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loving-barnes · 7 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - BROKEN & MENDED

A/N: A new one-shot that I tried to write. It's okay, I guess. So here you go. Also, the title sucks, but... whatever.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Featuring: Avengers, Ex!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warning: angst, fluff, implied smut?

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 3400+

Important note: I know Wolverine is like 160cm but… I forgot about tha that so, he’s a tall MF. (They kinda fucked that up in some of the movies, so whatever.) So Hugh Jackman!Wolverine

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BROKEN & MENDED

It felt like a dagger went through her heart. Her eyes watched her boyfriend and her best friend kissing in the kitchen. They didn’t know Y/N was there. It seemed that they didn’t care someone would be able to see them. She watched it all with her two eyes. The two people she trusted the most in the entire world broke her heart. How long was this happening? Why was this happening?

The vomit threatened to escape her throat. She was sick to her stomach from the betrayal. Shaking her head, Y/N silently walked away from the scene, heading back to the room she shared with Bucky.

When her eyes landed on the messy bed, she shared with him daily, her stomach flipped. She felt nauseous like never before. How often did he bring Natasha to bed while she was away on a mission? Her feet dragged her to the bathroom, where she ended up vomiting into the toilet.

Y/N stayed on the bathroom floor for another hour, thinking about her next steps. There was no point in crying over spilt milk. Bucky had decided to find peace in other girl’s arms. He had decided to break Y/N’s heart.

Sighing, she slowly got up, washed her face and rinsed her mouth. And then it hit her. How many people knew about this affair? Of course, Steve knew. He had to. He was Bucky’s best friend. Hell, even Sam had to know something.

She fished out a phone from her jeans and texted Tony. He, of all people, would be able to understand her. Once he agreed to see her, she washed her mouth one more time and left for the lab. As expected, Tony was tinkering on one of his suits. There was a big cup of cold coffee on the table that he didn’t drink.

“What’s up, Y/L/N,” Tony asked when he noticed Y/N in the lab. He immediately noticed her body language. Something was off. “What’s going on?”

She sat in an office chair, eyes scanning all the tools scattered around the place. “I need you to do something for me - no questions asked.”

His eyes captured hers, frowning. “Oh no, you can’t pull that card on me. What’s going on? What happened?”

No wonder Y/N wanted a ‘no questions asked’. A few months ago, Tony called Y/N to get him from a club. He was drunk, covered in vomit and upset about something. Y/N didn’t question it. She drove him to the tower, got him to bed, and they never spoke about it again.

Y/N took a deep breath, her lips quivering. She wanted to scream, cry and throw a tantrum like a child. Her heart was breaking some more. “I’m resigning.”

“What?!” Tony jumped on his feet. That statement woke him up. “What do you mean, Y/N? Does Barnes know about that? Are you two planning something? Are you pregnant?”

She shook her head. Damn, that last question got her even more. When did she start to feel the want to have kids with him? “He doesn’t know anything. I need you to accept my resignation and let me silently leave as soon as possible,” she said. “Please.”

Tony wasn’t a fool. He could see the pain in her eyes, how her lips trembled and how she tried to hold it together. Tony was able to put two and two together. Something happened between them - it was over. “Shit,” he shook his head in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Please, Tony,” she raised a hand into the air. “I have to do this. If he can’t come clean, I can leave without a word. Two can play this game.”

“But,” he closed the distance and put his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “You can’t leave the Avengers. You are like the little sister I never had. I can kick Barnes’s ass again if you’d like. Say the word and I will detach that damn arm from him.”

Y/N chuckled. It was hard to hold it together and not cry in front of Tony. “We can stay in touch, Stark. Please, don’t make me stay. My heart is broken, shattered into a million pieces. I won’t be able to look them in the eyes-”

“Them?” he interrupted her. “Who’s the woman?”

A tear finally escaped Y/N’s eye. “Natasha,” she whispered.

Tony’s fists clenched. He wanted to curse out loud and throw something into a wall. “I’m sorry,” was all he said to her. “I’m sorry things went to shit like this. Holy fuck, Natasha and Barnes? What the fuck?”

As the dam broke, Tony caught her in his tight embrace and let Y/N cry it out. He wouldn’t do it for anyone but her. As Tony said, Y/N was like his little sister whom he needed to protect. He pushed her away a little to look into her eyes. The pain in them was breaking Tony’s heart.

“Is there anything you need to take?” he asked. “Any photos or personal belongings?”

Y/N thought about it. All the photos she had were with Bucky, Natasha or the team. She didn’t have any family outside the Avengers. Everything she owned had been provided for her.

“No,” she said.

Tony sighed, nodding. “Alright.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took out a wallet. He gave her a black card. “Take it.”

“What? Tony, no, I can’t,” she shook her head.

“Shut up, Y/N,” he frowned at her. “Take the damn card. I have twenty more. Get yourself a hotel, buy new clothes or a car - whatever the fuck you want. Text me from a new number once you settled down. I want to stay in contact with you even when you are on the other side of the world.”

“Oh, Tony.”

“I’ll let you know how the pandemonium went once they realise you are gone,” he chuckled at that thought. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?” he had to ask.

“I don’t owe Bucky anything - not even a stupid explanation. He decided to cheat behind my back with my best friend. God knows how long this has been going on for. I wouldn’t be surprised if Steve and Sam knew about this. I don’t trust any of them anymore, Tony. I was hurt many times before. This is a new level of pain I’ve never felt before. I thought he was it, you know? And look how it ended.”

“I want to say I understand. However, I don’t,” said Tony. “I’ll miss you, kid.”

. . .

Bucky had a phone pressed to his ear. He was walking around the lounge room like a lion in a cage. He cursed under his nose and redialed Y/N’s number. Steve, Sam and Tony walked into the lounge room, chatting. “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Bucky asked them. “I can’t get hold of her.”

“Have you checked your room?” Sam asked and sat on the couch. He put his feet up on the coffee table. “Or she’s with Natasha.”

“I’ve asked Nat. She hasn’t seen her the whole day,” said Bucky, frowning. He tried to call her again. “She’s not responding to texts. Where the hell is she? Did she go on a solo mission?”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Steve shrugged.

Tony crossed arms over his chest. “She left,” he announced.

All eyes turned to him. “What?” Steve asked. “What do you mean by that? Did Fury give her a solo mission?”

“She left,” Tony repeated sternly. Bucky approached the man, confused. “Barnes, come on, let’s not play this game. You think the woman wouldn’t notice?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Stark?” Bucky spat. “Fuck, Stark, talk. Where the hell is Y/N?”

“Y/N found out about you and Natasha.” Tony’s fists clenched. He wanted to punch Barnes into his face. “How the fuck could you do that to her, Barnes? You didn’t have the balls to tell her the truth, to talk to her. And now, because you betrayed her, she left the tower - the team.”

Steve turned to Bucky, shocked by that revelation. “You and Natasha?” he gasped. “When?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know, Rogers,” Tony scoffed.

“Shit,” Sam commented. “What the fuck, dude?”

Bucky didn’t know what to say first. “When she’ll be back?”

Tony had to laugh. “You think she’s coming back? Come on, Barnes. You broke her heart. You cheated on her with her best friend. She’s never coming back. She left because of you. Also,” he turned to the Captain and the Falcon. “She thinks you two know about the affair.”

Sam jumped up on his feet, visibly pissed. “Whoa,” he glared at Barnes. “I don’t know anything about Barnes fucking Romanoff. What the fuck, Bucky? How could you do that to the best woman you could have ever had?”

“Sam, it’s not that simple-”

“The fuck it is,” Sam yelled at him. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “I’m so angry at you.”

“Sam. I… It’s…”

“Go fuck yourself, Barnes,” he punched Bucky into his shoulder and left the lounge room.

Bucky sighed, defeated. When he looked up at Steve, he could see the disappointment in his eyes.

Tony had to chuckle. “This is what happens when you think with your dick and not with your head and heart. This is your own doing.”

. . .

A FEW YEARS LATER

It was a big day. Tony Stark threw a massive engagement party for him and Pepper. He finally had the guts to ask the woman of his dreams to marry her.

He invited over a hundred people. He wanted to celebrate his beautiful fianceé, their love and happiness. Or in other words, another reason why to throw a party. Also, this was the perfect opportunity to see Y/N again.

It was almost two years since she left the team. No one knew anything about her except Tony and Pepper. They kept in touch with her the whole time. The couple knew about her new life, new role and more importantly new love. And now, they invited her to celebrate their engagement. Her new man was also invited.

It was supposed to be a big dinner with music and drinks. Everyone was there - the whole Avengers team, some SHIELD agents and even politicians who had a good relationship with the happy couple. And yet, Tony waited for his favourite person to arrive.

He was standing by the bar, nursing a drink. Tony’s eyes wandered around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N in the crowd. The dinner was about to start, and she still wasn’t there. A hand appeared on his shoulder, striking it lovingly. “Don’t worry. She’ll be here soon,” Pepper said to his ear. “She promised to come.”

He was ready to comment on it when his eyes noticed Y/N walk through the entrance, all dressed up and with a smile plastered over her face. A tall, muscular man stood behind her, helping her with her coat. Tony smiled, glad that Y/N had arrived with her new boyfriend. Tony liked that guy a lot. Same humour, both liked the taste of whisky and they dated amazing women.

“See, she’s here,” said Pepper with a smile. She raised a hand, waving to the couple.

“Are you sure about this?” Y/N heard her boyfriend’s voice close to her ear. “You don’t have to do anythin’ that makes you uncomfortable, baby.”

She turned to him, fixing his black suit. The way Logan was staring at her made her knees weak. His eyes were hungry, she was sure of it. When he saw the dress on her, he had to hold himself back. “I know, Lo’. I’m happy you’ve decided to come with me and be my plus one. Tony likes you a lot, to be honest,” she giggled. “Also, I’m done with my past and am focused on my present, with you.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Come on, Y/N. Your friends are waiting. Nervous?”

“A little bit,” she had to admit.

Logan held her hand proudly. He tried to intimidate people with his glare. Y/N was surprised when she found him dressed in a fancy suit. Yes, it was all black - like he wanted. But damn, he looked sexy.

Together, they walked to Tony and Pepper, greeting them. Y/N hugged them both, while Logan shook hands with Tony and nodded towards Pepper.

“Congratulations, you two,” Y/N said with a smile. “You are finally doing it. I’m so proud of you, Tony. You are growing up,” she teased him.

“How are you holding up?” Pepper asked gently. “How are the kids?” her eyes moved to Logan.

“It’s not easy to teach young mutants,” Logan replied. “They can be a handful, ya know? But they love Y/N.”

Y/N wrapped an arm around Logan’s waist, smiling. “They like all of us. All of them are grateful to have a place to live and feel safe. And, to answer your question, I’m doing good. Am I nervous? Yes. Am I happy? Also yes.”

“I can’t believe you became a teacher in a mutant school,” Tony shook his head in disbelief. “Is it cool that you two are together?” he pointed between the couple. “Isn’t there any strict policy that you cannot date an old man?” he joked.

Logan glared at him. “Hilarious, Stark.”

“Come on, Wolverine. I am just messing around. But seriously, no policy?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “No, nothing like that. Thank god.”

“Last time, it bit you in the ass,” Tony glared at Y/N.

She sighed. “I know, but why make these policies? I know in the end it can hurt the team, but… “ she shook her head, not finishing.

“Out of curiosity, what would you do if you weren’t allowed to date?” Pepper asked.

Logan and Y/N looked at each other. There was a brief silence. “I’d take her to Canada,” he said after some thinking. “We’d buy ourselves a place, somewhere in the mountains.” He could see how her eyes lit up when he mentioned living far away. “Unfortunately, we had decided to stay and teach young mutants. Who knows what will bring us the future.”

Y/N wanted to press a kiss to his lips. But she knew Logan wasn’t fond of PDA. Her mouth opened to tell him how much she loved him.

“Y/N?”

Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. Slowly, she turned to the voice, finding Steve standing behind the couple, surprised to see her. “Hi,” she said cheerfully.

“Wow, you look amazing. I’m glad to see you again,” he nodded, smiling. His eyes moved to the man beside her. Steve observed him - he was tall muscular and a bit scary. He stretched his arm. “I’m Steve Rogers,” he introduced himself.

Logan grabbed his hand, shaking it. “Logan,” he said firmly.

When their hands disconnected, both men turned their eyes on Y/N. “I see you are doing well,” Steve said to Y/N. “It’s been… what, two years?”

“Something like that,” she shrugged. Her eyes moved to Logan. “I’ll quickly go to the bathroom before dinner. I’ll be right back.” Instantly, Logan leaned in and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Y/N couldn’t believe her boyfriend was affectionate in public. They would leave the PDA behind closed doors. It was sweet.

Y/N walked through the crowd of people, heading to the ladies' room. No one paid her any attention. She registered some celebrities and politicians. Everyone was here for Tonny and Pepper. Y/N opened the door, walked in with a gentle smile and was met with Natasha. The smile was instantly gone. The woman was staring at her reflection in the mirror, fixing her make-up when her eyes landed on Y/N.

Y/N’s eyes widened. Her breath got stuck. As much as she told herself she was ready for this, she wasn’t. “Hi,” she said neutrally and quickly locked herself inside a toilet room.

She heard the entrance door open and closed a few times. Y/N hoped Natasha left. Unfortunately, after she was done and left the toilet, Natasha was leaning against the counter, waiting.

“Hi,” Natasha greeted her, whispering. Her eyes followed Y/N’s every moment. “H-how have you been?”

Y/N sighed. She started to wash her hands. “Do we have to talk?” she asked emotionless.

“Yes, we do. I haven’t seen you in two years. I missed you,” said Natasha.

“You are kidding, right?” Y/N glared at her through the mirror. “How can you say this after what happened? How can you stand there and say those words when you had a thing with my then-boyfriend?” She turned off the water and wiped her hands with paper towels. “I promised myself I would enjoy this evening, celebrate Tony’s engagement and then leave. I guess things never turn out how we want.”

After she was done, Y/N left the bathroom. She was visibly upset. All she wanted was to hide in Logan’s arms, have a meal and leave. How could she believe she’d be able to come here? Why was she still this hurt when she had a wonderful man by her side? Did she…? No. The only thing left was the hurt. Her heart belonged to Logan now. She loved him more than she ever loved anyone.

“Y/N,” Natasha followed her out. “Please, let’s talk. You need to listen to me.”

“I don’t have to do shit, Romanoff.” Fate wasn’t kind to Y/N. When she walked outside, she was met with the one person she hoped to avoid the most. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she cursed.

Bucky stood before her in a tux. His hair was short, face shaved and smooth. Those blue eyes were wide open as he stared at his ex-girlfriend all dressed up. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Y/N, you are here.”

“Obviously,” she sighed. “I am Tony’s good friend,” she said. She wanted to walk away from the. Unfortunately, he gently grabbed her by her forearm, stopping her. “Let me go, Barnes.”

“Please, we need to talk. Only for a minute.”

Y/N yanked her arm out of his grip. “There is nothing to talk about. I don’t want to talk to any of you,” her eyes went from him to Natasha and back.

“Yes, there is,” he frowned. “You left without a word.”

She frowned at him. “So? You slept with my best friend behind my back. You cheated on me and didn’t have the balls to be honest with me.” Y/N fixed her dress and straightened her back. “I found you two making out in the damn kitchen. So, no, there is nothing to talk about. I came here to celebrate Tony and Pepper.”

Natasha sighed, upset about it all. Bucky shook his head. “You left, Y/N. For fuck’s sake you left without a word,” he raised his voice.

“That’s all you care about?” she asked. “Barnes, you broke my heart. Do you think I’d stay here after what happened? Do you think I’d be happy to see you two together? Wake up. Both of you.” Y/N turned to Natasha, to see her upset face.

A hand appeared on her shoulder, stroking it gently. Y/N released a deep breath she didn’t know she was holding and calmed down. She smelled Logan’s cologne he used for tonight. “You okay, baby?” he asked, eyes shooting daggers at the supersoldier and the spy.

Y/N strengthened her back. “Logan, meet James Barnes and Natasha Romanoff,” she introduced them. She didn’t need to define who they were and what they did to her. Logan already knew. “They don’t seem to understand that I don’t want to talk to them.”

Logan chuckled. “He seems like a guy who doesn’t understand a lot of things,” his eyes darkened. He was not fond of the man standing before him.

“Excuse me?” Bucky frowned.

“Oh, get a life, bub,” Logan scoffed. “The lady said she doesn’t want to talk to ya. So I suggest you leave her the fuck alone.”

With that, Logan grabbed her hand and walked with her away from the pair. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing its top. “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded. “You know what? Let’s have some food, you know, do a little damage and then leave. I want to be alone with you tonight, sir. We have a hotel room that Tony provided us,” she winked at him.

“That dress needs to go as soon as possible,” Logan purred to her ear. “One hour and then we are gone, princess.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Logan Howlett fanfiction #Marvel fanfiction

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afterglowkatie · 4 months ago

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we are broken | a.p.

alexia putellas x mccabe!reader | katie mccabe x mccabe!reader (platonic) | 3.4k | when your relationship with alexia falls apart, your sister is there to pick you back up

ˏˋ°•*⁀ first fic for my we were happy universe, set pre enchanted to meet you universe. this is starting at the end of alexia and r's relationship, and might have come to be written from my own personal experience and the last 6 months of a 6 year relationship i was previously in :) anyway! hope you enjoy it! mostly angst, hurt/comfort :) also really happy with this one! italics = flashback/not the present time!

‘Ale, where are you even going right now?’ You watched, clinging onto the sheets you had wrapped around your bare body while you watched your girlfriend scramble around picking up her clothes and getting dressed again. It was the middle of the night and it wasn’t the first time Alexia had done this.

You used to go to and from training together, but now you’d arrive home before Alexia even bothered to let you know if she was coming home that night. She’d been spending more time away from you and any time she did spend with you it seemed like a chore for her. If she came home, you’d at least eat together, but there always had to be a show playing and Alexia never cared to listen to what you had to say any more.

Alexia used to, or you thought she used to love listening to you talk about your day. Even if you were both at training you’d often find yourself in different groups, though Alexia would always find you throughout the day, stealing little kisses and hugs from you. But now you’d be lucky if she responded with more than one word whenever you did try to speak.

Some nights were different, some nights you saw the Alexia that you knew loved you, but those moments had started to become short lived. It was like you’d been stuck in this cycle for months now, no way of knowing how to break it, or if it could be broken at this point.

Tonight was just another night that left you confused and wanting answers. She’d been so sweet with you, cooking dinner for the two of you and listening to the stories of whatever you and Mapi had gotten up to instead of actually training, the two of you together were always trouble.

Alexia had kissed you in a way that made your knees buckle and you instantly melted against her. It had been a while since she’d kissed you like that and now you were paying the price of instantly letting her have you just to break all over again. Which she did, as soon as it was over, as soon as she was done with you the facade dropped. She wiped her mouth, placing a small kiss against your thigh before leaving you lying there to catch yourself.

The Alexia you fell in love with, the Alexia for that first year and a half of your relationship would’ve kissed her way up your body. Whispering sweet nothings, while you caught your breath and came down from your high. She used to look at you with so much softness and love, you wondered where that all went and when did it all change. Why wouldn’t she stay and cuddle with you like she used to?

You had started feeling like you were just a toy for her to use whenever she wanted and just throw away once she was done. It wasn’t a great feeling and every time you were left laying in the bed you were supposed to share with Alexia, feeling used and thinking about the times with Alexia before everything started to change. Sequentially, you started to hate yourself for always folding whenever Alexia gave you a crumb of attention that mimicked the first year of your relationship, when you knew you’d end up hurt all over again.

There were times you had tried to talk to Alexia about the change that you’d notice but every time she would dismiss it and say how stressed she’d been lately. You obviously sympathised with your girlfriend and tried to do anything you could to make her life easier. You could understand that her role within the club wasn’t always easy, so you did what you could to support Alexia.

Because that’s what you do for your girlfriend and you love Alexia more than you could ever begin to explain. Six months ago you’d give her the space she said she needed, you were understanding. But then six months went by and everything with Alexia had progressively gotten worse.

‘Alexia, amor, are you listening to me?’ You sat up, just wanting Alexia to acknowledge you for once instead of ignoring you and then pretending everything was fine the next day.

‘Je-Y/n,’ Alexia sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping you wouldn’t notice her almost slip up. What she didn’t realise is that you started to hang onto her every word and every ounce of attention, as pathetic as you felt for doing that. So you did notice the slip up.

Your eyes narrowed and you sat up more, making sure that the sheet that was wrapped around you didn’t fall. You already felt vulnerable enough in front of Alexia right now, you didn’t want to add to that, ‘Is there another person?’ Your voice was small, the question making you feel sick to your stomach. The weight you felt in your chest increased the longer Alexia went with answering your question.

It was a question that had plagued the back of your mind but that’s where you kept that thought. You thought you knew Alexia and you really thought that was something she would never do to you. As much as you didn’t want to accept and admit it, it made the most sense with how she’d started treating you and acting around you. All those times when you’d see that sweet, loving and caring side to Alexia again, was filled with the thoughts that she was only being that way to you out of guilt.

‘Amor, just don’t wait up,’ Alexia couldn’t bring herself to look at you or to answer your question, though for you her no answer was an answer in itself, telling you what you subconsciously already knew.

‘No, Alexia, I’m sick of feeling like a chore you don’t want to do. I’m tired of being a second choice. If I’d known this is how you’d end up treating me, I would’ve never said yes when you asked me to be your girlfriend. You don’t treat someone you love this way, Alexia, unless,’ Your voice trailed off, mind spiralling out of control and letting your emotions take over, ‘Ale,’ Tears pricked at your eyes but you were determined to not let them fall. You didn’t want to let them fall, to be vulnerable in front of Alexia. But you wanted her to see how much she’s hurt you, even if you don’t think she’d feel bad for what she’s done.

As soon as you heard the door to your apartment shut, the tears started streaming down your face. You were heartbroken in a country that you’d only been living in for three years, around people you weren’t 100% comfortable around while in this state. You were yearning for the safety of your sister's arms, she always knew how to help you and make you feel better.

Your older sister, despite being quite close in age, had always been quite protective over you. She’d been there for you throughout your previous heartbreaks and rejections, promising to always keep you safe and reassuring you that you were always loved. As long as you had your older sister, nothing could hurt you that much.

While laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you knew that you couldn’t stay here right now. You couldn’t be alone, you didn’t want to feel alone or lonely and you just wanted a break from your mind that continued to spiral and plague your mind with unpleasant thoughts about you and Alexia, but mainly about yourself.

