

“I saw both of you kissing at Taehyung’s party.”

A few circuits in your brain just snapped because what in the fresh hell was that. All this time, the mystery man was Hoseok all along??? But he never once told you anything about it, even after you mentioned it. Is it embarrassing for him? Did he regret it? And worse, did you force yourself on him??? There were so many questions pilling up in your head. 

Seeing your zero response, he spoke again. “So, you’re not dating him then?”

“It’s literally none of your business.” You simply said before moving your feet to leave him in a flash. 

You were walking, running maybe? You couldn’t even think straight. You had not even reached your apartment complex yet, but you already took your phone out, calling Hoseok without giving it a second thought. 

“What’s up?” You heard the man picking up the call. “You don’t usually call…”

“I kissed you.”

The line went silent for some good second, before you heard him clearing his throat. “You finally remember?”

“Why didn’t you tell me???” You raised your voice. “I even asked you before!”

“It’s a lot more complicated than what you think.” He sighed. “And correction, we kissed. I kissed you back so you weren’t the only one doing the kissing here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. 

“Are you home? Can I come over?” You heard him sighing again. 

“Uh, yeah I am.” You bit your lips, feeling extremely nervous all of the sudden. “Sure, I guess…”

“Okay.” Was all he said before hanging up the call. 

You were now pacing back and forth at your apartment lobby. The security was already giving you funny looks and so did some of the passerby. You couldn’t care less though, because truthfully, your mind was filled with endless possibilities of what happened and how it happened. Deep down you were glad it was him, but the real question was did he feel the same?

By the time Hoseok arrived you were already sitting on the lobby sofa, clasping your hands together out of cold. The aircon and night air were not such a big help with your nervous sweaty palms. Not to mentioned Hobi in his casual clothes… you might be biased but still!

The walk to the lift and to your room was silent. You wanted so badly to make a small talk, but you couldn’t make yourself to open your lips. And the man who you knew as one of the most cheerful person out there, was dead silent as well, which was killing you. 

“Do you want to drink something?” You finally said after a few minutes of unwieldy silence between the two of you. 

“N-No need!” He shook his head. Did he just stutter?

“Okay.” You took a seat on your couch, in which he followed shortly. 

He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “At first I saw you crying silently near the toilet. You just left after the whole drink-spill accident and clearly were not walking straight. I was worried so I followed you there. By the time I reached you, you had already puked…”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed at the thought of him seeing you puke. 

“It’s alright. Fortunately, you didn’t dirty your clothes from it.” He smiled. “I helped you walk out from the club, and that was when you started telling me everything. I feel so bad that I couldn’t do anything about it other than listening to your cries. But a few minutes later, Jaehyun showed up.”

Your eyes widened. “What did he do?”

“Apparently he was looking to talk with you privately but never got the chance.”

“And what happened?”

“I told him to scram.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not punching him in the face that day. How dare he appear right in front of me just minutes after I found out how much of an ass he is?!!” He said in disbelief. “But he refused to leave.”

“Oh…” You began to see where this was going. 

“He was saying a bunch of nonsense I couldn’t even recall, and just out of the blue, you grabbed me by the collar and just… kissed me.”

You blushed upon hearing the words coming out from Hoseok’s mouth. 

There seemed to be a light shade of pink on his cheeks. “I was so taken aback I didn’t know what to do. I mean… I couldn’t believe the girl I’ve been secretly crushing on just kissed me!”

Wait, what?

**FLASHBACK**

“I just want to talk to her!!!” Jaehyun insists. 

“She’s too drunk right now, so fuck off.” Hoseok spat out. 

“Then I’ll take her home.”

“Over my dead body.” 

And that was when you suddenly pulled him for a kiss. It all happened so quick, that even Jaehyun was also at loss for words, but Hoseok kissed you back, eagerly. That of course made Jaehyun even more uncomfortable, enough to make him finally leave the scene. 

The two of you didn’t stop kissing though. Not for a while. Despite being the sober one, Hoseok lost track of time by the touch of your lips. For a moment it was just you, and your friend, making out in front of a club entrance. The club was at the fifth floor of a building, so you were just kissing each other intensely, next to the elevator, against the glass window, like a couple of hormonal teenagers hungry for each other.

Anyone could see you, in fact, one of your friends might caught you on the act, but that did not stop Hoseok. What stopped him was the thought of you being heavily intoxicated. He did not want to take advantage of you, and clearly did not want you to think about him that way in any shape or form. And so he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry… that shouldn’t have happened.”

Your eyes looked glistening, cheeks red, and your lips were swollen. It took Hoseok almost everything in him to not just grab you and go back to kissing you like crazy. 

You looked up, staring at him with droppy eyes and started tearing up again. You just looked so helpless in his eyes. He was so desperate to ease your pain, but he had no idea how, or even if he were allowed to in the first place. 

“Hey, it’s not your fault… you know.” He sighed and took your right hand, intertwining it with his. “He’s a horrible person and that has nothing to do with you. You’re wonderful. You’re one of the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

You only continued to sob, so he pulled you in and hugged you softly. He let you cry for a while before Namjoon and Jimin found both of you outside. They decided it was best if he took her home so Namjoon told him your address and followed Hoseok to his car. 

