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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

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Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her.

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance

Wordcount: 7.8k

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics.

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!).

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time.

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out.

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter.

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball.

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party.

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back.

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air.

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory.

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head.

Why on earth did he agree to this again?

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’

His glare softens by a fraction.

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting.

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here.

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down.

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’

‘Hm.’

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews) when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey.

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively.

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender.

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree -

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek.

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest.

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness.

Then he takes a breath.

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end .

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands.

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn.

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts.

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders.

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even worse .

Much, much worse.

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand.

He ends up face planting directly into her chest.

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – ,

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt.

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed.

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.

He takes her hand with a rare smile.

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband.

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees.

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough.

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product.

He appreciates that.

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal.

He likes that.

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify.

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules.

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer.

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls.

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently.

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings.

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together.

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes. He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so I know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb.

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks.

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’ on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way.

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod.

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other.

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north.

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself.

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant.

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course.

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night.

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands.

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence.

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify.

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle.

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind.

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’.

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze.

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before.

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze.

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant.

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways.

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day.

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on.

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially.

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time.

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands.

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss.

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her.

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain.

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars.

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up.

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer.

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air.

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands.

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look.

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either.

He finds himself wondering about them.

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text.

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two?

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion.

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’.

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him?

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers.

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card.

Oikawa Tooru .

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further.

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer.

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’

He blinks. That was unexpected.

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance.

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt.

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb.

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’.

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined.

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache.

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’.

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance.

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause.

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her.

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground.

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales.

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’.

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him.

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips.

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips.

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no – it’s always going to point towards her.

They move in together after that.

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards.

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife.

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while.

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep.

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much.

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold.

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning.

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob.

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly.

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other.

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell.

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes.

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way.

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’.

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them.

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in -

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place.

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open.

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’.

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal.

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat.

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath.

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.

He waits.

Then his phone buzzes.

Ah.

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.

“Omi?”

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first.

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind.

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what I want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’.

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face.

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles.

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date.

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again.

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two.

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more.

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party.

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association.

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread.

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name.

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make.

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’.

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake.

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out - pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead.

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability.

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud.

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser.

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist:

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 13

Chapter 1 Chapter 12

“You ready for this?” Dick asked flashing a charming, boyish grin that Marinette imagined many people had trouble saying no to. She was not one of those people. If she could say no to Adrien’s most charming, sappy, kitten eyes trained on her and Tikki’s most wide eyed, imploring, big blue eyes begging for cookies after a ‘grueling’ day wrangling the other kwami, she could say no to Dick’s blue eyes. It wasn’t even a contest.

However, she currently had no interest in saying no. She was actually really excited to swing on the trapeze with him… or alone, really at all. A bright smile spread across her face as she took in their trapeze rig. She’d never been on a trapeze, but she was hoping it would be like swinging on her yoyo. She and Adrien had put their superhero days behind them. They still wore their miraculous and of course she still had her guardian duties, but they didn’t transform anymore, preferring to move on from the painful memories and impossible balance. They loved being heroes but the strain it put on relationships, the lies, the responsibility… they never regretted their decision.

Wonder Woman knew how to get in touch with them should their services ever be absolutely necessary, but short of that, they were out. So this was the closest she was going to get to that feeling ever again, short of a world ending event, in which case, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anyway.

But this, she looked at the rigging again, this was going to be great. She turned to Dick, her bright smile spreading even wider and her eyes gleaming. “Absolutely!” She gripped her bag tighter then actually took in what Dick was wearing, tight tank top and bike shorts, and looked down at her own street clothes in realization. “Well, I mean not right now. I need to change,” she motioned to herself, “but as soon as I change I will be.”

Dick nodded and opened his mouth to say something but Bruce stepped in before he could say anything. “Good to see you again, Marinette.” He leaned in to do a la bise. He mentally congratulated himself for their first not awkward greeting. It was definite progress. “Let me show you where you can change.”

Marinette nodded and walked in the direction he indicated. She looked back over her shoulder to smile at Dick, but he was already turned around and focusing on checking the rigging. “How was New York?” Bruce asked, bringing her attention back to the two of them.

“New York was good. It was a good meeting. Mrs. Bourgeois wanted to speak with me personally about styling the shoot. I was originally scheduled to speak with an associate editor. I can’t imagine what changed in the last three weeks or so,” she joked with a smile at M. Wayne.

Bruce sighed and gave a resigned nod. “Yeah, once people find out, they can change the way they treat you.”

Marinette nodded, looking away in thought. “It was so strange. I’ve known her for years and all of a sudden she was trying to be nice.” She shuddered slightly. “That woman has never been nice a day in her life. Honestly, one of the creepiest feelings I’ve ever had.”

Bruce grimaced at Marinette’s first brush with being treated differently. “Sorry about that. I should warn you… we should sit down sometime and discuss security and social changes. People are going to do that now, want to get close to you because of your name. Not that you aren’t worth knowing without it!” he rushed to assure her once he realize what he said. “I just mean…”

“I understand,” Marinette cut him off kindly. “I have quite a few famous friends or friends with famous parents. I’ve seen how people try to get close to them because of that. I’ve even had people try to get close to me in order to get closer to them.” She rolled her eyes at the memories of the desperate people trying to flatter her and just dropping in mention of Adrien or Jagged.

Bruce looked at her sympathetically. “Sorry you had to deal with that.”

Marinette laughed at his apology. She laughed loud enough for it to echo off the walls of the hallway. The absurdity of thinking that was something to apologize for. That those experiences even registered on her hurt scale. “Don’t be ridiculous. None of that was your fault. They weren’t even bad. It was something for us to laugh about.”

Bruce gave her a small smile. “Hopefully it stays that way.” He stopped walking and motioned to a room. “This is your room.”

Marinette waited for the ‘while you’re here’ or ‘while you’re changing’, but they never came. And there was something off with the way he said it, a gravity that didn’t belong there. She looked between Bruce and the room a few times and pushed the door open. Like the rest of the house, the room was luxurious. Only the finest furniture and decorations. The room was filled with pink, silver, grey, and white. Everything coordinated and elegant. She was almost afraid to walk into the room lest she damage any of it.

She walked into the room timidly and tried to take in all the details. She scanned the room and gasped, her body going rigid, as her eyes rested on a crib against the far wall. She walked slowly toward the crib, almost like she was in a trance. Her eyes ran over the crib. There were still stuffed animals in it. It was almost like it hadn’t been touched in decades and except for the lack of dust in the room, she would believe it.

“I couldn’t…” Bruce started coming up behind her, “I could never bring myself to tear it down.” Marinette looked up at him wide eyed. She was too shocked to say anything. Her eyes moved to the bookshelf next to the crib. It was filled with children’s books and baby toys. “I can… I mean we can change it if you’d like.” His face wrinkled as he forced the words out. “I know it isn’t exactly,” he paused looking for the words. “I know it isn’t exactly an ideal room for a young woman.”

He sighed and looked around the room. He made his way over to a nightstand and picked up the framed picture standing on it. He sat on the bed still holding the frame. The luxurious bed sagged under him as if it was accustomed to his weight there. “For a while, it was the only part of you I still had.”

Marinette looked back at him, her lips parting in surprise at his admission. “Did I spend time here?” she asked quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear.

Bruce nodded. “You did. The grey cat stuffie was your favorite, MaoMao.” He looked up at her with a bittersweet smile. “You loved chewing on his ears.”

Marinette slowly walked over and sat next to him on the bed. She looked at the picture he was holding. He noticed her interest and held it out for her to take. Marinette took it, almost fearfully. She didn’t know what exactly she was afraid of, more knowledge? New knowledge? Everything changing yet again. Everything had been in constant flux for the past two weeks. She wanted things to settle but she needed to know more.

She looked at the image and immediately brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes already tearing up. The picture was of a much younger Bruce Wayne holding baby her. The look in his eyes was absolutely enamored. She was looking up at him with much the same expression, a wide, toothless grin on her face as she reached out for his face with one hand and clutched the stuffed cat to her chest with the other. It was the stereotypical image of a happy family. She ran her fingers over the image, trying to force herself to remember any part of that day, or any day here or with Bruce.

“That was out in the gardens behind the house. There’s a little creek back there that you loved. You kept trying to work your way over to it. Before you could walk, you’d crawl to it. Before you could crawl, you’d scooch. Before you could scooch, you’d roll.” He chuckled as a far off look overtook his eyes. “You were always very determined.”

“How much time did I spend here?” she asked.

Bruce let out a heavy sigh. “Your mother brought you once a week for a few hours.” He frowned. “Then when you were about ten months old, you spent an entire month here… while your mother was in the hospital.” Marinette whipped back to him, her eyes wide in surprise. Bruce gave a small, pained smile. “You two were caught in an attack that affected your building. Sabine took the brunt of the damage for you two, but there were other kids…”

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Marinette didn’t blame him. She’d seen similar scenes in Paris, bodies strewn about, children’s bodies littering the street after an akuma attack. Bodies she hadn’t been fast enough or good enough to save. She’d had the luxury of knowing it wasn’t permanent and she could save them. M. Wayne wouldn’t have had that.

“I still have nightmares about it,” he admitted hoarsely. She frowned at him in sympathy and laid her head on his shoulder. He froze for half a second before relaxing and laying his head against hers. “It’s why you left. Sabine and I were never going to get married. We both knew that. So I would never be able to keep you close enough to protect you. And if I couldn’t protect you by keeping you close…”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She pursed her lips. “Then you thought you’d do it by keeping a distance.”

Bruce nodded. Marinette nodded too, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say. She understood the reasoning. She understood making decisions based on nightmares. She had experience with it. The nightmares can seem so real, they have just as much effect on you as reality, sometimes more. They can mess with you in a way reality can’t. She understood all of it. And it helped. It didn’t make it okay. It didn’t make the hurt go away. It didn’t excuse not contacting her even after he made sure they were safe. But it helped.

Bruce suddenly stood up awkwardly. “Right well, Dick will be wondering where you are. I’ll just… get out of your way.” He shuffled stiffly for a few seconds trying to figure out if he should give a hug or just leave. He settled for a wooden pat on the back before retreating out of the room.

Marinette stared after him for a few seconds even after the door was closed before finally moving and slowly changing her clothes. She frowned at the room. Would it be better to change the room to exorcise the memories, or keep it the way it was? She really wasn’t sure. She’d have to get to know M. Wayne better before she could have a hint at the right answer.

She left her room and looked up and down the hallway, trying to remember the way back to the gymnasium. She made it to the end of the hall before she was lucky enough to run into someone. She quirked her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t live here.”

“I don’t,” Jason answered gruffly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m grabbing a book.” He held up his book as evidence of his claim. She raised the other eyebrow but kept silent. “I’m not here to see you on the trapeze.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she grinned.

“Shut up,” he looked away and ruffled her hair. She squawked an objection, making him smile. He motioned for her to follow him and guided her to the gym. “Just make sure you listen to Dickhead.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Not going to lie, doing what I’m told isn’t my forte.”

“Hey!” He looked suddenly very serious. He moved closer until he was almost towering over her. Marinette looked up at him wide eyed, caught off guard by the sudden change of mood. “I’m the rule breaker around here. Ask anyone. That’s my role. Get your own.”

Marinette held her serious look for a few seconds before her entire body started shaking from the giggles she was trying to suppress. She pushed through the doors to the gym still giggling. Jason huffed in mock annoyance and leaned against the doorframe. Dick perked up at seeing them and made his way over with an excited smile.

“Whatever. Just don’t wear that,” Jason motioned vaguely to her sports bra, tight tank top, and boy shorts, “around Roy.”

“You know Roy?” Dick asked with a frown.

“Why? He going to give me a workout?” she asked Jason with a smirk.

“No! He is not,” Dick exclaimed, face scrunching in distaste.

Jason shuddered and wrinkled his nose, making a gagging noise. “No,” he said definitively. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw up.”

Marinette gave him a mock concerned look, her eyes open wide in innocence. “Oh no, Jason! Are you not feeling well? You really shouldn’t drive yourself home. Should I call your partner to come get you?”

“Wait, how did you even meet Roy?” Dick tried again.

Jason narrowed his eyes at her. “I hope you fall.”

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed, his expression suddenly serious. “That’s not funny.”

Marinette cackled as Jason walked away. Dick shook his head at her and moved them into the gym. “Okay, let’s warm up first.” He got down on the padded floor and started stretching out encouraging Marinette to do the same. He watched her in surprise as she was able to stretch incredibly well for a civilian. She was better than most of his brothers. “You’re really flexible. Did you take classes?”

Marinette froze almost imperceptibly. If Dick hadn’t spent the last twenty years analyzing body language in order to survive, he would have missed it. She shrugged in an excellent imitation of nonchalance. “I sit behind a sewing machine for hours at a time so I make sure to stretch a lot.” She laughed lightly. “Probably a lot more than I need to.”

Dick watched her for a few seconds before nodding. “Right,” he said slowly. He looked her over one more time. “Well it’s working.”

Marinette gave him an overly wide smile. “Thanks.”

Dick eyed her suspiciously again but got up and grabbed something off the wall. “Now,” he held up a harness for her, “I’m going to hook up a harness. It’ll keep you from falling too fast and help with the moves.”

Marinette frowned at the thought. If she was hooked up, she wasn’t going to be able to fly like she wanted to. It wouldn’t feel like she imagined, like she just now realized she needed. She needed to feel the weight of gravity on her body pulling her down. The harness was going to throw her weight off. It was going to interfere with her movement. “Can we try it without the harness?” she asked tentatively.

Dick frowned at the idea, clearly not comfortable with it. She may have swung a few times with the heroes, but that wasn’t nearly enough to be safe on the trapeze. Maybe he could convince her to wear the harness for the first few swings and she’d realize how helpful it was. He looked back in her eyes and faltered. She was looking at him with wide, hopeful, innocent eyes. How was he supposed to say no to those eyes? “I…” he sighed and looked down defeated. “Do you know how to fall?”

Marinette gave him a deadpan look. “I’m the world’s foremost expert at falling.”

Dick blinked a few times and gave the deadpan look back at her. “That’s not making me feel better about not using the harness.”

“Can we try it?” she asked hopefully. “Just a few swings to get a feel for it and if I’m falling too much, we can try the harness.”