You didn’t give anyone room to argue or negotiate with you when you said you needed to take a week away for personal reasons. At this point you didn’t care if you were benched the rest of the season or if something else happened. You were focused on doing what was best for yourself. Right now you couldn’t stay in Barcelona, you couldn’t go back to the club and have to face Alexia right now.

Before you knew it, before anyone else knew it, you were on your way back to London. Navigating your way through the familiar city and finding yourself at the door of the apartment that felt like home, ‘Katie what’s wrong with me?’ The only words you managed to get out before you wrapped your arms around your sister and let all your emotions out.

Katie didn’t have the time to process that you were here, at her apartment, crying in her arms. The last she knew you were supposed to be in Barcelona. From what you’d told her, you were thriving. That wasn’t a complete lie, you were thriving in football at Barcelona. But you’d neglected to let yourself lean on anyone during the last six months. Not wanting to accept that your relationship was failing and wanting to live in the delusion that you could fix the drift that was occurring between you and Alexia.

Which led you to not telling anyone you were close with, sure some of the girls at Barcelona had noticed the growing rift between you and Alexia, but you always dismissed anyone’s worries or concerns. Not talking about it was the only thing you had to lean on. In the end it didn’t work out for you, making you go all the way to London to try to accept the one thing you’d been dreading coming true the last few months.

Katie managed to move the both of you from the front door to the couch, sitting down with you almost in her lap. She’d never seen you look so small, the vacant look in your eyes while the tears fell silently down your face. Until you were able to calm yourself down all Katie could do was hold you and rub your back gently, whispering that she’s here and you’re okay.

But you weren’t okay, at this moment you didn’t know if you would ever be okay again. The irrational part of your brain taking over, any sense of rationality you would’ve had was long taken over by your emotions. Eventually you’re breathing evened out and the tears slowed, not stopping completely but less than before.

‘I don’t wanna talk about it,’ Your voice was small and raspy from all the crying you’d done. You thought you might’ve been overreacting the whole situation, but the more you thought about the other night and the last six months in general, you realised that you weren’t overreacting. Even if neither you or Alexia had said the words out loud, you knew what you both shared was over and it had been for a while now.

‘Whenever you’re ready, I got you,’ A promise that Katie would never break, especially when it came to you. You were both the closest in age in your family, you both loved football, you both just had this bond that nothing could ever compare to it.

‘And just kick the ball, like this,’ You watched your older sister intently while she taught you everything she was learning. Every week you’d cheer on your sister at her games, always in awe of how good you thought she was. Especially when she’d taken out and was better than that one boy that had been calling you names at school.

You begged your mam to buy you your own football and you instantly found Katie when you’d gotten home that day showing her what you bought, ‘I wanna be just like you,’

‘I think, maybe you might be better than me one day,’ From then on, anyone would find you and Katie in the yard, kicking around the ball, playing little scrimmages just the two of you. Even if Katie would always win when it was the two of you messing around, it made you work harder until the day you managed to beat your older sister.

‘Do you think one day we’d play for Ireland together? Do you think I’m good enough to?’ You and Katie were both a bit older now. Katie had played a few times in the youth teams for Ireland and the moment you saw your sister wearing the Ireland kit, you knew that’s what you wanted. You wanted to do that and you wanted it to be alongside your sister.

‘One day the whole world will know who the McCabe sisters are,’ You both laughed while laying outside looking up at the sky. A dream you both shared, playing for Ireland together, one that eventually came true. From being kids messing around, always with a ball at your feet, to living out your dreams together.

Eventually you told Katie everything that had happened between you and Alexia, recalling every last thing from the last six months. Katie hated how you were still downplaying how Alexia had treated you and constantly making excuses and defending her. But she could see how much you were hurting, she’d give you a reality check another day but for now she’d hold back.

Despite everything, you still love Alexia. You love her to the point you feel guilty saying anything bad about her, because there were lots of good moments, lots of times where she made you feel loved. You didn’t want that to be forgotten, you didn’t want to forget that. You didn’t want the last six months to completely take away from the year and a half before, when everything with Alexia was perfect.

You were surprised at your sister's reaction, honestly thinking you’d have to hold her back from getting on the next flight to Barcelona and tracking Alexia down to give her a piece of her mind. Instead Katie wrapped her arms around you and made you promise to not shut her or anyone out again.

Those words played through your mind when it was night and you were trying to sleep, but every time you closed your eyes you were plagued with memories of you and Alexia. The memories were almost like nightmares now, the what could’ve been but now was never going to be a reality.

‘Katie,’ You whispered, slowly opening the door to her bedroom.

‘What’s up lil mac?’ Katie whispered, with a small smile at the nickname she’d given you, but the smile fell when she took in the state of you.

‘I-I don’t wanna be alone,’ Your voice is small, eyes glazed over, tears threatening to fall and a permanent frown etched onto your face. Nervously playing with your fingers, almost ready to apologise for waking your older sister when you knew she had an important match the next day.

‘Come here,’ Katie moved over and lifted the sheets so you could slide in next to her. The moment your head fell against her chest, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. No words were needed between you and Katie, it’s like she just understood you. Wiping your tears away and letting you sleep in her bed with her. She didn’t have to know you’d just had your heart broken for the first time. She didn’t need to know that you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone because it was the first girl you’d secretly dated. Katie never asked questions, just held you and let you sleep in her bed whenever you needed her.

‘I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I close my eyes. Every time I lay in bed and she’s not there next to me,’ You paused, taking a deep breath, ‘There’s this weird, uncomfortable, feeling in my stomach and I don’t know what to do. I feel so alone, I just want Ale but I shouldn’t want her but I do,’

You hadn’t slept much the last few nights while staying with Katie. It was noticeable with the darkening circles under your eyes. Even if towards the end Alexia had almost completely stopped sleeping in the same bed as you, you’d still spent over a year sharing a bed with someone and to know that you’d never share the same one with her had you craving for her touch.

All you wanted was for Alexia to hold you again, to tell you everything was going to be okay, that the two of you were okay. You knew that wasn’t going to happen, but you still wished it would. You wished you would wake up from this nightmare, go back to Barcelona and Alexia would be for you waiting at your apartment. You’d fall into her arms, the ones that always made you feel safe and wanted until they didn’t anymore. Feelings were cruel and you wished for nothing more than to stop feeling, but you couldn’t turn that part of you off, no matter how hard you tried.

‘It’s okay to still want her, even if you feel it isn’t the right thing. You spent a long time together and it’s completely understandable. I know I’m just your sister and I’m not Alexia but you can sleep here so maybe it might help you not feel so alone,’ Katie spoke softly, if you were in a better mood the softness of your sisters voice would be amusing, not realising Katie could make her voice be that soft or quiet, ‘It won’t be easy, but you’re one of the strongest people I know. Plus you got me and we make a good team,’

Katie was right about that. The rest of your week with Katie really helped. Though one week was definitely not enough and you were dreading going back to your apartment in Barcelona. The uneasy feelings of not knowing what you were about to be facing once you returned to the city you have called home for the last three years now. Would Alexia be there? Part of you hoped that she would be, having realised that you were all she needed and ready to apologise for how she’s treated you. The sad part is if she did that, you would take her back in a heartbeat, despite your head telling you no you would listen to what your heart wanted.

But when you arrived back at your apartment you didn’t have to worry about that. The only thing you had to worry about was the way your chest felt unbearably heavy and like a weight had dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Katie had travelled with you to make sure you were okay being back in Barcelona, she didn’t miss the way your body tensed and you froze when you rounded the corner and your front door came into view.

The closer you got you could see the contents of the box that carelessly sat in front of your door. Everything that you had at Alexia’s, including the gifts you had made and bought for her during your relationship. The realisation that your relationship really was over came crashing down over you. Too much for you to handle so Katie picked up the box, opened your apartment door and took care of everything you needed her to do.

You sat down on the couch in the living room while Katie went around getting rid of everything she knew that would remind you of Alexia. A lot of the things were quite obvious, like pictures of you and Alexia all over your apartment, items from the holidays you’d told Katie all about and hoodies and barca training gear that definitely wasn’t yours. Katie didn’t fully get rid of it all, instead putting it into a box and hiding it away knowing that you would want to decide the fate of the items when you could think more rationally.

‘Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?’ Katie asked for the millionth time before she had to leave you to go back to London. You rolled your eyes playfully, even though you were dreading going back to training and seeing Alexia for the first time since that night she left, you were feeling better than you were a week ago. You’d smiled the first time again and were joking around with your older sister. Signs that made Katie feel relief, but still worried about leaving you.

‘I’ll do my best, you know that,’ You were genuine. You knew, in the back of your mind, that you weren’t going to crumble and fall apart. There were going to be tough moments, but you had your sister and you had your friends within Barcelona, ‘I promise to call you if I need to, I won’t push you away,’ You were going to be okay and you genuinely believed that.

#alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x y/n #katie mccabe #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #woso

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backtothefanfiction · 4 months ago

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Insecure | Joel Miller Imagine

Prompt: “YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO INSECURE!”

Summary: Being Joel’s- well- whatever you are, isn’t easy.

Warnings: ANGST!!!

A/N- just a quick one before bed to keep me in the habit… and I just needed to write something angsty. A bit open ended, but yeah, hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to give feedback and reblog if you like!

Joel was handsome- you knew that. Had always known that. Heck you had wanted to jump his bones the very first time you saw him. So you understood when women, girls and sometimes even other guys did a double take or just stared at him. But it was like he was oblivious to it.

You had been travelling and working with him for 7 months now and no matter what town, city or QZ you dropped into, it was the same fucking story. He’d walk in all swagger, some dickhead would feel threatened because Joel turned his girl’s eye. They’d end up in a fight and he’d get you both kicked out because he was both too ignorant or stubborn to just concede. He’d then get frustrated and go take it out on something- hunting game or punching things or if that still didn’t work jacking off in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.

2 months into it you had gotten drunk with him in some cabin in the middle of nowhere that thankfully still had a stash of liquor hiding under the kitchen sink. With a little liquid courage you had drunkenly admitted you’d heard him on those nights. You had teased him and offered to help if he wanted it. You should have just kept your mouth shut, shouldn’t have offered anything because Joel really was oblivious. He thought it was just sex. A way for you to both blow off some steam at the end of the fucking world. But for you… well… it was everything.

Even when you got back home, on those particularly tough days, he sought you out. You would fuck and talk until you both fell asleep. He seemed to smile more around you. Open up to you about the past. But where you thought you had a growing relationship, he just thought you were a good friend. Because at the end of the day, if it’s not clearly spelt out for him, Joel won’t see it… Or maybe he does, he just refuses to acknowledge it- and that just makes it worse. Especially when he starts coming to you for other stuff.

He would come to you for dinner. And you would play the happy little housewife role too; laying the table, learning his favourites so you could cook them for him. If he got hurt for any reason, it was you and your first aid kit he would come to, to patch him up.

He would invite you to other peoples gatherings as his plus one. He moved some of his stuff into one of the drawers in your dresser. For all intents and purposes you were a couple… but you weren’t- and he always made that abundantly clear when others asked.

“So how long have you two been together now?” Tess had asked over dinner.

“Oh we’re not together.” He had hastily said before shoving another forkful of food quickly into his mouth, not even sparing you a second glance.

But Tess saw it. She saw the way the light dimmed in your eyes when he said it. Saw how distant you became. After all this time, he still wouldn’t call it what it was.

The three of you ate in uncomfortable silence after that, but he seemed none the wiser. He didn’t see the looks of pity Tess shot your way. Didn’t see the apology in her eyes as she left.

“Did I do something wrong?” He finally asked, breaking the silence as you began clearing plates off the table, scraping the scraps into the bin, before placing them into the sink.

At his words, you wished you had the luxury of being dramatic, throwing down the plates and smashing them, but resources were scarce enough as it was. Not to mention you’d just have to clean up all the pieces when he inevitably left to avoid this conversation. But all your anger and frustration was still there, bubbling up under the surface like a pot of boiling water, just waiting to simmer over. “No, Joel.” You seethed under your breath, trying to keep a lid on it, but you had sat too long in the silence just thinking about it all- realising how silly you had been to even think someone like him would actually want to be with you.

“Really, Darlin’, because it feels like-“

“JUST STOP!” You said, dropping the glasses into the sink on top of the plates with a clatter, your hands flying into the air searching for some sort of mercy. “Please stop!” You said again, forcing yourself to breath and take a moment and try as much as you could to keep your cool, because you knew him. You knew the moment he heard you raise your voice or get stressed with him, he’d just shut down and check out.

“Stop what?” He tried to say confused, which only made your blood simmer more.

You took in a deep breath and counted to five inside your head before you spoke. “Why did you have to say that?”

“Say what? Darlin’ I’m so fucking confused right-“

“No.” You said, shutting him down, willing him to think, to listen, to see- for once in his life. “Why did you say that in front of Tess.”

“Say what?” He asked again confused. His foot began to tap on the floorboards as he began to feed off your energy, himself growing equally as irritated as you.

“That we weren’t together.”

“Because we’re not.” He said bluntly.

“Really?!” You asked exasperatedly.

“Yes, really!”

“Joel, you practically live here. We do everything together. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry. WE SLEEP TOGETHER!”

“You offered all those things!” He stressed.

“Oh my god! How do you not see it?!”

“See what?!” He retorted.

“You invite me to places as your plus one.”

“Yeah, because we’re friends.”

“Oh my GOD!” You sighed, your hand running through your hair as you turned away from him, unable to look at his face. “YOU KNOW, YOU MAKE ME SO INSECURE!” You shouted at him as you sharply turned back to face him. “I literally put myself out there for you, every- single- day- and it’s still never enough. What is it Joel? Am I just not good enough for that?”

“We’re just us, why do you want to put a label on that?”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” You screamed at him.

It was like detonating a bomb. His face was a picture. He really hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t wanted to see it.

“You think I did all this for you, just because we were friends?” You asked him, when the silence between you grew too much.

When he remained silent, you sighed in defeat and turned back to the sink. You rested your hands against the cold porcelain, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. This was it. You’d lost him, you were sure of it. Any second now he’d say he was gonna grab his things and go and that would be it. Unwilling to face a goodbye, you reached for the tap and turned it on.

You didn’t hear his footsteps move closer to you over the sound of the running water. When his hand reached past you to turn off the tap, it made your blood run cold.

“No.” He finally said into the silence. “No, I didn’t think you did all those things just because we were friends.” He sighed. “I just… after Sarah’s mom- and then everything that happened to Sarah- I just…” His voice kept trailing off, unable to find his words. His hand reached to rest over yours on the edge of the sink, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “I was just so scared about getting attached. If I put a label to my own feelings, it’d just feel worse when it’s inevitably snatched away from me again.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to work out what he was saying. He sighed as he hung his head, unable to meet your eyes, his own guilt and shame weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He eventually said. “I’m sorry that I made you feel insecure, or like I don’t appreciate everything that you do.” He said, his eyes slowly lifting to find yours again. “I never meant to make you feel like that. You are enough- more- than enough, I’d be nothing without you.” He quietly confessed. “I’d still be picking fights and killing guys and beating one out in frustration most nights. Barely eating. Wearing the same flannel and pair of jeans for he fifth day in a row… I’m sorry- okay… I’m sorry.” He said and his words began to make you soften, your body leaning further into him. “But I still can’t put a label on this.” He said; and your face fell.

You took a moment- you breathed deeply. One, two, three.

“Okay.” You conceded.

“Okay?” He questioned.

It wasn’t the answer you were looking for- the outcome you had been hoping for- but for him… it was close enough. “Okay.” You confirmed,

“Okay.” He slowly nodded and agreed. “I’ll do these.” He offered, nudging you out of the way of the sink.

“Okay.” You quietly agreed again…. But only time would tell if it was really okay… or if this fight was just on hold for another day.

#joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #Joel miller #angst #open ended

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junislqve · 6 months ago

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ᯓ 50 first dates — heeseung

“cursed with the gift of memories”

syn well-known for his charm and charisma, lee heeseung’s name travels through well with tourists. giving them the best dates and nights of their life. heeseung’s strictly only into one nights stands, running away from commitment even before it was there to chase him. however, his life changed completely when his eyes fell upon a woman. a woman who he knows he could never get. but that has never stopped him, hasn’t it?

feat. hyung line yeji (itzy) hyunjin (skz) | wc 5901 words

pairs fuckboy!heeseung + reader | cw s2l one sided pining? fuckboy turned sweet angst fluff smoking drinking mentions of hook ups mentions of an accident memory loss profanity — mlist navi

note entry for @cupidhoons ’s 1k event >< i tweaked a few things here and there, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless

“he’s incredible” she says, grabbing her mojito from the bartender. looking back to her friend, “he’s got these eyes that just hold a mischievous look, you know?”

“so? what else happened that night?” another guy asked his friend as she was running on the treadmill.

“we had dinner at this small restaurant and we talked about our lives. it was just like a movie” a woman said as she recalled the night, chatting off while writing her thesis.

“was that all?” a girl’s sister asks while both of them were getting ready for a party.

“we had the best night, he’s so sweet and caring and everything i ever want in a man” a woman said to the worker who was massaging her.

“did you get his number?” her friend asked while handing her a cup of coffee.

“thats the thing” she said, eating lunch at a restaurant. “when i asked for his number he told me he had a girlfriend”

“what’s his name?” her manager asks handing her the new papers.

“lee heeseung”

all over, dozens of women have the same story to tell of the same man. lee heeseung. his charm goes around that has tons of tourists falling head over heels for him.

although really, the charm only consists of the same things with each women; talking to them at whatever place he lands in, telling them about his life stories he’s crafted perfectly, and in the end giving them a good night.

he really had no problem with this routine, figuring they’d all leave soon anyway. dismissing any of their attempts to stay in contact with him by making up on the spot excuses.

“seung” jake exasperates, calling him for the nth time. “you in or not?”

puffing out the smoke, he hummed agreeing to whatever they were talking about.

“we’re diving tomorrow, be at the docks at 5 AM” jay says, grabbing the cigarette pack and throwing it on to the table. “sharp.”

“can’t, i have to take care of the dolphins” heeseung sighs.

“can’t you tell your cousin to do it?” sunghoon asks, taking a swig of the whiskey.

“haven’t you seen him?” he says, referring to his coward of a cousin. as the four continue to talk around the slowly dissipating fire.

heeseung woke up the next day tending to his dolphins. feeding them food and watching them as they swim and did tricks. he sat on the docks, letting his feet hang over the edge, patting the dolphins every once in a while if they snuggled his legs.

he got up about half an hour later and headed to one of the local diners in town. a small, dingy house close to where he works. he sat on the bar stool and a girl who looked around his age took the order.

“i’ll just have coffee, thanks”

“seriously? you look like you’d get blown off by the wind” the girl says, “i’ll fix you up a sandwich”

heeseung smiled profusely, confused whether he should be offended or grateful. he skims through the men looking over the unique variety of choices, when the reflection of the sun seems to be hitting him. he looked up to the direction with squinted eyes and he was so glad the sun shined perfectly at him.

to say he was captivated was an understatement. your hair sat down perfectly on your back as you smiled at the menu like it was an interesting book. you set down the spoon you were playing with and the barista walked up to you to take your order.

heeseung’s eyes never left you, entirely too enthralled just by your presence. he decides to make a move, getting up from his spot and sitting across from your seat that’s conveniently vacant. he watched as the barista placed your plate of pancakes in front of you.

“thanks, yeji” you smiled up at her. he can’t tell which was more angelic; your voice or your smile.

you picked up your pancakes and started stacking them, heeseung watched with curiosity. you started off making a mini volcano as the steam from the heat drove up. minutes later, when heeseung’s eyes left you for a while, your volcano had transformed to a house. you continued stacking the bread carefully.

picking up a small piece, you intended for it to be the door to the supposed house. when suddenly, a toothpick drove through them from the top.

“it creates a hinge” someone says. you look up, which appeared to be a wrong move because the man that stood in front of you might’ve just been carved by the gods.

his hair roused messily atop his head and a grin that you swore had your heart clenched. you momentarily freeze up, scanning over your words for a decent reply.

“oh, thanks” you trail off, showing a small smile.

heeseung was about to sit back down at his spot until you braved yourself.

“hey” you pause awkwardly as he turns back to you “i see you’re alone as well, why don’t you sit with me”

heeseung’s grin doubled and he sat down across from you. from then on, heeseung didn’t know what he got himself into all he knows is that your voice was addicting and your smile held the world.

you both had a long conversation about your lives. he told you about his work in wildlife as a marine veterinarian, tending to the dolphins mostly. and you told him about your work as an art teacher in a school nearby.

you listened intently, thoroughly interested in his job, “my dad works as a fisherman”

“oh really? so you know how to fish” heeseung perked up.

“no, i’ve never really been interested in it” you replied, “but i’m used to the smell of the sea, you reek of it”

heeseung scoffed playfully, “i know, i just went back from feeding the dolphins. probably should have cleaned myself up before”

“no!” you exclaimed trying to fix your tone, “i didn’t mean it in a bad way. you smell nice, like the scent of the sea, it’s kind of nostalgic”

“really?” heeseung looks at you, eyes widened in that adorable way. god, he looks so good. you nodded with a smile that stretched perfectly on your lips. “you should come and meet the dolphins some time”

your eyes lit up, “oh i would love to, how many do you tend to?”

before heeseung could answer, yeji stopped him by telling you both off as they’d have to pack up for lunch.

you both walked out of the diner leisurely when heeseung turned to you, “hey, do you want to continue this somewhere else? i have a nice place we can go to”

“oh” you let out, whilst scrunching your face “i'm so sorry but today’s my dad’s birthday and we usually drive out to the field. it’s our tradition”

“well then how about next time?” he asked, tilting his head.

“how about tomorrow? meet me here for breakfast?” you offered.

“tomorrow then”

rain poured teardrops in a continuous rythmn, the wind blowing harshly. a figure disrupted the pattern as heeseung went in the diner and dropped himself on the bar stool, greeting yeji. and waving at the guy in the back, who’s face always looked sour whenever he looked at heeseung.

“the bar’s closed” hyunjin, who he now knows as yeji’s brother said blatantly. heeseung shrugged at the customer that was sitting on one of the sofas and shined a sly grin at him, receiving an eye roll back.

the door opened once more and you walked in, heeseung watched as you sat down and dropped your jacket beside you.

he stood up and walked to your seat, “hey pretty, missed me yet?”

you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, “no?” you said, before going back to read the menu.

heeseung stared at you dumbfounded, “hey, are you okay? you said you wanted to meet up again yesterday”

“yesterday? i’ve never even met you” you scrunched your nose as heeseung stood still in confusion, his mind reeling.

in a spur, heeseung got dragged by his collar and out of the diner. the door behind him slammed shut, he turned to see yeji stared at him menacingly.

