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#It’s​ the angst of getting excellent at something you never wanted to do in the first place
ninadove · 1 year
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Headcanon that Felix "triple horse-riding medalist" Graham de Vanily actually hates horses and would Literally Rather Die than approach one ever again
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gotham-daydreams · 8 months
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]
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How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
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Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
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Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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bitchlessdino · 6 months
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hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?
like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.
and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing
Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react
Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end
take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸
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Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.
“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”
The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.
When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.
His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.
You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.
Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.
If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 
“Keep walking.”
Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”
You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.
With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.
“Good, keep it that way.” 
Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”
Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 
You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”
Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 
“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”
The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:
“Fuck off.”
Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.
“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 
You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”
There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.
“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”
He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”
Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.
You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”
“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”
Only because you never liked me in the first place.
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”
A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”
Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.
If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.
“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.
Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”
You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.
“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.
Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”
Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.
Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.
“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”
“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.
“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”
There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.
 “Right,” he grunts.
She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.
You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”
“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”
You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”
“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”
“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”
He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 
“Without an address?”
He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”
“She really needs to find a hobby.”
Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”
You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”
“I’ll take you.” 
You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”
“Only people with a death wish.”
That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 
There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”
Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.
“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.
“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.
You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.
Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 
“Fuck you.”
“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”
You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.
“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”
“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.
“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”
You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.
You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”
You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”
“Of course. Come in.”
You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”
“This morning. Early flight.”
You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”
“Nothing like home though.”
You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”
Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”
“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”
He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”
You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”
“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”
The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”
The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”
“Well, I should get going.”
“You’re going to the party too?”
You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”
“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”
“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”
He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”
You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”
You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.
Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.
Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.
The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.
Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?
You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.
“Wonwoo, come on!”
Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.
You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.
Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.
Then panic ensues.
People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.
“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”
You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.
“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”
Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”
“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”
He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.
“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”
“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“
“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”
“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”
His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”
He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.
“Shit.”
Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”
You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”
“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”
You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”
“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”
Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 
“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.
“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”
He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”
You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”
He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”
“I’m not being like anything.”
“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”
“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.
The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”
Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 
Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”
“Whatever.”
He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 
“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”
“Sounds like bedtime.”
You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”
“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”
“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.
“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”
“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”
“What?” 
“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”
You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”
You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”
“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”
“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.
“Thank you.”
“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”
He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”
“You were kissing.”
“You could call it that.”
“For a while,” You add.
“Just enough for her to find closure.”
“And did she?”
“Saved your ass before I could find out.”
You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.
“You asleep yet.”
“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 
“Well, I'm tired.”
“Go to sleep then.”
“You should sleep before I do.”
“Why?”
He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”
“Why? I'm a grown adult.”
“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”
“Ever heard of personal space?”
“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”
“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.
“I’m only trying to protect you.”
This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”
“That’s not why–”
“Stop lying–”
“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 
You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”
“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”
“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”
“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”
“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.
“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.
“Then why are you such a dick.”
He sighs. “Sorry.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“...Sorry.”
You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”
“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”
It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Okay.”
You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 
Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo
With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.
You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 
You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.
Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.
Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.
“Hey!”
You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.
“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”
You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”
“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”
“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”
“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”
“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”
He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.
If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.
“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”
“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”
“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”
You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.
He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.
When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”
Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.
You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”
“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”
You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”
“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.
The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 
Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”
You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.
You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.
Man, he’s a large man.
“Kinda snug.”
You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”
He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”
“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.
“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 
You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”
He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”
“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”
His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”
“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”
“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”
You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”
Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”
Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”
2K notes · View notes
goldustwomun · 29 days
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bags (s.h.)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?
warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!
wc: 2.2k+
note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)
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Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags
You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.
Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.
You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.
It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.
And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.
“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.
Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.
“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.
So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.
He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.
He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.
The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.
And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.
“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.
“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.
“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"
His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”
“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”
“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.
“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.
“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”
And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”
He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”
You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.
“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—
“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.
“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.
“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.
His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”
“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.
“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  
“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.
“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.
“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”
He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.
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as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3
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jyoongim · 3 months
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A Deal With God
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Themes: fem!reader, Morningstar!reader, Angst, mention of character death, secrets, religious themeAlastor being Alastor, fluff, slight smut, deal-making,  soul possession, Lilith a shitty mother/wife/sister, established relationship, difficult family dynamic, there’s a trope in here I just don’t know what to call it?
Chapter 1
chapter 2
You had ordered Niffty that some rooms needed to be spruced up and took the liberty to tidy up the lobby yourself.
You hummed to the sound of the song playing on the radio as you neatly stacked whatever plans Charlie was coming up with in the night.
Charlie.
Your heart ached for the Princess.
After Lilith left, the Princess had founded a hotel to help redeem the souls of the damned.
You were unsure of her plan, but you could never deny her.
damn those puppy eyes.
So here you were, seven years later, helping your niece with her wild endeavor.
But you weren’t alone; 
“Aaahh just the doll I wanted to see!” A radio-like voice chirped.
Alastor.
You smiled in greeting to the lanky demon.
Alastor, the famed and fearsome Radio Demon.
You were a bit skeptical when he showed up at your door, but when he offered to help Charlie you took him in.
Who were you to say no to help? You needed the extra hands.
”Hello Al, did you need something?” The tall demon smiled down at you as he shook his head.
”Nooo just thought I would check in. How’s Charlie’s new plan along?” You laughed “ooh their a coming thats for sure” nodding towards the board she had made the other night.
An idea popped into your head “Why don’t you make a commercial Al ” He went to make a comment, but you interrupted him “A proper commercial. The sinners need to know the benefits of the hotel and that there is hope”
you waltz up to him, a soft smile on your as you batted your eyes at him ”pretty please?” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He hummed, seeming to mull over the thought, chuckling
”fine fine”
You grinned “Thank you”
He whistled as he walked out the room, you smiled after him, getting back to your task.
Your phone ringed and you answered without seeing who called. “Hello?”
A nervous laugh responded “Heeeyyy bitch”
Lucifer.
You rolled your eyes “Hello to you too Luci ”
He groaned at the nickname.
”Ugghh so hows things been….” He wanted something.
“Whaaaaat? N-Nothing what makes you think I want something?” 
he couldn’t see your face, but you were making a pointed face.
”Okay okay its just- hows-hows Charlie?” He asked.
You frowned “Charlie is fine, through it wouldn’t hurt if you came by and saw your daughter Luci”
You hadn’t forgave him for setting Charlie up to chat with Heaven months ago when he should have been the one to settle things between them.
Charlie might have a optimistic view of the world, but she lacked experience. You should have been the one to be at that meeting.
But nevertheless.
”I-I don’t know about that…” he trailed off. But you were quick to fix that avoidant nature of his.
”Come to the hotel. Come see what your daughter is trying to do. No one would take this seriously if the King doesn’t approve himself. If not that, just come see your daughter Luci, she needs more than just me around” you felt bad for guilting him but this had to be done.
Charlie was growing into an excellent leader, you were sure she would make a great queen one day.
”so you’ll be here tomorrow? Great see you then. And don’t forget…I can see you so don’t make me drag your ass here tata”
———————————————————————————————
Charlie had gathered everyone to the lobby to come up with ways to recruit sinners to the hotel.
 Charlie was nothing if a perfectionist and always took on more than she could chew.
”Hey babe maybe its time to use some of that royal privilege” Vaggie suggested, she gave a quick look in your direction, making Charlie shake her head feverishly
”no no no my auntie has already done so much! I can’t ask her to do anything else”
You smiled, but chimed in to support Vaggie “She’s right Charlie.” Your niece gawked at you.
You approached her, slipping a arm around her shoulder in comfort “Now I know it’s been rough and weird between you and your father buuuuuuut I took the liberty in inviting him here” she groaned “what? Noooooooo” you shushed her whining
“Now now you’ll get to show him that what you’ve been doing is good for the kingdom. That your heart’s in the right place. He’ll help I promise”
Charlie rested her head on your shoulder, groaning in defeat
”w-when will he be here?”
”Oh in a hour”
”WHAT?!”
———————————————————————————————-
“OH Charlie its so good to see you!” Lucifer exclaimed pulling his daughter into a tight hug.
You smiled, giggling as Charlie choked out a response to her father. You pulled him away from her, giving him a hug
”Nice to see you too Luci” the King blushed and looked around.
”sooooo this is what you two have been up to? It sure got some….character ” he said nervously.
“Well we had some help” you gestured to Alastor. Lucifer eyes narrowed slightly “uuuhhh hhhuuuhh suuurre and who might you be?” Alastor eye twitched before quickly shaking his hand “Alastor! Pleasure to meet you sir… I must say you are…much unimpressive than what I imagined” he mused, causing the man to deadpan.
You cleared your throat “Alastor here has been a tremendous help with the hotel. I don’t know what we would have done without him” you praised.
Lucifer growled as Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you into his side.
Alastor sneered at the monarch “Aaah yes what creative ladies I have here. I am HAPPY to fulfill any wish they desire” he grinned down at you, giving you a slight squeeze.
”hmmmm sister dear why don’t you show me around” he whacked Alastor’s hand with his cane and pulled your arm away from him with a tight smile.
Charlie and Alastor followed the two of you as you gave a quick briefing of the hotel, letting Charlie take over and show her dad around.
You sighed happily, it was nice to see Charlie interact with her dad. You hoped that he would see the big picture and offer her some guidance and support.
You leaned your head against Alastor’s shoulder, turning to return to the lobby
”Let’s leave those two to catch up shall we?”
He huffed but followed you anyway.
———————————————————————————-
“Well it is a very good plan b-but I don’t know Charlie” Lucifer sighed. Charlie’s face dropped. “Daaad this is the only way to prove to Heaven that sinners deserve a second chance”
Lucifer looked away from his daughter “Charlie you don’t understand-” she huffed,frustrated “what don’t I understand?  That my own father don’t believe in me? If Auntie can why can’t you?” She was holding back tears.
You were on the fence at first too, but you were willing to help her out. You supported her crazy ideas and even encouraged that she gave it her all. 
Yes it might have been far fetched,  but you believed that Charlie could do what Lucifer could not.
”Heaven wont listen to you Charlie! They didn’t listen to me. What makes you think you can change their minds?” 
You knew it was a tough question.
Charlie didn’t know the hardship of how Heaven operated.
How much Lucifer had spent centuries trying to convince them that humanity was capable of doing amazing things.
Hell, if sinners had mortal souls why couldn’t they change after death?
But you knew. Heaven was convinced that the rules were black and white. Hell was made to punish the most severe sinners.
of course this is flawed for several reasons
Hell was a punishment to all who fell.
Lucifer knew this.
But why couldn’t things change?
Charlie turned to you, a look of frustration and sadness on her face. You intervened. “Luci just one meeting. One meeting with Heaven so Charlie can at least try. I know you can’t see that things could change, but think about the possibility. Why should a sinner be damned if there’s a second chance? Heaven shouldn’t be able to decide what a person’s soul is capable of”
Lucifer sighed.
You always had a way of making him see possibilities in things.
If you believed in Charlie, then that must have meant…
”what are the odds in this succeeding” he asked you
You blinked. 
You knew what he was asking.
Your sight of everything was always nearly right.
”Theres a few bumps to sort out, but it’ll be fine” you said.
he grimaced.
”Ill even go to Heaven with her” you offered.
Charlie was going to need all the backup she needed up there.
Angels could be a piece of work.
Lucifer sighed, before turning to his daughter “Fine. One meeting-” Charlie launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his small frame and she jumped around
”thank you thank you thank you!”
He smiled, returning her hug.
Charlie ran off to find Vaggie and tell her while you watched Lucifer.
”It wont stop anything” he said as you ushered him into the office.
You hummed, pouring a cup of tea as you looked out the window into the city on the horizon.
”You don’t know that” you whispered.
Silence filled the air between the two of you.
”H-have you…you know” he started to say nervously
You turned to him, seeing him fiddle with his wedding ring.
Your stomach curled.
”what” you growled out unintentionally 
he swallowed “Have you seen Lilith?”
You stilled. Your wrist burned in warning
promise me
”I can’t tell you that” you said curtly.
Lucifer glared at you “you’ve been saying that for years!”
”and you always get the same response” you said back
He stood up and angrily approached you.
”Have you no shame? I know you. You can’t lie to me!” He was starting to raise his voice
”Luci calm dow-” 
“NO! You can see everything! Everything and everyone! so tell me sister have you seen my wife…have you seen Lilith?!”
he was grabbing your arms, shaking.
You hated the look of despair on his face, hoping that you would at least tell him something.
But your wrist burned at his question, and your anger of being put in such a predicament got the better of you.
You hissed at him “No.” you held his glare, before he sighed letting you go. He ran a hand through his hair, backing away from you “Im sorry i-i didn’t mean that”
You clicked your tongue at him sighing
”Oh Luci…” you cupped his cheek, you couldn’t tell him where she was, no Lilith made sure of that,but you could show what you’ve seen.
Lucifer’s eyes widened as flashes of his wife appeared in his mind. He didn’t know where she was,but she seemed…happy.
”I know you worry about Charlie but I will never let anything happen to her. Heaven can act all high and mighty, but surely someone up there will see reason” you said to him, breaking him out of his trance.
He shook his head slightly, giving you a soft smile, nodding.
“Sooooo you and that bellhop…” he wiggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. You tensed, looking away embarrassed. He laughed “Oh? Shy? Not you” you glared at him, folding your arms across your chest in defense “w-what? Theres nothing wrong with me trying to pursue someone” you grumbled. Lucifer smiled. It was cute at how flush you were. 
You were always the serious one.
Never really doing things for yourself.
You always held duty and responsibility above all things.
So seeing you blush over some tacky, old times fuck  guy was refreshing.
So he teased “Oooh no the Queen can do anything or anyone she likes”
You growled at him, making him laugh harder as he gave you a hug and bid you goodbye as he teleported, leaving you with your thoughts.
“Well that was interesting” you whipped around to see Alastor walking from the shadows.
You laughed nervously, “Alastor! I didn’t hear you come in…how muuuch of that did you hear?”
He smiled down at you, tilting his head “ooooh nothing I wont repeat my dear” he tapped your nose.
He rested a hand on your lower back to escort you to your room like a proper gentleman.
He kissed you goodnight before venturing off to his radio tower. He had to organize some of his thoughts.
Alastor knew you were powerful he admits only that! but he hadn’t expected you to be the Queen of Hell itself.
Yes you were the Princess’s aunt but he just chalked it up to you just having power by blood alone.
The Queen of Hell….hmph. 
Pride swelled in his chest at the thought as well as a wicked smile graced his lips His darling was one of the most powerful in all of Hell that gave him a power trip and a lingering thought
How the fuck were you the Queen? 
Just how powerful were you?
And one last thought before he turned on his broadcast
How could he use that power you wielded?
@dasimp777 @projectdreamwalker @fairyv-ice @stygianoir @k1y0yo @thewinchestah @imgonnadielaughing-blog @purplecatsandhearts @blinderthanabats-blog @saphiresai @th3-st4r-gur1 @evedenn @queenariesofnarnia @yoitsnetto @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @alastorsdear @peachedtv
@tpks @siiv3r @markster666 @okay-babe @strawberrypimp666 @coleisyn @simphornies @lunaramune @alastorsdarling @prosciuttosblog @ioniiaa @fizzled-phoenix @horrorartsworld @polytheatrix @dennsfz @yourdoorisunlocked @stawberrypimpsimp @alishii @alleystore @preciousbabypeter @yunimimii @peachedtvs @karolinda007-blog @chewbrry @aviradasa
comment below so i can see if I’m missing anyone who wants to be tagged…ALSO each chapter is linked to the last and next…
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remlionheart · 3 months
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“You came.”
“You called.”
✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.
His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.
He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.
“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.
God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.
But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.
Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.
He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.
It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.
He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.
He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.
You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.
Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.
Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”
His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.
His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.
So, he drank.
Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.
You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.
He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.
He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.
After all this time, he was still running.
With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.
Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.
“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.
“You’re up late.”
There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”
He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.
His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”
“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”
“Good. Come over.”
“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”
But he already had.
He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.
His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.
He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.
He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.
His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.
With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.
You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.
Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.
He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.
"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.
You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.
"You called."
The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.
The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.
He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.
“How’ve you been?”
It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.
But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.
“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"
He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.
“Quit.”
You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”
“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."
You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.
His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."
He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.
"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."
It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.
His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.
"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."
"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.
His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.
His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."
"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.
"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."
He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.
"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."
"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."
Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."
"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."
"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.
"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"
Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.
"Tell me to stop."
His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.
With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.
He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.
"Tell me to fucking stop."
There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.
You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."
You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.
He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.
"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.
Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.
His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”
It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"
It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.
"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"
It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.
His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.
"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.
He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.
Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.
You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.
“Fuuuck.”
You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.
His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.
You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.
“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”
It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.
You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”
“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”
You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.
“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”
He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.
You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.
Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”
He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.
"You're doing so good. Just like that."
You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.
"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.
"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."
It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.
His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.
“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.
He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
885 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 18 days
Note
i crave angst and hurt/comfort/fluff maybe something like that with vil? maybe reader gets hurt pretty badly or something and vil gets upset?? hehe angsty scenarios>>
on my hands and knees rn... vil... save me vil...
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summary: anger is an ugly emotion type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty..... mentions of bullying/abuse etc?? very open ended you can interpret that how you please, GOD this is indulgent
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Anger is an ugly emotion.
So much is true even for Vil Schoenheit. If you asked him, there is nothing more undignified than losing your composure in front of others, especially those under your care.
No, Vil keeps such emotions to himself. If he feels the need to get a point across, or to settle a conflict, he will do so with grace and dignity. He won't even break a nail.
This is different.
This is seeing you turn away from him with tears in your eyes, and feeling as if the very world itself is crashing down around him.
He cannot stand it.
He cannot stand seeing you like this.