Dick sighed and looked down. It was the same logic he had been planning on trying, but she was using it against him. He ran his hand over his face in defeat. Yeah, she’d fit in the family perfectly. He glanced over to see Bruce peeking in and his eyes widened in realization. If he let Bruce’s daughter, his newly brought into his life daughter, get hurt, he’d never forgive Dick. “Okay, here’s the thing,” he started giving her his most pleading eyes. “If we do this without the harness and you fall, Bruce is going to skin me alive.”

Marinette gave him an understanding smile. She laid a reassuring hand on his arm and Dick breathed a sigh of relief and waited for her to agree to the harness. “I’d protect you, but you won’t need it. We start slow and build up. Trust me?” She turned her hopeful eyes back at him but they were somehow even wider and more pleading.

Dick groaned. “Fine.”

Marinette grinned brilliantly and jumped up and down in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you!” She jumped at Dick to give him a hug. Dick almost startled in surprise. A family member that wanted hugs and gave them freely? He hugged her tightly. Yes, please. Hopefully, everything would be fine and she was as good as she thought she was and nothing would happen and Bruce wouldn’t kill him, so he would be able to get more hugs in the future.

They climbed up on opposite sides and stood on the platforms facing each other. Dick got into position and showed Marinette so she could do the same. When she was positioned, he nodded and pushed off from the platform. “Okay, let’s start with getting the rhythm. It’s kind of like getting a swing into rhythm,” he explained. “When you’re ready to try, go ahead and let go.”

Before he even finished his sentence, Marinette had pushed off and started pushing the bar into a matching rhythm. Dick blinked a few times at how quickly and smoothly she’d gotten into a matching rhythm. It was a skill people worked at for days, sometimes weeks. Getting into a rhythm wasn’t incredibly difficult, most people got that somewhat quickly.

It was maintaining the same rhythm and matching your partner’s rhythm that took time and training. Honestly, if learning how to get the trapeze to swing smoothly was all she learned out of this time, he would have been impressed. But she was already far past that. She was swinging like it was second nature, like the physics of swinging and gravity were inherent.

“Good job,” he said a bit breathlessly. “Ready to try a simple move?”

Marinette grinned back and nodded in understanding before remembering he wouldn’t always be able to see her. She had to be very vocal about everything so he could react properly. “Yes,” she called out loudly.

“Okay, when I say go, let go of your bar and hold out your arms for me to grab.”

“Okay,” Marinette called out. She focused on maintaining her momentum and enjoying the way the air pushed back against her as she glided through it, the resistance creating a familiar feeling of a breeze against her skin. The baby hairs around her hairline, the only hair free of her tight bun, were blowing back and forth as she moved.

As soon as she heard Dick say ‘go’, she let go and arched her back, reaching for him. She free fell for only a moment before Dick caught her forearms in a strong grip. She grabbed his forearms too in a tight grip and looked up to meet his eyes. Their eyes met, exhilarated smiles on both their lips.

Dick grinned in surprise at the success. He’d been expecting her to fall, to be honest. The first time doing a catch almost always resulted in falling unless the person was well trained or well prepared, which he admittedly hadn’t done for Marinette. It was a fumble of arms reaching and tangling, grasping for each other, but moving at the same time, trying to anticipate but guessing wrong. But she understood how to do a catch. She understood to trust her partner to catch her.

He grinned wider at what that meant; she trusted him! His face suddenly turned serious. “Okay, here’s the tricky part. I’m going to count to three. When I say three, I’m going to let go. You’ll need to twist around and grab the bar.”

Marinette’s expression turned serious as well, though her eyes still sparkled with delight. “Understood.”

Dick nodded. “One… two… three.” He let go on three and Marinette twisted in time to grab the bar, both of them frozen for a moment in weightlessness while she waited for gravity to take over.

She swung away from Dick but quickly flipped on the bar so she was facing him again. Dick chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s get more complex, what do you think?”

Marinette’s grin got wider and her eyes impossibly brighter. “Yes, please.”

Dick laughed loudly, his laughter echoing off the walls, her laughter quickly joining his. They swung together for almost half an hour, trying increasingly difficult tricks until they finally got to one Marinette couldn’t do. Dick’s eyes widened in surprise as she fell in front of his eyes. He was so accustomed to her keeping up with him, it was a shock when she didn’t. His heart started pounding and he scrambled to get back to the platform until he heard Marinette’s giggles. He looked down and saw her bounding across the bouncy net toward the ladder.

When she got to the platform she looked over at him with a grin. “Try it again?”

Dick grinned at her and flipped back over on his bar. “Let’s go then.”

The trick ended in the same result, but Dick joined her in the net on purpose this time. “Maybe try to build up to that?” Dick suggested.

Marinette nodded as she tried to catch her breath. “Sounds fun.”

“Did you want to try it on your own?” Dick offered. “You seem like you’re comfortable up there.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in excited surprise. “Really!”

Dick chuckled and nodded. “Have at it.”

Marinette bounced back over to the ladder and quickly made her way to the bar. She started swinging and twisting on it, using the zero gravity to do solo tricks. Dick was so engrossed in her performance he almost forgot to get out of the net. She was so graceful and elegant, like she knew exactly what gravity was going to do down to the millimeter. It wasn’t at his level, she clearly hadn’t been trained. But she was also clearly not a novice.

After a while she fell down into the net again breathing heavily. She grinned at Dick. “That was amazing. Thank you! I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

Dick helped her down from the net, immediately returning the hug she gave him before he could set her down. “I had fun too. Anytime you want to use it, feel free. Just come on over.”

Marinette gave him a small nod. Her smile still hadn’t died down at all. “Let’s cool down.” Dick motioned toward the padded mat again. He and Marinette sat across from each other and started stretching again. Dick watched her as she stretched, that spark never leaving her eyes. He knew the feeling well, that felling you get from flying, the freedom, the release.

Images of her growing up with them, him being able to teach her trapeze from the time she was a baby ran through his head. Fantasies of being a big brother to her, keeping her safe, teaching her, sharing the feeling of flying together… all of it gone. No chance to happen. Because Bruce walked away from her and straight to him.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was heavy, weighted down with guilt.

Marinette quirked her head to the side and blinked a few times. Her mind raced trying to figure out what he could possibly be referring to. “Did something happen?”

Dick shook his head, his eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to figure out how to say what he was feeling. “I.. I’m… he… I was the one he took in after…”

Marinette’s eyes softened immediately. She laid a hand on Dick’s arm. “Dick,” she started softly. “You don’t have to apologize for getting adopted, for finding a home where you felt safe and loved. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she assured him.

Dick searched her eyes for any evidence she didn’t believe what she was saying, but there was only sincerity and a touch of bittersweetness. “Neither did you.” His voice was sure and supportive. His eyes bored into her, pushing against her boundaries.

Marinette looked away quickly. She hummed noncommittally. “Except going to the gala,” she said wryly. “I should have just let Adrien take care of it. As soon as I found out I should have…” she trailed off, unsure how to end it.

Dick moved closer to her and threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side. “But then we wouldn’t have met for who knows how long,” he offered with a bright smile.

Marinette let out a heavy breath and smiled at how hard he was trying. She looked back up at him from the corner of her eye. “And what a shame that would be.”

Dick’s grin got wider. “Exactly!” He hugged her closer for a few moments as the smile slowly faded from his face. “I just want to let you know I’m here for you. I'm sure this is really overwhelming and Bruce has never been good with conveying... or feeling... emotions. But if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here.”

He moved away so he could see her more clearly. “I missed out on being your big brother growing up and we’ll never get that time back. And to be honest, I’m extremely upset with Bruce about that. But I’d like to make up for that lost time now. So if you need anything, I’m here. You want anything, I’m here. You want to talk, I’m here. You want to yell or scream at somebody, I’m here. If you have a problem you need help with, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette looked up at him in surprise. She blinked a few times uncertain what to say. “I…” She closed her mouth quickly, still not sure how to finish the sentence. After a few moments she smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Dick.”

Dick pulled her in for another hug, enjoying the feeling of her reciprocating. Maybe she could show their other siblings how to do that without it being a life threatening situation. Dick grinned widely as he squeezed her tight and rested his head on hers. “Or if you just want a hug. To tell you a secret, I give the best hugs in the family.”

Marinette scoffed playfully as she pulled away from him. “I don’t know, Jason gives good hugs.”

Dick snapped his eyes to hers. “Jason gives hugs!”

They almost jumped with Bruce walked in with a wide smile. “How was it?” He watched them with a smile as they stood together and stayed close after rising. It was absolutely no surprise that Dick was able to get so close to her so quickly, but it was still reassuring to see it.

“It was amazing!” Marinette enthused. “I had so much fun! I can’t wait to do it again.”

Bruce smiled. “Any time you want,” he promised. “Any time you want to come over, feel free. No need to call first.” He paused for a moment. “Although maybe not in the middle of the night. “It would wake Alfred up. He’d be more than happy to let you in but we already put him through so much.”

Marinette smiled and chuckled. “I understand. I’ll keep the visits to the daytime.” She looked up just in time to see Dick giving Bruce a significant look. Dick played it off with a wide smile that Marinette pretended to buy. She also pretended not to notice the look Bruce gave him back. She shuffled a few times before looking quietly between them. “Um… I’ll just… I’m going to take a shower and change back.”

Bruce nodded with a soft smile. The smile was so convincing, Marinette would never have thought anything suspicious was going on if she hadn’t seen the look they gave each other… immediately after Dick spent the afternoon with her. “You know the way back to your room?”

Marinette nodded rapidly. “Of course. Thank you.” She turned to Dick again. “And thank you. This was a lot of fun.”

Dick shook his head with a smile. “You don’t have to thank me, Marinette. I wanted to spend time with you. I look forward to doing it again.”

Marinette nodded to him and left the room as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion. As soon as she was out of eyesight, she speed walked back to the room, closing the door quickly behind her. She leaned against the door and banged her head against it lightly a few times. It was okay, she tried to reassure herself. They didn’t know her yet, of course they would have secrets and want to talk about what they learned about her. She knew that. But it still hurt.

As soon as Marinette was out of ear shot, Bruce turned back to Dick. “How did she do?”

“She’s done that before,” Dick reported to Bruce, keeping his voice low so Marinette couldn’t hear him.

“We knew that,” Bruce answered just as quietly. “She said the heroes took her around sometimes.” He pursed his lips tightly at the thought. Even knowing nothing happened, he wasn’t happy about it. The only thing he could think of was all the things that could have happened to her if their villain would have found out.

“No,” Dick cut in before Bruce could brood too hard. “She’s done something similar enough to be comfortable with it, enough that she soared, she flew. Enough that her body instantly fell into the rhythm, into trusting someone else to catch her. Those things are learned, Bruce. I think she had a closer relationship with the heroes than we think she did.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Dick, processing his words. He nodded and looked back to the hallway Marinette had disappeared down. “The heroes disappeared. Diana said she can’t even contact them anymore. Marinette’s the only one who can tell us more.”

Dick nodded. “I’ll see what I can do when we get together on Monday for Duke’s reading.”

“Carefully,” Bruce cautioned. He glanced over to catch Dick’s flat look. “I don’t want to push her. She’s your sister. She’s family, not a source. She’s not a suspect. She’s not even a victim. We don’t need this information. It would be nice to know, but we can live without it. She’s allowed her privacy. Plus she’s smart. You start asking questions, she’s going to get suspicious and may get upset we’re digging into things she doesn’t want to talk about.”

“I know how to talk to people, Bruce,” Dick scoffed. “I’m better at talking to your kids than you are, if you recall.”

“I’m well aware,” Bruce conceded. “I just… I don’t want to upset her. She’s allowed her privacy.”

“And I’ll respect that. And her,” Dick assured him. He paused for a few seconds before he broached the next subject. It was going to be delicate, one that neither of them wanted to consider. “So the question is, if she did have a closer relationship with the Parisian heroes, when did her relationship with Adrien start. And why.”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “You think he started it because he knew she was close to the heroes? You think he was working with his father?” He stared intently at Dick trying to gauge how serious he was about this. “It doesn’t make sense for him to still be with her if that’s all it was. And Ladybug told Wonder Woman Adrien was not involved,” Bruce said quietly. “She vouched for him.”

“And we trust her word?” Dick asked in the same tone.

Bruce paused as he thought about it. They really didn’t know Ladybug at all. She’d disappeared after the last fight and only Wonder Woman seemed to have had any contact with her, and limited contact at that. The League had never gotten the chance to gauge her competence in areas outside of fighting. “She said he helped give evidence to take his father down,” he started tentatively.

“But…” Dick prompted.

Bruce let out a deep sigh. This was not going to go over well with Marinette, but if Adrien was using her, they needed to know. “But it could be a cover. We don’t know enough to completely excuse him and we don’t know enough about Ladybug or Marinette to know how good of a judge they are.”

Dick nodded. “We proceed with caution.”

“Extreme caution,” Bruce stressed. “You heard how she talked about him at dinner. She’s very protective of him. Questioning Adrien is going to take more delicacy and tact than questioning her, I think.”

Dick nodded and looked down the hallway toward her room. He would have to spend the next few days doing research before they met up on Monday.

Chapter 14

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8 @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - fantasy

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migilini · 4 years ago

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Not So Secret Anymore - Charlie Gillespie

summary: It’s hard to hide a relationship from the public, particually when both work on the same show.

words: 2.5k

warnings: fluff

a/n: not my fave but i still somehow like it.

Requests are open :)

MASTERLIST

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

September

"When do we have our first interview?" you asked the boy whose head was in your lap. He looked up from his phone and your eyes locked with his green ones "Hmm, my calendar says in about 30 minutes."

You groaned at that and stopped playing with Charlie's hair which earned you a grunt and whine from him. "Sorry babe but I think I have to go, so I still have time to get ready and set up." You muttered and gave him a small kiss on his brown hair.

"Uhh fine." The weight lifted from your legs, you stood up and before you knew it you were thrown over his shoulder. Laughing, you slapped his butt and back repeatedly. "Babe! I mean it" you tried to press out between giggles, "we both decided to keep us a secret." He sat you down on the kitchen isle and cornered your body in between his arms, standing right in front of you, you're back hitting the kitchen cabinet.

"I know... come back later?" he asked and tilted his head, looking at you with big puppy eyes. "You know it." After a swift kiss, or rather a little make out session, you were on your way back to your own appartement. Just in time to change your top and put on a lip-gloss before opening your laptop and joining the interview.