“what’s wrong? why’s she..” he trailed off.

yeji clicked her tongue, sighing, “she isn’t what you think she is” heeseung waited, breathing heavily, the humid air made it difficult to breathe.

“about a year ago, y/n got into a terrible car accident. she and her father went up North Shore to grab fruits as tradition” yeji continued, “her father broke some ribs, but she had a serious head injury”

yeji looked away and stared off into the rain “she’s suffering short-term memory loss” yeji concluded. heeseung apparently had a hard time understanding all of this, none of the information thrown at him clicking right yet.

“wait, so she can’t remember anything?”

“no you dumbass, she remembers everything up until the night before the accident”

both of them stayed silent.

“so what? she thinks everyday is the day of her dad’s birthday?”

“exactly” yeji states, “she wakes up everyday thinking it’s the same day, her father’s provided her with a special paper that he’s printed over a hundred times for her to read”

“he’s been keeping her in the dark?”

“it’s not like that. she’s been through a lot already and her father doesn’t want her to suffer anymore” yeji scolds. “so if you don’t mind, i need you to stop bothering her. find another person to bother”

“how long’s it gonna take for her to gain back her memory?” jake asks, laying on his back staring up at the night sky.

“her doctors say it may never come back” heeseung says, throwing in food for the dolphins.

“so, basically” jake starts looking down at his friend, “she’s perfect for you”

“what?”

“you’ve never been into commitment” jake shrugs, “there’s practically no attachment there”

heeseung stays silent. jake raised his eyebrows, “don’t tell me you’re falling for her”

he slapped his friend’s leg, “i’m not” he says, “it’s just evil”

“you meet her, hang out, flirt, no commitment, nobody gets hurt”

“she has brain damage, you douche”

“you sure that’s the only reason?”

once again, heeseung stays silent. he can’t lie. he knows that he felt, if anything, the tiniest bit of care for you. spending too much time awake thinking about you more than he should’ve.

“i mean, either way, i think this’ll be good for you” jake starts, his eyes scanned the stars one by one, “you haven’t really let yourself connect with a girl”

“oh so now you care?” heeseung asks, rather jokingly.

“i want the best for you, seung. you’re leaving soon for university, the choice is really yours in the end” jake says, finally sitting up and looking at his friend with sincerity.

“thanks” hee mumbled as jake stood up to get off the ship, patting him on the back while doing so.

“you should get some sleep, you’d need energy to get her back”

heeseung stared at the back of jake’s retreating figure. they’ve been friends for years now, being the closest out of the four. always being a helping hand for the other whenever any of them were in need.

“you again?” hyunjin rolled his eyes about to grab a stick.

“relax, i just want to say hi to her” heeseung says, holding a hand out in defence.

“what did yeji say?”

“that you’d kill me with an axe” heeseung trailed off. “but, hey, look i really just want to talk to her again”

“she doesn’t want guys hitting on her during breakfast” hyunjin said, plainly.

“want to bet on that? 20 bucks” apparently the world was on his favor when hyunjin decides to shake his hand.

“deal”

heeseung spots you on your usual seat, building a house out of your pancakes. he decides its better to play safe, picking up a toothpick, walking to your seat.

“it acts as a hinge” he says, smiling.

“are you from a country where you think it’s okay to stick your fingers all over someone’s food?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“uhm, no, i’m from this country” he starts and after seeing your expression, all of the lines he’d planned out got caught on his tongue, “well, have a good meal”

hyunjin cackled at his attempts and heeseung doubled the price for the next day, determined to get you to have breakfast with him again. that’s how it went on for days, heeseung kept doubling the price at his failed attempts. yeji not really helping as she scowled at him everyday while hyunjin doubled over in laughter.

one of those days, heeseung realizes he really has nothing else to loose, except for his dignity. so that is exactly what he did. heeseung started sobbing in the middle of the diner, weird looks thrown at him.

when you suddenly sat beside him and spoke in the softest voice, he almost melted right then and there. but he pushed through with the acting, still sobbing nonetheless of you trying to calm him down. finally, he got succeeded in getting you to have breakfast with him once again. under the excuse that he couldn’t read.

you both talked all throughout the day, teaching him how to pronounce certain words, reading off the menu and enunciating each syllable. he found it quite endearing that you were so patient given the ridiculous situation.

“i had a great time” you said as you both walked out of the diner.

“yeah, so did i” heeseung smiles. he was about to say something else, but stopped. figuring it was better to go one step at a time, he turned to go get in his car when you scoffed.

“seriously? thats all? you know i thought that if someone would embarrass themselves just to talk to me they would at least ask for my number” you say, turning on the engine and start to pull out of the park.

heeseung, panicked, quickly got in his car to drive after you and apologise. afraid that he would cause problems. and that is how he led himself to this moment; getting told off by your father and almost getting beaten up by your brother.

your father had told him to lose contact with you. that he was to not go to the diner anymore and leave you alone.

now if there’s anything to know about heeseung, it’s that he takes an advice and let it go out the other ear — with the exception of his own grandma, he’s terrified of her — and second, he will never give up on anything. so, he left no time for sulking as the next day he had a brand new conception.

he knew there was no way he could ever talk to you in the diner under the watchful eyes of both yeji and hyunjin. so, learning your daily schedule, heeseung decides to stop at a part of your drive and pretended as if his truck broke down.

“hey, i’m so sorry. can you give me a lift?” heeseung awkwardly smiled as you slowly stopped right in front of his car. a concerned look on your face.

“yeah, of course” you say, getting out of your car to help attach his to yours.

with that, he’s made up a variety of reasons to stop you on your way. most days interacting with you than not. he was so determined to talk to you, his excuses ranged from being kidnapped to getting beaten by who you assumed was a random man.

the plans were carefully thought of, daily. he spent much time creating up random scenarios that were severe enough for you to spare him some time and talk to him.

he really should’ve seen it coming. because one day, your car wasn’t the one approaching, rather, another car. as it came closer he realized your father and brother were sat on the front seats and he sat up from the position he took on the ground.

“once you stop pretending to look dead, come by the house”

now he’s once again stood in the lawns of your house. he expected your dad to tell him to stop meeting you or restrict him further, but all he did was just talk to him.

your dad hesitantly told him how happy you were going about your day and how it only ever happens whenever you had an interaction with him.

“i can stop you from seeing my daughter” your father pauses, “but i can’t stop her from seeing you if that’s what makes her happy”

the weight of his words flowed through the air as your voice tunes in from the garage. painting away your garage whilst singing a song you know so well.

“let me get this straight” jake says, “you’ve been trying to talk to her everyday, making up dozens of excuses, doing random things just so she would talk to you?”

“well if you word it like that, it sounds sad”

“so you’re basically trying to get her to fall in love with you, every single day”

“not always” heeseung trails off, “it’s complicated”

“sure” jake says, taking out his pack of cigarettes. “want one?”

heeseung shook his head, back in thought.

“you haven’t been smoking lately” jake ponders. “is it because of that girl?”

jake said it as a joke, fully expecting his friend to slap him or dismiss it all. but he was proved wrong when heeseung stared right at him and nodded.

“she’s been through enough, i don’t want her to have lung problems just because i can’t leave her alone”

jake whistled low at the statement.

“besides, it’s bad for your lungs, you should stop too”

“i don’t smoke as much as you did” jake retorts, putting back the blunt in the pack. figuring it was boring to smoke alone.

“i never expected you’d do things like this”

“you think i’m heartless”

“not when you used to shit your pants from a ghost story” jake laughs and so did heeseung, hitting his friend on the back. jake looked to his friend, curious.

“do you like her?”

“what do you think?”

“personally?” jake stops, “i think you’re in love with her”

a part of him wanted to deny that, he used to be afraid of commitment after all. but now the prospect of not having any commitment with you kind of scares him. he can’t have commitment with you, literally and figuratively. how could he when you can’t remember who he is everytime you wake up.

like jake said; no strings attached. except, this time he was the at the receiving end and he couldn’t do anything about it.

attempting for the last time to talk to you at the diner, heeseung knew he would fail. he thought he’d done terribly at flirting with you when you screamed a loud ‘no’.

but when you quickly grabbed your jacket and walked out, he followed suit. yeji and hyunjin alarmed as well, walking out of the diner.

the police was about to place a ticket on your car, it was overdue.

“the tags don’t expire until next year”

“it expires May of this year, maam” the police officer said.

“no! it expires may of next-“ you stop after looking at the date of a newspaper that someone was holding.

in a rush, you look around for your car and got in. driving back home confused and aggravated, you have no idea what’s happening.

in the end, you’ve spiraled into this deep hole of reality after your father, quite hesitantly, revealed everything. he told you the whole story; the car accident, what your dad has done, and — to heeseung’s surprise — what heeseung has been doing for the past few months.

sitting on the front steps of your house, flipping through the book filled with newspapers and clippings from your accident, everyone waited around you. your father ready with answers if you if you had any questions or needed any support.

what no one expected was for you to say you wanted to talk to heeseung, alone. heeseung himself was quite shocked, and scared to be faie. he thought out of anyone, you wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. rather hesitant, your father and brother walked in the house to give you space.

the silence was unbearable, for heeseung anyway. you stared front out to the grassy field. it was a beautiful afternoon if not for the situation you were in right now.

“so, um” heeseung cleared his throat rather awkwardly.

“i’m sorry”

he waits for you to continue, but alas you never did. heeseung looks at you, his brows furrowed.

“what for?”

“you’re the only person i can never remember when i wake up” you say, stretching out your legs and observing them instead.

heeseung looked at you — or rather admired you. he can’t believe even in a situation as this, he still find it in himself to fawn over you. you looked so ethereal under the small rays of the sun.

“it’s alright” hee said, slowly smiling as he looked away from you and off to the wide land. “not like you can help it”

“how are you fine with all this?” this time, you were the one facing him, gosh how could he still keep on that god awful, handsome smile on when he’s practically been rejected multiple times?

“just because” he replies, his smile widening. heeseung feels as if he’s gone mad, absolutely batshit insane. he can’t tell why he’s smiling so brightly right now, maybe it’s because of the fact that he’s having a conversation with you again, or maybe it’s because of how cute you sounded like when you’re concerned for him.

“you’re okay with” you pause, carefully choosing the right words “trying to make me fall in love with you every single day?” you say this slowly, enunciating each syllable hoping you’d say it in a way that didn’t seem weird or self-centered.

“what if i say i am?” you were caught off guard when heeseung’s face turned to you. you hadn’t really noticed your proximity until now. his nose was barely grazing yours and you could see his eyes up close, has it always been that pretty?

you gulp. because how can you not? lee heeseung is inches away from your face and he has the most adorable expression anyone could’ve ever seen. an expression no one’s ever seen except for you. his pupils dilated, hair messy from the wind, cheeks a rosy color and a small grin to top it all off.

“why?”

“want me to show you why?” he says. your heart pounded too loud and out of the sheer fear of him being able to hear it, you looked away. heeseung chuckled and blinked, his eyes wandering back to the field.

“i have to get back” heeseung says standing up, “tell me if you ever need anything” you finally dared yourself to look up at him. it didn’t matter anyway as heeseung walked off and got into his car. flashing that smile of his once more before pulling out of the driveway.

you went in your house after watching his car get further and further, lost in your own thought. when you walk up to your room, a small box covered with wrapping paper is placed on top of your bed.

opening it carefully, you opened the box to see a disc titled “to y/n”. out of curiosity, you ran down to the living room’s television and insert it into the dvd player.

sitting down on the sofa, you waited as the video started to play. the tunes of your favorite song hummed in as heeseung came into view.

“hi, heeseung here” he starts saying, the camera pans to two people in the background that was making heart poses and kissy faces. “yo guys stop”

the guys in the back laughed silently and the camera focused back on heeseung, his smile back on display.

“if you’re watching this, y/n. i want to tell you a bit of a background story first” heeseung stops, and grabs something from below “you got into a car accident about a year ago”

the camera focused on the newspaper clipping of her accident, “and now you can’t remember me, even if i try to talk to you everyday”

the person behind the camera snorted and heeseung threw a dirty look to whoever.

“but it’s okay, because now i’ll show you what’s been happening so you can watch this everyday” hee stands up from the sofa and sits down on his living room chair. the camera zooms out and across him sat one of his friends, you assumed. “this is sunghoon, he’s going to act as you”

the guy named sunghoon waved at the camera, smiling politely. the recording continued on for minutes as heeseung acts out the encounters he’s had with you. sunghoon and his other friend, jay, making faces every once in a while to piss off their friend. your laughs and giggles reverberated through the house walls that has your dad coming in to check on you.

as he watches you from the doorway, listening to your laughs and seeing your big smile, he can’t help but have one of his own. ever since the accident, he really has felt emptiness all over. guilt and so much more emotions plaguing him by day. all he wants is just to watch you be happy all the time and if that’s what heeseung makes you, he couldn’t stop you.

the past few months after that were filled with heeseung getting closer and closer to you as more recordings of you and him were added to the tape.

heeseung told you everything about his life, what and why he works as what he does and how he ended up in hawaii.

in turn, you told him more about the years you’ve had without him and telling him about your late mom. you told him about how she still brings you comfort until today from picking up all the tiny quirks she used to do.

eventually, heeseung grew on you. watching the tape daily and seeing how well he treats you, you really can’t help but fall more and more in love with him.

“no, i love tulips, but i love dandelions as well” you say at the pouting guy in front of you. “these are beautiful, hee”

“you know if you want me to get you another one, i can do it right now” he says, ready to make a run for the shop if you say the word.

“i told you” you took another whiff of the dandelions in exaggeration, “i love dandelions, they’re really pretty”

“okay” he sighs, and the moment you yawn for the nth time of the day, heeseung had you nursed back to bed.

“i’m fine”

“yeah, sure” he says, dismissing your words and grabbing a blanket to cover you. “get some rest, i’ll wake you up this time. i swear”

you squint your eyes at him in warning, “i will!” he says in faux sincerity, letting out a small laugh.

“fine”

heeseung gets up and walks out the door the moment you stopped mumbling. he went down to be greeted by your doctor along with your father and brother in the living room.

they all talked about your health and well-being. and if there was any way your memory would ever be healed — mostly heeseung asked about this. and as much as he hoped, there was close to no chance you would. your head injury was so severe it permanently damaged those parts of your brain.

“are you planning to continue all of this?” your father suddenly asked him, “you have no plans for the future?”

“i’m going to university soon, abroad” heeseung starts. “to continue work as a biologist in alaska”

“ah, well, it’s great you have plans” the doctor replies, patting his back, “i thought you were going to devote your whole life to helping her regain her memories”

heeseung wasn’t the only one silent at this. you were too, although a room away. you couldn’t sleep for long and was about to walk outside when you overheard their conversation about you and didn’t want to make it awkward.

but now, you just realized how dumb you were. you realized how you were basically holding him back from everything. you were being selfish of his time. you blindly liked all of the time he’s spent with you, but you didn’t realize that he too should have a life outside of you.

walking back into your room, you pull out your journal that held all the memories you’ve had with him. you’ve written all of it down. most pages dedicated to him.

“hey” you say walking up to him the next day, as he was feeding the dolphins. journal clutched tightly in one hand.

“hi” heeseung said, pure affection on his voice. you sat down beside him on the docks as he went back to throwing in the food. “i just realized i haven’t introduced you to them. this one’s named lorry”

heeseung says patting the head of the closest dolphin. you closed off your heart, preparing yourself for the worse today. set on one goal. but how can he just sit there and look adorable and somehow all the things you planned to say are down the drains.

“don’t worry, lorry’s one of the nicest ones. compared to the others” heeseung assures, you slowly inched your hands forward to pat the dolphin and it felt soft. lorry snuggled its snout to your palm and dived in the water again to play with its friends.

“heeseung” you say, staring out at the sea, avoiding his eyes at all costs. he hummed, closing up the bag of food before looking at you.

“we should stop seeing each other”

heeseung blinked. once. twice. thrice. he thought people were exaggerating when they said ‘their heart dropped’, but now he understands. he could feel his heart starting to beat uncomfortably, every inch of his body conscious, his mouth felt dry.

“what?”

“i’m not going to hold you back. you can’t just make me fall in love with you everyday, thinking there would be a future for us”

“but what if there is?”

“theres no future with me, seung”

not that nickname. please. you can’t just ask him to stop talking to you and use that nickname on him. it’s not fair. you aren’t being fair. why are you being so weird right now?

“there is!” heeseung exclaims, “i’ll make sure there is. you can watch the tape everyday-“

“it won’t work, hee“

“or i’ll tell you our story-“

“you’ll get bored of it“

“i’ll remind you every morning-“

“that’s impractical“

“or i can stop by your house all the time-“

“stop”

“no, you stop.” heeseung stressed, “i have no problem waking up everyday to talk to you— or, or to remind you of our relationship. i don’t want this to end”

“seung” you sigh, “we can’t make it work and you know that” you picked up the journal beside you and showed it to him.

“i started writing in this journal ever since the day i found out about the accident. and i want to start a new chapter” you look down, “without you in it”

he stayed silent. the waves rippled under the dawning sun. hues of orange contrasted with the sea, reflecting off the colors.

“okay” heeseung says barely above a whisper. you look at him, pretending you didn’t hear him say anything. heeseung stared ahead and cleared his throat. “okay. it was nice knowing you, y/n”

he turned to you with a smile. you don’t know what kind of answer you wanted from him. maybe you half expected for him to continue screaming at you or hell even push you in the water. but for some reason, seeing his strained smile hurt you even more. you were the one who had the idea so why were you the one to slowly regret it?

“glad for you, son” heeseung looked back to see your father walking towards him, your brother following behind.

“sir” heeseung greets, he nodded at your brother. “i’m finally off your back now” he jokes.

your father smiles, “ahh well you weren’t all bad” he says patting heeseung on the back.

heeseung smiles politely. he hesitates to say something, but ultimately thought there was nothing else to loose anyway. “how’s y/n?”

your father looks at him with raised eyebrows, “she’s moved in to the clinic now, teaches people art”

“code 110, flight A30 has opened for boarding, please get in line. i repeat, code 110, flight A30 has opened for boarding, please get in line” the speaker announced.

“that’s my cue” heeseung says, taking his suitcase. “it’s been nice knowing you sir. wished we had more time to talk, you too” heeseung nods at your father and brother. he was about to turn to the gate before a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him.

“before you go, i want you to have this. a parting gift if you will” your father hands him an ipod. your father nods one last time and walks off. leaving heeseung quite confused.

he got in the plane and the moment he sat down, he connected the wires of his earphones in and as the familiar melody whistled in his ears he knows he fucked up.

heeseung hadn’t ever gotten up and left the plane so quick, a few people shouting at him after he bumped into them but he paid no mind. he ran out the airport and called for a cab.

he was jittery the whole ride. he realized how dumb he had been this whole time. he went through all the things you said that day and he didn’t understand why he just let you leave like that. why didn’t he put up more of a fight?

the moment he got down off the cab he ran in to the hospital searching everywhere for you until he found you back in the gardens. watering some flowers and tending to them.

“y/n” heeseung pants, you turn back a bit startled and see him. heeseung slowly walks towards you, taking careful steps one by another. “do you remember me?” he whipers.

he breathes in, your sweet scent filling him up. his face an inch away from yours. he watched as you stared up at him, admiring how the glow of your eyes shifted at every minor movement.

your lips break out into a pretty smile, “how couldn’t i?” and in a spur, your lips were on his. the longing and time that has passed all fused into a moment. heeseung grabs you by your waist to deepen the kiss and giggles from both you and him elicits against each other.

as you break apart for a moment, heeseung mumbles out something that you definitely heard but want to hear him say again.

“i love you” he whispers, “and i’ll continue to for a very long time”

even memories can never erase that feeling. the feeling of being so painfully in love with someone. the feeling of loving lee heeseung.

587 notes · View notes

nxuvillette · 6 months ago

Text

TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL

synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.

❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader

❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.

You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand.

It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?

About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.

Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant.

It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it.

For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet.

He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child.

Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made.

The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier.

“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.

You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink.

Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening.

You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again.

“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?”

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine.

Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.

The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.

“I don’t..” you replied, dryly.

He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”

Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”

Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes.

Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar.

You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.”

The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry, darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”

You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did.

However, you were completely wrong.

That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point.

Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together.

It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day.

You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue.

For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy.

You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning.

You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you.

Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts.

It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you.

It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.

At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.

With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself.

He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case.

However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing.

Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.

Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time.

Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so.

But, he planned on doing it anyway.

All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.

But, was he?

That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you.

You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him.

Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”

“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.

Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.

After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was.

You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”

Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head.

You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.

Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”

His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth.

Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.

“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin.

“Our.. little one.”

Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.

He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes.

“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be.

He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”

A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”

The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #boothill fluff #boothill fanfiction #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr fluff #star rail fluff #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail fanfiction #hsr fanfic

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giamee · 6 months ago

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🫀 )

there's a certain beauty and pain in being with someone carnally, and nothing more than that

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | friends with benefits, more angst than smut, like this is basically all angst no smut lol, kinda short too mb

header art (left to right) by pcrow ; artsquirre ; _sekidesu

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ being in a situationship is all fun and games until u catch feelings fr 😕. anyways. let's go thru that pain in this. lowkey i wanna make a part 2 to this with a happy ending cos im SOFT lmaooo

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ALHAITHAM.

BEING IN... WHATEVER THIS RELATIONSHIP COULD BE CLASSIFIED AS was not good for your mental health. in the past weeks that you and alhaitham had started sleeping together, you had been plunged into one of the worst emotional rollercoasters that you had ever been on.

what didn't help was the way he treated you so differently depending on the setting. you understood not wanting people to know, but did he have to ignore you entirely in public?

he wouldn't even spare you a glance as you walk past each other in the halls, eyes stubbornly trained ahead, leaving you steamrolled in his icy trail. and if you dare to try and talk to him- he'd look at you like you've grown a second head, completely shunning you and walking away as quickly as possible.

but it's a different story behind closed doors- in private, he's the sweetest man alive.

he'll whisper such sweet nothings into your ear, wipe your tears so tenderly with his thumbs like a lover would. he'd prop himself up with an elbow just so that he can gaze into your eyes as he pushes into you, even smiling at you as he watches the way your expression changes.

and the way he kisses you is what really throws you- always with such desperation and urgency, like he needs you in order to breathe when it's quite the opposite. he kisses you like he loves you, and the sensation is dizzying, perplexing when those fantasies are ripped from you in favour of reality.

but you know that you won't ever be his. not properly.

if it was meant to be, he'd at least smile at you as he passed. the more rational parts of your brain screamed at you to call it quits before you're sucked in too deep, but some part of you still held onto the hope that one day he would see you then smile.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 THOMA.

