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entername322 · 1 month

Text

It takes two

Chaewon (ex Izone, Le Sserafim) x Male Reader x Minju (ex Izone)

Length: 10383 words

Previous part

What is the difference between love and obsession? For Chaewon the two are basically the same. How can you love someone without being overly obsessed with them? Whatever feeling she had for her ex is, insignificant. You have shown her what love is, what it truly means to be mutually in love. “Chae, can you let me go?” At least that's what she thinks, “No pup, I'm spending the whole night like this, whether you like it or not”, Chae continues hugging you. It's been a few hours since the two of you had sex, now that your mind is clear the first thing that comes into your mind is to contact Minju. Unfortunately Chaewon has wrapped her limbs around you like you are some kind of body pillow and has refused to let go.

“Chae I need to go”, That's not a very appealing argument, “You don't NEED to go anywhere. You belong here, it's been a long day isn't it? Just rest up baby, I've ordered our food already”, Chae peck your lips, giving you a sense of urgency. It feels like, for every second you're here with her, you're just gonna fall deeper and deeper into the abyss. “No, I need to talk with mom. I have dinner with her”, It's very odd, even though you've gained considerable muscle mass, your body would just get easily overpowered by her. “Baby, do you love your mom more than your own wife?” Say yes pussy, bet you won't, “No, it's just that….. she's my mom. She misses me as much as you do”, Called it.

“So what? You're a grown up now babe, you should stop being a mommy's boy. Unless you're into that type of stuff, then I'll be glad to be your mommy”, You struggle so hard to not get an erection from her words. Hard, get it? “Come on Chae, you know she's important to me. Besides you owe her for saving you did you not?” Chae frowns realising you're right. Also your mom is scary, so as a good daughter-in-law Chae will try her best to please her. “Hmpffff, I already ordered some food. But fine, go get dinner with your mom, after that you'll come back right to me. I want you to cuddle with me and feed me okay?” Chae let go of her hug just so she can hold you by the neck. “I….. I'll see later, okay Chae? Mom and I have a long conversation to make”, Chae's eyes darted around trying to dissect your expression to see if anything is off.

“You. Will. Come. Back. To. Me. Tonight.” Every word spoken with venom, and it might be your imagination, but you can feel her hands constrict around your neck. “Okay, I'll try”, Not good enough, “If you don't come back tonight, I will lock you up in here myself”, That is a good sign for you to never come back here. “Okay, I promise”, A smile forms on her face, “Good, then why don't I help you wash up before you meet your mom? I'll help you pick your clothes'', Chae pulls you up from the bed. “I…… I can shower by-”, Chae wouldn't let you finish your sentence and just kiss you. It's effective, you're half starstruck by her kiss and half guilty for all this. “I think you're just being shy. Come on baby you already saw my naked body”, Chae sees your silence and feels victorious, “Okay, but don't do anything funny Chae. I'm drained”, She frowns a little but she understands, for now.

Chae did not in fact do anything funny in the showers, she simply enjoys your body by caressing it a little but she never does anything more than that. “Okay, I want you to call me once you're there, and call me once you finish dinner okay? If you forgot to call me I'm gonna have to punish you after you come home”, Chae gives you an ultimatum, “Okay Chae, I'll see you later”, A quick kiss for good luck and she sends you off. Now where do you go from here? “Mom, I'm gonna be spending the night at Minju's place okay?” Would Minju be able to protect you better than your mom? “Haaaaaa, you spend 20 something years being confined in home and now you have a girlfriend and you don't even bother to greet your mom?” She doesn't sound that mad, “Sorry mom, I just forgot time while hanging out with Chae and I need to talk to Minju”, Hopefully it won't be the last time you ever talk to Minju. “Fine, but I want you to come back home tomorrow and tell me everything about her. Don't make your mom meet your girlfriend when I don't know a single thing about her”, You should do that, if Minju decides to let go.

“You know, you have some nerve ignoring me for almost the whole day”, Minju frowned at you the moment you got to her apartment, “Oh sorry, I just got carried away”, It's hard, it's really hard to face her right now. “Well come in, don't be a stranger. I hope you like the place, I haven't had time to clean it up”, Minju grabs your hand and pulls you in. The whole place is nice, but you don't really get to enjoy it as your heart is being eaten alive by guilt. “I'm too lazy to go outside babe, let's order some take out. I hope my favourite ramen place hasn't closed yet while we're gone”, Minju pushes you to the couch before laying on top of you.

“Minju……. I have something to tell you”, Minju raises her head while looking at you curiously, “It's about Chaewon. Something happened today”, Your whole body is shaking while your heart might just burst any moment. This confrontation isn't something you've thought through. “Babe? What happened today?” You suddenly feel her hand touching your face, unlike the usual warm and inviting sensation you only feel chill running down your spine. It's rare, but there are times when Minju would outright terrify you with her gaze, this is one of those times. “I don't know what happened to her but-”, Minju grabs your mouth shutting you up, her mouth is smiling but her eyes are, well they're just blank.

“I don't care about what happened to her. I want to know what she did to you. Did she hurt you again baby?” Minju turns her body around, now laying on top of you face to face. “I…..” Just from your demeanour alone she can tell what happened, which angers her. Without waiting for your answer her hand ripped open your shirt to expose your chest that has been filled with new hickeys. “Baby, were you cheating on me?” Her hand lowers to your throat, much like how Chae did today, “I didn't mean to. But she just keep pushing herself on me and I-” Lied, you lied because truthfully you got lost in the moment and accepted her advances. “Oh? That whore raped you?” You flinch hearing Minju's accusations, “I mean, I'm not sure if it could be considered as one”, You're torn apart from trying to tell her that you cheated on her, while also trying to shift the blame from yourself. Honestly, this might end worse if you don't come clean, fully clean.

“No, no, no, no, no, no baby. If you don't want that to happen then it's rape, but if you do then it's cheating. So did she rape you or did you cheat on me?” For the second time in your life you are being strangled. Weird how both happen on the same day and by the two girls you hold dear to your heart. “It’s complicated, okay babe? She's confused and-”, Now this is an interesting strategy, trying to shift the blame from yourself and Chae by acting like she is insane. “I don't fucking care about what she is, all I'm asking is did she or did she not rape you?” Minju takes away your right to breathe. “Baby please”, You gurgled out, “No, say it. Did she rape you?” Fuck maybe Minju is just as insane as Chae is. Hey at least she has a good reason to, you're her boyfriend after all.

“Minju please, I have known her for so long and I know she's not right in the head right now. Please I'm really sorry for what happened today but I don't want her to-”, The answer is still inadequate for her, so she choke you again. “Baby….”, You tried to free yourself from her hand but it's really pointless, just like with Chae, your body just refuses to go against Minju. “It's been a long day baby. Let's rest up”, Minju whispers in your ears as everything fades to black.

The next day, you woke up with a headache, as you tried to get up you felt Minju resting on top of you. “Where are you going?” She is also woken up due to your sudden movement. “What? Where am I?” You try your best to recall what happened last night. “Hmmm? You're in our bed baby, just lay down and rest okay? It's still midnight”, It's not the next day, and it's not a good time to rest up. “Minju, I….”, Go on, protest about what just happened earlier last night, “What? Is your throat hurting baby? I'm sorry I guess I just got ‘carried away’, you know how it is”, Minju stares at you with some disdain in her eyes.

“I know I fucked up, I'm sorry. I understand if you want to-”, Your words interrupted by a sudden pain in your chest, “You think you can just cheat on me and leave me? You're gonna have to make it up to me babe”, Well, you're not really ready to break up with her from your mistake. However the way she says that makes you think that it's better to break up with her. “Baby….. I cheated on you”, All it takes is just a near death experience for you to say that, “I know, and I'm not over that, in fact I don't think that I will be over that anytime soon. But let's not forget, she raped you”, Talking about Chae, she must be furious with the fact that you went off grid.

“No Minju, i-”, Minju shut you up with a kiss, it's really, unsettling. The kiss feels like how Chae-, okay what is up with you? Why do you keep comparing her to Chae? Do you actually have feelings for Chaewon? “She's still in your mind isn't she?” Minju also notices it, “I’m sorry”, You can almost hear a snapping sound, as if a rope just got ripped from a heavy tension. “Baby”, She touches your cheek again making you pull back out of fear, “Sssshhhh, I'm not mad”, You didn't pick up on it, but she's telling the truth. Minju is not mad at all.

“Minju I just don't think I'm really over Chae. I'm sorry okay? I never want to hurt you, I guess I treated you like a rebound girl and I only realised it now. Today, when I saw Chae again I felt like I just got hit by a truck of memories. Maybe I am just pathetic like that, but I don't want to drag you down with me. Yeah I know Chae probably finds me to be a rebound guy as well, but i just can't let go of her. So I'm sorry, but I think I'm just a hopeless romantic who keep chasing someone I can never get”

Minju stays quiet for a while, it's the type of silence you've never seen from her before. She has always been cheerful and chatty, so seeing her in this state made you realised you really fucked up. You fucked up a promising relationship that could've and should've been a better option than whatever the hell is going on between you and Chae. “Oh baby, I do think you're pathetic”, That's harsh, but you deserve it. “Which is why I can't be mad at you. How can I be mad at a dog who is loyal to it's master”, What the fuck? Since when has Minju become so mean? “Minju, I'm sorry. I deserve that”, Is she mean though? Or is she just speaking facts?

“It's okay baby, I see what's happening now. I fell in love with a slave who has grown to love the collar that's hanging around his neck”, A kiss to your cheek, filled with so many sinister thoughts. You being you, only think it as her anger, completely missing the darkness within it. “Of course as a nurse I can't just sit still when someone needs my help”, You acknowledge that you need help, but it feels like she's talking about a different kind of help. “Minju, what are you talking about?” She leans in and kisses you again, her hands grab both of yours and push it against the bed. It feels wrong, but you can't pull away.

“Listen baby, whatever she's done to you, it's much worse than I expected. I was thinking that she must've hurt you a lot after all those years of leading you on. Now, I realised she has left a permanent mark in my man's heart. So I'll help you get away from her. After all if I want all of you I will need you to be in one piece, with no part of you being clutched by her”

You stare at her with confusion, what the hell is she talking about? “Haaaaa, what I mean is I'll help you get over her okay? Like an adult would, by having a….. civil conversation”, In your confused state you completely miss the ambiguous tone she uses on the last two words. “No Minju, I don't want to make things even harder for you okay?” You plead, “Ssshhh, I know you're too kind for your own good. That Chae girl really means a lot to you right? So let's have a talk with her tomorrow. I'll be there and make sure nothing bad happens. Relax baby, I'm not blaming you, for now. Your kindness is why I love you after all”, This isn't how you expect things to turn out.

“Baby I don't know what to say”, Do you want to get over Chae? Or is she way too deeply rooted in your heart? “Let's do that okay baby? I'll accompany you to her place at lunch, then we can go to dinner with your mom. Perfect right?” Absolutely foolproof plan one might add. “You don't have to do that”, Whatever feeling you have in your heart you just label it as guilt. Despite it actually being a plea for salvation. Nothing good can come out of the lunch. Chae's domineering attitude alongside Minju’s sudden change of heart would just clash too much. But if you don't know then you don't know, hopefully you're ready for tomorrow.

“I, need to have breakfast with my mom first if you want to have dinner with her later”, Minju smiles and shrug, “I'll drop you off at her place then, and I'll pick you up after”, You look around to search for your phone, let's see how Chae will react to this. “Looking for your phone?” Minju pulls it out of the locked bedside cabinet, why does she put it there? “Yes maybe I should tell Chae first”, Minju gives it to you, but only after she pulls you into her embrace so that she can watch over your phone.

The first thing you notice is the 40 missed calls alongside 100+ texts from Chae. “It seems like she must've been as hopeless as you are'', Minju kisses your cheek while you open the wall of texts Chae has sent you. “I, feel worried about her”, Chae is not in the right state of mind, you get that, but you didn't expect her to turn so drastically out of nowhere. As you open your chat messages, Chae can see you have read them, so she instantly called you. “Answer it babe, put it on speaker”, Don't do it, “Okay”, You fucking idiot.

“WHERE ARE YOU PUP? I TOLD YOU TO COME HOME AFTER DINNER AND IT'S ALREADY WELL PAST MIDNIGHT. COME. HOME. NOW!!!!” Chae's voice blares through the speaker, echoing the walls of Minju’s bedroom. “You must be Chaewon right?” Minju answered in a…… friendly manner. Chae stays quiet for a while, “Who is this?” You can almost feel Chae hiss into your ear. “I'm Minju, my boyfriend told me a lot about you”, Chae didn't answer immediately but you could hear a loud crash from the other side. “Chae? What happened?” Of course you being you can't help but feel worried for her. “Babe? What are you doing with that bitch?” You glanced back at Minju, scared of how she would react. Surprisingly there's a meaningful smile hanging in her face, as if she finds this to be enjoyable.

“Oh he's just resting for the night. It's been a long day after all, both of us just got off the plane this morning and we're completely messed up by the jetlag”

“If he want to rest he can rest in his apartment, WITH ME”

“Oh? But it's not his apartment, his home is right here with me”

“Fuck you, where are you pup? I'm picking you up”

“I don't think so. My lovely boyfriend is going to rest for the night so please don't bother us”

“Listen up whore. HE'S NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. Now fuck off and bring him back to me”

“Oh I'm sorry, but I don't think you two are in a relationship”

“We are bitch. So stop taking him away from me”

“Uggghhhh, so crude. You sure this is the same girl you've always talked to me about babe? She's a bad influence for you”

“FUCKER WHERE ARE YOU”

“Now, now, why don't you stop screaming and let me talk for once”

“I'M NOT SPENDING TIME TO HEAR A RANT FROM A WHORE. TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CALL THE COPS”

“The cops? Where are you gonna send them to? You don't know where I live. Where WE live”

“Fucking bitch”

“Listen up Chae, can I call you Chae?”

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

“So Chae, my boyfriend here told me about what you did earlier today”

“So you know he belongs to ME. So stop being a fucking whore and return him to me”

“I must say I feel sad for him. Imagine going home after a year long job and meeting back with your old friend. Then instead of having a wholesome-”

“STOP FUCKING RANTING CUNT”

“Catch-up conversation you just got raped instead. I don't know you Chae, but I feel disappointed at you”

“What rape? It's love, stop lying to yourself. You know he loves me more than you”

“He does? Oh sweetie, are you aware of Stockholm Syndrome? Of course you are, after all you experienced it with your ex don't you?”

“Fuck off, don't put words into his mouth. Our love is pure and strong. It's you who's corrupting him so fuck off”

“I never put words into his mouth, I just make an educated guess”

“Stop this already, tell me where you are before I really lose my patience”

“So feisty. Anyway WE are calling because we want to set up a lunch with you tomorrow. You can do that right?”

“What fucking lunch? He's mine so stop taking him away from me. I swear to god I will tear you apart the moment I see you”

“That's good to hear sweetie, we'll come by tomorrow at lunch, see you tomorrow”

Oh right you're also here. Well most of the time you just cower in fear as the two girls brawl it out. You didn't even do anything when Minju hung up the call and took your phone away from your hand. “That went well right? Let's go back to sleep baby, you have to wake up early to meet your mom tomorrow after all”, Minju turns off your phone and locks it back in her bedside cabinet. Clueless as you are, you at least realise this lunch would end in your death. But what can you do? You can't confront Chae, she will just do whatever she wants with you. You also can't deal with Minju, your stomach would just twist and turn out of guilt for cheating on her. “Y-y-y-yeah, let's”, Your fate is sealed, you will die by tomorrow noon.

“Why are you holding her hand?” From the get go things are already going bad. Chaewon immediately tries to rip you away from Minju’s hand, however Minju wouldn't let go so a vicious tug if war started between the girl with you being the rope. “Enough, can't you see my boyfriend is hurting here?” Minju pulls your face into her embrace. The gesture really terrifies you because, “He's MY boyfriend”, Chaewon would just rip you out of Minju's hand. “Girls please, can we just stop this first?” You're gonna have to do better than that bucko. “Baby I'm trying to protect you from this fucking bitch okay? So just help me then I will stop”, Chae do another pull, “Look at her babe, first she hurt and torture you mentally for years, now she just starts to hurt you physically as well. Guess it's true what they said about the victim turning into the aggressor”, Minju shakes her head while pulling you back into her arms.

“You fucking what?” Chae's face turns sour, “What? Is it not true?” Minju kisses your cheek. “Hey, fuck off”, Chae sends a punch to Minju's face, and for the first time ever your body actually moves to stop her. “Chae”, You raise your voice making her frown even deeper, “See babe? She's insane and violent. You're lucky I'm here to save you”, Minju sighs, “Don't you dare speak another word bitch or I'll rip your face apart”, Chae then turns to you and kisses your other cheek, as an ultimatum of course. “Enough, I promise my boyfriend that I will be here to have a civil conversation with you, so let's have one shall we?” Minju smiles at Chae with confidence, “Fucking fake bitch”, Chae muttered under her breath.

Thankfully Chae does accept the invitation by pulling you, and by proxy Minju as well, to the couch. You sat down being sandwiched by the two of them. Chae's fiery and aggressive aura clashes against Minju's cold and elegant aura. This looks familiar.

“So, Chae”

“Don't you fucking call me that”

“Chae, as you can see. Me and my boyfriend here is having a perfectly beautiful relationship”

“Oh I'm sorry, I think you're having a misunderstanding here. He's my boyfriend and you're getting in between us”

“I'm not a psychiatrist so I'm afraid I can't help you with your delusion. Of course I can refer you to some people who have the ability to help you”

“Delusion? That's rich coming from you. Don't you realise you're just a rebound girl for him?”

“I am? But you see it can't really be classified as a rebound if he's never been in a relationship with you in the first place don't you think?”

“What do you know about us? We have a strong relationship long before you even know him. It's pure and driven by nothing but love”

“I know enough. You two were just friends okay? Your love is being held by your ex boyfriend, how was he by the way? You two made up yet?”

“He’s not important and I do not love him. Don't put words in my mouth”

“Oh? So you were tormenting my poor baby here just for fun?”

“I never tormented him, we were young and clueless. I've already said sorry and he accepted it. Now we are more mature and has open up about our own feelings for each other”

“He doesn't have any feelings for you. Not anymore, after all I'm holding his heart, isn't that right babe?”

“Oh? You just called me an abuser earlier and now you are showing off your true colour. Don't trust this slut babe, she's playing with your heart okay?”

“Did I ever use the word abuser? How could you start putting words in my mouth when you just literally turn furious because you think I put words in your mouth? Are you perhaps a hypocrite?”

“Is that what you're having a problem with right now? Haaaaaa, it's always nice when the person you're arguing against starts talking about semantics. It's a sign that I'm winning”

“Talking about semantics I should make clear that this is not an argument. There's nothing to argue about”

“For the first time I agree with you, there's nothing to argue about. Right babe?” Chae leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“See, we're in agreement already. Did you like her farewell kiss babe? Now this is settled we should go back to our place and prepare for the dinner with your mom”

“Oh I see, you're projecting”

“About what?”