It shakes him to his very core. You've had bad days, evenings where you come crawling into Pomefiore looking as if the world had chewed you up and spit you back out at his feet, and he's tended to it.
He's combed your hair, cleaned the dirt out from under you nails, bandaged your paper cuts with a sort of gentleness he doesn't even reserve for himself, made you look new and whole again.
Vil can't help with this.
It drives him mad. It makes him feel like he's stuck inside his own ribcage with nothing but the sound of his beating heart, trapped in a flurry of confusion and anxiety.
He wishes you would just talk about it. It would make everything so much easier if you would let him help.
But he won't pressure you. He couldn't bring himself to. And, quite frankly, if he knew even the slightest detail about whomever had been making you feel this way, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself from finding them and mincing them to shreds.
As they deserved.
But Vil is not one to rush into anything. He is patient, cordial, taking his sweet time to understand a problem from all angles before enacting a solution.
And so, he doesn't ask.
He holds your chin between his delicate fingers and dabs at the corners of your eyes, hoping to brush away your misery along with your tears.
You sniffle. It's not a pretty sight- you're certainly no graceful crier.
He couldn't care less.
The only thing that Vil can think of now is how only one measly person could be your undoing.
After everything you've been through without even breaking a sweat, all it took were a few too-familiar words to melt you into a pool of bad memories and misery at his feet.
Sevens help whichever poor fool had done this to you.
"Now, now. That's alright," he coos, wiping your cheeks just as a new barrage of tears runs down them. "Don't worry about a thing."
You just barely manage to choke out a response. "I'm sorry, this is- this is embarrassing,"
"Nonsense. You have nothing to feel bad for. I promise I won't utter a word of this to the others,"
He cups your face in his palms, giving you a moment to compose yourself.
"Deep breaths," he instructs. "Seven seconds in, hold it, for just a moment, and then seven seconds out. There. Excellent job."
It's quiet. The sound of sobs and his own heart pounding seem to fade into quiet breaths shared between the both of you.
"Good," he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. A repetitive, soothing motion. "How do you feel?"
"Guilty," you say. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening."
"You've ruined nothing. You're very important to me, you know. I would never want you to think I'm too busy for you," he offers a smile. "Now, how do you feel?"
You're quiet for a moment, likely mulling over his words. Your voice is softer when you reply. "Tired,"
"Oh... you poor thing. I can't have you dead on your feet tomorrow, now, can I?"
You shake your head.
He stands, pulling you up with him. "Come along, then. Let's get you to bed. I'll help,"
He begins guiding you away from the couch you'd spent the better half of the evening sobbing on. You respond in a quiet voice.
"Vil?"
"Mm? Yes?"
"You promise you won't say anything about this to the others?"
A look of utter softness crosses his face at your request, and he smiles again. "My lips are sealed,"
308 notes · View notes
ikeuverse · 4 months
Text
LOVE SHOT — p.jongseong
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PAIRING: cop!jay x investigator fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor, slight (really light) angst WC: 9.7k+
WARNINGS: some cursing, mention of betrayal, a slight brawl near the end. nothing to worry about, but let me know if i've forgotten anything else.
NOTES: i didn't want to focus so much on professions or the work environment itself, but i wanted something out of the ordinary (offices or coffee shops) and i thought of something more humorous, apart from the betrayal part, of course. idk if i'm 100% satisfied with this story, but all feedback is appreciated. i hope you like it!
masterlist
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Working can be both tiring and rewarding. Tiring because you put in hours – sometimes a few extra – a day throughout the week. Rewarding because you get paid for it and often end up enjoying what it can bring you.
Jay believed that work went much further than that. Being in the police force for eight years had its good and bad sides, and he couldn't romanticize something that, time and again, took his mind off things.
The good side: he applied to join the police at the end of university, as a joke with his best friend – who ended up applying three days after him – and guess what? They both got in. The aptitude test was positive and all they had to do was accept that they now had a job. You wouldn't want to throw away the years you spent studying for something that had nothing to do with the police, but after a few years, the rewards came.
For his excellent performance, still on the good side of his job, being promoted to head of special operations was something Jay never thought he'd do. Perhaps Jake, his best friend, was better suited to it. He was stronger, more agile, and had certainly been on more missions than Jay himself.
Don't belittle your achievements, Jake told him with a huge smile, content with his position as deputy boss. Because the two had always been a duo since they joined, it wouldn't be fair for Jay to move up and leave his friend behind.
But not everything could be described as a good thing, after all, there is a bit of negativity in all of this. Not just because he works to combat bad things. That was the least of the problems at the police station. But because Jay knew that being in that environment would make him experience everything intensely.
Downside: getting involved with a coworker.
Where's the downside, Jongseong? As it was easy to remember the good things, the bad things came just as easily.
Like the greatest romance cliché, Jay liked the girl straight away. Her light hair and easy smile for anyone in the department made him smile too. But it wasn't just the smile that ended up being easy. Jay had to find out the hard way, dating for three months and a week before learning of his long-awaited promotion.
Everyone at the police station knew about Jay and Yuri, the criminal cases clerk. She had joined almost a year ago, attracting the attention of some of the police officers she worked with. It was normal, after all, Yuri was pretty, and practically all the women – and there weren't many of them – who worked at the police station were pretty.
"Maybe that's a requirement for working here," Sunoo joked once in the café when Yuri walked past them.
"Or maybe they put pretty girls to the test," Heeseung, an investigator and friend of the boys, suddenly hummed.
Jay laughed, knowing that his friends were too stupid. Or maybe they were right.
But apart from being pretty, Yuri didn't really like Jay. Or he thought of that possibility as soon as he saw her with her tongue down the throat of a policeman he didn't even know, doing each other in the break room on a shift when he was supposed to be at home.
That's why she was there with another man. Yuri knew Jay's routine, and going to the break room at a time when he wasn't at the police station would be perfect for no one to catch them.
But Jay had forgotten his coat the night before and needed to put his uniform in the wash. He didn't like leaving clothes hanging and dirty.
My coat saved me from the worst, he thought as he took a long stride out of the room, leaving under the shouts of Yuri calling his name.
"Jay, wait!" she gasped, running to him as the boy rushed down the stairs.
He almost jumped down two steps at once but stopped himself because he didn't want to twist his foot or hurt himself. So he tried to go as fast as he could until he felt Yuri's hands on his arm.
"What do you want?" he asked in a string of voices, holding back all his anger so as not to shout at her.
Firstly because they were on the stairs and it would make a huge echo, and secondly because Jay, even if he was nervous, would never shout at a woman. Even if she deserved it.
"It's not… No…"
"Don't tell me it's not what I think, because I saw it" that tone sent a chill down anyone's spine. Both Yuri and the people at the police station had only ever seen Jay talk like that in some negotiation – almost non-negotiable – or with some guy who challenged the battalion they worked in.
"This is all your fault" she said after a while when she saw that Jay wasn't saying anything, now seeing the horrified expression on his face "You're too focused on the job and…"
"Because I'm paid to do that, Yuri" he interrupted her "Not to mention that we work in the same environment, we see each other every day" Jay took a few steps towards her, tilting his face so that it was level with his – now ex – girlfriend "And I've always taken time out, in all my breaks, to see you. So what's my fault that you cheated on me right under my nose?"
Silence. One sigh, two, three.
Jay knew that was the cue to leave, so, disengaging Yuri's hand from his arm, he left as hurriedly as he had before.
And that had been the last conversation he had with his ex before, a week later, he learned of his promotion to boss.
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Jay didn't want people to feel sorry for him or treat him differently after what had happened. For a long time, he had to deal with painful looks in his direction, and sometimes his colleagues wanted to drag him to some dance club to try and forget what had happened.
The only one who understood was Jake. Being in the same office as his best friend helped him keep his sanity when someone made some kind of comment, even if it wasn't a mean one, about what had happened.
It lasted a couple of months and he wanted to punch himself for ranting and hinting that something had happened. But as soon as his relationship became known, he knew that the break-up and betrayal would go the same way.
"People are giving her the stink eye right now" Sunoo walked into the special operations unit room, poking Jake in the head and then walking over to Jay, handing him a cup of coffee.
"No coffee for me?" Jake muttered quietly, grimacing and running over to Jay to sip his drink, knowing that his best friend wasn't in the mood for it.
"I didn't want any of this" Jay sighed, wiping his hands across his face in exhaustion.
"Sure, who wants to be betrayed?" Jake dodged another nudge from Sunoo, grabbing his coffee cup and heading over to his table.
"What I mean is…" he sighed, ignoring Jake who continued humming as he sipped the hot liquid, working wonders on his system because he really needed some caffeine "Yuri's reputation was tarnished after that, even Liam's."
"Liam?" Jay frowned.
"The policeman… You know…" Sunoo scratched the back of her head and tried her best to smile. Not that she wanted to smile at the situation, but maybe she wanted to reassure Jay a little.
It was only then that the boy realized. Liam was the one with Yuri, the policeman Jay had seen making out with his ex-girlfriend in the break room.
He didn't even want to know anything about the guy: his name, who he was, what position he was in. He could only tell that he was a policeman by his clothes, but for the rest, Jay tried to push it out of his mind and even walked away when someone brought it up. He only found out because Sunoo had said it out loud.
"Well, may he do well, then" Jay got up from his chair when the alarm went off, indicating that they needed to be in the meeting room to organize strategies for a new case.
Passing Jake's desk, he took the cup from his best friend's hand – halfway, thankfully – and drank the rest of the coffee.
"Hey!" Jake protested.
"It was meant for me, asshole" Jay cursed and laughed when the other tried to say something else, but got up and walked along with Sunoo behind Jay.
The three of them headed towards the huge room and entered. They weren't the first because Heeseung was already there, his typical tired smile indicating that he had just woken up. Maybe he'd been at the police station all night to sort something out.
"I think someone needs coffee too" Jake hummed.
"Go and get it, since you've had all my coffee" Jay said.
"I was doing you a favor" that funny little discussion was typical of almost every day. Because of Jay and Jake's intimacy and because the department was so heavy, funny energy was always a good way to get work done.
Gradually the room filled up, Jay's people came in and greeted the head and deputy head. Waving to Sunoo and Heeseung too.
When everyone was properly positioned, like a regular meeting, the chief of the police station greeted them and began to pass on some instructions and changes in some cases.
It wasn't often that he tinkered much with Jay's department, being one of the few who managed to play the role straight without too many changes. But Park, like a good boss, knew he was having a bit of trouble accessing information for a new case.
So when the station boss called his name, the boy straightened up in his chair and sniffled.
"Yes, boss" Jay greeted the gray-haired man, receiving a smile in response.
"I've been thinking and I want to know if you mind changing a few things in your case" he stood, resting one hand on the table while the other was in the holster at his waist.
"Of course not, boss, whatever you think is best."
The man nodded positively, looking at Heeseung this time.
"I thought I'd put some investigators on your case, you know, gather information" that was brilliant, considering that Jay was on a high-risk case. Where he needed to know more about people until he got to the main suspect – and criminal – in fact.
Heeseung seemed surprised, having never thought of working directly with special ops personnel where he only heard Jay and Jake's crazy stories. It sounded pretty exciting.
"But I think Heeseung alone would be too little for the size of your case, guys" Heeseung just agreed with his boss, knowing that he couldn't do it alone either "So I took the liberty of calling in two other people, if that's okay with you."
"That's fine with me" Jay smiled quickly.
He couldn't count how long he was paralyzed between the police chief calling in the new people to work on his case and the moment his eyes landed on you.
The dark uniform, the shiny badge hanging around your neck, and the most captivating smile Jay had ever seen in his life. Strangely, he felt elated when you looked at him, holding his gaze and waving to greet him.
"This is Y/n, deputy boss of investigations. And Stella, the boss of the department" the gray-haired man introduced, and just hearing Jay's name was worth a lot.
Stella talked all the time about how she and her department would contribute to the operation, Heeseung did a great job of adding some information along with his boss while talking to the special ops men.
But not Jay. He just didn't know what to say. It was as if he felt like a teenager again, unable to utter a single word in front of the most beautiful girl in school.
"Right" Jake noticed his best friend's pause, holding back a smile because it would be used against him a few minutes later "Jay and I are happy about the addition to our team. We're going to work very well together and I think a team of investigators would be perfect. Welcome."
After the thanks, Jake asked some of his boys to go over what progress they had made so far with the new team of investigators. You and Stella followed him, while the people in the room gradually dissipated until Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Heeseung were left.
"We have to go too, don't we?" Jay stood up.
"Oh, now he's learned to talk again" Sunoo joked.
"What?" Jay's eyes widened as he heard the other three burst into laughter.
"Dude, you froze when y/n walked in" Heeseung held in his laughter so he could finish his sentence.
"Me? Of course not."
"I had to introduce you, you couldn't even say your name" Jake pushed Jay's body as he stood up, leaning on the table and grinning mischievously "So that's her?"
"That's her? Her what?" Jay looked at the three of them, one at a time, receiving knowing looks from his friends.
"Who's going to make you dismantle that barrier you've created in your heart."
Jay hated how direct Sunoo was with his words. He didn't hate it completely, because he knew that Jake said things slowly, testing the waters, while Sunoo got straight to the point and didn't beat around the bush. Heeseung was more of a moral supporter, always trying to see the bright side of things and, even if he didn't, the boy made a good point about it.
"She's kind and very beautiful" Heeseung said, wrapping his arm around Jay's shoulders "Not to mention that she loses bets easily and gives a sensational shoulder massage."
"What? You…" Jake walked into his and Jay's living room, awestruck by Heeseung's words.
Jay didn't want to be disappointed at the thought of Heeseung's closeness to you, but he felt like a complete idiot for thinking that way when he had only known you for less than twenty minutes.
"We're very good friends, just like you, Jake and Sunoo" he was the last to enter, disengaging his arm from Jay's shoulder to close the door and sit down on the small dark leather sofa.
"Tell us more about it" Sunoo asked, and Jay was grateful for the directness as he didn't want to seem desperate for information.
He didn't even know why he was so intrigued by you.
Heeseung didn't mince his words when he started telling about the first time he met you and Stella. He had joined the police force in almost the same year as Jay and Jake. Eight years in one environment was a long time, and a year and a half later you were both there, in the same department as him. Completely out of place because you were the only women and investigators.
Of course, there was a bit of prejudice from other people and even a certain masked machismo, but not with Heeseung. He had been the only one to talk to them, to ask them to lunch.
"Oh, that's why you canceled a few lunches with us" Jake recalled.
Continuing the story in which he had been entertained, seeing the attention of the three in front of him, Heeseung sat down a little more comfortably on the sofa to finish speaking.
Those years of being friends with the only women in the department had made Heeseung work hard, include his friends in any case he entered and, without a doubt, ask them for their opinion. To show that they were just as capable as he was.
It was no wonder that, three years later, Stella was being appointed boss of the investigation department. A change here and there removed the former male boss from his post, and the police station apologized for the whole thing because there were too many departments to manage and they were sorry that someone from their building had been through so much bad stuff.
"Did you want to be boss?" Jay asked.
"Not in a million years" Heeseung replied quickly, "I'm not good at it."
"What do you mean?"
Sunoo knew what he meant, but it was funny to remember Heeseung's antics in the police force. Like when he almost broke your arm, when you two went after a case to investigate and he tripped over his own feet running after the suspect. Not realizing that you were so close that he fell on top of you.
Or when he doused the micro camera from another mission, costing thousands just for that investigation, an expensive piece of equipment that the head of the police station shelled out for just so they could have such excellent materials to capture the suspect.
Heeseung was content with his fumbles and also knew that it was a lot of responsibility, he was happy with his position.
"What about the deputy boss?" Jay didn't even bother to ask anymore since all his friends were too curious for that.
"Don't be fooled, she's just as clumsy as I am" Heeseung laughed "But y/n investigated that serial killer last year, it gave her a lot of visibility" he remembered sleepless nights helping his friend with the case. He'd dropped out at first because he'd been recruited for something else, but when he had time off, he ended up helping "She asked me to be the deputy boss, but I got scared of the title and ended up almost fainting at the appointment meeting."
"Heeseung" Jake swallowed back a laugh, closing his eyes as he shrugged.
"Huge positions make me nervous, I'm sorry" he apologized, making himself comfortable on the sofa in Jay and Jake's living room "But it's good that the two people they despised the most just for being women are now heads of the department" he smiled genuinely happy "And I'm one position below y/n, my salary is higher than all those idiots."
At least there was something good that Heeseung hadn't been nervous about, he could handle a good amount – almost triple – his old salary and still be close to the two women from the start.
"Okay, now talk about the massage or Jay will explode" Sunoo ordered after a while, seeing that his friend was restless in his chair. Jay hated being so expressive like that or that his friends knew him so well.
He rolled his eyes, ready to refute what Sunoo had said when Heeseung started talking.
"Me and y/n live off bets. Whether it's our cases or those of other colleagues" he closed his eyes, sighing a little as tiredness began to take over his body. "So if she loses, she's obliged to massage my shoulders for a week. And if I lose, I'll buy her lunch for a week."
"That sounds like…" Sunoo began.
"Cool. Shall we do it?" Jake turned to Jay, seeing him roll his eyes.
"I wouldn't massage your shoulders," he retorted.
"But you'd let y/n do it on you?"
Yes. He bit his tongue to answer, almost letting it slip without thinking.
Heeseung laughed when he opened his eyes and saw Jay's mental dilemma between answering or not.
The boss of the department also started to feel bad, as if he was invading something that Heeseung seemed to have built up with you, after all, the two of you seemed very close.
Jay didn't realize he'd been rambling on for too long, only realizing when Heeseung was standing in front of him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. Jake and Sunoo had already left the room, probably going to get some coffee or pick up something about the case they had to work on.
"Relax, dude" Heeseung commented as soon as Jay stood up, walking out of the room beside him.
"What about?" he asked, not knowing why his tone was hesitant.
