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teddyniffler · 26 days

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In the Shadows of Friendship Forever

Chapter 17: Part 2

Everything was ready. The Gaunts and the Notts gathered on the path leading out of the house, looking down at the town below. “To their traditions, Muggle men go out tonight to encourage the courtship and breeding of their kind. They leave calling cards to say they have been, as they don’t use owls.” Mr Gaunt told the group. “How disgusting. We are not only having sport tonight, but stopping more of them being created. Such a noble work we do on this night.” Mr Nott laughed. “Such bizarre customs” He observed. Ominis stayed quite, he was to remain at the house while his family and the Notts went down below, he couldn’t see the Muggles to capture any, but he had been told he would have an important role, and a warning from Marvolo told him he should do as he was told. What they wanted him to do, he had no idea. “Ominis, we shall be back soon with tonight’s ‘guests’.” His father told him as they all walked away to the town. He was alone. The snow was falling all around him, he could feel it landing on him, however due to enchantments around the Gaunt’s house this night the snow felt dry and fluffy. Their home on the top of the hill would be lit up for all to see for miles around, it would look festive but nobody would know of the horror this house held. He had no doubt that a charm would be in place to block the screams and the flames being seen and heard down there in the town. He could almost picture what was happening in his imagination, his father walking boldly through the streets, at the head of the crowd, slowly and purposely walking towards unsuspecting Muggles. The Notts on one side, his mother and Marvolo on the other. All their wands concealed.

No muggle would raise an alarm, they would never see his family coming, they were truly serpents who came, attacked, and left without trace. Maybe they would be flashes of lights that shone up people’s walls, flashing in the windows. Before the Muggles had time to look through their curtains, they would see nothing in the street below, all the oil lamps would be strangely burned out, unexplainably extinguished. The falling snow would cover any fresh prints of footsteps. Red lights flashing like the colour of strawberries or white lights like what Lumos apparently made. Then the Muggles would be taken, it would be over so fast, They wouldn’t know what hit them. They would be snatched and taken by the night.

He was so horror fixed by what his own mind was trying to show him he didn’t notice Snakey tapping the skin behind his ears. ‘Friend. Friend’ “Oh sorry, what was it?” He asked in a hiss. ‘Smells and voices’ his snake answered. Ominis stood up. Yes, there it was, the faint crunch, crunch, crunch of footsteps in the snow. Then he could hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor, many things. “We got them! We got them!” Marvolo said, slapping Ominis’ arm. “We got one of their children!” His arms came around Ominis like a distorted hug from behind, followed by Marvolo jumping up and down. He was beyond excited; he couldn’t control himself. Ominis’ inside turned to ice hearing that. “How old?” He asked in horror. “Who cares, young I guess? We got its father too!” The way they spoke, it was like talking about birds hunted for game. “Wine?” Mr Gaunt asked Mr Nott and his wife. “That was some good hunting.” Mrs Nott complimented. “I did enjoy how you levitated that one so the other wouldn’t see. She looked so shocked when her mate just disappeared. The Ministry should make Muggle Hunting legal already.” “She didn’t even look up, its because they’ve never seen anything levitate before.” Marvolo’s voice popped in. “I was not expecting a woman and a child to be out tonight, that’s not normally how the Muggles work, but perhaps these are deviants.” “Oooh, criminal Muggles?” Marvolo laughed. “Ominis, don’t befriend this one, you already have a murderer for a friend.” “Who was cleared, Marvolo.” Came their father’s voice. “The boy was innocent; my son would not befriend low life who kill their own family.” Ominis felt faint, he felt like the floor was rotating slightly to the side. He couldn’t see the Muggles but his mind did, it was giving him awful visions. “Let’s get them on the pyre, then we can serve the food” Mrs Gaunt said “I do hope you are all hungry, we have quite the spread. My husband has ordered the best foods. Wait until you try these foods right from Italy, we have the same people who prep food for the Minister for Magic and our own house elfs are highly trained, they made the cake here.” Dragging noises and footsteps walking away, Marvolo was making odd noises of excitement as he followed the hunting party with their prizes. “Marvolo, stop that, it will bite you.” His mother was saying. “Such a small Muggle though.” Marvolo taunted. “This one can go in the center with this one.” “Incarcerous” “Need more rope there.” “Thank you.” “Father, there’s still room! Can we go back and get more?” “We’ll just do with these.” He could hear them talking and joking so casual with each other. Ominis could hear them laughing, it was surreal. “Remove their gags, nobody shall hear them now.” Mr Gaunt said. Almost at once, the sound of a child crying and a man’s voice pleading for help filled the air, Ominis guessed the others were too stunned to speak. “– What’s happening? – Please let us go! – Please, don’t, don’t- “

“Can we light it now?” Marvolo asked in glee. “Ominis, come here.” Mr Gaunt said suddenly. Ominis looked up in shock. He felt their eyes on him like piercings rays. He stepped forward, closer to his father. “Yes father?” Ominis asked. His heart was racing, his ears straining for the noise of any sound around him. “You shall light the pyre.” His father said. It was just like before. They had brought him out in front of the Muggles they had captured, they were kneeling somewhere in front of him on the floor and a small Ominis was placed before them, a wand placed into his hand. It was his father’s wand. Each Gaunt proved themselves worthy of the Slytherin bloodline by practicing the dark arts from a tender age. He was to torture them, he couldn’t bring himself to make those Muggles scream more, he had been upset at hearing the screams, then his family tortured him until he turned torturer himself. Now, his father was holding him in front of what he knew was the pyre they had been building. He could hear the cries of the Muggles begging to be freed. He felt a hand pulling out his wand and felt it being put in his hand, his own wand this time, not his father’s.

“Set it ablaze” His father instructed. Marvolo’s eyes zeroed in on Ominis, so did his mother’s. They were all watching carefully. This was a test to see if Ominis really was worthy of the Gaunt name. ‘Do it’ Marvolo mouthed frustratedly. If Ominis embarrassed the family in front of the Notts… Ominis stood frozen on the spot. He could feel his father holding him, one of his hands moved off Ominis and then Ominis felt it, there was a wand touching the back of his neck. His father was hiding it from the Notts, but Ominis could feel the wand. “Ominis.” His father warned. There was a ringing in his ears. He was going to be sick. His heart raced and the cold night air suddenly felt very hot. He had escaped his family only to deliver himself right back into their hands. They wanted him to kill this time, not hurt, but to kill. He was not a killer. “Do it or you know what will happened. One last warning, you won’t get another.” His father muttered. His hand around his wand was sweating so badly his wand felt wet. This could not be happening, it couldn’t be happening! Not again. He remembered the pain, the hot burning pain ripping through every fiber of his being, it had been more than agony. He never wanted to feel that again, ever. “Cruc-“ His father started in a whisper so the Notts wouldn’t hear. “CONFRINGO!” Ominis yelled in pure terror, such was his fear he wasn’t thinking straight and the wrong words came out of his mouth, rather than setting them on fire, he had- Tears were running down his face as his wand trembled in his hand. The resulting explosion that followed only made him flinch more, right into his father’s arms. There was a great heat, his fingers felt burned, he fell into his father then landed on the ground, he curled his legs up and tried to protect himself from the Cruciatus Curse that was surely about to hit him any second. It never came.

While he lay cowering, he became aware of Marvolo roaring with laughter. It sounded like his brother was also on the floor, his laughing so great he couldn’t stand, then came the sick thud, thud, thud of many wet things hitting the floor, causing Marvolo to scream in mirth. “Incendio not good enough darling?” Came his mother’s voice, touching his face. “My little boy likes the dramatics.” The Notts were also laughing, clearly not noticing what had really happened. “His spell threw him backwards, amazing!” Ominis raised his head when he felt hands picking him up. Marvolo was left on the ground, it sounded like he was crying and struggling to breath, from all his laughing. “You blew them up!” He gasped. “That was magnificent! We only wanted a fire, but that explosion! Brother! There’s pieces of Muggle everywhere! They are splatted up the house walls!” Ominis didn’t need eyes to know what had caused the thudding noises. ‘Eat now?’ Came Mori’s voice “Yes Mori, and look, Ominis blew your food into small bite sizes” Marvolo chuckled. Somebody lifted his hands and he felt a wand tapping gently as somebody healed his scorched fingers. “A little messier than expected.” His father sounded as delighted as his mother. “You did well my son. Ah, he burned his hands dear, but it’s all healed now.” The fire was blazing hot, the pieces of the Muggles currently not in the flames were strewn around the Gaunt’s normally perfect garden, with Mori feasting freely upon them. “The food remains untouched” Mr Nott sounded upbeat. “Shame about the bonfire, but I do enjoy pyromantics, you have raised your son well, Gaunt.” “He is a wonderful gentleman in the making, come Ominis, Marvolo, get some food.” Ominis was half carried to the food table, handed a plate filled with food. He sat, horror and shock gripping him. When the Notts were not looking, Marvolo pushed food into his mouth, rubbed the tears from Ominis’ face and pushed down his trembling hands. None of the Notts suspected anything, nor did they notice Ominis collapsing and Marvolo taking him to bed. “He’s tired.” Mrs Gaunt said affectionately, when Ominis’ disappearance was noted. “He’s only sixteen, he can’t stay awake as long as Marvolo can, we are very firm about bedtimes until they are off age.”

The night closed with the remaining Gaunt’s and the Notts playing a wonderful trick on the Muggles. The year 1892 opened to a beautiful red winter sunrise, pinks and oranges filled the sky but it was all flooded out by a low red sun. Some of the houses still had festive decorations up, but any festive mood was ended abruptly once the screaming started. The police were summoned by a running man coming in from the streets, all around people were rushing to the police to report another nightmare finding.

It appeared, to the confused policeman, to be multiple victims of exploding houses, possible due to a fire and a build up of gas, such things sadly did happen when homeowners neglected to hire a chimney sweep. However one giant fact broke this theory, no houses had blown up. The policeman, growing more and more concerned by more and more body parts turning up all around town, came to the conclusion it could be the killer known as Jack the Ripper. He had never been caught and he had been quite for a few short months, it could be likely he was now in the north of England rather than London. The police would issue a curfew for women to be home before dark and for his force to patrol the streets, in the meantime, more body parts turned up, including one that sent horror and despair through the town of Little Hangleton. Nobody could explain it, but everybody could see it. Far up on the church roof, too high for any man to climb, was a served head looking down at everybody below.

A few streets away, in the village center, a man with a hat pulled low over his eyes glanced up at the house on the hill in the distance. The gruesome discoveries of that morning were still being found by his group of Aurors, they vanished them and altered the memories of the Muggles in this area. The story they had placed in the none magically community was a Muggle duel had broken out, but the unexplained explosion had all the signs of magic origin. The head Auror kept looking up at the House of Gaunt, he knew exactly what had happened here. This was their work, he just knew it, however he was helpless to act. Even if he were to march his Aurors up the hill right this very second, there was no hard proof the Gaunts did this, just his inking, and that family were very well protected. If he tried to take on the Gaunts, it was more likely the entire Auror office would be forced to disbanded on some cock and bull claim against them. He sighed and vowed right there, that one day, one day, he would bring that family in.