“About my delusion. Because you must be having something wrong with your head if you think I'll let my boyfriend leave with some whore”

“I see now, this is worse than I expected. We should get you to a mental asylum soon. A loss grasp of reality is a sign of schizophrenia”

“You see what she's doing here babe? She's trying to gaslight you. I think she's trying to put on a hero façade to try and hide the fact that she's the abuser here”

“Awww, don't be like that, aren't you weak with a hero complex? That's why you fall for MY boyfriend after all”

“That's true, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a whore and an abuser”

“This feels like a funny joke isn't it babe? You become a hero to save little Chae here from her abusive boyfriend. Now I'm gonna be the hero to save you from her. I think that's karma, or something like that”

“MY boyfriend doesn't need saving from me. Besides if it's karma then it's my turn to save him from you”

You're pathetic, you know that? While these two are fighting it out with words you just sat there like a meek puppy and didn't try to intervene at all. What's that? You're trying to sort out your feelings to pick which one to side with? Well you better hurry up soon or they would probably split you into two just so the other can't have you.

Luna seems to sniff your fear and jumps to sit on your lap. Giving you a cute meow to try and calm you down.

“Oh look, Luna acknowledge her master, and her master's wife”

“Wife? My, my, aren't you moving too quick? Does his mother even know about this relationship? You know my darling here loves his mother more than anything in the world don't you?”

“Of course she does, my mother-in-law would love to have us put on the ring”

“Is that so? Babe isn't your mom a police officer with decades of experience? Maybe I wasn't needed here, after all she would pick up all the red flags your friend here is showing”

“You’re right about one thing. You're not needed here, so why don't you take your pretty fake smile out of here”

The two have a little staring contest for a few seconds before the two of them leap in and hug you. “I think she's hopeless babe, let's just leave before she gets aggressive”, Minju tries her best to pull you away, “She's a manipulative bitch who's trying to steal you away from me babe. You see it right? Her fake smile?” Chae wouldn't let you move. “Stop confusing my boyfriend please”, Minju pulled your head into her embrace, “Your boyfriend?” Chae pulls your head back, almost snapping your neck while she's at it.

This time Chae pulls you into a kiss, trying to show Minju how strong your ‘love’ is for her. Minju wouldn't let Chae have her way and push her away before kissing you. “He’s mine, bitch”, For some reason Chae grabs onto your shirt and rips the button apart. “Are you sexually harassing my boyfriend right in front of me?” Minju scoffed, “See this? It's my mark, he's mine”, Chae pointed at the countless hickeys she left you yesterday. “Sorry to disappoint you sweetie, but I already covered them with my own”, Minju smiled proudly. Whatever is brewing between the two isn't good for you. First, you can feel their frustration against each other start to boil and spill over to their sexual craving. Second, they stop caring about your opinion entirely and just do anything they can to show their ownership over you.

“What are you doing?” Minju finally raises her voice as she sees Chaewon is nibbling on your chest. “He likes it when I bite him. Look at his face”, You are showing a pained expression but the two think you're enjoying it. “I know how to pleasure him better”, The fuck is happening? Like seriously what are they doing? “Can you say any truthful words just once?” Chae rolls her eyes at Minju before making out with you.

Minju pulls down your pants and boxer, exposing your flaccid cock, “Haaaa, he's not even turned on by your advances”, Chae frowns seeing what Minju is doing. “Probably because your ugly ass is here bitch”, Chae tries to grab your cock but Minju slaps her hand away before kissing your cock. “Unlike you, I've been spending a year with him, exploring our body and kinks. I know what he's weak too”, The balls, that's what you're weak too. Minju leans forward and starts kissing your balls making your cock get semi erect involuntarily. “See?” Minju sends Chae a victorious smile, “Move bitch”, Chae pushes Minju away and starts to suck your cock, making you let out a moan, involuntarily as well.

Chae sends a meaningful glare at Minju before she swallows your cock all the way into her throat. How does she manages to do it when she can barely take you in her mouth yesterday? It's the pure power of spite she has towards Minju that pushes her over the max. “Fucking bitch he's mine”, Minju grab Chaewon by the hair and pull her away from your cock. The moment your dick got exposed to the cold air Minju leaps in and effortlessly swallow it down. Minju bobs her head up and down for a few second before Chaewon pull her back and take control of the blowjob.

Minju leans down and starts sucking on your balls, having your weak point attacked makes you let out another moan. “See? I know his weakness”, Minju smiles at Chaewon who just glares at her. “Yeah? My baby loves my body more”, Chae takes off her top and climbs up to you, pushing her tits to your mouth while her hand jerks you off. You try to stop her but the moment you open your mouth she just pushes her tits to your mouth. “Go on baby, I know you like to stare at them for years already”, Just as you thought this whole thing couldn't be more embarrassing.

“Move your hand”, Minju bites Chaewon's hand and starts sucking your cock as Chae lets go. Seeing Chaewon is about to snap, your mouth starts to move and bite on her nipples. It manages to calm her down, but this also means you're encouraging them to continue. “See? He likes me”, Chae starts to caress your hair, Minju takes your cock off her mouth and her hand continues jerking you off. “So you just want to use him to pleasure yourself? Can't say that I'm surprised”, Minju uses both of her hands to jerk you off but her face is scowling. “Just say that you're jealous bitch, we are meant to be”, Chae reached down and tried to take over your cock.

Surprisingly Minju let it go, she crawls on your side and just jerks you off with one hand like Chae. “Come here babe”, With her other hand, Minju pulled you for a kiss. A moan slips out of your mouth feeling their hand start to move together in unison. “I don't think you understand, he's only moaning because he loves my slender little finger”, Chae scoffed before busying herself with your neck. “Deny, deny, deny, is that all you can do?” Minju took a break from kissing you just to bite back before jumping in to kiss you again. This whole thing is too much to you really. Your mind is very conflicted while your body is definitely turned on getting pleasured by the two women you love the most.

“You're cumming baby? Go ahead cum for me”, Chae bites your ear, “I know you've been horny since last night babe. Go on, cum for me”, Minju breaks off the kiss and starts biting your neck. Your body starts to shake as your cum shoots out. Chae has an inhuman reflex and puts her hand over your tip, effectively catching your sperm. After a while your ejaculation passed. Your cum drips down Chae’s hand into your shaft and Minju’s hand that's gripping your cock tight. As you are taking a breather the two girls get possessed by a sudden hunger and start licking your cum off of their hands. When that's not enough they jump down and have a scuffle trying to lick as many as they can from your cock.

“I did that”

“Ha, you wish, it was my kiss that sent him over the edge. He's a softie after all”

“I think you're just projecting a lot, because it seems like you are the delusional one over here”

“If it's not for you he would cum under 5 second by me”

“Tchhh, all barks and no bites”

“I'll prove it to you right now, move bitch”

This couldn't end well for you.

Pain, that's all you can feel right now. Your whole body is drained out of energy. The two of them take turns riding you while trying to prove something to the other one. After the 5th ejaculation you just pass out on the couch. Maybe it's a blessing because the two went to a loud argument blaming the other for masking you like this for an hour or so.

“Fuck”, You grunted as your conscious starts to come back to you. A heavy weight was out on top of both of your hands, looking around you realised the two are sleeping with you, each holding your arm. You're still in Chaewon's apartment, the room that you've lived in for years has turned to the worst. This is the second time you woke up here being held against your will after a mind-blowing sex that was forced upon you.

What is happening? Why am I falling into this? I never asked for this, at all.

This whole thing is too much, you already have your guilt eating you alive after the cheating sex you had with Chaewon yesterday. Then you confront Minju about it and change her into this, you're not really sure what she turns into. Lastly, this whole lunch went way off the rail. You didn't even get lunch, the two of them do by drinking your cum while you just flop around like a fish.

Fuck why is this happening to me?

You don't like this?

No way, I didn't ask for this.

Did you ever ask for this not to happen?

Huh?

You never asked for this but it's not like you take a stand and pick one of them.

It's all happening in one day. I don't have time to sort out my feelings.

That's true, but this whole thing could've been avoided if you just took a stand. Stop Chaewon before she pulls you to the bed yesterday. Break up with Minnie or even ghost him like an asshole. Or just simply stop their argument earlier before they start fucking you. It's really simple, pick one and they will protect you from the other.

Fuck, is it my fault?

Not fully, let's be real this two are fucked in the head.

Fuck it's all my fault.

Uhhhhh, are you also going insane?

Fuck why did I let this happen?

Minju and Chaewon are deep in their sleep, they are also tired after all. Chae can't sleep the whole night as she's worried about you. Minju was restless and angry about your cheating, making her sleep less than ideal. So they don't get woken up when you get off the bed and put on your clothes. Standing there in your room, you watch the two girls sleep peacefully. You look at their face with a twisting pain in your heart, they look so peaceful that you feel guilty for bringing this storm to their life.

I need to fix this.

That's true you should take a sta-

I need to leave them.

Wait what?

I did this to them. If I'm not around, they won't be tormented by me.

Oh come on stop this drama queen act.

I'm sorry, Chae. I'm sorry, Min. This is all my fault.

Are you seriously crying?

Please be safe.

Dude, you just ran away for a year because you got heartbroken. Are you seriously trying to run away again because of this? Even if you can literally fix this by being a FUCKING GROWN UP and just pick one.

Dear god, you're hopeless. Once again, you run away from your home, trying to get away from all these conflicting emotions that you have. You ran all the way to your mom's home again. It's so fucking stupid, you've been in this position before and this is how you react? After a year of some self finding journey you return back at home without changing at all. You didn't lose your feelings for Chae. You didn't mature and find the courage to stand up for yourself. You didn't do jackshit.

Anyway, enough ranting. You return home, your mom is still out there at work so it's empty. You ran back to your bedroom, dropping yourself to your bed trying to calm yourself. Maybe you did something while you're out there, you managed to fix your terrible physical health and run all the way here without completely exhausting your body. That being said, you are mentally drained, so the moment your body touches the bed you just drift off to sleep. Like usual, you refuse to confront your feelings and run away from your responsibility.

This time, the consequences will be dire.

“Look what you did, you made him run away again. Goddamnit slut I just got him back and now he's ruining off again”, Chaewon screams at Minju. “ME? You were the one who caused him to run away last time, what makes you think that it's not your fault this happens again?” Minju screamed back. “If I could kill you right now I will”, Chae stares at Minju with a gaze that could kill, it would definitely kill you if she uses it on you. “Fuck off, I've had it with you and your antics. I tried to keep up a nice attitude-”, Chae wouldn't let Minju finish her words, “I fucking knew it, fucking fake bitch”, Chae screams.

“Shut up you”, For the first time, a physical scuffle breaks out. Well calling it a scuffle would be a reach, Minju simply slaps Chae to shut her up. “Oh try that again, please I'm begging you”, Chae isn't mad over the slap, her fury is already over the top. She does feel excited as she can try to beat Minju up and call it self defence if Minju tries to touch her again. “Can’t you fucking see what you're doing right now? Do you really think he only finds me to be his rebound girl?” Minju restrains herself from sending another slap.

“What am I doing? Bitch open your eyes”

“Stop for a second and think will you? Why do you think he ran away?”

“Because you're confusing him”

“Wrong, it's you who's confusing him. The details aren't important right now. What's important is that you make him feels conflicted”

“Like I said, he won't feel conflicted if you're not here”

“Do you actually think that would solve the problem?”

“Yes, fuck off and leave us alone”

“Oh you absolute buffoon. If your ‘love’ or so you call it is so strong, then why hasn't he stood up for you?”

“Tcch, you manipulated him until he can't think straight anymore”

“You really can't see what I'm trying to say, do you?”

“What? Stop being so fucking cryptic you fake bitch. Just spill it already”

“He can't choose between us”

“That's stupid”

“He's stupid”

“He's my boyfriend!”

“So you think he's smart?”

“........fuck off”

“Unlike you I actually care about him”

“What makes you think I don't huh?”

“Because you're more focused on making him yours rather than making him happy”

“Wrong!!!! I know how to make him happy, it's to grant him his wish that he has been holding on for years”

“Does he know that? Because as far as I remember you had a ‘date’ with him yesterday and yet he's busy texting me the whole time isn't he?”

Chaewon finally understands what Minju is going at, and she hates it.

“Are you actually saying that you managed to steal a piece of his heart already?”

Minju sighs seeing Chaewon finally getting her.

“I hate it, I hate the fact that I fall for someone who's still being chained up by you”

“You think I'm happy seeing him run off for a year and get taken by you?”

“I love him, more than anything in the world”

“I would die for him, and I would kill you if he ever asked me to”

“So do you understand what I'm saying now?”

Minju and Chaewon look at each other with animosity. It was as if they're trying to manifest the hatred they have in their heart to hurt the other person. Yet there's this hint of understanding between them. Sometimes, one must compromise in order to achieve their desire. Even if they absolutely loathe what they have to give up for it.

“I fucking hate you”

“The feeling is mutual”

“But if this is what it takes to keep him happy”

“Then I'll…… tolerate you”

“Yeah, tolerate”

“Peace, for now”

The two reluctantly reach out their hand with a look of disdain in their face. Then the two shake hands, creating a temporary alliance. An alliance that could prove to be detrimental to your mortality.

“He ran off to his mom. He always do”

“I need to fix that momma's boy attitude of his”

“That's my job”

“Where is his mom's place? We have a dinner with her later”

“Fuck if his mom notice anything wrong he's gonna take him away from me”

“From us”

“I'm coming to the dinner”

“Can you even put on a smile when I'm around”

“I can manage if you're not in my field of view”

“Fine, but if things goes wrong-”

“It won't, not let's move. His mom should be home in an hour. It's best that we get to him before her”

“Let's move then”

“Oy!” A loud scream woke you up from your sleep, it was followed by a painful slap to your back. “Agggghhhh, mom?” You grunted as you tried to wake up. “Why are you sleeping here?” You had such a nice and peaceful sleep, shame that you have to be woken up by reality. “Oh, well, it's a long story”, You grimaced remembering what happened earlier today. “God how on earth did I raise you for you to become like this?” Should you run away from your mom as well? “Sorry mom, there's a change of plan for the dinner today”, Your hand starts to get fidgety. “I know”, Your hand stopped, you look at her confused.

Did Minju contact mom? Oh god did Chaewon contact mom?

“W-w-w-what?” You managed to say, “Minju and Chaewon are already downstairs. Now go wash yourself and join us at the dinner table”, You can feel your heart just stop beating for a moment there. You look at your mom completely surprised and scared, too distracted with what she just said to register her slap to your head and her words to hurry up as she leaves your bedroom.

Chae and Min are here? What are they doing here? Oh god why are they here? Mom's gonna kill me if she hears what I did yesterday and today.

You sat on your bed for what felt like hours, despite only 5 minutes passed. Reluctantly you get off your bed and wash your face. Good, face your fears. Face your emotions and the consequences of your actions. Stop being a fucking pussy that run away from everything and everyone. It took you 10 minutes to gather your courage. Finally you take a deep breath and make your way to the battlefield.

““Hey oppa””

That is not the sound of a battlefield. They also don't look like they're preparing for war. Perhaps, this isn't a war, but maybe it would be much worse. “Stop standing there and sit down will you?” Your mom sighs seeing your stunned face. As you love to the dinner table the two girls pull you to sit down between them. Silence persists for some time before your mom starts to distribute the food. “We really want to try and cook something for dinner ma'am, but we kinda forgot time. I hope you'll like the food we bought”, Chae says, “It's fine, it sounds like my son just decided to sleep instead of preparing dinner for us after all”, Your mom glares at you.

“I-i-i-i-”, Don't know what to say. For a second you're considering the possibility that this is just a dream. “Oh, babe is just tired after last night. It was my fault, I'm sorry”, Minju squeezed your hand to make sure you know it's not a dream, “Yeah, I think I also drained him yesterday”, Chae followed suit by pinching your cheek. “It's fine, I know this restaurant, they have pretty nice ramen”, Your leg starts to fidget around making Minju and Chaewon reach down and squeeze it.

“So, Minju right? I've heard a few thing about you”

“Really ma'am? What did babe say about me?”

“Just call me mom or something. You too Chaewon, how many times have I told you to stop calling me ma'am”

“Ooppps, sorry ma'am. Can I call you mom as well then?”

“I guess he does leave you to be babysitted by me”

Chae shows a prideful smile for a second to Minju before turning to her food.

“So it seems like the two of you have spent more time with him since his return than me. Why don't you start to talk sweetie? First tell me why you never brought up that these two are sisters?”

They are?

“What?”

Both Chae and Minju kicked your leg lightly hearing your panicked voice. They exchanged a glance before nodding.

“We also don't know that. Babe never talks much about Chaewon. I mean he told me about her but I never made the connection”

“Yeah, and Minju never send me a letter for a full year”

“Oh please you never want to hear from me for years already”

“Well that's true, but can't you at least contact me before you run away like that again?”

A new theory has come inside your head. Perhaps you got transported into a different universe.

“Sweetie, you never think about telling me this?”

Your mom forces you to stop imagining things and snap back to reality.

“W-w-w-w-well, I didn't had the time”

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

That's a pretty long sigh, something you know means your mom is absolutely way too tired to deal with anything.

“I'm sorry……. mom. I got too excited yesterday since he got home after a year of no contact. I just drag him across town to have a makeover”

“See? You prefer spending time with him over your own sister”

Why the fuck would they actually lied and acted like they're sister?

“Well, maybe you should contact me first? You just text me today asking if you can move in with me”

Oh, that's why.

“Move in with you?”

“Oh right, uhhhhh my apartment lease is already up. I was thinking about staying with Chae here for a while until I find another one. Of course, the world is small and we found out that she's staying at babe’s previous apartment”

“Yeah, the apartment is pretty big, so we can definitely share it for now”

“Of course, just a temporary arrangement as we-” Minju grabs your hand “-adjust to our normal lifestyle and find a new one”

Your mom was about to say something until she heard some tapping from below the table.

“What is that?”

She tries to look below the table but Chae stops her.

“Oh pup is just being nervous as usual”

“Hehehe, he's kinda scared about the living arrangements. But I'm sure we'll be fine, right babe?”

Chaewon reaches out to pat your head while Minju is gently caressing your hand. Beneath the table their leg went on top of yours to stop it from moving.

“Uh yeah…… this feels….. awkward”

The word you're looking for is worrisome or terrifying, but you realise the two would absolutely shred you if you keep acting weird.

“I imagine so. Well Minju, seeing my son is absolutely trapped in his own anxiety, why don't you tell me more about yourself. I want to know how my son can get his hand on someone who's way out of his own league”

“Hahahaha, you're too kind, mom. Well it starts when we meet on the plane…..”

In a way, it's kinda good that Minju takes the attention away from you. However this means Chae gets to do some bold stuff to you. Chae caress your thighs and occasionally get higher and grab your junk, right at the dinner table. Many times you tried to stop her, yet it just made her attack even more relentless.