"Y/n is my best friend" he said simply, having Jay's eyes fixed on his face the whole time he spoke, "And she's also the one responsible for getting me together with Stella."
"Oh" was all he managed to say. Jay hadn't noticed, no one had.
Either Heeseung and Stella were extremely professional, or Jay was so intrigued to know about you that if his friend had said something about his girlfriend, he didn't pay attention.
"My relationship with y/n could be the same as the one you'll have with Stella if you start a relationship with her best friend" he let slip, laughing at Jay's expression. He hadn't said anything and his friends were already thinking about a relationship? "Don't worry, I approve of you two dating."
Arriving at the coffee shop, Heeseung ran up to his two friends, who were already ordering the coffee they were all drinking together.
With no chance to reply, Jay stood there for long minutes thinking about everything that had happened that day.
He had met one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life, if not the most beautiful. He had learned that Heeseung was dating her and, what's more, his best friend was the one who had been making him think for so long.
A woman, in his workplace, making his heart race. Something he swore would never happen again.
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You knowing a little more about Jay – beyond what was circulating around the police station – was a sign that he also knew about you, even more so when Heeseung said some qualities or even the way you two exchanged glances the first time you met in that meeting room, almost a month ago.
You were the cupid for Heeseung and Stella's relationship, and now you were sure that your friend was trying to do the same thing with you and Jay.
"No one told you to say out loud that the head of special operations was hot" Stella whispered, biting into the snack she had brought because today was going to be a busy day, with no chance of lunch in the refectory.
"I thought you and I were the only ones in the room" you tried to defend yourself, remembering the exact moment when you sighed and said how hot Jay was. Heeseung entered a few seconds earlier, without making a fuss, hearing exactly the moment when you almost whimpered.
Of sure he pestered you for weeks before he started talking to you a bit more about Jay.
"All right, all right" Stella finished, "but you know Hee's only trying to help."
"Hee" you rolled your eyes, making your best friend laugh. Your relationship with Heeseung was almost like big brother and little sister. You felt like Stella was your sister-in-law.
"Hey, girls" Heeseung waved from the door of the investigation office.
"Speaking of the devil" you smiled falsely, unwrapping your snack just as your friend walked in, muttering some swear words at you as he made his way over to Stella's desk.
The smack of lips from the two of them kissing made you sigh at how cute they were, but as soon as Heeseung's eyes met yours, you faked a vomiting noise just to pick on him.
"Put down your snacks, we're going to lunch" he said, holding Stella's sandwich halfway and pulling it away from her hands.
"We don't have time, love. Me and y/n have a lot to do before we meet the operations staff…"
"Exactly" Heeseung smiled at his girlfriend "Let's have lunch with them and go straight to the office, we have a lot of work."
After the end of the sentence Heeseung immediately looked in her direction. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.
Did he plan that? Lunch with the special ops guys meant lunch with Jay. And you felt embarrassed enough that your friend had caught you confessing that the head of another department was hot. Looking at him and having lunch with him wasn't on your mind, at least not until this case was over.
"I don't think so" you said.
"Come on, y/n, let's go" Heeseung asked, pouting. He knew it wouldn't convince you, especially coming from him, but trying was always an option for the boy "Jay asked you to go."
You knew he hadn't asked you to do anything, Heeseung had just said that to see if you'd cheer up and, in the worst or best case scenario, he and Stella's thoughts about you being into Jay could have been right. He was, but you wouldn't say anything until then.
"Stella" you called out to your friend, who was already packing up to leave the room. In defeat, you got up from your desk and tidied up before joining the couple "Do you mind being widowed early? I think I'm going to kill your boyfriend."
Heeseung's hysterical scream echoed down the corridor, and no one thought it strange since this was the two of you's relationship there. People got so used to laughing with you and him that it was strange the other way around. When you or Heeseung were too serious, not joking or shouting around. The head of the police station even thanked you for bringing a little joy to such a chaotic environment.
As soon as they arrived at the refectory, it was relatively crowded and not very surprising, given that it was the exact time that almost all the departments were there.
Heeseung spotted the table where the other three friends were sitting and waved to get their attention. With his free hand, he intertwined his fingers with Stella's to lead the way and walk with the two of you to the rest of the people.
"You really did it" Sunoo applauded as soon as the three of you reached the table "He said it would be almost impossible to get you two out of that room."
"Considering he almost stole our snack" you commented.
"I'm going to expose you" Heeseung hissed.
"Fuck off" you said in the same tone.
The laughter was contagious as the two of you started talking, while you realized that Heeseung had already reserved a seat for him and Stella next to Jake, leaving only one seat between Jay and Sunoo.
I'll kill you.
You son of a bitch.
I hate you.
There were a few curses that you uttered silently, just moving your lips as you went around the table to sit between the two men.
Heeseung, holding back his laughter, sat down to in front of Sunoo.
"Shall we wait for the line to shorten and get lunch?" Stella asked.
"Or we could go in threes to save our table too" Sunoo said.
"Good idea" Heeseung nodded "Can it be me, Stella, and Jay?"
"Sure, go ahead" Jake replied, waving to the three of them who were getting up.
Jay tried his best not to look tense as you sat down next to him, noticing the look on his face as soon as he stood up. It was infectious, so he smiled as soon as you smiled back as a small greeting before he joined Heeseung and Stella for the lunch line.
"You know" Jake leaned across the table, catching your eye until you finally looked at him and stopped staring at Jay, "I think you two are cute."
"What?" you widened your eyes.
Sunoo laughed, wanting to hit Jake, but he was too far away for that.
"I don't know, I think you and Jay would be cute together" he was playing with the wrapper of something, probably the straw from the empty coffee cup in front of him "and since I'm his best friend, I approve of that."
"Heeseung and you are up to something, right?" your eyes narrowed, making Jake mimic the act and then laugh a little.
"Those two are idiots, y/n. Don't mind them" Sunoo touched your shoulder so gently that you turned to him, smiling in appreciation "But you two are really cute."
"I was starting to like you" your eyes now narrowed at Sunoo, who was laughing just like Jake a few minutes earlier.
The three of you got into a completely different conversation after that, talking about other police departments and what you would do if you had never joined the police.
That made for a good few minutes of conversation until Jay, Heeseung and Stella came back with trays of food. Then it was time for you three to go. Grateful that it hadn't taken too long – and that there was fruit salad – you and Sunoo grabbed two containers each, celebrating that you now had a friend who loved fruit salad too. None of the others would take that salad and you didn't know how, loving that the same indignation was shared by Sunoo.
"Now we can eat just the two of us" he whispered before returning to the table.
In another conversation, now completely different and without provocation, you noticed that Jay's laughter was contagious. His gaze was much more fixed on you than on anyone else at the table, but the atmosphere was so pleasant that you were no longer embarrassed to have to look at him so closely. Or to feel his hand brushing lightly against yours a few times when the two of you went to get something from the tray to eat because you were sitting next to each other.
For Jay, after years, that feeling was rediscovered. He thought he was rusty, worn out from feeling something good romantically or even in the form of interest in someone. But not when you talked so animatedly, or with the swearing at Heeseung while he stole some fries from your tray.
Jay didn't have time to experience this feeling with Yuri because she didn't care much for Jay's friendships, not even Jake whom he had known since high school.
Yuri seemed to want to deprive him of some things even though they had only been together for a short time.
Don't call them haunts, they'll show up, Jay thought to himself as soon as he looked up, two tables away. Yuri was staring at him fervently, looking as if her face was red from something spicy she had eaten. But there was nothing spicy on the menu, so why did she look like she was about to explode?
"Jay" he quickly turned to you, surprised that you were calling him. He stared at you, realizing that you were whispering while his friends were talking loudly and excitedly about another conversation. He leaned in close enough for you to continue saying "Are you okay?"
Don't make it difficult, y/n. I can't feel like kissing you right now, he sighed but nodded in agreement.
"I am, it's just…" he looked again at the table Yuri was at, wanting to curse himself in every possible way when you looked in the same direction and then at him.
Your posture straightened and you had a frightened look on your face.
In your mind, he was still thinking about his ex, so all the joking around that his friends were doing wouldn't lead anywhere.
In his mind, Jay didn't care if Yuri was angry with another woman sitting next to him or not. He only cared about your interpretation and what you thought of it. He didn't want it to be taken the wrong way and end something that had barely begun.
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"Am I supposed to feel bad that she's ignoring me?" Jay huffed, untying his holster and throwing it on the table abruptly.
He didn't understand why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he and the team of investigators had finally started working together, and you were the only one who wasn't looking directly into his eyes anymore.
For the first few days, Jay thought it was the nervousness of the interaction since he also knew how much his friends teased him about the whole situation. But then he started to put the pieces together, exchanging glances with Yuri… until Heeseung went in as a personal investigator and tried to get something out of it.
"His ex looked like she was going to kill him with just that look" you whispered to your friend, telling him what had happened in the refectory. Heeseung even opened his mouth to say something, but Jake had called for them to start organizing the operations.
Jay didn't feel good about it. The relationship had been years ago, people had talked about it for months until it had cooled down and, after all this time, he finally felt ready to rediscover his feelings, or whatever they were, for you. But it seemed that Yuri was suffocating him even though you were no longer with him.
The few things you told Heeseung that weren't secret, he told Jay. And that made him understand why you were ignoring him.
"She just thinks too much" Stella pulled out the swivel chair to sit next to Jay's desk. Only the two bosses were there after Heeseung left with Jake "Y/n doesn't have such a…"
"As bad as mine?" Jay let out a sarcastic whisper, hating the way Yuri could still affect him even though he hadn't done anything.
"I wouldn't put it like that, but since you did" she shrugged, causing Jay to let out a small laugh. Remembering when Heeseung said that she would probably be the friend that Jay could pick on, just like Heeseung and you did.
"I don't know, I really liked her, you know? It was weird, but I liked it" Jay sat down and leaned all his weight on the chair. Stella remained silent, enjoying the free venting session "I never thought I could have this feeling after what Yuri did."
"She was a bitch."
"Yes, she was" Jay let Stella laugh at the situation, ending up laughing too "Now your friend hates me."
"No, she doesn't" the woman pouted, twisting in her chair as she stared at the office ceiling "Maybe she needs to hear from you what happened."
"That my ex is psychotic and even I don't know why she was looking so angry?" he asked.
"Exactly" Stella stopped spinning, raising her head and meeting Jay's gaze "Then you can ask her to dinner."
The naturalness with which Stella had said it made Jay certain why she and Heeseung were a perfect couple.
"Right, I…"
"Rest room" she said as soon as he stood up "Not the one you… Well… It's been forbidden since Jake told us what floor it was. So we don't go there anymore."
He laughed, probably imagining the story his best friend had told to try to convince them. The betrayal in itself was already a story, but Jake had certainly increased it by 300%, even telling them that they would have bad luck in any niche of life if they continued resting in the room he entered and found Yuri and the other policeman.
Jay listened carefully to where the restroom was and quickly climbed the stairs, not wanting to wait for an elevator – and there were only two flights – he arrived so quickly that he had to catch his breath as he walked through the corridors until he arrived in front of the door.
You can do it, Jongseong. He said to himself before turning the handle and entering.
Stella was right, you were in that room sitting on the sofa with your feet propped up on the coffee table. A cup of juice was in front of you and your attention was focused on some papers in your hands. You only looked away when Jay snorted, causing you to startle and quickly get up from the sofa.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said afterward, noticing that you weren't expecting him there. Well, he wasn't even expecting to come after you, if he was honest.
"It's okay, I… I was just leaving" you put the papers in the envelope and tried to look for your coat.
"No, wait," Jay ordered.
Don't keep talking, don't say anything.
"I wanted to talk to you."
Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you turned back to pick up the cup of juice on the coffee table, letting all the air out of your lungs in a sigh, hoping that Jay hadn't heard the urgency with which it had happened.
Turning to face him, with the envelope in one hand and the cup of juice in the other, you nodded, indicating that you were listening.
"Something wrong with the case? I was reviewing some—"
"It's nothing to do with the case" Jay interrupted subtly, taking a few more subtle steps towards you. If you noticed the approach, you didn't flinch, only noticing how close he was when, with one more step, Jay would completely glue his body to yours.
"So what's it about?" you didn't even know because your voice dropped an octave, let alone why Jay was whispering when there were only the two of you there.
Carefully and without answering anything, he took the envelope and the cup from your hand, placing them both on the coffee table and finally bringing his body completely close to yours.
You knew Jay's proportions from the way his muscles were well-defined by his dress clothes, his suspenders, and any other possible garment. You also knew how fit he was because you'd seen him once in a while in casual clothes, when he went to the police station to pick up something he'd forgotten or even helping you and Jake, as deputy boss, who stayed late solving the case you were working on together.
You knew that. But seeing it up close seemed to be even bigger than usual.
"About the misunderstanding on refectory day" every word Jay uttered, he made a point of prolonging the ending just so that the air from his mouth hit your skin. Making you close your eyes and concentrate on the minty breath mixed with coffee.
Your mouth opened to protest, but Jay – not knowing where the courage had come from – brought one of his hands to your waist to press your body against his. This kept you quiet for a few seconds, even if he had intended to shut you up in some other way. And he wanted to. He would.
Jay leaned in close enough for you to feel his warm lips brushing against yours. One more little impulse and you'd press your lips to his, feel even more of the minty coffee breath in your mouth. Your hands circle his chest until they meet the collar of his dress shirt.
And with that, Jay knew it was time to move on and finally press his lips to yours.
"Holy fuck, Heeseung!" the bang of the door together with Jake's shout made you and Jay separate quickly.
Not because you were caught almost kissing, but because Jake's scream had startled you both.
"I didn't know it was this break room" he almost cried "Oh my God, forgive me."
"I'm going to kill you" Jake kept shouting "Sorry, guys. You two… Can you…" he looked between you and Jay, his hand still on your waist and you keeping your hand against his chest "Go on…"
"Did you even kiss?" Heeseung asked.
"Both of you, out. Now!" you could see Jay's authoritative tone, but with a hint of playfulness as he tried to hold back his laughter when he saw his two friends, wide-eyed, rush to close the door to the restroom and get out of there as quickly as they had entered.
He looked at you again, smiling broadly as you mirrored his smile.
"How about we go downstairs? They probably haven't even left the hall and I don't want them getting in our way again" you said.
"If you promise me we can pick up where we left off afterwards."
"When?" you turned to Jay as he picked up your things from the table, you walked to the chair on the other side of the room to get your coat.
"I think we're staying late tonight and, well, I can't let you go home alone, can I?"
"Maybe I'll skip Stella's ride" you shrugged.
"I'd love that" he smiled, moving closer and leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Handing you the cup of juice and taking the case envelope, Jay opened the door just as Heeseung and Jake were leaning over it, almost falling into the room and on top of the boss when he took a step forward.
"Jay! Y/n!" Jake greeted the two of you. Jay stared at you for a second, then looked at the two of you right in front of him.
"I'm the one who's going to kill you two" he gritted his teeth and put his hand on his waistband, where his holster would be. Jake and Heeseung didn't even want to check, just running down the corridor and shouting for Jay not to do anything. He also ran after his friends shouting a few curses, while you stayed behind to turn off the lights and close the door.
You always looked forward to leaving work, even when you were working overtime. But today, in particular, was the day you most wanted to leave in company.
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You wondered how you could live so long without having Jay's lips on yours. Or how you managed to survive without feeling every touch, or how easily you woke up and went to sleep without having him in your bed?
The answers came little by little over the two months since the first kiss you two shared, in his car, when he drove you home late at night. Maybe not just a kiss and you knew Stella would freak out when you told her you had sex with Jay in the back seat of his car. But if she shared things about Heeseung and herself, it was your turn too.
You feared that things would cool down, or that you and he would feel so overwhelmed with work that you wouldn't want to keep what you were having.
No labels, not a single statement.
The most that came out of each other's mouths was "I like you, you know that?" and then a smile so silly that neither of you wanted to intensify it. For fear that everything was going so well and it could simply be ruined.
Or for you, who had never felt like this and fallen in love with someone.
"So this is what it's like to be in love?" you asked Heeseung dreamily when you were both in the break room. A week before the case you shared with Jay's department closed.
Having in-depth conversations with him was better than with Stella because with her you were a little afraid. She seemed like a protective mother and was sure to tell you all the pros and cons of being in love.
It was also difficult for Jay to know that he was in love, even more so after everything he had experienced so far.
"I don't want to hurt her" he sighed, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes tightly.
"You won't" Jake assured his best friend "You've finally managed to fall in love again and I'm glad it's someone like you."
"Why?" he asked, looking at his best friend.
"Because she looks after you and cares" he said "And because she treats your friends well, that's enough, don't you think?"
Jay knew it was because Yuri had never been very nice to Jake. So small attitudes counted, there was no comparison between the two of you, he knew there was no reason to be afraid. But he also knew that he needed to find a moment in which he could say what he felt.
He wanted the security of knowing that you were in love too. And you wanted him to feel good and safe being around someone else after the enormous trauma he'd been through.
The two of you – without knowing it – silently shared the same care.
"Y/n, Stella" the head of the police station entered the room, dispelling your thoughts and making you focus on the gray-haired man who had just entered. You and your friend stood up, greeting the middle-aged man and smiling as kindly as he did "Are you busy?"
"Never for you, sir" Stella said with a smile.
"Good, I need you two for a day" he said, slowly shifting his gaze between you and Stella "It's a criminal case and I know Heeseung is with Jake, so you're the only two I can trust."
"Perfect, do you want it now?"
Stella's question made the boss agree, leading the two of you out of the room and towards the criminal cases department. You usually left such matters to Heeseung or even another teammate, but seeing your boss call for you and your best friend was really endearing. It meant that he trusted the two of you, chief and deputy chief, to do the job well.