#ITSOFF17.2

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goldengoddess · 3 years

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i worry about you - kaz brekker

request: ok what about kaz sending inej to check up on his s/o every night and then his s/o catches inej one day and confronts kaz about it and he basically admits he gets worried about them and needs to know they’re okay before he lets himself fall asleep

a/n: this was kind of cute and very in character for kaz so i love it <3

warnings: none i think

at first you hadn’t noticed it. you hadn’t really picked up on the fact that every other night inej would walk you to your room at the slat or that she would knock on your door for something random like, ‘oh what time are we getting up tomorrow morning’. inej’s sudden interest in your nightly routine and nightly where abouts hadn’t made you suspicious, the two of you were good friends after all.

but then, on the nights that inej didn’t stop by your room, you felt like you were being watched. you would pace around your room, open and close the door after checking if someone was standing outside, and you’d make sure the blinds of your windows where closed every night.

then one night, you caught her. maybe she was being clumsy that night or maybe you had been so paranoid recently that you were able to notice the Wraith’s movements.

“inej come out of the shadows please” you had sternly said, your arms firmly crossed across your chest.

you heard a small sigh and then suddenly inej materialized from the shadows. she wore a sheepish grin like a child who was caught taking candy after dinner.

“hey y/n what are you doing here” she lightly joked.

you almost let yourself smile, this girl. but you kept your fake stern face on, “inej, what are you doing in my room? it’s almost midnight and i saw you like an hour ago.”

she let out another sigh. she thought for a moment. and the spoke, “look i was just checking in on you. you seemed sort of down at dinner and i wanted to make sure everything was okay, honestly.”

you had let yourself smile at her then. it was so sweet that she had noticed.

really, you had been bummed out all night because kaz seemed to be in and even worse mood than usual and his moods always affected yours.

“i’m okay inej, just an odd night. i appreciate the fact that you checked in, but for future reference, i’m perfectly okay if you decide to use my door like a normal person”

she grinned while walking backwards to your window, “you know that’s not my style y/n.” and then she flipped out the window like the spider she was.

but that wasn’t inej’s last visit. and she didn’t use the door like you’d told her too. now that you knew to look out for her, it was easier to notice when she slipped into your room and then slipped out.

she’d stay for a couple of seconds and then leave. in and out like a ghost, leaving no trail of her being there. but now that you’d seen her you couldn’t un see her. and this wasn’t some friendly check in, you weren’t sad or in a bad mood every night. and she came into your room every night.

after about two weeks of this weird unexplainable routine of inej’s, you decided to say something.

you were sitting on your bed reading when you let out an exasperated sigh and closed the book. you blew some hair away from your face before saying, “saints inej please come out.”

you got deja vu as she walked out of the darkness. “you heard me again?” she said to you, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

you shook your head, “i’ve been able to tell every time you’re in here since the last time i caught you. don’t forget you’re not the only spy here Wraith.”

she stayed silent, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“tell me why you’re here. why you sneak into my room every night” you said.

she took a seat on your bed next to you. “i’m checking in on you” is all she gave you.

you threw your hands up in frustration, “why inej. you know i’m fine why do you feel the need to check in all of a sudden. are you okay?”

she laughed at your concern, leaning her head on your shoulder. “im checking in because kaz told me to check in on you.”

you pushed her off of you in shock, “kaz brekker? the kaz that we’re both friends with ? both work with?”

she nodded her head, “the one and only.”

you shook your head in disbelief, “why would kaz ask you to do that?”

she shrugged and pushed herself off the bed, shuffling towards the window. “i’m not sure. he told me to do is a few months ago and-”

“months?!” you interject.

“-and he takes it very seriously. i always have to go upstairs and tell him everything is okay.”

you were confused to say the least, you didn’t understand why kaz would ask inej to check on you every night. so you stayed silent. inej took that as her cue to leave, slipping out the window the same way she had weeks before.

you waited a few minutes. you mulled over your thoughts and memories, looking for any reason that kaz might need to know your location at night. had you done something wrong ? did he suspect you were betraying him? you felt a little hurt at the thought. you and kaz were close, closer than he was with the rest of the crows. he should know that you would never leave the dregs, they had saved your life. kaz had saved your life.

you shook your head and walked out of your room. why not just ask? it couldn’t hurt right? kaz may never give a straight answer in his life but maybe he would tell inej to back off.

by the time you made it to his door you were slightly angry, possibly annoyed. what right did kaz have to spy on you using one of your own friends. was there no such thing as privacy ?

you knocked on the door and waited for kaz’s ‘come in’ to step into his room/office.

he was sitting at his desk, hunched over a couple of accounting books from the crow club. you knew him well enough to know he was double checking every transaction to make sure there were no mistakes.

he looked up and pushed the papers away from him when he realized it was you. “oh y/n, it’s you.”

you huffed and walked over to him, standing in front of his desk. “yeah it’s me. i need to talk to you about something.”

he leaned back in his chair, motioning with his arms for you to go on.

you took a deep breath, “why have you asked inej to check on me every night?”

his eyes went wide slightly, and he sat up straight in his chair. all of his relaxed energy gone.

you went on, “because frankly it’s disrespectful. i don’t do anything that would make you suspicious of me. you know i would never leave or betray the dregs. so why do you ask my friend of all people to check on my location at night time kaz this is an invasion of my space and i can’t-”

“that is not why inej checks in on you” he interrupts.

you placed your hands on your hips. “okay so tell me brekker, why do you need inej to check in on me?”

he ran a hand through his hair. it kind of seemed like he was having an internal battle with himself.

“because i worry about you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, your eyebrows creasing in confusion. “what?”

he was staring at his gloved hands, anywhere but you. “i worry about you. i want to make sure you get home okay or that you’re relaxed. i don’t make her check because i think you’re out working with another gang. i ask her to check to make sure you’re safe. especially if you came back from a job.”

you stayed silent for a minute. you had come in here ready for a fight, not this. you were prepared to fight or endure kaz’s passive aggressive energy for a couple of hours, you most definitely hadn’t prepared yourself for his honesty.

“but why would you want to know i was safe?”

he chucked darkly. “it’s not that i want to. i need to. unless i know you’re okay i can’t sleep. i’ll stay up for hours overthinking your job and how i wasn’t sure if i had seen you at dinner or playing cards with jesper. and then my mind wanders into all of the things that could have happened to you or could be happening to you. so inej tells me when you’re in your room safe and not in pain and only then can i fall asleep.”

neither of you said a word. you fidgeted with your fingers as a distraction. you were in shock. you were flattered. the blush on your cheeks far too hot. you were feeling so much.

but mostly you felt loved and cherished by kaz.

so you said, “sometimes when you’re in a mood. i get in a mood. it’ll ruin my whole night because i know for the rest of my day i’ll worry about you. and whether you’re feeling better or not. thinking about what made you pissed in the first place. thinking about all of the people who could make you happy in that moment.”

he deserved your vulnerability back.

when it became clear that kaz wasn’t going to say anything, you made your way to his door.

“wait”

you paused at the door

“i’ll tell inej to back off”

you turned towards him and he was finally looking at you.

you smiled at him, “thank you kaz.” you paused for a moment. “maybe tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that, i’ll come in here and say good night? right after my jobs and when i’m heading to bed. would that be okay?”

if he needed the reassurance that you were okay to sleep, then you would happily climb two flights of stairs to give him that peace of mind.

plus you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt at the prospect of saying good night to kaz.

kaz had a small grin on his face too. “yeah,” he whispered, “that would be fine.”

you opened the door and before you lost your courage you said, “and kaz. you can always come down to my room to say goodnight. i like knowing you’re safe too.”

you stepped through the door and closed it behind you.

“good night brekker” you called out behind you.

#Kaz Brekker #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows #six of crows imagine #inej gahfa #inej gahfa x reader #shadow and bone #nina zenik #jesper fahey #Grishaverse #grisha #leigh bardugo

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koushisatori · 3 years

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if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

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neversetyoufree · 2 years

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I have seen people complain about the VnC anime removing the bi material, but the scene with Domi and the maid was just for laughs and they never interact after that. And the anime still makes kinda obvious Vani wanted that blood drinking due to Noé drinking from Domi, just made it subtler. Personally, I would only complain if they removed Vani's jealous face when hearing Dominoe and his comment at the staircase. The OP, ED and ep 6 show the anime is all for Vanoé. Your thoughts?

Okay, so I realize that you sent this ask all the way back when episode 6 aired, and I'm just now answering it after the whole anime has finished, but bear with me. I actually think I'm better equipped to answer this question now that the anime in its entirety has aired, and we know bones doesn't have any surprises up their sleeve.

Overall, I think this issue could go either way. I don't think that the anime purposefully singled out bi/queer content for removal, but at the same time, I totally get why people have been mad, because a lot of queer content has in fact been removed or handled oddly. Not all of it! But enough to notice. Enough to make it pretty clear that, even if Bones wasn't trying to censor anything, they don't care about conveying VnC's queerness either.

Personally, I wasn't that mad about the removal of Domi flirting with Nox, because I get that it's an unimportant scene that was cut for time, but at the same time, that's kind of the whole issue. Dominique feels pretty undeniably queer when you read the VnC manga, but a lot of that just. got cut for time, and so it no longer feels that way in the anime. She's no longer introduced by flirting with a woman, and we don't hear her talk about how she's "only popular with girls." They do keep in her commentary about Jeanne being cute and rather dazzling, and they leave in the dance, but it still lands differently. The dance has a built-in explanation of her trying to torment Noé a bit, since she thinks he has a crush on Jeanne, and could be argued away as straight if you really wanted to.

So in Dominique's case, I don't think they set out to erase her bisexuality. I think they cut a few small bits about her early on, not realizing how important those moments were for establishing her queerness in fans' eyes, and as a result her anime incarnation feels a bit less definitively bi.

And though it's not an issue of bisexuality, the same thing also happens in the last few episodes with Luna. Because (I assume) it didn't smoothly into the fight without the chapter break, and because they didn't have time, Bones cut the flashback to Luna discussing that they're neither a man nor a woman. I believe we still hear Vanitas call them a woman and Misha call them father, so anime-only fans can at least draw the conclusion that something interesting is happening with Luna and gender, but an unexplained, mildly confusing implication is a very different thing from having a character explicitly say "I am nonbinary," which manga Luna more or less does.

Again, I'm inclined to pin that on Bones simply cutting the scene for time without consideration for queerness, rather than explicit censorship, but still, you can see why people might be frustrated/feel as though it was censored.

Finally, where Vanitas and Noé are concerned, things get complicated, since even in the manga everything is subtext. However, I do think their relationship comes across rather differently in the anime than it does in the manga, and that includes a loss of some of the queer-coding.

I have a whole lot to say about this topic, and it'll get its own post someday, but to summarize, VnC the manga is centered on Vanitas and Noé's relationship, and the anime is much less so. Through a long list of tiny tweaks and small omissions, most of them justifiable in isolation, the anime loses a lot of what makes Vanitas and Noé's manga relationship feel so well-developed and so close. We do get lots of moments preserved (or even occasionally expanded upon) for VaNoé, with your mention of jealous Vani in ep 4 being one of them, but the greater whole they add up to is still different.

I can't exactly call this erasure, since again, the queerness in the original isn't explicit either, but it is something. If anything, I'd say it's just a case of bones translating the original manga to the screen poorly (in this respect), and thus losing some of the original meaning. Not homo/biphobia, but a mediocre adaptation.

So on a whole, I don't think bones has been censoring VnC's queer moments on purpose, but they also didn't do the best job of bringing them into the anime. The openings and endings might be "all for VaNoé," but including a bit of subtext between two attractive, marketable male leads and including explicitly, inarguably queer characters are two very different things. The manga, with the exception of Luna, hasn't gotten to what I'd call explicit, inarguable representation yet either, but Mochijun has certainly gotten closer than bones has.