“Babe, can you show me where the bathroom is?” Minju has been noticing Chae's shenanigans and decides she needs to stop it. “Right, follow me”, The two girls send a glare at each other for a second before you guide Minju away. “So, why did you never tell me that you have a sister?” Your mom isn't stupid, she smells something fishy going on. “Well she's not exactly around for that long…….”

While Chae is making up some bullshit at the dinner table, you are being pinned down to the bathroom’s wall by Minju. “Min, what's happening right now?” The sight of your panicked face really makes Minju believe this is a right decision. “Listen baby, it's a long story. For now just know that me and Chaewon aren't in a hostile relationship. I'll tell you more about it later but for now be a good boy for me and stop acting so scared in front of your own mom”, Minju gently caresses your cheek, enjoying the power she has over you. “What does that supposed to mean? Mina I…… I left you and you two were-” Minju shut you up by holding your lips with her fingers. “I'm not over that babe. I don't like it that you just ran away from us”, She gave your cheek a little slap which made you wince.

“For now just be a good boy and follow our lead okay? If Chae starts groping you again I'm gonna cover for you this time”, Do you really want to return to the dinner table? Looking at Minju, defying her words might be the worst option, so you reluctantly follow her back. “Sorry about that, so where were we?” Minju returns and takes control of the conversation again. Chae still tries to tease you but Minju keeps getting in her way starting a little scuffle at the dinner table. Fortunately your mom was too tired to notice anything. “You must be tired mom. You should go get rest, we….. also need some rest”, As per usual you just keep speaking out loud your concerns.

“Yeah, that might be for the best”, Your mom said, making the two girls nod happily. “Please have a nice rest mom”, Chae says while her face is beaming with a smile, “Thank you for the dinner invitation, I hope we'll meet again soon mom”, Minju also has a smile on her face. “Yeah, be careful on the way home”, The two then practically drag you out of there before you get to say anything else to your mom.

“Did you tell him?” Chae put one hand on your cheek while looking at Minju, “I think we should tell him in our apartment”, Minju follows suit, trapping you between them. “There is no we, and you're not part of the apartment”, Chae scoffed, “Just stop doing that will you?” Minju and Chae exchange a heated glare before they continue walking, dragging you along with them. It feels like this apartment is just a coffin for you. In just two days years of memories are washed away and replaced by depressing experiences. The two sat you down at your bed, or perhaps from now on it's also their bed.

“Alright, who goes first?” Chae said to Minju, “Oh? Thank you for asking, why don't you go first?” You can't really tell if the two of them are being polite or just trying to piss the other off. “Well, babe, we have come to a conclusion. I think our fights are hurting you, and we don't like that. We never meant to hurt you pup”, Their touch, it's no longer warm and inviting like it used to, now everytime they touch you your body just starts to wince and shiver in fear. “We mean it, we love you babe more than anything”, The two hold your face together, making sure you can't look away from their crazed eyes. “We love you, and we know that forcing you to choose one of us would be too much for you”, Their other hand starts to caress your body, hoping they can arouse you for another round.

“So we decided that a truce is needed. We'll tolerate each other, as long as you're happy, we're happy”, Say no, say this isn't the happy ending you wanted. Say something goddamnit. “That's right pup, I know you can never say no. Even if I manage to get you to choose me you're just gonna get all broody and stuff for hurting this girl”, There's still some animosity between them, “If I manage to get you then you're also gonna get all depressed for hurting this close friend of yours. So I propose to her a simple truce, and we'll see how it goes from here”, Don't make any mistake. If you do this thing, it's gonna blow up right on your face.

“But, why?” You cautiously ask, “Because you are too scared to make a choice”, Did you near that? Did you fucking hear that? “I-i-i-i-i-” You just stutter like an idiot. “I think it's a bad trait of yours, however I decided to love you, because the universe makes me fall for you babe. So I'll love you regardless of your imperfections” Is this lucky or unlucky? “But, why me? Why are you two going this far for me?” You struggle to understand their point of view. “Haaaa, you're so stupid sometimes pup” Chae grabs your cheek, her eyes filled with playfulness, “Don't insult our boyfriend, but she's right babe, sometimes you're just so clueless” Minju's finger gently draw around your chest.

“Minju please” You know what she wants, you can see it in her eyes, “Come on babe, I know you can squeeze out one more round” It was less of a request and more of a demand. “No please, I'm still dying here” Once again you curse yourself for not having the spine to stand up to them. You pathetically try to flail around as Chaewon and Minju start to undress you. “See? Just one round babe, to seal the deal with this new arrangement” Minju smiles as she pulls down your pants and sees your half erect cock. “Hey, if we drain him he won't run away again” Chae smiles and unbutton your shirt, “Girls please” You try to plead, “Ssshhhh, just let it happen” Chae whispers in your ear.

Minju gently kisses around your balls trying to get you hard while Chaewon shoves her tits into your face, but you were too tired. “It's not working, ugghhh, seems like you need a little more stimulation babe” Chae and Minju exchange a glance before they start working. “What-” You tell as you feel Chae plays around your nipple, “It's my turn to now pup” She smiles. Minju on the other hand starts rimming you, sending her tongue to slither into your hole and hungrily make out with it. It works, the stimulation immediately sends your cock into its prime form.

“I always knew you'll like this babe” Minju smiles before she goes back to rimming you, her hand starts stroking your cock while her eyes are staring at you. Chae moves to sit behind you, pulling your face down to be smothered by her tits while her hands are just teasing your nipples.

This feels, wrong. You're not one to kinkshame but this whole situation makes you feel like you're just being used. Like you're just some kind of a toy for them to play with. “Stop it please”, You whimpered but the two of them just smiled because in their eyes you're just too cute when you are like this. “Are you gonna switch or what?” Chae says, Minju sends her a disapproving look before pulling away and nods. Chae lets you go and crawl beneath you, taking Minju's place. Minju decides that she needs to take this further. Pulling your head down to rest between her thighs before she squeezes you with them.

“I know you're such a sub, do my thighs feel good babe? I see that you have a certain type with girls” She smiles at you before eyeing Chaewon, Chae nods agreeing but then she just focuses back on making out with your hole. Her slender hands grab your legs and spread them apart, trying to push her face deeper into you. “Jeez Chae really like that huh? Let me pick up her slacks then” Minju stop squeezing your face because she needs her leg to love around as she gave you a footjob.

“Fuck, please stop this” Maybe in a different time this would feels heavenly for you. However right now every single stimulation and touch feels like hell. Your body is burning up and your cock is dying already. “Awwww, we can't let you get blue balls babe, you're so close to finishing after all. Here let me help make this quick” Minju crawl on top of you before she takes your cock into her mouth. Chaewon also stops rimming you and just teases your balls, lightly biting on it and sucking it around.

It took roughly 30 seconds before you feel your ejaculation is due, Chaewon and Minju also feel it. They work together to kiss and lick around your cock as the last drop of your sperm spurt out. “Awwww, I guess he really is too tired huh” You can hear Chae whines, “Well if you don't want to I'll gladly take them” Minju said.

The two exchange a look before they start cleaning out the cum from your cock. While you were laying there on your bed, completely out of it the two had a heated exchange. You completely miss the beautiful view of them licking each other's face trying to clean every last drop of your cum. “You're enjoying this aren't you?” Minju smiles seeing Chaewon’s face, “Hey I'm only doing this because pup tastes nice” Chaewon frowns. “He does, shame that we're gonna have to let him rest for now” Minju sighs and gives your cock one last kiss, “This is so addicting, but I'll try to calm down for now. Hopefully as time goes on pup gonna build up his stamina” Chae also kisses your cock before the two move to snuggle with you.

“Sorry pup, we just want a little celebration for our new arrangement” Chae smiles seeing your exhausted face, “That's right, we promise we'll play nice from now on’ Minju laughs as well. “I…….” Goddamn you're actually dying aren't you? “Also before we go and meet your mom today we pick up something” Chae took something out of the box on the bedside table. It was a handcuff, rather two handcuffs, “We don't like it when you run away like that babe” Minju pinch your ear, “And you did it to me twice already. So I'm not taking any chances” Chae put one on her hand and yours before handing the other one to Minju, “This might be a little uncomfortable babe, but we're sure we can get used to it soon” Minju also did the same with your other hand.

There is absolutely no more doubt, you are their prisoner from now on. Kinda funny that you ran away from Chae to break free from your chain to her. Now you come back and turn your you never did break free, and you got another chain on you. “Good night pup, I'm sure everything will turn for the better from now on” Chae kisses your cheek before snuggling to you, “I think so too, we'll take care of you babe, good night” Minju does the same thing. As the two slowly drift off to sleep a single tear falls down your eyes.

I'm so fucking pathetic.

#kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #izone smut #le sserafim smut #chaewon smut #minju smut #male reader

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k4katsujin · 11 months

Text

falling asleep with hobie brown! (sfw)

huge thanks to @michelleart8 for helping me choose

huuhhh title pretty self explanatory lmao

idk if i'll make this with other characters but like

yea :3

(half fully written fic half headcanons ?) (yknow what i'll do both)

bit of hurt comfort towards the hug scene? idk

also reader and hobie are in an implied established relationship

(word count: 250/300)

it was one of the many nights you spent waiting for hobie to come back home. with the two of you being spider people, you had a very few moments together.

but it didn't stop you from being in love.

coming home later than your boyfriend, or at least you thought you did, you took endless precautions to not make any noise. (which tbh doesn't make any sense tbh let's js say you're a quiet person)

just in case, you know, he did come home earlier than you...

the first thing that hit you as soon as you entered your appartment was that the window - which you often left open when you sleep so that your boyfriend could sneak in without waking you up - was closed.

you didn't pay it no mind as you thought it was the wind.

you headed to the bathroom to get into your pyjamas, where actually were one of hobie's old t'-shirts- which smell reminds you of home.

you then go to the kitchen to get a midnight snack, your all time favorite.

as you turned around, you notice the presence of your boyfriend.

"hobie? is something wrong?" you ask as you run to hug him.

he gave in the hug, shoving his head into your shoulder.

"so... tired... " he mutters, "glad i'm home..."

it was no surprise: the pressure of being a spider-person was extremely high. even though hobie tried his best to hide it, but even he needed to let it out sometimes.

(time for hcs bc idk how to truly describe the scene + it'll be easier)

i feel like he takes all the room there is on the bed like he'd be in some starfish position

somehow you're always touching him whether he's the big spoon or with your head on his chest or his arm around your shoulders

if you're scared of storms he would hug you close and confort you

"it's ok honey, it can't hurt you as long as i'm with you"

he plays with your hair when he can't fall asleep and wonders how non black people's hair work

if you're black/ a person of color he'd go like "ooo their hair is so cool :0

he secretely likes being the little spoon but he never asks for it

"ya can't sleep huh? want me to sing a sothing melody for ya?" (don't judge i have no idea how british people talk)

he always asks you if he can move if you're laying on him - if you're asleep he just doesn't

I KNOW HE WOULD CONFORT YOU IF YOU HAD A NIGHTMARE

"y'had a bad dream ? c'mhere i'll comfort you"

he braids your hair when he can't fall asleep

idk i feel like he only feels at peace in smalls moments like this when he's with you

also when the two of you can't sleep he plays you songs on his accoustic guitar (idk i feel like he's been given one when he was a kid and that's how he started learning)

maybe holding hands under the blankets? also you conforting him after a very tiring day he'd have his head on your lap and he'd fall asleep like that

he probably pushed you out of the bed more than once

"what the fuck are you doing on the floor??" but then he'd know it's his fault and js laugh about it

that's all i got for now i think i'm v tired atm i'll probably edit this later or do a part tO but like xdd hope you enjoyed ;3

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randombush3 · 1 month

Text

revocate animos (with or without me)

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two, part three, part four

the second half of this part (it didn't fit in one post lol)

words: it's over 14k. i had lots to say.

summary: the final part, which originally had a different ending but i was told it was evil so i changed it.

warnings: it's mainly just sad, there's a bit of smut though

notes: i could give you so many excuses as to why this is being posted now but no one wants to read that so i'll just say sorry x

anyway, i got very lost along the way at points and had some serious plot crises that had me tearing my hair out. i researched children's behaviour to the point of needing an honourory qualification, and i spent the last three hours ignoring my girlfriend while i finished this off.

for as much as i put these two through (and myself tbh), i'm sad to finish it off. BUT ALSO NOW IM FREE.

have fun reading! and sorry about the length of it

London smells of dirty rain and exhaust fumes, of a homelessness crisis and inflation attempting to impersonate that of the Weimar Republic; greyish streets, cracks in the pavement, thousands of spices from all over the world. Grubby patterns, hidden by the smudging of millions of bottoms, coloured poles that used to match the train line but no longer do. You breathe it all in, eyes closed as the motion of the underground jerks you sideways, the train leaving London Bridge just as you left Barcelona. Without looking back.

You had laughed when they told you they’d send a driver to get you from the airport. The luxury of some shiny black car held no appeal when compared to the familiar Northern line, its blackened route well-travelled and your own brick-road home.

Part of this choice to ‘slum it’ is borne of your desire to return to the past; a time before the fame and the fortune, when camera flashes came from your parents’ Sony Cyber-shot and not paparazzos with a hunger to splash you across the front page of a slimy gossip magazine. There was no Alexia, then. The extent of Spanish in your life was Anya studying for her A-levels, and you’d spend time writing songs without it feeling like pulling teeth. Without having to relive some of the worst moments of your life.

Those hadn’t happened yet.

God, you were so naive then back then.

Your London shows are in Wembley. Two nights, two journeys through your album, through your heartbreak. Both are sold out.

“See it, say it, sorted,” you mouth along to the voice, pushing the handle of your suitcase upwards, rising from your seat. The doors of the tube swoosh open, the yellow line of the platform attacking your tired eyes as Highgate station is revealed to you. You hear a whisper of ‘is that Y/n L/n?’ but you don’t turn around.

The wheels of your suitcase gurgle against the bumpy pavement leading up to your house, but they grow quieter as you approach. They must sense the tension, glad to have the smoother surface of your driveway to move across as you force yourself to continue walking forwards.

A woman is standing on your porch. Her body swivels around as she hears you stop just behind her.

Leah takes in the sight of you, deciding that you definitely did not enjoy Barcelona. “I was just about to ring the doorbell, but I guess you wouldn’t have answered the door anyway,” she says with an awkward chuckle, not sure if you want to talk about how rough you look. You cried the entire flight, and refused to contact anyone once you had landed, hoping they assumed your plane had crashed and you had drowned somewhere in the English Channel.

“I got here in the morning.” Your voice is unused. It croaks, shattered.

“Let me get your bag?” asks Leah, rather firmly, leaving you no room to decline her request before she has stepped off the porch and into your personal space. She looks up at you, wondering how you manage to look so beautiful even now, hand blindly reaching out for the hard shell of your suitcase as she stares. “How’re Nico and–”

Your lips silence her before she is finished. Leah freezes, surprised this is the moment you have chosen to kiss her.

But she misses you as soon as you pull away.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and she cringes at the self-loathing that drips from your words. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you are unsure whether it falls because you have kissed her or because you want to kiss her again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You must have argued with Alexia. Leah’s realisation weighs heavy on her heart. Something has to have happened for you to have made your move, because Leah had been starting to accept the idea that you were still in love with your ex and she was nothing more than a friend. She had been looking forward to your concert tonight, in all honesty, and was excited to see you again, glad to have you in her life in any way, shape, or form.

“Because,” she starts hesitantly, “because you didn’t like it? Or…”

“Leah.”

“If you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Leah,” you repeat, the vowels almost failing to drop from the tip of your tongue. This is a dangerous game, but the look in Leah’s blue eyes tells you that she is happy to play it. “Leah, I… I shouldn’t have kissed you?”

“Is that a question?”

You blink. “I’m not sure.”

“If it’s a question, I’d say that the answer is the opposite. And that we should go inside.” She slides her hand over the metal handle of your suitcase, warm skin covering your fingers where your grip is still curled around it. “But only if you want to.”

Do you want to?

You value your friendship, you really do; Leah has been there for you many times since you met her, never asking too many questions. She means something more than what you crave from her, and doesn’t deserve to be the woman you use to detach yourself from reality.

But Leah is looking at you with desire that has been missed, relentlessness promised by her toned muscles. Leah is looking at you as though you are the only star in the galaxy or the sun on a rainy day. Leah is looking at you like she wants to devour you, and you, with no soul left to give, resign to letting her have your body.

“This won’t change anything, right?”

It’s a mean question. You know that.

“Course not,” Leah lies.

You let it convince the both of you.

Pink glitter covers the dining table at one end, and shiny green stars are scattered on top of the brown grain of the wood on the other.

“She might be at soundchek,” Alexia explains to Nico, who is finished with his Mother’s Day creation and is now intent on FaceTiming you to show you the card he has made. “And cards are supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we made envelopes!”

“But you said my card should be put in a museum,” he replies with a frown, his nose crinkling in confusion just as yours does. “So we show her now.”

“Mi amor, that’s not how it works,” laughs Alexia, reaching out to ruffle his hair. With Elena settled comfortably on her healthy knee, gleefully pushing piles of glitter around so that it mixes with the glue smeared on her card, it is safe to say that this year’s cards are going to be successes. “Mama has promised to call when she gets home, and you can tell her that you have a surprise for her. That will build up the excitement, and make it even better when she gets to open it.”

Your son has become a cynic. “And when will that be?”

“Mother’s Day is on the 19th, so we have three days to wait.” You have purposely chosen a chartered route to Tokyo that flies via Barcelona so that you get to spend the day with your children before your fortnight in Asia to end the first half of the tour. “Do you want to write the words out for Lela once the glue has dried?”

“I don’t know what Lela wants me to say,” he explains with great concern, turning to his sister with a very serious expression. He speaks to her in English, because he knows that this card is for you. He understands that there are two Mother’s Days, though he thinks it’s because he has two mothers, and that Alexia’s day is in May. When Alexia opens her mouth to speak, Nico is quick to shut her down. “Calla, Mami, no sabes nada de inglés.”

Your legs slam together but find no available route with Leah’s body in between them.

It feels… good.

Liberating.

You haven’t brought her into your bed, which she notices but doesn’t comment on. It’s excusable to be on the sofa, to have stayed downstairs for the hours she has spent trying to make you feel better, because the clock has only just ticked its way to lunchtime. You laugh to yourself at the thought of that, amused by the notion that you have already eaten.

Leah is curious when it comes to you. That much you had expected, having been aware of her lingering gazes long before the sores on your heart had calloused into tougher muscle. She has been waiting for this resiliently, and you present yourself to her as though you are a new toy she finally gets to play with. She kisses you slowly at times, to memorise the warmth of your tongue or the jut of your chin, but she often grows impatient, wanting nothing more than to end her torture and find out what it is like.

What is it like to have a woman like you? To wake up next to you, kiss you, touch you?

How does your mind work? What do you smell like just after getting out of the shower? Does your accent ever slip, or is it really that posh?