It was quite the struggle, supporting you and helping you walk to your apartment unit. By this time you were passed out already, so Namjoon offered to carry you, in which Hoseok volunteered in instant. 

Thankfully, your keys were attached to your belt, dangling by a hook carabiner you always liked to use, so it wasn’t hard opening the door. Namjoon opened the door and Hoseok laid you down on the sofa. He took off your shoes carefully before setting them aside. It didn’t seem right to just leave you like that so both of them thought it would be best if someone stayed. 

Long story short, Hoseok carried you to your bedroom. Saw your hoodie laying around and decided to put it on you and leave you in your room. The tiredness then caught up to him, so he crashed out on your couch. 

**

“And that’s all!” The man smiled at you. 

“Hobi, I…” You were speechless. “Thank you… first of all.”

“Don’t mention it. I was happy to help.”

“I didn’t know you have a crush on me…” You said while awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

“At this point I don’t think it’s still a crush anymore…” He breathed out. “I like you, like a lot now.” He grinned happily.

You were once again too stunned to speak. 

“Well, now that it’s out of the bag, I hope it won’t make things weird between us…” He scratched the back of his head. 

“Jung Hoseok, I literally like you too.” You finally said, making you flushed so red that it reached your ears. 

“You do??? Forreal???” He grabbed both of your hands. 

“Yes, for real.” You giggled, still blushing. “Should we kiss again to seal the deal?” 

“Say no more!”

He stood up, which made you raised your eyebrow at him. But a yelp soon escaped your mouth when he suddenly lift you up, twirling you around before kissing you on your lips passionately. You smiled through it, kissing him back with equal devotion. His lips felt so familiar, but not because you had kissed him before. In fact, you barely remembered how it happened. It was because his touch made you felt secured, so safe, like you were finally at home. 

Thank you for reading! 🪩

[coffeegnomee]

Bacon saying "yes. [I watched] the entire thing" about having seen Kab's new video "I watched it for entertainment purposes, but I also think I took some things from it as well"

KAB: "fair enough, I put things in there knowing people would watch it and take things from it"

she brings up how Clown never offered her a team, and that she is close to getting his full trust. Which I think is a lie rooted in the truth that she was so "my son could never hurt a fly he's just misunderstood" in the video to get Clown to trust her more irl/in lifesteal. Like how he trusts Branzy and Ferre.

(even though it is SO WEIRD for her to have been like that about Clown in the video. Like it was an exposé about how right the Mice were to be cautious about her affiliation and assume she was telling him things. She was. Maybe not base coords, but she just leaked that she absolutely told him things about them and that she was not for the team at all. And she left that all in. why? WHY Kab? I can only assume it was to endear her to Clown more? That's the only thing that makes sense? Unless she did it to "prove" to the Mice that they were wrong to assume she was teamed with Clown, "see I was just telling him to be careful and you guys were making him into a villain" or smth. I genuinely don't know. I don't understand her at all.)

But she's bringing it up to Bacon and downplaying it so that he thinks she isn't as close to Clown as she is. She's trying to manipulate him here I think.

then Bacon brings up the google doc of Mapicc's personality, which apparently Mapicc dmed her about (which is hilarious for the record)

To which she says it wasn't real [the doc itself], she made it for the video. She only articulated Mapicc's personality and Mapicc's alone.. which obviously means it was him very much on purpose. So did she do it to stoke Mapicc's ego? Or to see what he would say about it and confirm or deny if she was right? I can so easily imagine her writing it up being like, now Mapicc will think I understand him but this is not really what I think about him and he will be easier to manipulate.

But the analysis, like I wrote about, was right for the wrong reasons, AND YET I saw how they were rooted in very plausible assumptions she would have made bc of talking to Ash.

So I struggle to see how that writeup wasn't what she genuinely thought. This whole video just feels like exactly what she genuinely thought throughout the whole first week.

And it's completely rooted in the concept that she knows what she's talking about, even though her only evidence is that she can read Clown. (the only other moment being that she was right the empire would betray them in the End. Which was the softest of softball throws. It was an allyship against the other team. Obv the beef starts up the second that is over.) Like congrats. You've known Clown for two years very closely. It would be weird if you didn't. And on THAT note,

She called Woogie a dipshit for having his own opinions about Clown based on his interactions with him for the past FIVE whole seasons. THREE YEARS.

She took his words as saying that you shouldn't trust Clown instead of what he was really trying to say, which was we as a team should not trust Clown. Kab knows Clown won't kill her but she just fails to understand that other people have their own valid experiences of the members. She's just so focused on her singular view of people and how they will interact with her that she completely misses the opportunity to learn what other people think of other people without it being an attack on her own opinion.

I know I get on here and analyze everyone to death. I know that that's how I love to watch and enjoy lifesteal. And that not everyone observes the lifestealers like bugs to be pinned down and dissected. Watching vods is a listening-only experience. I cannot talk or add to the convo, right?

But it still boggles my mind that she doesn't see the manipulative value in silently listening to every word that comes out of someone's mouth in order to learn what they think about others. And let that tell you what to think about others.

If she just listened to what people said, especially what they say about people she doesn't understand, she would learn SO much.

Like she completely called Woogie an idiot for wanting to ally with the Empire for the purpose of killing Clown Mane and Flame.

And she said it because she doesn't understand how Mapicc and Spoke think.