And as always, I do have to finish with the caveat that I am not Japanese, and at the end of the day, I cannot really speak that much to good representation in Japanese media. The above is how all of this reads to me as an american, but I am coming at all of this from a very different cultural context than actual Japanese queer people, so like. grain of salt. I'm not exactly an authority here.

#another post from the very depths of my drafts folder whoops #someday I'll answer all my unaddressed asks I promise #even if it does take months #vnc #vanitas no carte #vnc spoilers #meta #anime #Noé Arqueueviste #the gay agenda #dominique my beloved #ask #anon

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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nakedbibi333 · 3 years

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hi! im kind of new to law of assumption and old to law of attraction. law of assumption is not a hard concept but im a bit confused. i find myself reacting to the 3D too much and like i find it hard to persist? what do i do to make persisting easier? i think it’s because i don’t know much about what im getting into?? all i know is affirm and persist and etc. i hear things like time is an illusion, the 3D is an illusion, circumstances don’t matter, we are all gods of our reality. but WHERES the proof?? i can’t blindly follow people’s success stories because im not them and if we are truly the gods of our realities, doesn’t that mean someone else can manifest failure in mine? like i want to use law of assumption and i want to believe to get what I want fast and easily BUT i want to know how it works and that im not following a delusion to make myself feel better and in the end, I am just left with disappointment and failed attempts at manifesting that left me with the consequences of my actions. ive been in the community for almost 2 years and i don’t think ive ever gotten results. i am not usually agitated but it’s exhausting. i affirm and persist and nothing shows up and im worried im doing it all wrong so i ask and now I’m even affirming wrong?? I know manifestation is supposed to be easy and not feel like a chore but how can it not when everything I desire is of so much importance to me. I can even dm you, just please help me so I can actually manifest what I want. I’ve done self concept but I keep breaking. I don’t even know what affirmations to use to combat my limiting beliefs. Tbh I’m tired. I feel like if someone explained to me how this works and how to do it with no mistakes and how to keep faith in the unseen, I could actually get what I want. I keep failing and failing because I affirm and persist but I affirm wrong or I have a limiting belief that hasn’t been uncovered yet. I’m so exhausted and I just want to get what I want. I just feel like if someone told me how it works and exactly what to do, I wouldn’t be so confused and find it hard to persist

Hi! Okay, so since this is a very long post, I will try to answer each of your questions/concerns in the order you mention them.

So about persisting, I can understand how it seems a bit complicated. You persist when, after a certain period of time, you still don't see movement of your desires manifesting OR if you see the OPPOSITE of your desires manifest. Oftentimes, when you finally open up your mind to the idea that your mind creates your reality, then some past doubts and fears can manifest as well. Your mind will often try to manifest opposite things in order to make you feel like you are doing something wrong, which is why so many loa teachers say to persist. It can be very difficult for people to persist, which is why so many people feel like they can't manifest, or that manifestation isn't real, because their 3D reality has too much weight in their lives, so they take it as truth and end up giving up on their desires manifesting. It's important to begin to believe that your 3D reality is extremely malleable and is only a reflection of your inner reality. You need to take the power away from the 3D and give it to yourself and your ability to create exactly what you want.

Then you ask about proof of manifestation. It is very true and understandable that other people's success stories are not enough for many people because you want to be able to trust the information that you are going to be getting into. Personally, before getting into manifestation, I already had my fair share of unexplainable success stories in my life, so it just seemed like an answer to the questions I've had all my life. Even with these success stories and experiences, when I first got into manifestation, I still would doubt myself by wondering if it was simply a coincidence these things happened, or worse, that I was becoming delusional. I want to tell you that every single person who is now into manifestation has gone through this feeling. We all worry that we are just doing "wishful thinking" and being delusional because the world we have grown up in has always been so practical. It's not easy to believe in something that seems so impossible without any previous personal experience. So, the only advice I can give you for this is to try to manifest extremely small things to build your faith over time, such as seeing a yellow butterfly, getting your favorite food, or seeing some sort of sign, so that you would know that what we are talking about is actually the truth. Also, there are so many documents that go more in-depth on how our minds create our reality, including CIA documents and books about the science of manifestation, such as books by Joe Dispenza, and books about the subconscious mind, such as books by Joseph Murphy, and many many more. Since the only way, you will really believe in manifestation is by having your own experiences, then manifesting small easy things is probably the best route.

Then, you mention how you're worried about "someone manifesting failure into your reality." My view on this is that you are the only person who can affect your life and nothing can happen to you that you don't specifically manifest into your reality (whether it be consciously or unconsciously). Everyone can manifest, yes. Everyone has control over their reality. You can even manifest people acting in certain ways towards you. But that's in your experience specifically. If we are talking about quantum physics, time is not linear, technically all possibilities of all time, ever, exists right now. We also shift through different realities at every moment depending on our mindset, beliefs, and decisions. So, if someone manifests something in their life that would affect "you" but does not align with your thoughts and beliefs, then it won't show up in your reality. You have control over your own reality, nothing comes into your life without you allowing it, so that's a very empowering thought, in my opinion. I really suggest that you affirm this so that you don't have to worry about others manifesting negativity over your life because you would never personally decide to manifest it into your own life.

I also want to talk about how you worry about affirming wrong or simply manifesting wrong. It's Important to note that these beliefs can also negatively affect your manifestation because that is not you truly living in the end. If you were living in the end, you would know that simply deciding that you want this to happen, means that it will happen and that it has to happen. You never need to doubt your manifesting process because your subconscious mind is so powerful and it is so easy to make it do things for you! Just like what @divineangelbee says, you can COMMAND your subconscious mind and it will listen and give you exactly what you want. You don't have to visualize or affirm or do anything. Simply tell your subconscious exactly what you want it to do and trust that it listens! I really think that the reason that you have not been having too much success is because of this, that you are constantly doubting your methods which keeps you from truly living in the end.

Then, about limiting beliefs. It can be beneficial to people to be aware of their limiting beliefs. However, there has been such an intense focus on limiting beliefs in the loa community (mostly on youtube) that I see so much. Coaches keep you focused on the problem of limiting beliefs so much that they don't actually help you move on from them. Personally, I found that whenever I focused on my limiting beliefs, it was like living in the old story. (if you don't get this reference, I seriously suggest you read or listen to Neville Goddard's lectures in which he talks about the law of assumption. They are life-changing). Focusing on limiting beliefs keeps you stuck in that story you are telling yourself about your life. It keeps you from overcoming them and becoming limitless. It helps me to affirm that my limiting beliefs no longer have the power to hold me back. I don't have any more limiting beliefs because I manifested not having them anymore. Manifestation works in many different ways, and a lot of people don't realize that you can simply manifest your desired mindset as well. I suggest trying this!

So, to make this as clear as possible, I will tell you how I personally manifest (disclaimer: people manifest differently, many different things work for different people, I am not saying this is the only or best way to manifest, but this is just what works for me).

First, I get my idea of what I want to manifest. Usually, I want to manifest multiple things at a time, there really is no limit.

Then, I will decide what will help me "feel it real" and "live in the end." This can include techniques, but I don't use techniques every time. I don't like to visualize because I am personally a maladaptive daydreamer, so visualizing makes me feel like I am daydreaming, which keeps me from really feeling like it's really happening. (But, if it works for you, by all means, go for it) I may print out a picture if it's a physical item in order to trick my brain into having something physical that represents this or adding it to a Pinterest vision board (I am a very visual person, so it always works for me). I also like to make a list of what I want just to keep it in a place that I can go back to and mark off in the future, telling my brain that this is a goal I need to achieve (I find that my brain loves to check things off of my goals, it makes my subconscious mind already start working towards the goal). But most of the work goes into my mindset. I don't affirm a lot because I feel like it becomes a chore if I have to recite affirmations all day every day. I may put up affirmations on my chalkboard or put them on my computer, but I don't make it a habit to really say them at specific times, etc. I really focus on making myself feel deserving of getting my manifestation and I also live in the end. Living in the end is where you feel confident that your desire is already yours. If it helps, which it does for me, I like to believe that I have it already in the "quantum field," or the 5D, or however you believe in it. It is not about being delusional and pretending like you have it, no, it's about feeling trusting in your own power to make this happen for you and it will come, no matter what.

After that, I "drop it." I don't forget about it or stop desiring it, that's not what letting go means. It means that I know that I don't need to do anything or force anything to happen because my subconscious, or the universe, will bring this to me and I don't need to worry about anything related to my desire. I also self-regulate my emotions by meditating, focusing on the things that make me happy, and reminding myself of how powerful and capable I am.

Then, eventually, it manifests. Or, if it doesn't come in the timeframe I wanted it to, or if something that would oppose my desire pops up, I focus on my own self-concept, making sure I genuinely feel deserving of and that I can get what I want, and I persist in that feeling that my desire is still mine. No matter if I got rejected, no matter if they told me I couldn't get the job, no matter if it looks like it won't happen. I still persist. and then it comes.

Finally, I want to mention that I am only here to give advice and I can't make anything physically happen for you. To see actual movement in your reality, you need to be willing to go through failures in order to find out what works for you. I have had manifestations fail, I have had MANY manifestations fail. It's not always a perfect process. I don't charge money, my identity is not on this page, I am not here to be a famous coach or to act like I know any better than anyone else. I am just trying to help you guys reach the point that you deserve to get to in your life. But I can only do so much. I really hope this helps.

#ask #advice #long post

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violettelueur · 3 years

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWELVE || TO YOU, SOMEDAY

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi kugisaki nobara (mention of zenin maki) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 15 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.9k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : narrow-minded

↳ next episode : tomorrow

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i can’t wait to get to the kyoto exchange arc in this series because i am on the low, losing ideas with theses episodes - this is what happens when you don’t plan in advance guys ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ moving on from that, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and enjoy the friendship between Y/N, Fushiguro and Kugisaki ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

In one’s own good time, your eyes begin to open only for you to suddenly cover them with the back of your hand due to the bright lighting that concealed your sight for a second before you separated your fingers to let some of the light pass through the gaps to let you adjust.

From what you could observe between your fingers, the sky from above seemed to display itself as if it was the reflection of the ocean that was down below on Earth since it was just a solid clear blue as if a painter decided that one colour was enough for their masterpiece while there was weirdly not a single cloud in sight.

It seemed too artificial for you.

However, for some odd reason, you felt weirdly strange. Even though you had just woken up from a nap, your body wasn’t as stiff as how it usually was when you would wake up, Fushiguro and Kugisaki could back you up on that fact since they always see you stretching for some time before proceeding to train again when Zenin called for you.

“Wait, where are they?” you muttered before you quickly sat up from your previous position to discover that your classmates were not right beside you under the tree where you three usually sat while taking a break from training, causing you to slowly look up to unexpectedly widening your eyes once you noticed the scenery around you.

At this moment in time, you seemed to be in a whole different location from what you remembered being at as you frantically turned your body around side to side to observe everything around you right now. Surrounding you was a vast field of purple hyacinths leading you to become completely perplexed on where you were and how you managed to get here while being asleep.

Steadily, you got up on your feet as you continued to examine your current surroundings only to discover that the only thing you could see was the blooming flowers that were surrounding you. Quickly, you looked up to finally notice there was no sun that was brightening up the sky and the area you were in, causing you to become more frantic as each second goes by.

“Where am I?” you questioned yourself in a whisper before finally turning back to face forward only to widen your eyes once again as your body began to lightly shake at the sight in front of you.

“Mother?” you quietly called out in utter disbelief at the display in front of you.

Although, it seemed like she wasn’t going to answer you at all. She was just standing there, letting the wind brush against the both of you while a few purple petals danced around you both leading you to become more puzzled than you originally were.