"Hello everybody! I'm here with the cast of Netflix' Julie and the Phantoms that came out on Thursday. How are you guys?" the interviewer asked and smiled into the camera of his laptop. The whole cast chirped in with a good, great, or amazing.

"That's fantastic!" he clapped his hands "Now, Jeremy, how would you describe your Character and the show in general?"

"It's a show about ghosts from 1995 who come back 25 years later and join a band with Julie who didn't sing a note after her mother died. Reggie, the character that I play, is one of those ghosts and he is a loveable himbo. Did I use that word correctly Maddie?"

Maddie smiled and the interviewer changed the topic "Madison and y/n, birds have told me that this was your first ever acting job is that right?"

You nodded and signaled Maddie to speak first "Yes, and it was both amazing and traumatizing! I was so nervous, but the crew really helped to calm me down, especially y/n who just was in the same position as me, so we freaked out together most of the time." She smiled and the interviewer waited for you to answer. "Except, Maddie had a least some acting training at school, that's why she is the best. I more or less walked into the whole situation." You said laughing.

"I love this story." Jeremy exclaimed, making you slightly blush at his words.

"Would you be so kind and tell us?" the interviewer questioned and smiled at your little nod.

"Yes, yes of course. Well, I was on vacation with one of my good friends from back home..."

"She means Germany." Owen interrupted with a smile on his lips. "Yes, Owen. Thank you for adding important details. Anyways, we saw that there was an Open Audition nearby and though why not? We don't have anything to lose or to do on that particular day. And here I am, my friend sadly didn't get in."

"That really is an amazing story, I can see why Jeremy likes it so much. So, Charlie how would you describe y/n's and Luke's characters, she wasn't supposed to be in the script and was later added in right?" Charlie quirked up at the mention of your name and stated proudly. "Indeed, she impressed Kenny so much that he wrote a character just for her. He thought that Sunset Curve, the band name before we died, needed a female to handle their chaos or well... at least tries to. Y/N plays Allie, who against common speculation isn't any of the boys' love interest which is a very nice turn of events. She and Luke bud head a lot because Luke only thinks about music and the band and she tries hard to make him take breaks every now and then."

A lovesick smile sat on your face while you listened to your boyfriend of nearly a year, once you realized your expression you quickly shook it off. Hiding this relationship was definitely going to be harder than expected.

The Interviewer asked some more questions before the last and dreaded question was thrown your way. "So, most of your fans are wondering if any of you guys are in a relationship." You and Charlie had discussed a million times before what you guys would say in such a moment, the two of you shared a look.

Jeremy's eyes switched from Charlie's box on his screen to y/n's before answering "I have a lovely wife! The rest of us are happily single, right guys?"

"100%" Maddie added, while Owen only shrugged, his dog conveniently jumping into his lap.

"How about the other two?" he eyed up the last remaining.

"Very single" Charlie laughed, and you agreed "Totally."

As time went on it was harder and harder for the two of you to hide the relationship, as you two spent nearly every day together and therefore did the same activities. Particularly after your social media accounts have gained over a million followers and people started to ship actors and tv show characters. But you two loved the little secret bubble you've created, there was no pressure to take good pictures together, or to post stories, to be asked a thousand questions about your relationship and no hate towards any of you.

December

It has been 4 months since the show released and the hype it got definitely was way more than you ever expected. It blew your mind. Currently, you are on Charlie and yours one-year anniversary / Christmas / good deeds vacation. Charlie and you found a good mix, that made you both happy, between chilling and doing adventurous things.

It was Christmas eve and Maddie wanted to do a 'guess the song Christmas Edition' with the main cast. Eagerly you agreed and hurried from the beach, where Charlie currently took the quiz at the bar you both sat on just minutes before, to your shared bedroom. You shot Maddie a quick text that you were 'out of the relationship zone' and ready when she was ready.

"Helloooo. How did the others do?"

"Not the worst but I still have faith in you to win this. ARE YOU READY?" she screamed the last part.

“I’m going to read you the lyrics of a christmas song and you have to guess the next line. There are certain cards that give one point and others give two. Whoever has the most points at the end…”

“Hopefully get your earrings” you asked with a sly smile and your shoulders raised.

Maddie laughed but shook her head “Sadly, no. I haven't figured out the price yet, but I for sure will! I like your backdrop by the way.” she added and you quickly looked behind you. You sat crisscrossed on the hotel room floor, you used the coffee table and a water bottle as a phonestand and used a white checkered wall as a background to try and hide the fact that you didn't sit in your living room.

January

“This should be the last box.” you cheered into the empty hall and shut the front door with a light push from your hip. Charlie popped his head out of the bedroom and walked over to, dropping his head on your shoulder in exhaustion. Nothing was set up, boxes stood randomly all over the apartment, the fridge stood there still empty and a lonely mattress covered the bedroom floor.

“The walls look a bit bare don't you think?” you said about a week later, standing in the middle of the now a bit furnished living room. Strong arms sneaked their way around your waist and a head dropped on your shoulder.

“Hmm… you're right. What do you have in mind?” Charlie said and turned you around so you were facing him. He smiled at the spark in your eyes “I was thinking, a yellow akzent wall with random secondhand pictures and some pictures of us, all in frames of course. So it's gonna have this homey and creative atmosphere.” You rambled on for a while longer, telling him where you think his instruments could go, the pillows you saw online and thought they worked perfect with the colour of the couch. Charlie just stared at you, a dumb smile on his lips with his arms around you.

“Do you not like it?” you noticed that he hasn't talked for a while and got worried. “I love it. We could live in a dumpster for all I care, as long as I have you by my side.” You fake gaged at his romantic words and gave him a kiss.

The first time people got really suspicious was the time you accidentally walked in on a live he had on Instagram. He sat in front of his instruments, phone propped up before him. You thought that he was already finished but you were wrong.

“Do you think this…” you walked into the room, a shirt in your hand that you just took out of the dryer and lost your words the moment you saw him sitting in front of his phone. He looked at you with wide eyes, his brain clearly searching for a good excuse.

“Is that y/n?” he read outloud from the chat, gesturing you do sit next to him. “Yes it's her! We’re hanging out and she helped me with my washing because I somehow still don't know how to do it.” he laughed nervously, his hand grabbing yours out of the frame.

“He promised me food and I live really close by, so I thought I'll help this poor man out.”

May

Looking back at this moment now, you and Charlie weren't sure why you just didn't come clean. You didn't mean to hide the relationship this long, it just kinda happened and at one point it just got too awkward to tell. It was fairly easy to hide most of the time, you didn't most that much on instagram and Charlie only showed parts of his daily life.

The easiest was the time you filmed JATP Season 2. You were expected to hang out and live together. Back in 2019 you already lived with Owen and Charlie. This time poor Owen had to live with a couple instead of just two friends. (You were already dating for a while back then but didn't tell the cast, to not make a fuss.)

It wasn't like the fans didn't suspect a thing, especially after Owen posted a video of you two fooling around.

Everybody sat outside, enjoying the everwarming sun on their skin. Half of the cast was already in costume just waiting for the break to end. In typical Allie (your character) fashion you wore an overall with a tight tank top underneath, your makeup stood out from the others with the heavy blush, freckles and black eyeliner.

Charlie, in his Luke wardrobe, thought that it was funny to stand in front of you to shield you from the sun.

"Stop that" you whined and tried to shove him away, which was harder than you thought considering he stood before you and you sat on a bench.

"Make me." He flirted and stood even wider before you, puffing out his chest. Raising an unimpressed eyebrow, you stole his beany with a swift motion. His expresion quickly changed from cocky to shocked, snickering was heard from Maddie who was used to this type of behaviour.

"Ups… heavy wind blows in the shadows." You explained nonchalantly and pulled the beany on your head, sticking your tongue out at your boyfriend.

"Oh it's on my lady" he growled "I'm giving you a three second advantage. One…" your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up. "Two…" you got up and scanned the place internally making a good running line. "Th-.." you began sprinting across the lot. You heard the laughing from your castmates behind you as you and Charlie ran in circles.

Unfortunately, he was still fitter and faster than you and about a minute into the running he had you thrown over his shoulder.

"Surrender!" he screamed as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

"Never!" You screamed back and wiggled even harder.

"Surrender or i'll have to tickle you" he warned and those were the last words Owen was able to film before a producer yelled that the break was finished.

February

“Baby, if I would believe this News Article, you have a secret girlfriend, but it's not me.” you showed him your phone screen.

“I’m not cheating on you. I would never, i'd die rather than…” his frantic expression made you snort. “I know. Oh my god! People saw you with Lia.” you held his hands comfortably.

“Lia as in your best friend Lia?”

“The one and only. People noticed the hickeys... At least they’re getting closer now. So are we still on for the masterplan? You by instruments and I'm gonna sit in the bedroom?" He nodded and smiled at the sight of your equally plastered neck.

Eventually, before you even were able to execute the as you'd like to say 'masterplan' your relationship got outed. I mean it was time, the two of you getting lazier with the hiding as time went by.

Fans noticed that you wore a lot of Charlie's things and that you and him always seemed to be at the same place at the same time. It was actually one of your lives that spilled the secret.

"That's a really nice akzent wall" you read outloud from the chat "oh thank you! It was a long process to get all the pictures but it was actually Charlie's idea to not only have pictures but also plane tickets, date memories and so on hung up on that wall. It really makes it homey. I think to get that wall this crowded it took us...what? About well since we moved in…" you didn't even realise what you said you just babbled and then it was out.

"Charlie actually is home! I could call him. Babe! Come here for a sec- oh my god!" Your hands flew up to your mouth in realizion.

From that moment on you were public and your social media exploded once again. However the two of you were happy to finally show each other off.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x y/n #jatp fanfic

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sailorhyunjinz · 4 years ago

Text

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions.

What if this love was one sided?

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

“Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good...

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date?

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets.

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it.

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration.

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy.

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting.

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile.

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend”

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking.

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!”

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting.

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off.

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart.

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself.

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival.

“y-yeah, it really is”

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated.

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head.

“I didn’t know heh...”

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves.

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?”

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands.

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem.

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger.

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints.

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you.

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension.

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather.

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss.

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening.

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine.

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream.

“D-does it feel good?”

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction.

“Did you think I was innocent?”

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb.

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed.

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad.

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow.

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again.

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips.

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch.

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm.

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table.

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent.

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end.

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head.

“A-about,,, you”

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry.

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time.

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought.

“Are you ok, y/n?”

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him.

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size.

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-”

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips.

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat.

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth.

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never.

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face.

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-”

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it.

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out.

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile.

“Do you like me?”

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you.

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure.

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking.

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand.

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp.

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?”

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you?

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other.

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours.

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

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leviaju · 5 years ago

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers�� but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

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hawkinsindiana · 4 years ago

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were you ever going to tell me?

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER THREE OF TEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: god damn.... it’s been a while. happy fuckin’ new year! hope you enjoy one of the most angst ridden chapters ruby and i have ever written. also pretty sure there’s going to be ten chapters! obvi i will inform you if that changes! hope you all have been staying safe and healthy! mwah!

masterlist

You and Steve haven’t spoken since Friday night when it slipped from your lips how you’ve felt - how you’ve felt about him for a year.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that it’s over. You should’ve known better than to keep something like that from him, that’s overwhelming information for anyone to receive. Even though the words “we’re done” haven’t been said, you’re positive that they don’t need to be.

And Steve - god, he hasn’t known what to think about it all. Unconsciously, he’s spent the last two days reliving everything, and of course you had feelings for him. You threw away so much for him and he rarely returned the favor. He almost hates how devoted you were - no, he doesn’t mean that.

He can’t mean that.

Steve’s wanted to reach out every moment that you two have been apart. He doesn’t blame you for the fact that you haven’t, he can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head; he assumes you’re pissed beyond belief.

The school day’s been tough. Knowing that Steve’s here and inside these walls, it makes you flare up with embarrassment and shame. You can’t wait to get out of here.

Jonathan’s voice startles you a bit when he approaches your locker, just passing by on his way out to say goodbye. Concern blooms from within him at the way you hold yourself, how your eyes can’t seem to focus on anything in particular as you turn the dial.

He clears his throat as he tries to come with something to discuss, “So, uh - do anything else fun over the weekend? Will told me you watched something spooky. Hopefully Dustin wasn’t too annoying this time.”

Jonathan laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “Like remember that time we took them to see Cujo? I felt so bad for the other people in the theater.”

“I, um-“ You stutter over your words as you swing the door open, mind flashing back to events on Friday, “No, I didn’t do anything else this weekend. It was pretty shitty, actually.”

“Bummer,” Jonathan leans against the column as you unzip your backpack and begin to unload your belongings. His brow furrows further once he notices something else is off, until he finally realizes what.

“Steve’s runnin’ late today,” Jonathan checks his watch, “You two are typically joined at the hip right about now.”

And by the way your jaw clenches and your actions freeze slightly, Jonathan can tell he unwillingly struck a nerve.

Your throat starts to close up as you think about him again, feeling the familiar burning sensation behind your eyes, “I haven’t, uh, I haven’t seen him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jonathan watches you intently. He hasn’t seen you like this in a while - not since the day after Halloween. The puzzle starts to put itself together.

He leans in a touch closer; his whispers are covered by the rustling sound of you putting on your windbreaker, “Did something happen? Are you two… you know, good?”

You’re an inch away from whisking Jonathan somewhere else to tell him everything. Over the past few months - but especially over the last couple days - you’ve been tempted to let the secret spill. Keeping all your feelings in, both the good and the bad, doesn’t feel like such a good idea anymore.

You figured that Nancy would be the person you’d tell. While it’d probably be awkward at first, she is the one who told you to go for it, regardless of the past.

But Jonathan’s right here. And someone else has to know.

“You can’t tell anyone else,” You say, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your tone matches his, quiet and hushed underneath the obnoxiously loud commotion of the hallway.

Jonathan’s face twists; both curiosity and concern is laced throughout his expression, “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

The experiences you’ve shared will bond you forever. You’d trust Jonathan with your life - you figure he can handle this piece of information too.

A deep sigh passes from your lips. You don’t know why you’re so scared to admit this.

“Steve and I, we - we’re, uh…” Your hand moves absently in the air as you try to find the words. But when you trail off in search of them, your silence says enough. Jonathan’s brow raises in realization - it all makes so much sense.