And because she doesn't understand them, she thinks Woogie doesn't understand them.

Like I know Woogie isn't always the most active and integrated member, and he's also an unreliable narrator and has assumptions rooted in a subjective path just like she does.

But Woogie AND Mapicc AND Spoke have all been playing on this server since Season ONE. You would think that that would be an excellent learning opportunity to ask Woogie how he views Mapicc and Spoke.

And then from there, sure! Take it with a grain of salt. Take your personal experiences with them as the most important opinion to value for your own safety (bc nobody can tell you what your gut says) but then also take their opinion and use it against them if you want to be such a great manipulator. Or at the very least catalogue their opinion away for further study at a future time.

It's just. She just has her assumptions about herself towards every member and completely and totally discounts what anyone has to say about their assumptions of themselves with other members. And she gets so damn triggered by people saying they have more experience than her, thinking it's a personal attack on her intelligence. Where that comes from I cannot know but that sounds incredibly deeply rooted.

So back to the Bacon conversation.

She said she knew people would watch it and said stuff on purpose.

And yet she completely left in the whole scene about lying to Woogie about being sorry for discounting his opinion. “Sometimes you need to be sopping wet for people to trust you chat”

Everyone on lifesteal is going to watch this video. WOOGIE might watch this video (though I have a feeling he won't tbh) and you're just leaving in that when you apologize you are never sincere about it and are 100% using that to manipulate them later.

INSANE to leave that in. You leave that in the drawing board. You keep that shit hidden. ESPECIALLY if you know your enemies will watch it. Girl was the most open book ever.

And then to end the video saying I'm a liar and manipulator bitch I know what I'm talking about. Insane. You are just BROADCASTING that you should never be trusted ever. (for the second video in a row!)

Also in a video about you desperately trying to prove that you should be trusted. It's two different kinds of trust, funny that we use the same word for both.

Trusted in that you tell the truth vs trusted that you know what you're talking about.

I am so interested to know what Bacon thought of that. What will he think if she does apologize now? He's not dumb. He saw the video.

She just thinks she's playing 4D chess. And yet 4D chess would be being silent and listening to what everyone says. Like how Spokes does. and Clown. No talking, just silently listening in vc's and coming to conclusions about the members.

And Bacon too. He's been asking people so many questions about what they're doing and why and then just listening to what they have to say, and then forming his own conclusion about it and going off to try something. He's becoming great at listening and thinking and this whole little arc was founded on using that information to do something interesting on the server.

Though I suppose he wasn't always that good at it. And therefore the final conclusion you can take is the same every time: Kab needs experience in order to gain experience. And it will be a long and painful process.

[hami-gua]

生生世世

Love between an immortal and mortal is forbidden by the heavenly law. By loving a mortal, the immortal pays a price. Dan Heng, rather, his past incarnations are no exceptions to this law.

This work contains both English and Chinese (translation provided). Apologies in advance if the Chinese dialogues aren't great. Something may be incorrect or inaccurate, all for the sake of the plot.

Reader has a given nickname and last name but not first name.

[This work is also on AO3 and more polished there, as it is in chapter format.]

Dan Heng x f! Reader

A man approaches the altar that held a glowing stone. Confused, he turned to another man beside him.

“What is this?”

“This is a stone that held your memories from your previous two lives.”

“And why do you insist that I use it?”

“I believe it’s time you find out yourself, Dan Heng.”

The man, Dan Heng, looked at his “partner” with an eyebrow raised. Trusting him, Dan Heng reaches out to the stone and picks it up. After a few seconds, he begins to feel an oncoming headache and steadies himself on the altar. Yet the effort is deemed futile as he soon blacks out.

The first time he met her in this life, was when he assumed a name, Yubie. She had been selling flowers, calling out to any and all souls that happened to pass by. A certain flower had caught Yubie’s attention. Being a minor god living in the moon palace, he had never seen such a flower before. And before he knew it, he had picked up the flower and began to inspect it.

“先生，您看上了这朵花了吗？“ [Sir, is this the flower you choose?]

Yubie, a tad embarrassed and shy, merely nodded. The girl only smiled back gently, the gentle dulled pinks and purples of her robe brushed against the cart as she reached for others of the same kind, bundling them and checking the pot they were held in.

“先生若有什么需求，可以叫我一声！“ [If sir has any needs, you only need to call me!]

“嗯，知道了。谢谢，姑娘。” [En. Understood. Thank you, young girl.]

“哎呀，应该的！” [Aiya, it’s what I should do!]

Yubie blushed as his eyes grazed through the other different flowers. His eyes lands on a peony, leading him to think about Jing Yuan. The general hardly ever visits the moon palace anymore, but when he does, it’s always a pleasant surprise. He’s due to visit soon, but Yubie couldn’t think of a gift to give. Picking up the flower, Yubie calls for the flower girl.

“就这两个，谢谢。“ [Just these two, thanks.] Yubie cleared his throat awkwardly, handing the two flowers to the girl.

“一颗银子。“ [One piece of silver.]

Yubie’s eyebrows raised in surprise, having not expected the price.

“一颗？为何要怎么少？“ [A piece? Why do you ask for that less?]