The department was much bigger than the one you and Stella worked in, after all, criminal cases had a large proportion. And investigators could work in any department as long as they were asked to, as was happening now.
"We have a transcribed case and we need you two to take a look at it and try to spot something that the other investigator didn't find" the chief passed the paper to Stella, letting her read it and then pass it on to you.
As soon as she'd finished, her eyes went carefully over the document, listening attentively to her boss and best friend, punctuating a few things with the older man and hearing him agree and add more things that other policemen had discovered too.
"So we have a starting point, that's good" he said after you'd finished reading, nodding to someone behind you and beckoning you to come closer.
"Girls, this is Yuri, the one who wrote the document that you two have just read" this could only be a joke in very bad taste. But no. From the seriousness your boss presented, you knew it was strictly professional.
Stella looked at you quickly, trying not to look so shocked when she faced Yuri first. Just a nod was enough for the greeting.
You, in turn, turned slowly until you were face to face with the woman. She seemed as surprised as you were. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, but as soon as she saw your serious expression, jaw set and misty eyes, Yuri smiled.
"Hi boss. Girls" she greeted.
"Yuri, this is Stella and Y/n, the boss and deputy boss investigators I asked to read the document you wrote" he explained.
"Oh, yes. Stella is the boss" she pointed at her friend "And y/n is the deputy boss who is taking my leftovers and sleeping with my ex-boyfriend?"
"Excuse me?" you knew it was ridiculous to fight for these reasons, but hearing her swear at you gratuitously wasn't on the list of good manners you swore to uphold at work. So when you pushed her against the table as hard as you could, hearing the thud of Yuri's body in the same tone as her loud scream, you knew you were done for.
"Y/n, what's that?" your boss asked, shocked by the reaction.
Stella really was a great boss, or she tried to approach Yuri for fear that you'd end up actually hitting the woman. So she helped her up, seeing that the blow had been really hard.
"I don't tolerate disrespect, boss."
"But we don't tolerate aggression" he was shocked, but he didn't seem angry. He knew his employees so well, especially you – along with Heeseung – that it was almost impossible to see them with their faces closed.
"She won't be working on my case anymore" Yuri's voice was tearful, her eyes watery and her breathing rapid.
"Your case? I'm the deputy boss here, you self-interested bitch."
It was Yuri's turn to try to do the same to you, but Stella was already holding her back and her boss had put himself between the two of you, afraid that something else might happen.
"Stella" he called out.
"Boss" the two of you exchanged places, she held you down to get you out of there while he pulled Yuri away and tried to talk to her.
"I'll meet you in your office in five minutes" he said before your friend could get you out of that department. You felt your blood boil as you cursed Yuri one last time.
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"What?" Jake felt the pillow being pressed against his face by Sunoo, listening intently to everything you had said so far.
"Jake, please" you begged, whimpering.
"She told us because if she told Heeseung, he'd scream and Jay would find out" Sunoo recalled.
That's why the three of you were in the break room on the top floor.
Your boss chose to suspend you and Yuri for two weeks. This consisted of no badges, no guns, no holsters and, above all, no going to the police station. You just had to wait for the day to end and then go home and be grounded for two weeks, as Stella said as soon as she had told the story in a more motherly way to the two boys in front of you before going to meet Heeseung and Jay.
"I just need to know what to do to tell him" you paced back and forth in the living room, on the other side of the coffee table.
"When did this happen?" Jake asked.
"Thirty or forty minutes ago, I'm not sure" you said.
"Okay, then" he straightened his arm, glancing at his wristwatch "In ten minutes or so, Jay will know and he'll be shouting down the corridors looking for you."
"Y/n" was Jay's voice. And he sounded extremely angry.
"Maybe less than ten minutes" he tried to joke about the situation, knowing that even though it wasn't funny, it made you let out a quick laugh "Right, I'm not going to let him talk to you now. That won't be good."
"Let's go outside" Sunoo ordered, getting up from the sofa along with Jake.
"Fucking hell!" Jake shouted in fright as Jay opened the door without warning "You need to tell us when you're coming in, there are people who could die of a heart attack."
Jay looked at his best friend, without really answering him, then looked at Sunoo and finally at you.
"We need to talk."
"Now?" you tried to smile, showing all your teeth as you looked at Jake for help.
"Now" he said seriously.
"You know what?" you stood behind Sunoo at all times "I promised Jake I'd help him with some papers, you know."
"Yeah, deputy boss stuff" Jake shrugged.
Jay sighed, massaging the space between his nose and eyebrow with the slight headache he was feeling.
"There's no way you can help him when you're suspended from work for two weeks" he said coldly.
Shit. It was the only quick swear word you could think of, not knowing what to say as you watched Jay ask – almost order – Jake and Sunoo to leave the room.
You wanted to go with them, almost grabbing Sunoo and running past Jay without him being able to stop you, but your two fearful friends ran out of the room and quickly closed the door.
Silence settled in as Jay continued to stand by the door, a long distance from where you were still standing by the coffee table in the break room. He looked around without looking at you for long minutes, perhaps thinking, cursing. You didn't know.
And that was making you more and more anxious. What was he going to fight you for? The fight or because you stood up to his ex? Or because you stood up to his ex by fighting in a way that resulted in your suspension?
What was Jay thinking, anyway?
As if he could read thoughts, while you were thinking about his name, that gaze finally stopped on you. It was loaded with so many things that you couldn't even decipher which was which first, but one of them was fear. Jay seemed afraid of something as he approached you in hurried, persistent steps.
As soon as he stopped right in front of you, he ran his thumb over your cheek and leaned close enough to brush his lips against your forehead.
"What…" you whispered, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.
"I wanted to scare you a little, just like Stella scared me when I found out" he said in the same tone, lowering his lips to kiss yours quickly.
You slapped his arm, causing Jay to laugh as he wrapped his arms around you and finally kissed you once more.
It was slow but intense. Every movement made you sigh against his mouth while the way Jay deepened the kiss made you even more enamored of him. Even more in love and addicted to his touches. He stopped when he needed to catch his breath, not only because he was kissing you, but also because he had run into the living room to find you.
Staying with his forehead against yours, touching the tip of your nose with his, Jay sighed.
"Suspended? Really, y/n?" the tone was playful, but at the same time scolding.
"What? Could she talk the way she talked to me?" you asked, slightly offended at still remembering what she had said.
Jay shook his head, tightening his arms even more around your waist.
"She couldn't" he replied, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He wanted to say it without having to look you in the eye, so maybe close to your ear would be a good idea, so you could hear him and he wouldn't have to interrupt "I was just afraid."
You knew him well, how strange. He really was afraid.
"Afraid of what?" you tried to get him to look at you, but every time he moved, Jay sank his face further into your neck, sniffing your skin and whimpering that he wanted to stay there.
"Afraid she'd ruin anything I was thinking of having with anyone" he said, his voice muffled because he'd kissed your skin "Afraid she'd interfere with my relationship in some way" Jay whispered, sliding his arms around your waist so that his hands could take that spot. His fingers lightly squeezed the spot as he let all the air out of his lungs, raising his head and finally facing your gaze "I was afraid she'd manage to take you away from me because…"
The intensity in your gaze and your slightly accelerated breathing indicated that you were waiting for the answer. And Jay knew it. He knew you wanted to hear it as much as he wanted to say it.
"Because I'm in love with you, y/n. And I think that finally, after finding something good in my life, I was afraid that it would ruin everything."
"Say it again" you insisted.
"What? That I'm scared?" Jay asked confused.
"That you're in love with me, idiot" you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him.
Jay moved a little closer, distributing slow kisses all over your face until he finally reached your lips.
"Me, Park Jongseong, I'm in love with you, y/n."
Your shrug was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, accompanied by a low chuckle as you slowly kissed his lips.
"Me, y/n, I'm in love with you too, Park Jongseong" you whispered against his lips, laughing even harder when he seemed to relax his whole body and drop the weight from his shoulders.
"That's so nice to hear" he said before kissing you for real.
With intensity, tongues intertwined and hands where they could hold each other. Without too much fuss because they were in the break room at the police station, and because Jay had the impression that the kiss would be interrupted at some point. He just didn't want to be so sure when he heard the door open, forcing him to separate from you quickly.
"Oh, you two are in there… Kissing" Jake shouted the last part as if he needed to say it and it was code for something.
Maybe it was, considering that Heeseung appeared soon after, along with Sunoo and Stella at the door of the room.
"Kissing means you two aren't fighting, right?" Sunoo asked. Jay looked at you and, with a mutual nod, you both agreed.
"So does that mean we can go out and celebrate y/n's suspension?" Jake hummed.
Jay gave you one more quick kiss on the lips before pulling away, putting his hands on your waist, and looking at his friends.
"Stella, are you wearing your holster?" he asked, putting his hands on his waist.
"Yes, I am" she pointed to the accessory, showing the gun stored there too.
"How many bullets do you have?"
"I think I have five left" she replied, unable to contain her laughter when Jay said it.
"Perfect, I only need three!"
"Baby…" Heeseung whined to Stella as he was the first to run, followed by Sunoo who was screaming along with Jake.
Jay passed the girl at the door without even touching the gun, only to scare them off as he ran after his friends.
"Come on, we're having dinner at the Japanese restaurant tonight" she said to you after she waited for you to approach, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you left the restroom.
For so long, neither you nor Jay thought you could find happiness inside that police station. Jay, for obvious reasons. You, for never having experienced it.
But just like work, everyday life wasn't planned at all and sometimes unforeseen events arose. Cases arriving on your desk in the middle of the day, or two or three suspects you hadn't paid attention to. Even someone with a gun in an operation that Jay was taking part in.
Or, on top of that, an unexpected love interest in the department next door.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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c-nstantine · 6 months
Text
sense of normalcy
description: Jason & Black!Batmom in four stages of his life
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, death, mommy issues, grieving, talks about Jason's death a lot
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Jason: Age 12
Bruce had warned Alfred that there would be a guest joining him and of course, Alfred told Y/N. She was more than excited to have someone visiting the manor. It had been lonely since Dick struck out on his own. He visited but it wasn't the same as having a kid running around the manor. 
"Who might you be?" Y/N said approaching the boy who Bruce helped out of the Batmobile. He was rather lean for his height but his eyes looked like they sparkled as if the world never did him wrong. Y/N felt a pang in her heart and she looked towards Bruce who avoided her gaze.
"Jason Todd. You're on TV." He recognized the woman from the TVs that were on display in the stores that he passed as he walked down the street. Alfred had rushed back upstairs to fix the young boy something to eat.
"Sometimes, how would you like to stay with Bruce and me?" She had already decided that he would stay. She couldn't let the boy go back to whatever back alley Bruce found him on. 
"I'd love to," The boy's eyes twinkled once more as he smiled at Y/N.
Jason: Age 16
Jason was a good kid. He promised Y/N that he would be a good kid. He got good grades, and he excelled at English. Entering his teenage years, he only grew closer and more protective of Y/N but Y/N still saw him as the lean little boy who tried to steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. 
"Why is my son here?" Y/N asked, not even bothering to sit in the principal's chair. Her son had not a scratch on his face but he did have a bruised knuckle that definitely wasn't from patrol.
"He got into a fight, Mrs. Wayne," The principal of Gotham Academy said a bit smugly. Jason hated it here. He loved the teachers and learning but the kids were assholes. Not all of them, but the ones who thought he didn't belong because he wasn't born to the money. Kids could be cruel.
"Jason?" Y/N tilted her head towards her son, softening her gaze.
"He was making fun of me for being adopted and my accent," Jason spoke differently than the preppy kids of Gotham Academy but Y/N always encouraged him to speak how he wanted. His words were a part of him and he shouldn't have to change it for anyone.
"So my son was being bullied and he defended himself. Does that sound good to you, Principal Paulette?" Y/N gave the fakest smile known to the man while brushing faux loc behind her ear. 
"It sounds perfect, Mrs. Wayne," Principal Paulette simply groaned. 
"C'mon, Jason. We're getting ice cream." She smiled and waved for her son to follow her out of the office.
-
"Bruce is gonna be upset you're rewarding me," Jason said mixing his bowl of scooped chocolate chip ice cream together until it became the consistency of soft serve. He couldn't meet her eye yet. He felt like he had disappointed her and that maybe she regretted keeping him. What he didn't know is that he could never do anything that would make her not love him.
"You know I'll always love you, right? No matter what those kids say," Y/N said reaching over the table to ruffle his hair. He styled every morning with an absurd amount of gel but it didn't look like him.
"I know, ma, I know," He heard the words and wanted to believe them but he already decided that he'd leave and find his real mother. In his mind, she wouldn't miss him anyway, right?
"Good 'cause you my baby boy," She said with a bright smile.
-
He was in pain and cold. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. The faint beeping of the bombs was heard in the background and tears fell from his eyes as he realized this was his end. This was it. He was gonna meet the great big man in the sky and he didn't get to say goodbye to Y/N. He could die with disappointing Bruce but Y/N. Y/N had never seen him as more than a boy because that's what he was. He was just a child who didn't get to say goodbye to his mom. 
Jason: Deceased
Y/N was pacing a hole in the carpet. She stood in the study of Wayne Manor waiting here something, anything, back from Bruce. He hadn't contacted her since he left to find Jason and that was days ago.
"You said he'd come back," She said as Bruce walked through the grandfather clock entrance of the study. She noticed there was no Jason, she could hear his laughter like he normally did when he returned from a night out.
"Y/N," Bruce could see his wife about cry right in front of them. She tried to blink away tears so that they wouldn't fall down her brown cheeks. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping with Jason missing.
"You went to go get him. Where is he?" Y/N asked again with a bit more authority. 
"Honey, sit down. Alfred, bring her some tea," Bruce was trying to put the words together but Y/N simply fell apart on the couch. 
"No, don't tell me that, "She knew exactly what that meant, "He was just a baby," She whispered as Bruce held her in his arms. 
Jason: Age 22
"Ma?" Jason called for her as she was putting Martha and Alfred down for a nap. Y/N walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her. His mom had aged a little since she took him home but not too much. Sure she had grey hairs mixed into her silk press but she was still the exact same woman who loved him at first sight.
"Yeah, Jason," She looked up at her son with a bright smile. Jason now towered her but he'd always be her baby boy. 
"I'm sorry," Jason said quickly. He had been holding it in since he died. He never told anyone but in the last moments before his death, he regretted not telling Y/N he loved her more and how much he'd miss her.
"What are you sorry for?" Y/N asked tilting her head slightly. 
"I'm sorry for leaving that night. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you," Jason's voice cracked as he moved to hug his mom. He didn't know how much pain one decision could cause.
"Oh, baby," She said rubbing his back. She felt tears coming to her eyes as she felt his on her cheek. 
"I'm sorry, ma, I'm so sorry," He muttered over and over again. His face had flushed red against her brown skin. Bruce had seen the moment but decided it was best for him not to interfere but he was happy to see Jason working through his emotions.
"You're here now and that's all I've ever wanted, okay? How about some ice cream?" Y/N said pulling away gently. Ice cream was one of her biggest pregnancy cravings so now they have a lifetime of Bluebell in their deep freezer.
"Yeah, ma," Jason spoke with a small smile. He was finally back to a sense of normalcy. 
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Insecurities
Pairing: Husband!Charles x Wife!Reader
Rating: Pg-17
Warnings: Angst, Misunderstanding trope, parental anxiety, fear of child loss, talks of divorce, good ending
Requested: Yes/No
Request: hey can you do something with charles where the reader and he had a baby a few months ago and she is super insecure with her body, thinking that he is no longer attracted to her, there may be some misunderstanding in which she interprets the wrong things and draws these conclusions
Part One: It's Too Early
A/N: Made this Pt.2 to It’s Too Early
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It's not supposed to be easy being a parent; being a parent is giving up this part of your life and becoming this whole new person, whose in charge of this little life. It petrified you beyond belief. Pierre was born at 26 weeks old. While you never told anyone, you were worried something would go wrong, and he'd be taken from you.
You were nervous and terrified to hold your son, afraid you'd hurt him somehow, not even meaning to. Charles....god, Charles was perfect. He took everything thrown at him and acted like it never affected him, he was excellent with Pierre, and some of you hated it. Why couldn't you be natural like your husband?
Charles was patient with you, but you could tell his patience was wearing thin but he wasn't home 24/7. Of course, he'd be happy to wake up in the middle of the night to soothe his crying son. He wants to do everything while he's there. But you were always there, and it wasn't helping you. It was breaking you down; you loved your son unconditionally, but a small part of you that went through all those negative tests you were terrified that if you got too close, the universe would play some cruel joke and take him away.
Charles could see how being home always with Pierre dragged you down and how you've changed; you even refuse his touch. That's what hurt him more. You didn't want to be intimate anymore, he knew it took a while for a woman to heal after giving birth, but he wasn't going to push it and started to provide you with space. You didn't want space; you just couldn't figure out how to talk to Charles about all your insecurities.
"Baby, let's go out for dinner tonight; Pierre can watch the baby, and we can....talk," Charles says, stepping back from you when you step near him.
You feel your chest grow tight with the rejection from your husband; he hasn't touched you since Pierre was born, and you know it was because your body was no longer its usual self. You nod your head in agreement and walk to your shared bedroom, thinking about what you should wear, but everything is either too form-fitting or shows off too much skin, and you can't even feel comfortable in your own skin. Why would you show it off?
You shower and try hard to make yourself somewhat.....sexy, trying hard to get your husband's attention back. You walk down the hall wearing only a robe since you need to breastfeed Pierre before you leave, but you freeze, hearing Charles's voice talking to someone on the phone.
"Nothing is where it is anymore; is that normal?" He asks the person, and you freeze, looking down at your chest. You knew that breastfeeding would change your breasts, but you didn't think that Charles would care so much about it enough to talk to someone over the phone about it.