And Jonathan goes to answer, mouth opening but he doesn’t get to respond. Instead, his attention is brought to your side. He kicks your shoe to grab your gaze, which moves quickly between Jonathan’s eyes, and where they landed.

You avert your focus from Steve as soon as you see that it’s him. The quick glance is enough to transport you to that night, and the emotions you felt watching him leave.

“Hey,” Steve speaks softly as he comes up beside you, sending a nod and light wave to Jonathan before he leans in a touch closer, “Can we talk?”

Jonathan takes that as his cue to leave - he wishes you both a good-bye. As your friend disappears into the crowd, you bite down onto the inside of your lip.

“Yeah,” Your voice trembles, afraid because this is it. You can’t bring your gaze to meet Steve’s again, “Yeah sure.”

“Let’s uh-” Steve mutters, clearing his throat as you pull the collar of your coat away from your neck. His eyes fly around the hallway, catching sight of the other students that mill around in the space. Not here.

Steve exhales before he speaks, “What do you say we go for a drive?”

—

Every few seconds, Steve’s eyes drift between the empty road and you; your leg bounces wildly in the silence. He’s trying to figure out how to compile his thoughts - he doesn’t even know where to begin.

The longer you both sit without speaking, the more anxious you become. You wish you had an inkling of what he plans to say. You wish you could prepare.

Steve shifts in his seat, voice faltering a bit, “Um, are you... hungry? Wanna grab something?”

God, you hate how considerate he can be.

You lean your head against the hand you propped on the armrest. You haven’t taken your eyes away from the landscape beyond the window since buckling in. It takes every fabric of your being to try and forget that Steve’s beside you; it’s the only way you can attempt to calm yourself down.

It doesn’t help that every time you’re in Steve’s car, you’re surrounded by memories.

Like when you spent ten minutes explaining the chemistry assignment, only for him to grab your notes and toss them into the front seat.

You protested, about ready to smack him when his fingers danced over your jaw, pulling you closer. He kissed you for a moment before muttering against your lips, “I think I’d rather study our chemistry instead.”

You couldn’t take him seriously after that comment; you laughed until your stomach hurt. Steve couldn’t even be offended, the sound of your giggles only brought a smile to his face.

“I don’t what you think is so funny,” He quipped, smirking as he looked back at you, “That was one of my best ones!”

You scoffed, “You say a lot of cheesy shit, Harrington. But that? That was the worst one out of them all.”

Steve didn’t get a chance to reply, because you took his face in between your palms and kissed him. Your love for him is more powerful than all the horrible jokes and puns he could come up with. In fact, they only made you love him more.

How different that moment was in comparison to the one you’re in now. You figure that it’ll take everything you have to try and get over him.

“I’m not hungry,” You say curtly, with a tone much harsher than you intended. You immediately regret it.

“I’m sorry, I just…” The sentence falls short, you’re not sure where it was going. You felt the need to apologize for something. This is your fault, after all.

Steve hears you curse under your breath as you ponder how to continue. Another moment passes.

You sigh before leaning back against the seat, the anger at yourself only grows with each passing second, “God, I fucked up-”

“You’re not the one who fucked up,” Steve interrupts suddenly. He runs his fingers through his hair aggressively, irritated by his own actions from the other night. He never should have left.

“Sometimes I just…” Steve pauses as he stops the car at a red light, “I can’t believe how selfless you are. And I just don’t know how to handle it most of the time.”

“I can’t imagine putting my own feelings aside for a whole year, just for another person’s happiness. I’m not sure if that’s selfish or not.”

Steve takes a deep breath, relishing in the admittance of his guilt. He figures that’s something he should do more often - he carries so much of it with him.

Barb. Nancy. The endless list of others who were touched by his lack of empathy.

And now you. It might be too late to make it up to them, but he can certainly try to make it up to you. Hopefully, you can forgive him in time.

“It was a second. A second, and then I turned and realized how it seemed, that I didn’t want you anymore but I do. God, I do.”

You start tearing up a bit because his words hit you harder than you were expecting, “You turned back?”

Steve looks to you briefly before he nods, “Right as you locked the door, yeah.”

He doesn’t give you time to reply; he continues speaking as the light turns green, “I’m just so lucky to have you. And I’m sorry. I never should have left that day.”

In that moment, the relief floods your face. Once again, you expected the worst - you’ll have to learn to stop doing that. Especially with Steve.

But Steve grows more concerned over what your expression implies. The anxiety you displayed wasn’t for no reason, he figures.

“You weren’t worried about anything besides that, right? You didn’t think I was gonna… break up with you, were you?”

His voice is so weak with emotion because all you’ve shown him has been devotion and love and more affection than he could’ve dreamed of; this is how he pays it back? Your silence is answer enough.

A tear finally rolls down your cheek, but you can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders at these revelations. The only sound is that of the rain that’s begun to hit the windshield. It’s strangely soothing after the previous conversation.

Steve reaches over the center console to hold your hand in his; you laugh and sniffle a bit, wiping your eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “We’re not very good at this, are we?”

Steve's looking a little downtrodden - as you’re sure you are too - but his eyes are shining and he’s grinning, so it can’t be that bad.

“No,” He chuckles too, his thumb tracing over the back of your hand tenderly, “But we’ll learn.”

—

The following weeks are fairly uneventful in regards to your relationship. Since that day, you’ve been more transparent with each other. While you were afraid the truth would only cause pain, it’s actually brought you peace.

It hasn’t gotten any easier to face your brother, unfortunately. Every time you mention that Steve’s picking you up, Dustin’s eyes grow wide.

“Can I come?” He begs. You always sigh - you both know that the answer is yes. Neither you nor Steve can ever seem to say no to Dustin. Especially now that a few of the kids have begun to couple up, your brother is lonelier than ever.

While Steve might love the kid, that doesn’t mean he’s thrilled to see Dustin by your side every time. The glares that Steve sends your brother when he isn’t looking puts you in stitches.

Steve can handle your brother crashing your dates - he figured that might happen. He wasn’t prepared to attempt to avoid all of them.

You were sure that you would finally be able to see this movie together with Dustin at Will’s with the others for the weekend. You leaned into Steve’s side, with his arm over your shoulder, just subtle enough to go unnoticed in the darkness of the theater.

It’s some cheesy film - neither of you knows or even cares what the title is because you get to be that couple at the movies, when out of nowhere-

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell me you were coming, we’ve missed like a quarter of the movie!”

You and Steve scramble to part; Steve goes beet red, hissing under his breath, “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!”

“He wasn’t! I don’t know how he even found out!”

Dustin plops himself in the seat next to yours, popcorn spilling onto the ground, “What did I miss?”

Steve coughs and it brings Dustin’s attention to the blush on his face, “Were… were you guys gettin’ cozy?”

“No!” You both exclaim; several people shush you in the audience.

Dustin’s not sure he believes you. He offers you his box of Milk Duds, “Want some?”

His offer only fuels your annoyance with him further, “No, I don’t want any! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were at Will’s!”

Dustin gestures next to him as he shrugs, dumping the box of chocolates into his tub of popcorn, “Yeah, but we got bored. Mike mentioned the idea, and Max wanted to see this anyways!”

Steve groans when he sees the pack of them settling into the seats next to your brother, each of them with snacks in each hand. Mike tilts his drink towards your boyfriend, his smirk growing with every second. Steve decides telling Mike your Friday night plans is no longer a good idea.

With all of that aside, there is one thing that has been bothering Steve. He decides to inquire about it one night.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Steve questions; his voice breaks the silence. In the darkness, his eyes are trained on the pale color of the ceiling, absently focused on nothing. He doesn’t understand why it’s been on his mind, because it’s not important anymore. You’re together now, that’s all that matters. Right?

But it’s been keeping him awake - the curiosity. He’s not used to that.

“Hm?” Exhausted, that’s all you can muster as a response. You’re tucked against his side - every time he breathes, you rise with the motion. You like the reminder that Steve’s really here, lying with you in the late night’s twilight.

“How you felt. About me.”

Oh.

He doesn’t need to elaborate further because you know how his mind works. It’s likely that he’s been obsessively picking apart your words, trying to find any glimmer of hope; they were devastating to him.

Your chest heaves before answering, almost afraid of giving him the reason. Softening your tone, you finally answer him, “No, no I wasn’t.”

Steve has a thousand thoughts swirling through his head now; it doesn’t make any sense that you’d want to keep yourself from a chance at happiness. He has so many things he wants to tell you, wants to ask you - but he only comes up with one.

“Why?”

It’s quiet, quieter than anything spoken so far. It seems silly, but his question contains so much sadness because he doesn’t understand it. It’s only three letters, but each one makes your body flood with emotion. And even though it’s right there, in the forefront of your mind, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Maybe, if you did...” Steve continues when you don’t, carefully trying to navigate the topic, “We could’ve been happy. Not-not that I’m sayin’ we aren’t now, of course.”

His nerves calm a bit when a light laugh bubbles from you, grinning a bit as you tighten your hold on him - he returns it quickly.

It’s a short moment of joy, because Steve’s brow furrows as his mind keeps running, “But maybe it could’ve been sooner. We could’ve been together.”

Your cheeks flush at this idea he proposes; that maybe he would’ve wanted to be with you earlier if you had just said something. But you’re still not so sure.

“Steve,” You sigh as you pull away from him, sitting up so you can meet his gaze, “You don’t know that. Maybe it had to happen this way.”

He doesn’t like that. Steve wants to believe that out there somewhere, there’s a chance he could’ve been there for you sooner. That there’s a chance you two would’ve been able to avoid all the heartache, the uncertainty, and the anger that you were left with instead.

“Besides,” You shift to cross your legs, further tangling them in the sheets as you ponder, “Do you really think you would’ve left Nancy for me?”

And then Steve props himself up to mirror you, watching how your eyes catch the glow from the streetlight just beyond your window. He’s not sure what his answer would have been, if he really thinks about it.

“You still could’ve said something. I mean, I don’t know what I would’ve done but, I wouldn’t have just…gotten rid of you.”

Steve adjusts to move closer, desperately trying to think of anything he could say to make the situation better. Although he’s not sure he’d ever be able to, not after what he did. Unknowingly, as you’ve pointed out countless times, it doesn’t make his heart ache any less.

“You loved her,” You mutter, voice soft; your gaze cast down towards your hands, “And I didn’t think you’d ever see me differently. If all I was going to be was your friend, then that was better than never having you at all. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was something.”

It’s Steve’s turn not to say anything, because you’re not wrong. It’s true that he didn’t start developing feelings for you until after Nancy had left, and that you were only a friend in his eyes before then. And even though he knows that’s the truth, it still hurts to hear it come from you. It hurts to hear that you never believed you had an opportunity.

“I made the choice not to tell you, Steve,” You finally turn to face him and his soft brown eyes are patiently awaiting your final answer, “I didn’t want it to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He pauses after scoffing slightly, “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose. And we know now that she didn’t love you, but I-” The sentence stops before you can end it, as if it was pulled right from your mouth, like every other time you’ve tried to.

But something’s different now. Your heart isn’t pounding, cheeks aren’t scarlet with embarrassment; part of you wonders if it’s because you think he already knows.

And with another breath, another sigh, you finally finish it.

“But I do.”

You chuckle as you become overwhelmed with your own emotions. You can’t help the smile that begins to creep up over your lips, realizing you’re finally comfortable enough to tell him how you feel.

“I’m so in love with you. And I’d never want to do anything to hurt you. Ever. I always thought that if I told you, it’d do more harm than good so… I chose not to do anything about it. You were happy and god... the last thing I have ever wanted to do was take that away from you. So I figured I would just let it tear me apart until I didn’t feel it anymore.”

You feel so much lighter - every card you’ve ever kept from him is now on the table. There’s nothing hidden anymore.

“You don’t, um-“ You mutter, hands placed gingerly into your lap. Your head shakes - almost in disbelief - you can’t believe what you just admitted to him, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Right away, Steve opens his mouth to respond, but you stop him before he can utter a single word. He’s not even sure what he was going to say, if he’s honest with himself. But you deserve to hear something after that admission, he thinks - it’s the very least he could do.

You know how Nancy’s lie affected him; he’s not required to admit anything that he’s not ready to, “No, it’s fine, Steve. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

How very odd for Steve, to be the one receiving this confession, the admittance of your feelings, your love and knowing that you expect nothing in return. He’s used to being on the other side of it truthfully, pouring out his heart and being left on a line - Nancy's hesitation louder than any words.

Steve doesn’t want to - he knows for sure that you wouldn’t want him to - but he feels guilty. But this love is so different from Nancy’s and he has to learn it all again, until it’s comfortable against the thrum in his heart. You’ve had plenty of time to learn to love him and he? Well, he’s on his way.

— taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want to be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #st fic #steve harrington imagine #st imagine #my writing #almost paradise

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Jeon Wonwoo

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Wonwoo isn’t huge on affection and aegyo, so when he does approach you with affection, it’s always special. He’ll make sure to make you feel as loved as possible as he knows there are times when you want a little more from him.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you met through a couple of the members at an event and naturally got talking. Wonwoo was incredibly shy, and so were you, which ended up being the perfect catalyst to get the two of you talking with each other throughout the whole event, much to the joy of the others who were watching you.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Love at first sight wasn’t something that Wonwoo believed in, but he wasn’t far off it with you. As the two of you got to know each other more after the event over weeks, Wonwoo knew that he was falling for you. After a couple of months just enjoying each other’s company, Wonwoo ended up confessing to you whilst you were out and exploring one afternoon in the middle of nowhere, mainly to stop you thinking you were lost.

D ⇴ DATES

The two of you would often spend your days indoors with each other, Wonwoo wasn’t someone who was huge on going out and exploring things. He loved using your dates as a time to relax with each other, he’d often set up his games console so that the two of you could play together. Other times, your dates would just be spent laid together with a book in hand, and maybe takeout beside you, peaceful, but still knowing that each other was there which was just what the both of you wanted.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

The concept of love wasn’t something that Wonwoo necessarily believed in, so he never worried about dating. However, when he met you, he began to understand a little more about love and why people always used to tell him you’d know when you found the one. He was still skeptical for quite some time, but with the more time that he spent with you, the more he allowed himself to open up to the idea of falling in love and suddenly having one person take up such a huge part of your life.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Wonwoo has one of the softest hearts in the world, and fighting will be an absolute nightmare for him. When the two of you argue, he’ll get very shy and quiet, he won’t ever really know quite what to say. He’ll usually listen to everything that you have to say and wait until you’re done to take the chance to defend himself. Once you’ve both said how you feel, Wonwoo will usually be the one to try and put things right and continue the discussion until you can both find a point that you agree on to move past what you initially disagreed on.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Being able to introduce you to his family was a huge deal for Wonwoo. They often worried that he wouldn’t want to find himself a partner because he didn’t trust in love , so to be able to show you off and let them see how happy he was around you meant a lot both to him, and to them as well.