The girl replied back without even a thought, “因为不管有多少钱，想要有花就可以有花。再说了，卖花只是我的爱好。“ [Because it doesn’t matter how much money you have, if a flower is what you want, then you get a flower. Besides, selling flowers is just a hobby I have.]

“爱好？“ [Hobby?]

“嗯！“ [Yeah!]

“什么是爱好？“ [What’s a hobby?]

The girl’s jaws drop open. Never had she ever heard of someone not knowing what a hobby is.

“爱好就是喜欢做什么就做。比如，有些人喜欢看书，唱歌等。您呢？“ [A hobby is something you like to do. Like, some people like reading, others singing and so on. You?]

“我。。。我没有，“ [I… I don’t have one.] Yubie trailed off, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“啊？！真假的？像您这样的人，没有爱好还挺乖的嘞！“ [Ah?! Really? Those like you not having a hobby is quite odd!]

“像我这样的人？“ [Those like me?]

“嗯！就是有钱的人。“ [Yeah! Like wealthy.]

“哦。。。“ [Oh…]

Learning of selling flowers as a hobby, he debated whether or not to ask about her true line of work. Deciding to just go for it, Yubie asks, “请问姑娘，您。。。是做什么的？“ [Young girl, what… do you do for a living?]

The girl looks at him for a split second before pulling out a find pressed silk threads that forms the shape of a flower. Orange blossoms to be exact.

“我是做各种各样的簪子。不过随着有些人的需求，其它头饰也可以。“ [I make all kinds of hair sticks. Though, through some customer’s needs, I can also make other head accessories.]

Yubie observes the hair stick, eyes glimmering at how well made it is. But their conversations is cut short when the distant bell tower chimes, signaling the time. The girl looks up and takes a note of the sun’s position with a gasp.

“抱歉先生，看来我该回家了,” [Sorry sir, it seems like I have to go home.] The girl quickly said as she rushes to pack everything up. Yubie could do nothing but awkwardly stand to the side, watching. As the girl began pulling the cart away, Yubie stops her.

“哪个，姑娘，您的名字。。。“ [Um，young girl. Your name…]

The girl turned towards him with a shy smile, “啊。。。我姓李，叫__。不过叫我棉棉就行啦！您呢？“ [Ah… Last name’s Li, first name __. But calling me Mian Mian will do! You?]

“雨别。“ [Yubie]

“雨别。。。好优雅。很适合您，” [Yubie… so elegant. It suits you.] the girl smiled, sending poor Yubie’s heart sputtering.

“实在是不好意思，雨先生。我真的得回家了。“ [So sorry, Yu sir. I really must get home.] The girl bowed before pulling her cart away as Yubie simply stood there, watching as her form got smaller and smaller. He too turns and leaves after.

————————————————————————————

The next time he sees her was when a village had been faced with a terrible fire. After saving her, he was told that the nation has been threatened by a foreign unknown source. Not a villager had a clue where they came from. But all describe the forces as wearing all black with specks of gold, almost like liquid gold.

“雨先生——“ [Yu sir—]

“雨别就行了。“ [Yubie will do.]

“雨别，他们是谁啊？我从没见过他们那样的人。“ [Yubie, who are they? I’ve never seen people like them before.]

Yubie was silent, unsure if he should tell her. Yet his consciousness ruled that if she doesn’t know, she’ll be more likely to run into trouble.

“他们不是人。“ [They aren’t human.]

The girl looked back at him, shocked.

“不是人？” [Not human?]

“按理说，他们原来是人。” [Logically speaking, they were human once.]

“原来。。。那发生了什么？他们现在为何不是人了呢？” [Originally… then what happened? Why aren’t they human now?]

“魔阴。” [Mara.]

“魔阴是什么？” [What’s mara.]

“一种能让人变成魔妖的病。” [A disease that turns humans into demonic beings.]

“怎么可怕！那我们该如何打败他们啊？” [That’s tarrying! Then how do we defeat them?]

Yubie smiles at her and reaches up to pat her head. The girl in turn didn’t seem to mind, rather, she leans into him. His arm then slowly lowers to her elbows as he tightened his hold around her.

“这是神仙们的战争。咱们就把这个留给他们吧。” [This is a battle for immortals and gods. We just leave these to them.]

The girl smiled, leaning further into Yubie. The two sat in silence, gazing out into the setting sun.

“雨别？“ [Yubie?]

“嗯？“ [Yeah?]

“你喜欢哪个神仙呀？“ [Who’s your favorite immortals and gods?]

Yubie sat there, unsure what to answer. Afraid that if he does, he’ll be giving his identity away.

“我不知道。喜欢的神仙们太多了，” [I don’t know. I like a lot of them.] He gave a half true answer, “你呢？“ [You?]

“饮月君！” [Imbibitor Lunae!]

Her answer took Yubie by surprise. Fighting an intense blush from rising, he looks at her, fully interested in her answer and yearns for a reason.

“你为何要选饮月君？“ [Why must you choose Imbibitor Lunae?] He asked, his heart beats erratically.

“他可是青龙。又聪明又疼人。再说，他是一条龙! 龙还挺可爱的呢。“ [He’s the green dragon. Smart and caring towards humans. And he’s a dragon! Dragons are quite cute.]

With every word she spoke, the redder Yubie’s face and ears became. After, the girl takes notice of his reddening ears and teasingly asks him, “诶呀，耳朵怎么都红啦？” [Aiya, why are your ears read?]