IT TRULY HURT TO REMEMBER THAT you weren't actually dating thoma. it was easy to get fooled- he was a gentleman, making sure to treat you right even when you weren't fucking. he'd make sure that you were okay, and he never kicked you out as soon as it was over.

he'd ask about your day, take interest in you and what you're doing. and arguably, worst of all, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you. the details that blurred the lines defining your relationship seemed like an afterthought, if the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders indicated anything.

you were his, unofficially or not. it only took a glance to be able to tell.

you liked to think that he was yours, too. that you meant something to him- more than just a pastime and a stress reliever.

there were moments where it was easier to believe it- with the way his eyes remain transfixed on you as you writhe in pleasure, cries of his name leaving your lips- his little coos and reassurances buttering you up, having you right in his palm, so pliant and willing for him.

maybe he got off on knowing that he makes you feel good in every sense of the word. seeing you happy acting as some sort of foreplay, all so he can claim you as his in every way except the one that you wanted most.

the urge to tell him how you feel, those three little words that dangle on the tip of your tongue and fight to be freed, are a constant struggle. but something inside you, some sick gut instinct, stopped you from blurting it out every time.

the fear of his reaction- disgust? confusion? kept you uncertain. a part of you would die if he didn't reciprocate your feelings. it was better not to know, and keep living in the make-belief of being his without the label.

you could only hope that you would be proved wrong one day.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WRIOTHESLEY.

DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU COULDN'T HELP BUT crawl back to him every single time. a never-ending cycle- one that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.

both of you knew how it goes. you unblock him, play coy for a few messages before he's telling you to come over. you fuck like it's the last time you ever will- it never is- and then you spend the night.

he'll hold you, play with your hair, even kiss you, and you pretend that it's enough. if you're lucky, he'll even lend you a shirt that smells of him to sleep in.

and this facade is fine- while it lasts. but then you remember why you blocked him in the first place- the forced indifference, his refusal to open up. the way it hurt your heart to be pushed aside.

and then you go and ask him what you mean to him. he'll smile at you without mirth, the both of you knowing how this conversation goes. he doesn't want anything serious. you want more.

and then it's tears, you ripping off his shirt and throwing it back at him, storming out of his place and blocking his number with shaking fingers.

you cry yourself to sleep in your cold and empty bed- already sorely missing the warmth of his body as he holds you close to him in his sleep, whether he's aware of that or not.

and you're fine, you tell yourself. you can live without him. and you do, for a little while. honestly, he's the last thing on your mind as you distract yourself with work or seeing your friends.

but then a lonely night gets the best of you, abd you find your finger hovering over the call button next to his name. and you press it, cursing yourself for doing it.

he picks up at the third ring, voice smug as if he knew you couldn't go much longer without him.

and he's right, unfortunately.

you're already out the door, on the way to his apartment.

𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist

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ldysmfrst · 2 months ago

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American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,980

Work count for Story: 107,440

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.

With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

But what would the rest of the pack think?

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to throw on the breaks.

You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of.

MATED MAN!

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

You could be making this up and reading into things too much. You did that in high school, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them.

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest.

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself.

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha scent you at your packhouse. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scented you, with permission, in your current bedroom, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you in a car.

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman!

Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance. This is Namjoon’s second chance. You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down.

You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason.

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone.

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones.

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant.

You are in a car, for god’s sake.

As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.

Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back.

“Y/n.”

Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need.

Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him.

The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.

“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want scenting but scared of me.”

At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor til now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos.

“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.”

While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation. “What of?”

“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise.

“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”

Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha.

“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time.

“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need.”

Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout.

You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder.

“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna, I was typically the one scenting the others.”

“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.

“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark.

Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present.

Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix.

He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond.

“Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”

“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”

His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.

“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.

Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck.

Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”

“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Add threat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out.

Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”

“Bobat try tonight.”

Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall.

“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was just being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.

“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah. Must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”

This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything.

Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw.

“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.

“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.

Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.

“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve.

Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”

“Cover.”

“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”

The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little.

He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him.

The dominant leader versus the submissive lover. Maybe he can be both?

“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”

“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”

Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.

“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him.

His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happen.”

It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing.

There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your own skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did.

You will lose yourself and not in a good way.

What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?

Control it.

Take the reins and drive the motions.

Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that?

Can you control a Prime Alpha?

“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts.

“Sorry, Alpha.”

Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans.

“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a tang of lemon.

“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.

Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape and angle your body toward him.

“Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”

Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck.

He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going.

Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.

Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.

“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face.

“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”

You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha.

Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him.

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more.

“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, and that changes things.”

Alpha Joon's voice is confused as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul.

The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.

“Don’t move,” you instruct him.

“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face.

Shifting to an angle facing you away from a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.

Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching.

You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist against the seat and guides it to your stomach.

Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now.

Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control.

It feels nerve-racking, but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you?

You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that.

There is nothing wrong with you.

Nada.

You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive hybrid younger men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile.

They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily.

That’s all.

“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”

“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you.

Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place.

“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin.

Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee.

Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.

Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door.

“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chid softly.

“Sorry, Luna. No more. I will follow.”

“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?”

“Yes, Luna.”

Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist.

You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours.

Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin.

Your body automatically responds in a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years.

Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier.

You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”

In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”

“Yes.”

Keeping the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze.

You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private.

However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla.

If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now, which was making his pants very uncomfortable. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.

Buzz Buzz

A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here, however, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”

“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.

Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.

Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”

Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha.

He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”

“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait, why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”

“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon.

Not once has he looked at you during his explanation.

He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him, but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some of the others do, but right now, it is planned.

“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.

He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side.

“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset.

He simply nods. His curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension.

“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.”

He shakes his head, starting to deny any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.

You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.

You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”

Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you.

For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls.

Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every microexpression on your profile.

The second you became connected, it was like your brain went offline.

Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your fronts pressed together, making every breath like a soft caress.

The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feels like nothing you have felt before.

Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with control now, is letting go and basking in the moment. It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.

A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you.

Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”

Those simple words feel like a world of promises.

Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck.

His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief.

Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this.

“Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.

THUD

Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”

It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears.

Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door.

Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.

His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.

“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.

“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say.

Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.”

Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it.

For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?

You don’t know how long you stay there on the floor in a crumbled gown, tacks of mascara dried on your cheeks, and numbness blanketing every inch.

The packhouse is silent. You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now.

With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom. Taking off your heels along the way, leaving there wherever the land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least.

Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks.

There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin.

He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors.

It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it.

You already have ruined enough tonight.

Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.

The Packhouse living room had been set up like a movie theater. After seeing your pictures in the group chat, they all wanted to watch you and Namjoon walk the carpet together. They had popcorn and sodas and cuddled together, waiting and watching.

Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were.

You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha.

It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else.

Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there.

Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you.

“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.

“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says.

Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep-team for events and such.”

“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.

“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.

A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue.

This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”

Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.

“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.

“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen.

Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest at 7 am this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”

Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”

“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’ and so she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”

“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.

Bouncing on his feet, Junngkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”

A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs.

Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to restrict anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl.

“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook.

Everyone knew that logically. Jungkook had heard your restless night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met.

With a growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate.

“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation.

The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations.

The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned.

After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?

“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears now out and drooping low with sadness.

Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.

“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”

Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”

Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by, and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”

“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”

Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines, “Buuut Hyung…”

“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible when it comes to the pack’s nest and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.

“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think it could need more to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.

Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the amount of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge.

“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.

“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha.

Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.

It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.

All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.

It has gotten late, much to the pack's dislike. They wanted to see you in your gown in person, not on a screen and not from yards away. Namjoon had already promised them his date with you would end when you got home.

Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat. While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.

That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window.

It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it in the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night.

However, when some time passed and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side.

Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breaking, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session.

They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you.

THUD

A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee.

Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles away from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time.

“Ow, that was my tail!” Tae screeches.

THUMB

The front door rattles.

“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Tae, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae is cursing in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.

Jimin was restless. He knew the boys had heard his mistake, not that he was the only one to blame, but he was still worried. He was worried that what happened ruined your night with Namjoon.

Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed.

That wasn’t acceptable.

He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down.

However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them til now?

Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?

What does he do now?

With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you?

Why had you just crumpled at the door?

Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much?

Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears.

He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.

Nearly two hours later, he hears movement from your room, which startles Jimin. He thought maybe you had fallen asleep against the door. Watching the shadows play along the floor, he can tell you to get up and go farther into the room.

Should he knock now?

What are you doing?

Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?

After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.

Where are you going?

What’s on the other side of the room?

At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door.

He will fix this.

He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.

Evil cackling laughter is heard before the voice says, “Filthy mongrel, tear it down before someone sees.”

“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.

You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”

Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier than a blow-up doll and warmer, too. "

Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”

“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”

“Meemaw! No, let me out please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.

“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.

That’s when the pain starts.

You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.

“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.

“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having.

Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide and unseeing what is around you causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger.

It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face.

“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket.

“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”

Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or the both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit properly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.

“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt.

“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?”

“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come. They usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off: “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through them without us helping you.”

He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan together. I already explained some to Namjoon but…”

“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense but can I ask you a question?”

Sitting up more, pulling slightly out of his hold, you get held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially.

“What is your question?”

You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”

“The nest?”

Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”

Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.

Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”

“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely.” Looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.

“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house.

It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.

A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect you, hold you, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”

Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip.

Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can ask questions and unpack this new information.

“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.

“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each of Bangtan contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?”

Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think…”

“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.

Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”

Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, then I could see you saying that, but…”

“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”

You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.

“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness.

You can say no, but is it improper to say no?

You can say no, but will you always say no?

You can say no, but did you want to say no?

With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No.

No, it's not improper to say no.

No, you won’t always say no.

No, you want to say yes.

“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.

Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you.

Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.

Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand in yours and settles it between you. The breath you had been unknowingly holding releases, and you breathed in the pack again, but this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent.

“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin.

You blush this time at the name Naekkeo; Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline.

“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look.

You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out just how to tell you enough but not too much.

“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning. PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”

You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.

“We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.

“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.

“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”

You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.

Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.

“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”

Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what it is during this time.

“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”

The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy.

You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.

Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.

Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.

Maybe you don’t trust– you.

God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy.

Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles.

“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares, my ex, and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”

The red panda barks pleasedly, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.

It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest.

“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.

Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face in his palm, drawing your eyes to his. “You can ask me anything.”

“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”

“May I answer before you decide for me?”

“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”

“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”

That paused you… Where did you want him?

Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin started trying to hold in his laughter.

Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options.

“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and are the protector-ish one between us so maybe where you are now, between the door and I. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse but on principle,” you stammer out.

“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”

Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”

Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and in turn warm you.”

Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, “I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.

“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. Umm… so you can be under them if you want.”

Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.

Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”

Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window.

“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind.”

“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t much more. Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”

“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment.

You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours: “Is this okay?”

“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you.

“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal.

Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues.

Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.

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pers1st · 9 months ago

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kiss me, try to fix it - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia putellas x lioness!reader

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst (like you guys wanted, i hope)

notes: this is pretty much just a blurb but i do have a pt2 in mind if you guys wanted it? lmk :)

Alexia awoke to a distant noise of things being thrown and landing on the carpet of your hotel room with soft thuds.

You knew that she would have a banging headache, that she would be full nausea and regret in her stomach, but you didn't bother to be quiet as you packed your things with anger cursing through your veins.

The plan for this morning had been to mend your girlfriend's hangover. Alexia wasn't a drinker and you had been shocked when you'd first seen Ona's story, which showed Alexia happily sipping on whatever alcoholic drink. Another thing about your girlfriend, however, was that she didn't do things halfheartedly, and so you had promised her yesterday, via very confusing, drunken text messages, that the rest of the Spanish girls should get her to England's hotel so that you would be able to soothe her in the morning, hold her hair, massage her scalp - whatever she needed.

Now though, the plan had changed. When you had seen those pictures surfacing on Twitter, half asleep, of Alexia kissing Jenni during their party, you had practically jumped away from your girlfriend's sleeping body. You had looked at her for a bit, mesmerized by her beauty even when her makeup was slowly coming off, staining the white pillow, her hair disheveled and her snores far from pleasant. Then, the realization had kicked in. Alexia had cheated on you. The Alexia who was so full of love for you, who was so soft for you and no one else - the Alexia who had promised to never hurt you had cheated on you. That's when the throwing had begun.

"Amor? What are you doing?", she mumbled into her pillow, eyes barely open. You huffed. Of course, she was confused. She hadn't expected you to know. The fact that she had even had the nerves to climb into your bed and snuggle up to you after what she'd done-

This Alexia, she wasn't the Alexia you knew.

"I'm leaving", you chuckled in disbelief. She couldn't possibly be surprised at this, could she?

Despite your desperate attempts to compose yourself, tears were dwelling in your eyes. How had the woman you'd loved for so many years just... crushed your relationship in her fists? Did you mean nothing to her?

Just a few hours prior to her infidelity, she'd been on the pitch with you, comforting you as best as she could after your dream of the World Cup trophy had slipped through your fingers. She'd held you as tears washed down your face, rocked you back and forth as you'd tried to catch your breath, she had asked you to swap shirts, dressing you in the fabric she'd just won the World Cup in, just because her perfume from before the match still lingered somewhere beneath her sweat and tears, knowing that it would bring you comfort.

And then, when you had turned down her offer to come to the afterparty, wanting nothing more than to be with your fellow lionesses as you dealt with the night's loss, she had gone to kiss her best friend. She had gone to ruin your relationship - your happiness, all the while wearing your England shirt, your number, your last name on her back.

It left you wondering. Had you ever meant anything to her?

You halted in your moves for a second, desperate to blink away the tears threatening to escape. Alexia moved from the bed, rubbing her eyes in confusion, crouching down beside you. Her hand landed on your shoulder, but you shook it away as though it burned your skin through the fabric of the Spanish jersey. At the realization that you were still wearing it, you stood up, pulling yourself out of the shirt and throwing at her angrily. All the while, Alexia stood, watching you in disbelief.

"Amor, what is going on?"

"Don't call me that!", you yelled back at her, grabbing the next best shirt you could find from your almost packed suitcase and tugging it on.

"Hey, whatever it is, we can fix it!", Alexia pleaded, her hand landing on your chin as you stared at the carpet beneath you. You allowed yourself to melt into her touch just this once, wanting nothing more than to dwell in her comfort, to let her hold you once more, to hear all of her excuses and just forgive her, because that was the easy thing to do. Her other hand cupped the other side of your face, gently lifting it for you to stare into her eyes. The only emotion you could read in the soft green was love.

Slowly, she inched closer towards you until her soft lips landed on yours. The taste of alcohol lingered, along with that of toothpaste. It almost made you chuckle. Had the girls made Alexia brush her teeth last night? Just after-

When you realized whom these lips had kissed last night, you pulled away.

"Ale, what the fuck?!", you yelled, and allowed the tears to fall this once. She was making your head spin. Dumbfounded, the both of you stood staring at each other, Alexia's hands retrieving from your cheeks immediately.

"Amor, what is going on?"

You barely noticed the way that Alexia actually didn't have a clue of what you were on about, to blinded by fury to realize her confused expression, her genuine worry, the fact that there wasn't a trace of guilt.

"Don't call me that!", you yelled once more, but it came out as more of a plea. You weren't one to beg in arguments, but you knew that if she kept this facade up, if she kept this close to you, if she kept telling you how the two of you could fix this, you would actually believe her, melt into her touch, do whatever she asked of you. You would take the easy route, because it meant staying with Alexia. Staying with the woman you loved more than yourself. But you couldn't. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you deserved better.

So, you packed your last things together, not bothering to pack the jersey of your first tournament final as England captain, knowing Alexia had stained it with infidelity, possibly the only mark your washing machine couldn't ever get rid of, and left her there- confused, hurt, possibly angered at your lack of explanation. But it didn't matter to you. It was early still, but you banged the door closed, only to find Lucy standing in the hallway.

"What's all this yelling about?", she mumbled, still dressed in her pajamas. When she noticed your packed luggage and the pained expression on your face, her expression changed from annoyed to-

Pity.

That was all it took for you to break down in her arms.

#woso imagine #woso one shot #woso writer #barcelona femeni #barca femeni x reader #barca women #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alecia putellas one shot

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suugarbabe · 5 days ago

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Origin Stories

(part 2)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, baby matty, draco being an asshole even at 11

an: thank you @musingsofahufflepuff for reviewing and editing with me. lysm <3

Sleep did not come in the form of rest for Mattheo that night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw your face twisted in disgust, a variation of the same sentence leaving your mouth, “They told me the truth about you. You’re going to be just like your father. Nothing but a murderer. Don’t ever talk to me again Mattheo.” He woke up in a sheen of sweat, panting and trying to catch his breath.

Each intake of air felt like his lungs were shrinking; he grasped at his sleep shirt trying to feel if his heart was truly beating as quickly as it felt in his throat. The clock on his bedside table read 3:45am. Throwing back his duvet he slipped on his house loafers, glad that Feindre convinced him to take them to school. He made his way from his dorm and across the metal bridge that led to the common room.

He looked around the expansive common room, deciding on a lounge chair in front of the fire. Mattheo curled in on himself, sitting sideways in the chair and pulling his knees up. He laid his head against the back of the chair, doing his best to breathe deeply and focus on the crackling of the fire. What finally let him fall asleep was thinking about the train ride with you.

A shaking of his shoulders jolted him awake, “Andiamo, amico.” (C’mon, mate) He snapped his head up, seeing Theo Nott and Enzo Berkshire standing behind the chair. Enzo wore a toothy grin, his ears slightly peeking out from his hair; Theo almost looked concerned. Mattheo pulled the blanket tighter to his chin, though he didn’t remember having it when he fell asleep.

Theo must’ve seen his confused look, speaking up again, “I noticed you weren’t in bed when I woke up to use the bathroom last night so I brought you down your covers.” Enzo nodded like he was involved with the interaction, “You should probably go get dressed, we’re going to go to breakfast and then explore the castle to see where our lessons are.”

Mattheo still didn’t speak, instead looking briefly between the two boys. “We’ll wait for you compagno,” Theo sat down on the sofa next to Mattheo’s chair. Enzo nodded enthusiastically, following suit and sitting beside the taller boy. Mattheo silently gathered his blanket, making his way to his dorm.

He threw his blanket back on his bed before heading to his trunk, digging for a pair of trousers and casual shirt. Students had two free days to roam the castle and the grounds before classes were to begin and Mattheo decided he was going to take full advantage of not having to wear a uniform.

The door to the bathroom opened, Draco walking out and fixing his dress shirt in his trousers. He glanced at Mattheo as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, running both hands through his curls to fluff them slightly. Mattheo could hear the sneer in Draco’s tone as he spoke, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Mattheo didn’t even give him a glance, “Do you have a problem with what I’m wearing, cousin?” Draco let out an annoyed sigh, “Auntie Bella would kill you if she saw you in that.” Mattheo grabbed his wand from his night stand, grip knuckle white but avoiding actually pointing it at his family member, “Well my mother isn’t here, is she.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Whatever, let’s just go to breakfast. Theo and Enzo are already there.” Mattheo didn’t bother to tell him they were waiting downstairs. He personally wasn’t sure if they were doing it to be nice or if they were just trying to stay on Mattheo’s good side.

It was hard for him to assess who was being genuine with him versus who was trying to placate him due to his “title”. He didn’t get that feeling with you.

Mattheo followed Draco toward the common room, Theo and Enzo still sitting on the sofa where Mattheo left them. “Thought you two were headed to breakfast,” Draco questioned the soon to be dynamic duo on the sofa. “Waitin’ for Matt,” Theo nodded briefly towards Mattheo who couldn’t explain why his cheeks were warming slightly. “Yeah, Blaisey boy is saving us a spot,” Enzo gave a boyish grin.

“You know he’d curse you if he heard you call him that,” Theo fixed the strings on his tracksuit as they started towards the great hall. Enzo shrugged his shoulders, “That’s what his mum called him on the platform. And he can’t curse me, he doesn’t know any yet.”

Mattheo never knew how to interact with the back and forth. Never quite felt comfortable with joking with the rest of the boys growing up because his mother always told him that they were not his friends, they were his future followers.

“Yeah but you’re not his mother, Enzo. And we all know a few curses, you know that. Our parents made sure of it,” Theo was giving a playful tone but his words held true. They all knew it.

Entering the large doorway to the hall Draco spotted Blaise first. The latter boy had chosen a spot in damn near the middle of the table and Mattheo felt his stomach knotting again. He knew people were already going to stare at him, but this table placement felt like he was on display.

He would’ve much rather eaten at the far end of the table, where no one would likely notice him. He’d rather eat in the kitchens with the elves. He follows the others anyway, sitting on the farthest end so there’s plenty of bench on his left. That’s something he learned very early; always know where your escape route is.

Mattheo was too busy pushing the food around on his plate to notice you approaching. Your touch on his arm as you went to sit down was the first alert of your presence and, again, he flinched away. “M’sorr-” he starts to apologize but you’ve already cut him off, “S’okay, Matty, it’s my fault. I forgot.”

You turn to the rest of the boys around him, “Morning! So exciting we get to explore the castle today isn’t it?” Mattheo isn’t sure if you’re ignoring it, or you just are too blissed out on magic thoughts to notice the rest of his group looking at you nearly dumbfounded. Everyone else at the table knew the rule: never touch Mattheo. Yet here you were, still unharmed at that.

Draco’s platinum brow was raised, glancing between you and Mattheo, “I mean this in the rudest way possible…who are you?” You hum in acknowledgement, “Of course, m’so sorry I did the same thing to Mattheo on the train,” rubbing your toast hands on your jeans before holding it out to Draco and introducing yourself, punctuating your name with another bright smile.

He stares at your hand before glancing towards Mattheo. Enzo grabbed your hand instead, shaking it enthusiastically, “Lorenzo Berkshire, but call me Enzo, and this is Theodore Nott and that’s Blaise Zabini.” He nodded to the two boys on his and Mattheo’s other side.

“Just Theo is fine,” Theo corrected, “Can I ask…what’s a badger like you doing wandering into the snake den. Didn’t you hear? We Slytherins are dangerous.” All of a sudden it feels like Mattheo’s body is not his own, like he’s shrinking smaller and smaller inside himself and what’s sitting next to you on the bench is just a shell.

The back of his neck starts to feel damp and it's reminiscent of when he hears his mother call his name from across the manor. He’s terrified. So fearful that you’ll see the people around him as cruel and immediately associate that with him without questions. Then he’s alone again.

“You know a badgers bite actually has a BFQ of 109,” your response to Theo’s quip is quick and easy, not a hint of defensiveness in your tone. It’s simply…informative. Your response clearly confused most of the others as well, sweet and naive Enzo the only one open enough to ask for clarification, “What the hell is a BFQ?”