The air in the living room is hazy now, and your eyes close in bliss as you let your sweat seep into the grainy fabric of your white sofa. Leah doesn’t crawl into your open arms as you assume she will.

She wipes her mouth.

Although Leah has enjoyed this very much, she knows that this instance has not been you allowing her to start to love you. It has been for her to help you forget how much pain you are in. Somewhere deep down, she cares, but she doesn’t try to search for the emotion.

“So,” she says with a giggle, as if you are two teenage girls, best friends who have decided to kiss so that they can practise for the real thing, “do I need to send an apology present to your makeup artist?” Sitting back on her knees, she swipes one hand down to pluck her t-shirt from the floor, pulling it on top of her naked body before sending you an exaggerated smirk and prodding the developing bruise on your neck.

“Fuck,” you groan, batting her hand away. “I completely forgot I had that thing tonight.” You also need to call your children before Alexia bans your name from her household (if that hasn’t happened already).

“That ‘thing’ being your concert at Wembley?”

“I’d have thought selling out Wembley is the norm for you now, Captain,” you tease, clearing your throat. “England have done it, Champions of Europe for the very first time.”

“You’re freakishly good at a commentator’s voice.”

“Gotten used to being my own commentator. Only Spanish streams in my house – even United matches!” You smile at your own frustration but it quickly sours as awkwardness drops on top of you. You bring your arms up to cover your bare chest, but Leah clears her throat with softened eyes and you no longer feel so exposed.

You feel safe.

“What happened in Barcelona?” You shake your head at her question. “That bad, huh?” she presses.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you tell her, grey clouds hanging over you as your voice darkens and lowers. “Like, at all.”

“I think you should. It’s better it comes out now than later when you’ve had lots to drink and no idea who you’re ranting about it to, isn’t it? And it’s just me; I’m not going to judge you.”

“But you know her. You know her friends.” Your hands move to cover your face. Leah can have your body, but you don’t want her to have your tears. “Thank you for caring, babe, but I think I’m going to handle this one on my own.”

“Well, you know that–”

“You’re always a phone call away.” You smile, tears sucked back inside you, bottled away in glassware you store in crates labelled ‘VERY FRAGILE’. Desperate to change the subject, you adjust your position on the sofa, sitting up. Leah tries very hard not to stare at the curves of your chest. “You know, Lee, I never thought you’d be that good in bed.”

…

Alexia is in desperate need of advice.

Her muscles contract and relax, the tissues pulling on her bone, which, in turn, pulls her. She is strung along, driven perhaps by her leap in recovery and impending comeback. She almost breaks out into a jog, but the church she has dragged herself to comes into view before she can gain speed.

She had not expected this from herself.

It’s nothing special to her, though she will admit that the architecture of the building does hold some sense of divinity, but the heavy wooden door is propped open and she is drawn inside.

The Sacrament of Reconciliation, Fridays, 17.00-17.30.

Alexia checks her watch, the golden links gleaming on her wrist, catching the sunlight that filters in through the glass windows.

She catches a glimpse of white behind the doors of the Confession booth, becoming acutely aware of how empty the church is. The curtain has been pulled back, bunched to the left-hand side carefully, as though the previous handler had moved with peace.

It can’t be that bad, can it?

It’s just like therapy.

Her feet carry her forwards once more, leading her into the wooden booth. It smells old. The cushion she kneels on is blue, she thinks, but she cannot tell because it goes dark once she pulls the curtain shut.

Alexia is not a religious person. Sure, she signs the cross before stepping onto the pitch, and, like most people she knows, she is baptised, but her faith is limited to that. When she tore her ACL, she spent evenings trying to pray, trying to force her to believe in Him. It would have been comforting to know that someone had a plan for her, was watching over her carefully with the knowledge of how it was going to play out. It was to no avail.

But somehow she knows what to say, and so she does.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” She recites the words like lines from a play, head bowed in shame as she writes her next sentences in her mind. “This is my first and, probably, my last confession.”

Silence.

She rests her hands in her lap, shuffling around to ensure she is not pressing down on her knee in any way that is harmful. It would kill her to have to push back her return to the pitch because of some stupid thing she has spontaneously chucked herself into.

“I messed up.” She laughs. “No, that is actually an understatement. I know this is a church and I really shouldn’t swear, but I fucked up. Father, I had Heaven in my hands and I threw it away as though it were meaningless. Was it greed? Was it greed that led me to do it?”

“Do what, my daughter?”

The priest sounds younger than she’d thought he would be.

“I had an affair with a woman whom I am certain I do love a little bit, but, by doing that, I destroyed a life that was perfect. Was it greed?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Was it temptation?” Alexia tries again, desperately. Part of her yearns for the priest to tell her it was the Devil so that she can shed the responsibility. “I love my wife. More than anything, I love her. I do not think my own life is worth living if it is not in service to her, to our children, to the smile she reserves for her favourite people. I… I didn’t attempt it, but I thought about killing myself.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Only once, but I thought it all the same. My sister called me selfish.

“It’s just – forgive me – fucked, isn’t it? I got carried away. I got lonely, I was alone. I craved something to make me forget, to pinch the gaping hole in my life shut. I relied on it to make me feel better, and it did for a time. But now it has made me feel much, much worse.

“And I am sorry! I am so, so sorry. I have grown sick of the word; I’ve used it so much that it holds no meaning anymore. It doesn’t do my regret justice, nor my quest for forgiveness, and I’m really on that quest, Father, I want to stress that to you. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said – things I don’t even believe – but I did not mean them then, and I do not mean them now.”

“You are not religious,” accuses the priest, very gently. His voice washes over Alexia’s ears like a wave of warm saltwater from the Mediterranean, and she feels comfortable enough to swim into the expanse in front of her. “Our God is forgiving, but it is not His forgiveness that you seek. I cannot give you a prayer that will make her absolve your sins, because our holy words are not spells.”

“Father,” croaks Alexia. As her lips part, she tastes the saltwater of the sea, dripping down her cheeks as though the tide has come in and there is no other option than for her to be flooded. “Please help me. I don’t know what to do.”

The priest speaks, but she assigns the voice to someone else.

The first thing you forget about a person is what their voice sounds like. It lingers like a feeling you can’t quite name; distant, distorted, enhanced by fantasy.

Alexia does not remember her father’s voice.

The realisation is crushing.

She knows his words – they are her prayers – but, like Catholics do not know the voice of their God, she can no longer hear the voice of hers.

What would her father say if he saw her like this? On her knees in a Confession booth, backed against the wall with nowhere to hide?

This is not the girl he was proud of. Alexia, of course, is not that eighteen-year-old anymore; she hasn’t been for a decade. But, recently, the legacy of that unknown Levante player has disappeared.

Alexia is so very lost.

She does not know where she is in her own city. In her home.

She does not know her place in her life, much less her place in yours – if you will still grant her one.

She has not felt the thrill of football for months, has driven herself to Hell and back, and considered giving up enough to be on the brink of actually doing it.

She has seen countless meals hit the water of her toilet, never digested, never deserving of the very thing that keeps her alive.

She has counted your sacrifices, memorising the digits of an ongoing figure so that she can punish herself with the knowledge.

She has tried to forget English, tried to improve her English, and taken vows of silence.

She has cried and cried and cried until the only thing left for her to excrete is her hot, red blood.

She has searched for a way out of the maze. She has failed every time.

Alexia is lost without you, and she knows it. Everyone knows it, perhaps even you yourself. Do you revel in that fact? Do you enjoy it?

You have a right to watch her suffer. You do, you do, you do.

Alexia runs a hand through her damp hair, sweating as she sobs in the booth next to some stranger who she will never meet again. Her mouth is dry but her cries are wet and raw, and they scrape her throat as she chokes them out, losing her breath and falling silent only to catch it and begin again. The cushion burns her knees as though she is trapped in an inferno, the darkness blazing against her skin.

The priest talks to her for a long time, not letting her leave until she has calmed down. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her palm before softly pressing her thumbs to her blotchy cheeks to clear the final tears from them.

When he is finished, he instructs her to take a few deep breaths, which she does. “You are not entitled to her forgiveness,” he reminds her. He begins the Prayer of Absolution – he insists for the sake of closure – and Alexia walks away from the church no more than five minutes later.

She is still stuck in the maze, but she has restored that voice in her head that she knows will help her find her way out.

…

“So you went to church?” Olga asks with an amused smile, taking the first sip of her latte, relishing in the gentle burn of the liquid. She needs this coffee; she stayed up late last night because she knew Alexia has been struggling. There is nothing worse than being asleep when Alexia calls her for help.

“I have no idea how I ended up there,” Alexia explains, somewhat defensive about yesterday’s catharsis. “Confession is way better than therapy. There is too much accountability in therapy.”

“You have a lot to account for.”

She huffs out a breath, taking a sip of her own drink. “I know, Olga, but I cannot change the past, so what would you like me to do?” Olga doesn’t reply. The brunette parts her lips, but promptly closes her mouth when she sees Alexia’s slight discomfort. “Mama wants you to come to dinner tonight. I… I do too.”

Olga’s smile is big and genuine. “I’d love that,” she answers. “Eli is the best cook out of our friends’ parents. Everyone knows that.”

You’re in London, childless, and are watching the grand old Arsenal play (reluctantly, forced to by Leah if anything). Alexia has seen the pictures of you at the match on Instagram; she has already felt the frustration that you are most-likely never going to watch Barcelona play again unless it is to support the other team. Like clockwork, Alexia seeks to fill the gaping hole you have left in her life. Somewhere, somehow, the lines of friendship between her and Olga have blurred.

…

It takes just over a month for Leah to crack.

You appear in London every two weeks, attending meetings and events, but she has decided, once and for all, to see through your excuses. You come to London for her. She knows that, and so do you. Leah’s ego has not reached a size where she believes she is enough for you, but the facts (and Lia Wälti) tell her she is wrong.

Except, what Leah tends to leave out is that no matter how many times you let her sleep with you, she still is unable to access a certain part of your mind.

She has never been upstairs in your house because you always prefer to go to her place in St. Albans. She has never slept in your bed, nor woken up next to you.

You talk to her like she is still the same old Leah, the captain you befriended during the tournament of her lifetime, your entrance in her life intertwined with the ecstasy of winning the Euros. She closes her eyes and thinks of how you looked that summer; white England shirt, sunglasses pulled down over your eyes. Smiling, cheering. For her, she greedily claims to herself.

Sometimes, in her mind, you lift your sunglasses – you always seem to be crying when she pictures this – but Leah is only vaguely familiar with the timeline of your divorce. This is the issue.

There is a door that you have locked and refuse to let Leah find the key. It leads to heartbreak, to Nico and Elena, to a family you once had.

“I wish you would let me in,” Leah says one day. (The day she cracks.) She tears her ACL two days prior, something that makes you feel guiltily nauseous, and you have come to visit her. She knows that you had flown over the minute you had swapped custody with Alexia.

Your legs curl into your chest as you try to reduce the amount of space you are taking up on Leah’s sofa, cautious of her injured knee. Leah misses the warmth of your thighs, and wants to revoke her conversation starter instantly, pained that she has to even ignite the fire of this forbidden topic. “What do you mean?” comes your quiet reply, unwilling to disturb the peace of her living room. The peace of existing side-by-side.

“Exactly what I said.” Leah nods to emphasise her agreement with herself. “I wish you would let me in, because how do you expect me to love you if I don’t know you?”

She sees the bullet fly through the air; she sees the moment it hits you, the way you go rigid. Dead. Dying?

“It’s crazy because it usually takes years for me to feel about someone the way I feel about you, and I just… I just wanted to tell you that it’s okay to let me in. I want to hear everything, to know everything.”

“Oh.” What had you expected when you kissed her? “Oh, Leah.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” She assigns your guilt, the tears in your eyes, to your distance. Perhaps you hadn’t realised, perhaps it is a coincidence Leah has never slept in the bed you used to share with Alexia. Maybe you are unaware that Leah has never heard you speak Spanish, and doesn’t know a single thing about your life in Barcelona.

You’re a busy person, after all.

“No, no,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. Leah can’t help but wonder if the paranoid voice in her head is right; has she been reading too much into this? “Fuck, I am such a twat.”

But you don’t elaborate further, asking how she’s feeling, distracting her from your realisation about her realisation. Before Leah knows it, you are making her laugh harder than she has in a month, and soon, like most good things, your visit comes to an end.

Returning to Barcelona is a little weird.

You feel as though you have done nothing but check over your shoulder the entire journey, staring the past straight in the eye and wishing you could change it.

You hadn’t meant to make her fall in love with you. (But she has. Oh, she has.)

This week’s swap is no different; the same park as usual, the same pleasant weather to undergo an unpleasant task.

On the bench usually occupied by Olga, a different, blonder head comes into view.

“Irene?” you ask in surprise, wondering if she has been sent in Olga’s stead or just so happens to have brought Mateo, her son, to the very same park. You sit down beside her, somewhat pleased to not see Alexia’s henchwoman today. “Where’s the free childcare?”

The defender’s eyes narrow, as though she is debating whether or not she should tell you.

Irene has known Alexia for a long time, and, by extension, has known you for a long time too. She is calm, level-headed, and mature, much like Alexia. Except Irene hasn’t ever thought to cheat on her wife.

You are clearly in a lot of pain, and you have a right to be; Irene does not rise to your comment. “Olga has gone on holiday,” she states with practised neutrality.

“Ah, they’ve broken up.”

Eyebrows raised, she turns to you, breaking her line of sight that encompasses Nico, Mateo, and Elena. The playground is small enough, and very safe. “They were never together.” You wait patiently for her analysis of whatever the fuck was going on between them. “Olga said she wasn’t what Alexia needed. She’s on holiday with Carla, and I guess she is quite upset.”

“And Alexia?” You know Irene does not like to gossip, nor stir the pot. So you can be nosy about how she is doing.

“I think her ego was bruised, but she sees Olga’s point. She has been… better recently. She’s focused on getting back onto the pitch, and Jona is only saying good things about it.” Irene’s eyes brighten at the thought of her captain’s recovery, and her tone soars through the air. The entire team has worried for Alexia, spending their own nights tossing and turning, wondering if the old version of her will ever return. “I know you two don’t speak, but if you did, you’d get a glimpse of what it was like before.”

You can’t help your smile, and Irene does not make you feel pathetic for wearing it. “Good.”

“I heard you were in London?”

“Visiting a… friend.” Irene is not a gossip, you remind yourself. “I think I might have to stay in this country for a bit and let things cool down over there.”

She chuckles. “Whose heart have you broken?” She won’t tell Alexia, when Alexia inevitably asks about you, that you are seeing someone. Not that you have confirmed that to her.

“I’m yet to break it,” you tell her, sighing, “but I know I will, and that is much, much worse.”

“Hey, at least you have two weeks of being endlessly busy to keep your mind off it.”

Children change a lot in two weeks, so Irene then launches into an update on school, clubs, and everything else. She gets the information from Alexia, of course, who writes out a list every time you switch over. No one has ever handed you the piece of paper before, worried that her handwriting will be an unnecessary reminder of the pain she has caused you, but, for some reason, Irene does today.

You are not put off by the swirling Spanish in front of you, instead choosing to study it. You have spent hours in Alexia’s lap as she scrawls out football notes upon football notes, scribbling prompted by footage or, freakishly, her own memory. From the lightness of the indentations of the pen, you figure that Alexia is exhausted. From the half-finished sentences, you decide that she was rushing when she wrote this.

But, as much as you delight in your brief analysis of the evidence in your palms like Sherlock Holmes solving a mystery, you can’t ignore just how greatly you have missed the letters that swim between the lines (and the hand from which they were written).

Irene spares you your dignity by standing from the bench and checking on the children just as your tears begin to fall.

…

You take one last look in the mirror embedded in the sun visor, ensuring your hair is perfectly in place and your earrings match your cream, sleeveless turtleneck to poise you just between casual and smartly-dressed. A quiet grumble from the backseat draws your attention away from your reflection, though your last glimpse at your concealed eyebags and red-rimmed irises leaves you feeling a little dejected and mourning the days you’d actually get some sleep. (Or wouldn’t, smoking cigarettes on the balcony while talking Alexia’s ear off.)

“Mama, we go,” decides Elena with a huff, tugging on the buckle of her car seat.

It’s Nico’s first-ever recital tonight.

He started playing the piano in September, when his teacher at school had mentioned how he boasted to the children in his class that he was a musician: ‘if I am Catalan because my mami is Catalan, then I am musician because my mami is musician’. You felt guilty. His teacher says he is naturally talented, voice lacking surprise but praiseful nonetheless, and is proud to name Nico his youngest student at tonight’s show.

The bouquet of daisies you ask Elena to hold makes her look like a miniature carnival float, and she toddles into the venue by your side while you do mental gymnastics between the knowledge that Alexia will be here tonight and the nerves for your son’s performance. It’s nothing complicated, but you worry he will hate it. This is the only thing he does that is a nod towards you; his one deviation from his worship of Alexia.

“Mami!” squeals the walking flowers as soon as you make it to the half-full hall. You direct your gaze to the three rows your daughter refers to, every seat lined with either professional footballers or family. With a sudden rush of blood to your head, you feel out of your depth.

You’re not sure whether the hazel eyes that find yours help or worsen that.

“Keep it moving,” you mutter firmly, holding her hand so she does not make a break for it and tumble right over to the cohort of FC Barcelona and Seguras. Not wanting to get too close to them, you take your seat in the penultimate row, knowing Nico will not be able to see you over the grand piano set up on the stage wherever you sit. “You can talk to her later, sweetheart.”

She is in an obedient mood, most-likely intimidated by the tension in the air. You tell yourself it’s the stress radiating from the line of performers sitting on the front row. Nico stands on his chair, waving first to Alexia and then to you (it’s your turn with them so you are a lot less exciting right now), before he is lightly scolded by his teacher and the first child walks up the steps and onto the stage.

Five uninspiring children later, Nico is finally led up onto the stage. His teacher sits down on the piano stool and nudges him forwards. He smiles brightly at the room. You reciprocate, encouraging Elena to do the same to keep her engaged with an admittedly boring event.

“Bona nit a tothom! Jo sóc en Nicolau i tinc quatre anys i ara aniré a tocar ‘Brillia Brillia Estel Petit’.” The audience melts before him. “Mama, that means ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’,” he whispers loudly.

You send him a thumbs up. He sends you a grin back, before giggling as he climbs onto the piano stool beside his teacher.

Situated comfortably, feet dangling adorably far away from the pedals, his chubby, little fingers hit the ivory keys once, then twice.

You pray this goes well.

It does.

He plays with two hands, something you hadn’t expected, and Elena holds in her noisy yawn until after he is finished so she must have been invested in the performance. Your own hands sting after you clap with such prideful force that you are the loudest in the room, and the hoots and hollers from Alexia’s territory only make Nico even happier as he bounces down the steps and back to his seat to wait for the others to do their pieces.