“Mother, it’s me,” you stated out slightly louder, thinking that you were maybe too quiet for her to hear you, only to receive the exact response that you had in the beginning. On the other hand, it seemed like the person in front of you had other ideas as the woman you assumed to be your mother started to take a step forward, yet you decided to take one step back slowly.

However, your mother continued to slowly and leisurely keep walking towards you as your footing was unexplainably now fixed onto the ground, as if vines grow out to hold them still, not knowing what to do since you weren’t even sure where to even go. There was nothing around you but purple hyacinths softening the situation that was happening, but that didn’t ease your nervousness that was sprouting within your stomach.

Without warning, your mother now stood in front of you with a deadpan expression painted on her face (void of all emotions) as her hand steadily reached down to grab a handful of the violet flowers that was enclosing you both causing you to reciprocate the same action before you both rapidly swang your arm around before suddenly pausing once you shockingly realised that your katana was now in your hand rather than the flowers your pulled out, leading your breath to halt in shock before shivering, once again, at a tiny cold feeling slyly being placed on your neck leading your eyes to shift slightly to the other side to discover a blade being pressed upon your flesh, leading you to look at your mother once again with a mix of doubt and bewilderment.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a hint of pleading within your shaken voice, only to unexpectedly spot a lone tear falling down upon her cheek catching you by surprise while a soft smile gradually appeared on your mother’s face.

“I’m so sorry…” your mother muttered with a hint of regret, leading you to become more puzzled only for that emotion to suddenly disintegrate the moment your mother violently slashed down upon your neck.

ꕥ

Suddenly, your eyes widen in fear as your body immediately shoots up in pure shock as you attempt to catch your breath while frantically placing your hand on the side of your neck where your mother assumingly slashed with her blade if it was a real situation.

“Gojo!” someone called out, causing you to look up to see Fushiguro and Kugisako running towards you with worried expressions on their faces to which lead you to begin looking around the area to recognise your now familiar surroundings as the massive field purple hyacinths were nowhere to be seen.

“What’s wrong?” Kugisaki asked in a panic as she crouched down to your level, leading you to look at her before exhaling really slowly to calm your rapid heart as well as your linger shock at what just occurred in your dream.

“Sorry, I just had a really bad dream, that’s all,” you answered with a small smile, hoping that would ease her anxious face to which it slightly did. However, you knew it wasn’t enough to fully remove the feeling that your classmate had within her stomach.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fushiguro asked, only for you to turn to look at him before shaking your head as you then steadily processed to lay back down on to the grass as your head landed on your track top that you were using as a pillow.

“Does your neck hurt?” Fushiguro questioned you once again, as he placed a hand on top of the one that was currently pressing against it leading you to shake your head once again, before placing the same hand back down onto your stomach.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki eyed you suspiciously before taking the decision to sit beside you keeping you company since it seemed like you really needed it right now, even if you didn’t mention it to them.

When they saw you sprung up from your sleeping position, they assumed that you had woken up and was ready to train with them again since Zenin gave you a break due to you fighting all of them consecutively with the individual as well as team combat fights since they really needed to replicate the situations that would likely happen in the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event. However, the second they noticed the pure shock and horror that was painted upon your face, Fushiguro and Kugisaki instantly knew something was wrong.

Although, what they had learnt from being with you for the past few weeks to nearly two months was that you were quite the reserved person and never really wanted to display any vulnerability to anyone - even those you considered teammates/comrades - and to be honest, you were an expert on hiding every emotion that showcased any kind of emotion that made you feel unprotected.

It was just that this one time you lowered your guard.

To them right now, that was what you were doing. You were just peering at the green leaves above you with an emotionless expression as it seems you were in a trance.

What were you thinking? Were you okay? What was the dream about? How can we help?

That was what they wanted to ask you, yet they knew you were never going to give them the answers that they wanted, you were the type that would help others but didn’t allow them to help you. It was as if you didn’t want to rely on them...but why?

As she continued to think about the possibilities of what seemed to be your trust issues, Kugisaki couldn’t help but shift her body forward before gradually lowering herself to lay next to you as if she was going to take a nap, causing Fushiguro to look at her in confusion.

“Gojo, you know...being with you is quite amazing and it’s so much fun since we’re the only girls in our year, I feel a bit bad for Maki-san,” Kugisaki rambled before turning her head to face your direction, only to see you still looking at the same direction. “I wanted to thank you for training me since I know I have gotten so much better with your guidance, but I want you to rely on me as well,” Kugisaki mentioned with a bright smile as she turned back to look at the leaves above the both of you.

‘Rely on...’ you thought, as you continued to stare upwards.

“Oh! We should get some bubble tea tomorrow since we have an off day tomorrow, right? You know the one we saw when we went shopping last week, I wonder how it tastes,” Kugisaki suggested, leading you to give a side glance before slowly letting the corners of your lips lift up slightly to form a small smile.

‘Talking away to make me forget huh?’

“Sure, I don’t mind,” you quietly answered as you processed to close your eyes once again, surprising Fushiguro and Kugisaki as they didn’t expect you to talk at all. However, before they could even get another word in, they noticed that your eyes were shut causing them to wonder if you were going to back sleep or were just closing them for the sake of closing them.

During this time, Fushiguro decided that he would do the same as he steadily moved his body forward before laying down once he ensured that he had enough space for his back, joining you and Kugisaki in your relaxing session.

However, as your classmates were resting with the gentle winds breezing by with the sunlight giving some warmth from the cold, they didn’t notice how your hand was gradually going back to your neck as internal dread slowly crept its way up to your whole body.

‘To you, what am I now mother?’ you asked internally as you casually opened your eyes again, only to notice that you were still at the Jujutsu Tech track field - slowly coming to the fact that this wasn’t another dream and you were really back.

‘Someday...will I never get that answer?’ you questioned yourself once again as your finger brushed along the skin of where the slash would have been leading to slight shivers to travel down your back as if your body remembered the feeling of her blade slicing down your neck.

Steadily, you processed to close your eyes again, enclosing yourself into the darkness that you were somewhat fearful of going back into again. However, there was no other way you could get away from the real world right now.

Yet, a single tear welled up in your eyes as it then proceeded to drop down to the side, just like how your mother was in that dream.

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starlessea · 3 years

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𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

Do Me a Favour | Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours

Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess

Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added

~* Fifth Year *~

“Do me a favour?”

It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow.

“Yeah?”

“K-kiss me?”

A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.”

“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it.

“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?”

“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.”

He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers.

“Okay.”

Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic.

“Really?”

“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?”

‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer.

The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought.

“You ready?”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles.

“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.”

She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.

He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back.

In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back.

He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head.

Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks.

“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.”

~ *Sixth Year* ~

“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,”

“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”

“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?”

His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request.

“Do me a favour?”

For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.

“Okay…”

“Come to the ball with me?”

Her brows lift into a surprised expression.

“What?”

“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”

She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes.

“Why?”

“You owe me one.”

She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk.

“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,”

She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.

“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?”

The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.”

She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,”

“How romantic.”

“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.”

Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.

“Shut up,”

~* Seventh Year *~

Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument.

“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.”

“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”

Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.

“Fred,” She says warningly.

“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”

She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.

“What happened this time?”

“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.”

“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.”

“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.”

“I know.”

She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.

“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) hiccups, wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t know why i’m crying.”

“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”

“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”

“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-”

“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”

“I know but-”

She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest.

She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world.

“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”

“Anything, (Y/N).”

“Just- just hold me for a bit.”

His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion.

“Of course.”

~* Post-Hogwarts*~

“Do me a favour?”

(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.

“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.

“Be with me.”

She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back.

“What?”

“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”

“What did you just say, Fred?”

He gives her a look that's almost pained.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-”

“You… You like me?”

He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it.

“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).”

“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?”

“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.”

She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last.

Then, she comes to a stop.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?”

“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-”

“Shut up,”

She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be mesmerised all over again.

“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~

Hogwarts has never felt so different.

Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.

Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.”

She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto.

“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.”

“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.”

“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,”

She smiles sadly in agreement.

“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,”

Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them.

“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,”

“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,”

He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I love you, (Y/N),”

“I love you too,”

He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss.

“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,”

It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do me a favour?”

He pauses before breaking into a small smile.

“Always, Love.”

“Don’t die.”

“I promise.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred imagines #fred x you #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george #fred weasley

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

Text

Tobirama, Madara and Izuna with s/o who’s the last of the clan 💔

I was so excited when anon requested this one that I regret taking this long to finally write it! This time, we have Tobirama, Madara and Izuna with a s/o that reveals to be the last of her clan and besides infertile, which means that her lineage would be over with her, as well as their own. Let’s see how they would react!

To give this request a context, let’s imagine that they’re married for just some months and she never revealed this secret because she was afraid that they would leave her after finding out about it. Sm tension! Poor s/o 😭

Oh and Izuna's part ended up longer than I thought to be possible omg

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju, Madara Uchiha and Izuna Uchiha

Symbols: ◻ | 💜 | 💛 | ▶▶

Warnings: angst, not exactly happy endings, depression, tension, infertility, grief

Tobirama

It’s not like Tobirama didn’t notice something was wrong since you started living together: he did

He trusted you with his life, but he sensed you were keeping something from him, though he had no idea of what it could be

Maybe you did something shameful or something about your past has been haunting you since then, but you didn’t know how to tell him

Whatever the case, he never questioned you or tried to make you talk

He wanted you to take your time and only speak when you felt prepared, the best way for you to show how much you trusted and respected him

But months and months passed and your silence persisted, and it was hard for him to ignore it

One day, the answer to this mystery came in an unexpected way, during a casual conversation at home

Tobirama pointed out your circumstances were favorable: your routine together was settled, your house had enough space and he finally finished to work on some jutsu he has been developing for a while

You agreed and asked why he was talking about this now

It was when he said he believed that you both had proper conditions to have children

When you heard the word children, you couldn’t control your reaction: you started to tremble and covered your face to hide your tears

It took like one hour until you were able to speak again, and when you did, you begged Tobirama to listen to you until the end before thinking of what to do

You revealed that you weren’t lying when you told him you were the last of your clan, but that was not the whole story: you also discovered you were unable to get pregnant, which means your lineage would end with you

And if Tobirama kept married to you, the same would happen to his lineage as well

You explained you were scared to tell him the truth because you didn’t want to disappoint him or to see him leaving you

You also said you were sorry for destroying the trust he had on you and that if he wanted to step away from this marriage that wouldn’t bring him any benefits, you would understand

That was the moment when without a word you were remembered why you loved that man so much: he pulled you to him and involved you in a hug so tight that you thought you were going to suffocate

When he spoke, was to ask how you could think he would give up on you because of a child that you couldn’t bring to the world – a person who didn’t even exist

He married you because he loved you, not your bloodline

But you know, Tobirama is a man of actions and not just words, so once he understood how important this was for you, he started to work

He spent hours, days, weeks in research and tests with your genetic material to find the exact cause of your infertility, because with this information he could develop a cure

He also included the principles of chakra in his studies, which resulted in the cure being a type of healing ninjutsu

Tobirama didn’t like to speak about his techniques before he had proof of their efficacy, so he never talked to you about his discoveries. He was wise in not giving you false expectations

But one day, the jutsu was finally complete

He explained that he tried to improve the chances of success as much as he could, but they didn’t even reach 90% (an acceptable number according to him), so that the chances of failure couldn’t be ignored

You said that if the technique failed, you would learn to live with it and that all the effort he put on it was enough for you, for it was the greatest proof of love you’d expect to receive