Yubie’s eyes began blinking rapidly as he quickly turns his head away from her. “难道。。。你。。。” [Could it be… you…] The girl trailed off, making Yubie panic as he started to believe that she’s going to figure out his true identity.

“你也很喜欢银月君！” [You also really like Imbibitor Lunae!]

Yubie breathed out a sigh of relief as he nodded shyly to her words. Safe for another day, he thought. And just like that, the two began telling each other of their past. Yubie, making his as vague as he can.

————————————————————————————————

The third time Yubie saw her, was also his last time seeing her. An intense battle had broken out within the nation. Phantylia and her forces made a move on the girl’s village. Anxiety gripped Yubie’s heart as he rushed there. Yet when he arrived, not a mara-struck soldier could be spotted. None that was living anyways.

Running through the street, he called out for any survivors. Not getting an answer, he sent his force to dig through rubble. He himself though, began running around, calling for the girl. Yet his call once again remains unanswered. It wasn’t until he was on the verge of giving up, did he see flowers scattered behind a particularly large rubble. Yubie’s heart picked up as he rushed behind it, only to have his hopes shattered when he saw the state the girl was in. Carefully, he picked her up and automatically felt the blood trickling onto his hand. Her chest had been pierced by a sword as her head had crashed onto something, leading her temple to bleed profusely.

Plip. Plop. Tears fell onto the girl’s cold skin as Yubie held onto her cold dead hands tightly. He cradles her close to him as he cried, his heart sinking in never-ending despair. ‘Is this what heart break feels like? I never got to tell her…‘

For all the light and hope she gave him, Yubie could only repay with a kiss to her forehead and a love confessed too late.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you soon enough.

The first time he met her in his next life was when he went by Dan Feng. She had entered the inn where he was at with attendants by her side. He was in the middle of a conversation with Yingxing when he heard a commotion at a table in the corner. It caught the pair’s attention as they both turned to see a man close to their age in appearance, harassing the girl. She continued drinking her tea as the man and her attendant argued.

“I’ll say, you need to properly teach your attendants!” The man snarled.

“Sir, do you not have manners?”

“You! How are you speaking to me huh?! I’m a young master! Young master!”

“Who cares if you’re a young master or not. You can’t even recognize her highness, so are you really a young master?”

“You!” The man raises a hand to hit the attendant.

Unable to watch or listen any further, Dan Feng gets out of his seat and walks towards the man.

“Enough!”

The man stops and glares at Dan Feng as the girl glances up from her cup.

“And who are you?!”

Dan Feng doesn’t answer him. Instead, he states, “You are aware that hitting any servant of a princess is strictly forbidden.”

The man scoffs once more before walking out of the inn. The attendant bows to him as he held her arms, telling her there was no need.

“感谢公子。“ [Thank you, childe.]

“不必。他刚才为何生气？” [No need. Why was he mad?]

The attendant looks at Dan Feng before looking at the girl then back to him again.

“Well…”

The attendant is cut off as the girl sets down her cup.

“他想追求我。我没同意。“ [He asked for my hand. I didn’t agree.]

The attendant looked at her shocked by her ease of language.

“公主！可不能怎么随意说出！万一。。。“ [Princess! You can’t just say that so casually! What if…]

The girl sighs as Yingxing approaches the group. She slowly stands with the help of her other attendants.

“It’s okay. At this time, long story short is the way to go. It saves time. Anyone can charge in at any given moment and attack.”

The girl faces Dan Feng properly before giving a slight bow, her head never once lowering.

“感谢公子帮了我。“ [Thank you for helping me, childe.]

“It is something I should do,” he bows back, head lowered.

The girl gives him a small smile before turning and leaving the inn with a small limp. Dan Feng watches her leave; a tug of familiarity was felt as Yingxing clears his throat.

“Why didn’t you ask for her name?”

Dan Feng shoots him a look, “人家是公主，不礼貌。“ [She’s a princess, it’s ill-mannered.]

Yingxing smirks in return, “人家是公主，我们是神。” [She’s a princess, we are gods.]

Dan Feng could only tsk as he whacks Yingxing’s arm while glancing around to ensure that no one heard.

“Are you trying to expose us?” He hissed.

A giggle from Yingxing was all Dan Feng got.

————————————————————————————————————

The next time he saw her was when he was invited to court. Or rather, Yingxing did and he decided to bring Dan Feng along. While Yingxing was locked in discussion with the emperor, Dan Feng wandered around the gardens as he heard a gentle zither playing. Following the sound, he finds the girl sitting at peace as her fingers plucked the silken strings. As if sensing him, she stops playing and turned towards his direction.

“何人？“ [Who is it?]

Dan Feng steps out from behind the bamboo trunk as he gracefully made his way towards her.

“Princess’ playing is rather elegant. It holds much clarity.”

The girl blushed before lowering her gaze to her zither as her hand gently runs up and down the strings.

“Why have you entered the palace today?”

“Ah, may princess forgive me. I came with a friend who is currently in a meeting with the emperor. I am not summoned; this I wander about.”