After the recital has finished, you walk down the aisle separating the seats in half to get to Nico, daughter-less courtesy of a squadron of football-playing kidnappers.

“How was that?” you ask him smugly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “I knew you would be brilliant, even when you were scared you weren’t going to be. Do you know how proud I am of you?”

“This much?” He holds his hand about thirty centimetres apart. “Mami says this much.”

When he widens his hands, you gesture something even bigger.

“‘Immensely’ is the word I would use.”

“Im-men-lee?”

“Es que nuestro orgullo llena una casa sin techo. Hasta el cielo.”

“Up to the sun,” you amend, ignoring the way the voice has made you stiffen. You don’t read too much into her misuse of the collective pronoun. There is no ‘our’ in ‘affair’.

Alexia’s hand hovers by your waist for a moment, muscle memory getting the better of her before she draws it back into her body. Nico gives her a matching hug, telling her how much he has missed her.

You try not to blame yourself for his derailed childhood.

“You were amazing, petit,” Alexia says, picking him up with one strong arm and settling him on her hip. You grip the wrapper of the bouquet you are holding. “Did Mama get you a gift?”

He peers at the daisies in your hand with curiosity. Shaking his head, his confusion deepens as he studies the bouquet you are extending towards him. “They are for Mami? Flowers are for love.”

“I love you,” you tell him, not trying to make a point but instinctively prickling in the presence of Alexia.

The silence is awkward.

A few metres away, whilst entertaining the sleepy toddler on her lap, Mapi is excitedly talking to Alba. “Y/n hasn’t killed her yet,” says the defender with glee, one of your admirers. The team respected you before, never questioning their captain’s judgement nor family, but when word got out about the affair amongst the older girls, most of them began to see you as more than Alexia’s wife. A new layer to your character was revealed; you are a strong, independent, and successful woman. Football nerds sometimes forget success comes in more forms than blaugrana kits. “They made such a beautiful couple.”

“They did.” Alba watches as you talk to your son, your eyes actively avoiding the woman in front of you. “Our mother has sent Alexia over there to invite her to dinner. It killed me to see her sit alone.”

You are too used to the feeling of eyes on you that you no longer notice the weight of people’s stares, but, if this were not the case, you would know that most of the heads attached to the bodies sitting in Alexia’s rows had been swivelled towards you for majority of the recital. Pity is never a desired emotion to have offered to you, but the Barça girls can’t help but feel that way whenever they see your forehead crinkle in an attempt to understand Catalan, presuming you only speak Spanish as you have more than enough on your plate. (And, as most of the players will admit, your children speak better English than them, so one can only assume that it is your main method of communication.)

“She’s a very good mother,” Mapi comments with a small nod, sucking a sharp breath in as she begins to sympathise with you even more. Not a day goes by where she witnesses the suffering Alexia’s idiocracy has caused – as Ingrid, her girlfriend, knows very well – and does not fail to scream in frustration about her best friend’s stupid mistakes.

“She’s a very good person.”

They fall silent as they see your head tilt up, jaw clenching as Alexia begins to speak to you.

“Can you hear what she’s saying?” whispers Eli to her daughter, equally invested in the conversation. “I knew I should have sent you; Alex is too socially awkward.”

“Mami, she is talking to her wife,” replies Alba, though she remembers what happened the last time Alexia and you had spoken and the outcome of that. Maybe that commences her increasing agreement with her mother… “I guess you– Are they coming over here?!”

Even you seem surprised by how your legs carry you towards the Barcelona clan, a step behind Alexia and Nico. Hesitant would be an understatement, but most of them are too preoccupied with congratulating the four-year-old they have come to watch to notice your tight-lipped smile and trembling hands.

“Hola,” you say shyly.

Eli pulls you into her strong embrace without missing a beat. “Te he echado de menos, hija.”

You try very hard not to burst into tears.

They take you to dinner; a plan you had known about but not envisioned yourself included in. Although it’s your fortnight, Alexia (through the conduit of Alba) had previously arranged to drop Nico and Elena over to yours before midnight.

You blow off your FaceTime call with Leah.

The restaurant is on the lower level of fine-dining. It’s chic, but it does not make your children feel unwelcome. The table is set for five places, though Alba informs you that the reason for this is because the reservation was made before she broke up with her girlfriend.

“Mama, what are you going to eat?” asks Nico, slipping back into his old life seamlessly, mixing his English with the Spanish he knows everyone can understand, his legs swinging underneath the table with an enthusiastic energy. He is still too young to pick up on how far apart his parents are sitting, or how you refuse to let your eyes linger on Alexia’s tanned skin, far too much of it shown off by the tank top she sports in the humidity of the busy restaurant.

You glance around the room, searching for those who have recognised you. Under the weight of at least four curious stares, you motivate yourself to enjoy your meal.

“Not sure yet, babe,” you answer. “Alba, do you fancy sharing something?”

“Yeah, of course.” The younger Putellas smiles. Alexia knows who has lost the war.

Dinner passes with light conversation centred on very neutral topics. No man’s land is clearly the children, and you had never expected to be so desperate to continue a conversation about school lunches until the other options are how Alexia had an affair with her teammate or that your song with her favourite singer is topping the charts and explicitly about being cheated on.

Although you and Alexia both watch how many times your wine glasses are refilled, Alba lets loose, as does Eli (probably to ease the stress on her heart that her girls force upon her). Their cheeks redden and Nico begins to yawn, Elena already curled into your side halfway between dreams and reality.

“Should we head out?” you ask it to the table, but the only functioning person is Alexia, really, and so you close your eyes to avoid having to make eye contact.

“I should probably get Mama and Alba into a taxi.”

“If you call one for them, I will call one for us?” Your suggestion is instinctive; an old habit reminiscent of many similar nights, back when there was love and happiness and a relationship that didn’t feel like walking on a floor made of broken glass. “Or did you drive here?”

“No, but you drove,” comes Alexia’s reminder. Internally, you face-palm. Parking the car before dinner seems like years ago; something feels different now. “But if you don’t feel up to it, I could drive you home. I haven’t had much to drink and I have nothing else planned for tonight. Elena is practically in a coma anyway.”

You laugh – a softened version of it so as to not rouse the dead weight of your daughter.

“Are you sure?”

It’s late.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

I don’t care.

“Mama,” Alba slurs, pulling her mother in close. “The saint has given her sinner a second chance.”

It may not be as quiet as she thinks it is. Alexia, occupied, is deaf to the comment. You are not.

This is not a second chance.

This is a lift home.

The last time all four of you sat in a car together was the day you found out about Alexia’s affair.

You had suffered then – are still suffering now – but your anger was hot and sharp and new. Fresh wounds.

Now, though more scabbed-over than healed, those wounds no longer seem to gush blood; you entertain Alexia’s stiff small-talk.

She asks about the tour, never veering too far off the road of practicality and shared custody. When does it resume? Which has been your favourite show?

“Wembley is like playing El Clásico in Camp Nou,” she determines, not needing to ask about that because she knows you too well.

Your memories of the London shows involve a naked Leah Williamson. (If only she knew that!)

“Yeah, London was great.”

Awkwardness is part of Alexia’s personality; something you are fairly certain you still love. She is shy, though it perhaps comes off as stoicity, and she has never been good at making conversation. You know she hates it, and you know that her eyes, Alexia’s eyes, are gazing at you every time she thinks you are not looking.

She is weary about the desire darkening her pupils, but she does not do well to hide her hunger nonetheless.

“Go into the carpark,” you instruct as you approach your building.

Wordlessly, she presses the correct pin into the pin-pad, never having forgotten it.

She parks the car beside a new-looking Mercedes. It’s not a car for children, and she imagines it reeks of cigarettes – there is no way you have stopped smoking.

It belongs in the carpark; in your little world of celebrities and male footballers; of money and fame and fortune. (One could argue you lack the latter, what with your current situation.) Alexia’s life has never moulded with yours.

Perhaps it never will.

Perhaps she slept with Jenni because they are equals, you think. Because Jenni understands Alexia in a way you cannot.

“Mami,” cries a quiet voice from the backseat. You stop staring at the grey, concrete walls, snapping back to reality as Alexia shifts to turn her attention to the source of the whimpering. “No quiero que te vayas.”

“Lela, me tengo que ir.”

“Pero–”

“You could always come up to say goodnight to them?”

It starts off innocently.

Of course it does. Of course you are nowhere near forgiveness, more likely to forget about the crushing affair before you excuse any of her actions. Sometimes, you wish for amnesia. Sometimes, you refer to the tab open in Safari – ‘is there a drug that makes you forget?’.

Alexia is granted a tuck-in and a story for each child, glad that their rooms are separate so that her time in her home is prolonged. The walls are familiar, the floor is the same. There are new pictures in new frames, but the old ones have not been removed. If you had ever wished to take photographs of your relationship down, you have never acted on it.

She realises you must not spend a lot of time here alone. Maybe you cannot bear it. Maybe your life in London is more important to you than she had thought.

Anyway, for as much as she subtly noses around and draws out the night, she has no intention of overstaying her welcome, sure that she probably did that the minute she stepped inside.

In fact, she is on her way out, under the assumption that you will not want to speak to her.

“So you’re back to playing?”

“Sí.”

A doorway conversation.

You’re English. You’re very polite. Alexia knows this, tries to not get her hopes up.

“Does that mean you don’t want a taste of this ‘97?” You hold the bottle up to her, the cork lying on the granite worktop with the incriminating suggestion that you have already had a glass.

“We play the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, Ale, this is a good one.”

How many times have you said that to her before? The same tone, the same look in your eye; red tinting your lips, one hand on a lighter because you smoke when you’re drunk, even if you refuse to touch the cancer-sticks when you are sober.

“Was this a gift?” she asks, drawn into your magnetic field like a flimsy paper clip; thin, worn metal trying to piece the pages of her life back together. “Or have you been making ridiculous purchases again?”

“I can assure you that it is not ‘ridiculous’.” You moan in delight as you take a sip from a glass you subsequently hand over to her. “Gosh, that is divine, and you are simply going to dissolve when you taste it.”

Dissolve she does, but one can attribute that to the company.

The contents of the bottle dwindles quickly, paired with a vulnerable retelling of her ACL recovery (sans suicidal thoughts and huge, huge regret about the affair – she doesn’t want to bring that up, seeing as you are clearly trying to forget about it), and the warm breeze of the Barcelona nighttime. The salty air from the mediterranean mingles with cigarette smoke, though Alexia softly says that you really should stop.

You hesitate on your next puff, but you inhale it all the same. “I like my wine smokey.”

She opens the next bottle for you.

The wine glasses are soon discarded, pouring becoming shaky and difficult.

“They sleep all the way through the night here,” observes Alexia, surprised that no little hands have knocked on the glass door leading to the balcony. The last time you had reached for the wine, you’d moved closer to her. You have not yet returned to your original seat on the other side of the rattan sofa.

You raise your eyebrows, under the impression that they were both sleep trained. “They don’t at yours?”

“Elena keeps trying to sleep in bed with me.”

“Maybe she likes you more,” you suggest with a light, alcohol-infused laugh. “She must have been upset to find her place filled by your friend.”

“No,” murmurs Alexia, “it has never been filled. Though I don’t think you can say the same.”

You swallow the stickiness of the wine running down your throat.

“Not in our bed. My bed.” You fight yourself. “Our bed.”

“In Highgate?”

“Anywhere,” you breathe.

“It’s been months,” croaks Alexia, your hand pressed against her stomach as you slowly lean into the feeling only she can give you. “Months.”

You kiss her. Time folds in on itself, and you are transported back to when every touch was electric; when nothing was tainted. The pain of the past months, the heartbreak, momentarily fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in Alexia’s warmth.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, afraid that this moment might slip away too soon. The taste of wine lingers on your lips, and she craves the softness of them – she has been craving them since July.

“Well, now it has only been seconds,” you whisper as you pull away.

With a sense of urgency, she chases your mouth once more, strong arms pulling you on top of her, manipulating your body against her with no hint of uncertainty.

Alexia knows you well.

Her touch lacks curiosity and exploration. Her hands are experienced and confident in their movements, and she has hoisted you up and brought you to your bedroom without needing to have been told that this is what you want.

“Is this what you want?” she asks anyway.

“Please.”

And she really doesn’t make you beg.

Your hands roam her body with a primal hunger, instinctive touches to the most sensitive parts of her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her back is tense, muscles flexing as she pushes your clothes off your skin, her own following their path soon after.

Parted legs and soft moans.

She slots herself between your thighs.

Her tongue is determined, fierce. Sloppier because she is drunk, but, then again, so are you.

Your fingers repay the favour.

“More,” you request just as she pulls away.

“Is it in the same place?”

You nod, panting.

There is a playful glint in Alexia’s eyes as she finds the strap just where she left it. As she secures it in place, you wipe the sweat from your brow, forcing your mind into the dirtiest of thoughts to ward off the building regret.

The room is dimly lit, and the air heavy with desire. Your heartbeat pulses in the silence, the thrum of the organ drums that guide Alexia’s slow, deliberate steps back towards the bed, kneeling atop the scrunched sheets.

She positions herself between your legs once more, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating against your skin. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your neck, sending shivers of anticipation shuddering down your spine.

With trembling hands, you reach out, nails digging into tanned, taut skin. You pull her closer to you, urging her to take whatever she wants.

You want her to have you. You want her to make it hurt less.

As Alexia presses inside, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body. You cry out, the sound igniting a blazing inferno within her that grows hotter the moment you ask her to move. Feverishly, her hands move over your chest, finding purchase on your breasts with a dormant possessiveness as her hips begin to drive the strap in deeper.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, encompassed by someone so divine that you begin to separate yourself from all things wrong with this situation. The headboard thuds against the bedroom wall as she pounds her thrusts into a rhythm, and you shut your eyes as you quietly ask her to kiss you.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, but you do not know to whom they belong. Her tongue smothers your moans, and her hips begin to snap into yours more urgently, with more desperation. The pressure builds inside of you, and you feel as though you might explode.

You feel as though this is the end, and you are glad that here is where your misery terminates.

You’re glad, you’re really glad.

Your back arches, your chests pressing together, large hands holding you close to her.

And then it all comes crashing down.

Everything.

You wipe your eyes once the orgasmic bliss subsides, seizing your wine haze as the tide goes out and destroying the blindfold that had deprived you of seeing things straight. Right now, with the pleasant ache between your legs, you can’t quite bring yourself to regret it, but you know you will. You haven’t forgiven her; you’re not sure that it is possible.

“You can shower, but you can’t stay here.”

…

Nico knows that he is special. He is lucky, and he is loved, and he gets to go to a very nice school that Mateo (his ‘cousin’) claims is fancy.

He likes his teacher. She reminds him of someone he once knew – you have suggested the nursery helpers back when he lived in London. He is not sure if you are right, but he doesn’t remember what London was like so he tries not to think too hard about it.

Nico’s friends, like Pau who is sitting beside him, all think it is really cool that he can speak English. Pau says she hears his mother on the radio sometimes, but Nico hasn’t yet grasped the concept of fame past the annoying camera flashes and big, sold-out stadiums. He dislikes fame as he knows it, anyway, because the cameras hurt his eyes and the stadiums are so loud that he has to wear ear-defenders that squeeze his skull a bit too much.

“My mum is from Bilbao. My dad is from Barcelona,” states Paula as she swipes a crayon over the sheet of paper her drawing is on. Green wax slowly stains the white to form ‘grass’. Everyone is drawing their family today, although Nico hasn’t yet started, waiting for his teacher to circle their table so that he can ask for another piece of paper. “And this,” Paula carries on, squiggling brown hair onto a smaller version of the stick-figure father, “is Ander, my big brother.”

“Who is that?” Nico asks, pointing at the fifth figure on the page, guessing that the fourth and Pau-sized person is, in fact, Pau.

“My sister! She’s called Nerea, and she plays basketball.” Pau promptly makes an orange circle the size of Nerea’s head, which floats in the air between her and her sister. “My mum says Nere is going to be a lesbian, but I don’t know what that means.”

“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to garner the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.”

“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”

She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that.

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)

“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?”

“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.”

“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.”

“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.”

He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with.

Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue.

“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares.

Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all.

When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her.

Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that.

“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.”

The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together tot el temps. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.”

His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already attracted the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia is usually inviting him to training with her. Since Elena has yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, his mother misses him when it is not her turn.

You benevolently give your permission if you have no prior plans. It is upsetting that the only hindrance to extra time spent together is the little boy who once worshipped Alexia Putellas like a god.

“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper.

He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half.

Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s.

“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?”

“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.”

“But now you are ripped down the middle.”

He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One of his legs is on your side, the other on Alexia’s.

“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.”

Alexia does, though, when his teacher talks to her that afternoon.

…

“I slept with Alexia,” you confess quietly, comforted by the sound-proofing of Anya’s home-studio. She asked for help with her album; your success might be contagious, she insists. “Last week, when Nico had that recital.” You clutch your mug protectively, as if she will strip you of the right to drink your tea to punish you for your crime.

Anya is unsure what you would like her to say. You search her face for anger, but do not find it.

“If Gio were here, she’d probably slap you.”

You snort, almost spilling hot liquid all over yourself. “You two are like my mothers, and you’re the nicer one by far.”

“God, you are such an idiot.”

“And a slag.” She waits for your next admission with excitement. “I also slept with Leah Williamson.”

“Do you think you and Alexia are just destined for polyamory?” Her amusement is quite pleasant, but one thing wasn’t dulled by the wine that night and you have been dying to tell someone about it.

Your knee bounces up and down as you gear up for it, having thought it through

“I think we are destined for each other.”

Song-writing be damned, Anya fully removes her headphones, placing the equipment beside her keyboard before letting out a small, exasperated laugh. “You are in love with Alexia again,” comes her accusation, with no real malice behind it.

“I never stopped being in love with Alexia. She just made it a lot harder to love her.”

Is that an understatement?

“Hey,” you say with sudden energy, sitting upright and grasping at your phone, tea wobbling over the lip of the mug and running down your wrist. “Should we go to Bali in August?”

…

You avoid both of your footballers right until the World Cup camps roll around.

Leah doesn’t get to go, subjected to the ACL curse. Alexia’s call-up is not necessarily unexpected, but you do find yourself wondering how many more betrayals her friendship with Mapi León can handle. (Mapi is on her last straw, but she knows her friend really needed the win after her hellish year. The Champion’s League was never going to sate Alexia’s hunger to be the best at football – possibly an overcompensation for her terrible relationship skills.)

Your children, this time, are delivered to the park by their very own mother. Alexia beats Leah in this sense, because she has a valid excuse to see you without confessing feelings you do not want to hear.

“I have something for you,” she says just after she has finished her goodbyes, pressing a small box into your hands. Her voice is filled with nerves and you are intrigued, hating yourself for being so. “Don’t open it until you get back home.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. I’m sorry, they seem to say. “Alright, have fun in Bali, and don’t forget that I legally have custody but I am not going to go to court to battle you for it as long as you put them in Spain kits for Spain matches.”