Tobirama then explained how it would work and helped you with the preparations

You would take the healing treatment from him during a few sessions; after that, you would try a few times

All the procedure would take months, so you would have to be patient and reshape some of your habits: the healthier you would get, bigger were the chances of success

It’s been some time since you started the experiment, so there’s still hope

But you decided to use your time not just to rely on hope, but also to prepare yourself to whatever the future would bring to you ❤

Madara

Something unexplainable, a kind of sadness, were always present in you, in your voice, your gestures, and specially when you were quiet, distracted with your own thoughts

Since Madara met you, he had this strange sensation about you

Maybe it was a painful memory or something about your clan

You told him you were the last of it, so he was the only family you had now

He could say he understood part of you pain, for he lost his siblings when they were little, as well as his parents: he knew what it was like to be alone

But there was a part of the story you still hadn’t the courage to reveal to him: you were infertile, so you’d never be able to give him children

And you knew he wanted to be a father

Besides he was the clan’s head, so he needed an offspring

He noticed your used to get particularly quiet when children were mentioned

But he never questioned you about it

You, on the other hand, always knew that sooner or later, this would be discussed seriously in your house, yet you pretended it would never happen

But one evening, when you were sitting together, talking about the life you were building there and the future, Madara spoke again about his dream of becoming a father

This time, you couldn’t take it anymore

You said sorry to your husband, but you would not be able to make his dream come true

He didn’t ask how, or why: he just stared at you in silence, wondering what you were talking about

Then you finally confessed everything: you were not just the last of your clan; you were also unable to get pregnant. Having children were always a difficult theme for you, both because it was a dream you’d never reach and because of your lineage

You told him how you discovered your infertility, how your clan reacted to it, how you were rejected because no one would want a wife who wasn’t able to have children, how the world made your life gravitate around this instead of just let you live in peace

When you lost your family, your feelings were mixed: on one hand, you felt free from the burden of being infertile; on the other hand, you never felt so alone

You were determined to live only for yourself until you met Madara, who convinced you to do differently. And now things were about to get ruined because this shadow of your past

Your husband’s first reaction was to ask for a moment all by himself. He wanted to process everything he just heard before taking any measures

You gave him time and spent the rest of the night without seeing him

(You barely closed your eyes on the bed)

The next morning, he came back to talk to you

He said he was going to travel to seek for a solution and that he was not coming back until he found out something good enough for you two

You asked for details but he refused to give them. Sometimes he was so enigmatic that he would scare you

But you had to trust him, so you let him go even not knowing when he would be back

During his travel, Madara met some elder, wise people and asked for a jutsu, a medicine or anything that could help. He would pay any price for it

And they named their price, which wasn’t low. Still he paid

He would never speak about it with you, though

After weeks, he came back home with scrolls and artifacts and finally explained what he had in mind

You’ve never heard about those jutsu and didn’t trust those types of medicine

But you noticed he wasn’t the same man who left the house, so it was understood that he made some sacrifice to obtain those things

So that for your husband, you would try anything

If they would work, you weren’t sure

But you wouldn’t let all his efforts be in vain 😭

Izuna always had this positive, almost euphoric confidence in the future, in your love, in your success together, and didn’t accept anything that could contradict his vision of things

Izuna

The issue in this case started even before you got married

But to be honest, this was what first thing caught your attention when you met him

After living alone for years since you lost your family, he was the first person who convinced you to change your ways

He made you believe everything was possible, and to try and live happy again

Yes, even you, despite everything you’ve been through, felt the flames of hope waking up again inside your heart

Sometimes, you felt like Izuna had enough vital energy for you both

The sensation was such that after every meeting with him you needed some time by yourself to recover: his company was almost suffocating

He was also a man used to make important decisions quickly: he hated wasting time with deliberations, stating that this was a habit of old people

(Wasting time in his words, let’s be clear lol)

The idea of the marriage came from him, as expected

Of course you said yes: you loved him as much as you loved yourself, so the idea of being by his side forever was everything you could expect

And with your positive answer, Izuna has been more intense than ever

He made plans for you: the house you would share, the memories you would create in it, the life you would build there

Everything was fine, even when he forgot to ask your opinion

Until the moment he mentioned the children he expect to bring to the world with you

You knew that once Izuna got attached to an idea, it was impossible to make him change his mind, so things weren’t different with the fatherhood thing

In a short amount of time, this became the central theme of his dreams and his favorite thing to discuss with you

Well, to speak about with you, because you barely said anything during these conversations

Instead, you tried to appear as positive and supportive as you could

But as the days passed and the marriage came closer, it was getting harder for you to hide how much this was making you suffer

Because yes, Izuna knew you had no clan and no family, then being the last representative of your lineage, but you never had the courage to tell him about your infertility

And now that he seemed not to think of anything else than having kids with you, you couldn’t dream of ruining his happiness

(Fortunately Izuna was used to your quietness, so he never questioned your silence when he spoke about this)

You stayed strong until you could during the following weeks, but the day before the marriage had pushed you too far

You couldn’t – you simply could not ruin the life of the man you loved revealing that secret to him

So you decided you had to make a sacrifice, for the both of you

Early that day, before the sun appeared, you packed your things and left

You left no apology letter, no message of goodbye, nothing. You just left before anything could stop you or anyone could see you

You traveled alone during a couple of hours

You had no idea of where you were going, or what you were going to do when you had to stop at somewhere to rest, but you forbade yourself to think of coming back

At some moment, you looked at the sky and noticed the midday was close and felt hungry

You stopped under a tree and was about to unpack the food you brought with you when you saw you had company

You raised your eyes and, when you recognized Izuna standing there, staring at you with a look full of questions, you lost the last drop of balance you had in you

You cried so hard you thought you were going to pass out

He approached you was about to involve you in his arms, but you begged him not to touch you, claiming that you couldn’t marry him and that he must have not followed you

But Izuna was a persistent man, and after an hour trying to calm you down, he managed to make you speak

There was no point in hiding anything from him now, so you just told him everything

You explained that you’d marry him and make him the happiest man alive if it wasn’t for this dream with which you couldn’t help him

And that you couldn’t be so cruel to the point of bound him to you and deny him of this at the same time

When you finished your story, it was Izuna’s time to remain in silence

You could feel the rush of feelings stirring inside him as his eyes would go from one side to another, trying to assimilate all of that

You didn’t know if he was going to leave you there, to kill you or to burst in tears, and that was freaking you out

It was when you begged him to say something, anything, but not stay that quiet

And he spoke. But when he did, there was nothing but a restored passion in his tone

You didn’t understand that until he explained that he thought you were kidnapped or something worse happened, but he was glad that it was nothing like this

Before you could stop him, Izuna caught you in a tight embrace, telling you to never do that again

And that he was sorry for not letting you at will to take off this weight of you chest and that if he knew about this he would have never pushed you this far

You came back with him and the marriage happened as planned the next day

Some time later, you found about about a kid of an Uchiha couple that just lost their parents

You talked to each other and with the kid’s remaining family and came to the conclusion that they would live better with you

The family talked to the kid, and when you had your first meeting, you almost forgot about all the past suffering 🌹

#naruto requests #tobirama #madara #izuna uchiha #tobirama x reader #madara x reader #izuna x reader

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Text

pairing: prince childe x bodyguard male reader

req: no | wc: 835 | cw: swearing | royal au

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (you are here)

Eventually, Childe’s feet grew tired. He still didn’t know how many pieces you’d danced to, only that you’d danced to far too many. If he could abandon the world and dance with you until the end of the world, then he would.

Alas, you were humans with needs.

When this piece came to end, he whisked you away, away from the ballroom and somewhere else within the castle.

“Where are we going?”

Childe himself didn’t know either, yet he continues to hold your hand and tug you along. “Somewhere we can be alone.”

The next set of double doors you encounter are large and closed, which naturally makes you wonder what’s on the other side. As he pushes the doors open, the moon bathes him in its light.

It was beautiful, a corridor with big and nearly floor to ceiling windows. Each one had a seat, though uncushioned, but enough to ease the aching of his feet.

As he sits down, he pulls you onto the spot next to him. “So how’d you like the dance, my prince?”

“I loved it.” He grins at you. Now that you’ve settled down somewhere, he doesn’t need to hold your hand, but he wants to. It’s… nice.

“Oh, by the way. You did call me pretty, right?”

Childe flushes pink, a pink you can see extremely clear in the moonlight. “Yes, I did.”

“Good, you’re being honest with me. Tell me, my prince,” Your hand cups his cheek, and even gloved, it feels warm. You study his face with a predatory gaze, the same look you send him when you’re feeling ‘competitive’ as you spar. “do you like me?”

“Where..” He gulps, eyes trailing down to your lips. “would you get that idea?”

You scoot closer to him, your other hand landing on his hip, yet Childe can only stare at your lips. Once again, you’re the focus of his world, bathed in the dim blue moonlight. He doesn’t mind getting lost in your touch again.

“Oh, I don’t know.” The movement of your lips is mesmerizing. “Gut feeling? But tell me, Childe, is my hunch correct?”

He licks his lips and nods.

“Would it be a bad idea to kiss you?”

“No, not at all.”

And finally, after all those damn near kisses, this was the moment he’s been waiting for. Your lips meet his and he feels blissful. He’s in love.

It’s barely anything, a peck even, when you pull away. But Childe wants more, he wants your lips on his for far longer than that. When he leans in for another, you stop him, much to his dismay. “Eager ar-”

“Shut up,” He mutters. “just kiss me.”

He melts into the next kiss, he melts into your touch, whatever you do, it melts him. He kisses with a fervor fueled by his longing for you. As you keep kissing, he keeps leaning forward, slowly and slowly until he’s basically on top of you. There’s a warmth on his lips that is only satiated by yours.

“What would happen if somebody caught us, my prince?” You keep him at a distance, waiting for his answer with a mischievous smile.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Even you can’t keep his passion at bay as he leans in for another kiss.

“You’re the only person in my world right now.”

And finally when he pulls away, you’re smirking at him. “You know, that was supposed to be an innocent kiss.”

Childe hides in your chest to avoid your humiliating stare, but his coronet falls down in the process. “Careful, Childe.” You catch his coronet before it can fall onto the floor.

Timidly, the prince pulls back in order to let you put the accessory on his head. “I now declare you ‘Prince of Snezhnaya’.”

“Shut up!”

You share a mutual laughter, one that reminds him of the butterflies in his stomach. But the feeling is now gone, no longer giving him an unexplained anticipation, because finally he knows about your feelings. There’s nothing else to wait for.

Once you stop laughing, it’s silent. The wind howls in his ears, but now it feels a bit soothing. It reminds him of your night together at the safe haven, your banter at the horse stalls, and your arm around his waist as you caught owls. The wind, cold and sharp or cool and soft, will always remind him of you.

Warmth will remind him of you. There won’t ever be a moment where he doesn’t think of you fondly.

Childe leans forward for another kiss, although much quicker and chaste. It’s sweet, just like the love you share for one another.

“I like you,” Your hand cups his cheek again, running a finger tenderly along his cheekbone. “if that wasn’t obvious enough.”

“It was but… I like when you say it.”

You press a kiss on his forehead, “Then I’ll say it again, however many times you want me to. I like you.”

He was enamoured by you, and you by him.

#childe x reader #childe x male reader #genshin royal au #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #🌺-m.fluff

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kpop-cakepops · 3 years

Text

Soulmate: Bells (part 1) // JeonghanxFem!Reader

Ummmmm so mayhaps this ended up being WAY LONGER THAN INTENDED AND WILL HAVE A 2ND PART.