"Yeah....but why can't it go back to normal? It's such a turnoff." He groans. Hearing that, you swallow back the tears and shake your head; walking into view, Charles turns and smiles at you brightly, acting like he is happy to see you. It was a slap to the face to see him putting on such an act when he was talking about you in such a way.
Picking up Pierre, you take him to his nursery, confusing Charles. You loved feeding Pierre in that little den corner, where the sun hit perfectly, and you could watch the sea and people below. He took a picture one day of you two together. It was the 2nd day home, and that's been his wallpaper for about 4 months. He loved that picture and used it to show this perfect family to fans and others.
The doorbell rings, and you come out wearing a loose dress that covers you but is still pretty; it is a gorgeous light purple color, and Charles wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but he knew you didn't want to be touched. Pierre comes through the door with a bunch of presents, making you laugh, and without thinking, you hug adult Pierre, causing Charles to stutter in his steps. His wife, who rejects his touches, is happier to touch someone else than him? He didn't know what to do.
"We should get going," Charles grumbles, patting his buddy on the back, who nods at him, and you list everything off, and how you pumped, and there was breastmilk in the fridge if he gets hungry. Pierre finally has to shove you out the door, Charles and you standing outside your home like you were strangers to one another. People who didn't even know each other or how to talk, you're married and have a baby together. Why would it be this way?
Walking to the restaurant, you keep your hands busy with your handbag, which would typically be wrapped in Charles's hands. But he kept his in the pockets of his suit jacket, both silent as you walked to the restaurant. You feel your breath leave when you come face to face with Brasserie du Cafe de Paris Monte-Carlo.
It was your first date, your first anniversary, where he proposed to you, and you had dinner as a married couple. Jesus Christ, you went here after discovering you were pregnant to celebrate. Was this another slap to your face? To shove how much you and your body have changed since you gave birth if it was, Charles was much crueler than you ever thought possible.
"Ahhh, Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, seeing you back after the baby is a pleasure. How is the little one?" The head waiter asks, having seen your family grow right before his eyes. You both were perfect and an actual image of true love to him. But tonight, the couple in front of him was not the one he was used to; instead, it was almost like shells of the couple.
"He's doing wonderful, Benoit. Thank you for asking." You smile as he leads you to your favorite seat. It was the one overlooking the famous Monte Carlo casino, you loved this view, and Charles saw your old smile. He swore he could see the old memories playing across your eyes.
"Well, please enjoy," Benoit says, laying down the two menus and walking off but keeping a close eye on his favorite couple.
"I wouldn't drink wine." Charles cuts, making you look up, confusion on your face, and he clears his throat.
"You're still breastfeeding. Alcohol isn't wise while still doing it." He states, trying to start a conversation, but all it does is drive the knife deeper into your heart. Just another way for him to show off how he was a better parent than you.
You just hum in agreement, and Charles curses himself, knowing he just made things worse while trying to talk to you, his wife, the woman he loves more than life itself, and he can't even do that. You both order and sip on water while Charles sips on some old expensive liquor.
"Do you want a divorce?" You don't know why you blurted it out, but you did. Charles sucks his drink down and chokes on it. A sputter of coughs leaves his mouth while gently hitting his chest, trying to regulate his breaths.
"What?" He snarls, furious beyond means that you would even ask that.
"Do you want a divorce? Because clearly, you don't want me anymore." You lean back in your seat, refusing to even look at him.
"You ask me if I want a divorce, and you can't even look at me? Y/n." He hisses, anger and being scared shitless getting the best of him.
You turn and look at him, and his anger dies. Your eyes gave everything away, the hurt, sadness, rejections, everything was right there in front of him, but he was too wrapped up to notice how much you are hurting.
"Baby, Y/n. What's going on? You don't talk to me anymore or let me touch you, but you can touch other men. I have been patient with you; I know healing after birth takes a while, but....you just feel apart, and I'm trying hard to be strong for you, but I can't help you if we don't talk." He whispers, not wanting people to hear you.
"Am I a horrible mother? I ask myself that question all the time. Wanna know why? Because when I'm next to you or you tell me something, I feel like I'm a failure. I'm terrified that if I get too close to our gorgeous baby, the universe will just take him away, and I wake up every morning dreading the day it happens. What then, Charles?" Your throat tightens, trying hard not to cry in front of all these people.
Charles stares at you in shock before grabbing his drink and swallowing it now.
"Listen to me," He pleads and leans forward. "You...there is no one else in this entire world, fucking universe I would want to be Pierre's mother. You fought day and night to get him here, and he is. He's healthy and happy, and fuck, the way he looks at you like you're his whole world, is because you are. You're his mother; he loves you, feels protected by you, and craves to be near you. I know this because I have felt that same way every day since I met you. I married you and created a life with you because no one else could do it, and I would kill anyone who ever thought about taking you or Pierre away from me, Y/n." He whispers, tears forming in his eyes.
"You say all this but refuse to touch me, and I heard you earlier on the phone talking about how nothing is where it is anymore and how it's such a turnoff." You choke out, dabbing your eyes as the waiter brings you your food.
"Wha-" Charles clears his throat and looks at the waiter. "Thank you." The waiter scurries off, sensing the tension between you two. "Y/n, I was talking about my new steering wheel for the car." He explains, and you can't help the laughter that escapes your lips.
"What? Your damn steering wheel?" You curse, laughter getting louder while Charles rubs his temples.
"Yes, they moved all the buttons to different places. I was talking to one of the engineers. Putain." He curses, shaking his head.
"Then why won't....why won't you touch me anymore?' You whisper, cutting into your steak, mouth watering at the smell of spices and butter.
"You wouldn't touch me; I figured you didn't want to be.....intimate with you recovering, so this entire time, have we had one big misunderstanding?" He asks, cutting into his Lobster Bisque. You reflect on all your interactions and groan, nodding your head and making Charles chuckle.
"If being a parent was easy, love, the world would be perfect. It's not easy, and you know what? I want us to promise something." He bites into his food and nods at how it melts in his mouth, and you can't help but giggle at how he does that whenever he eats something he loves. He even did it to you for the first time; he went down on you. Still does.
"What's that, Char?" You ask, moving your free hand to grab his, and he smiles, lifting up and kissing your fingers.
"Once a month or whenever we feel we misunderstand each other, we breathe, sit, and talk. We can't keep this up. We have Pierre now, and maybe some...more in the future. We need to stay strong." Charles mumbles, kissing your wedding ring and then the palm of your hand.
"Char." You whisper, making your husband stare up at you, his thick lashes covering half of his eyes, giving those eyes that would make any woman naked.
"Check, please!" Charles yells, making you laugh and lean over, kissing him gently.
"Always be there for me?" You ask; glad to have this man in your life.
"Always." He whispers, unable to wait for the rest of his life with you.
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aliensupastar · 1 year
Text
not wrong, but not right
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Rating: Mature
Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.
Part II Part III
Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?
A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3
All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 
Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 
You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 
“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.
“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 
You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 
Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 
“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”
“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 
Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 
When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.
It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 
You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 
Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 
Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 
When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 
“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 
“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 
“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 
“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”
You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 
“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 
“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.
It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 
You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 
When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 
You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 
Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 
“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 
The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 
Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.
You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 
You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 
“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 
“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.
“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 
“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.
“Because-“ 
“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 
You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 
“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  
“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 
You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 
“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 
“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.
“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 
“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 
He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 
“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 
He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 
“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 
“Thank you.” You whisper. 
“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 
You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 
“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 
“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 
“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 
“I’m okay with that.”
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kykyonthemoon · 3 months
Note
If it’s not too much, could I ask for the Love and Deepspace boys who accidentally hurt the (if you could gn) reader’s feelings? (They argued and they were wrong but lashed out either way sorta thing?) if not, completely understandable! Tysm!
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The Hurts
Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.
🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x Reader Tags: gn!reader, hurt/ comfort, angst A/N: I can't see our LIs to be the type to lash out at their loved ones, so I modify the request a bit. Thank you for requesting, anon-san. Hope you enjoy this story.
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.
You had given him so many chances, and what you got in return was being hurt over and over again.
Like sitting on a never-ending roller coaster, that's the feeling when you were with him.
He made you happy, he made you sad. He gave you surprises and he also shattered many of your dreams.
Then, you had enough.
You trudged back home with heavy steps after a difficult mission. Blood drenched your uniform. The blood of Wanderers, and the blood of your comrades. The mission was a complete failure. There were a lot of people injured, and it was completely your fault.
Because you trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted.
Rafayel was standing on an empty street corner, waiting for you. He knew you would always take the same route home. You were too predictable, that was why he played with you like a toy.
You grit your teeth. You and Rafayel each held one end of the rubber band. But he was always the first to let go.
It hurt, the feeling of being betrayed hurt so much. But you still kept walking. You did not want him to see you miserable like that. You would not give him the opportunity to trample on your feelings and trust anymore.
Rafayel's dark eyes gazed at you. You saw scales sprouting out from his face and neck. That was the day when Lemurians were at their weakest.
Nevertheless, he made the decision to stand here and wait for you to come home. As soon as he had heard the news from his spies, he immediately ran to find you even though he was in his weakest state. You stopped moving when you were just close enough away from him, to look straight into his eyes with full of indignation.
“I will explain everything.” Rafayel spoke up. And he should, but you were sick of it by now.
“That's enough, Rafayel.” You cut him off before he could say anything else. “You've said enough.”
You trusted his intelligence, only to lead your comrades into a trap. He always took advantage of your absolute trust to hurt you and the people you cared about. Especially when there was something related to the Lemurians, he suddenly became a different person. Someone you did not know.
“Your secrets…” You said, “Just keep them to yourself… I think I've had enough of your lies.”
"I did not lie." Rafayel reached out towards you but you backed away. “Everything I told you about that operation was true. I simply…”
“You simply didn't tell me the whole truth.” You said bitterly.
Rafayel withdrew his hand. He appeared so frail that he may pass out at any time at the side of the road. This time, you would not care as much. You would just leave him be.
“You showed concern for me, then you left me alone. You helped me, then pushed me into a trap... What is real, Rafayel? What is the truth that ever comes out of your mouth?”
Rafayel was silent, staring at you with pain. What an excellent performance. You almost believed him, one more time.
“What are you going to do, then? You could kill me with just one blow right now.”
“Don't challenge me.” You threatened with a glare. You hurried past Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to get home and clean off all the blood on your body and calm yourself down. Yet, despite his extreme weakness, he still has the ability to draw you in. Your eyes met his sadness. In an instant, it seemed as though you had descended to the ocean's lowest point.
“You asked me what was true.” He said, his voice shaking. “You may not believe anything else I say… But this, this alone is the truth… I will never, ever let anyone hurt you… I will never lose you again…”
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
You stood in front of Xavier's house waiting impatiently. As soon as the door opened, you immediately rushed inside without even saying hello.
“Is there anything wrong?” Xavier asked gently, but his innocent look made you even more angry.
“You crossed me out of that mission, didn’t you?” You replied in anger. There were several rolled-up reports in your palm, ready to be torn apart. You aimed it in his direction. “This was originally the mission assigned to me! Why did you request to do it on your own?”
Xavier saw the problem as soon as he glanced at those papers. He tried to explain:
“That mission is too dangerous. I can't let you do it by yourself.”
“Then would it be better if you went alone?”
You gave Xavier a glance. He was trying to calm you down, but every step he took closer you moved further away. You were upset because he decided to enter a risky area without you, maybe endangering his life, and you were unaware of it until everything had been taken care of. Even with you by his side, he carried the weight of everything by himself. You did not want that, because you felt compelled to share everything with him.
"I'm sorry." Xavier was honest with you. “I should have asked you first. I decided on my own because I thought it was the best thing for you.”
“What's best for me?” You retorted. “Do you even know what is good for me? To participate in my own mission, to decide to do things as I wish, or to fight by your side!”
Only silence covered the room. You collapsed into his couch, burrowing your face into your hands. You hated this feeling of helplessness. He took away your right to make decisions, your right to accompany him on this dangerous mission. The thought that he did not need you was so painful.
“You don't believe in me…” You spoke up after a long while. When you looked up, you saw that Xavier was still standing there, looking regretful and helpless because he was unable to touch you at the time. “I thought we were a team. If we're a team, we won't hide missions from each other, we won't sneak around alone behind the other person's back..."
“I'm really sorry. That mission is much more dangerous than area N109. I can't let you risk it.”
“That means if you had to choose again, you would still do the same and hide it from me, right?”
Xavier remained silent, but you already knew the answer.
You did not know what hurt more; Xavier hiding that mission from you, or he not trusting you could complete it?
You got to your feet, looked at Xavier, and proceeded to the door.
"I truly put in a lot of training to be in a team with you. But maybe that's not enough. If you think you can do it all by yourself then so be it, I don't see the need to stay here anymore.”
"Don't." Xavier seized your hand fast to hold you there. “Don't say such things…”
You drew away from him fiercely. Xavier let out a cry and embraced his left chest at that very time.
It appeared like he was hurt. You scowled and extended a hand to touch him.
“Are you injured?”
Xavier tried to smile, but his face gradually turned pale. He took that opportunity to pull you back and wrap an arm around your waist to keep you in place.
“It's only a little cut.”
“How can it be small when you look so painful?”
Xavier struggled to breathe. He replied:
"I'm sorry. Maybe it's true that I couldn't do that task alone. You were right. We are a team, I need you.”
You feel pleased, but still very angry with Xavier. It was because he chose to go alone that he got injured like that.
“From now on, I will definitely not hide anything from you anymore. So… don't leave me alone, okay?”
You were silent for a while, but wrapped your arms around Xavier to hug him. “I have to check your wound first.”
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
The more you care for someone else, the deeper the wound they cause you.
It had been a month since you could contact him. Just like that, he disappeared, again.
You were frightened. Just like when you were a child, suddenly one day, the friend who used to make snow seals for you disappeared without a trace. No one could hear about him. He had also covertly assigned your monthly health check to another physician without you knowing until you got to the hospital. The last time you had heard about him was when Dr. Greyson told you he were rushing off to the Arctic on urgent business.
How funny it was to learn that from someone other than him. No farewells, no assurances not to worry. And for an entire month, he was absent. Although you didn't have the authority to make him tell you his schedules, at least you wanted to know how long he was going to be gone and whether or not the mission was risky.
You grew more afraid and then angered as you considered him going missing once more. How could he do this to you, after everything you had been through together? Yet he dared to show his face to your house on a rainy night.
When he saw that you were covering yourself from the rain with your jacket, he moved forward to shield you. But you dashed over to the porch. You just looked at him from a distance, but near enough to see that he was alright. After that, you entered and slammed the door in his face.
Not a word was said to each other. He did not even call your name or send a text message. He stood in the pouring rain for a long, long time. You couldn't care less. That night you went to sleep fitfully, and when you woke up the next morning, your auntie neighbor told you that he had just departed a short while after your room's light went out.
You did not try to contact him again. This cold war was initiated by him, so let it be. It was now a week after his return, and you had to go to the hospital for a check-up before an important mission. When you saw the name of the physician assigned to you was Zayne, you requested for another.
Dr. Greyson found you in the waiting area. He asked about your refusal to let Zayne examine your health. Honestly, you could not find any reason to answer that wasn't too personal. So you just sat in silence.
“The first thing Zayne did when he got back was to read your files. He wanted to make sure you were fine while he was gone.”
Dr. Greyson said. You lowered your head and looked down at your clasped hands, experiencing a range of conflicting feelings.
“I don't know what happened between you two, and maybe it's none of my business, but Zayne is a friend, and I need to butt in just this once…”
You looked up at Dr. Greyson.
“Zayne went to the Arctic to seek assistance from his teacher. Things got worse as it became more and more difficult for him to control his Evol. I caught him injuring himself with his Evol. He made the decision to suffer alone until things got in control in order to protect others.”
You were shocked. Zayne had been suffering because of his Evol for the past month without you knowing, while you were blaming him for leaving you.
"Perhaps he refrained from telling you out of concern that you would worry and accompany him there."
The rest of the conversation drifted away. Then you stood up, tried to hold back your tears as you walked to Zayne's office. He sat behind the computer screen, looking up at you with mixed emotions in his eyes, although his face still remained calm.
You entered slowly, noted the scars on his hands. There were fresh cuts that were not yet healed. He must have been very hurt and lonely. What must you do to make him open up to you? What must you do so that you can share the burden with him?
“You… What's wrong?”
As soon as Zayne spoke, you hid your tears by walking towards him in a haste and pulled him into your embrace.
“Please don't go without a word... I won't be able to bear it if you disappear again..."
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chvoswxtch · 1 year
Note
Could you do something with Frank where his s/o is just trying to comfort/take care of Frank after a mission and he just snaps at them? His s/o was having a really rough week and wanted to make themselves feel better by taking care of Frank. S/o leaves and turns off their phone to be away from him for a bit and he panics after he realizes what he did? Ending in fluff of course be my heart can’t handle sad endings 😂
Ps. Absolutely love your writing
thank you so much for the request nonnie! you know I love some good angst. but, as requested, I did give this a nice ending for you. a bit of a...flirty ending if you will. 😏
warning: swearing, lots of angst, slight mentions of blood and violence, allusions to spiciness word count: 3.4k
[part two]
really bad week.
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Frank let out a heavy exhale as he shut off the scalding hot water in the shower, watching through hooded lids as translucent streams of red disappeared down the drain. He was exhausted, completely overstimulated, and there wasn’t a muscle in his body that didn’t ache. 
The job had been harder than he’d planned for. The information he was given was bad, and he didn’t realize it until it was too late. Frank knew how to think quickly on his feet, he’d been trained to do that, and he normally excelled at it, but it didn’t stop the rage he felt towards his ignorant informant. The anger was like poison in his bloodstream, spreading further throughout him with every injury and minor inconvenience, and it followed him home. 