Between sips of his pumpkin juice Blaise speaks for the first time since you sat down, “Bite force quotient.” Theo rolls his eyes, “Yeah, okay but what does that even mean?” You stab a sausage with your fork and set it on your plate, knife in hand as you begin to cut it into smaller pieces, “It means that a badger bite has enough force to crush bone like I’m cutting this sausage.”

You take a bite from your fork before dancing it around in the air as you spoke, “Mmm, guess I’m just saying to mind your tone because,” you took another bite, “yeah snakes are all in your face, hissing and what not, venom blah blah…but badgers are unassuming. People see them as dumb little furry rodents so no one is quite ready when they BAM!” You stabbed a piece of cut sausage with enough force to rattle your plate and cause all the boys, including Mattheo, to flinch, “they come in for the kill.”

“Anyway, heard we’re going to actually get to learn how to fly?!” You continued with your meal like nothing was the matter, “Personally I’m quite chuffed about it, you lot already know how I’m assuming?”

Enzo laughed nervously, scratching lightly at the base of his neck, “Yeah we kinda all already know how mostly. But ehm, where’d, erm, where’d you learn that badger thing? You read a lot?” You shrugged, continuing to eat as normal, “I mean, I do like to read. But I did a project on badgers in primary, ironic huh?” You went to nudge Mattheo with your elbow before stopping halfway, seemingly remembering his issue.

His stomach dropped, fearing you’d never want to get close to him again. Theo spoke up, clearly still confused, “Is no one going to explain primary to us now?” Blaised sighed, though eleven he seemed to have the patience for his peers as that of a seventh year, “It’s muggle school, they start young, like six or seven years old.”

“Muggle school?” Draco looks at you like you’re covered in filth and his voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Mattheo, “Cousin…you let a muggle sit with you on the train? With us here? At breakfast?”

There it was again, that sinking, shell like feeling, only now any emptiness was being filled with anger. Without Mattheo’s help you were quick to quip back, “Technically my parents are muggles, I got my letter the same way all of you did. That’s why I’m sitting here.”

Your obliviousness to the wizarding world and what each of their families and their titles held around you made you unlike any person Mattheo had ever met. He wasn’t quite sure yet if that made him scared or enamored.

“Watch out for the badger bite, Malfoy,” Theo teased the blond and everyone laughs. Mattheo laughs too, glancing in his peripheral to see your smile reaching your eyes and that his cousins words haven’t offended or have you wanting to run.

You take a sip of your pumpkin juice before wiping your lips with your napkin and starting to stand up. There it is, Mattheo thought, finally running. “You ready, Matty?” you’re fully standing now, hand across your middle holding your other arm. “W-what?” it was the first Mattheo had spoken since his interrupted apology.

“To see where our lessons are going to be? We should have most of them together I would assume, unless they separate the houses for most classes, but surely not right?” Mattheo stood up quickly, his heart dropping to his stomach and he scrambled to take out the course list that he had haphazardly shoved in his jeans pocket.

He smoothed it out on the table before holding it up next to yours, “Oh see, no worries then, we’ve got most of them together.” Theo asked to see your list, comparing it to his, Enzo’s and Blaise’s. You all had a mix of courses together, you and Mattheo seeming to have the most in similarity.

You asked the other’s to join you both in your exploration. Theo and Enzo agreed, Blaise said he was going to find the library. Draco said he would “find things on his own”, stalking off ahead of the rest of you, keeping a pace that would ensure he was no where near the rest of you.

“Is he always like that?” You were asking Mattheo, but Enzo answered, “Don’t worry about him, it’s not you. Well, erm…it might be you. But Malfoy doesn’t seem to like anyone really.”

Mattheo huffed a non-committal laugh, “Yeah, including himself.” The other two Slytherins laughed in agreement. You simply looked concerned, “I wonder where that comes from.”

You’re too kind for your own good, Mattheo thought to himself. Per usual, Enzo is eager to answer, “Oh his father is a nightmare. Real piece of work.” Theo snorted, “He’s not the only one, aye boys. Kind of a requirement with our group.”

Enzo barked out a laugh, Mattheo gave a half-hearted grunt. He glanced over at you, trying to gauge your thoughts. You were the hardest person he’s ever tried to read. Your face just held the same look, slight concern and something else Mattheo couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he hoped to Merlin it wasn’t pity.

All of the lessons seemed easy enough to find. Whether that was due to magic or not Mattheo wasn’t sure and he never truly had the desire or care to find out. Mattheo was just glad you were in nearly all of his courses.

The only ones the two of you didn’t share were potions and herbology. For some terribly bloody reason potions were split by houses, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs together and Gryffindors with Slytherins. Mattheo was going to Avada himself if he had to hear his cousin and his idiot lap dogs try to get a rise out of Potter and his ginger friend all term.

Enzo somehow lucked out and got Herbology with you, whereas Mattheo was stuck with Theo and the others. Mattheo couldn’t help the jealousy that seemed to creep into his stomach each time you complimented something Enzo did during that lesson.

Even though you sat by him in every class, Mattheo craved your presence. He wasn’t able to describe exactly why he craved it, though. Maybe it was because you were kind. Or maybe because you were so smart and able to pick up on things easier than everyone else. Or maybe it was because you were the only person who didn’t give a rats ass who his father was.

The conversation, or more so argument, he overheard last week, confirmed it. He was going to meet you in one of the empty classrooms to work on transfiguration spells. For someone with founder’s blood in his veins he couldn’t transform a goblet to save his life.

“Why do you hang around him?” Mattheo heard someone ask, a Ravenclaw who he was pretty sure sat behind the two of you in charms. “Because he’s my friend?” Mattheo stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice, clearly laced with a bit of annoyance he’s never heard from you before.

“But you know who his father is, don’t you? Haven’t you heard what he’s done?” The Ravenclaw girl was getting on Mattheo’s last nerve. He was ready to turn that corner, tell her to shut her prat mouth when you started speaking again.

“Mattheo is not his father, gods, why does it feel like I’m repeating that to everyone these days. People need to stop trying to warn me about him and maybe try to actually get to know him. He’s a really nice boy. And very funny. You’re being kind of a bitch, Padma.”

Padma scoffed, clearly deciding to walk another way to wherever she was headed as you turned the corner alone, nearly running into Mattheo, “Oh, wow, sorry Matty.”

So people were talking to you about him. They were trying to convince you to stop hanging around him, not to be friends with him. But you’re not listening, his internal thoughts rang as a reminder.

Your hand moving back and forth in front of his face brought him back to the present, “Where’d you go? Was like you were looking into another realm, is that a thing here? Can you guys, er, can we do that?” Mattheo completely ignored your inquiry and instead answered your question with another question, “Did you just call someone a bitch?”

The bridge of your nose seemed to display a light shade of pink and Mattheo couldn’t recall ever seeing you flustered before, “They were being mean.” He couldn’t help himself, a desperate need deep inside had to see if you would admit it, “What were they being mean about that warranted that response?”

You started walking towards your shared destination, but Mattheo couldn’t let it die. “C’monn,” he dragged the word out slightly, “we tell each other everything.” And that was mostly true on Mattheo’s part. He wasn’t so sure talking about watching his mother use unforgiveables on guests was something you needed to know; or even something you’d understand.

“Ehm, it was you,” your voice was small, nearly a whisper that Mattheo didn’t catch. “What? What’d you say?” You huffed, stopping in front of the door to the classroom you were meant to practice in, “They were being mean about you, Mattheo. Okay? I know I shouldn’t have called her that but…ugh, I am so sick and tired of people trying to convince me that you’re a bad person.”

That last part came out in a huff of frustration as you opened the door and walked inside. Mattheo couldn’t move. He was stuck in the doorway. You turned when you couldn’t hear his footsteps following you, “Are we still practicing?”

“How many people have tried to convince you I’m a bad person?” He truly didn’t want to know the answer. Just asking the question made him feel like his insides were boiling. You shook your head slightly, “I dunno, Matty. I’m not exactly keeping track of every miserable git telling me my best friend is terrible.”

Mattheo started walking towards you now, “You think I’m your best friend?” He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach seemingly in his throat and he sort of felt like he might throw up. The sound of your laugh soothed all of that out.

“Well, yeah ya knob. Am I not yours? Don’t tell me you picked Nott over me.” Mattheo stammered for a moment, “Wha- ehm, Why did you…huh? Theo?” You laughed a little harder now, “You guys are close too, aren’t you?”

Mattheo’s head hurt a little, “I, uh, I mean…yeah I guess. But not like you and me. I mean…fucking Salazar.” Mattheo ran his hands through his curls, tugging at the sides slightly. You held your hand up as if to calm his stammering, “It’s okay, Matty. I know I’m your best friend too.”

He grinned at that, your reassurance. It still felt new every time you did it; he’s never gotten it as much as he has with you. “Ready to finally learn how to change a toad into a goblet?” You reached in your pocket and pulled out the amphibian. Mattheo grinned, nodding and setting up beside you.

The next several months seemed to fly by in lessons. Mattheo never realized how much practical magic he never really learned at home.

Feindre did all his washings and cooking, he lived in a manor that was centuries old and protected by magic so he never needed to know any repair or fixing spells, and the doors being locked or not were irrelevant as his mother just apparated to where he was if she were to punish him; she also never locked a door if she were torturing. “You need to see the weakness that leaks from those beneath us Mattheo.”

He shuddered at the thought. He was well aware of what was going to be expected of him. He was half sure his mother only let him attend Hogwarts as a means of gaining more respect and more followers. “You want them to fear you, you’re not looking for friends, you’re looking for followers.”

He didn’t like that either. Draco was a follower. Draco was afraid. He didn’t want that to be the only type of people around him.

For someone who didn’t know magic was real until five months ago, you were exceptional in all your classes. You were always trying to study, always trying to soak in more information.

The last day before Christmas holiday was no exception. You had asked Mattheo, Theo and Enzo if they wanted to start on course work for next term. They had all said no.

Well…Enzo had looked at you like you’d grown an extra head, whereas Theo and Mattheo declined politely. Mattheo would’ve have went with you in a heartbeat, but he hadn’t packed a single item in his trunk.

His original school of thought was that if he didn’t pack then he’d have to stay at school for the holidays. The thought of seeing his mother again made him short of breath from anxiety.

But Draco reminded him that the Malfoy Christmas ball was happening (as it did every year) and Mattheo actually loved his Aunt Cissy. She was the only person in his father’s circle that treated him like any other boy his age.

You didn’t mind going to the library alone. You often did when the Slytherins wanted to play quidditch. You were not quite as good at flying as they were yet, so you’d go to the library to make revisions instead.

The content for next term actually seemed exciting to you. But everything about Hogwarts excited you. In History of Magic next term you were going to learn about the origins of wizards sports, quidditch the primary subject.

I have to tell Mattheo, he’ll be so excited, was your only thought and you rushed out of the library, not quite paying attention to your surroundings as you crashed into someone; dropping your texts in the process.

You heard Draco’s scoff of disgust before you heard his annoying voice, “Out of my way mudblood.” You let out an annoyed huff, bending down to pick up your books from the floor.

“I don’t even know what that means, Malfoy. But I know you’re trying to insult me,” you held your books flush to your chest, “your insults don’t mean anything to me you know.”

Draco laughed out loud, taking a look at each one of his chubby minions beside him, “Do you want me to explain it to you?”

You adjusted the strap on your shoulder bag, “Not really but I’m sure you’re going to.” The malicious glint in Draco’s eye should’ve warned you of the delight he was about to get from this. You should’ve ignored him and walked away but there were three of them and only one of you.

“You’re a filthy, little, mudblood,” Draco emphasized each work with hatred and disgust, “Your blood is dirty, you come from nothing. Fucking Salazar, you are nothing. I honestly don’t get how the others are so blind to it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, make any kind of retort but Draco kept going, “I’m what you call pureblood. The blood that runs in my veins has centuries of magic in it and Mattheo is the same. Enzo, Theo, Blaise, all of our blood is pure. I don’t know what little spell you put on my cousin, but it’s going to fade.

“It may not be tomorrow, it may not even be a year from now, but he’s going to realize your worthlessness. Fuck and when he does…I want you to remember this moment. I want you to hear my voice in the back of that empty fucking head of yours telling you I told you so.”

The tears brimming your eyes were uncontrollable. You didn’t want to believe anything he was saying, you knew Mattheo didn’t think of you like that. But there was a small part of you that couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t go running to cousin with your tears either, he’s the Dark Lord’s heir after all. He doesn’t need to deal with whiny babies.” Draco had to deliver one more blow for his satisfaction, him and his friends laughing in your face.

“You’re a prick, Malfoy. No wonder everyone can’t stand you,” you wiped your eyes with the heel of your palm as you pushed passed them.

You could still hear them laughing, mocking you all down the corridor until you turned the corner. You were supposed to meet up with Mattheo before dinner, but now you just wanted to be left alone.

♡♡♡

When you didn’t meet him at the common room entrance for dinner, Mattheo was a little worried. Theo tried to calm him down, telling him they were running late and you probably just went to the hall already.

But that made Mattheo more distraught, since houses don’t mix at dinner time. He was quieter than usual once they sat down, far more focus on searching the faces and backs of heads at the Hufflepuff table.

When he didn’t recognize any student to be you, he turned to the group, “You guys didn’t happen to see y/n on the way to dinner did you? I don’t see ‘em here.”

Enzo and Theo looked over at your house table, shaking their heads. Blaise looked a little guilty, “I wasn’t going to say anything…honestly Matt I thought maybe you had a fight or something.”

Mattheo turned towards him, “Say anything about what?” Blaise shrugged his shoulders, a slight apologetic look in his eyes, “I saw them crying earlier, I think they were going towards the astronomy tower.”

Instant panic spread over him, “Crying? Were they hurt? Could you tell?” Blaise shook his head. “Why do you even care?” Draco sounded annoyed, Mattheo got angry. “That's my friend, did you do something to them?”

Draco rolled his eyes, flipping Mattheo the bird, “Wouldn’t waste my breath on a mudblood.” Mattheo slammed him open palms on the table as he stood up from the bench.

Everyone in a ten foot radius was staring now. Draco looked terrified, rightfully so. While he only just learned reparo, Mattheo learned crucio at age 5 and he was pretty confident he could cast it on his cousin this very moment.

Instead, Mattheo stormed off, heading straight to where he hoped was the astronomy tower. After only two wrong turns he started up the mountain of stairs.

After only two flights he spotted you, curled in on yourself on one of the large steps with your back to the wall. Your face was hidden in your knees but the gold from the hood of your robes gave you away.

You were crying, muffled and trying to be silent but Mattheo recognized the posture. The shaking shoulders, the small sniffles. He’d done it a dozen times himself this last summer.

“There’s my badger…what’re you doing up here?” Mattheo’s voice was soft, gentle. It’s what he always hoped was used when he felt this way so he could only assume it’d be comforting to you too.

You lifted your head just enough to rest your chin on your knees, “I got tired,” you sniffed again, “too many stairs.”

Mattheo nodded, small smile on his face, “S’that why you’re crying and missed dinner? Too many stairs? Couldn’t get back down?”

You knew he was trying to make a joke, a weak smile was all you could manage before frowning once more, “Wasn’t the stairs…”

Mattheo moved to sit in front of you, barging into your eye line, “Then what was it?” Your face scrunched and you shook your head.

Mattheo placed his hands on your ankles, the action was so out of character for him, the physical touch. But it make you lock eyes nonetheless, “If I tell you, you have to just let it go.”

The tilt in his head was slight but you noticed it, “I mean it Matty.” Mattheo nodded, not speaking in hopes you’d continue.

“It was your cousin. He just…ugh,” you hid your face in your knees again, taking a deep shuttered breath. Mattheo gave your ankles a small squeeze as if to encourage you to keep explaining.

You turned your head to the side, not wanting to look Mattheo in the eyes when you said it, “He called me a…mudblood.”

Mattheo’s hands disappeared from your legs and it made you look at him. People had told you Mattheo could probably get angry. That his father was considered the darkest wizard of our time.

You never really saw any of that before, but you saw a glint of it in his eyes now, “Is that all he said?” You shook your head, sinking back into the wall slightly.

“I told him I didn’t know what that meant…then he told me I had dirty blood. Said his was pure. That all of you Slytherins had pure blood and that no matter how hard I tried…I would never amount to the same as you guys.”

Mattheo frowned. You had started crying again and he felt like someone had just punched a hole in his gut. “He’s wrong,” Mattheo was shaking his head, “Some of the biggest sodding cowards I’ve ever seen are from pureblood families.”

“Just made me feel really cruddy,” you snuffled, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your robe. Mattheo could feel a fire kindling inside his chest, “I’ll kill him.”

You reached out, grabbing Mattheo’s forearm; he didn’t flinch away this time. “Don’t,” you pleaded, “you promised you wouldn’t do anything.”

Mattheo chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Well I have to do something..”

“Will you just sit with me for a little bit…please?” You pleaded, your hand was cool against his heated skin.

“Yeah, erm, I can do that.” So that’s what he did. Mattheo found solace on the step one above yours. He sat as you did, pulling his knees to his chest.

He sat with you until you felt better, calmer. Then he walked you to your common room, popping into the kitchens with you to grab a small bite since you both missed dinner.

When he got back to his own common room he grabbed his duvet from his dorm and then back to the communal space and picked the largest couch to lay on.

He couldn’t sleep in his dorm tonight. Draco was in there. And if he saw Draco, he knew he’d hurt him right now. And if there were two things Mattheo knew he would never do: (1) become his father, (2) break a promise to you.

#yes yes i promise there's more #don't worry you guys #little asshole draco gets his day in mattheo court #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x gn!reader #slytherin boys #origin stories series

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lovelettersforthedamned · 2 months ago

Note

How about Hockey!Peter + their first fight 🥹

You Make Me Feel Stupid

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 1.2k

✰ summary: you're tired of being put last when it came to peter.

✰ warnings: angst, language, crying, tears, fluff at the end, peter is a stupid college boy.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ college!hockey!peter parker m.list

gif by @josshelps

You weren’t in the mood. Period, end of story.

Getting little to no sleep last night due to your inconsiderate neighbors paired with Peter getting too cozy with the random girl next to him was more than enough to send you over the edge. The truth of the matter was that you did not care to hear his side of the story, you’ve been trying to keep your cool all day and you’ve had enough.

Peter asked you to meet him at his last class today before going back to his place and spending the rest of the day on his couch. But seeing him now, that was the last thing you wanted to do. Your heart was pounding along with your breath quickening, making your head spin.

He still hasn’t noticed you standing there, he’s too immersed in whatever very interesting conversation he must be having with the girl in front of him. You knew you weren’t needed there, so you left; just like that.

You walked yourself back to your apartment, which you hadn’t done in months, sulking in silence. Anger soon left your body and was soon replaced with sadness. Usually, long walks help you clear your head, but this one did the exact opposite.

We’re not even together, so why am I getting this upset about him talking to someone else? He can do whatever he wants, I don’t care.

Before you knew it, you made it to your front door, your neighbors still obnoxiously loud. Your eyes burned as tears fell down your cheeks. There was no consideration as you dropped your bag on the floor, not caring that your laptop was in there. You just needed to be in bed.

Right as you were about to face plant into your mattress, a knock came from your front door. The loudest grunt you’ve ever made leaves your lips as you throw your head back and start to make your way to the door. You don’t even bother to check the peephole for who it is before you’re face to face with the last person you want to see.

His eyebrows are scrunched up in confusion and deepen when he sees the current state you’re in. Peter’s out of breath, his forehead glistening in the sunlight, “Where were you? I thought you were meeting me at my last class?”

Your face is still blank as you look at him with a painfully annoyed stare. “Didn’t want to go anymore,” your answer was just as blank.

“What the fuck are you talking about, bug?”

You just roll your eyes and walk away from the door, not bothering to shut it, as if Peter would let you. “Are you dumb? I just said I didn’t want to go anymore,” your tone rising. At this point, you were trying to be a bitch. You could’ve just told him the truth about how you’re feeling, but what was the point if he never wanted to be real and honest about himself?

Peter follows you to your kitchen as you lean against the counter, arms crossed in front of you, shooting a sharp glare at him. “Look,” he starts, “I don’t have time for this right now, so when you figure yourself out then we can talk.”

That was your breaking point. As if this entire day wasn’t already terrible, Peter found a way to make it worse. Grabbing the nearest object you could find, you throw it at him, aiming for his head. He’s lucky it was a plastic cup that he dodged at the last second. “What was the point of you even coming here if you ‘don’t have time for this’ right now? Get the fuck out of my sight,” you scream at him, as he stands there in shock.

He stays there unmoving. You’re sick of his games, you’re sick of him. Marching up to him, you shove his shoulders, “Leave me alone, Peter,” your voice wavering as more tears well up in your eyes, making your vision blurry, “please just go.”

You’ve only made him move a foot or so before he grabs your wrists, “Hey, hey,” you can’t hear him, “(Y/N), take a breath.”

Finally listening to him, you crumble. He’s still holding your wrists up as your head falls forward, hanging in defeat as tears fall to the floor. You don’t say anything when Peter leads you to the couch, making you sit next to him. Taking a deep breath, you start, “You’re so confusing, Peter.”

He doesn’t even defend himself, he just cocks his head to the side in question before you continue.

“I don’t know if you realize it, but you make me feel really stupid,” you start, making his posture straighten, “and it’s whatever, I don’t care. But you need to stop treating me like I’m just an inconvenience in your day and then your fucking muse when we’re alone. I’m sick of it, Peter.” Taking another breath, you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say, “And if you’re tired of me or something then just leave.”

You turn to face him, and now you see him clearly for the first time. Tears are threatening to spill over in his eyes, and he’s fidgeting with his hand. It’s clear that he wants to do something to physically comfort you, but he doesn’t know if that’s too much for you right now. And you’re grateful for that.

“Bug, I’m so sorry for making you feel stupid, we both know you’re not” he sighs. Peter struggles to find the right words to say, it’s evident in the way his eyes are darting around, “I’ve been so lost in my own life to not consider yours and that’s fucking awful. It’s not an excuse to treat you the way I’ve been treating you. There’s no way I could get tired of you, never. And I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Another wave of emotion floods your mind as you reach your hand out to hold his, “I know you aren’t ready for anything serious, and I understand that. But I just need a sense of security with this. I can’t be following you around like a fan girl waiting for you to notice me.

He squeezes your hand and nods. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

And suddenly his hand wasn’t enough as you lean into him, your arms engulfing him in a hug. You two stay like that for a while, before your neighbor’s commotion next door makes you laugh. “They’ve been that loud since last night and I think my brain is going to explode,” you whisper into his neck.