The girl merely smiles and invites him to tea as she played and chatted. And there it was, the feeling Dan Feng couldn’t shake off. That feeling of familiarity gnaws at his heart. Her eyes held that same mirth and her voice contains a much gentler lilt than he “remembers”. Sensing him spacing off, the girl asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Quickly trying to find an excuse, Dan Feng asked her, “Princess, what is your name?”

The girl smiled shyly before answering, “Li __. But those I know call me Mian Mian.”

’It’s that nickname again. Mian Mian.‘

“You asked for my name, so it is only fair I ask for yours.”

Dan Feng looks up at her with surprise, “Dan Feng.”

“Dan Feng… It’s an elegant name.”

“I — thank you, princess.”

The girl shifted, revealing a scarred leg. Her face briefly twists in pain noticed by Dan Feng. Seeing her leg, Dan Feng questioned her.

“What… happened to your leg.”

The girl places a hand on her leg, as if to cover it. She mulls over her words before saying, “It happened when I was young. An unwatched dog had gotten to me as I was playing. It bit me and wouldn’t let go until my sister had hit it with a branch while crying in fear. After investigating, my father found the dog belonged to a minister. The dog, turned out, bit more people. Mostly servants. So, every time they thought to tell, they were pressured by the minister to keep quiet. The minister wanted me gone so he could easily rise the ranks.”

“Why does he want you gone?”

“It probably has to do with me rejecting a marriage proposal.”

“With his son?”

The girl nodded.

“He wanted to ascend the ranks by having his son marry me. But I rejected the offer. His son is 15 years older, thus I can’t imagine the two of us spending a long life together.”

“Was your father upset at all?”

“No. He’s quite elated to be honest. Father was always eager to marry off his sons, but when it came to marrying off his daughters, he’s always the first to reject all suitors. At least, that’s what my brother tells me.”

“What became of the minister?”

“He was banished. Simple as that.”

“At least you’re safe now.”

The girl huffed, “This is a court. I only happen to live here. So how safe can it be?”

Dan Feng looked at her confused. Not fully grasping what she meant.

Months goes by. Dan Feng exchanges letter with the girl regularly. It went from mundane to adventurous, to rants. Until one day, he received a letter asking him to arrive at court for a celebration. Her birthday, he thought. A problem quickly presented itself: the girl’s birthday is coming up, and Dan Feng had no clue what to gift her. Perhaps a pearl will do. But that’s too plain. How about a bracelet? But she plays a zither, the bracelet will only get in the way.

’“This is a court. I only happen to live here. So how safe can it be?”‘

Her words echoed in his mind. The girl wears hair sticks a lot, so surely a hair stick concealing a small blade will easily go undetected. He nodded to himself. Yes. Surely this will work.

When the day of celebration came about, Dan Feng nervously fidgeted with the box that held the hair stick. Yingxing noticed his friend’s unusual behavior and gently nudged him. “Why are you so nervous?”

“What if she won’t like it?”

Yingxing rolled his eyes, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but she’s not known for her openness. For her to write to you regularly means she sees you as someone close. Someone trustworthy.”

Dan Feng looks at him deadpanned, “说人话。” [Speak human language.]

"Point is, she'll like it. It did come frome someone she trusts."

Dan Feng relaxes a bit as people filed into the castle then stopped before the girl to give her their well wishes. And before he knew it, he found himself standing before the girl. There she sat, in finely woven robes as Dan Feng knelt and held out the box with two hands.

“This is a hair stick I have made myself,” he states as a servant takes the box and presents it to the girl. She gingerly runs a finger over the hair stick, admiring the intricate etches.

“I hope the hair stick serves you well, in times of need of protection.”

“Thank you, Dan Feng.”

He bows before taking his leave as his heart yearns to glance at her once more. The feast commences, with servants bringing up various kinds of food. Throughout the night, Dan Feng kept glancing at her, only to look away when she looks towards him. Yingxing kept teasing him as his face flushed. It wasn’t until the banquet concludes does Dan Feng pulls Yingxing aside, ensuring they aren’t followed or eavesdropped on.

“What? Why are we in a secluded corner?” Yingxing asked confused.

“Yingxing… I think… I—” Dan Feng pauses, finding words to continue on.

“You what? Come on spit it out! We need to leave before we become seen as suspicious!”

“I think I fancy Mian Mian,” Dan Feng said quickly as his gaze falls in embarrassment.

Yingxing’s eyes widen with shock. In his life of knowing Dan Feng, never had his friend been so forward. Without a word, Yingxing dragged Dan Feng with him as the two made their way towards their carriage. Upon lifting the veil, he ushers Dan Feng on before entering the carriage himself. Sitting down, Yingxing hissed, “别忘了，我们是神仙。“ [Don’t forget, we are gods.]

Dan Feng only nods as his eyebrows furrow with confusion. Yingxing sighs through his nose and rolled his eyes at his friend’s expression.

“We are gods. Immortals. We can’t love mortals in a romantic sense even if we wanted to. You know the punishment that will befall us if we are caught in a romantic relationship with a mortal.”

“But I’m not immortal. I die and reform a new.”

“Yes to immortals, you perish easily. But to mortals, you are immortal in every sense. You retain your immortal name and your power after rebirth. That to a mortal still are signs of immortality.”