She could, if she wanted to be difficult, have you send Nico and Elena to New Zealand during her weeks. It would be very unreasonable, but the contract your lawyers drew up still stands.

“They were delivered yesterday. I think it’s going to be a struggle to convince them to put on the worst kit ever.” You still don’t forgive Alexia for cheating on you, but there has come a point where acceptance replaces the animosity. Nico’s teacher has been the catalyst in this step forward. The developmental pamphlets she had thrust in your faces were enough for the two of you to come to a mutual agreement of increased civility (that maybe, maybe was only made possible by the fact that you have very recent memories of each other’s orgasms). “But, yes, I agree to your terms. Don’t forget that his favourite player is Alessia Russo, however.”

“He is in a phase where I am ‘uncool’! It’ll pass.”

“If you say so, Alexia.”

“Anyway,” she carries on, rolling her eyes. “Open it when you get home.” She… presses a kiss to your cheek? “I’m so sorry, mi amor.”

You blink back your surprise, but she is gone before you can reply.

The small, neatly-wrapped box sits in the palm of your hand, the corners edging off your skin and sticking out as you stare at it. Nico and Elena continue their (unsupervised) playing, but you manage to call out a warning for ‘five more minutes and then we’ve got to pack’ while you examine Alexia’s gift.

Is this how Pandora felt?

If you open it, what will be unleashed?

Alexia, before now, hasn’t actively pursued your forgiveness. She has given you the time and the space you had broken-heartedly requested, nodding as you communicated your wishes to her through someone else, never before able to confront the face that tore up your life before your eyes.

There was a time when all you ever wanted to do was talk to her, but she tried to forget about that when she realised the extent at which you went to avoid an interaction. When she had understood your desperation to be left alone fully, she began to breathe. The step backwards gave her room to examine just how royally she had fucked it all.

She now feels a bit more capable of tackling the clean-up, working with a much clearer mind. Everyone is relieved that she hasn’t killed herself, or, at least, that she is keeping those thoughts at bay.

You realise that she has bought you a ring, and regardless of whether you wear it or not, she wants to tell you that she is sorry.

...

IT'S NOT OVER YET! THIS WILL TAKE YOU TO THE SECOND HALF

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso fanfics #randombush3 #leah williamson x reader #woso imagines #barca femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine

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captainmera · 7 months

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i never realised just how much tgb had changed how i thought about the characters (mostly vee) until yesterday when i was re-looking over my toh fan-art. You wrote them so well that i forgot that it wasnt all in the show. like how vee and gus weren't shown to being best friends, vee never got to be angry/shocked by hunter or just willow still holding a little grudge against amity. They are just cool details and im so clad they were added! ps your great

Thank you! Wow that's very flattering! I'm glad you are enjoying it!

I really like Vee, and the more I think about the gang's time in the human-realm, the more I sit back in my chair and think "Ah man, these arcs are really necessary and interesting though.."

Vee also holds a lot of plot, as a basilisk. We can speculate what the reason is that they were extinct, for example (grimwalkers were extinct too).

Wat I really enjoy about TOH's characters are how easily and smoothly they weave into each other's themes and arcs. Their personalities and histories makes them all perfect friends to both build them up and break them down. It's a chefs kiss.

Vee is no different! The set-up for her character was perfectly slotted in to what the other characters needed for their time in the human-realm. And the theme I think the human-realm was supposed to embody.

The demon-realm arc for Luz was a hero's journey, but because of the foil of the trope, and that the point was that: there is no hero/chosen one actually, and the rebels didn't make it in time like in the books, and just because it's a different realm it didn't mean Luz could escape - escapism is temporary.

Dana has said grief and hope are core elements of the story, and she chose to tell it through a foiled trope of being chosen/hero's journey, layered with a religious trauma lens.

To me, looking at Luz as the main character, means looking at her as a nerdy girl in need of escapism, wanting to find purpose, and avoiding her emotions about her dad's passing.

The return to human-realm would be, for Luz, a turning point where TOH turns from being about a hero's journey and a journey about the steps of grief and healing - at the end of it, she will find the light.

Vee, to me, is kind of like a new take on the guide character. She is not a guide, in the sense that she has all the answers, but rather all the truths.

She was right when she told Luz she had everything and still chose to run away. They're not the same. Vee is also a lot better than Luz at being normal and fitting in, something Luz has been playing off and avoiding facing. Luz sees herself as being different as a bad thing, she tried to run away to a place where "weird" was normal and that didn't work out. Now she's back home and feels that it's all her fault bad things happened, because she is herself. And the person she is is different. And different didn't mean special, just different. Of course she's depressed.

The same is true for all the other characters. Vee gets to reflect their truths too, simply by being crafted, narratively, into being the guide.

Hunter gets to face his actions as the GG, come to terms with the nuances of his bad actions, whatever reason he committed what he did. Find forgiveness not just from Vee but himself too. He gets to start over, just like her. She shows him it's possible.

Gus gets someone to share his dream with, his love and enthusiasm for the human realm. A place that Vee feels is more home than where she came from. Gus gets to grow as a person, both morally and intelligently. As does Vee, she gets somebody who shows her that she doesn't just have to be a refugee, she can have a purpose here. She can be an ambassador.

Willow was set up to have an arc where she mistook her newfound magical and physical strengths (she is working out a lot in canon after she changed track), for inner strengths. Willow is a sensitive girl, and a bit of a berserk (I mean she was willing to burn her own mind just to hurt Amity). Willow having to face Vee, who isn't physically stronger than her but is significantly further down the road of being internally strong, is something Willow can learn from. Perhaps even have conflict with! (but more so a conflict with herself than with Vee, really.)

With Amity, Vee has a simpler role. I think to Amity it's more so showing that it's possible to live in the human realm, and giving her hope that going back and forth is a future for everyone who wishes to do so. Creatively speaking, I think Amity and Vee more so to bounce off one another for the plot, rather than character growth or decline.

Camila, I think, is the most interesting. Because she has now spent approximately a year with Vee, half of it thinking she was Luz and having feelings about her daughter having changed so much, the line "I'm glad youre still creative" comes to mind. As well as the terror of losing Luz again. But also, because she has had her own unseen arc and development with Vee, and them having bonded into a foster family that we never got to see glimpses of, it goes without saying that Camila has already done the internal work to take on more kids if that's necessary. I think she saw these kids by her door and thought "yep. They're mine now too." Vee, I think, is interesting to toss into the family dynamic between Luz and Camila, who seemingly are misunderstanding one another significantly. Vee sees them both, and can be a voice of reason when it comes to it. Or if it would come to it.

ANYWAY MY RANTS ARE LONG. IM DONE. THANKS FOR READING.

#TOH #the owl house #toh vee #vee noceda

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biteofcherry · 9 months

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I see you're being a menace Navy! And at the very start of the week 😜 Then I shall fight your attack @navybrat817 with a beast of my own! 😏 Who's not scared of the big bad wolf?

Bad Moon Rising

alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings: none; a bit of dirty talk; brief mention of chase kink; shifter!Ari; wolf!Ari; alpha!Ari;

You chop the ingredients with viciousness, pouring into it your need to stab a certain someone and cut off the invisible ties which bound your future.

Yet you keep it diced nicely, instead of turning everything into a mush.

Partly because you aren't that childish to act out, but also because your mother ingrained enough of proper hospitality behavior that you couldn't simply shake it off to spite a bloody Alpha.

Especially not when he was invited to your family home, by your parents, for a Sunday dinner.

So they could meet their future son-in-law officially; as if Ari didn't drag you back marked with his cum, after chasing you through the woods a week ago.

You were annoyed that everyone seemed to forget about that part, but you were also glad they never pointed out how you clung to his side despite glaring murderous intent at him.

Was it the vulnerability that you tried to shield yourself behind the big Alpha, or did that instinctive chase and victorious marking successfully lured your wolf side to accept Ari as your mate?

You're not sure.

You scrubbed your body clean of his cum, yet it still feels like his smell lingers on you. Your tongue tingles and mouth fills with saliva whenever you think of the salty taste of him.

With an angry grunt, you chop a cucumber in half. Then dice it with precise, quick moves.

Pity you didn't have the knife with you when you opened the door earlier. You could've stabbed Ari in the thigh when he greeted you with a grin and a comment that he's surprised to see you waiting in place, since he half expected to have to chase after you again.

He brought gifts, because apparently he was raised well, even though you thought him to be the most primitive beast.

A bouquet of flowers for your mother, a bottle of top shelf bourbon to share with your father, and a blackberry tart for dessert (which was one of your favorites and you found yourself annoyed that he chose so well).

Cursing under your breath, you stand up on your tiptoes to reach the black glass bowl on the highest shelf. Your fingertips barely reach it.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your middle. Solid, hot body presses against your back.

You're startled, but the familiar now scent of pine and moss wraps around you, caressing your animal side like the gentlest pet.

You gulp, watching muscles flex beneath the bronzed skin on Ari's forearm as he easily reaches the bowl and takes it down for you.

"You're trembling," Ari notices, keeping you caged between his massive body and the counter.

He splays his fingers over your belly, the other hand tracing along the goosebumps on your arm. You feel the coarse denim of his jeans against the back of your thighs; your sundress too thin to block the warmth of him from seeping in.

"A mountain of a man, who could easily break my neck with one hand, sneaked up on me. Of course I'm trembling."

You don't believe your own lie, either. The cool indifference you hoped to carry your voice sounded too husky.

Ari's lips graze the shell of your ear. Puff of his breath seems to disperse through your whole body, like an echo calling out to your nature.

"We both know the only parts I'm going to break are your holes, little Omega," his voice is deceptively soft; more of a promise than a threat and your body ignites at the prospect.

You hope the smell of baked potatoes and roast resting out of the oven is enough to mask the splash of your arousal, but with the Alpha's sharpened senses you're not sure it helps cover your reaction.

So you lightly jab an elbow into his stomach to push him away (before he makes a mess out of you, or before your parents find you in a compromising position).

"Don't be crude," you huff, filling your hands with chopped veggies and tossing them into the bowl.

Ari chuckles, but steps aside. Not far enough for your liking, only a few inches as he leans his hip against the counter and studies your profile.

His head slightly tilted, Ari licks his lips, dragging his teeth over the bottom lip as he watches you dip a finger into the jar with dressing and bring it up to your lips to taste the seasoning.

"I'm not made to be waxing poetics," he admits with a shrug. "But I also don't think they'd work on you."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything about me." You tilt your chin up, pouring the dressing over the salad.

"I know you're determined. Smart. And strong willed." Ari sounds as impressed and fascinated as he did that first night you met him. "I also know you're closer to the wild, animal side than you let on."

He traces a finger along your shoulder, flicking the strap of your dress aside.

"I know you've got as much of thrill from the chase as I did," Ari's finger draws lower, across the swell of your breast.

"I know your wolf accepts me. And that you're primed to take me even now..."

His finger presses against your stiffened nipple and your knees threaten to give out.

It's the truth that scares you the most. You're a shifter - part human and part wolf. And that night when Ari hunted you down, your wolf submitted.

The bitch fucking yielded in delight for the big bad Alpha.

"Stop it!" You slap Ari's hand away and adjust the strap back into place.

"Take this out to the backyard," you place the bowl in his hands. "You were supposed to be there, anyway. You're a guest, act like one."

Ari's fingertips brush yours as he takes the bowl from you, the contact, though minimal, makes your heart jump.

"Only three weeks, little Omega," he says, holding your gaze. "Three weeks until the ceremony. Then I'll have all of you."

You can't be thinking about that; about the details of the ceremony and the bond that will tie you to Ari forever. Every time your thoughts briefly turn in that direction, your wolf perks up in some wild need and you end up drenched and restless.

"Well," you lick your lips, yanking your hands away from Ari's touch, "maybe I'll run away."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Ari grins, so fucking cocky.

He winks at you, then leaves the kitchen. For a short moment you consider if you'd menage to run away this very moment.

#navybrat817 #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #alpha!ari levinson #alpha!ari levinson x omega reader #ari levinson x female reader #alpha ari levinson x omega female reader #ari levinson imagine #bad moon rising

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chilumi-shipper · 1 year

Text

Forget and Regret (2)

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of "Forget and Regret", Ayato is being plagued by dreams, you think he doesn't need you anymore, but for some reason, he really can't just leave you alone. Many moments of pain came before comfort.

Tags: Angst w/ happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, A little swearing, Maybe a little naughty in the end (nothing explicit)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ayato walked into the room, his eyes landing on a girl lying on his bed, her shoulders shaking as little sobs filled the quiet room.

Her figure was covered by a blanket, and though he could not see her up front, he knew that she was clutching the sheets to her chest.

"Love?" He called out for the girl, the endearment falling naturally from his lips.

The girl did not look at him, but he knows that he's gained her attention.

She tried to control her breath, trying not to make her shallow and sobbing breaths obvious.

"I-I'm sorry..." The girl said in such a small and quiet voice, the stuttering making it obvious that she had been crying. "I k-know it's stupid, b-but I just wanted to give you a g-gift." Ayato had been hearing a lot of this 'gift' thing. He has no idea what is happening, yet the sight of the girl crying in front of him just makes him want to coddle her and make her feel better.

"I should say my apologies as well, my love..." His mouth moved on its own, letting him say words for which he did not know the context. "I didn't mean to lose my temper. I may have been angry, but I would never ever dream of hurting you."

"I-I regret not saying this sooner, my dear Y/-"

The Yashiro Commissioner stirred awake, groaning as his eyes slowly opened.

He grabbed a pillow by his side and covered his face with it.

Yet another dream, of the same girl, no less.

And every single time, every waking moment after a dream like that, Ayato felt like his heart was being vigorously tugged on, a sense of regret oozing from the back of his mind. And try as he might, no explanation ever arose to answer his questions.

So, just like every time that this happened, he shrugged off the feelings conveyed by the dreams before finally getting out of bed.

...

"Have you heard? The Commissioner and his wife had a fight." You hear the whispered rumours of some of the workers in the estate, making you sigh.

"Yeah, but people have been saying that she left him. Here she is now, though, so maybe it's all just exaggerated."

"No! I was here a few weeks ago, and I heard the Lord himself screaming angrily. Could it be that he was mad at Lady Kamisato?"

"Could be, not to mention that Lady Ayaka has been acting weird lately. She's taking over all of the Lord's duties; I wonder what's happening inside their home."

"Ladies, please. Let's all just stop with all the gossip and get to work?" Thoma approached the workers gathered around to talk about the Kamisato siblings and you, keeping his polite smile as he asked them to get back to work.

After the group got back to their duties, the blonde walked up to you.

"My lady." He addressed you like always, making you look down a bit. "The Shuumatsuban thanks you for your generous donations and help on their mission against the Fatui."

Lately, you've been going back to the estate, both to gather your things without attracting attention and to pay back for what you did a few weeks back.

You also did some digging around the Fatui in Inazuma; it took quite a while, and though it almost got you in danger with the organization, you got a few useful pieces of information for the Shuumatsuban. You feel that this is only appropriate because you accidentally sabotaged them before.

"Umm, please tell them that I'm glad I could do something good for them." You smiled at him, feeling a little bit flustered. Your interactions with Thoma have been very awkward lately; he's still against what you're doing with Ayato. "Thanks for everything, Thoma."

He merely nods before watching you walk out of the estate, presumably going back home.

"I didn't know that she worked here." The retainer heard his lord's voice from behind him, making him turn around to face him. "I wish I had the chance to talk to her again." Thoma noticed how Ayato's blueish-purple eyes followed the trail you walked on, perhaps thinking about you as he did so.

This is why he thinks what you're doing is silly. One look at his lord and he sees the interest in you oozing from him, even at his current state.

"Well, technically, she doesn't work here. But she plays a very important role in the estate." Thoma clarified, making the periwinkle-haired man think.

"Oh, what do you mean by that, Thoma?" The Commissioner asked curiously.

"Well, though I do want to explain, I know it would be far better if she did so herself, my lord." He left it at that, not letting Ayato press further.

...

"Hi."

As you were fixing everything up at the front of the Kamisato Estate, you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around, your eyes meeting another pair that looked pleased to see you. "Y/N, I was hoping to see you again." Ayato said with a smile.

Your breath hitched, you instinctively walked a little away from him.

"Oh, no need to be nervous or anything. I mean, I know I'm kind of an important figure or something, but..." He cleared his throat, chuckling a little. "I hope that I don't scare you away."

You sighed, bowing your head. "Lord Kamisato, I'm just finishing up my work."

"No need for formalities, you can just call me Ayato. After all, I owe you my life." He stated, walking a bit closer to you. "Thank you again, I can't stress that enough."

You couldn't look up at his face, not up his smiling and gentle face, at least not while keeping yourself from bursting to tears, admitting that you're his wife and that you did something that made him resent you.

He looked at your timid form, your hands clasped together tightly. Perhaps he should do something to ease the tension you were feeling.

"Once again, you're welcome, my lord. I..." His ears perked, he heard you sniffle, and he could've sworn that your hand reached up to your face to wipe a tear away.

It's all too familiar for him for some reason.

He has no idea what is happening, yet the sight of the girl crying in front of him just makes him want to coddle her and make her feel better.

"I'm... g-gonna take my leave now." You quickly ran away from him, making Ayato look at your running figure in shock.

He truly did not expect you to be overwhelmed just by talking to him.

And he couldn't explain why, but something in him screamed to run after you and hug you and tell you that everything is okay and that he's sorry.

...Are you... her?

...

Everyday after that encounter, it seems that the periwinkle-haired man was always there by you're side, trying to initiate a conversation.

You've gotten better at containing yourself around him. But still, you'd rather him not be there, you'd rather not be on the brink of heart attack every minute of the day.

Once you realized that he was gonna try and talk to you everytime you go to the estate, you actively tried to spend as little amount of time as possible.

Thoma and Ayaka were not gonna let that happen though.

You were about to leave and take a few days off, but then Thoma approached you. "My lady, Lady Ayaka was hoping that you'd come in tomorrow and help her with the organization of the upcoming festival." He passed on your sister-in-law's message. "Since you've helped my lord with this business before, you might be a great help."

You honestly should have seen this coming. And even if they're making it seem like you had a choice, they knew you'd cave in, they knew you'd come tomorrow and try to help.

They most certainly planned to give Ayato the chance to work on the festival so that you help him with it instead of Ayaka when you came in the next day.

"So... this is my job."

You hated to admit that you were amused with Ayato's reactions to things he had to do.

"Yes, my lov- my lord." He cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn't catch that mistake. You chastised yourself, for letting your guard down.

"What do we do first?" Though you found his excitement to work again and rediscover what he does for a living very cute and amusing, you stand stiff and focused.

He's not your husband.

You remind yourself constantly as you work on the task at hand.

The cycle continues though, Ayaka and Thoma will make sure that you have a reason to come back to the estate, basically setting Ayato up for at least an hour with you almost everyday.

And you could not even describe how tired you are, tired of constantly being on your guard, tired of pretending to not be his wife.