“You want to head to my place? I can guarantee peace and quiet,” he smiles.

Lifting your head off of his chest, you look at him, “Peace and quiet have never been a thing around you, let’s be honest.”

Peter can see how tired you are just by studying your face, the thought of him being a contributor to your exhaustion weighs on his mind. “Well,” he places a kiss on your forehead, “I think we both need a nap, and I can guarantee I’ll be quiet doing that.”

“Yeah right. We both know you snore like an old man,” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back in fake annoyance, “Do you want to come or not?”

✰ author's note: thank you anon for the request!! i've been craving angst recently (im on my period). don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! if you want to send a beautiful request like this one, you can!! my ask box is open!! ok ily bye !!

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter parker #peter parker #fluff #college!peter parker #hockey!peter parker #angst

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spidermanstealyohoe · 1 month ago

Text

we are the people || c.s.

“i know everything about you, you know everything about me”

__________

parings: cairo sweet x gn reader

summary: after everything happened with mr. miller, you and cairo just weren’t the same anymore

warnings: language, angst

words: 1.0k+

__________

you’ve been aware cairo had an interest in mr.miller for some reason, you didn’t know why since he was like the least most attractive teacher in the school along with boris. one day, she asked you come to her mansion only to find her balling her eyes out looking extremely frustrated. you assumed it was something between her and mr.miller, little did you know she’d been secretly planing to seek revenge for him failing her.

ever since that day, she’s been different, no longer delicately spoken and collected, no longer the same cairo you knew since you were kids, she’s kind of two-faced now matter a fact.

you now were standing in her room as cairo stands up on her bed, reading her testimony that would be spoken in-front of the entire school. after she finishes, she looks up you with shaky breath. "...so, how was it?" cairo asks you with a very simple tone as you knew whatever you said, it wouldn’t matter. all this because of a rejection?

“why are you doing this?” is all you could muster up as she scoffed and came down from her bed, looking at you with a cold expression.

"why am i doing this? why wouldn't i?" she walks closer to you, looking at you like a wolf over prey. her gaze is dead like a predators as she glares down at you, "because he deserves it, that's why,"

“for what? for rejecting you?” you scoffed out softly, looking at her with a look full of disbelief and anger for what she’s doing.

cairo scoffs herself, her lips twisting into a snarl. “he didn't just reject me...he threatened to fail me," she retorted. "and it would've been my first bad grade, i’ll lose my perfect track record if I fail, you know how important my grades are."

now you’re looking at her like she’s lost her mind, “are you fucking crazy? maybe if you didn’t write that creepy story about you two this wouldn’t have happened!” you exclaimed.

yeah, cairo had told you everything since the beginning, how she wrote this smutty story about her and mr.miller inspired by cairos favorite author henry miller. the idea was sick and just beyond inappropriate. she takes in your expression, your disbelief in her actions, it only makes her more bitter.

"maybe if mr.miller wasn't such a creep this wouldn't have happened either," she replied, her voice venomous, you rolled your eyes at her words. you knew half of what she was saying was true, mr.miller should’ve stopped it a long time ago but cairo was the one who started all of this.

“well maybe if you hadn’t started throwing yourself at him, this wouldn’t have happened.” you said coolly and not thinking at the moment. cairo's eyes widen as you say that, anger flashes across her face and a look of disbelief.

"what did you just say?" she snapped, her voice rising in volume. she was on the brink of losing here and your comment definitely didn't help, especially since the truth stung so badly.

“you fucking heard me.” you lowered your tone as you two glared at each other.

"you really think i came on to him? you really think i’m that desperate?" cairo shakes her head in denial, but a hint of uncertainty flashes in her eyes. the truth was eating away at her but she refused to give in.

“i know you were desperate to get fucked.”

cairo's cheeks turn a slight red color and she's caught off guard by your bluntness. she opens her mouth to speak but can't find the words, her anger growing hotter. you were getting under her skin.

"i wasn't desperate...i just...wanted his attention," she admitted finally, her voice betraying the true depth of her feelings.

“what happened to you?” you asked bluntly and out of the random. cairo furrows her brow in confusion, thrown off by your sudden question.

"what do you mean 'what happened to me?'" she asks, her voice still tinged with irritation. she moves closer to you, her eyes searching your face for answers.

“i mean you’ve changed, you’re not the same person i used to know.” you said softly as you two were now inches apart.

cairo's heart sinks at your words, hearing the truth in them. she averted her gaze, not wanting to face the reality of what she had become.

"i...i’m still the same person," she mutters, her voice tinged with regret. but you both knew it was a lie. she was caught up in her anger and revenge, and the cairo you used to know seemed so far away now.

“are you?” you asked, your voice raising as your eyebrows knitted together. cairo's shoulders slump as she stares at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and hurt.

"what do you want me to say?," she asks through gritted teeth. you knew your question had hit a nerve.

"yes, i've changed! is that what you want to hear? that i’m not the girl you knew anymore?"

“all because of a teacher that didn’t wanna fuck you?!” you scoffed as her expression went from anger to hurt.

“you know what? get the fuck out!” she pushes you back making you stumble back slightly, “i don’t ever want to see you again!” she yelled as her eyes filled with tears threatening to fall.

“guess that makes two of us…” you mumbled as you slowly backed up from her and started walking back towards the door, “goodbye cairo, enjoy your stupid revenge.”

and with that you slammed the door not looking back, cairo stood there feet planted on the ground as her tears that were threatening to fall finally fell. she wanted to desperately go after you but she knew you would just ignore her.

the only time you saw her was in the halls, she had her gaze to the floor and her books to her chest as she made her way to class. you two did bother to make eye contact at all. part do you wanted to talk to her but you didn’t, instead you walked past her like strangers with memories.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #movies #writing #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #angst

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ikeuverse · 1 month ago

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FAV PERSON IN THE WORLD — p.jongseong

PAIRING: uncle!jay x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff WC: 3.6k+

WARNINGS: mention of food poisoning, mention of vomiting, mention of food too. just a completely sensible uncle jay, not a lot of warnings. lmk if i missed anything.

SYNOPSIS: jay has always put his nephew above all else, loving him unconditionally. but one incident – completely normal – makes him question whether he really is a great uncle.

NOTES: i made a poll a while back about uncle!enhypen. originally my thought was not going to be for jay, but this idea flooded me and i simply had to write. that's all! hope you like it.

masterlist

The Park family parties were memorable. Whether it was a simple dinner or lunch, or a completely glitzy birthday celebration, that was the purpose, even more so after Oliver, Jongseong's nephew, was born.

During the boy's twelve years, every birthday Jongseong made a point of working hard on the decorations, attractions, and places where the parties would take place. Elaborate halls, the backyard pool at his parents' house. Even renting a home on the beach and spending the weekend when Oliver turned eight, he told Louise and Heeseung, Oliver's parents, that he would give them this gift. Now, the famous twelfth birthday is coming up and it couldn't be any different.

The day started off bright for Jongseong as if he were turning another year older. But with the birth of Oliver twelve years ago, everything changed in uncle Jay's life. He was always loving and did everything for his sister, but after his nephew was born, everything was for him. All the extra attention and love Jongseong got was for Oliver.

The packets of sweets he brought on the way home, made a point of stopping by his sister's house just to say hello to the little boy. Let Heeseung and Louise deal with it, he wasn't there to see them. Jongseong had known them forever, and they got the attention they deserved. Now it was the youngest's turn to have it all.

And that's why the boy decided to dedicate one more moment on that date to Oliver's day. From the moment Jongseong woke up, he kissed you good morning quickly and left the house to pick up the little one. The two of them would go out for a walk and buy something, whatever he wanted. Then they would get ready for the big night in a hall with an arcade and lots of video games. The perfect place to turn twelve with school friends and close family. It was an exciting adventure and they both looked like two excited kids. Oliver, incredible as it seemed, was more restrained than his uncle.

But Jongseong couldn't have predicted when things would go wrong. Least of all eating so much candy before the big party would result in a boy bent over the toilet vomiting for the fourth time in less than thirty minutes.

He felt terrible. The worst uncle in the world for not foreseeing that mixing ice cream, a snack with an extra layer of cheese and lots of soda could weaken Oliver's stomach. Let alone that it would ruin the party he had planned for a month.

“What's up, buddy?” Heeseung leaned against the doorframe, sighing defeatedly when he saw his son throwing up again. Jongseong didn't want to leave his nephew's side for a second “Louise is with Y/n at the pharmacy to get the medicine, I think I'll get him some more tea—”

“Dad, no” Oliver took a deep breath, his head close enough to the toilet to echo the sound throughout the bathroom as he spoke “I can't take any more tea.”

“But it's great for the stomach, buddy” he said, “and your grandmother always gave it to me and Uncle Jay when we had… food poisoning.”

“When you were both drunk enough, right?” Oliver laughed, looking at Jongseong and then at his father, slowly raising his eyes and taking a few more breaths. It had been a few minutes and he had stopped vomiting, at least “Mom told me that story once.”

“Your mother's a big mouth” Jongseong grimaced, sitting down on the bathroom floor next to his nephew, occasionally running one hand over his back “But your granny's tea does cure everything the stomach is capable of rejecting.”

“I don't want to…” he whimpered, feeling his stomach ache. There was nothing left to put out and he believed he had already thrown up enough. His head was aching, his whole body as fragile as a sheet of paper. Meanwhile, Heeseung felt his heartache at seeing his son like that, but it was nothing compared to how Jongseong was feeling.

It was all his fault. If the two of them hadn't gone out that morning and eaten everything in sight, at least Oliver would be well enough to enjoy his birthday party. Or if he had been a slightly more responsible uncle, he would have put a limit on what the two of them could eat. Jongseong could have listened to you that morning when you told him to be careful because he should save himself for the party at night, but he didn't. He wanted to do whatever he wanted. He wanted to do what the little boy wanted and enjoy it with him. Now he was paying the price and with an even heavier heart.

“Uncle Jay” Oliver's voice echoed in the older man's ears, making him abandon his thoughts and focus on what he was saying. The pale face and watery eyes staring at him made Jongseong hold back the knot in his throat that was beginning to form.

“Yes?” he tried to say in a firm voice, almost cursing himself when she faltered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

That I'm the worst uncle in the world.

The sound of the door opening, conversation, and footsteps on the floor below spared Jongseong the answer he wanted to give. He heaved a sigh of relief when he heard his sister's voice talking to Heeseung and the sound of her footsteps hurrying up the stairs.

“Son” she came into the bathroom, a bag in her hands, rummaging through whatever was in it in a bit of a hurry “Your aunt and I talked to the pharmacist and he gave me this medicine here” she took the small bottle from the bag and knelt down next to Oliver and Jongseong. She tried to smile at her brother, giving him a little more comfort. Louise knew how crazy her brother was about his nephew, she admired and loved it so much “You can have some, yeah?”

“Mom” he pouted, his corsican eyes almost begging for nothing else to enter his mouth apart from that bad tea he'd been drinking all along.

“Please, I promise you'll get better soon, okay?” she knew he would. That medicine was the salvation of all problems.

Still hesitant, Oliver kept looking at his mother with his Corsican eyes, almost pleading. There was a clear resemblance to Heeseung and a little bit of Jongseong. She smiled as she opened the bottle and poured in the amount indicated on the lid, which could easily serve as a mini cup.

As if asking permission before anything else, Oliver's eyes focused on Jongseong and how he still stared at his nephew. He didn't care if his mother was right there, she was the one who had to say yes or no to him. But his uncle's opinion and acceptance were more important than anything.

Nodding slowly, Jongseong seemed to encourage him, giving him a quick smile before his eyes focused on his sister. Louise raised the medicine to her son's lips and slowly made him take it. Even with grimaces and noises of denial, Oliver drank every drop until there was nothing left, holding back the urge to get it all out. But he knew that if he did that, he'd have to take the medicine again, and he didn't want to go through that twice.

“Now you're going to be fine, my love” she sat down across from him, kissing him on the top of the head.

Oliver disentangled himself from the toilet to snuggle close to his mother, her lap making him feel a little safer and less vulnerable than he was. Jongseong slid down a little further, leaving that moment for his sister and nephew to enjoy together. But he didn't go that far as he felt a small weight on his arm, Oliver's hand slowly sliding down and pulling him a little closer.

He smiled faintly, looking at Louise and Oliver hugging, and staying in place. That moment calmed his nerves a little, although he still had the thought that he'd ruined everything.

You didn't have to say a word to know that Jongseong had been wanting to fall apart ever since he left Louise and Heeseung's house. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove, not saying a word to you. Just nodding now and then when you asked something and murmuring in agreement when you tried to break the silence. The air was getting heavy as the two of you arrived at the shared apartment.

Jongseong was never one to get up front, always waiting for you with his hand resting on your back. Exchanging a few kisses here and there and playing with you even if the day had been the worst of all. But at the end of the day, with the weight on his shoulders, he went up to the apartment floor while you opened the back door of the car to get your coats and your travel bag. It had been intended for the change of clothes from the party, but with the event, everything was postponed and you had your clothes and your husband's in that bag, carrying it into the apartment.

When you entered the shared space, the only noise coming from inside was the shower, indicating that Jongseong would already be in the bath. It would probably take longer than usual. He spent a considerable amount of time under the shower when he had a particularly unbearable day at work, so you couldn't even tell how long he would be taking today into account.

Leaving the travel bag in the corner of the sofa, walking into the kitchen and leaning on the counter, thinking about what you could make him eat, or even thinking about how to talk to him to try to find out what you could do. It also left you feeling a little lost. Jongseong's love for Oliver was clear, and in the boy's twelve years, you'd never seen his uncle so shaken up.

Of course, things had happened, like Oliver breaking his knee while Jongseong and Heeseung were trying to teach him how to ride a bike. Jongseong let a tear fall when he saw his nephew whimpering. You secretly helped him clean up, managing to say words of comfort that he soon understood. Also remember the time Oliver got into a fight at school for the first time; the contrast that was Heeseung a little dazed, trying to talk peacefully to his son and teaching him that things could be solved with dialog or that he could talk to the teacher. Jongseong, on the other hand, was asking who had pushed him, and if he had fought back and was hurt. Oh, he was going to that school the next morning to get some satisfaction!

You laughed alone at the little thoughts surrounding your husband's relationship with his nephew, wondering what it would be like when you and he had a child too. Jongseong was the most loving and protective guy you'd met since the day you became best friends with Louise in college, seeing the way he treated his sister among so many frat guys. Caring brother and, a caring boyfriend. You've been lucky since the day you started dating him.

The sound of the shower turning off woke you up from your nostalgic thoughts, so you thought you should take some action instead of standing around thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Jongseong was probably taking his time drying off, applying some cream, and changing his clothes. That would give you time to open the fridge and see what you could make for him. Maybe cut up some fruit and put it in a small bowl with honey… That would calm him down somewhat. Alcohol, no way. Jongseong would bury himself in a whole bottle of whisky and soon you'd be just like him and Louise, holding him down while he flushed everything down the toilet just like Oliver that same day.

The sound of distant footsteps gradually approaching made you smile a little. The fruit was already cut, a good amount of honey was poured over the slices and you walked over to the cutlery drawer to pick up a fork. Your gaze lifted to the figure that had just entered the kitchen.

“Hey, love” you greeted him with a smile, only to be greeted with a weak smile back. He approached you in slow steps, without saying much, dragging his slippers across the kitchen floor until he stopped next to you.

“Hi” the husky voice whispered, which you only heard because of how close you were to each other now. Otherwise, sure you would have asked him to repeat it.

Jongseong's hands gripped your waist, slowly pulling you towards him as you placed your fork on the counter and flattened your hands against his chest. From that angle, with your face close to your husband's, you could see how red his eyes were. The pigment trailed down to the tip of his nose. His cracked lips were a little darker in color, perhaps Jongseong had bitten so hard that he almost hurt himself, not wanting you to hear him cry in the shower.

“Jay” you whispered, raising one of your hands to touch his face. The subtle touch of your fingertips was too much for him to bear, and he felt his eyes sting again and couldn't hold back the urge to shed even more tears.

His heart was aching, each salty tear running down his cheek and being wiped away by your fingertips. You pulled his face a little lower, resting your forehead against his and letting him cry as much as he needed to relieve what he was feeling. Even if you wanted to stop it all. Jongseong needed to let it out a little more, to feel vulnerable enough to be trembling in your arms. His fingers wrapped tightly around your waist, squeezing you as if he didn't want to let you go.

“I—” he sobbed, swallowing a large ball of saliva with the amount of anguish and pain that lingered in his throat “I'm a terrible uncle— Shit, Oliver's going to hate me for the rest of my life” another sob, this time a little louder.

“Baby, hey” you were desperate to make him stop thinking that kind of thing, Jongseong's sobs only making it worse “Look at me, please” your plea ignited something in him, the tone of your voice being soothing, even though the boy was still in tears. His eyes quickly forced themselves to focus on you, even though his vision was blurred, he looked at you.

The broken look and trembling lips made you let out a sad sigh at the sight. Very few times have you been able to see him like that, and each time it was even more heartbreaking.

“I made you something to eat and, well…” you looked between his eyes and his entire tear-soaked face, painted a light pink against your husband's tanned skin “How about we go to bed and do that?”

“All right” Jongseong's voice was hoarse and shaky, he just obeyed you. You didn't have the strength to challenge anything while you felt that he was still holding you, with no indication that he was going to let you go.

You didn't mind doing everything for him. From holding his hand to picking up the container with the other and walking with him to the bedroom. The instructions for him to sit on the bed while you left the jar of fruit with honey next to the bedside table, now focusing on taking off your clothes for the day and replacing them with a large, baggy T-shirt that Jongseong had bought for himself some three years ago. You stole it, and he never cared.

Walking towards him, his tearful eyes and quiet position sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard made you smile again. He looked like an older baby, pouting without realizing it as you approached and stopped next to him on the bed. Your husband's eyes followed your every move as you propped yourself up on the mattress enough to get close and sit against his lap. Bending down far enough to pick up the fruit jar and plunge your fork into a very red strawberry filled with honey on top.

“Open your mouth, young man” you ordered, noticing that his eyes shifted from you to the pot, only realizing at that moment what you would give him to eat. Jongseong was so engrossed that he didn't see anything, only the moment a strawberry was hovering over his face. He gave the first laugh of the night, slowly moving his body beneath his.

“Did you put honey on all that?” he asked, trying to sound a little firmer as he opened his mouth to eat the fruit. A sound of contentment came from his lips, knowing how much that sweetness soothed him. Even after years of doing this, Jongseong never thought that a sweet liquid could do wonders for his body.

He ate in silence, letting you feed him each fruit, now and then asking for an extra amount of honey, only to smear it on his lips and wipe them with a small smile.

“Thank you” he said, feeling satisfied almost halfway through the pot. He held it in his hands, placing it back on the bedside table so that you were free of any utensils while he wrapped his arms around your waist. Burying your head against his chest and feeling your arms encircle his neck.

“I love you” you whispered softly, your lips between black hair with the scent of freshly washed shampoo. You gave Jongseong's temple a quick kiss, sliding your lips down to his forehead to linger there. The skin you loved so much slid over your lips until you brushed your forehead against his “And you know you didn't do anything wrong, right?”

“But—” Jongseong sighed “Look at everything I've caused, Y/n. You don't have to say that to make me feel better.”

“But I'm not doing that” your hands rested on his shoulders, sliding down to grip either side of Jonseong's neck. With their foreheads still together, you could feel his breath against your lips every time he said something.

“I ruined Ollie's birthday, he's got a bad stomach because of me—”

“You made his twelfth birthday very memorable” you interrupted him, seeing the boy's curious eyes quickly go to yours, searching for some answer or continuation of what you were saying.

“We had to postpone his party, love.”

“But you spent the whole day with him” you said. “Love, you're Oliver's favorite person. And even without a party, he just wanted to spend time with you, and that was worth it.”

Is he his nephew's favorite person? Really? Jongseong's eyes practically begged for it to be true, that you weren't talking out of your mouth.

“Did you see him complaining about the party being canceled?” you asked your husband. He tried to search his memory during the turbulent hours between seeing his nephew fall ill and how much he ran so that the little boy wouldn't throw up on the way. But he couldn't remember a single moment when he had even mentioned the birthday party.

“He didn't even mention the party” Jongseong whispered, watching your smile widen a little more as he came to his senses. That was what it was all about.

Oliver didn't care about the party, although the family always liked to celebrate. He just wanted to spend time with uncle Jay, to take part in all the adventures his uncle provided. The party was just a complement to the day because everything was worthwhile from the moment Jongseong arrived to pick him up and spend the day with him.

“Not to mention the fact that he'll take this with him for life” you left a quick kiss on Jongseong's lips “Can you imagine him remembering that he was sick on his twelfth birthday because uncle Jay took him out?”

“Do you think he'd remember?” he laughed a little, returning the kiss once more. Feeling your lips on his slowly chased away even more of the bad sensations in his body.

“Actually” taking advantage of the fact that his mouth was still pressed lightly against yours, you whispered, sliding your lower lip between his lips. One of your hands went up to Jongseong's face, caressing the skin of his cheek “Imagine Oliver telling our son how insane it was to spend his twelfth birthday next to his uncle?”

“Oh” he laughed against your mouth, sliding his teeth over your bottom lip slowly “How about we practice on that now, then?” you felt Jongseong's hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the flesh on either side before pressing your hips a little closer to his. You let out a laugh, slowly opening your mouth.

“I think that's a good idea” you said.

That was a great way to let all the stress and worry out of Jongseong's body. With the thought that he was the favorite person in his nephew's life, that hadn't made him such a bad uncle. Add to that the desire to make real the thought he'd had of a mini Jay or a mini you sitting next to his nephew, listening to the crazy stories he and Oliver had told over the years.

Maybe one slip-up and one memorable story wouldn't make him such a bad uncle after all.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #jongseong fluff #enhypen jay #enha fluff #jay angst #jongseong angst #enhypen angst #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enha fics #enha angst #enhypen masterlist #enhypen imagines #bay writes.

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theonewiththefanfics · 9 months ago

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A Life Worth Living (one-shot)

Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.

This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)

Word count: 5115

The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.

Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.

Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.

This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.

That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.

Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.

She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.

With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.

When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.

It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.

Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”

“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.

“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”

The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.

With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…

About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”

And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.

A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?

She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.

A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”

Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.

He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.

His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.

Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”

He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”

Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.

Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.

“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”

“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”

The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”

Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”

“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”

“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”

Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.

He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.

And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.

“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”

And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.

“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”

She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”

That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.

He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”

An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”

“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.

“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”

“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”

By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”

Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.

Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.

He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?

“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”

“I -,”

“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”

“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”

“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”

“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.

Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”

By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”

“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.

“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”

Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”

“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”

This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.

She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.

“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”

Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.

“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”

Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.

It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.

Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.

Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?

But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…

“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”

“Astarion called.”

“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.

“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”

Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.

But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.

She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”

“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”

She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”

“My immortality.”

Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.

She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”

Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”

Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”

“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”

Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.

She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.

“So what happens now?”

“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”

“Am I… immortal now?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”

“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”

“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”

“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”

Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.

She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?

Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.

“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”

He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”

“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here – living and breathing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”

“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”

“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”

“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”

“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”

“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”

“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”

“And you left me for last…”

Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”

A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”

The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.

“You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace. “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”

Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”

Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”

“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”

She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”

It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.

There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.

“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.

“And to a life worth living.”

The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: My tags are always open

Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)

I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)

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hiraethwa · 25 days ago

Text

to be loved is to be known

two; here we go again // the red strings bring you back to me

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, divorced!reader, fluff, healing from past marriage

wc. 6.8k

featured track. haze by LUCY

you have me. even when you think you don't. i was only ever yours to begin with.

kageyama tobio accepted the offer to play with ali roma that following season.

you had seemed happier in the following weeks with no recollection of the night of your birthday, so he tells himself that he is happy for you that you managed to mend whatever it was in your marriage. not that it ever stops him from thinking that he wouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place if he was your husband. if, if, if.

but he isn’t, so he throws himself into volleyball, the love of his life. between the busy season leading up to the olympics and moving to italy, he didn’t have much time to miss you anyway.

you didn’t normally text or call each other outside of volleyball, the only thing that threads a very thin connection between you, so he sort of lost contact with you naturally, the delicate string unraveling through disuse.

it’s been many months since he settled in italy, so he gathers it’s time to move on with his life—move on from you. he thinks he is actually doing alright in that department, chasing after whispers of your name on written articles, posts, updates significantly less than he used to when he first moved there.

once again, kageyama forgets to account for the variable that is you.

because he finds you knocking on his apartment door as he returns from his grocery run, and his arms slacken, bags falling to the wooden floor. a tomato tumbles out onto the floorboard. he wonders if he is hallucinating—he thought he had been doing so well in the moving-on-from-you department too.

“kageyama!” he finds himself flustered at the lack of formalities coming from you.

“kuroo-san? w–what are you doing here?” how did you even find where he lives?

“didn’t you send me that text to drop by if i visit italy? you didn’t tell me you changed your mind.” you help him with the bags as he fumbles with his keys. why won’t the key fob just orient itself properly?

wait, the text? he didn’t text you, did he? finally, the lock on his front door registers the presence of the fob and unlocks. he realizes belatedly, as you set down his groceries on the kitchen floor, that he must have accidentally sent you the text that was meant for hinata.

no wonder hinata never said anything about it.

kageyama wisely chooses not to mention his mistake to you. he listens to you point out a few things you’ve noticed in your trip so far—the gorgeous architecture, the gelato storefronts that seem to line every other block, the mouthwatering food you tried so far—patiently waiting for you to explain this bizarre situation to him.

it is extremely out-of-character for you to show up unannounced, and not to mention, formalities and boundaries be damned. and you are rambling, seemingly nervous, your tell of tucking your hair behind your ear giving you away.

so he nods along with you, commenting here and there, pretending like all of this is normal (when none of it is) as you make yourself at home at his kitchen island, telling him stories while watching him put his groceries away.

kageyama could almost pretend that this is your domestic life. one in another world where the gods favored him.

he recognizes the glint of wildness in your eyes, the look when you take a leap of faith, uncalculated faith, trusting, hoping that you will land on the other side safely.

“say, if, if aeroitalia smi roma gave me an offer to join them here in italy next season. what would you do if you were me?”

aeroitalia smi roma. here in italy. a barrage of questions appear, one that especially looms above them all. his eyes wander to your hands, noting the absence of the gold band on your ring finger. he tamps down on the blind hope rising to the surface of his heart.

“i would take it. they’re one of the best in italy.” but what about kuroo-san?

you nod at his statement, mostly to yourself. he registers the faraway look in your eyes as you turn to look out the window at the busy streets below.

he could almost taste the hope on his tongue, could almost imagine a life shared with you, doing groceries together, having you stare out his kitchen window as you are now on a lazy saturday afternoon, a cup of steaming hot latte in your hands. almost.

“could i ask you for a favor?”

“anything.” he breathes.

another lifetime where you would barrage him to decorate his relatively empty apartment, its four plaster walls empty and unused, to make his place feel like a home.

“i am going to need a tour guide when i come back.” you look pointedly at him.

he tries not to let his smile shine through too much. “when you come back?”

this lifetime where he would take anything you are willing to offer, make his peace with it. it has been so long he’s almost forgotten it, how easy it was to be around you, natural as breathing, familiar as a volleyball in between his palms.

as though he’s a desolate tree that survived all winter, the chill that festered in his bones being chased away by your warm gentle rays of sunlight from the unexpectedly early spring.

“you know, if aeroitalia did give me an offer.”

“i have barely been here for a year.” he laughs, coming to a stop next to you, staring out at the streets.

“still barely a year longer than me. plus, you can speak some italian, right?” you elbow him.

“i guess i will see you then, huh?” he tilts his head at you, dimples showing. you smile back at him—barely, a ghost of what it used to be.

he makes a vow to the gods that he would do anything to bring it back. anything.

“i’ll be two doors away if you need me.” you think kageyama was being polite as he helped you lug your suitcases up twelve flights of stairs with the elevator undergoing maintenance.

you bang your head on the wall in embarrassment. what exactly were you thinking when you showed up at kageyama’s apartment last month, and then pestered him with your stupid questions about moving to italy?

oh my god. he was probably just being polite and didn’t know how to tell you off. your relationship with kageyama had been strictly work-related, but you went off the rails, too worried about the move to italy while finalizing your divorce to be anxious over what he thought of you.

you ignore the uneasiness in your chest as you fish your phone out, feeling a buzz from it.

it’s a text from kageyama. you alright over there? shit. that was the wall between your apartments, wasn’t it? you text back a yep! before letting your shame out in a silent scream.

you make quick work of putting your essentials away, clothes, toiletries, packed food ingredients (as kageyama suggested), and some miscellaneous things that you managed to fit in two suitcases. the apartment came furnished, and two suitcases wasn’t much to begin with, having left most of the items from your previous marriage behind.

the sun is setting by the time you finish. the apartment looking just a little less vacant with your jacket strewn over the back of your couch, sauces and seasonings dotting the space next to the stovetop for now.

it’s not home, but it will do, for the time being. until you could fill in the missing fixtures and appliances, like a coat hanger for the front door, some bathroom necessities, kitchen knives. the list grows by the second as you survey your new space from where you are curled up by the kitchen window.

you lean your head against the wooden panels, admiring the yolk-colored ball of fire casting its final rays of light over the bustling city before darkness falls, much like flipping the last page of the chapter.

you stay there until the last strand of sunlight disappears over the horizon, rome now enveloped in specks of yellow. the sun will rise again tomorrow, it’s time to start a fresh page.

still, it feels odd knowing you are the only one who will walk through the front door every evening, that you have this space all to yourself.

your habitual tadaima slipping from your lips to no one in particular as you cross the threshold of your apartment, not that kuroo was ever present physically or mentally to welcome you home with a responding okaeri. on days when he came home after you (which was most), he often beelined for the shower, briefcase left at the front door, which he would come back to later, flipping through project documents past working hours.

you could probably count on ten fingers the handful of times that he even noticed your presence in the living room and mumbled a tadaima before tugging off his tie in the last year of your marriage.

it is easy to forget how much your life has changed during the day, occupied with the pace of practice and the frenzy of filling your apartment. so easy to gloss over the kuroo-shaped hole in your heart when the sound of the cities floods out the voices in your head.

when the night falls, and the city quiets, that’s when it gets loud. the sound of nothing, the crackling static gets so deafening in your ears, your mind, overwhelming your senses.

the realization that you really left everyone who’s ever loved you behind in japan to find something new, different in a foreign country, its tongue that you are struggling to decipher, the loneliness of being abroad.

the hollowness in your chest that amplifies the nothingness in your ears.

you have taken a liking to the city nightscape, eyes staring out at nothing in particular as you sit by the window by your lonesome, trying your very best to adapt and learn to be comfortable alone in your spacious apartment. to allow your thoughts and fears and hopes to speak to you while the static buzzes in the background, acknowledging them and letting them flow over and through you.

i hear you.

it gets easier to breathe the more you sit by the window overlooking the city. the sense of loss that once pressed on you at every waking moment dulls to a quiet throb.

you look out the window, where the first rays of sunlight peek over the city, dancing through the window and illuminating your kitchen in its softness, loosening a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

it’s the first morning you actually see the sunrise, legs cramping, as the sun climbs over the horizon, wishing you a good morning, since you moved in weeks ago.

it feels like deja vu as kageyama tobio finds you outside his apartment door, arm poised to knock on it, except you don’t. still as a statue, you stand frozen in doubt, the only movement from your fingers flexing and curling catching his eye.

even the shadows themselves seem to curl tighter around you as he approaches you carefully, as if you were a wild animal emerging from hibernation that would vanish back into the darkness at the slightest disturbance.

the gods must be over the moon with the new creative ways they are coming up with to toy with his heartstrings. the roles so starkly reversed between you and him, his once brilliant sun reduced to mere echoes of its former glory, leaving him to play what used to be your role and bring you out of your shell.

kageyama wonders if it would be appropriate if he poked fun at you the way you used to at him, if he would be overstepping his lines. then again, the lines had been blurred and redrawn over the past month, he thinks, remembering the first time you reached out to him after dropping by without notice, not really volleyball related.

hey! what should i bring to italy? you had texted him, the bubble showing that you’re still typing. like stuff you can’t get there.

he had thought long and hard about it before replying—curry cubes. perhaps that one was too specific, as he follows up with another text. sorry. anything you like to eat in japan, it’s hard to get japanese ingredients here. you had reacted to his message with a heart and left it at that.

and then more random messages.

do i need to bring a rice cooker? probably not…? i bought mine here. [image attachment] maybe i should bring one…

kageyama couldn’t help but laugh at that one. did you really have such specific preferences?

hey, do you think rome has nice soy sauce? just bring it.

how cold does it get there? tokyo is much colder, just bring your lighter coats.

he could just try. what’s the worst that could happen, right?

“hey.” he feels bad as you flinch at his sudden appearance, having half a mind to scurry back to the safety of your apartment, but it was too late—you have been spotted. “the door isn’t going to bite.”

“oh, hey, i wasn’t sure if you were home.” you rub the back of your head sheepishly.

“our practice ended late, what’s up?” he spies the stack of curry cube packages under your other arm, the thought of you remembering the stupid text he sent without thinking and bringing him all those boxes from japan making him flush.

he puts a mental hand over his heart to calm it from jumping out of his ribcage into your hands.

gods above, the effect that you have on him with every little gesture, all of them flying blissfully over your head. that’s one thing he can thank the gods for, at least.

you hand him the stack, tucking a stray curl of hair behind your ear. “a token of appreciation for all your troubles, kageyama.”

and because he was feeling a little bold, he jokes, “are you the same y/n who turned up at my door a month ago?”

“oh, you’re one to speak,” you roll your eyes, the corners of your lips twitching in a small smile. “there are two wolves in me, okay? one is batshit nuts, you know her, the one you see on court. the other one is me, and you drew the short stick today.”

kageyama knows he’s nowhere close to getting over you with the way the smallest hint of a smile from you sends his heart skittering, the way he is offering up everything he has to the role he has been asked to play so that you might shine freely once again, not for him but for you.

despite the stamped out selfish hope that maybe, maybe you might fall for him this time, he earnestly wants to weather the passing storm by your side, so you might walk out to clear blue skies, cloudless and unburdened. so you might smile freely once more, even if it's not meant for him.

“wanna come in? i’m making pasta for dinner.” he holds up the bag of groceries he picked up from the corner shop on the way home.

you hesitate, not unwillingly, more so from not wanting to intrude on his personal space. “you don’t have to—”

“you’ve already shown up unannounced once, what’s another?”

you flush with embarrassment at the thought of that time. not your brightest moment. “gods, will you ever let me live that down? i really don’t want to be a bother.”

“c’mon, you’re not. promise.” he gestures for you to enter his apartment.

you lean against his counter awkwardly as you watch him lay out the ingredients, prepping the table surface to actually make pasta from scratch. he notes the surprise on your face.

“i actually can’t cook very well, but making pasta is surprisingly therapeutic.” kageyama explains while he measures out the flour and salt, making a well in the center of the mixture to crack the eggs in. he whisks the eggs before slowly stirring in the flour mixture methodically.

“wanna try?” he offers after seeing the entranced look in your eyes. you nod, scrubbing your hands with soap before taking over the kneading of the pasta dough from kageyama.

he watches you quietly as you poke the tip of your tongue out the side, attention completely focused on folding and pressing the dough and repeating the motion, taking note of the downward turn of the corners of your eyes, the haunted look in your eyes when you forget to hide it.

your hand waving in his face breaks him out of his thoughts. “kageyama?”

“what happened to your formalities?” he blurts. where is the line between us?

you give him a questioning look.

he corrects himself, “i’m kageyama-san to you, and you’re kuroo-san to me, remember?”

“oh, that. i’m not kuroo-san anymore. we finalized our divorce before i moved here. if you prefer that, i can go back to calling you kageyama-san.” you brush your divorce off as if it is ancient history, as if it doesn’t leave an emptiness in your chest where you used to feel love for him.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” he shouldn’t have asked. for various reasons not limited to the way the hope in him perks its head up at the confirmation that kuroo is out of your life for good.

“it’s fine, it’s been coming, i just chose to look the other way.” you squint at the dough, suddenly kneading it with more force, your previous child-like delight now gone at the mention of your failed marriage.

kageyama really shouldn’t have asked. he hates to be the one who took away your fun and soured your mood with that question. that you still look devastatingly beautiful despite the sorrow etched in your soul.

“you can call me tobio. since we are friends outside of work now.” he hopes that his hair is covering the warm tips of his ears.

“sure,” you shrug, “you know you’re the only one who called me that or oumae-san anyway, right? old man.”

“oh wow, going right to insulting me. is this your other wolf appearing?” he shoots back drily as he nudges you out of the way. “go put something on the tv, we need to rest the dough for twenty minutes.”

your clear and bright laughter fills his apartment as you back out of the kitchen, hands up in surrender, a sparkle in your eyes and that smile appearing on your lips, chasing away the darkness.

he thinks this may not be as hard as he thought after all, playful banters with you. anything to chase away your ghosts.

and suddenly the one-bedroom apartment feels like home to kageyama tobio.

months slip by, summer’s warmth finally giving way to crunchy leaves beneath your feet and cool breezes caressing your skin softly with a lover’s touch.

kageyama tobio and you are nothing if not creatures of routine, taking turns at your apartments during the weekdays to make dinner since it’s so much easier to make dinner for two than one and significantly time-saving to not have to go through the twenty steps of cooking by yourself every day.

though you find yourself at his apartment more than yours, his skillful hands diligently prepping ingredients, slicing them with precision, following the recipe methodically with you as his assistant (who lounges at kitchen island a little too much, head on hand, watching him work, because gods, his hands, larger than your own, fingers unbelievably slender and elegant despite all the training he puts them through. you are envious of them, and just a tad obsessed.)

tobio would catch you staring sometimes, and you would look away, pretend to be unfazed, ignoring the blood racing through your veins. gods really do have a favorite.

you grew to enjoy his company, so unlike the quiet solitude of home that you were used to. his dry humor and his quiet steady presence. his cooking, really. you wonder what his fans would make of that, since he had once admitted to being a bad cook in an interview that lives on somewhere on the internet.

perhaps that precision of his is the reason the food he makes tastes so sinfully delicious on your tongue.

you had felt restless at first, unused to having so much time on your hands after being used to spending most of your own free time for more practice, more work, since kuroo was rarely home before the late hours of the night.

it never quite felt like home without him in that ninety-five square meter apartment—larger than most middle class homes yet so devoid of life and love that makes somewhere home. the luxury that you were able to afford given the size of your paychecks was never quite put to good use in those two years of your marriage.

“i’m feeling like some gelato today, want some?”

kageyama joins you out on the balcony, wiping his wet hands on the black cat apron you bought for him on a whim—a gift. it reminded you of his image in most people’s minds, a hissy and fussy cat who hates people, and to be honest (and maybe a little biased), you do enjoy that side of him.

it’s endearing, especially since you’re one of the few special humans that the picky cat likes. he really does act like a cat.

he had moved to italy a year before you, and being more familiar with the local culture, quickly became your go-to person to help you navigate the everyday life responsibilities from setting up your internet to the oddly laxed city disposal system. or the unlucky time your air conditioning stopped working in the peak of summer, barely weeks into your new apartment, your broken italian barely any help as you attempt to call a technician.

you remember having to resort to knocking on his door with a sheepish smile, rambling about the bind you were in and asking him if he could talk to the technician on your behalf. he had nodded, taking the phone from you and speaking into it, italian rough but so much more fluent than yours. his usually deep solemn voice just half a pitch higher and more expressive.

his unresponsiveness had you twiddling your thumbs in nervousness as he padded into your apartment, still on the phone and with you following closely, and proceeded to slam a fist into the side of the air conditioning unit before turning it back on.

the unit sputtered to life and you sighed in relief. “oh thank the gods.”

“the technician said he’ll stop by tomorrow in the evening because he has other calls to attend to from the unusually hot weather. i’ll be back from practice by then.”

“thank you, tobio.” you had smiled at him gratefully. you hated having to rely on other people for help with things that you should be able to do on your own, so accustomed to being hyperindependent, but tobio makes it easy to come to him for help. mostly due to the fact that he never makes you feel bad about asking for help, even though you do still feel bad about bothering him with all the stupid everyday life problems.

you had somehow wormed your way into his life and he had graciously allowed you to stay beyond all the times that you needed his help, steadily and unknowingly becoming your dearest friend.

you hum in response, giving gelato another thought since the air is turning chilly as the sun dips lower over the horizon, dusk creeping closer by the minute. “sure, why not?”

now, walking through the streets of rome at dusk in the cool autumnal weather for gelato was not what you expected when you agreed to it. you had expected smooth cold gelato melting on your tongue in the comfort and warmth of tobio’s apartment. not this.

goosebumps scattered across your skin under your sweater, teeth chattering slightly thanks to the cold dessert dropping your body heat further. your stubborn ass had rejected tobio’s offer of a jacket at the door, thinking your sweater would be warm enough for the autumn breezes.

apparently not if you’re eating gelato.

you didn’t have the heart to tell him no after finding out that the little trip would entail trekking fifteen minutes into the city and then back, with gelato, on a cool autumn night.

tobio has a way of making you go along with his whims without even trying.

you let out another shiver, cold fingers gripping the paper cup. he stifles his low chuckle by stuffing another spoonful of gelato in his mouth.

“what?” you narrow your eyes at the man, challenging him to say it. i told you so.

he shrugs, licking his spoon clean.

you look away from him, shoving the last mouthful of gelato between your cold cheeks and dumping the paper cup and spoon into a trashcan as you pass by.

a heavy warmth settles over your shoulders as you stick your hands into your pockets, surprise lining your eyes for a few seconds before realization sets in that tobio is draping his jacket over your shoulders.

tobio, who’s always known what you needed when you needed it. tobio, who’s always done it without guilt tripping you, no ‘i told you so’s or ‘you should have listened to me’s. tobio, who welcomed you into his life and stayed without asking for anything in return, his warm and steady presence providing you comfort just from knowing that he is right next to you.

the light brushes against your elbows when you work in the kitchen, arriving just as you space out a little too much while waiting for the onions to cook or staring out the window, the task before you forgotten. the gentle touches that grounds you back to reality, a quiet reminder that you are not alone.

you wonder if he knows how he makes you feel at ease, at home, and sometimes, when you catch a soft knowing smile on his lips at your boisterous laughter, you wonder if he is doing it with intention.

what kind of heroic deeds did you do in your past life to earn the favor of the gods?

you spin around to face him, only to have him take a step back as a biker zooms by, hands gripping your shoulders, pushing you away from the hazard, his back towards the open street. he glances back at the rider who is long gone, frowning at their carelessness.

his cheeks are pink from the cold, navy eyes sweeping over you to check that you’re fine.

“are you cold?” you ask him, hands already moving to return the jacket to its owner.

“no, keep it.”

you nod your thanks and pull your arms through the sleeves. your silhouette drowns in his already oversized jacket. the remnants of his warmth and the thickness of his jacket keep you warm the entire way home, just as it always does.

tobio shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of your apartments, towards home. tobio, who had teased you and laughed with you, sat with you in silence and talked to you over dinner, walked with you on that rocky path back towards the light.

somewhere deep inside you, the smallest bud springs to life on a barren branch, hope, quiet and unsure, stirs in its dormancy.

the lines between you and kageyama tobio keep rewriting themselves.

lines that were blurred and redrawn, over and over until the first lines were unrecognizable. it feels like drawing lines on sand, only to have waves wiping the slate clean, leaving you to hastily put down some semblance of a line.

as if the gods are laughing in your face, telling you that you are wrong and to try again.

so you threw the stick away.

it was not a conscious decision, not at first. you had just accidentally let it slip, the thing that kept you up at night, the whispers that only quieted at the sight of the midnight skies. the endless expanse of it and the deep blue hues stretching as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by wafts of clouds floating through.

lighter than the dark skies of your hometown in rural japan where there was less light pollution from the sparse street lights dotting the farmlands. but it was the same skies, same stars light years away from earth that your obaasan taught you to navigate with if you ever got lost in the forest behind your home.

the home you left behind to chase after your dreams in the city, and with it, your grandmother. the home you left again once more to outrun your bad decisions.

tobio, to his credit, had listened intently to you on his balcony that night, both of you sitting cross-legged with your backs against the door, elbows grazing lightly, and assured you that your fears were in fact, not stupid.

maybe it’s his comforting presence, or the way he ponders over the secrets you handed to him without judgment, but you seem to spill at the seams when he is around, unafraid to bare your soul to your—kindred spirit. maybe it’s the words that fall from his lips meant only for you, roughly thrown together, not without care, merely earnest and unembellished, sincerity clear in his focused gaze.

though certainly, bringing up one of your deepest fears in the middle of a farmer’s market was the last thing on your mind, and tobio’s, you are sure. yet here you are, words pouring out from your heart at the sight of flowers, one of the last hurdles that still sticks tall.