H ⇴ HOME

The two of you were very lucky that Mingyu was so understanding of you both which meant the dorm was often your home. But Wonwoo also loved to spend time at your place too. He often worried that the boys would be a bit of a burden for you, even if you always tried to assure him that they weren’t.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

When Wonwoo beat you at your favourite game, he suddenly said those three special words to stop you getting mad at him. He didn’t even think before he spoke, but he trusted in his heart and that it had made the decision to speak up. You were surprised to begin with, but when he said it again, you finally realised that he’d meant to say it all along.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There weren’t many times when Wonwoo would get jealous, he wasn’t someone to cause a scene if there was a person around who wanted to speak to you. But, there was very much a line as far as Wonwoo was concerned, and if someone overstepped it, he’d certainly be a little more protective. He was shy to a point, but when it came to protecting you and making sure that you were safe, a wave of confidence would often wash over him to remind him that he was your boyfriend and that he had to be there for you.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having a family was something that Wonwoo had never really considered before he met you. Without love, he knew there was a small chance of having a family, but just like how he began to believe in love, he began to believe in kids and a family of his own too. He’d often find himself drifting into daydreams about what your future together could look like, but he’d never let himself runaway too far just yet.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

The two of you could often be heard by the other members giggling away to yourselves. Neither of you were loud, but you shared a very similar sense of humour which would often leave the others clueless as to what you both found so funny. Wonwoo’s laugh would always put a smile on your face, neither of you had to be doing anything, but as soon as you’d hear just the smallest sound of a giggle, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself Ron laughing too. Laughter was the thing that brought Wonwoo out of his shell more than anything when he met you, and really was the sign that made you realise that he was comfortable around you.

M ⇴ MISSING

No one would ever know when Wonwoo was missing you, he’d very much keep it to himself. Mingyu would usually be the only one who would be able to tell when something was wrong, but even then, Wonwoo would be very reluctant to tell him. Usually, Mingyu would end up getting in contact with you to tell you what was going on and how he was closing off, and ask if you’d try and give Wonwoo a call or a text. As soon as he saw your name pop up, he’d leave the room, which was also the definitive sign to the others that he was missing you, even if he’d always say no whenever any of them asked.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Wonwoo tended to just call you ‘jagi,’ as he much preferred traditional nicknames for you. It was something that would always roll off the tongue for him, he wouldn’t even need to think, whenever he addressed you, it would come.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your voice, it was very comforting for Wonwoo when he could hear you beside him or listen closely to whatever it was that you had to say to him.

P ⇴ PDA

Affection in public wasn’t something that Wonwoo was huge on. He was smart at reading situations however, and if he felt like he needed to hold your waist or pull you a little bit closer, he’d do it without second thought to make sure that you were safe with him. Other than that, he’d often hold your hand in public too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Wonwoo was quite a fan of discussions with you and talking about random things about the world. He’d often ask you what you thought of a random topic to spark a discussion between you both and find out more about you and your views, especially at the start of your relationship.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Your game dates at home became such a frequent occurrence that the two of you turned it into a bit of competition. Whoever lost the most at the end of the month would end up buying something for the other person that they wanted. The two of you loved that they added a bit of competition to your evenings, and especially enjoyed when you won for the month and had to get the other to buy you some thing.

S ⇴ SEX

It took a little while for Wonwoo to feel comfortable with you in a intimate capacity. To begin with, he was shy and worried about not doing a good enough job for you, however over time, as he began to learn more about your body and the things that you enjoyed, he found himself relaxing a lot more. Once he knew how to make you feel good, he became a lot more confident and self assured around you too.

T ⇴ TEXTS

The two of you didn’t tend to text much as Wonwoo much preferred to call you so that he was able to hear the sound of your voice. If you didn’t pick up his call, he’d try again and again until eventually he heard you answer.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Wonwoo never saw himself as boyfriend material until he met you. He never imagined that he’d enjoy falling in love as much as he did with you, but then he never really trusted love as a whole until he met you.

V ⇴ VACATION

Any free time that Wonwoo had would usually end up being spent at the dorm too. He enjoyed being in his own space and bubble, and best of all, he enjoyed being able to stay home with you whilst you still went out to work in the day. The only difference was he’d be there waiting every night.

W ⇴ WHINING

Whining wasn’t something that Wonwoo tended to do, if he didn’t have your eyes on him then he’d patiently wait until he got them again.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Wonwoo much preferred to kiss you then he did to cuddle you. He’d often use his height to be able to reach a part of your body that you never thought he could from the position that he was stood in. Whilst he wasn’t huge on affection, he was a big fan of kisses and how easily they were both to give to you, but also be received from you. He’d often stand before you and drop subtle hints that he wanted a kiss from you.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a first for him for so much, and hopefully the last too.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

You’ll often end up having to push Wonwoo into bed at night. You’ll usually spot him starting to stare and become distant, refusing to stop annoying him until he finally caved and allow you to put him to bed.

---

Masterlist

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #seventeen drabble #seventeen one shot #seventeen fluff #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo reaction #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo one shot #wonwoo fluff #kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen wonwoo

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angstysebfan · 4 years ago

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The Truth Will Set You Free- Part 3

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader, Thor x Reader (other Avenger characters)

AU: Modern

Summary: You dated for two years, and thought he was the one for you. One day you came home and found him with someone else. After running away from you, you return home and found yourself in the arms of Thor. When Thor decides to introduce you to his friends at a dinner, you realize that there’s something familiar about the house you were visiting.

Warnings: implied cheating, language

Steve allowed you and Bucky to go up to his guest room to talk without being interrupted. You walk into the room, and immediately start to pace, as Bucky walks in and closes the door. He watches you with a mix of guilt, sadness, and relief that you are here.

Bucky never thought he would see you again, and that thought killed him. When you left that day, he thought he was going to die from the pain. He shut himself out from everyone, because nothing was going to take the pain of losing you away. You refused to answer any calls or texts, and when he went to your job and heard you were transferred, he knew that he had lost you forever.

Now he stands in a room with you as you pace, and he worries that even though he has an excuse for what you saw, he might be too late, and you have moved on with Thor. Bucky takes a deep breath and tries to find some courage to speak.

“Y/N?” he says softly, which makes you stop pacing and glare at him.

“Tell me, Bucky. Tell me now. Why did you cheat on me?” you ask angrily, trying to hold back tears.

Bucky wants nothing more than to grab you and hold you, but he walks further into the room and sits on the bed. He looks at his hands for a moment before turning his beautiful blue eyes on you. “I didn’t cheat on you,” he says.

You scoff in disbelief, “I know what I saw that day, Bucky!” you scream and start pacing again.

“I know what you saw, but it wasn’t what you thought. I never cheated on you. I would never have cheated on you. I love you!” Bucky says as he stands and stops you from pacing but grabbing your arms.

You violently pull away from him, “Oh please! You and Nat sleeping in our bed, naked?” you say sarcastically. Who did he think he was kidding?

“We weren’t naked,” he said calmly.

You stare at him, blinking a few times. You remember that day. You have that image ingrained into your memory. Was he just messing with you? You open your mouth to respond, but Bucky beats you to it.

“I didn’t have a shirt on, but I was wearing sweats. Nat at that tube top thing on that you wear sometimes. We were both wearing clothes. I mean I can understand how it looked, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you,” Bucky said.

You don’t know how to respond. How can you honestly know if he is telling you the truth or not? So many questions entered your mind at once, you didn’t know which to ask first. You take a deep breath and try to calm down your nerves. The adrenaline seems to have evaporated and you now feel exhausted from todays events.

“Ok, let’s just say, for arguments sake, I believe that you were wearing clothes. Why was she sleeping with you in our bed? Why did you have your shirt off?” you ask looking out the window, not knowing if you could handle looking at him at the moment.

“I-I want to tell you everything, but I am not sure how much I can actually tell you. I know that sounds bad, but there are things that I am not at liberty to tell,” he says.

You glare at him and stand, “Then there is nothing left to discuss. If you cannot be honest with me, then we are done here,” you say as you start walking toward the door.

Bucky grabs your wrist, “No! Please! Don’t leave. There are things I can say. If you are not satisfied after what I have to say then I will see if I can tell you the whole story. I know this sounds crazy and maybe it is, but I really want to explain my side. Please?” Bucky begs.

You sit back on the bed and nod for Bucky to continue. “Ok,” Bucky breathes. “I should have worn a shirt. I was working on my bike outside when Nat showed up. It was really hot out, so I didn’t have my shirt on. Even when we went it, I was just so warm that I kept it off. I should have put one anyway but there it is,” he says shaking his head.

“Nat came over to talk to me about something. That’s the part I can’t really disclose without her permission. But she was really upset. We were in the living room and she was crying and I was trying to console her. After awhile, she fell asleep. I decided to leave her on the couch, and went into our room to nap myself. Next thing I knew, you were barging into the door screaming and Nat was in the bed with me,” Bucky says, looking at you sadly.

“You really expect me to believe that you had no idea Nat joined you in our bed?” you ask.

“Y/N, if you recall, I didn’t sleep well the night before because of nightmares. I passed out and I am dead serious when I say, I had no idea Nat followed me into the room I swear,” he says, hoping to god you believe him.

You stare out the window, taking in everything he said. I mean you could remember him not sleeping the night before, so it would make sense that when he fell asleep that he completely passed out. But Nat going into your bed is so inappropriate! Why won’t he tell you what their discussion was?

“What did you and Nat talk about?” you ask quietly.

Bucky sighs, knowing you were going to ask that question. “If you give me a moment to ask her if it’s ok. I will tell you, but I’m afraid I can’t without her permission,” Bucky says.

You look at him and wonder if you should allow him to bring Nat into your conversation. You don’t understand why he can’t just tell you. Will it even matter? You sigh and rub your brow as your thoughts fly through your head.

“I- I have to go find Thor,” you surprise yourself by saying. Bucky looks down and can’t help the tears that start falling down his cheeks.

“I know you care about him, but--”

“I am falling for him Bucky. Even if what you say is true, and I am the asshole in this story. I’ve moved on. I’m sorry, but you moved on too. You and Nat are dating, so maybe we should just close this chapter and move on,” you say, as tears start to fall down your cheeks as well.

“Nat and I are not dating. I haven’t dated anyone since you. You are it for me. Please, Y/N,” he begs.

It breaks your heart to hear his voice crack at the end of his plea. You sniff and stand.

“I have to think about this. I need to talk to Thor. I-I don’t know what will happen from here,” you say as you grab your things and walk to the door. You stop and turn toward Bucky, who continues to sit on the bed and silently sob.

“I’ll reach out to you, and hopefully you can tell me everything, but I can’t waste anymore time here and let Thor think I don’t care about him,” you say, feeling guilty for leaving Bucky like this.

Bucky stands and walks over to you. “I will tell you everything. I will make sure it’s ok, but I need you to know that I still am irrevocably in love with you. I know you care for Thor, but I want you to think if there is any love left for me, because as far as I am concerned, you are the only one for me,” he says before kissing the top of your head and leaving the room.

You stand there in a shock for a second before coming to your senses and heading back downstairs, your Uber already being called. You don’t bother to say anything to anyone and just head out of the house. In a few minutes, your ride picks you up and you head toward Thor’s apartment. You hope that he will let you apologize.

Your emotions and thoughts are everywhere. You know you still love Bucky, and yes you have deep feelings for Thor. Now you are in a position to make a choice, but you want all the facts first, plus you don’t know if Thor will even take you back.

You sit in your Uber and silently cry as you realize the pickle you are truly in.

Part 2 / Part 4

What do you guys think of Bucky’s excuse? What could Nat be hiding and will it make a difference? Will Thor forgive Y/N and his friends? Who should Y/N choose when it comes down to it? So many questions, so little time! Feedback is appreciated!

Please forgive me if you asked for a tag and I did not add you. I got a lot of people asking, and I think I got everyone, but if you did request, and were not added, please let me know.

Permanent Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940

Story Taglist: @jessyballet @vicmc624 @kaleeelizabeth58 @iheartsebandchris @collette04 @mela-noche @supernaturalwintersoldier @winteralpine @katiaw2 @devotedlycrookeddonut @baeconandpancakes @tdbooth

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x natasha #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #Modern Bucky Barnes

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #33: In Which I Write the Word ‘Quantum‘ 19 Times

Dang, I forgot what happened at the end of the last issue. It was pretty important, too, but I don’t have time to reread. Maybe the establishing shot can help me out?

Oh, that’s right, Rewind happened!

Everyone’s pretty jazzed that Rewind is here, non-exploded, and supposedly alive. Megatron carries this ridiculously small man over to a table, while Skids is busy admonishing Nightbeat for trying to put the pieces of this mystery together.

That’s one of the two first canonically, openly gay Transformers, Megatron. You bet your ass he’s important.

Nightbeat’s dragged Nautica over to look at that poster for Crosscut’s play they saw last issue. Together, they discover something interesting, and it’s not that Nightbeat’s chin has elongated to the point of absurdity. On this future ship, the play was completed and produced a mere few weeks after the initial launch of the Lost Light.

While this is going on, Rewind wakes up and asks Skids what the hell is going on. Skids, likely not wanting to poke at farm-fresh trauma, glosses over the fact that everyone on this ship was violently murdered, and that they found Rewind blacked out inside the hollowed torso of his brother-in-law.

…This is a dark story line.

You see, the joke here is that “Dark Cybertron” sucked major chrome.

Megatron reminds everyone that they’re still in grave danger every moment they stay aboard this ship, but Skids is more concerned with Rewind’s mental health. Which is sweet, but maybe not the thing to prioritize in such a precarious situation.

Rewind takes the fact that Megatron is an Autobot now pretty friggin’ well, as well as the introduction of gender into his species. That is, until Nightbeat, the king of social graces, saunters up to the scene to ask Rewind what the hell happened to the ship. He does get his answers, despite Rewind being horrified to the point of speechlessness.

Over at the hole in the wall, Nautica and Riptide are taking a gander at the quantum drums, which house the quantum foam for the quantum engines so quantum jumps can happen.