It wasn’t until he stepped into your shared bedroom with a towel draped low across his hips that he realized how quiet the house was. Frank stilled, ears perking up as he listened for a sign of your presence. You were there to greet him the second he got home, and you normally either joined him for a shower or waited with a first aid kid to tend to his wounds. 
But Frank didn’t hear the patter of your feet on the hardwood floor coming to him.
“Baby?”
Silence. 
Frank quickly dropped his towel and slipped on a pair of boxers, swiftly making his way down the hallway towards the living room. His dark eyes darted back and forth around the space before his feet carried him into the kitchen where you normally waited. 
But you weren’t there.
Frank made his way back into the living room, instantly going rigid when he noticed your keys were still on the entry table. Pulling back the curtain, he swore under his breath seeing that your car was still in the driveway. Rushing towards the bedroom to grab the pistol he kept in his nightstand, he grabbed his phone and furiously dialed your number. 
He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, checking the clip and cocking the hammer of the gun as he made his way around your home, checking every room carefully. The endless ringing coming through the line filled him with dread.
“C’mon baby, pick up. Pick up.”
The sound of your chipper voicemail had Frank swearing again, tossing his phone onto the bed as he dialed your number again and put it on speaker so he could get dressed. 
“Pick up the goddamn phone, Y/N.”
Frank nearly kicked the door to the bathroom off the hinges when he got your voicemail again. Where the fuck did you go? Why did you take off without saying anything? You never did that. You always told Frank when you were leaving, even if you were just stepping outside to check the mail. You knew how important it was for him to know where you were at all times.
Had he missed something when he came home? Did you say something to him about leaving? But where would you go without your car? Why would you-
Frank abruptly paused his incandescent pacing as realization spread like ice through his bones, completely freezing him in place. 
“Fuck.”
You had opened the door to greet Frank before he even made it to the front steps, your soft hands delicately searching Frank’s face and torso for injuries, gently trying to coax him out of his clothes, offering nothing but pure kindness and compassion to help in any way you could.
You just wanted to help. You always just wanted to help. As guilty as it made him feel to come home to you bloody and broken, you always swore that you didn’t mind putting him back together. You promised that you loved taking care of him. You assured him that it wasn’t a hindrance, but that it gave you peace of mind, because you knew no one would take care of him like you would, especially not himself. You even confessed to him that it made you feel better to do it.
“You always take such good care of me, Frankie. You’re always protecting me. I can’t protect you back, but I can take care of you. Being your healer gives me a sense of purpose. It makes all the noise fade away. It makes me happy, baby.”
You just wanted to help him, and he’d been a fucking dick. 
He snapped at you. 
He yelled at you. 
And when he closed his eyes, he saw the fear in yours, and it made him shudder. 
Frank helplessly dialed your number again, rushing to the living room to grab the keys to his truck, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans as he went into full blown panic mode.
“Fuck, sweetheart. C’mon, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone for me honey, please.”
Frank never meant to raise his voice at you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him in front of you. You didn’t deserve the way he had treated you. All you were trying to do was help, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He was completely depleted physically, impossibly frustrated, and his entire body throbbed with pain. 
But that wasn’t an excuse for him to snap at you like he had. 
“Would you fuckin’ quit? Goddamn, I been home two seconds and you’re already up my ass. Just fuckin’ back off. I don’t need you followin’ me around, bein’ all fuckin’ needy and shit. I can take care of myself, I don’t need you. Stop bein’ a pain in my goddamn ass and just let me fuckin’ be.”
Frank slammed the door to his truck shut as he forced his key into the ignition, clenching his jaw tightly and flaring his nostrils angrily as he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror.
“You’re one sorry son of a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Fuckin’ asshole.”
Frank recklessly backed out of the driveway and peeled off down the road, nearly breaking his phone screen as he harshly pressed his thumb against your contact again. But this time when he dialed, it went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck!”
Frank sent his phone flying into the dashboard as he gripped his steering wheel with one hand, dragging his other palm down his face and quickly running it through his still damp hair as he tried to focus. You didn’t take your car, so you had to be on foot, which meant you couldn’t have gone far. But where would you go?
He drove around your neighborhood for nearly an hour, eyes frantically darting around the road and both sides of the street with the windows down. Every second that passed that he couldn’t find you filled him with more and more trepidation to the point where he felt nauseous. His hands shook despite the tight grip on his steering wheel, but he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or from fear.
What if he had fucked up too bad? What if he couldn’t fix this? What if he came home and you were gone for good?
Frank swallowed the lump forming in his throat as the image of your terrified face flashed in his brain again. He never wanted you to look at him like that. He never wanted you to be afraid of him. He felt absolutely sick with guilt that he had scared you so badly that you had run. When Frank drove by the park at the end of the street for the twenty-seventh time, he quickly hit the brakes and put his truck in park. You had brought him to this park a few times before to have a picnic. You liked to watch the kids play, and see all the pretty flowers when they started to bloom. Frank quietly shut his truck door and pocketed his keys as he walked over towards the playground, and he immediately stilled once he saw a shadow on a swing illuminated by the moonlight.
You.
Your back was to him as you sat on the swing, leaning your head against the set of chains that your hands were loosely wrapped around. Frank normally would’ve smiled at the fact that your feet didn’t even reach the ground, but right now it just broke his heart, because it reminded him of how small and delicate you were. He approached you cautiously, and the closer he got, the more he was able to see the gentle shake of your shoulders and hear your quiet sniffles, and his heart shattered all over again.
“Baby?”
Your spine instantly stiffened as his voice cut through the silence of the night. You never reacted to him that way. Even when he surprised you by entering a room without a word when you were too distracted to hear the heavy thud of his boots, you never jumped or got startled, because you knew it was just him. You were never afraid of his presence.
Until now.
When you didn’t respond, Frank slowly made his way around to the front of the swings, keeping a good distance between you and himself so that he didn’t frighten you anymore than he had. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood above you. Your head was tilted downwards, and your hair covered your face like a curtain. He was momentarily grateful that he couldn’t see the look on your face. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it.
“Sweetheart?”
Silence.
Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do; rush forward and pick you up into his arms, hug your head against his chest, kiss your forehead and run his fingers through your hair as he apologized over and over. He just wanted to fix it and make it better. But he wasn’t sure if you even wanted him to touch you right now, and that hurt worse than a bullet to the skull.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Frank took a few more cautious steps forward and knelt down in front of you, still trying to keep enough space between you both to make you more comfortable.
“Honey…I’m…I’m sorry. I’m real fuckin’ sorry. I didn’t mean to-I shoulda never raised my voice at you like that. I didn’t mean to, baby. I swear.”
Nothing.
Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he fought back tears that threatened to build along his waterline. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to keep his voice calm and even as he pleaded with you.
“Y/N…please talk to me. Please, baby. Just…say somethin’. Yell at me, hit me, hell take this fuckin’ gun and empty the clip right in my fuckin’ chest. Just…somethin’.”
“I’m not gonna do that, Frank.”
Your voice was barely above a whisper as it hit his ears, and Frank hated how small and broken it sounded. He watched as you lifted your head slightly, tucking your hair behind your ears as you sniffled, still refusing to look at him. 
Frank thought he’d had his heart broken before, but that was nothing compared to seeing the pain on your face beneath the glow of the moon. He nearly broke down in tears seeing your puffy eyes and reddened nose, and the lingering hurt that was carved into every feature on your face.
“Baby-”
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
“What? What are you talkin’ about?”
Frank’s dark brows knit together in utter confusion at your apology, cocking his head to the side in complete disbelief.
“I just wanted to help. But…you’re right. I need…I need to back off. I…it’s too much. I’m too much-”
“Hey, stop it. That is not true-”
“Yes it is, Frank. You said it yourself.”
Even though your voice was more firm with anger behind it, there was no denying the ache that dripped from your words. Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he let out a heavy exhale through his nose, quickly shaking his head in rejection.
“I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean a goddamn word I said earlier. Alright?”
“Frank-”
Frank moved closer on his knees toward you, shaking his head quickly as he stared into your teary eyes.
“I didn’t. I swear…on Maria and the kids. I was…I was in a bad mood when I came home. I was frustrated, and I was hurtin’, and I took all that out on you, and that wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, you understand me? Nothin’. I was not upset with you. I do not think any of that. I…I lost my temper, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to apologize hard enough, and I’ll never forgive myself for scarin’ you like that.”
Frank wanted nothing more than to reach for you when your bottom lip started to tremble. He watched as you lowered your head, toying nervously with the bracelet around your wrist as you refused to look at him.
“You were so mad…”
The fear in your fragile voice would’ve brought Frank to his knees if he wasn’t already on them. He closed his eyes as a remorseful tear slipped down his cheek, swallowing thickly as he tightened his jaw and inhaled sharply.
“I…I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. Please…please tell me you know that.”
“Hurt me? I didn’t think you were going to hurt me, Frank.”
“I scared you-”
“I wasn’t scared of you, Frank. I was scared that you were mad at me. I thought I upset you…and that you didn’t want me there.”
Frank’s eyes flew open as he stared at you incredulously, lips parting as he began to shake his head quickly.
“Didn’t want you there? Baby, why would you say that?”
“Because you said you didn’t need me.”
As fresh tears slipped down your cheeks, Frank moved even closer on his knees until yours were pressed against his chest, fighting to keep his hands by his sides as he shook his head furiously.
“I didn’t mean that. I do need you, honey. I love you. You are the one goddamn good thing I got, and I don’t ever wanna lose you.”
“Promise?”
Frank hated that he had to make that promise to you. He hated that he had fucked up so royally, that you were even questioning it. But he would make that same promise until his lungs gave out if that’s what you needed from him.
“I promise, baby. Please forgive me, honey. That’ll never happen again, I swear.”
“I forgive you, Frankie.”
“Can I touch you, is that alright? Let me hold you, sweetheart. Please.”
Frank sighed in relief when you leaned forward to wrap your arms around him, instantly wrapping you up in his own arms as he held you protectively against his chest. A soft giggle slipped past your lips as you wiggled in his grasp.
“Easy, big guy. You’re crushing me.”
“Shit, sorry baby. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. How did you know I was here?”
Frank cupped your jaw in his large hand as he searched your face, giving a slight shake of his head.
“I didn’t. Been drivin’ ‘round for hours tryin’ to find you, sweetheart. You weren’t answerin’ your phone, and then it started goin’ straight to voicemail. I thought…I was assumin’ the worst.”
A sheepish expression coveted your features as you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously.
“I…turned it off. I’m sorry, Frank-”
“Don’t be. You just…scared the shit out of me, baby. I thought…thought somethin’ happened-you can’t do that to me, Y/N. You can’t just leave like that. You need space, I’ll give it to ya, but you gotta let me know that. I gotta know where you are, sweetheart. I gotta know you’re safe. I…I swear I’ll never snap at you like that again, but you gotta swear to me you’re not gonna run off on me like that again. Please.”
“I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking. I was just…upset and-”
“I know, baby. I know. S’alright. I got you now, yeah?”
Leaning your face into Frank’s palm, you wrapped your hand around his wrist as you stared into his eyes and nodded your head slowly. A sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you swallowed thickly.
“I didn’t mean to run. It’s just…I had a really bad week, and I missed you so much. And you always…just being near you makes me feel better. I thought you were upset with me…and didn’t want me there…and I just…that made me feel even worse-”
A furrow formed between Frank’s brows as he looked at you, lips parting slightly as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs.
“What happened that made it bad?”
“Just…stuff with work.”
“Why didn’t you call me, baby?”
“Because I hate bothering you with my problems when you’re away. It was stupid anyway-”
“Hey, it ain’t stupid if it hurts your feelin’s. And you never bother me, sweetheart. You can call me anytime, no matter what time it is, or what it is. I wanna be there for you as much as you are for me. I can’t stand the thought of you bein’ upset and feelin’ like you can’t come to me. You need me, you call me. You got that?”
Instead of answering, you pushed yourself off the swing so that you could climb onto Frank’s lap, burying your face in his chest as he tightened his arms around your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, gently rocking you from side to side on his lap when you clung to him even tighter.
“I love you, sweetheart. You know that, yeah?”
“I love you, Frankie. I’m sorry-”
“You got nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m the one that’s sorry. Will you let me take you home, baby? Been a week without you, just wanna lay down and hold you. Can I do that?”
Frank slowly rose up off his knees when he heard your muffled yes, keeping both arms wrapped around your waist securely as you locked your legs around his back. As he reached his truck door, you pulled back to stare into his eyes curiously with a tilt of your head.
“Why is there a gun in your jeans?”
“I’m just happy to see ya.”
A light smile appeared on your lips as you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.
“I’m talking about the actual gun.”
“Ouch. Ya’know how to kick a guy when’s down, huh?”
“Frank-”
He cut you off with a gentle kiss as he pushed your back against his driver’s side door, trapping you there between it and his body. Brushing his nose against yours softly when he pulled back, he brought one of his hands up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.
“Told ya, baby. Wasn’t sure what happened at first. Thought I might need it.”
“And what were you planning to do with it?”
“Didn’t get that far. Just knew I had to find you, and wasn’t gonna let anyone get in my way.”
“So, what…you were gonna threaten the whole neighborhood to find me?”
“I’d wage war for you, sweetheart.”
The strength in Frank’s gravely voice and the intensity in his eyes confirmed his words. You knew he wasn’t lying, and it suddenly occurred to you just how far Frank would go to protect you. Gently grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, your lips parted slightly as you stared into his dark brown eyes.
“You’re…probably really…tired-”
“Wide awake, darlin’. You tired?”
Frank held your gaze, and you could see a flame starting to dance in his eyes. You knew that look, and it spread heat throughout your lower half that was trapped by his hips. Giving a slight shake of your head, you lightly fisted the collar of his shirt in your free hand, unable to tear away from the hunger in his eyes.
“Can I take you home, sweetheart? Show you how much I need you?”
“You can take me right here, Frankie.”
A low groan reverbated in his chest and it made you shiver. He leaned in to delicately brush his lips against yours, grabbing onto your hips tightly.
“Hate to wake up the whole neighborhood at this hour.”
“You really care about that right now?”
A sharp gasp fell from your mouth as Frank pushed his hips further against yours, allowing you to feel just how badly he needed you.
“Said hate to, baby. Didn’t say I wasn’t gonna.”
tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042
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jessicqvswrld · 6 months
Text
Unsaid words
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Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya reader
Warnings: slight cussing, angst, childhood friends, unrequited love, miscommunication trope, friends to lovers, one sided pining, she fell first he fell harder, jealous neteyam🤭(uses of y/n)
Synopsis: neteyam doesn’t know how to feel when he finds out his close friend/eye candy is slowly moving on from him and leading to him confessing.
A/N: don’t know how to feel about this one I was kinda high when I finished it lol so we’ll see if that did us justice.. sex education s2 reference.. also not proofread
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For the past few weeks Neteyam has been noticing you haven’t been coming around as much as you used to which was rare since you are consantly around.
Whether it’s too join kiri with the daily tasks you both shared, hunting with neteyam, or just tagging along with loak to whatever mischief he can find. You were always right there.
Your almost convinced that the sully’s are tired of your constant presence so you always remind yourself to not be so nosy and give them their space.
After all, years after trying to get a certain someone’s attention was clearly going nowhere and you were tired of giving signals just for them to always go unnoticed.
Neteyam is a very oblivious Navi but he also has many good qualities to him that is what attracts him the most to you.
His nobility and determination to prove himself worthy amongst the clan, his natural desire to excel at things so he can be reliable clan leader.
His attractive personality was undeniably alluring which kept all young girls in the clan enticed in a trance.
You didn’t know exactly what would catch his attention.
You tried just about everything, to offering him cut up fruits during training, to crafting him armbands with emerald green beads woven in. You felt so foolishly in love with him.
You even tried to outdo all the other girls so that he would surely pick you but he never did.
You were so desperate.
You tried to involve yourself with what he enjoys doing. Hunting, fishing, ikran riding, you name it. Not to mention shamefully embarrassing yourself in the process.
No matter what you do though you feel as though he will always see you as a friend nothing more.
Whereas where neteyam stood was with you completely although he was to nervous to admit it his true feelings.
He was too afraid of you rejecting any idea of a future with him; so he decided to keep his mouth shut for now.
Unbeknownst to your internal frustration.
You eventually gave up trying to give anymore signals, fully convinced that your efforts of interest were depressing at this point. He had many women pining after him anyways you figured he wouldn’t notice.
~time skip~
It was a blissful day as every other and you were waiting for your mother to finish your hair so you can go harvest fruits with kiri and tuk.
When she said something that caught your attention.
“So I’ve been meaning to tell you something ma’ite”
Your look up at her as she continues with her rant.
“Rai’uk’s parents have been asking your father and I if you would want to go on a hunt with him, maybe get to know him a little better?”
It came out more as a question which made you want to immediately say no but you knew that you could only avoid this for so long given that the whole time you were showing interest in neteyam, she was waiting for an opportunity to bring up you finding a mate.
Since neteyam wasn’t taking an interest, you had no choice but to start looking for other suitable mates within the clan.
And in this case you had to oblige this offer.
After another day you suddenly found yourself in Rai’uk’s company.
He was nice to say the least certainly not neteyam but he was tolerable and could hold a conversation for the most part. He is a exceptional warrior in the clan and has great hunting skills.
You did it for you mother really, she wanted you to be more social in a sense to be more willing to find a mate at a early age just like she did with your father.
You don’t know how to feel but you obviously didn’t want to disappoint your family so you just go with the flow.
Mother says, “ you’ll learn to love him.”
During communal dinner you usually sat next to neteyam usually talking to him about his day and trying to scooch yourself close enough to where both of your knees were touching.
But, today he noticed after a few minutes that your usual spot stayed empty and instead kiri came and filled the gap.
His brows furrowed in curiosity as his ears perked up and his eyes wandered to all nearby surroundings trying to spot you.
Until he spotted you with him.
He didn’t know why but the minute he saw you with him his heart began to race.