But this is for him, this is what he wants. He said so himself, you should always remember that.

...

He wants to take you out on a date.

Though Ayato had many conflicting feelings about his situation, and his lost memories, he thought that surely making some nice memories bow would do him some good.

Ayato finds that you are quite shy towards him, never meeting his eyes and always speaking to him in a low and mumbly voice.

He found your mannerisms cute too! Even when you don't look at him much, he often has his eyes on you, seeing how your eyes light up a bit when he says something funny or amusing.

Which is why he asked the help of his sister and his retainer to ask you out on a date around town.

"Y/N, may I talk to you, please?" You heard Ayaka's soft voice call out for you.

You walked up to her. "Umm... Anything I can for you?" Again, awkward interactions because she also doesn't approve of your actions.

"I was thinking, brother really wants to explore around the city, especially since the festival that you both planned starts tomorrow night." You already knew what she was gonna say next.

Thoma stood next to her, "I think my lord feels the most comfortable around you, so why not go with him tonight?"

You sighed, looking at them with a frown. "Guys, please... I-I know what you're doing. Thoma, you heard him! He wants nothing to do with me." Thoma looked at you disapprovingly.

"My lady, Lord Ayato loves you more than anything. Why hurt the both of you like this over things that were said out of angry?"

"Y/N... do you still love my brother?" Ayaka looked at you expectantly, her voice laced with doubt.

You looked at her in disbelief. "...I love him more than anything, words cannot explain just how much." You stated firmly, closing your eyes as a few tears fell from your eyes. "And I know he's better off without me."

Ayaka's hands closed into a fist, "I'm your family too! I love you too! You can't just leave us, not because of a stupid fight!" Tears of her own fell down her face, sobs escaping her mouth.

Thoma held her to make sure she didn't break down to the ground. You stood there in shock, before snapping out of it and cupping Ayaka's face.

"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry." You pulled her into a hug, and she immediately melted into you. "I won't completely vanish. I promise I'll still be here, even if I'm not your sister-in-law anymore." You felt her shake her head on your shoulder.

But she couldn't speak anymore, she merely hugged you and sobbed away. You couldn't help but cry along with her.

...

"Y/N!" You immediately wiped away your tears, hearing Ayato's voice call your name.

Ayaka left you and went back into the house half an hour ago, and you decided to stay for a bit and let some tears out before running off home.

His voice was friendly and cheery, "Thoma and Ayaka said that they talked to you about... Um, you know, tomorrow night..." He scratched the back of his head, acting a bit flustered. "It may seem lame to ask you out using my sister, hehe." He's completely unaware of what happened half an hour prior.

"So what do you say?" He looked at you expectantly.

He's not your husband.

Say no.

"I'll meet you at Uyuu Restaurant at seven."

You wanted to choke yourself to death for being a frustrating and stubborn little bitch.

...

The people of Inazuma aren't aware of what happened to the Yashiro Commissioner, the Kamisato Clan made sure no news ever got leaked. To the eyes of others, it may just look like the Lord of the Kamisato Clan and his wife going out for an evening together, but in reality, everything is just a complicated mess.

And you are extremely tired, so, to finally end everything and let Ayato go, you concocted a plan so that Ayato wouldn't ever want to be with you ever again.

You were gonna be the most infuriating date ever.

Showing up late and putting no effort to how you look, eating a lot, asking for many expensive things, judging his every move, things like that. That should be enough, right?

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

No, it wasn't.

7:10 pm

You walked up to the table Ayato was sitting in. You were in your sleepwear, a purple matching cotton pajamas and top with your hair in a messy bun.

His eyes found yours and he immediately smiled. "You look really cute."

Your mouth dropped, seriously?!

7:20 pm

"I would like Sakura Tempura, a Sashimi Platter, an Egg Roll, and Dango, please!" You said to the waiter, looking at Ayato to see his reaction.

"Is that too much?" You asked him, hoping to provoke him a little.

"Not at all!" He stated with a smile, looking down on his menu. "Your orders are actually quite cheap. How about I order you some sake and more dessert as well?"

"No nee-" You couldn't stop him from ordering those for you too.

This isn't working.

8:00 pm

That festival mask was 10,000 mora. This may be too much, but you had to do something to salvage the plan.

"Ayato, look!" You exclaimed, setting his attention to the mask. It has many intricate designs, and a few gems stuck on it.

"Do you want it? I bet it would look very pretty on you."

'Ohhh... but the mask is really expensive...' You were feeling already feeling sorry.

"Y-Yeah..." You said quietly, but he heard it, taking out a bag of mora and approaching the merchant selling it.

You weren't paying attention, so when you felt him place the mask on your head, just above your face, your cheeks flushed.

"Just as I suspected, gorgeous..."

8:30 pm

This isn't working...

You've been walking and doing all kinds of things in the festival for a while, and the date is going so well. This wasn't supposed to happen!

You even tried being rude to him, saying how he walks too slow, his clothes are uneven, or he... you weren't really good at being rude.

"You walk too slow."

"I apologize if I'm bothering you. If you'll allow it, let me hold your hand so that we stay with each other's pace." You walked around the festival hand in hand for the rest of the date.

"Your clothes are uneven."

"Oh, I can't really see it. Can you fix the uneven part for me?" So then, you were stuck fixing the nonexistent uneven part of his clothes, holding the fabric.... just like when you would fix his clothes for him in the morning back then...

'No... stop that, please.'

Ayato's pleasant self negated every 'bad' thing you did.

He could only be more amused as he saw you very obviously thinking, perhaps of another 'insult' you could throw at him.

You were just too cute.

9:00 pm

He invites you to go to Amakumo Island with him as an ending to your date. Seems he got the whole night planned out... he does that a lot for your dates, which you do find amusing.

...Stop.

Of course, you could only agree, knowing that Thoma and Ayaka would light your butt on fire if you ever left Ayato on his own tonight (a part of your decision maybe because you wanted to spend more time with your husband, but you still didn't have a choice).

You sat at the peek of the small island, looking at the see that reflected the stars in the night. It's a beautiful night.

Ayato sighed, scooting a bit closer to you. When you looked at his face, you could see that it seems to display an expression of contentment.

He turns to look at you, making you immediately straightened your head, trying to make it look like you weren't looking at him just then.

It obviously didn't work as an amused chuckle left his lips.

He's not your husband.

But this is still very nice.

You felt his hand going on to hold yours, and you know that all you've been trying to do that night was get him to not like you, and you've honestly tried and failed to do so.

In that moment, you just gave in, finding it hard to move your hand away from his. You even assured him by lightly squeezing his hand.

This is the most relaxed you felt in weeks. If only things can stay this way.

...

"I'm really glad I met you, Y/N."

...

No, you couldn't hold it anymore.

Slowly, tears started going down your face. The more they fell, the less you could control yourself to stop crying. An overwhelming amount of emotions, blocked by a dam finally broke open, and you finally let it all out.

Ayato's expression changed, becoming shocked as you let out little sobs while trying to wipe your tears away. He saw you try to control your breathing, just like the girl in his dreams, he heard the little whimpers coming out of you, the same he heard from that girl.

You let his hand go, "I'm sorry..." You hiccuped, standing up and immediately running away from him.

"Y/N!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE!" You shouted at him.

"Sometimes, I wish I never met you."

Just like then, you ran back to your home, collapsing on the floor in a fit of whimpers and sobs.

"He's not my husband..." You repeated in your mind. That man you went on a date with wasn't your husband, your husband was the Ayato that said he wished he hadn't met you, that looked at you in anger and shame.

The Ayato you were just with was a person you met a few weeks ago after you saved him.

They aren't the same.

Your husband doesn't love you anymore. He wouldn't ever ask you on a date anymore. He wouldn't say he was happy that he met you.

"He's not my husband..." You did not believe in your own words.

Ayato walked alone through Chinju Forest with a solemn face. He kept thinking back to the look of your face and how you were trying desperately to calm yourself down.

He didn't like the look of your crying face, he could even sense the pain you were feeling as you let whimpers escape your shaking lips. The scene sent needles to his heart.

And just as he thought that it was the perfect date.

Did he do something to make you react that way?

As he was thinking, a glimmering object shone in the corner of his eye, immediately gaining his attention. Ayato looked around, before seeing something on the ground reflecting the glow of the moon.

Leaning down to pick it up, he saw a ring, and as he looked at it longer, he felt a raging headache attack his mind.

He groaned, it wasn't as if that was the only time he got headaches, they were quite frequent.

But he couldn't help but feel some sort of familiarity towards the ring, like he has seen it before.

The ring looked extremely special. He decided to bring it with him and hopefully Thoma might be able to help him find who the owner is.

But the number one thing in his mind right now is you.

He hopes that you're alright.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ayato head was already aching when he came home to a small box on his bed.

It looks like it has gone through some stuff, it has dents everywhere and it looked like it was thrown around.

Is it for him?

Since it was on his bed, he decides to opens it, finding a piece of paper inside along with an even smaller black box.

"Ayato, I really hope you like this gift! It might not make sense when you first open it, but I have a proper explaination about what it is. I'd like to explain you in person."

The bottom of the paper has the words "I love you," in it, as well as a "From your beloved wife, Y/N".

His breath hitched.

Within the black box, he saw a necklace with a charm of what he can assume to be a constellation.

Ayato took out the ring in his pocket, like his memory has been jogged.

You...

You were wearing a ring that looked like it paired with the ring in his hands now.

As Ayato was planning to hold your hand while you were looking away from him, he noticed a ring on your ring finger.

Perhaps it was just the right fit for that finger instead of your middle, that's why you were wearing it there.

The ring was beautiful though, something he would probably pick out for something special.

When he held your hand, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of your hands together, his eyes especially still focused on your ring.

Maybe you forgot, but you left your wedding ring on when you went out for your date.

"I'd like to explain to you in person."

He wasted no time in taking that offer.

Rushing out of the estate, Thoma immediately stepped in his way.

"My lord, you can't just leave! Especially by yourself. Remember what Lady Ayaka said to you." The blonde blocked his master's path, seeing the Yashiro Commissioner's hurried steps to the estate exit.

Thoma's eyes landed on the box within Ayato's hand, noticing the tight grip on the familiar cover.

Oh...

His green eyes then saw his Lady Ayaka, standing far behind her brother. His mouth parted in disbelief.

Has Ayaka taken matters into her own hands?

Without Ayato noticing, the two's eyes were locked, and then Ayaka gave their retainer a firm nod, signalling for Thoma to let her brother go.

"You don't understand, Thoma! I need to-" Ayato was just about to argue, but his words were cut short when the blonde just gave way for him.

"I understand more than you might think, my lord." Thoma sighs, crossing his arms. "Y/N, she... she lives in Konda Village."

Ayato was shocked to say the least, can Thoma really read him so easily?

His mind was filled with confusion, many unanswered questions. But one remained on top of his priority, and he needed to get to you now.

Without another word, he hurries off into the forest, on his way to the village you resided in. Despite the tiredness, he pushed on to go to you.

Yet Thoma's final words didn't escape his ears.

"You aren't the only one that needs to remember."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Fatigue was spreading all over his body.

But he hoped that he can still make it to you.

He doesn't expect an explanation to be served up to him in a silver platter, given that everything after his accident seems to have been a mess.

He can't fully wrap his head around the situation.

If what he read was true and you're his wife....

If you're the mysterious girl that he was chasing in his dreams....

If you love him and he loves you...

Why would you do this to him?

"Don't go..." His voice was a little playful, but you could sense that there was some sincerity in his words.

You giggled as you packed your clothes for your business trip to Watatsumi Island. "Ayato..." You feel warmth spread through your chest as he hugged you from behind.

"This is my job, as a lady of your clan." His embrace only tightened, stopping your from packing your things. "It's only for two days, my dear."

"Two daysss..." He whined quite dramatically, placing his chin on your shoulder so that you could visibly see his pout. "Who I am suppose to cuddle during bedtime and kiss awake in the morning?"

You sighed in amusement, turning so that you're now facing him. "I promise that when I get back, you can have all the cuddles and kisses you want."

"I want a very exclusive week of you being with me at all times as well."

"Hmmm, why?"

"Because I'm gonna be very deprived in the next two days so you're gonna have to nurture me back to health afterwards." He argued like a child, very unlike him outside of the privacy of your bedroom. You liked having this side of him all to yourself.

"Alright, fine. Now sit down so I can pack properly without interruptions." You said jokingly, pushing him to sit on your bed.

You were able to get through a few more minutes of undisturbed packing, until...

"Don't goooo..."

"Don't go." He whispered into the air, his hurried steps turned to slow walking. This has always been the case since his accident, he gets very tired so much faster than before.

That... memory... that just played in his head...

Was it real?

You and "him"... looked so in love with each other.

"Have you ever thought about an heir?" You stopped in your tracks, hearing the voice of your husband's friend coming from the living room.

"Ahhh, I definitely have thought about it. But I will always consider what my wife wants with this subject." You hear your husbands voice after that.

Eavesdropping may not be very proper and polite, but you couldn't help it. Such a topic never even made it's way to your past conversations.

"Does your wife not want a child?"

You thought about it youself... it would be nice to have a little family with Ayato, with a cute little baby boy or girl to share your love for.

"I honestly don't know, never talked to her about it."

...

When Ayato went into your room for the night, you looked at him intently, much to his surprise.

"Is there something on my face, darling?" He asked, as your gaze never faltered.

You shook your head, then he merely shrugged off and went through his nighttime routine.

Still, his curiousity peaked when he went to lay down with you and you remained looking at him the same way.

"Umm, darling-"

"Yes, I do want a family with you."

Despite his cool and dignified self, Ayato couldn't hide his surprise at your sudden statement. Looking at his expression, you sighed, before doing what was the only thing that could make your husband even more at a lost for words.

You straddled him, sitting on his lap.

"Is... is that okay?" You asked when he didn't give a respond to your statement.

"Yes... please." You couldn't help but giggle, as your sly husband was at a lost for words.

"I would love to have a family with you."

Ayato's head started spinning.

His vision was getting blurry.

He was going to collapse.

Happy...

He looked so happy with you.

Even then, even now, he's happy... with you.

He just doesn't understand why... why you lied to him.

And as he fell on his knees from sheer exhaustion, his memory further gave answers.

"All of this happened because of a stupid fucking package, huh?" You flinched a bit when he cursed, feeling even more pathetic than you were a few minutes ago. It's even worse because it's true, all this did happened because of your package.

"I... I didn't k-know-" Your voice was soft and gentle, yet still full of shame. You sat on the couch with your head hung low.

"What is so fucking important that you had to ruin so much of our work?!" You couldn't answer, you just kept quiet, because to be honest, it wasn't anything important, and you were stupid for ordering it in the first place.

Your husband wiped his face with his hand in frustration, mumbling a bunch of other curse words. You stood up, walking closer to him and reaching your hand out to comfort him.

His hand caught yours, his eyes had finally bore into yours. His teeth almost seem to grind against each other, "You know... sometimes, I just wish...."

"Sometimes I wish I never met you."

All the blurry visions he has seen in his dream, suddenly they become clear.

He held the box tight, as he felt the most painful headache starting to form.

Tears filled his eyes.

He could no longer walk, but he saw... people, they were hurriedly walking to him, and he can faintly hear their worried murmurs.

Those words "he" said, he wishes to take them back down his throat, he wishes to delete the entire scene from existence.

Yet there was nothing he could do but cling on to the memory his brain had for him next.

"Excuse me, sir." He looked up, seeing a girl smile brightly at him, her umbrella covering the rain falling from the sky.

Ayato sat below a tree that barely covered him from the rain before, but he figured that it was better than getting completely soaked. So he was planning to stay there to wait the rain out.

"I noticed that you're kinda stranded here." The girl snickered a little, covering her mouth as she laughed.

Cute. He thought, her smile influenced his lips to do the same.

"Yes, I am quite in a predicament." She offered her hand to him, pulling him up to his feet. "Thank you very much, my lady." He flashed her a calm smile along with his thanks.

"Where are you going anyway? Perhaps I can accompany you so that you don't have to wait for the weather to calm?"

He was about to go back home, but it was still quite a long way away... he decided to take a chance.

"I was about to go for a meal. Though, I find it lonely to be alone during one. So... if you have nothing else to do, perhaps I can treat you to a meal." The girl looked up at him wide-eyed, not expecting to receive such an offer. "As a thank you, miss..." He indirectly asked for the girl's name.

"Y/N." You smiled brightly at him, the scene immediately lifted his mood even more. "And I would love to join you for a meal, sir..."

"Ayato, Kamisato Ayato." You almost let go of the umbrella, but he was quick to catch on, holding your hand that was holding the umbrella steady.

A pink tint exposed themselves on your cheeks, another thing he found cute about you, among many things. "The Yashiro Commissioner?" You questioned, avoiding his gaze.

"Hmm, how about we go to Uyuu Restaurant?" He didn't answer your question, but you were certain that it was him.

Fully letting go of the umbrella, you let him take the lead as you head into the city.

"I was quite enjoying holding your hand." You turned your gaze to him, shocked at his forward comment. His smile was still there on his face, if anything, it turned kind of sly.

Not knowing how to react, you stupidly offered your hand to him. "Umm, okay..." You wanted to immediately slap yourself, yet due to nervousness, your hand remained up for the offer.

'Go down, hand! How can he even hold it when he's holding the umbrella?!' You screamed in your head.

As if listening to your thoughts, the rain came to an immediate stop. And as the man behind you noticed, he closed the umbrella, humming as if he was pleased.

When he was done, he carried it with his other hand, leaving the hand close to yours free to hold.

Ayato slipped his hand into yours. "I appreciate your kindness, my lady."

You smiled, though quite nervous... almost in like a giddy way.

You didn't look at him, hoping he doesn't notice how your hand is shaking. You merely looked up to the stars.

A constellation stuck to your memory.

Ayato sat on the grass, his mind heavy as he held the box with one hand and his head the other.

Despite the unbearable pain... remembering you was nice. So he smiled as tears fell from his eyes.

He doesn't want to forget.

"Look, it's the Yashiro Commissioner!" A worried exclaim, one he could barely hear made him look up to see a bunch of people running to his aid.

"Please, inform Lady Kamisato about the situation." The words he heard last as he fell unconscious.

Mentions (People that have been waiting for 8 months)(I'm sorry): @nasidibakar @kisum9 @kittycasie @ramvuda @the-real-fandom-person @xiaopleasecomehome @lswtamashi @rustybucketofghosts @him3ru @tartagliasmoneybag @eurooki @spicycloudsalad @icarusignite @foxlady99 @mnoxsk and others I couldn't mention for some reason.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Here's Part 3

This is really long because the first one was really short hehe. I really hope you liked it. And yes, I am really sorry for updating so late, and just not uploading in general. :((

I am now very busy, but I try. I love writing despite it taking over my sleep schedule and if only I was faster and more creative, I would have a lot for you guys.