As Nautica explains the process by which quantum travel works, she realizes that the answer to what happened to everyone who disappeared was right in front of them this whole time.

Quantum, quantum, quantum- doesn’t even sound like a word anymore, does it?

The data slug Rewind made corroborates this theory, showing a series of events that definitely didn’t happen to the Lost Light we’ve been following throughout this story so far. The data slug contains this Rewind’s version of dead Rewind’s “Little Victories”, the travelogue that was never completed, where the question “are you happy?” revealed just how emotionally unhealthy most of the crew is. I’d like to imagine this Rewind’s film is called “Small Achievements”, or perhaps “Dear Fucking Lord, We’ve Been on this Trip for Three Hours and the Captain Has Been Killed by a Goddamned Soul-Vampire”, or maybe even “Where the FUCK is Our Therapist”.

The DJD came into the equation by way of someone having led them to the Lost Light. We get a flashback panel of the gorefest, in which Tarn appears to have learned how to fly, given the angle he’s coming from.

Because Rewind’s big thing in this series is being the guy who records stuff, the DJD take the opportunity to make some movies of their visit to the space yacht.

James, why do you keep getting Rewind involved with snuff films? I’m starting to get concerned.

Now, the thing about Rewind is that he’s almost always accompanied by his other half. Where is Chromedome, anyway?

He’s dead, that’s where.

Turns out, when you tell the DJD that you won’t do the thing they want you to do, they have a habit of doing nasty things in retaliation. Chromedome got stabbed in the friggin’ visor with his own finger needles, because Vos enjoys ironic deaths, I suppose. There’s some other stuff that’s implied to have happened, but we’ll get to that once we learn a little more about the DJD themselves.

While Rewind recounts the grisly tale of his husband’s demise, Riptide notes that the quantum foam has begun to spread at a remarkable rate. This is a bad thing, because that shit can and will explode, given half the chance, and this wreck is floating right above a potentially-inhabited planet.

Though I could have sworn we established that this planet was a Smartplanet, and therefore very much populated by students and staff. I don’t know. Maybe we conveniently forgot that, so we could make this a learning moment for Megatron.

Jiminy Christmas, Megs, do you even listen to yourself?

Skids, who has had a very long day of finding corpses and learning about quantum theory, snaps at Megatron, telling him that in order to actually be an Autobot, you have to have a little frickin’ compassion for those outside of your peer group.

Which is sort of contradictory to the Aequitas trials, the Killswitch debacle, the POW situation back on Cybertron, and whatever the fuck Prowl’s whole deal is, but maybe Skids is speaking about his own, personal relationship with being an Autobot. Hopefully so, otherwise he needs a class on critical thinking, STAT.

Never mind all of that though, because the problem just got a lot worse- the quantum foam has expanded to a point where any holes in the stuff are too small for the Rod Pod to get through. We’re going to have to get creative if we want to save the day.

Luckily, we’ve got a quantum duplicate of just about the tiniest little dude in the franchise here to do the job. Now we just need another, equally tiny little man, so the quantum drums can be shut off at the same time. Nautica commits more microaggressions, and this gives Getaway inspiration for a witty quip, which in turn gives Skids a brilliant idea.

The gang heads down to Brainstorm’s lab, to look for the mass displacement gun that was used for treating Ultra Magnus’s nanocon infestation back in the 2012 Annual. While they search, Nautica explains just why the hell the Lost Light disappeared in the first place. You see, quantum duplication acts on the Cain Instinct— it’s fine, as long as the duplicates don’t perceive each other. However, the moment contact is made, it says “oh man, guess I’m gonna have to end you” to one of the duplicates. The contact in this case happened when the Coffin Rodimus was brought aboard the ship.

Anything that wasn’t aboard the Lost Light at the point of the takeoff/explosion was never duplicated, and thus wasn’t erased from reality once shit started going to hell. This is why the Rod Pod is still around, and why the remaining cast are— well, the remaining cast.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica and Nightbeat uncover yet another dead body; it’s Brainstorm, and he’s a little underdressed.

…Someone run a paternity test, I think Cyclonus might be the father.

Also, Brainstorm’s a double agent.

Fucked up.

Getaway is furious that a Decepticon has been living on the same ship as him for the last six months, right under his proverbial nose. Even Megatron’s surprised, stating that Brainstorm isn’t usually who the recruiters aim for.

So, no mass displacement gun, and now they’re aware of the fact that there’s a traitor on the ship who’s had access to a LOT of weapon tech. It’s at this point that Megatron decides to stop lying by omission and tells everyone that he can mass-displace, since he used to turn into a handgun.

Smashcut to Megatron and Rewind floating out in space, the former now not much taller than the latter, as they traverse the web of quantum foam to get to the drums. Nautica instructs them from the Rod Pod. If this works, anything produced or connected to the quantum engine will be neutralized, and maybe we’ll even get the other Lost Light back! YAAAAAY!!!

Y’all really let this man go out there to fuckin’ kill himself for the greater good, didn’t you?

Rewind is honestly pretty chill with ceasing to be, seeing as he watched 200/+ people die today, including his long-time spouse.

Jesus. I’d say get him a therapist, but in order to do that, we’re going to have to wipe him off the map anyway.

Rewind asks Megatron if the Chromedome that isn’t his and his duplicate are still together. And I mean…

Luckily, Megatron has the good sense to lie.

With that, they flip the switches, and deactivate the drums.

And that’s a series wrap on Rewind! Congrats to Mr. James Roberts for the esteemed honor of burying the same gay twice!

Later on, everyone is back inside the Rod Pod, as their disappeared shipmates return from being nonexistent. Chromedome pops back in, and Skids is on him like a shark, telling him to go on the roof. Skids doesn’t even try to explain why. Which, fair. How the hell do you explain to someone that their dead husband’s quantum duplicate survived both a terrorist splinter cell attack, and the laws of quantum sci-fi bullshit crashing down on his tiny, tiny body, and that he’s right there on the roof waiting for them?

Welp, there goes the Chromedome/Dominus endgame. Shame, that.

Looks like Chromedome finally hit the threshold for having earned Roberts’ pity, and won’t be directly targeted by the plot for a little while. This isn’t something you see very often, so let’s really soak this in.

…Someone had to have told Rewind what happened to the other Rewind, right? I wonder what that conversation was like.

Back inside the ship, Blaster gets word that the Lost Light has reappeared. As they navigate towards it, Megatron requests that an encrypted call be made to Rodimus, to discuss the Brainstorm problem.

In the interim, Ravage is offered the opportunity to be a part of the crew, so he doesn’t have to keep skulking around in the shadows. We don’t get an answer from him, as our focus shifts over to Nightbeat and Nautica.

Nightbeaaaaaaaaaat, stop stating the themes of the comic verbatim! People are going to start thinking you’re a shonen anime protagonist!

Nightbeat’s somehow managed to keep ahold of the briefcase that they found on the other Lost Light. Unless Brainstorm’s boyfriend is in there, I don’t think this one was the work of Huey Lewis and the News’ hit single from the Back to the Future soundtrack.

Over on the Lost Light, specifically in Swerve’s, Brainstorm’s making his way through the crowd, briefcase held gentle like hamburger as he goes. He makes it to the bar, where Atomizer tells him he can’t have his briefcase in here. Brainstorm has what most would accept to be a healthy response to being told “no.”

It’s what I would do.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #slaughterhouse #issue 33 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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harryspet · 5 years ago

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good girl. bad habits. [1] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, spanking, teacher/student, physical abuse, misogyny, plot now/porn later

A/N: warnings should be explanation enough! this is probably going to have two parts :)

POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which you’re forced to attend a school for Omegas and you meet an Alpha that’s destined to shake up your world.

word count: 4.2k

main masterlist

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe

Wanda grabbed your hand, examining your nails with wide eyes, “Where did you get nail polish?” She whisper-shouted, trying not to draw attention to the two of you in the large auditorium. There were rows of girls surrounding you, all of them lacking any sort of individuality because of the stupid dress code.

“I traded for it,” Wanda raised an eyebrow and you sighed, “I’m doing her homework for Mr. Rogers for the next week. Worth it, right? Red looks good on me.”

Wanda gave you a disapproving look but you were quite used to it, “Trading?” Wanda scoffed, “You make it sound like we’re in prison.”

You only frowned, folding your hands in front of you, “That’s the only word I would use to describe it.”

Before Wanda could argue, the deafening sound of a microphone blasted through the auditorium, signalling that the assembly was about to begin. Mistress Romanoff stepped onto the platform, wearing her usual striking red hair and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. All the male teachers lusted for the Beta woman but you only felt jealousy. You wished your uniform skirt hugged your curves rather than dropping to your knees.

She carried the mic with her, clipboard in hand that held the contents of the meeting. It was the crack of dawn and you were running on little sleep but that wasn’t anything special for you. If you wanted anytime to yourself, you had to utilize the time after midnight which meant you often forgoed sleep.

“Good morning, ladies,” She addressed you all, her face lacking a smile or compassion, “You’ve already completed two months of the semester. A majority of you are passing your classes with flying colors. I hope you finish the semester just as strong as you started it ….”

That two months felt like a year to you. You’d spent the summer in a detention center and you were apparently “lucky” to be sitting here instead of there. In reality, you preferred the girls at the detention center over this school because they at least had spines. The girls here were mindless followers just hoping to please whatever men they had in their lives.

“As you all know, at the Stark School, our most popular event is the Halloween Ball. You know, a select few girls are chosen to attend based on merit as a reward for a job well done. This year, I have spectacular news concerning the event that I think all of you ladies will be glad to hear,” There were impatient, excited whispers that roamed over the crowd. You witnessed Wanda whispering something into the ear of the girl beside her. You only yawned, waiting for the assembly to be over, “This year, a select few males from the Asgard School for Alphas will be in attendance-”

Mistress Romanoff was interrupted by an overwhelming reaction from the crowd which consisted of loud squealing and gasps, “Ladies, please calm down. I know you’re all excited but don’t be too rash. There are still several weeks until the Ball. I would advise you all to be on your best behavior and to get your grades up if you want to be considered.”

You wanted to vomit in your mouth. The male teachers were worse enough. Being around young, Alpha males sounded like a complete nightmare. Wanda was freaking out beside you but you had tuned her out. With your current grades and disciplinary record, you’d end up at that Ball when hell freezes over.

You should’ve known that the Halloween Ball would consume everyone’s conversation for the rest of the day. It seemed you were the only one in the entire world that didn’t care. Except for Wanda, you didn’t really have any friends here and today was only adding to that isolation you always felt.

“Let’s go off script today and talk about our goals and aspirations. I often get a lot of questions from you all about advice on the plans for your future. This isn’t exactly Omega history but I figured we could use history in order to help guide us …”

As you sat in class, your eyes weren’t on the board in front of the class but out the window. The school consisted of long corridors, tall ceilings and tall windows. The ancient building sat in the middle of a forest in an area that you did not know. After the judge decided where you’d spend your senior year, they drugged you and brought you here.

You were only half listening to Mr. Rogers as he gave today’s lecture. The paint on your nails was far more interesting. Besides that, you hated how people only raised their hands to agree with him. Looking across the room at Wanda, you could see how in love she was with him.

“Throughout history, we see Omegas taking on a softer and more gentle role in our society, especially in females. Omega females are natural nurturers as well as natural followers. Can someone tell me why this is unlikely to change?”

You rolled your eyes as someone raised their hand, “It’s because it’s in our nature. It’s how the Goddess created us.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Rogers agreed with a smile, “There are leaders in our world and then there are followers. Both positions are equally as important. You can’t have one without the other,” You’d heard this type of lecture a million times and most of the girls at your school gobble it up, “There are a lot of options for omega females. After you meet your mates, the possibilities essentially become endless. There are many nurturing and low stress jobs. I know many Omegas who are secretaries, florists, and even preschool teachers. Most become homemakers and motherhood is the absolute most important job an Omega can have.”

You couldn’t hold in your scoff but, as soon as it left your lips, everyone’s head turned towards you, “What?” You asked no one in particular but to show that you didn’t want to be stared at.

“Miss Y/L/N, is there something you would like to add to the discussion?” Mr. Rogers asked and, although he was beginning to make your heart race, you only crossed your arms.

“No, thank you,” You spoke simply.

“I apologize if I’m boring you but this is a pretty important topic. Why don’t you tell the class your aspirations for the future,” You expected for him to move on but the Alpha seemed to focus in on you. You hated the feeling that crawled under your skin when you looked into his eyes. It was a force, a wall between the two of you to remind you that you were not equal.

“I’d like to be mate free, far away from this school, and on a beach somewhere rolling in cash,” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, eyes widened, and the tension grew thick, “Consider it a five year plan.”

“And you expect to make money how?” Mr. Rogers began to pace in front of his desk, an annoyance in his glare towards you.

“I don’t know but hopefully I’ll make more than a teacher,” You grinned.

Steve stiffened and you saw Wanda look over her shoulder to you. “Stop it,” She mouthed to you.

“I’ll just move somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t treat Omegas like second class citizens.”

The class erupted in gasps and, for a moment, you felt quite powerful, “Stand up, right now,” Mr. Rogers snarled. You did as he said, knowing you wouldn’t be able to disobey a command.

You reached down to grab your backpack, “I know, I know … to the Head Mistress’s office,” You rolled your eyes.

“No, leave your things,” That made you pause and you looked up to see a smirk on his face, “Come up to the front of the class, Miss Y/L/N.”

You let your bag drop to your side with a thud. Everyone around you was still whispering and staring. You felt that power drifting away as you made your way down the aisle and towards the front of the classroom. Skirt too high on your thighs, nail polish on your hands, and an attitude on your face that you were struggling to maintain.

You stopped a few feet in front of your teacher before he said, “Hands on the desk,” He ordered you. You huffed out a sigh, every bone in your body telling you to obey. You walked past him, putting your hands down on his desk which left you slightly bent over with your backside exposed to the room of forty girls. “This, young ladies, is important for all of you to see. There will always be some who resist their true nature and who cause disruption.”

You heard the sound of him removing his belt from the waistband of his pants and your body cringed.

You’d heard that things like this happened often here. You heard the head mistress had a secret closet of tools she used on disobedient omegas. You’d never heard of a Professor disciplining a student in front of an entire class.