Why weren’t you sitting with him? Was he why you haven’t been coming around as often? When did you start talking to him? More importantly why didn’t you tell him?
So many questions filled Neteyam’s head to the point he felt it might explode.
His ears twitched and his tail flicked annoyingly behind him to which kiri noticed and followed his gaze.
“Oh yea y/n parents made a new arrangement”
His eyes now darted over to his sister, why wasn’t he made aware of this? When did this happen? If y/n’s parents made this arrangement and she was unhappy with it, why didn’t she show it? Did she like him?
So many thoughts ran circles in his mind before his eyes caught a glimpse of you scooting a bit closer to Rai’uk to where your knees were touching, just like you did with him.
He felt an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach seeing you show the same simple acts with another that was your usual with neteyam.
He always had felt your presence next to him during meals so when he saw you so close to another made him jealous.
The tuft of his tail gently rising, he stared in your direction until loak came to sit down next to him making him snap back into reality.
“What are you looking at bro?”
He pinched his eyes together as if it would help him not see the situation and directs his head towards his little brother.
“Nothing” He exclaims letting out a sigh.
Loak was one to witness how you acted around his brother ever since you all were little. He also took notice of how neteyam was when you were around.
You always coming over for to play with him and his sister but always had lingering eyes for his older brother.
You were the only girl that really hung out with the sully children since childhood, so with that neteyam never ever minded your presence and found himself craving more of your attention the more you guys grew up.
It was obvious that you had such as huge crush on neteyam. So you didn’t know why he just ignored all of your signals unless he only saw you as a friend.
Even loak didn’t know why neteyam wouldn’t want to court you now that you two were older while it was still obvious that you still had feelings for him.
Until loak saw you with Rai’uk, he knew that it was likely that it was not your choice and more of your parents.
But he also couldn’t help himself from rubbing it in because his brother was too much of a skwang to admit his feelings.
“Looks like she’s found someone” he exclaims hands squeezing his shoulders and slowly jolting him forward.
Neteyam lets out a frustrated hiss and harshly swats his hands aways, getting up quickly and walking away leaving both of his siblings dumbfounded.
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Moons past of you spending more time with Rai’uk, and to say neteyam having been jealous would be an understatement.
The way that even when you briefly came to stop by for kiri or loak you didn’t even bother to greet him anymore.
The sudden change in the way you didn’t even bother with him anymore. Like he never even once mattered to you.
It was driving him crazy knowing your attention wasn’t on him anymore. But instead another man.
What did Rai’uk have that he didn’t? He was an exceptional warrior and the youngest to complete his iknimaya at that.
He didn’t know why you were suddenly drawn to him.
But all he knew was he was willing to at least talk about with you, maybe then you will understand that he reciprocated your feelings all along and to forget all about this skwang.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After all day of waiting for training to be done and for his father to give him a opportunity to bail he eventually did with intentions to immediately find you and talk to you.
You had finished all your tasks patiently waiting for your sister to do the same, so you can hand her over to your parents and take off with kiri and loak to go fly.
You hadn’t even noticed neteyam approaching if it weren’t for your sister.
“Watch out the mighty warrior looks like he’s walking with purpose.” She says humorously.
You had stepped aside so you can get out of his way. When you felt his hand pull you back a bit and kept it’s hold on your wrist. “Y/n I have to talk to you”.
He gave a brief description and didn’t really give you enough time to respond before you felt his tug your hand as a sign to follow him.
After a few minutes of just continuous walking you were growing curious and impatient as to why he was taking you so far and for what, he made it seem like it was the most serious thing in the world.
“Just tell me neteyam, is this about kiri?”
“No” he said shortly, if he was being honest he could’ve stopped anytime he wanted but he still trying to figure out how he was gonna spit this out.
He didn’t know how you would react to this now that you obviously now started something with Rai’uk but he just couldn’t keep this from you anymore.
He led you to a secluded spot in the forest, eyes gazing all around the treeline to make sure you were alone before speaking.
His eyes meet the ground as silence fills the air surrounding you and all can be heard is screeching ikrans in the far distance.
“I messed up with you” He looks up at you with his desperate amber eyes.
“What” you innocently say scrunching your eyebrows.
“There’s a time where I thought maybe you liked me….and I liked you back..and I got scared so I didn’t tell you how I felt…. and then you met Rai’uk.”
He felt a familiar tightness in his throat similar to when he gets reprimanded by his father and feels himself wanting to cry. He hated hearing himself say how hurt he was.
“It’s really hard seeing you with him everyday.”
Your don’t even know how to process his words, you find yourself breaking his gaze and looking at the forest floor as if it was suddenly so interesting.
“W-Why are you telling me this now. ”you manage to stutter out not wanting to bare anymore silence. Confusion plastered on your face.
He lets out a deep sigh knowing that his confession was probably soon going to be lead to rejection but he didn’t care. His hand finds a place on your arm gently pushing it back to make you face him.
He scanned your face noticing the sudden change of mood as expected but he was overcome with nervousness.
“Because it’s true.” his hand comes up to the edge of your shoulder.
Your eyes constantly dart all over the ground as your face turns a bit angry and your ears pin back. An evident frown on your face appearing.
You let a few moments of silence pass before he speaks again, “why do you look angry?” His hand leaving your shoulder and going back to wrist.
He frigidly says not aware of the effect of his words on you. You had worked so hard to look past him to forget all about the advances you once had the effort to make.
Why now would he say this? If he would have said this a month prior you would’ve been thrilled that he would have finally noticed you.
But now.
Now that you had taken an interest in someone else for a change and he now says all of this. had you not given him countless chances?
“Because neteyam that- that not fair, I liked you I really liked you I fucking turned myself inside out liking you.” You look everywhere else but at him out of irritation.
“You did like me.” He says softly, eyes widening at confession you made yourself.
You gaze up at him swiftly, “yes of course I did…and now your telling me you felt the same.”
He tripped over his words but managed to find them.
Uh- yea I..was confused.” His heart felt like it was going to break this was worse than what he imagined, in all aspects, he figured you would forget all about Rai’uk and his unimportant advances.
He expected you to fall at his feet like all the other women did in the clan.
But you were very different, very stubborn.
“I made myself get over you neteyam, this would be unfair to Rai’uk.” You shake your head and back up from him.
Neteyam feels utterly crushed that in the time you spend with Rai’uk, you were acting like you’ve known him as long as you did neteyam and it made him jealous beyond belief.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, were you expecting me to forget all about Rai’uk because you finally noticed what’s been obvious for years.”
He doesn’t know how he should answer, he doesn’t have an answer. He just shamefully looks at the ground blinking profusely as to not let the tears fall.
“I should head back” you say wanting to create as much distance as possible. You start to turn around and walk back in the direction you came. His grip on your wrist was still there and lightly tightened keeping you in place.
“Y/N I’m really sorry I made things like this, I just didn’t know how to tell you, and I waited too long.”
You nod your head already wanting to be done with this conversation, “I need to think” was all you managed to quietly say one of your hands coming up to your neck, and rubbing it out of nervousness.
You were conflicted this was the man you wanted all your life, but this was such a inconvenience now another was involved and you had to worry about his feelings as well now.
His grip on you loosened as you walked past him, and into the greenery of the forest. Your mind still freshly thinking of his burden of a confession.
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
The Younger Kind Part 11 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When you realize Bradley still has the dating app on his phone, you start to think he's never going to take you seriously. But then he surprises you in the best way, and it turns out he's a pretty great study partner, too. Meanwhile, Bradley is starting to think the longer he puts off talking to Meredith, the worse things will become.
Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4600 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
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You and Bradley had been texting nonstop. Occasionally he would just check in with you and ask how your day was going. Sometimes he would send you a funny story or a picture of Noah. And then once, when you asked him sweetly, he sent you a dick pic to which you replied with a photo of yourself in the shower.
When he texted you on Tuesday evening asking if you could come over on Wednesday, you immediately agreed. You didn't want to invite yourself over to his house, but you'd been itching to go back and see them. Your boys. 
I'll be there, Daddy. Do you want me to make dinner?
Bradley Bradshaw: I didn't want to ask. I should be a capable adult by now. But HELL YES, Noah and I both want you to make dinner. I'll order some groceries on my phone.
You laughed at his old man tendencies and the fact that they both liked it when you cooked for them. Then you started thinking about what might happen after Noah went to bed for the night. You groaned; you had an exam early on Thursday morning, so you'd need to get a good night's sleep. 
You didn't even know exactly where you and Bradley were at the moment, but you hoped you were headed down the road to a relationship with him. Something exclusive. Something where you could spend time with him and Noah on a regular basis. 
You stopped back at your place after class on Wednesday and quickly changed into a sundress and touched up your makeup. You put some lip gloss on and grabbed a bag of Skittles with a smile. You considered stopping for coffee, but you were anxious to get to Bradley's house, so you skipped it. 
When you let yourself in the front door, you could hear them playing with blocks; you were so used to the sound of Noah destroying the towers after he built them. "Hello?" you called out, and Noah was racing into the living room. 
You scooped him up into your arms and held him tight. "Watch any good princess movies without me?" you asked as Bradley came strolling in as well. He looked so good in his snug jeans and black undershirt, your mind went blank for a beat.
"Hey, Princess," he said softly, stopping just a few inches away from you. He was looking at you with a soft smirk on his lips, and you couldn't help but think about Saturday night on the floor.
"Hi, Daddy," you said with a smirk of your own, and his eyes went a little wider. "How's your week been going?"
You knew exactly how his week was going, because he'd told you this morning that he masturbated to the photo you sent him while he was in his own shower. But you held Noah in your arms and both of you looked up at him with questioning gazes. 
Bradley shook his head slightly. "My week has been excellent so far, Princess. Thanks for asking."
"I love to hear that," you replied, and then you kissed Noah's cheek. "I have a coloring book for you. Wanna see?"
"Yes!" Noah cheered, and you took him to the kitchen table. When you procured from your bag a beach themed coloring book, he got right to work. 
"And I have something for you," Bradley rasped. "Wanna see?"
You pressed your lips together and hummed. "Right now? In the kitchen?"
Bradley chuckled and pulled you closer to the counter. "It's nothing dirty," he whispered in the filthiest voice, and then he handed you a vanilla latte from the coffee shop. As always, Princess was scrawled across the cup. You took a sip while he drank from one that said peasant. 
"I thought you were the knight," you remarked, blowing on your hot drink. 
"I'm waiting for you to upgrade me permanently," he said with a wink, pulling his phone out of his pocket and messing with it while you drank your delicious coffee.
Bradley set his phone on the counter, and you glanced back to see that Noah was coloring nicely by himself. You grabbed the fabric of Bradley's shirt and pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his in a soft lingering kiss. 
"Missed you," he whispered, and when you smoothed his shirt out for him, your eyes caught on his phone screen. 
The dating app was still there. And so were the app notifications. Your coffee soured in your stomach as you saw someone named Julie send him a message before the screen went black. 
"I don't even know how to cook half of the stuff I got, but I figured you'd be able to figure something out," he told you, opening the refrigerator and shrugging. "We'll eat whatever you want to make."
Well now you didn't feel like cooking shit for him! You could leave. There was nothing keeping you here. Not Bradley who would never take you seriously. 
But there was something keeping you here. Noah turned and looked at you. "Can you make food? For later? And ants on the logs?"
You sighed and nodded at him. "Of course, Noah. I'll make you some ants."
You brushed past Bradley to look inside the refrigerator for yourself. At first glance, you knew you could make them some spaghetti, tacos or hamburgers. In an effort to make sure Noah was well fed, you wanted to stay long enough to make all three and pack the food in plastic containers, but you couldn't even look at Bradley now as he was back on his phone. 
You pulled out ingredients to make tacos, adding the carrots and peanut butter for Noah's snack to the counter as well. When you started browning the meat and cutting up the carrots, Bradley came to stand behind you, rubbing his mustache along your neck. You tried to shrug out of his grasp, but his fingers on your arm felt so nice. 
"Hey, baby?" he asked, his damn phone still in his hand. You finally pulled away from him and turned to look up at him. 
"What?" you asked a little harshly. 
His eyes narrowed at his phone screen. "I can't figure out how to get this damn app off my phone, and the notifications keep popping up when I'm trying to watch the Nationals highlights. Can you help me?"
Bradley held his phone out to you, and you carefully took it. There were countless notifications for the dating app at the top of the screen, and messages kept popping up. You looked up at his completely relaxed face. 
"To be clear, you want me to help you delete the dating app?" you asked cautiously. 
"Yeah," he confirmed, with a casual nod. "It's annoying."
You caught sight of a message from Charlotte who was trying to introduce herself to him. "Bradley, you've got tons of women contacting you."
He leaned closer to you and said, "Yeah, I know." Then he pointed at the screen. "See?! The damn notifications keep covering the MLB scores!"
It took all of your willpower not to kiss his mustache off. "Want to watch me delete it so you know how to remove an app for next time? I won't always be around to help you with your phone, Grandpa."
His eyes drifted from his phone in your hand to your face. "Grandpa? I thought I was Daddy."
You looked up at him innocently. "Now watch closely. Oh wait, do you need to put your hearing aids in?" you asked, annunciating every word slowly. 
"You're obnoxious," he whispered, kissing your cheek. 
"Can you eat tacos with dentures?" you asked, still speaking loudly. 
He glared at you, trying not to smile. "Can you just delete the app?"
"I would love to," you told him, kissing his lips before showing him how to remove it. And then the app was gone, along with all the messages and women trying to chat him up. It felt like the air in the room was easier to breathe. Like a pressure had been lifted off your chest. 
"The Padres beat the Blue Jays," Bradley told you, pointing at the screen. 
"You amaze me," you told him, cutting up a tomato as you smiled. "You can operate a sixty million dollar aircraft, but you can't cook or use a smartphone."
Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter and carefully took the knife out of your hand and set it down on the cutting board. Then he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back against him. "I'm good with my hands," he murmured, letting said hands drift down to the hem of your dress. "Precise. Quick, but not too fast. Decisive." 
You were practically panting as he rubbed your thigh with his big hand. Bradley's fingers brushed along your bare pussy, and he groaned in your ear. 
"I'm hungry," Noah whined, and Bradley pulled himself away from you. 
"Dinner is almost ready," you promised, and Bradley sat down next to Noah to help him color a pelican.
------------------------------
Bradley knew for a fact that you weren't wearing anything under that little dress. You were just flouncing around his kitchen, sipping a latte and fixing his phone, and you weren't even wearing any underwear. 
Fuck. You were perfect.
"Here's a taco for you, Noah," you said, placing a plate in front of him which was lined with ants on the logs as well. "And two tacos for Daddy," you said with a smirk. 
"Thanks, Princess," Bradley said, letting his hand stroke your knee before you turned to make yourself a plate of food. When you sat, he asked, "Are you free on Friday? I have a late flight simulation, but we could have pizza night again."
You smiled as you picked up a taco. "Yeah, I'm free. How late is your simulation? Want me to pick Noah up from daycare?"
He paused with his food halfway to his mouth. He could avoid the daycare late surcharge. He would know that Noah was safe with you, waiting for him to get home. "You wouldn't mind doing that?" 
"Mind?" you asked, leaning toward Noah as he smiled at you while he ate a carrot. "I've been saving a special coloring book for just such an occasion!"
Bradley nodded. "I'll add you as an authorized pickup person."
The three of you finished eating in silence, the kind of silence that was pleasant. And then Bradley sent you and Noah in to watch a cartoon while he cleaned up. He listened to you and his son singing that ridiculous dinosaur song while you carried him to the couch, and it made him clean the kitchen faster so he could join you.
He turned on his coffee maker and checked his phone only to find three missed calls from Meredith. Her relentlessness was concerning to him. He was probably going to have to call her back soon and let her get this out of her system. He could call her this weekend. There was no way he would actually let her see Noah, but Bradley could handle one, short phone call. Five minutes of him telling her how much of a handful Noah was, and she'd disappear for another twelve months. 
When Bradley carried two mugs of coffee into the living room, he found you with Noah sitting on your lap, watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon. You had your arms wrapped around Noah, and he was laughing. Your eyes met Bradley's, and you smiled at him when he handed you a mug that said Wanna see my cockpit?
You read it before you took a sip. "Yeah, actually, I do. Can I come to the naval base?"
He settled down on the couch next to you with his own drink. "You want to visit me at work?"
"Yeah," you replied with some hesitation in your voice. "Unless you only gave me this mug as an innuendo?"
Bradley grinned in spite of himself. He needed to make sure he wasn't setting himself up for failure here. One glance at Noah and anyone could tell he was attached to you. But honestly, so was Bradley. "You can see both cockpits, Princess."
Your soft laughter as your glossy lips met his mug had him leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder. He inhaled your scent as your eyes fluttered closed. The way you were drinking your coffee as casually as you could while Bradley ran his fingers underneath the strap of your dress was turning him on. He let his fingers trail down your arm, taking your hand in his, as he drank his own coffee and watched Mickey Mouse. 
"It's almost bedtime, Noah," Bradley told him, taking your empty mug along with his and standing. When you didn't let go of his hand right away, it made him smile. 
"One more?" Noah asked. 
"Yeah, Daddy, just one more show?" you pleaded, pouting your lips up at him. 
He shook his head at the two of you and said, "Fine. But just one more."
Noah picked another Mickey Mouse show, and then he asked, "Will you get our crowns?"
"Yeah, I'll go get them." Bradley leaned down and kissed Noah's forehead before taking the mugs to the kitchen sink. Then he stopped in his bedroom and collected his crown and Noah's from his dresser. Then he gently pulled yours down from his bedpost and took all three back to the living room. 
Bradley set the yellow crown on Noah's head before putting the green one on himself. Your purple crown was starting to get bent, and there was a small rip in it, so Bradley was sure to be delicate as he sat down next to you again and placed it on your head. 