Genre: IDK how to explain it other than VERY light angst mixed with fluff.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3,573 🙊

"I'm sorry Jeonghan... I really thought this would work out. I thought that this soulmate thing wasn't going to sway me" Sowon couldn't maintain eye contact with Jeonghan as she spoke.

"What do you mean?" He asked with a trembling voice.

"Jeonghan... I found my soulmate... and as much as I fought it, everything in me gave up..." She said

Soulmates. It seemed that the older he grew the more he hated the term. Soulmates? Who in their right mind would believe that a little sound you heard on your sixteenth birthday would lead you to the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life?

Sowon, apparently.

Despite having sworn to each other that soulmates would not make them waver, despite swearing to be together no matter what, no matter how hard and bumpy the road got... yet there she was sitting across from him, telling him she had given up on all those promises.

"Are you telling me you cheated on me?" He asked.

Sowon's eyes met the ground, but the more she refused to talk the more it dawned on Jeonghan, she had. She had cheated on him.

"Sowon-"

"I'm sorry! Please, I'm so sorry. It was the last thing I wanted to do but I couldn't stop myself... Jeonghan it's real. I heard it, the sound of glass clinking against glass. It sounds ridiculous because it's such a trivial thing to hear, but the sound made everything feel so clear, it was like my heart just knew and... Jeonghan, I love him. I don't even know him, but there's this- this part of me that I just can't control. I want to! I want to know him" she cried out. Jeonghan felt like all air had been kicked out of him. How was he meant to respond to that? He'd never experienced what Sowon was talking about, he couldn't even bring himself to imagine it... all he knew was that he didn't want to lose her. "I can't do this to you and I can't do it to him either. I'm sorry... we need to break up"

Tears pricked at Jeonghan's eyes as he watched the girl he loved the most stand from her seat and walk away from him.

That was the last time he saw her.

***

"Turns out his soulmate is a guy named Wonwoo... and he's so much prettier than me too! I seriously, cannot believe this is happening to me again... I was convinced I was his soulmate" you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you struggled to pull out a book from its place on the bookshelf. It had been a week since you'd tried to convince Mingyu that he was your soulmate, only for him to find his real soulmate a few days after meeting you.

"Maybe you should stop trying to force every pretty person around you to be your soulmate, Mingyu's bell wasn't even like yours, he was waiting to hear a bike bell and you didn't even hear your bell either, and NO someone yelling Taco Bell isn't a bell. Are you nuts?" Your best friend Soonyoung was on the line eating something as he yelled at you. It was a cycle he was both annoyed with and used to, but he understood. After spending most of your life alone, he understood why you were so adamant about finding your soulmate, the person that was meant to be with you for the rest of your life. The person who would rid you of the fear of dying alone and in pain like those who were never able to meet their soulmates because that's how this world worked. No matter how much you tried, sometimes meeting the one person that was meant to love you, was an impossible task.

"Okay so maybe I didn't hear the bell but I heard a bell" you insisted as you tugged harshly at the book finally managing to free it from its spot but dropping it in the process. You scurried quickly to grab it but a pair of dainty hands beat you to it and pushed the book up to you.

"Thank you" you murmured not paying any attention and walking straight past the stranger.

"You're welcome" answered Soonyoung, and it was almost like she could hear his shit-eating grin.

"Shut up, I wasn't-" you were cut off by the sound of a tinkling bell as the door to the small book store swung open, and suddenly, as if by art of magic everything around you seemed to stop. It was like one of those five gum commercials, at least that's the only thing you could compare it to. All your senses were alive and you couldn't help but feel... aware... of what, you didn't know, but you felt aware. You were reverted to your 16th birthday, sitting alone in your large dining room with no one but your nanny and the sound of a hopeful bell ringing in your mind marking you for the future. "Wait... wait Soonyoung, I heard it. That was it. I heard the bell" you said as turned around quickly to find the person that had just handed you your book.

Your best friend groaned on the other side of the line "Oh god... are you being serious right now? Are you seriously doing this again?"

"Shit... Shit shit shit, where is he? I lost him. He was right behind me-" you rushed over to the spot where you'd dropped the book but no one was there anymore. Then it hit you... the door. The door opened and closed only moments after he handed the book to you, he must have walked out. "Oh no... he left!" You dropped your book and rushed out the door, your phone still in hand as a sense of panic started to fill you.

"Soonyoung, I can't find him. It was him and I don't know what he looks like!" you were starting to freak out. How could you miss him like that? You were also confused. Wasn't the sound supposed to be automatic? As soon as the two of you met the sound was supposed to trigger... for the two of you so why wasn't he there? Were you mistaken?

"Wait, Y/N are you being serious right now?"

"Yes! Soonyoung, it was the bell, but I missed him. Oh god, NOW WHAT?!" You asked as you walked down the sidewalk, eyes roaming every single person in sight in case anything... special or magical happened, but it was to no avail. No one seemed to do anything for her.

"Y/N are you sure you're not just-"

You cut your best friend off in annoyance. "I'll call you back later, I need to find this guy" you grumbled quickly hanging up the call after. You really couldn't find him, he had been in front of you just moments before but he'd disappeared almost as he'd come. A second wave of panic passed you as you looked around helplessly. Tears were pricking at your eyes because despite being childish and immature most of the time, the feeling you got when hearing that bell was nothing like anything you'd felt before... and yet... your soulmate didn't look for you. Your soulmate should have heard the bell too, right? So where was he?

Slowly your biggest fear started materializing before you in the shape of nothingness, in the shape of loneliness. Your soulmate didn't seem to want you or at least didn't seem to care enough to come back and find you.

Except, he had found you. Your very soulmate was staring at you from the bookstore's window with a gaze of confusion, a part of him hated that your sole existence meant he couldn't choose love for himself, that because of the woman on the other side of the glass he could no longer be with the person he chose. That he was predestined to love someone he knew nothing about... yet the other half of him felt an unexplainable urge to walk up to you and hug you like he'd missed you his whole life. Of walking up to you and wiping away the tears you were earnestly trying to hide as you stared at every single person that walked by.

That's why Jeonghan found himself avoiding the bookstore like the plague after that day. He would walk by on occasion wondering if it'd be okay to walk in, but then he'd see you sitting outside the shop waiting for something to happen, and he'd turn right back around. Eventually, you stopped showing up, and although he'd never stopped to talk to you, Jeonghan subconsciously wondered where you'd gone and if you were okay.

After a month of not going, Jeonghan finally dropped by the bookstore when Joshua called him to help him with a new shipment. His friend had grown increasingly curious as to why Jeonghan had been avoiding the store when it seemed the store had been his safe haven since his heart-wrenching breakup.

"Mind telling me what you've been up to lately?" Asked Joshua when the last customer was out the door.

"Studying for exams" Jeonghan lied as he moved the stack of books to be donated into a box.

"Alone?" Asked Joshua curiously.

"Yes alone, who else would I study with?" Asked Jeonghan as he moved his floppy red hair out of his face.

"Oh... alright" Joshua answered.

Unable to hold it in, Jeonghan's best friend spoke again. "I found my soulmate," he said. Joshua knew it was a touchy topic for Jeonghan, but he was his best friend and it was important for him that Jeonghan know.

The red-haired man cleared his throat uncomfortably, he had found his too, but that was not something he necessarily felt like sharing with the world. He had tried convincing himself he was keeping it a secret to show that he was in control of his own mind and emotions, but in reality, he was scared and embarrassed. Scared that he'd be proven wrong about you, that you'd be everything he wanted and dreamed of, and embarrassed that due to his own capriciousness he was hurting you.

"Okay" was all that Jeonghan could muster at the news.

"I want you to meet her," said Joshua as he put unsold books into the same box Jeonghan had been filling.

This caused Jeonghan to pause for a moment. Joshua wanted him to meet his soulmate, "what for?"

Joshua sighed and stood up straight, his big eyes looking straight at his friend. "Because she's important to me and you are my best friend. I want you both to get to know each other."

Unable to say no to his best friend, Jeonghan nodded his head, "okay."

The lack of drive in his usually playful best friend worried Joshua and it pained him to know that if he even tried to bring the worries up, Jeonghan would simply disappear for a few more weeks again. "I invited her out for dinner, her friend will be coming too, so you don't have to worry about third-wheeling"

With a thin forced smile, Jeonghan stood and dusted his hands in front of himself. "Okay"

By the time they finished packing up the boxes, Jeonghan was ushered out of the store. He watched as his friend turned the "open" sign over and locked the door. Subconsciously, Jeonghan's eyes stopped on the silver bell hanging from the door. Memories of the way you had looked on that day, panicked and frantic as you searched the area for him. It made him wonder yet again, what you were up to and if everything was okay with you.

The wait at the restaurant wasn't long. It only took about 5 minutes for a girl to walk in with a bright smile on her face, one that was instantly matched by Joshua's the moment he lay eyes on her. "Hey" she greeted happily.

Jeonghan was too busy watching the two interact to even notice the way you'd followed Joshua's soulmate into the restaurant like a dejected little shadow. The truth was, you hadn't exactly planned on being there. You had been spending the last few weeks feeling sorry for yourself and ignoring your two best friends, for some reason you had started to get comfortable with that way of life, that is until In-na came barging into your home squealing about her soulmate... you couldn't exactly say no to her invitation, and free dinner wasn't exactly a bad idea.

And then you sat down.

You didn't notice him at first. When In-na had told you you'd be meeting her soulmate, you hadn't been thrilled, it almost felt like a slap to the face, but you knew your friend better than to believe her to be evil like that. You knew she had good intentions in mind when she told you her soulmate would be inviting his best friend so you wouldn't feel too much like a third-wheel. It was rude of you, for sure, but since the moment you sat you'd been on your phone texting Soonyoung about how much you hated being there, and trying to convince him to pick you up, but Soonyoung was ignoring you for ignoring him.

"This is my best friend, Y/N" you heard In-na introduce you and for the first time since you'd arrived, you were forced to face the two guys in front of you.

And then you wished you hadn't.

It was him. Everything in your being was SCREAMING that it was him. Every fiber in you knew that the man with hair dyed a deep red, that was sitting across from you at that very moment was him. But something was wrong with him. His big droopy eyes looked like a flashlight that had run out battery, all signs of light were gone and something in you stirred. Was it sadness? Worry? You couldn't pinpoint it.

Then there was Jeonghan, who, unbeknownst to you, saw almost a reflection of himself when he saw you. The burnt-out gaze and the bags under your eyes, except he was the cause for your sadness and then something in him stirred, but unlike you, he knew exactly what it was.

Guilt.

Jeonghan was about to excuse himself to leave but you beat him to it by painting a smile on your face, "nice to meet you guys"

You were mad. Angry. Fuming. He was pretending to not know you. He had pretended from the start because you could tell, even if you didn't want to, you could read him like a book because, despite him not wanting it, you two were entwined for life. Quite literally biologically wired to be together, because that's how society worked, that's how it had worked for centuries.

"Nice to meet you too" greeted Joshua softly, but his eyes we not set on you, just like In-Na's weren't. They were soulmates, after all, they were blind to the world around them... and it was simply disappointing how unlike them you and Jeonghan were.

Dinner was long, the energy emanating from you was directly absorbed by the man sitting across from you. He was uncomfortable, the way you were acting just didn't seem to sit well with him. From the way you picked at your food without taking a single bite, to the way you looked like you would rather be anywhere but where you sat, he felt... worried?