You wanted to scream and shout but decided that remaining stoic would save you the most embarrassment. Even as he lifted your skirt, you didn’t say a word, only shut your eyes tightly, “Whatever career path you choose, your mate will have to approve. This is not because you are second class citizens but because your mate will know what’s best for you. Ranks are ingrained within us and, no matter how much we fight it, we still end up in positions like you. If we only stayed in our lanes, others wouldn’t have to enforce their rank.”

The first slap of the belt burned badly. You couldn’t help but cry out as your knees buckled together and you tightly gripped the wood of the desk.

He kept going, forcing the class to count along as he completely bruised your bottom. He stopped at fifteen but, by that time, tears were already streaming and you were silently weeping.

The next few weeks passed in a blur with your usual routine of going through your classes like a zombie and listening to Wanda’s ramblings. Like a lot of girls, Wanda already had an Alpha with his eyes set on her. Bucky Barnes, an older man and well respected Alpha had already staked his claim. Wanda’s current mission was to have as much fun and attention that she could before being forced to settle down.

You started to notice how Wanda’s usual group of friends was dwindling as she continued to sit with you. Although she often disagreed with your mentality, she still stayed which was more than anyone had ever done for you.

“Are you really going to run? Escape?” She asked in a whisper as she discussed the forbidden topic.

“Why would I stay? No Alpha will want me. Not even a Beta would,” You only shrugged, stirring your spoon around your bowl of soup.

“That’s not true,” Wanda insisted, “You just …. you just have to adjust a little more. I think you could be happy eventually if you just played the part for a little while. An Alpha could offer you security.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like the cost. I think I’d rather scrub toilets for the rest of my life.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at your words, “I don’t think you would, Y/N. There’s got to be a part of you, deep down, that wants the stability.”

You didn’t answer the question and you didn’t allow the thought to stay on your mind, “Don’t worry about me, just enjoy your dance. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find another Alpha and you can watch them fight over you.”

Wanda smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes, “That does sound wonderful, doesn’t it?” Not long into your conversation, you felt a tapping on your shoulder and a woman telling you that you’re needed in the head mistress’s office, “What did you do now?”

“Nothing,” You said immediately, grabbing your things, “You can have my pudding cup. I’ll see you after last period.” Wanda only nodded, a look of worry on her face as you were escorted away.

The woman, who you assumed was some type of secretary, advised you to fix your appearance. The Stark School was like an old castle with vast hallways and tall ceilings of stained glass. Mr. Rogers told the class one time that it had been used as a fort in a war hundreds of years ago. People thought it was an interesting fact but the antiqueness of everything left you feeling creeped out most of the time.

You arrived at her office after climbing the winding stairs of the tallest tower. Mrs. Potts was waiting by the window when you entered. You kept your hands folded, hiding the nail polish on your fingers as you waited for her to address you. She stared out of the window, out to wear P.E. classes were being held, and your eyes wandered to the large wardrobe in the corner.

You gulped as you realized that was probably where she kept her weapons of discipline, “How are your studies going, dear?” You turned your head to find her staring intently at you, “Come, sit down.”

You moved forward, obeying the Alpha Females commands, and taking a seat in front of her desk, “Well, I’m not failing anything,” You spoke tersely.

“I heard,” She nodded, taking a seat behind her desk. She straightened the jacket of her black suit as she folded her hands over the desk, “That’s a big improvement, Y/N. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “To talk about my improvement?” You put the word “improvement” in quotes.

“Exactly, when you first arrived you started with at least one infraction a day. Now you’re down to one a week. I can tell you’re learning and that you’re adjusting well.”

“Are you letting me out of here earlier then?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

Pepper only chuckled, “Here’s what I’m offering you - a chance to go to the Halloween Ball.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked.

“When the school year is over, you won’t have many options. If you get back on suppressants, you’ll be caught and end up back in the Council’s bad graces. It’s my job to help you and I don’t want to see that happen,” You could tell that she was being sincere but there was still the ulterior motive of simply getting you out of her hair, “You’ll go to the ball, maybe you’ll meet someone willing to take you in and give you something better than what you can give yourself.”

You frowned, “I’m assuming you’re not giving me a choice.”

Pepper sighed, “You have over fifty infractions, Y/N. Any other student would have been kicked out by now. Just take this chance.”

It was quite amusing to you watching the group of boys and girls meet each other. They both seemed to be an inexperienced group of teenagers awkwardly trying to figure things out. The girls stood on one side and the boys stood on the other for the first ten minutes of the dance before a brave boy walked over to ask a girl to dance. Now, the dance was in full swing and you were sitting by the snack table, easing your anxiety with cookies.

Wanda loaned you a long white dress and allowed you to cut it into something off-shouldered with a slit down the side to expose your thigh. You watched Wanda who was dancing happily in a champagne pink, ruffled dress.

The Alphas that passed you only stared, probably wondering why you weren’t bashfully batting your eyelids at them. Another thing that added to your anxiety was the energy they gave off. You could handle class with Mr. Rogers but being in the ballroom was putting you on edge.

You sat through a few more loud pop songs before finally standing up and heading for the exit. As you made it to the door, you heard an out of breath Wanda calling for you. You turned to see her pulling a boy along with her, a look of lust in his eyes as he gazed at her. He wasn’t what made your breath hitch in your throat, it was who was behind him.

“Y/N, this is Brad,” She gestured to the boy whose hand was interlaced with hers, “And this is his friend Peter.”

Peter.

Something made you do a double take. You didn’t recognize him but you felt your world shift at the sight of him. You felt your heart rate increase as she felt something foreign … attraction. A kind face that didn’t match those brown eyes that screamed danger. In those few seconds where your eyes lingered on his, you questioned every feeling you’d ever had.

“I’m going … on a walk,” You told Wanda, not addressing them.

“Take us with you to get some fresh air,” She winked at you, knowing what you were hinting at.

Your shoulders slumped but you nodded, “You’re lucky there’s enough in my stash.”

You turned around and pushed open the gymnasium door and led the three of them into the hallway. The four of you did your best to avoid any chaperones, dipping into a custodian's closet when you heard the tapping of heels coming your way. Like you had planned it, you switched on the light and ran your eyes over the many shelves.

“How did you even get it?” Wanda whispered.

They did bed checks often and a lot of the administrators were fond of combing through your dorm room thoroughly.

“I’m cool with the janitor,” You answered simply, shrugging. As you found the empty container for disinfecting wipes, you reached in to find what you were looking for. You felt the young Alphas eyes burning into you as you presented it to the group.

A flask.

You tilted the silver container back, swallowing quickly in an attempt to not taste the vile liquid. Not meeting his eyes, you held the flask out to the side for him to take. The four of you were making your way to the lake. Wanda and Brad, stuck in their own world, had wandered ahead which left the two of you to awkwardly walk beside each other down the dirt path.

When he didn’t take it, you glanced at him, “I don’t think that’s going to get me drunk,” He said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck and the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone. You couldn’t help that your eyes lingered on the skin of his chest and he seemed to notice. He flashed you a curious look but you turned your head again.

“Suit yourself,” You took another sip, scowling as you pulled it from your lips.

The four of you arrived at the lake and it seemed Brad and Wanda couldn’t keep their hands off of each other any longer. After taking a big swig out of the flask, she told you that she and Brad were going to go “check out” the storage cabin where the school kept lake gear. She giggled as he pulled her away, leaving the two of you along on a picnic bench, staring out onto the eerie, dark water.

“What’s your last name?” He asked and a part of you was frustrated that he was trying to make small talk with you.

“You wouldn’t know my family,” You said simply.

“Try me,” He challenged you like the cocky Alpha you assumed he was.

“They’re dead, it’s not like it matters.”

“How?” He continued, “How did they die?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Do you always ask girls about traumatic topics when you first meet them?”

“You don’t seem like most girls I’ve met.”

“And I guess that’s an excuse?” You scoffed but his expression didn’t change. He seriously wanted to know, “They were rogues and they died like everyone else who defies the Council. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Was his curt response.

An Alpha apologizing? You never thought you’d see the day.

“What’s your last name?”

“Parker,” Your eyes widened as the name left his lips.

“You’re … you’re Tony Stark’s nephew?” He only nodded, “And you’re saying sorry when your uncle is on the council. When he’s the reason they’re dead. That’s rich.”

“I’m not my uncle,” He stated more firmly than you expected. It took you back for a moment and the two of you stared intensely for a long moment.

“I don’t care,” His eyebrows tightened and his lips pressed into a rectangle at your reaction, “Even if you don’t want to end up like him, you probably will. It’s a part of your nature,” You spoke, mocking the words you heard all day long in class.

“It’s not a part of my nature to kill those who disagree with me,” Your eyebrows furrowed at his words.

“How else will you assert your dominance, oh wise Alpha?”

He breathed deeply, sensing how you were toying with him, “A good alpha doesn’t need to kill or rely only on their strength. Alphas who lack the respect of their followers do.”

It deeply confused you that someone like him could think this way. You were quiet for a moment as you thought it over, “Are you saying Tony Stark lacks the respect of his people?”

“They only fear him,” Peter’s eyes seemed to darken even in the moonlight shining down on the two of you.

Pete watched as it clicked within your mind, “And you don’t want to be feared?” As he leaned in closer, you surprised yourself by not pulling away. You felt that same magnetism pulling you towards him, promising you pleasure, but frightening you at the same time.

His fingers brushed against yours and a shiver went down your spine, causing your lips to part and your eyes to widen, “Control feels much better when it’s instinct. When it’s wanted and desired. That’s real control,” His voice was warm, and surprisingly calm. It made you forget for a moment and drop the walls. Your eyes roamed over his every feature, ever line of his jaw, and ever curl of his hair.

His eyes wandered down to your lips and you suddenly snapped out of the spell. You stood up from the bench with a start, realizing how deeply you were just staring at him, “I don’t believe in those bullshit rankings,” You stated firmly and he stood up with you, trying to close the distance between the two of you, “They’re all fucking lies.”

You were about to turn away when he grabbed your upper arm. You gritted your teeth as he pulled you into him, “Believe this then. I want you, Y/N.”

“Let go of me,” Your voice was lower than you expected as you stared into those eyes. Why was your voice so weak? “You don't even know me.”

“It’s instinct,” He said, holding your firmly although his grip was tight, “And I can tell that you feel it too. Deep down, you’re searching for someone to take care of you. You want reassurance like they all do.” You tried to look away from him but you just couldn’t. “Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” You shook your head, tears starting to sting your eyes. “A girl like you needs someone gentle. Someone to ease you into submission rather than force it.”

You felt like you were melting into him and as his head dipped down to place his lips on yours, that voice in the back of your head was screaming to kiss him back. Your wrist pinned together between you, Peter stole your first kiss and it was a wonderfully terrifying feeling.

You felt warmth in your core and you tightened your legs together as he began to kiss along your jaw and then your neck, surely leaving marks on your skin, “Peter …”

“Tell me to stop,” He said against your skin.

The words were on your tongue but it was like your body had switched to autopilot. It wanted his touch and that’s all your body wanted to focus on. When he finally did pull his lips from your skin, your body was still craving that foreign touch.

Before his hands could roam over the rest of your body, a bright light blinded the two of you and footsteps approached. Peter let go of your skin but you still felt his touch, as Mr. Rogers appeared. You only crossed your arms, looking down at your feet as the two of you were caught.

“What are you doing out here, son?” Of course, Steve didn’t address you.

“We wanted to look at the Full Moon,” Peter lied, “My apologies, sir.”

“Where’s Maximoff?”

“We haven’t seen her,” Peter shrugged casually.

“I’d stay away from this one if I were you. There’s plenty of good girls worthy of your time,” Steve gestured to you but him disliking you was the least of your worries at the moment, “You can head back to the dance, Mr. Parker. I’ll be escorting this one back to the dorms.”

Peter stepped forward, walking past Steve, but he looked back to mouth something to you.

Clear as day, you could read his lips say, “You’re mine.”

No matter the cost, you decided then that you’d run. Run from this place and from the feeling Peter gave you that made you so weak in the knees.

part two

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deannaroxannewrites · 4 years ago

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Tropetember Day 4 - Rockstar / Actor / Model / Famous AU

The future is unwritten

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Drinking/alcohol

AN: Day 4 of @tropetember. This has potential to be the start of a short series. Would anyone be interested in this playing out? (first date, meeting Jack, properly meeting the team, media finding out etc etc)

Life as an famous author can be lonely, but maybe a handsome stranger can turn your day around.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

Staring into a glass of whisky never solved any problems, but at least it passed the time.

When you’d started writing your first book, you never could have imagined how exhausting a promotional tour was. You very rarely had time to yourself, spent weeks at a time on the road and constantly had to be on your best behaviour. Not that you were exactly badly behaved but anything more than a glass of wine or two with dinner had your publicist cutting you off to “protect you image”. No matter how many times you assured her that your audience of young adults would likely not be surprised by an author having a couple of drinks at the bar, until the end of the tour, you were cut off.

You really missed having total control of your life.

And so, like a teenager sneaking out past curfew, you had waited for Denise to go back to her room to bed, before slipping out of your hotel room and down to the bar.

When booking your hotel, the publishing company had been all set to book you into opulent rooms around the country but you had convinced them that that would make you easier to find. Instead, you were booked in a nice hotel with good facilities, the sort of place businessmen would be happy to stay and meet clients for a drink downstairs. Lots of dark wood and leather chairs and large glass windows.

You’d stationed yourself on a comfy stool at the end of the bar, taking advantage of the window to watch the rainy New York street outside. It also allowed you a convenient view of the lobby. The good people watching spot allowed you to notice when a group of well dressed, if slightly rumpled, people wandering in, exhaustion pulling at their features.

One of the men, a tall handsome individual with dark hair and a stern expression, broke off from the group after a quick discussion and headed in your direction. He quickly gained the attention of the server and ran off his order - lots of alcohol and one coffee - before propping himself against the bar next to you.

You took a moment to study him. Up close, you could see the laughter lines in his face and warmth of his chocolate brown eyes. You also clocked the gun on his hip under the very nice suit jacket he was wearing.

“I can hear you thinking” he says, the smooth deep baritone jolting you from you staring. Rather than being ashamed you just smile. Who are you to turn down a chance to chat with a good-looking stranger? It's nice to act like a normal person for a change.

“That coffee you ordered is definitely for you then” you state. That surprises a laugh out of him. It’s a rich, warm sound and you savour it. He doesn’t look like a man who laughs often.

“You would be correct,” he agrees. ”Do you often spend your time staring at strangers?”

You smile at that and concede “only the handsome ones”.