"Princess," he whispered, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. You turned your head and kissed his hand, and Bradley sat with one arm around you until the cartoon ended. 
Bradley knelt in front of Noah. "Let's get your teeth brushed and get you in bed, bub," he whispered, and Noah scurried into his arms before he stood. Bradley looked down at you on his couch, your dress bunched up around your thighs and your eyes alert. "Please tell me you're staying a little longer?"
"I have an anatomy exam tomorrow morning, but I can stay for a little while."
Bradley nodded before he left to get Noah's teeth brushed and changed him into pajamas. "I love you," he whispered against Noah's cheek as he tucked him in, but he was already falling asleep. 
Bradley set the yellow and green crowns on Noah's dresser before pulling the door shut behind him. He stood in the hallway for a few seconds and adjusted himself in his jeans. Just thinking about you on his couch had him hard. But he couldn't just go in there and fuck you. No. That's not how things worked with you. There was always something else involved, like the ease with which you teased him or the seductive way you fed him Skittles. 
"Fuck," he grunted, taking off to see if you were still on the couch. But you were standing and picking up your tote bag. At least you hadn't put your shoes on. Or taken your crown off.
You turned and met his eyes and held up a bag of Skittles. "Wanna help me study?"
He let out a deep breath. "Anatomy?" he asked with a smirk. "I think you and I might be good at that."
"I think you're right," you agreed, opening your notebook and handing it to him. "It's on the musculoskeletal system." 
Bradley skimmed the page and looked at you. "I have an idea," he whispered, reaching for the Skittles. "May I?"
You held the bag out for him, saying, "You're still at a fifty percent cut, but only for a probationary period. Don't you dare try to take more than that." Your grin was irresistible as Bradley took the candy from you. That purple crown on your head made him feel like he had claimed you for his own.
But when Bradley set your notes and the Skittles on the couch and took off his shirt and jeans, the grin disappeared from your face. 
--------------------------------
Bradley was undressing down to his briefs, and you were aching with need. 
"I thought we were studying," you asked, ready to pull your dress off as well if that's what he wanted. 
He took your hand and guided you to the couch. "We are, Princess." He sat down, legs splayed wide, and pulled you down onto his lap so you were seated on his thigh. Your hand came to rest on his shoulder as he opened the bag of Skittles and glanced at your notebook on the cushion next to him. 
You kissed his cheek and said, "I think I like studying with you."
"Focus, baby. Where's my serratus anterior muscle?"
You had to bite back a moan as you looked at his body. He was stroking your thigh gently with his thumb as you ran your fingers along his ribcage. "Right here."
"Good girl." This time you did moan while Bradley very gently placed a yellow Skittle between your lips. You chewed it up as he glanced back down at your notebook. "Pronator teres?"
You ran your fingers along the inside of his elbow, and this time you earned a purple Skittle. 
"Deltoid?" he asked softly, and you let out a little gasp as your fingers drifted along his perfect shoulder. "You're so smart," he praised, hand feeding you a red Skittle as you turned to straddle his hips and pressed yourself against his hard cock through his underwear.  
"Bradley," you whined, his hands on your thighs heavy and warm.
"Trapezius?" 
You bent closer to him until your lips were drifting along the perfect muscle between his neck and his shoulder. You kissed him before pulling away. 
"Right there, Daddy." His cock jumped inside his briefs in anticipation as he fed you a green Skittle.
"Omohyoid?" he rasped, stroking his hands higher on your thighs. 
You kissed his neck just below his chin, gently sucking on him. His groan made you bolder, and you gently bit him there before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. 
"So good," he whispered, and you took an orange Skittle from his hand. "Abductor?" 
You pulled his hand from your thigh, found the correct muscle in his wrist, and kissed him there. When you grinded down on his cock, you nibbled on his wrist while you looked at him. His eyes were filled with lust as he watched you work your lips on his skin, and you desperately wanted to feel him inside you. 
When you released his wrist, he held a red Skittle out on his palm, and you pulled it between your lips. Then you kissed him softly, letting him take the candy between his lips and eat it.
You and he repeated this with an orange one followed by two purples and a green. He put them gently between your lips before you fed them to him with a kiss. Bradley's hand found its way under your dress, and he started stroking his knuckles along your clit. 
"Princess," he groaned, slipping a finger inside you as he kissed your cheek and adjusted your crown. "God, baby. You always gonna get this wet for me?"
Your notebook ended up on the floor along with the empty Skittles wrapper, and you were slipping your hand inside Bradley's underwear and pulling the elastic below his balls. "You make me wet," you whispered, now riding two of his fingers as you stroked him. 
"Will you let me fuck you again, baby?" he asked, pupils blown wide as he finger fucked you just right. But you knew his cock would be even better. You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it, careful not to hurt your crown, which you left on. And then you were completely bare for him, running your hands along his shoulders and biceps. 
"Yes," you told him, "I want you to. So badly." His eyes were raking all over your body, dipping down to watch his own fingers, wet from your pussy as he withdrew them from inside you. He coated his cock in your arousal, and you were moaning as you got yourself in position. 
Bradley pressed himself up against you, licking his fingers clean and smirking. You took him inch by inch, keeping your eyes on his, until you were surrounding his cock with your body. When your eyes shut and your head tipped back, Bradly took your chin in his sticky fingers and forced you to look at him. "Do you have any idea how good you feel?"
You whimpered, shimmying your hips until he was buried so deep. "Tell me, Daddy."
He kissed you, letting his hand slide down your body, pinching your peaked nipples before settling on your hip. His kisses were soft, almost lazy, and he guided your hips in a rolling rhythm. He tasted like Skittles. You rode him nice and slow, gasping into his mouth. 
"You're heavenly, Princess. I could fuck you all day, stay buried deep like this."
You whimpered, louder this time, as his lips skimmed down your neck. He was all lips and teeth, nibbling and tasting you from your collarbones down to your nipples. 
"Bradley."
-------------------------------
You had the tightest pussy and most perfect body Bradley had ever experienced. He was trying to think of ways to keep himself hard as long as possible, because he was pretty sure he'd work up the stamina to fuck you all night if he could. You were that good. 
He watched your head lull to the side, your crooked crown still on your head as you rode him so well. "Oh my god," you moaned, half lidded eyes widening as Bradley grabbed your hips and fucked up into you, hard.
"Keep going, baby," he told you, mesmerized by the bounce of your tits each time he bumped you a few inches higher. "You get what you need."
You shook in his arms and leaned forward to kiss him. "Daddy," you whispered against his lips. "Please. I'm so close."
Each rub of your clit against him had you getting a little louder now. Bradley put his mouth back on your tits, sucking and licking, bruising you as you whined his name. You were so responsive to his touch and his lips. 
"Tell me what you want," he growled, feeling the first flutters of your orgasm.
You were bouncing hard and fast on him now, but you took his hand in yours and guided it to your clit, making him smile. 
"I'll take care of you."
"Please!"
As Bradley stroked you with his fingers, you cried out, squeezing harder, burying your face against his neck. You were keening for him, grinding down as you came with shaking legs.
"Daddy," you whispered, panting softly next to his ear, and Bradley was positively dying to slam his cock into you. "Take what you want from me, Daddy."
He squeezed both of your thighs, keeping himself buried deep inside you, and flipped you onto your back along the couch. You looked up at him above you with wide eyes, your crown askew. "I wanna fuck you hard," he growled. 
"Oh!" you whined, still so tight around him as he pushed harder into you. "Do it."
With one knee on the couch and one planted firmly on the floor, Bradley held your legs together to the side and slammed into you. You were so loud, all wide eyes and surprised smile as he railed you good. 
"Bradley!" you cried out in surprise when he dipped down to taste your bouncing tits, and your fingers tangled in his hair. God, he loved this. He kissed your neck, inhaling your scent, and then he softly kissed your whole face and even your crooked crown as he slammed you into the couch cushions. 
"I'm gonna cum," he groaned, and you wrapped your sweet hands around the back of his neck and kissed him, swallowing all of his grunts and tasting his lips. He filled your pussy, his thrusts slowing as he fucked his cum deeper inside you. 
Bradley pressed his lips to your chin and looked up at you. Your chest was a little sweaty beneath his palm, and you were holding him in place with your leg wrapped around him. 
"You okay, Princess?"
You nodded, working the crown almost completely off your head. "I liked that."
Bradley groaned. He couldn't remember ever being with a woman like you. You liked to tease him, but you still told him exactly what you wanted and what pleased you. 
"You made sure I came first," you added, stroking your fingers along his forehead and up into his messy hair. 
"I always will. Every time, Princess. Try my best to make sure you feel good."
Your expression was dreamy, and Bradley had kissed off all of your lipgloss again. He wanted to invite you to sleep over, but he knew you had your anatomy exam the next morning. With a soft kiss to your lips, he pulled himself out of you with a groan, missing your body immediately. Then he stood and pulled you up to your feet as well. 
"I know you have to get up early for your exam, but you can stay and sleepover with me if you want," he whispered, holding you against him.
You looked up at him with your innocent face. "Another night."  
Bradley kissed your cheek and nodded. He helped you get dressed, and he scooped you up in his arms and carried you out to his car. "Friday, when I get home from my flight simulation, I think we should talk, Princess. We'll have more time then."
"Okay." Your voice sounded breathless and hopeful.
"Good luck tomorrow. I'll be thinking about you."
"See you on Friday," you said with a smile as you started your car. When Bradley walked back inside, he locked the door and then picked up your crown and took it back to his bedroom.
-----------------------------
On Thursday morning, bright and early, you sat in a lecture hall, taking your anatomy test. You breezed right through the questions on the muscular system, imagining Bradley's gorgeous body splayed out on his couch for your academic needs. 
You bit your lip as you marked down your final answers, recalling the way it felt to brush your lips along the stubble underneath his chin. Your body was a little sore from how rough he got with you, but it felt so good. Because he was also so sweet. He said he would always try to make you cum first. Good God, Meredith was a fucking moron. If you ever ran into her, you might even have to tell her that to her face.
You knew you were falling for Bradley. Hard. Him and Noah both. You loved being at Bradley's house, sipping on coffee and coloring with Noah. You loved cooking meals there. It was much better than your tiny rental. So much better than being alone. 
When you finished your exam, you checked your phone. 
Bradley Bradshaw: You're so smart, you'll do great. I'll stop by in the morning after I drop Noah off at daycare and put the carseat in your car so you can pick him up. 
You wrote back as you made your way across campus.
See you tomorrow, Daddy.
--------------------------
They feel like they are in a good place. Get ready for the angst! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !
PART 12
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peachesofteal · 9 months
Note
OHHHH I SEE WE ALL HAVE OMEGAVERSE FRENZY IN THIS HOUSE
What if Darling DID INDEED take suppressants for almost all her life after she presented as omega
BUT but but the reason she was off them was because a doctor told her she was in risk of losing all her ability to produce pheromones.
“Losing your capability of producing pheromones can come with a number of issues,” she tells you. “For starters, your heat cycles would be reduced to at least half of their frequency. There is also a decrease of libido, as well as a decrease in fertility. It is also not uncommon for omegas to experience separation or breakup with their partners, especially if they're alphas, but not to be–”. However, you stopped listening after separation.
You thought about that comment your co-worker made in passing about being dumped by his two alpha partners after he couldn't carry pups due to hormonal problems. He was promptly thrown out into the streets. Abandoned. Tossed away like a broken glass; no purpose and no means for existing, nor to fix it.
Surely, they wouldn't leave you for something like that, could they? But then the back of your mind whispered with its little secrets and ideas. Sure, your secondary gender wasn't all that glued you to them, but it had something to do, at least, right? A happy, little omega waiting for them at home.
“There are, however, solutions and treatments that we could possibly try.”
That snaps you out of your own thoughts.
“When was your last heat?”
You could vividly remember it. Your then partner asking you once more to sleep separately from them, because your heats not only bothered them, but also disgusted them.
“More than five years ago.”
Your doctor then stayed quiet for a few moments, the gears in her mind working.
“There is a possibility of this change in your glands to revert back to what it was, but you might have to forget about suppressants for a year at least.”
And Darling says yes, whatever it takes.
And this is how Darling had to stop taking suppressants for a year and deal with a heat every two months, and while that did indeed helped to start reverting the alteration in her glands, it also left her to deal with her own heats alone.
She never asked for help because she always knew when Simon and Johnny had their ruts, usually staying a couple days on base even though the op was over. Because she didn't want to think wrongly of them (would they be disgusted with her heat cycles just like it happened, out of the blue, in her three past relationships?), but also she really didn't want to be a bother to them. There was a reason why they stayed on base while they went through their ruts and decided not to come home to her. So she got through her heats and welcomed them both home with cuddles and stories about her job.
(Not knowing that the reason they didn't come to her while rutting, was because they didn't want to overwhelm her, and their shared ruts could get pretty rough in bed, very different from what they wanted to happen when fantasizing about you letting them take care of your heats)
And imagine once Johnny and Simon find out about this, when you tell them in the middle of a fever induced ramble, in tears.
About how Darling not only doesn't trust them to deal with her heats but is also afraid of them being disgusted with her, afraid of them abandoning her once she (in her mind) became useless to them 👁️👁️ both hurt and betrayed by this, but torn because they desperately want Darling to at least let them bring her snacks and clothes.
(But also I love the angst. It makes the thought of Johnny and Simon eventually helping Darling through her heats more satisfactory LMAO The thought of Soap and Ghost banging Darling until they kick out the insecurity out of her is tempting)
— 🫔 Anon, with love to you Peach and everyone else that's feral for omegaverse right now, just like me 🥰 fr I wish the best for you all A/B/O enthusiasts and especially for you Peach, for creating not only excellent work but also a safe space to talk about unhinged AUs<3
TAMALE 🫔 ANON 🫔 I love you and your beautiful brain. Never leave me. Stay here in our safe little au bubble forever.
And this anon! Lots of love 🩵 your brainchild really got to me
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18+ MDNI / Dead Disco omegaverse au / Mature themes / I still have no idea what we're doing with these but let's go with it
At first, you think it’s a fever.
Your head is cloudy, like you’re in some sort of sick fog. You try over and over to focus on your work, but after you make the same mistake on paperwork, three times in a row.
But when your stomach starts to cramp, sweat slicking along your lower back, you know it’s not just a fever.
You know it’s something else.
You fire off an email to your boss referencing your heat leave before you lock your office for the week, week and a half you’ll be gone.
You’re not particularly ready for this one. You haven’t gone to the grocery store. You haven’t washed your linens, haven’t collected the usual pile of hoodies and shirts for nesting.
Not to mention, the timing. The guys have already been gone for two weeks. They could come home in the middle of it, could discover your lie, all your lies. About the suppressants. About your feelings. About the truth.
“You have to come off the suppressants.” You blink, trying to register her words.
“N-no. I… I can’t.” She doesn’t understand. You can’t go off your suppressants. The guys… they share each other’s ruts, they don’t need a heat cycle on top of it.
She says your name with sigh, before glancing at you over her glasses, lips twisted.
“Are you in safe place now? A safe home? With a pack?”
“Yes but they’re not my mates, obviously.” You’ve always been insistent that you don’t need the bite to be with the guys, that you don’t need a heat to be in a relationship with them. That you’re enough, the way you are. After what happened to you in your young life, you had vowed to stay on suppressants for the rest of your life. And even though they didn’t know the truth of everything, they supported you.
And they’ve always agreed. They’ve never pushed you, about the suppressants. Never tried to bully you or convince you otherwise. They’ve always told you they love you, no matter what.
But will they feel the same now? If you change? If you turn into some heat driven Omega?
They already have each other to satisfy themselves. Would they even know what to do with a heat? Would they even want to?
“You’re in a safe place. Your life has changed so much, don’t you think it’s time you give yourself a chance?” She doesn’t get it. They won’t want this. Won’t want you.
“I can’t, I-“
“It’s your decision to make, but I want you to be fully aware of the risks. The suppressants are impacting your ability to produce pheromones. If it continues, your fertility will also be negatively affected.” Your stomach sinks like a stone. Fertility. The one thing you and Johnny and Simon whisper about in the dark sometimes, a baby, or two, a family. “Do you understand?” She’s kind, sympathetic but firm, and you nod.
“Yes.”
You’ve known there’s something amiss with you, and your cycle. That there’s something wrong with your heats. You spend most of them in the closet, or under the bed, fighting flashbacks of your past and trying bring yourself relief to no avail. When you come out of them, you’re often confused. Disorientated. Missing entire days. It’s almost like you’re not even really there, and sometimes you catch yourself rubbing your gland with your wrist, trying to mimic a scenting by an Alpha. One of your Alphas.
Google tells you that it’s common for traumatized Omegas to react this way. That Omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates, often try to self soothe during their cycles. Omegas who have been abused.
You usually stop doom scrolling once you get to articles about failed bonds and bites, opting to to bury your face in one of the pillows, trying not to scream out your frustration. Trying to to get lost in your own panic, the fog that’s settling further and further into your mind, making it harder for you discern fact from fiction.
Eventually, you can’t fight it anymore. Your instincts take over, pushing into a space that feels too warm, too close, while your body rages, stomach twisting up in awful cramps. You burrow yourself in the closet, piling your blankets and pillows and articles of clothing until it feels almost right.
It does nothing to drown out the thoughts in your head. Your hindbrain is in control now. It’s taken over, buried common sense for instinct.
It’s not right. Your mates aren’t here. They left you. Your Alphas don’t want you.
You have no mates. No one to breed you. No one to give you what you need.
You’re alone. You’re not safe.
It’s going to happen again.
“Omega?” There’s a voice, calling to you. Two scents that are familiar, woodsmoke and gunpowder, juniper and ocean spray. “Hey, there ye are.”
A hand reaches towards you, and you press yourself against the wall. Don’t touch. Don’t let them touch.
“Darling,” that name. You know that name. “it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.”
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