"Who wants ice cream?" Asked In-na and Joshua who, contrary to the 2 extras sitting beside them, were having the time of their lives. You wanted so badly to say you didn't want ice cream, to tell her to take you home, but the light blush that spread across your friend's cheeks and the almost sparkly gaze Joshua stared at her with, didn't allow you to make such a request. So instead you remained silent, and to no one's surprise so did Jeonghan.

"I know a great place, I'll go pay for the food, and then I'll drive us there," Joshua announced.

With that, he walked in direction of the front counter, leaving behind the love of his life and the two dysfunctional soulmates that refused to so much as look at each other. "Isn't he amazing? Isn't he, Y/N?" In-na gushed.

You smiled genuinely, if anything good had come out of that dinner it was the amount of joy it brought your best friend. "He's awesome, In-na. You two really are made for one another"

She clasped your hand in hers and grinned softly. "Thank you for coming. I promise we'll find your soulmate soon" she mentioned mindlessly. It was beyond frustrating to see Jeonghan lift his head from the corner of your eyes, his expression almost clueless.

"I'm going to go outside, I need to make a call real quick, yeah?"

In-na nodded, but you doubted she even heard what you said as her eyes were trained on the man paying at the front counter. With a sigh, you stepped out of your seat and took yourself out of the restaurant. The fresh air outside and the fact that you were no longer around Jeonghan seemed to decompress your lungs.

As if on autopilot, your fingers tapped at the screen of your phone calling Soonyoung.

"I don't know if you realize this, but I'm ignoring you" the man on the other end snapped as he answered the phone.

Hearing his voice made your heart twist in relief because despite being a dumb jerk sometimes, Soonyoung was your best friend. He was your comfort and that's precisely what you needed: comfort. "Soonyoung..." you hadn't noticed you were on the verge of tears until you spoke his name.

All signs of pettiness were gone from his voice as he answered, "y/n. Are you crying?"

"Listen, I get that you're upset with me, but I really, really, need you to come pick me up" you begged, forcing yourself to swallow the lump in your throat. "I promise you can go right back to ignoring me once you drop me off home"

"Where are you? I'll be there in 5 minutes."

"I'll send you the address. Just please come."

You hung up the call, hands wiping at your eyes quickly until a hand reached out before you, the same hand that had handed you a book back then, except this time it was handing you a tissue. You sniffle a bit before snatching it from him and blowing your nose obnoxiously.

Jeonghan didn't say anything as you both stood side by side waiting for Soonyoung to pick you up. He was still feeling guilty, but what exactly was he supposed to say? I'm in love with someone else? No, of course not, because the more he watched you, the more he forgot what Sowon looked and sounded like, and the more he stood in your proximity feeling all types of emotions... the more he forgot what 'loving' Sowon had ever felt like. Was he supposed to tell you that he hated you for something that was entirely out of your, his, and even Sowon's control when all he could focus on was how nice your hair smelled and how good the warmth of your body felt even when he wasn't touching you?

Exactly 5 minutes went by in loud silence until a car drove up to the curve. You pushed yourself off the wall you'd been leaning on and turned to look at your sullen soulmate, who had instinctively followed suit stepping away from the wall in alarm. You huffed in frustration as you watched him. You wanted to tell him off so badly, and yet his big eyes were now telling you he was just as confused as you about all the sudden feelings you were both feeling, you were so flustered you ended up walking away. Then you thought about it twice and turned right back around and stopped right before Jeonghan, your hand grabbing his causing his eyes to meet yours directly for the first time that night. "You, if you run away again and pretend to not know me, I will find you and... I don't know what I'll do yet, but Joshua will tell me where you are. I will make sure of it." you warned him, "bye." The bite in your words made him wince.

He wanted to answer and maybe even apologize but you didn't give him a chance to as you walked up to the car that was waiting for you across the street. A man within the car was glaring at him through squinted eyes, surely he was trying to intimidate Jeonghan, but all Soonyoung really did was make Jeonghan uncomfortable.

"Stop staring at him and drive" you grumbled bringing your friend back to reality.

At that moment both In-na and Joshua stepped out of the restaurant with bright smiles. "Where's Y/N?" asked In-na, big eyes searching the area for you.

Jeonghan didn't find it in him to answer her. The buzzing feeling in the hand you'd held was too intriguing to him.

"Can I have her address?" Jeonghan blurted.

The couple stared at him as if he'd grown a third head. "Um, why would you need that?" asked his best friend in confusion.

Because maybe having a soulmate isn't as bad as I'd thought it'd be.

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Note

A concept from a dream I had: Hisoka wants Chrollo's darling for himself and tries to steal her from him. Darling gets injured in the ensuing fight and has to get patched up afterwards by Machi. Then, a bit of fluff, darling seeks out Chrollo and hugs him for comfort because the whole thing has her a bit shaken. (Love your writing btw, it's super well written and captivating!)

Tunnel Vision. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Implied amnesia. Word count: 2.2k. Note: thank you very much!! i made some minor changes, where darling is a member of the phantom troupe, and not yet aware of chrollo’s obsession. i hope you enjoy! i’ve had a lot of ideas for this specific darling with nen abilities and this idea seemed to fit her very well...

Sharp, pointed nails digging into your skin. The sickeningly sweet fragrance of bubblegum blended with metallic blood. Black dots obscuring your vision, the world growing further away with each miserable second. Through labored breathing, a tense dialogue is exchanged between both parties, the ringing from your ears making it impossible to know for sure what they’re saying. Falling in and out of consciousness, you pick up on a few phrases.

“Just admit it, you’re no worse than I am. Look what you did to the poor girl. ♥”

“Maybe so, but that’s inconsequential. Your judgment means nothing.”

...

“Ah… what… a shame, that I didn’t... get to play with her as much as you did--”

“Hmm… to think your voice has never bothered me this much until now. This should silence you permanently.”

“--So you shouldn’t move around much until it fully heals,” Machi instructs, her voice clear and direct. At your lack of immediate response, she frowns, snapping her fingers to pull you from your trance-like state. “Oi, [First]. Are you even listening?”

You blink, her voice cutting through your clouded mind like a knife. “My bad, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Machi sighs and places a hand on her hip. Sapphire eyes glance over your person, not even bothering to hide her intentions, stopping every time she reaches your healed wounds. Even though your inebriated state, you can tell she’s deep in thought. You doubt she’d tell you what’s on her mind if you asked. So you sit there in silence, politely waiting for her to repeat what you missed.

“I could tell. Just take it easy, you’re going to need a few days of rest.” Machi walks to her bag, rustling through its contents. She picks up a bottle of pills and places it on your nightstand. The same medicine that she had given you before treatment, to dull the pain. You fight back the urge to smile at the small gesture. Had you been any other customer of Machi’s, she would’ve left by now without a word, indifferent to your condition. Despite your best efforts, she catches onto your softened expression and clicks her tongue.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she deadpans, shooting you a glare. You give an apologetic smile. “Take one a day until it’s gone.”

“Thank you, Machi. I appreciate it.”

“As you should,” Machi throws her bag over her shoulder and goes to the door. Before she can turn the nob, she turns back at you. “I forgot to mention, but you have a visitor. The boss has been waiting here since he brought you in.”

An unknown emotion stirs in the depths of your soul. Any playful retaliation you had for Machi’s previous comment dies on your tongue, your eyebrows furrowing. Why do you feel troubled by this revelation? You fight back the anxiety that bubbles up in your stomach. There’s no time to linger on this newfound unease, as Chrollo enters the room after exchanging pleasantries with Machi. Despite your efforts to suppress your discomfort, your body does as it pleases, heart palpitating and throat feeling tight.

He shuts the door behind him quietly and leans against the wall.

Chrollo Lucilfer. You consider your relationship to be a strictly professional one -- maybe a touch of reverence on your behalf -- never feeling as friendly with him as with the other members. He stands before you now in casual attire. Jet black hair frames his face, loose and fine, proudly showcasing the unusual tattoo on his forehead. It’s strange to see him without his trademark leather coat. Instead, he wears jeans and a navy blue undershirt. Immediately, you pick up on the bloodstains on his shirt, assuming he had shed his coat before coming in.

He smiles at your staring, not commenting as you glance away. “How are you feeling?”

“The medicine hasn’t worn off, so not too bad,” you struggle to exhale, your breathing ragged. Why does it feel so warm in here all of a sudden? “Machi told me you, uh, carried me here. Thank you. I’m sorry about your shirt… I’ll buy you a replacement.”

Chrollo puts a hand up to stop you. “There’s no need.”

Being one on one with your mysterious boss is as awkward as you imagined it would be. You still don’t know why he’s here. In between jobs, Chrollo would disappear into thin air, untraceable until calling the Troupe back together. So him being the one to find you on the verge of death hasn’t made sense. Machi gave noncommittal answers whenever you brought this up or told you to ask him yourself. Which you intended to at the time, but now that you’re in his intimidating presence, the words die on your tongue before they can begin.

He pushes himself off the wall and sits on the edge of your bed. The proximity feels strangely intimate, your face flushing at how familiar the act seems to him. Chrollo’s close enough now where you can pick up on his rich cologne. Dry wood with hints of leather. The scent increases your heart rate, anxiety at a new peak. You bite your lip and ball your hands into a fist to try and cope with the all-encompassing unease. To appear weak in front of him would be an insult to your tattered pride.

“Machi informed me about your memory,” Chrollo leans forward as if to inspect you. Grey eyes bore deep into your soul, searching for something. “She said you thought it was July when you regained consciousness.”

You swallow thickly at his questioning. How humiliating is this? Whatever it was that had happened to injure you already felt degrading enough. your pride as a competent Nen user in shambles. The most plausible explanation is that Chrollo discovered you after you had lost a fight, but the remaining details are fuzzy at best. Theorizing is all you can do. The unexplained amnesia is frustrating, but it’s only a few months, so you figure it could’ve been worse.

“That’s correct.”

Chrollo closes his eyes, as if in deep reflection. “So that’s how it is. I’m sorry to disturb you while you’re trying to recover, but can I ask a few questions?”

“Ah, of course. I’m sorry if I’m forgetting something important…”

This catches his attention, his posture tensing ever so slightly. You notice how his jaw tightens and assume your guess was correct. Your desire for answers on these missing four months strengthens and you feel hopeful that Chrollo holds some of the answers. It’s frustrating how both Machi and Chrollo seem to know more than you do but are refusing to give solid answers. Maybe they’re being considerate of your health? You’re not so fragile that you need to be coddled by your fellow Troupe members.

Chrollo looks down at you through thick eyelashes. “Do you think that you are?”

“I… I think so, yes.”

He sits silently for a moment, running a hand through his hair and giving a bittersweet smile. “We’re in a relationship.”

Wait, what? This would explain why Chrollo was with you at a time when the Troupe wasn’t gathered and his casual demeanor. Your expression must not be as schooled as you intended, as he gives a humorless chuckle to your wide eyes and parted lips. You… were in a relationship with The Phantom Troupe’s boss? Your boss? When did that happen? How did that happen? Did the others know? Ah, the teasing that would come with that. It’s not that you don’t find him attractive, your eyes work just fine, but the revelation still takes you back. Cheeks burning, you break eye contact and play with your hair. Feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious, you pull your blanket up further to cover your bare shoulders.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed, [First],” Chrollo chastises with a playful tilt of his head. “I’ve seen all of it many times before.”

He’s not making this easier on you. You’re desperate to move on from the subject and decide to bring up another troublesome topic. Though you have an idea of what the answer will be, you’d still prefer that he’d confirm it for peace of mind.