The tips of his ears redden slightly but he manages to control the rest of his micro expressions. In the meantime, you sip at your whiskey.

Desperate to continue the conversation, you observe "I'd normally ask if you were on a trip for business or leisure but I think we've covered that."

He hums in agreement, taking your invitation to continue. "How about you?"

You wave the whisky glass at him. “The trip is for business, this however, is for pleasure.” You give him a cheeky grin and then sigh. “I’m just looking forward to being back home in DC next week. I hate being this close and yet not able to sleep in my own bed.”

“I’m the same. DC seems to be one of those places everyone complains about living there when they’re there, but loves when they can’t make it.”

Working under your assumption that he’s FBI, you presume he must work out of Quantico. What a stroke of luck chatting to someone who won’t be far away when you return home? You take a moment to assess your options and take a leap of faith. He doesn’t seem to know who you are and you’re enjoying the attention.

“Anyone waiting for you back home?”

He smirks at your extremely unsubtle comment, before allowing “just my little boy. He stays with his Aunt when I’m gone.”

Sadly, the bartender has managed to finally round up all of the drinks for his team. He pays quickly and then gives you a contemplative look. He seems to decide you're not a creep or serial killer or whatever else, and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his card.

“If you’re around tomorrow and want to get a drink? Work permitting obviously.”

You feel a smile break out on your face.

“I’d love to.” You pocket the card before reaching out your hand. ”I’m Y/N.”

“Aaron” he responds with a quick grin, taking your hand and shaking firmly. “Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good evening. Don’t work too hard.”

And with that, he collects his drinks tray which is fully loaded and heads back to his group. You catch a couple of surprised expressions out of the corner of your eye and, as you stand up to head back up to your room, you notice the older gentleman pat him on the back before they all settle into looking through files.

Huh, apparently picking up strangers in bars was a rare occurrence for him. You wouldn't have guessed. He seemed pretty in practice from how he was talking to you.

Now, best sneak back upstairs and get some sleep.

------

It was nearly 3pm, meaning you only had an hour left of book signing. Sadly there had been some sort of arrest made across the street though which had put a bit of a damper on the event, reducing the amount of foot traffic into the store.

From your vantage point, you could see FBI and police personnel wandering around and looking busy and had been reduced to people watching to pass the time. You were startled out of your daze by a familiar voice.

"When our tech analyst demanded I stop by to get a copy of your book autographed for her, I had assumed the name was a coincidence."

You cringe. Oops. Busted.

"Hi Aaron," you say meekly. It's only as you glance up that you see he's smiling that you relax a little.

"Aren't you supposed to be outside tidying up your mess?" You question, taking the book off him with one hand and waving your other at the street.

"I've done most of my work for now. As we're consulting, we are not responsible for tidying up."

You hum in acknowledgement before asking who the book is for and signing the copy with a personalised message. You've never been one to just sign and hand back. These people are supporting you, it's the least you can do.

"No drink tonight then? I assume you'll be back to DC?"

"Sadly."

You both glance at each other, trying to gauge what to do next. You're grateful he takes the plunge.

"We could do something when you're back in DC? I can be pretty busy with work and Jack, my son, is my priority but I can try to fit something in? If you want?"

It's an interesting thing, seeing a calm and confident man like Aaron turn into a rambling mess. You take it as a compliment.

"Of course. I understand having a busy life. One of the benefits to being a writer is setting my own schedule.” You glance around the shop. “When I'm not doing promotion obviously. We can make something work."

You're rewarded with a grin and it makes your heart flutter.

"The main question is, are you sure you want to? I'm not, like, mega famous, but it can be a lot sometimes."

He doesn't even stop to think before he answers.

"I'd regret it if I didn't. And if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We take a step back. At the very least, I'd like to get know you"

That sentence settles your nerves. You're sure you look like a maniac with the smile that's currently plastered across your phase.

"Can I call you tonight? Since I can't make drinks?"

You nod, but notice there are a few people waiting to meet you. Sigh, best wrap it up for now.

"Of course, I'll text you and we can sort out a time."

He nods, also noticing your fans and, before he can lose his nerve, leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You say your goodbyes and he heads back outside with book in hand, apparently impervious to the whispers.

And if your publicist comments that you don't stop smiling for the rest of the day? That's not really any of her business, is it?

#tropetember #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #meet cute #famous AU #Author AU #criminal minds

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petite-ely · 4 years ago

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Afraid // JJ Maybank

five - but what if?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: bad language (don’t swear kids), mention of drowning, mention of death, nightmares, mention of guns, mention of fight, did I miss something.

Description: after his reckless actions at the party, JJ is unable to sleep but he isn’t the only one still awake.

A/n : I don’t want to make this longer than it already is, I think I’ve talked enough lol. If for some reason you want to know why I’ve been gone for so long I’ve written a post regarding it. Sorry again for not posting in so long. If you want to chat, feel free to reach out. I’m friendly. :) please kindly tell me if I’ve made some mistakes, I’ve reread this like a hundred times but its possible some mistakes slipped.

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

Gif by @cobrazkai

Song recommendation

JJ Maybank was 14 years old when he first realized that he had feelings for one of his best friends. The thing is he didn’t know what the hell those feelings were. He had always thought that y/n was really pretty and he considered her to be one of her closest friends and that was it. Friends- that’s what they were.

But after years of friendship and wild adventures and basically hanging out 24/7, something felt different. And boy, did that scare him.

JJ was not the kind of person to be really in touch with his emotions. Being abandoned by his own mother and living with an abusive alcoholic father didn’t really help either. If anything, his past traumas only made him more disconnected from his emotions and feelings.

He might’ve been hot headed and impulsive but that didn’t stop him from feeling things, often even too deeply. The issue was naming the emotions he was feeling. He didn’t know what he was feeling like half of the time. So when it came to y/n, his feelings for her were so intense and unknown. He had never felt this way for anyone before. He was so confused.

Being around her felt weirdly homely and yet, he never really had a real home to come to. For him, it was only a house. It was a building with things he wasn’t really attached to and a man he couldn’t really call a father, despite DNA saying otherwise. Being with her felt warm and golden and it was like a drug he couldn’t say no to. He was constantly looking for ways to feel this specific way. It was euphoric. But he only felt this way when he was around her. And it felt like home.

She was the home he wanted to come to every freaking night. And he wanted to dance with her and have night long discussion and caress her cheeks tenderly. He wanted to kiss her more than anything else, his lips on hers staying that way until one of them needed to take a breath - oh what heavenly feeling that must be. He wanted to proclaim his feelings to the entire island - the entire world even.

Only he couldn’t. There was this rule, and he couldn’t break it. Usually, he wasn’t the kind of person to let rules determine what he should and shouldn’t do. But it was the pogue rules, he couldn’t break them. He couldn’t do that to his friends, regardless of his own feelings.

Love. That’s what his feelings were. It took him some time to realize it, but yeah, it was love. He was certain of it (which was rare for JJ). A first love, innocent, deep and one sided. At least that’s what he thought. How could she love him? How could anyone love him when even his own father didn’t? Who would want him?

Now, JJ had messed, big time.

He was sitting beneath a tree, at the edge of the yard whims the château, a few feet away from where the water started. His gaze was turned towards the sunrise though he wasn’t really looking at the magnificent show of colours that nature was offering him. He was thinking or more like regretting.

He kept replaying the event that had happened just a few hours ago on the boneyard again and again in his mind. The arrogance on John B’s face while he taunted the kooks, the empty, psychotic look on Topper’s face while he was holding J.B’s head underwater, his own hand holding the gun against Topper’s head. It felt so powerful at the moment and yet in retrospect he felt so stupid. What would he have done if something had actually happened, if someone had gotten hurt because of him?

In the spur of the moment, he hadn’t thought about it really much. How crazy it actually was. He saw his friend in a situation where he could actually die and only thought about helping him. He had this thing with him that could help save him, an object that take could take someone’s life in the matter of seconds. So he used it at his advantage. He had only wanted to help, but at what cost.

He kept picturing the expression on y/n’s face when he got the gun out. It wasn’t anger, no it was much worse, she was terrified. She had actually been scared of him. How could he ever make up for that. How he could he ever admit what he was feeling for her after he had brought her such terror. He had ruined everything.

What if she never forgot that moment? What if she never forgave him?

A branch cracked somewhere in the distance, and JJ turned to face whoever, or whatever, was lurking in the dark. He was blinded by the bright artificial light of a flashlight. “JJ?” A voice spoke and the blond immediately recognized it. Y/n.

“Can you please turn it off, I don’t think it’s necessary,” he responded, motioning to the clarity that brought the sunrise. It was light enough for them to fully see one another.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, “-she sat down beside him- “Couldn’t sleep?” JJ stared at her for a moment before taking his eyes away.

“Yeah, you could say that. What about you? John B snoring too loud?” Y/n gave a small laugh.

“Um, no, not this time.” Her smile went down. “I had a nightmare.” JJ’s brows furrowed.

“Not about um, not about tonight right?” He asked, guilt hidden in the tremors of his voice.

Images of the past night filled y/n’s mind. Her brother being held under water, JJ pulling the gun out, the loud echoing sound of the firearm as it shot in the air. She could still hear it ringing slightly in her ears.

A small moment went by before she finally shook her head in denial, earning a small sigh of relief from the blond (at least that wasn’t his fault, he already felt guilty for so many things). “No, uh, no it wasn’t that,” she said, her voice barely audible.

JJ stared at her face in the golden light of this early morning. He noticed the blank stare in her eyes and frowned. Nightmares, although worrying for most people, were pretty common for y/n. JJ of course knew this, yet something felt odd.

He rested his hand on the small part of her back between her shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?” She turned her head to meet his eyes, the feeling of his skin, warm and soft against hers sending small tingles at the base of her neck.

She didn’t want to bother him with her problems, she knew how horrible his home life was compared to what she was living. She didn’t want to remind him of this not make him feel bad about her small problems when he was facing such violence on a daily basis. Still, she knew JJ and talking about his dad was the last thing he wanted to do. And his eyes, his beautiful ocean blue eyes, it’s like they could see through her. How could she lie to him?

“I, uh I-I-“ his hand went to her shoulder and he squeezed it reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” Y/n felt her cheeks burning (hopefully he didn’t notice it). She took a moment to breathe in deeply the fresh air, calming herself slightly before putting her hand on his.

“No, I-I want to. I think it’ll help, in a way.” JJ cracked a sweet smile. “Alright then.”

“I keep having this one dream about my dad and I see him on his boat wandering. He’s lost in the middle of the ocean and he’s calling my name.” Saying those words, she really felt as though she could hear her father calling her name in the far distance, as if he was right beside her. Sadly, it was only her imagination playing tricks on her.

“And it keeps turning to this nightmare, where he dies in various horrible ways. Either drowned or starved or eaten by sharks.” JJ’s gaze softened, his eyes admiring her lips forming each words one after the other. “But tonight-“ she let go of his hand, shifting her body to face him completely, “-tonight, for a reason, I didn’t see him.”

“The boat was empty.”

Flashes of her nightmare came back to her like waves crashing on the beach. Her dad on his boat, a smile sketched on his lips. The sky is clear blue, not a cloud is in sight. There’s a warm breeze, she can almost feel it on her skin, and the sun is shining. It’s almost utopian, the perfect day to spend out in the sea.

Then the scene changes. The sky darkens to a deeper shade of blue, grey clouds towering the ocean. The wind is stronger, much stronger. It whistles as it makes its way in the crevices between each tree and threatens to tear the sails down. And the boat, she can see it floating hauntingly on the wild waves the same way a ghost would in abandoned castle. And there’s no trace of her father. Not even a feeling, that would tell her he’s there, trying to survive this storm.

“What if he really is gone J? What if my dad-“ she stopped her sentence to look at the horizon, somehow hoping to see a sign that would prove she was wrong. “I’m trying so hard to be positive and optimistic, but it’s been so long. What if he never comes back?”

The look in her eyes was heart-wrenching. JJ didn’t know what to say or do. He never really thought about it. What would happen if Big John was gone. To be honest he didn’t want to, that man was more of father to him than his own ever was. And losing him would be... he preferred not to think about it.

“I disagree,” he finally said. “What?” “Your dad is like one of the smartest person I’ve ever known. I think that, he, of all people would know how to get out of any situation, especially if it seems impossible to everyone else. I don’t think that you should give up on him yet.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do,” he smiled. “So fuck everyone who tells you otherwise,“ y/n giggled. “Fuck all of them! You’re allowed to have hope, y/n, even after this much time. They can’t take that from you.”

“In the meantime, we’ll there’s us,” us, “the pogues, our own family. We can get through anything, right?”

“Yeah, we can.” Y/n’s head fell on his shoulder. “We’re the pogues.”

JJ admired her carefully. How her face looked, basked in the golden rays of the sun, looking so terribly tired and yet so beautiful. He could stay like this forever, losing himself completely in her smile. God she was so wonderful.

“Hey y/n/n?” “Yeah?” “Are you mad at me?” “Huh?”

“Why would I be ma- oh, oh.” The gun. He thought she was mad at him for what he did. Though he saved her brother, didn’t he? So, she didn’t understand why he would think she could hate him.

“It’s just that you looked so terrified when-” “You saved him JJ, that’s what matters most.” Y/n interrupted the boy mid sentence, placing her hand on his arm in gratitude. “If you hadn’t done anything, he could have...” she didn’t finish her sentence.

When she saw JJ holding the firearm against Topper’s head just a few hours ago, she had first been incredibly shocked. She didn’t recognize the JJ she knew. But now, she completely understood. It was his way of protecting his friends, his way of showing he cared. And that, she admired him for it. Though he could’ve shown it in a less dangerous way.

“I admit,” she added, “it was dangerous and a bit scary to see and we’re probably gonna get some kind of revenge from the kooks soon, but no one got hurt. And J.B, well he’s okay! We’re all okay!”

“Also, I’m pretty sure I did some very, very stupid things last night, so I can’t really be mad at you,” she cringed remembering the amount of alcohol influenced things she had said and done during the party. “God, I must have looked so ridiculous.”

JJ laughed at her comment. “Yes, yes you did.” “Man, John B was right, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“Can you just promise me something?” Asked y/n, once their laughter had died. “Depends what?”

“Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself with that thing, or anyone else for that matter.”

“I promise, y/n. ”

“Thank you.”

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prof-peach · 4 years ago

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Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

#pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #take this one with a pinch of salt #I’m no therapist #but I certainly hope you both find some peace

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