Dan Feng looks away, finding no words to refute Yingxing’s. He knows the punishment better than anyone, a past incarnation having gone through forced rebirth after slaying denizens of abundance and sealing Phantylia — had been found to harbor romantic feelings for a mortal. All Dan Feng learned was the mortal had already died, and did a favor for the other gods, this his sentencing was only forced rebirth instead of stripping his status along with it.

“Then… what do I do, Yingxing?”

Yingxing sat back in thought before answering, “What you do is up to you. You can choose to distance yourself or continue as her friend and bury your feelings for her.”

Dan Feng only nods, gaze seemingly absent.

——————————————————————————————————

Two months passed as Dan Feng finds himself walking through the snow-covered winter grounds with the girl. The two chat amongst themselves as they slowly made their way towards the library. Both mentioned a liking towards the history and romantic literature. Finding his own collections low, he wrote to the girl, asking if he could read a few selections in the library, to which she agreed.

“藏书楼到了！” [We’ve arrived at the library!]

Before them stood a tall rounded tower with blackened roof and red columns with white walls. A style very reminiscent of the earlier century. Walking up to the two tall doors, the girl pushes it open with a huff as it slowly creaks open. The hall is silent, save for the clacking of the girl’s clogs and brushing of brocaded silks. The two went separate ways, browsing different scrolls and books then finding a place to sit as they read. The days passed like this until the girl had asked him to meet in the garden of her palace for supper.

As Dan Feng walked to her gate, it opened showing a young maid who took one look at him before inviting him in and leading him to the part of the garden where the girl waited. As he sat down, the girl spoke, “Have you heard? The denizens of abundance are on the move.” He looked at her with surprise.

“How long have you known about the denizens of abundance?”

“Ever since I turned 15. There was no way for people to not notice them any longer.”

Dan Feng remains silent, letting the girl rant.

“For as long as I have known, we’ve always been at war with the abundance. It’s carried on for hundreds of years now. When will it ever end?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a god, aren’t you?”

Her question stunned him. Not once did he mention anything about his association with the heavens, nor did he ever talk about what he does.

“How… how did you know?’

“Many things really. It’s not every day you see a middle-aged man locked in a deep conversation with a much younger man like they’ve known each other their whole life.”

“He’s not that old.”

“To you he’s not. But to me and many others, he is. And you never really told me what you do, yet you always seem to have money. You also are well read. More than your average wealthy person, and you know lots about art, as if you’ve spent centuries perfecting it. Not to mentions, you practically sleep where knowledge is kept. And don’t think I don’t see the look in your eyes when you gaze at the dragons at the library entrance.”

Dan Feng is silent for a moment before asking, “When did you find out?”

“Since the celebration on my birthday. No one is that brave enough to gift me a blade hidden in a hair stick. And again, to be able to afford pearls of that quality. If it wasn’t the threat of abundance, my father would definitely begin suspecting you.”

“And why does me being a god matter to you?” Dan Feng asked, his heart racing.

“Can’t you do something about it? Fight the abundance or a least gift us abilities to do so?”

“Even if I had the power, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have the power to command many forces. I’m a minor god of the moon, not for battle. Even then, if I was a god of war, I will still need permissions from the rulers and anyone else I answer to.”

The girl falls silent.

“So you’re saying, you can only defend yourself?”

Dan Feng nods.

————————————————————————————————

The last time he saw her in this life was witnessing her be poisoned.

The day had started like any other, he met with her while in the company of Yingxing. The three had made their way to the market. After eating and drifting from vendor to vendor, they returned with a request to a banquet from the emperor. It was going well. All the food were served as normal while all guests watched dances and plays until everyone heard intense coughing.

“Someone fetch the doctor! Quick! The fourth princess has been poisoned!” a maid screamed.

All hell broke loose at once. People ran as if trying to escape as few turned to mara-struck soldiers. Dan Feng pushed past the havoc as he sees the emperor trying to cut his way through the denizens. By the time Dan Feng got to her, she was already weak.

“Mian Mian!” He called out to her while cradling her close to him. ‘No… it’s happening again. Just like last time.’

“Dan… Feng…”

“Shh. I’m here, you’ll be okay.”

“这话。。。是对我说的？还是。。。还是对你自己说的？“ [Your words… Is it said towards me? Or… or is it said towards yourself?]

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t make it,” her hand moved towards her mid-section, where the hair stick he had gifted her, is embedded deeply into.

“Why?”

“I was given a choice. Either turn into them, or die. It’s obvious which I chose.”

Dan Feng’s hand enclosed over hers as tears streamed down his face.

“你的手好暖啊。。。丹枫，你能陪着我吗？我好困啊。“ [Your hands are so warm… Dan Feng, can you stay with me? I’m so tired.] She whispered weakly.

He nodded as he clutched her cold hands. With each passing second, she grows weaker and weaker until her eyes closed and her breathing stills. It happened once again… I lost her again. He looked around, trying to catch sight of familiar locks of white. Yet, all he saw were the bodies of others. The servants, the emperor, ministers. But not a shadow of his friend in sight. Lifting the girl’s cold body in to a bridle carry Dan Feng carefully made his way through the palace as he finally sees his friend tending to those in need.

“Yingxing.”

Hearing his friend calling for him, Yingxing turns to see Dan Feng carrying the girl. Others who saw the pair bowed until their heads touched the stone, some even crying.

“Dan Feng…”

“I need your help getting her to the central palace.”