“I was wondering, boss--” you cut yourself off with an apologetic smile when he furrows his eyebrows, “--I mean, Chrollo, about my Hatsu. I can tell I don’t have it now. Are you ‘borrowing’ it?”

There’s no other plausible explanation. In what other scenarios would you lose a fight that horrendously? You can’t picture anything else, your abilities have been enough to earn you Chrollo’s recognition and subsequent invitation to the Troupe years ago. It’s not uncommon that your boss will ask to borrow other Troupe member’s abilities. Sometime during the months that you’ve forgotten, this must’ve happened, or so you assume.

Chrollo nods his head. “I am, yes. Why do you ask? Would you like it back?”

“It does feel like a part of me is missing,” you admit sheepishly, scratching your cheek. “So, if it isn’t too much trouble…”

“I had to delay the job I borrowed it for due to what happened to you. Is it alright if I hold onto it for just a bit longer?” He’s moving even closer to you now than before. The bed shifts underneath his weight, Chrollo delicately taking your face into his hands. Your mind has trouble scrounging together a comprehensible response. How can you focus when the pads of his thumbs rub soothing circles against your cheek, his deep eyes hypnotizing. You swallow thickly when his pointer finger drags slowly against your bottom lip. Chrollo told you that you’re together, you remind yourself, assuming he has just missed touching you. It’s impossible to not notice the hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, well, in that case, it’s fine.” You only manage to relax when he pulls away from you, content with your response. This has been a draining series of events. Chrollo’s one-sided familiarity isn’t easy to keep up with, you still view him as your boss and he views you as a lover. Sensing your apprehension, he takes your hand in his and places it over your pounding heart.

“Do you feel this?” He hums, to which you nod, speechless at the bold action. “Even if you don’t remember your love for me, your body hasn’t forgotten a thing from our time together.”

Is that what this feeling is? Love? You want to trust him, to take his word for it, but something still doesn’t feel right. Chrollo’s presence has kept you on edge ever since he entered your room. Even now, your skin is covered in goosebumps, hair standing on the back of your neck. What else are you forgetting? This is the question that reverberates in your mind, threatening to consume you entirely. Softly, as not to offend him, you take his hand off you. Chrollo’s expression is unreadable as you do so.

“I’m sorry, Chrollo, I’m just not sure I’m ready for... this yet.” You admit in truth, guilt washing over you at how his flirtatious demeanor changes to a calculating one. This is the version of Chrollo that you’re most familiar with. Your mysterious boss, who coldly issues orders and relishes in thrill of thievery, someone not as personal as he’s been acting like. Chrollo moves back and you’re grateful for the room to gather your bearings.

“Of course,” his aloof tone sends shivers down your spine, a distant gleam in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have every intention of watching over you until you recover. It wouldn’t sit well with me otherwise.”

Chrollo motions to your closet door, which is slightly ajar. Inside you recognize some of his clothes that are hanging next to yours. “And I do live here, but I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight. How does that sound?”

So the two of you were so close that you had invited him to move in? How fast was this relationship going, anyway? It doesn’t feel like you to get that intimate with someone else in such a short time. The way Chrollo phrased it makes it sound like you used to sleep in the same bed too, how embarrassing… God, his comments are going to be the end of you. You need time to think. To let all this information that’s been thrust onto you sink in.

“If it’s not too much for an inconvenience. I feel awful… about forgetting as much as I have. Machi said she didn’t see any notable head injuries, so I can only assume it was a Nen ability.”

“That could be it,” Chrollo responds more flippantly than you expected, standing from your bed. You thought he’d be eager to explore the avenues of returning your memory. Maybe it’s too painful to think about? “You haven’t eaten since this morning, so I’ll get us some dinner. Keep resting up.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for all this trouble.”

Chrollo waves away your apology without concern. He does, however, acknowledge you before leaving your shared bedroom. There’s a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You hope you’re imagining it.

“By the way, [First]... I want you to know this. I’ll have you fall in love with me again. That’s a promise.”

Then he’s gone without another word.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer imagine #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo imagine #hxh #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #elannia #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh imagines #my stuff #answered

827 notes · View notes

hb-writes · 3 years

Text

Like the Leaves

Summary: Set in the Little Lady Blinder universe in 1914. In the wake of Greta’s passing, Tommy’s little sister offers him some comfort.

Featuring: Tommy Shelby, Clara Shelby, Greta Jurossi (mentioned)

Clara had been awake for close to an hour, woken in the middle of the night by an unexplainable bit of strain clenching her chest, a distinct tugging and compression somehow working at her heart at the very same time. She’d experienced it before, a slight twinge, a bit of tenderness she’d come to understand as a warning that something wasn’t quite right.

Finn snored heavily in the bed beside her, not at all noticing his sister’s anxious movement, so Clara knew it was late. And beyond that, silence had settled on the street below and throughout the house, a quiet that only came when the streets of Small Heath emptied and the cool evening wind died down, most people safe at home, tucked away in their warm beds.

Well, silence had settled. And then Tommy came home, and once he had, there was a slammed door and a burst of short words followed by some stomping up the stairs before the silence returned.

Clara saw a bit of light through the open bedroom door, dim as it filtered down from the room at the end of the hall. Her brother had not stopped at their door on the way to his. It was his passing by without stopping that finally forced Clara up from the bed, spurred to action after close to an hour of looking up to the ceiling with nothing but her thoughts and the strain in her chest to occupy her. Tommy always looked in on them, always checked to be sure they were asleep, and sorted whatever it was keeping them up if they weren’t.

Tommy’s room was just down the hall, only a few steps, and even at six years old, Clara had already mastered getting there while making the least bit of noise, able to avoid the creakier floorboards even in the limited light.

She pushed open her brother’s half-closed door without knocking.

“Just fuck off,” Tommy said at the intrusion, nearly adding on a desperate ‘alright?’. He was unable to in the end, so certain his voice would break on those two extra syllables, the strain already there in the slow but sharp words he’d already said.

Clara shuffled her feet. Most people would have done as he had said, would’ve left Tommy to himself, especially with that tone, those words, but Clara wasn’t most people, and even when her brother frightened her, he didn’t, and the same push and pull active in her chest was working on her feet, nudging her on towards her brother’s anguish while also holding her back from the anger.

Sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, Tommy hadn’t even bothered to look up, assuming it was Polly coming in to make some attempt at comfort after he’d brushed her off downstairs, but it wasn’t Polly that had come to his door. Polly would have spoken by now, and in the quiet, Tommy found himself missing it, longing for the words and whatever comfort he’d just been so eager to shoo away. He glanced up, prompted by the lack of retreating steps and his sudden yearning, to see Clara, wide-eyed and frozen in the doorway.

She was used to hearing bad words, and had heard just about every variation of the word “fuck” tumble from her brothers’ mouths, and Ada and Polly’s, too, but Clara wasn’t used to Tommy’s tone or his directing those types of words at her. She stared back at her brother, taking in his red-rimmed eyes and the unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and Tommy felt like in just those three seconds, the kid had seen more of him, and knew more of him, than anyone else ever had. And that was saying something.

Because Tommy usually was himself with his little sister, and gave himself to her more completely than he did to anyone else, aside from maybe Greta, which was a different thing altogether, but there were still things Tommy liked to keep for himself. Grief and pain, for one. A six-year-old had no need to hold any of that for him. Clara would have a whole lifetime to collect her own.

Tommy took a deep breath, guilt seeping into his chest and swirling about with the grief that was already there, stretching him to exhaustion, everything in him tired and weary from holding it together, but the girl at his door, the duty he felt to her, and even the swirling guilt he felt for shouting at her was a reprieve from the grief, a welcome excuse to set even a portion of it aside.

Tommy set the cigarette down on the nightstand before running a hand over his face and taking another breath to reset himself, clearing his throat to rid his voice of the hurt.

“What is it, Clara?”

A nightmare, Tommy assumed, or a burning question, some grand moral dilemma his little sister couldn’t stifle or hold until the morning. It wasn’t beyond Clara Shelby to address that type of thing at three am.

“I don’t know,” she answered, shoulders heaving in a shrug, and she placed her hand over her chest. “You know when something hurts right here and you can’t sleep?”

“Come ‘ere,” Tommy answered, and Clara crossed the floor on bare feet, allowing him to pull her up onto his lap.

Tommy slipped off his boots and leaned back against the headboard, taking Clara along with him, her head already resting against his chest by the time he settled.

“You and Finn were sleeping just fine when I got home,” he said, though he hadn’t known for sure, only knowing that the room had been quieter than the stomping of his feet as he’d gone by.

“How do you know?”

“Your door’s on the way to mine.”

“But you didn’t look,” Clara answered. “I was awake.”

“And why’s that?”

Clara shrugged again, absently playing with the buttons on Tommy’s shirt, the gentle cadence of their conversation soothing them both though Clara was still carefully studying her brother, a series of casual glances cast upwards whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.

Polly was always saying how aware their Clara was, curious and perceptive and persistent just as he had always been. Clara and Tommy Shelby were far too much of those qualities for their own good was actually the sentiment Polly liked to portray, a bit of an insult wrapped in a compliment, because Polly was proud of her niece and nephew, even though those things were the source of her headaches more often than not.

Tommy leaned his head back against the wall, looking up to the ceiling as Clara continued with her fiddling. He wouldn’t wish being like him or the depth of his feelings and thoughts and perceptions on anyone, but especially not on the little girl sitting with him now.

“Is she okay, Tommy?” Clara mumbled.

“Is who okay?” he asked.

“Your Greta.”

Tommy could feel that Clara’s head was still resting against his chest, her fingers picking at his shirt button, so he let a single stubborn tear fall, his face turned towards the door so it didn’t fall on his sister’s head.

She was uniquely perceptive for such a young child, something which Polly attributed to some wild, roaming heart she was always claiming for the two of them, but it still surprised Tommy when Clara picked up on something she had no business picking up on.

He hadn’t told her Greta was sick, had barely spoken of it to anyone except Polly, but he figured Clara had overheard something. She and Finn were always somewhere they were meant to be, hearing things not intended for their ears, and if she was calling her his Greta, a term of endearment Tommy couldn’t imagine his Clara willingly coming to on her own, she’d heard it first from Polly.

“No, Clara. No, she is not,” Tommy answered after a shaky breath and a pause.

Clara sat herself up, a determined frown on her face, a fresh wetness in her eyes threatening to spill on her face. She reached out and wiped away the tear on her brother’s cheek.

“No more tears, Tommy. She wouldn’t want you to be sad. She’s like the leaves now.”

It was the same sentiment they had repeated to the twins any time they’d asked about their mother’s death, some sentimental words he’d given them about people leaving, like leaves on autumn trees.

And Tommy hadn’t even told her that Greta had died.

Clara just knew.

Eyes closed, Tommy shook his head, more in disbelief than anything else. He hadn’t wanted to smile, didn’t think he’d be able to, but at Clara’s words he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re a good girl, Clara,” Tommy said. “A good girl who needs to get some rest.”

“But you still hurt?” she asked, resting her hand flat over Tommy’s heart. “Right here?”

Tommy nodded. “That’s why I need you to help me get some rest.”

“To heal the hurt?”

Tommy nodded. “Can you do that?” he asked, his question rendered unnecessary by the fact that Clara had already gone for the end of the bed, retrieving the blanket left there and pulling it over them both before reaching across him to put out the light.

“You sleep now, Tommy. You need to rest.”

Little Lady Blinder Masterlist

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#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!sister #shelby sister #tommy shelby #greta jurossi #clara shelby

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