“do you think one day i won’t be broken anymore?” you gently thumb the soft petal of an amaryllis, feeling the ever so slight give under the pad of your thumb grounding you from the pain that your memories brought to the surface.

tobio frowns at your words—he hates them. “you’re not broken.” if you were not in public, with people weaving around the different stalls, he might have tried to shake some sense into you, literally.

oh, if only he knew. your heart twists, hand dropping to your side, flower forgotten. “he was in love with the idea of me. with an olympic setter as his wife, the trophy to his jva corner office. and i was too blind to see it, even tricked myself into thinking that i was in love, when really all along, we were just in pain.”

you point at where your heart resides, finger digging into the soft flesh cushioning your sternum. “in here. i’m irreversibly broken deep in here. some part of me that rots in the darkness, never able to see the light of day. despite having fallen out of love with him months ago, stopped expecting anything from him, i fear that i’m still broken, tobio.”

the tip of your index finger—and nail—turning white with the amount of force you’re prodding yourself with. as if you wished you could pluck the beating broken but healing organ out of your chest and replace it with an undamaged one. nothing but a strangled mess of scarred tissue growing over old wounds that bleed with ease, too much ease. still fucking broken.

“you are more than that. more than that wounded part of yourself that you’re healing. you’re not broken.” he deftly draws your hand away from yourself, holding it because he wanted to, drawing circles into the back of your hand to remind you that you are not alone. the crowd melts away, leaving the two of you in your bubble of imagined intimacy. “you’re not broken.”

“i can’t even look at my favorite flowers without being reminded of the times he would buy them as a late apology and a rain check he never made up for. and i would wonder if there’s something wrong with me, some explanation as to why having a husband is no more different than not having one.” you blink rapidly, fingers tightening on his hand as if he could keep the helplessness at bay that way. “some reason as to why it felt more like living with a stranger i love under the same roof in that last year. he just had something to prove and i just wanted him to love me.”

“when you find the right person, they will love you the way you deserve to be loved, with everything they have. they will make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.” tobio pins you with a determined stare, the words weighing heavy on his heart, knowing that he might have you to himself in this very moment, but not forever. not forever.

does he have to watch you fall in love this time? gods, they really have it out for him. would he even survive it this time?

you falter, hand around his slacking in defeat. “you don’t know that.”

you cannot fathom anyone choosing to love you, with all the jagged edges and uncertainty.

“i know that you deserve more than him, so don’t settle for anything less than you do. trust that the right person will come along.” he says it with so much conviction that you could have mistaken him for one of the gods that chart your destiny.

you wanted to ask him why—why he seems to believe that with his whole heart despite yourself—but the brush on your sleeve from a passing shopper breaks you out of the imaginary depths of your fears, shattering the illusion of privacy.

what had gotten into you today?

you recover from your momentary meltdown in public, instincts to guard and deflect kicking in among the many ears that could be listening to a conversation that should have been kept behind closed doors. “are you speaking from experience?”

“never been in a relationship, actually.” he smiles a wistful smile at you, deciding to release his hold on your hand—as if he himself also just remembered that you are in the public eye.

“huh, i would have thought otherwise.”

tobio rolls his eyes playfully at your teasing. “don’t even start, i know i’m not good with words.”

“no, really. it’s a wonder you haven’t been snatched up by anyone yet.”

“now you're just flattering me because you want me to make the carbonara pasta that you’ve been begging me to make for the past week.”

you gape at him, in disbelief that he would use that against you when you are doing nothing but giving him a sincere compliment.

“i’m being real here. whoever you choose to love would be lucky to have you. and if they don’t feel that way, it’s their loss, really.” you gesture with an outsplayed hand, turning back to the selection of flowers, wandering down the row of autumnal varieties.

tobio presses two fingers to his temple, sighing as he mutters under his breath, exasperated words a soft whisper on the breeze, “too bad she’s too dense to realize it.”

he panics a little at the thought of you picking his words up as you turn around with your head tipped to the side in confusion, “what did you say?”

“nothing, just that the amaryllis is pretty. you should get it.” he blurts, just happy that his muddled brain was able to come with something on the spot. never mind that he just name dropped a flower, one of many that he learnt because you once loved them, still do, it seems, just tainted by your past.

you shake your head at him, already looking forward. “it’s alright, let’s go look at the other stalls.” moving on from the remnants of a relationship you moved to italy to outrun, and leaving them behind.

“wait,” a sudden thought pops into tobio’s mind, and he decides to do it without letting himself overthink it. before he loses his courage.

you watch quietly as he picks out a stalk of carnation, a dusty pink that lightens slightly towards the tip of the petal and hands it to the shopkeeper, exchanging a few words before paying and returning with a very short stem.

“i know you still love flowers even though they are tainted by your past,” tobio swallows, hoping he does not fuck this up like he always seem to with his words, “but i want you to know that you deserve flowers just because. it doesn’t have to be an apology, or a special occasion. you deserve them just because you like them, simple as that.”

he takes a step closer to you, watching you carefully for any hints of discomfort or anguish that you might try to hide from him for his sake—hoping that you are comfortable around him enough not to.

you find yourself holding in your breath as you meet his eyes, mesmerized by the blue of his irises up close, warm cobalt shades dancing in the light, as if they were welcoming you, reminiscent of the night skies that fall after dusk, the same navy hues that lull you to safety.

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch featherlike as he slips the carnation over the crest of your ear. “there. one day the first thought that crosses your mind when you see them will not be of him, but of how pretty they are again.”

a blink. “thank you.” the words are choked, as a wave of emotions envelop you whole. you throw your arms around him haphazardly, hugging him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut for fear of your tear ducts betraying you, leaning on him for balance with your weight on the tip of your toes because of his height.

you yield to his warmth, comforted by his arms sliding into place around you, the familiarity tugging on a memory that you cannot seem to recover, a nagging feeling of something you forgot as seconds tick by.

“thank you, tobio.” you say it again, releasing him shyly when you realize that you held on for moments too long, brushing at your eyes with the back of your hand for any stray tears, chuckling lightly at how emotional you are being.

somehow it feels as if a weight has been lifted off your chest after hearing his words.

“you are loved, y/n, by your family and friends, and your fans. you are the setter who will dethrone kageyama tobio’s rule of the court, remember?”

you recognize the quote from one of the japanese magazines that you and tobio managed to get a hold of. it makes you laugh—the type that sends tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, leaving you breathless and light and feeling like everything will be alright—and you smile at him.

it feels strangely like coming home after a long day.

there is a twinkle in your eyes, the return of your genuine self as you ask, “and what of kageyama tobio?”

your smile hits him like the first ray of warm sunlight when snow melts away to reveal the tiny buds sprouting at the nodes of tree branches, that first truly warm day after winter when you know that spring is here. and just like the trees that have weathered the cold season, you are shaking off the cold in your bones, ready to bloom again.

that pureness in your smile—the invisible pull that drew him into your orbit almost three years ago now emerging reforged.

gods, you are nothing short of devastating. he knows he will never be able to love anyone else like he loves you, describing it as intense does not do it justice. try all-encompassing and consuming, leaving him defenseless and dazed and wanting more.

is that wrong of him to feel that way? that if given a choice by the gods to do it all over again, he would still choose to love you? that there is nothing he would not do, no hell he would not descend, no winter he would not weather, just to see you smile at him unadulterated?

“he believes that you are the queen of the court.”

your smile does not falter. it deepens, reaching your eyes, curving them into joyful crescents that send his heart thundering at an inhuman pace.

“thank you for being here. i am beginning to realize what it means to live.” you make me want to live. the unspoken words hanging in space between you.

for the first time in a very long time, tobio finds himself praying to the gods that have long abandoned him. he can only hope that they are listening.

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (gen) @mintgrumpy @noble-17 @box-of-roses (tobio nation) @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone (add yourself here)

a/n. i sprinkled lots of little details in this one hehehe (like how it is apartment to tobio before it becomes a home) how many did you find? *giggles while plotting* it's fluffier than i intended so i hope you enjoyed <33

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama angst #kageyama fic #hq #kageyama tobio angst #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #hiraethwa writes #《 to be loved is to be known 》

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g1rlken · 10 months ago

Text

⊹ ࣪˖Dreadful Birthdays⊹ ࣪˖

Felix catton x rich fem!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, shitty father, death of a parent, hurt comfort, childhood trauma, curse words?

Summary: start of a friendship on a lie to umbrella issues with opening up, fluff?

Standing outside, away from the party in a quieter atmosphere to attend a phone call in the small of the currently empty smoking zone garden outside the pub. Wearily y/n paced around in small steps as she talked on the phone, “But why?” She asked in distressed as voice on the other line seemed to reason something. “My break’s not that long I can’t come next month! You said-“ she was cut off with a reply on the call midway.

“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?” She argued yet a faint softness remained in her tone despite her frustration. “This is really unfair-you can’t do this to me last minute-“ the ongoing call was declined from the other like halfway through her sentence as she heard the monotone beep. She felt like throwing her phone on the ground, instead she kicked the metal vase instead. “Fucking arsehole!” She cursed to herself as a clearing of throat made her turn her head.

“Everything alright out here?” Felix asked her, he’d came out for a cigarette in the smoking zone but happened to listen the last of whatever ordeal she was going through with someone on the phone and seemed hugely upset about it.

“Oh-uh yeah.” She nodded hastily somewhat embarrassed he may have heard that and her swearing at the metal vase. Felix didn’t exactly know her, but y/n did. Like everyone’s dynamic with the ever so charming Felix.

“You’re..” he trailed off trying to remember her name because he did recognise her from some of their past meetings and he’d seen her around campus often, “Y/n? Yes y/n right? You were the TA last semester who returned assignments with stickers.” He mentioned and chuckled slightly.

“I’ve gained a reputation with the English majors?” She joked raising her brows with a small smile, surprised he remembered her.

“Rightfully so.” He nodded smiling, “I’m Felix.” He introduced himself lending out his hand for her to greet as she accepted but let out a huff.

“I know you.” She said in an obvious tone and reciprocated the smile on his face.

“So who was the fucking arsehole on the phone?” Felix inquired curiously given she didn’t seem so composed just a few moments ago.

“Oh that-“ she paused taking in a deep breath for a second, she contemplated a whole coursework worth of thoughts and stories on wether or not to tell him the truth. “It’s was my boyfriend…” she trailed off, lying. “Stupid argument.” She added feeling awfully strange what it was that came over her to outrightly lie.

“What happened?” He asked, now interested as he leaned by the table and lit a cigarette offering her the second puff.

She took him up on the offer for his cigarette as she took a moment to think through her supposed lie “It’s nothing huge really…” she said trying to downplay is so he would maybe not be interested in it.

“Come on, honour the cig.” He urged her with his charm as she took another drag and retuned his cigarette to him.

Coming up with a hastily put together story, “I’m long distance with my boyfriend currently, he’s uh studying code in Estonia and he was coming here so we could spend the summer break together” she sighed. “But he signed up on a project there and bailed on me last minute.” She briefed him feeling proud and miserable of herself for having a peculiar story like that right off the top of her head.

“What an arsehole indeed” he replied matching her frustration as he scoffed “How dare he sign up a stupid project with a girlfriend as pretty as you?” Felix gave her his chivalrous smile, knowingly flirting with her but her boyfriend was a douche so it was alright.

“How awfully kind of you.” Y/n said playfully rolling her eyes at him as their night progressed in dumb conversations of here and there it was 4 in the morning by the time the pub waiter asked them to leave. They talked until sunrise and that is how y/n befriended Felix.

Despite the lie that the actual phone conversation was with her father and not a fake boyfriend in Estonia like she told him, “Then you can fly in for the weekend after this month, we’ve got a big launch for the company and if you’re here then the PR team will want you at the inauguration and I don’t want that. I don’t want you around on big company occasions, too much trouble as it is.” Her father said sternly on the phone, the rich were shallower than it seemed.

“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?”

“Stop being so dramatic and grow up for a second” he told her off sighing, “You are not wanted here. You can’t come home now, I don’t want you to be associated with the company whatsoever. I don’t want the ‘dad’ rep on me with you. Simple as that.” He said to her harshly as he pronounced the word you in an exaggeratedly disgusted sense. As she tried to whine more about how unfair it was to her last minute he simply declined the call not wanting to handle any more of her tantrums.

Those two weeks of her friendship with felix blossomed and proved to be rather wholesome. Y/n was genuinely glad for his company, the charm of him could never make one feel unwanted. Felix hated not having his new friend for all of summer, it took quite a lot of convincing and begging on his side to get her to come to saltburn with him. Firstly y/n was really unsure if she could do so given they had been friends for just two weeks despite the closeness of their bond. Secondly if her father found out about her rendezvous, not that he’d care whatever she was upto but he would be mad if it could somehow bring a bad light upon him. Which in itself was a rare case because as felix stated his estate was in a remote place and she felt she could live her summer on her terms.

“You are crushing my eyes!” She exclaimed giggling as felix tightly held his palm over her eyes and his other hand guiding her through the large hallway to the decorated living room, for her. It was a well planed surprise so he didn’t want her looking through the gaps of her fingers at the last moment before the whole thing.

“Just a second” He told her as y/n felt him guiding her into a room where the conversations silenced themselves when he entered with her. Finally he pulled his hand away and held her from her shoulders. “Surprise!” The entire room echoed as confetti spread across the elegant happy birthday decorations. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out if you didn’t tell me?!” He exclaimed laughing as leaned forward from behind her and wrapped his arm around her.

Y/n was overcome with emotions as everyone cheered on happy birthday and surprise, Farleigh still bursting the confetti cracker. Felix attempted to walk across the room to take the covered plate from his hands,“How’d you know?” She held his wrist to stop him and asked him, hugely struck with the surprise.

“Your TA, I-card which you wore around like a badge of honour, it had your birth date mentioned.” He told her as he laughed and gave her a side hug when Elspeth approached her. Felix paced away for a moment to get the cake from Duncan.

“Felix shall throw you a godawful themed party or so later but I wanted to cherish you in a more traditional manner.” She said warmly as she held her by her face and kissed her forehead, the traditionalism of birthdays was long lost with the children growing up into party animals however the grand hall could have used a soft and sober gathering of the occasion of a birthday. Besides she really liked y/n, amongst all of felix’s wild friends she was awfully gorgeous and tender of heart.

“Thank you-“ Was all she could reply, extremely overwhelmed at this moment. “Really-“ she added feeling her gratitude shortening but nobody in this room would realise how big this was for her. She was soon pulled away with all the birthday hugs and warm wishes, a room full of people..gathering at 12 to celebrate her? With her? This was the hardest breakdown she had ever had to fight back.

Venetia pulled her to the table where Felix rearranged the candles on her cake for the final time. The sight of the cake with her name, the hugs she was receiving. She couldn’t hold it in anymore as tears brimmed her eyes. “Hey” Felix noticed as he leaned a bit lower to look at her eyes when she looked away confirming tears welled up her eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh, it was adorable to note how sensitive she was. “Hey…come here!” He pulled her into his embrace with his arms holding her from the side.

“Come on!” Venetia laughed along as she fixed y/n’s hair “don’t cry, you want your pictures perfect.” She said trying to cheer her up.

“God I’m sorry-“ she said shaking her head and pulled away from felix’s embrace as they sat next to each other by her birthday cake and everyone around them, “I’m just—I’m really touched by this, I-I don’t think I can come up with words that could hold my gratitude right now…” she said through her tears as felix chuckled wiping them “Truly, this means the world to me-you’ve all shown me such affection and-I-“

“By the time you finish that speech we’re all going to be in dentures” Farleigh said growing impatient and received an elbow via Venetia.

“Im sorry-this is just very thoughtful of everybody…” y/n said with a chuckle as she wiped her tears yet the hurt in heart where they came from lingered alongside the joy of such experience.

“Blow the candles!” Felix encouraged as he rubbed her back. She was about to when she was urged to make a wish. Closing her eyes with a big smile on her face she did so and the celebration furthered. Just another cake cutting at saltburn was going to be the most treasured memory for y/n.

Later that night, almost two in the morning the birthday giggles hadn’t yet died down as y/n lounged with felix in her guest room. She sat legs crossed by the stone bay window as the moonlight reflected through the room. “You really love that cake don’t you?” Felix commented leaning back on the chair across her as he laughed.

“It’s my birthday cake!” She exclaimed emphasising on the word my. It was as it is her third plate of the night.

“Whatever the birthday girl wants.” Felix said chuckling and remembered “Hey has our Mr.Arsehole called yet?” He asked and leaned backwards to look at the time on the clock, as her boyfriend he should’ve called her when the clock struck midnight.

Her face fell at the mention of it, she was planning to tell him sooner or later that she made that up. But she was looking to end that facade at a better time, it had been over a month now searching for that better time. She couldn’t keep her best friend in the dark like this. “Look I have to tell you something about that…”

“You guys broke up?” He asked almost instantly as if he was hoping for it however he kept his tone neutrally curious.

“I don’t have a boyfriend who’s studying in Estonia” she breathed as she sat her plate aside “I-I made that up when we met.” Felix was dumbfounded for a second he couldn’t wrap his head around what she was trying to say. “Look…when we met I just wanted to seem like an interesting person to you I didn’t think we’d become friends like this-“

“And this whole time you didn’t think you should tell me?” He inquired sternly as a frown fell on his face. Felix felt as enraged as he did hurt, “I’d never have considered you to be a two faced person like that!” He scorned standing up from his seat to account for his frustration.

“I’m not!” Exclaiming she replied sensing the rightful hurt and anger radiating off of him, “Felix, seriously I was planning to tell you about this.”

“When? When were you planning to tell me huh?” He asked as he rested his hands on his waist demanding an answer.

She didn’t have an answer for that because she knew this conversation would lead a follow up conversation which would require her to explain about her father to him, that situation is what she was running from. “I..I am sorry felix.” She said. She felt awful not being able to say ‘hear me out.’ Because he so clearly wanted to, he wanted the rational explanation she had but couldn’t tell him.

“Sorry?” He scoffed looking away for a second, “Who was it then? On the phone that night?” He seethed and waited for her to reply, everything within him begged for her to come up with an explanation which would make his feelings for her warranted for again. He had those this entire time, he’d known her boyfriend and her would eventually break up. He was looking forward to this moment ever since he met her but this was the most unideal situation.

Y/n’s silence agitated him even more so, he couldn’t stomach he’d have to let go off his feelings for her. It had been a long while he’d felt like this for someone, this deeply and unwaveringly and he could feel his heart having to say goodbye to it all soon enough and he hated that she couldn’t even reply or meet his gaze. “You owe me an explanation y/n! Just tell me who was on the phone.”

Her gaze as fixated on the floor as she felt the world crumble around her, it felt like standing in the ruins. She created herself, the pattern wasn’t unknown to her. “It was my father.” She told him, however much she wanted to lie with something else she felt like she’d reached a dead end. “I’m not on the best terms with him” and I didn’t want you to see me as another spoilt brat that night, I didn’t want you to think I’m another awful ungrateful child, I didn’t want to open up then as I don’t now.

“And? How so” He asked, it felt like he had to push it out of her to speak but he would, with two strides he reached upto her seat and held her face in his hands, “I am not asking a lot of you am I? Why are you doing this to me? I want your hurt and your truth as raw as it is, I want it as I want all of you, fairly I deserve it. Please. Please talk to me y/n.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she held his hands in hers and pulled them away from her face. The desperation in his voice made it worse as she stood out of her seat.

“I was..I was supposed to go home, back to New York for summer. But my father cancelled it last moment.” She told him with a sigh turning slightly to the side from him, she could not say this to his face without breaking down. Opening up felt like being knifed from the inside. “And I was talking to him about it on the phone, I just didn’t want to tell you then.”

“Why did he cancel it?” He asked and moved her to face him.

By now she realise she couldn’t beat around the bush this way, he wouldn’t move past this and she couldn’t lie now “He said I’m not wanted back home.” She told him redirecting her father’s words. “He had a big launch for the company, it’s bad PR for him and he doesn’t like me around on big occasions.”

“What about your mum?” He asked softly and noticed how she felt silent to muster up proper words.

“My mum’s not—“ y/n breathed “she died giving birth to me. Labor complications at the hospital” she said as mildly as she could, this was her truth, the loss that defined her and it was strange how it hurt the same narrating it each time.

Felix was speechless as his gaze softened it took a lot in him to fathom her grief because she never looked it, “that’s why you got emotional back there, with the surprise.” He thought out loud.

“Yeah my dad forbade it…celebrating my birthday.” She mentioned, she’d grown up to digest it too. Who would deserve a celebration on the day their mother died?

“What about as a child?” He asked really shocked, he got the idea she was emotional and probably didn’t have the best birthdays but absolutely none?

“Not really, my nanny would get me cupcakes with candles till I was six and I was a sheltered kid so that was an ideal birthday to me” she said plainly “But I was-I think I turned 11, the house help with our kitchen staff organised me a small party it was on the kitchen table, balloons and chocolate cake…but my dad got home early that day, he tore down the happy birthday banner, threw the cake and the gifts, fired the staff and I was grounded, I haven’t really celebrated since.”

“At eleven?” He said taking in a sharp breath, it was more than a difficult life for a child to grow up without their mother and have a father like hers. “That’s just cruel”

“My birthday is a dreadful day for him, he loved my mum very much” she said trying to give him the reasoning she gave herself. Both of them were sitting on the floor cross legged leaning by the wall.

“You were a child. He resents your birthday’s enigma in the shadow of his grief.” Felix told her.

“He was a different man once, before me” she tried explaining it to him, despite of how resentful her father was to her how uncaring she wanted to be at the end of the day it was the only parent and only family she’d known all her life. Even her father yelling at her was the sound of her home. “The enigma of my birthday..” she repeated his words with a dejected huff “won’t change the fact that I’m the reason his wife isn’t in this world.”

Felix personally took an offence in that. Her father’s indifference had seeped that poison into her “Absolutely not.” He told her sternly and took her hands in his, “none of it was your fault. You didn’t ask to be born, but as his daughter you’re his daughter. His blood. He treats you with resentment that is a lack in his character. With the loss of his wife he also gained you…a daughter he was supposed to cherish.” He told her what she had to hear but he didn’t mean for her to cry again, opening up was difficult enough for her as it is. Enlacing his arms around her he pulled her into his lap and rubbed her back as she wept in his arms. Soothing sweet nothings he kissed the top of her head rocking her back and forth. “The world gained one of the purest souls with you.” He told her and pulled away to look at her face. Her eyes were full of tears as he wiped them again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “and if it wasn’t for you I’d have never felt this deeply for anyone.” He told her as it warmed her heart with all the pain through it and in his arms, for now, the world seemed just fine.

—

HIIII this is a new acc and English isn’t my first language also I’m a struggling stem major who writes to get over a bad test, pls be kind🙏

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND GO DRINK WATER NOW

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