“Are you crazy? She’s never cultivated like I have. If you take her there, you’ll be punished!”

“And I’m willing to face that punishment.”

“Why?”

“Yingxing, I don’t think I can carry on another life without her.”

“And if she doesn’t remember who you are?”

“I’m a selfish man. You know that.”

Yingxing sighs heavily, “Okay. I’ll help you. But if anything happens along the way, I want you to go straight ahead. Don’ bother saving me. Do you understand?”

Dan Feng nods.

“Go. Flee. All of you. This place is no longer safe,” Yingxing commanded.

Heeding his words, everyone quickly fled, never looking back. The two quickly makes their way to the Hall of Worship. And just like what Yingxing suspected, denizens of abundance are hot on their trail. As they were reaching the gates, more mara-struck appears, cutting them off their path. Seeing as they have nowhere to go, Yingxing turns to Dan Feng, “Fly there. I’ll hold them off.”

Dan Feng holds Yingxing’s gaze as the denizens began closing in.

“Thank you, Yingxing.”

He gives a court nod to Dan Feng as he takes flight in the direction of the Hall of Worship. Yingxing locked eyes with a mara-struck soldier as he raises his sword, ready to face his imminent death.

By the time Dan Feng arrived, the sun was starting to set. Not letting anymore time go to waste, he teleports both himself and the girl to the central palace, collapsing onto his knees upon landing. By seeing the pair’s arrival, everyone rushed to them in shock.

“Quickly! Send a force to the capitol! They’re under attack by denizens! Please!” He begged.

Jing Yuan glanced at the empress as she gave a nod. He turns and leaves quickly, the doors slamming shut behind him.

“And why have you brought a deceased mortal? Where is Yingxing?” The empress asked, her voice steady.

Dan Feng looked down towards the girl before back up at the empress.

“I have come to ask you to grant her a new life. An immortal one.”

“And why should I fulfill your request.”

Dan Feng swallowed his unease. Yet he was spared when the empress sighed through her nose and said, “You are aware of the price?”

Dan Feng nods eagerly, “As long as she lives, I am willing to pay any price.”

“The rules say your existence and future is to cease. However, seeing as Li __’s father took great care of her as best he could, I will merely strip you of your status and have you undergo rebirth. Now, tell me where Yingxing is.”

“He stayed behind to ensure I made it to the Hall of Worship, your majesty.” The hall falls silent as the empress gracefully stands up and walks up to Dan Feng’s kneeling form. Two maids quickly approach and bowed before them.

“Stand.”

Doing as she commanded, Dan Feng stands, carrying the girl’s body.

“Hand her over to the maids. They will start the process. She will be born a new, as an infant from the petals of an orange blossom. As for you. Best make your way to Scalegorge then. The two of you shall meet once more on the 15th day of the seventh month two decades from now.”

Blinking slowly, Dan Heng began to come to his senses. Looking around, he realizes that he’s in his own room. The familiar light turquoise quilt covering him snuggly. Carefully, he sat up as the doors to his room opens and in walks Jing Yuan.

“You’re awake!”

“What happened?”

“Right after you took the memory gem, you passed out.”

A sudden headache attacked Dan Heng as he held his head and groaned.

“Mian Mian!”

“Easy there. You’ve just recovered.”

“Remind me why you want me to regain my memories.”

“Tomorrow is the 15th. Her majesty thought it would be best if you used the memory gem before then.”

Dan Heng pulls his quilt away from him and stands with the help of Jing Yuan. He slowly hobbles to his table where warm food awaits him at. Picking up his chopsticks, he slowly begins to eat while listening to Jing Yuan ramble about his day.

The next day, Dan Heng began preparing to meet the girl he’s dreamt about. What if she doesn’t like my anymore? He thought. He shook his head and smacked his face as he began to make his way to the destination Jing Yuan told him. When he arrives, he sees a feminine figure looking up at the moon. She is draped in light purple and pink silks. Sleeves long and skirts that trails. A gentle cyan pibo floats freely. Her hair adorned with many hair sticks that holds a looped bun. A fitting appearance for a fairy.

Walking up to her, Dan Heng cleared his throat — startling the poor girl. She spun around to face him, and when their eyes met, he saw the glimmers in her eyes. The longer they gazed at one another, the faster Dan Heng’s heart beats.

“棉棉。“ [Mian Mian.]

She smiles as she approached him and hugged him.

“丹恒。” [Dan Heng.]

He smiled, returning her hug. She whispered gently to him:

“谢谢。” [Thank you.]

As the moon reached high up in the sky, the two who waited two lives, shared a kiss of love and longing.

In certain times in history, emperors of China cherished their daughters, thus always choosing another girl from outside the court to be a "princess" and marry them off.

My rendition of 西王母 comes from my own understanding of what writings and media portray her as. She's caring and forgiving.

I am also today's years old when I learned that Queen Mother and Jade Emperor are only co-workers not married.

Pibo [披帛] is a type of shawl worn with hanfu. Most depictions of immortals and gods use pibo in a way to how halos are used in the west.

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This work was originally supposed to be titled 三生三世, but upon learning that it isn't actually an old saying, so I looked it up and found the two possible origins.

Beginning and ending dividers: nicodefresas

Middle dividers: fanguro