See you when I see you ^-^

Might take months to post again ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato angst #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato fluff #kamisato ayato x reader

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nincompoopydoo · 3 months

Text

CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE

BETRAYAL — ; PART 8 / 9

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.7k SUMMARY: Awakening in an unfamiliar setting with restored memories, you encounter someone familiar. However, a lingering sense of betrayal clouds the reunion. Meanwhile, Theseus uncovers a concealed message in your letters, hinting at the potential discovery of your location. A/N: Hi everyone! I know I said I was going to put this on permanent hiatus until I was ready to pick it up again, but your girl finished her degree (kinda did badly, but glad it's over!), and now I have ample time to put all my energy of my one brain cell into finishing this series before I fall into depression again lol. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for all the love for this series and my baby, Theseus <3 I'm also sorry for ending it with another cliffhanger haha WARNINGS: Angst. Kinda scary shit (I literally scared myself while writing this lol) no beta we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Your environment is an enigma through the lenses of tunnel vision—hues of darkness circle in textures, contrasts of colour that dance along with your darting eyes. Your slow mind tries to keep up with your sight, unravelling the mysteries of your surroundings.

You first notice wood. Brown, battered, dim–a wooden beam trailing along the expanse of plastered white walls, grimed with dirt and age. Through blinkered sight, you catch a glimpse of light, dim orange hues casting fluttering shadows on the wall. You see it now, a flame dancing upon melting wax perched on a rustic candlestick.

Flame. Fire. Heat.

You remember it all now.

Inferno swept through the foundations of your tiny household, leaving you and the fragility of your lungs gasping for air as you stumbled around for an exit. Yet, things were dense, billowing colours of deep grey and red, blinding your vision. You still feel the parchedness scratching down your throat.

You remember how your hands clambered to grasp something before falling to your knees. You remember how your environment began to twist and spurn before your very eyes, vivid colours of the blaze swirling.

Then, everything went black.

…

…You…

You remember emerald cobblestones—a mesmerising golden statue.

You remember the warmth of the colour red – the trees in fall, the crackling of a fireplace, a desk with scattered papers across its surface.

You remember.

Theseus.

Dim blue eyes. Sad. Freckled cheeks. Flushed. Brown hair curled and tumbled in autumnal hues. Trees. Barcham trees that line the sidewalk are carpeted in autumn gold. The tenement. His home. Warm, petite, charming. Gardenias. Tea. Your suitcase. Magic.

Little glimpses of returning memories flood your whirling mind like gushing water. It’s overwhelming. For weeks, you sat with a sense of longing, a missing piece, settled within the depths of your mind. And now, it all traces back to the odd familiarity of the man you met on the bus. Perhaps you recognised the glint in his eye when his eyes met yours or the patterned freckles along his cheeks, tinted in blotches of red from embarrassment.

You remember.

Your elbows immediately shift under you, perched as you rose midway, wondering yet blurry eyes moving along your surroundings. You’re in a room, and it’s not your own. Small, humble, solid walls encircle your surroundings. You have seen places like these during the war. You push yourself up, weight now on your splayed-out palms on what you realise to be a settee. It creaks at your very touch, and every little shift echoes throughout the room.

Its walls are far from pristine, with petite flowers scattered across the yellowed wallpaper with tears at its curling edges, perfectly still yet timeworn.

Your eyes trace the trails of sunlight that glow through the room, diluted by a translucent curtain that hangs before a window, shadows of a tree swaying in the gentle wind.

There’s a bed on the far left of the room, narrow and meticulously made with a quilt reminiscent of autumn hues. You can barely distinguish its patchwork from where you are, and it itches a part of your brain – a sense of familiarity.

Before you can make sense of that feeling, you are overcome with searing pain. Tearing through your head and coursing through the very confinements of your skull as if something was begging to break free from the back of your mind.

Eyes squeezed shut, you cannot help but bring your palms to the sides of your head, the heels of your hands harshly pinned to your temples, yet all you see are flashing lights dancing around in the darkness.

Then, a flash. White. Blinding.

At that moment, you found yourself transported to an apartment. Yellow-bricked, warm honey-coloured hues of Autumn. Golden, falling leaves. Bright eyes, cheeks tinged with a touch of red. Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun. Like you hold a weight of significance, a tapestry to his existence.

“I know I’ve said this a thousand time before, but I’m sorry. Truly. You don’t deserve to be involved in this.”

You feel yourself smile; tears threaten to slip from your saddened eyes.

“I would usually say it’s alright, but I don’t think I can say it for everything that has happened. But, thank you.”

A hand reaches for his, gentle and soft to the touch. You feel his fingers twitch under your hold.

“Truly.”

Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun.

Theseus looks at you…

Theseus…

Suddenly, you find yourself in a narrow bus. You see him blinking wide-eyed at you, his expression paled. You had said – no, asked something.

“No. I don’t think we do.”

You see it, the pain in his eyes, the sadness in his tone. It clenches your heart, but you don’t know why.

That was the first time he had lied to you.

…

You hear your name.

Distant but frantic. It repeats again and again and again.

A grip on the curve of your shoulders, and you find yourself back in the narrow, unknown room you awoke in moments ago.

But then you see his eyes, his tousled hair. It’s him who calls you.

“Theseus?” you breathed, disbelief flickering in your wide eyes. Without a second thought, your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress shirt as if to ground yourself in the reality of his presence. A counterpoint to the disarray within your mind.

But as Theseus meets your gaze, a furrow forms on his brow, and a shadow eclipses the warmth in his eyes. The frown, subtle yet profound, settles an uneasiness in you. Your grip weakens.

“We need to go. Now.” His tone is cut-throat, laden with urgency, and you cannot help but jolt at his words. You find your fingers slowly releasing their hold as the weight of his statement settles in the room.

He pulls away and reaches for your elbow, swift and deliberately, that reflects the gravity of the situation. His touch is so firm that it prompts you to stand. Questions hang heavy in the air, but you know you’re in some kind of trouble. Yet, you catch your eyes lingering on the dark look in his own, and you can't help but think he's changed since you last saw him. Since you last remembered him.

Something feels…wrong, but you don’t give yourself a chance to even think about it before you’re being led out the door.

The narrow corridor stretches ahead, dimly lit, bricked walls with a single lamp casting a glow across the space, revealing its worn walls and your flickering shadows. The air is cool, carrying a faint scent of dampness that permeates the space. All you hear is footsteps reverberating along the narrow passage, echoing against the walls. You realise you are underground and feel your stomach lurch at that thought, making your skin crawl.

“Come on.” Theseus pulls you along, the grip on your elbow never weakening. You can feel the tension emanating from him, the stiffness in his movements, the rigidity of his jaw.

You find yourself staring at the back of Theseus' head, studying how the dim light catches on his hair. He seems so different.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask.

He doesn’t respond.

Theseus continues to pull you down the corridor, and you take the time to scan your surroundings despite the quickened pace. You see the occasional rusty pipes that snake along the ceiling, contributing to a low mechanical hum and the flickering of overhead lights that seem to swing periodically at a light rumble that makes the ground shake for a second or two.

Then, he eventually comes to an abrupt halt, revealing a dead end. Your feet stagger back, trying to stop yourself from bumping into him. You see Theseus' brows furrowed in thought, eyes darting between the walls, searching. His fingers trace the rugged surface and abruptly pause as you catch sight of a carving on a specific brick, nearly invisible.

Theseus taps it, and a warm glow emanates from the wall. The carving becomes illuminated, and the wall seems to dissolve into seemingly ethereal dust. It shines golden under the dim buzzing lights. What once was a wall reveals an entrance to an alleyway; it greets you with a rush of cool air and the sounds of the city.

You step through the entrance after Theseus as he beckons for you to follow hurriedly. Yet, your focus is elsewhere as you close in on the intricate symbol carved into the brick. As you inch nearer, the features sharpen, and a sudden recognition sparks within you.

It's a Gardenia, delicately depicted.

Gardenias always had a particular significance in your life, and it’s all because of your mother. That same Gardenia on your mother’s necklace is an heirloom that spanned many generations. It was important and personal to her, and you don’t know how or why it is doing here.

Flowers for your mother – a bouquet of Gardenias.

The bigger picture materialises as if the puzzle pieces are beginning to click.

Your place in the unfolding mess remains unclear, but it hints that you've anticipated the arrival of this revelation for a long time.

Theseus is calling for you, a slight note of panic in his voice, but you ignore his calls, remaining rooted in place. As you watch the glow that details the symbol disappear, you wonder if Theseus knows everything, even though you swore you never told a soul.

Unless…

You still don’t know how you got your memories back.

As you finally turn to Theseus, there’s a gripping sense of uncertainty. His approach, marked by a frustrated expression, erodes the strong familiarity you once held for this man, a trust built in such a short time. With each step towards you, that trust begins to dissipate.

That vulnerability quickly turns to anger – betrayal.

“What the hell is happening, Theseus?” you question fiercely, pressing him for an explanation.

Again, Theseus dismisses your insistence and attempts to reach for your arm, but you instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance.

“Answer me.” you insist, voice growing louder, eyes boring into his.

His gaze lingers on your face, and you watch his expression harden, jaw tense.

“Look, you’re in deep trouble right now and it’s best we leave right now he’ll come looking for you.”

He.

Not they. Not she.

Not The Restoration Movement. Not Morrigan.

Something is very wrong.

And his eyes. You can’t quite place it, but something about the look in his eyes has shifted. They look so different.

In moments like these, you aren’t sure what to do, but you know to trust your gut. Your mind races at the possibilities of how this could all end, and the only thing you can think is to run.

And so, you run.

—

Theseus believes he has only survived through self-deceit – the deception of his ability to stay grounded and keep his emotions at bay. His heart was never to be trusted, never to give in or give up. Yet, how does one cope when a situation relies on promised perseverance but is tangled amid his emotions he suddenly lacks control of in your presence?

Theseus knows there was something between the two of you, but he will never admit it despite his now aching heart caused by your sudden disappearance, even though you might as well be considered dead to the muggle world. The thought of your death pulls his thoughts to the night he first met you, how an unforgivable curse nearly struck you, how you looked at him, knowing you couldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been there in time.

Merlin, he hopes you aren’t dead.

No, you’re not. He knows it. You’re relentless. So relentless that death would never want to claim you without a fight. So relentless that you manage to squeeze yourself into his thoughts at every waking hour. Every fibre in him wishes he hadn’t let you slip away that day, wishing he hadn’t abandoned you, betrayed your trust.

He wishes you hadn’t agreed to leave.

To leave him.

Now all alone.

Alone.

Theseus was never certain of his feelings for you when you were ambling within the expanse of the four walls he calls home. Whether affections were simply out of pity or was it his admiration for your entire being, your perfections, blemishes, and everything in between. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn’t be more unequivocally sure that his affections are true because presently, you have consumed all his waking days and nights, leaving a hollowed space perhaps once filled by your presence. The constant worry in his brow made his eyes tired but sleepless due to his fear of the worst for you.

Dread fills his senses, and tears threaten to seep through the cracks of a carefully sculpted, hard-headed man he had spent years practising, performing as a so-called war hero. Theseus never let himself cry, especially over you, not even when you parted with a touch to his cheek. Not even when he set his eyes on you again and you were completely unaware of him.

Yet, it’s the possibility he has lost you forever that he’ll never see you again. Never.

Theseus breathes a shaky breath, fingers clamped in his trembling hand as he tries to remember what he’s been told to do. To find you. To stop Morrigan. To stop whatever mess he has landed you in.

No, you’re not. You’re not dead. He reminds himself again.

The sun had set moments ago, darkness creeping between the cracks of light, shimmering from the candle alight by his tableside and the flames of the fireplace. Its crackling grounds his very notion of stirring into panic. Theseus finds himself tucked in the same corner of his living room, and his couch now houses a collection of books and particular pieces of evidence of your whereabouts.

He merely fears this has everything to do with Morrigan, the Restoration Movement, your supposed living brother and perhaps your mother – also dead. Theseus gains a strong premonition, a gut feeling that your disappearance is all a part of a larger plan than he had initially expected. Your disappearance may have caused a flurry of commotion amongst the Aurors. Still, the ministry has its sights on the movement rather than your supposed connection as more than just your brother, which Theseus feels strongly about. Yet, with Travers breathing down his neck to arrest Morrigan and her acolytes, Theseus needs solid evidence rather than vague instances and misdirected clues that all seem to lead to spiralling trails.

Frankly, his career is at stake, but he couldn’t care less.

He just wants to see you again.

Theseus heaves, fingers carding through his deep brown locks when his eye catches sight of the only two letters that he found to be related to you in one way or another. He finds himself drawn to it, finding the letter from your brother within his grasp for what seems like the millionth time this month. The same words, again and again, were already engraved in his mind.

When he shifts his elbow, the letter catches the candlelight from behind, and something immediately seizes his attention. Something he hadn’t recognised before now.

Inscribed in the very material of the parchment – the symbol of a Gardenia, its intricate lines glowing against the candlelight, seemingly burning. Theseus props up in his seat, back straightened, shoulders tensed, and eyes wide.

Bloody hell…

He scrambles for the other letter, holding it up against the light, eyes settling on the darkened edges of the page only to discover the very same symbol.

A Gardenia.

How could he have been so blind?

It must have been instinct when he decided that the two letters were puzzle pieces meant to be joined. Theseus would try anything at this point.

Seemingly, luck was finally on his side when he pressed the letters together, above one another – new words formed before his eyes, written with burning lines, every curve of each letter appeared between the gaps of the original text to only form a new paragraph.

Sister,

If you're reading this, I'm likely gone, and you're in trouble. Morrigan and The Restoration Movement hide a darker truth. Their agenda involves our mother and a woman named Miriam Monet. I'm unsure of the details, but Miriam plays a crucial role. Stay safe.

As his eyes shift down the page, his heart nearly stops when his name comes into view.

To Theseus,

If you see this, my sister is in danger. You know more than you think.

TAGLIST (tagging everyone who commented in my last post just because it's been awhile <3):

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

@inlovewithfictionalcharacters27

@aterriblelangblr

@yournewmommy

@mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@never-let-them-change-your-self

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander x you #theseus scamander oneshot #caught in a crossfire

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enthusiasticharry · 1 year

Text

the one where YN is a rising star in 1940's Hollywood, and Harry sets his eyes on her even though she's married.

author's note: two posts in two weeks? who am i? so thankful for all of the love on Desire i'm so glad you enjoyed it, and i hope you enjoy Glitz and Glamour just as much. posts are probably going to slow down again (very sorry just have a lot on plate going back to work, ugh) but imma promise that i'm not going to be gone for long, and there may even be a new series in the works ;) love ya lots!

word count: 10k of glitz, glamour, smut, fluff, angst and everything in between. (don't forget harry being a sexy rock star)

let me know what you think of Glitz and Glamour here! mwah <3

Hollywood, 1946

“I told you, Marshall, I’m not doing it.”

YN sat in her husband’s office; the pinstripe pencil skirt suit she had on giving her a sense of confidence to say what she really wants to in front of her husband. It wasn’t that she was usually a pushover in front of her husband – but his power scared her.

YN had met Marshall Miller when she was twenty-one, and she had just moved to Hollywood with nothing but a small suitcase full of all her personal belongings and a dream on her shoulders. It was at a scouting audition that she’d first met him, and YN knew that there were two things that were working on her side. The first was that she had a strive and a power to be the best actress that she could ever be, and the other was that she knew how to have men in the palm of her hand.

From being cast in her first film that day (even if it was only a minor role) she had Marshall Miller in the palm of her hand and she was holding on tight. She was in three more Marshall Miller films across the next three months, and in the fourth month of living in Hollywood she was married to one of the most influential directors in the business.

Obviously, YN had never planned for her marriage to be a business move (it was from her opinion, she didn’t know about Marshall), but she had to roll with the punches that this town gave her. She knew she would never love Marshall, but she couldn’t lie and tell herself that she didn’t appreciate the opportunities that he bestowed upon her.

That included this one – the first time that she was going to be a leading lady in a film that wasn’t just the wife of an important male lead. However, things weren’t exactly working to her plan when she received a revised version of the script which included a slightly more sexual scene (fine, whatever) but that also included her being nude.

This was the one thing that she had discussed with Marshall when she was first scouted – that she would do everything that she asked to, but she wouldn’t get nude in any scene she did. That would change the game for her acting – any last hopes for her to be known as an acting force in this life would be out of the window and she would be renamed as a ‘sex-symbol’ which wasn’t the life that she was looking for.

“I’m sorry, YN but you don’t have a choice.”

“I do have a choice, Marshall,” YN stood her ground, leaning forward in her chair and tapping her red-painted nails on top of his desk, “This is my body, Marshall, and I don’t want it recorded for everyone to see.”

“I think you’re forgetting something, YN,” He leans back in his chair and sparks up a cigarette, a look on his face that scares her and angers her all at the same time, “We’re married, you signed a contract to these studios – I own your body and what we want you to do with it.”

YN didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know whether to scream, cry or laugh her way out of the room. Instead, she stood up and spat, “Fuck you, Marshall,” at him and stormed out of the room.

There was no way in fuck that she was going back to work right now, and there was equally no way that she was going home where she may have to deal with the backlash of her actions towards her husband today – so she went to the next best place.

YN had found out about the bar that she had just walked into through some of the girls at the studio. It was a bar that many of the elite in Hollywood came to, mainly because it was underground and normally anything that happened there was kept under wraps by everybody there. It was an amazing bar, and YN loved it so much. She also knows that Marshall knows nothing about the bar, so she was completely safe.

Walking towards her normal seat at the bar, she sees that her favourite bartender in the entire world wiping a glass behind the bar. Once Bruno saw her, he beamed a smile in her direction and motioned for her to sit down. He immediately started making her a Manhattan, her favourite drink, and giving her an extra cherry because he knows she loves them.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, darling,” Bruno leans against the bar with a smile on his face, watching as she probably took a larger-than-ladylike gulp of her drink, “Rough day?”

“You know it,” She smiled at him as she slipped one of cherries off the stick and placed it into her mouth, “Thanks for this, Bruno.”

“Anytime, darling.”

To the watching eye, it would’ve been a sad sight to see YN sat by herself having multiple drinks, but it was what she needed. She didn’t know what she was going to go home to tonight and in the few months that she had been married to Marshall she knew that she could be walking into anything.

The last time that she had dared stand up in front of Marshall was a few weeks into her marriage to him, and it had ended up with him smacking her across the face. She didn’t know whether it was because he didn’t know what he signed up for when marrying her and thought that she was just going to be this perfect little wife that took everything that he said with a smile. That wasn’t the case, and YN really received the brunt of that.

That was the only singular time that Marshall had laid his hands on YN, but that was mainly because YN was strategic the next times that she said anything and made sure that she had an escape route planned so that she wouldn’t have to deal with anything like that again. Knowing that if she hadn’t left that office when she did, she would probably have had to endure something that scares her to death – but these were the games that she had to play.

YN didn’t know how long that she had been sat at the bar, but she knew that she had downed three Manhattan’s and Bruno was just placing down her fourth. She smiled at him, but he seemed to linger.

“What is it, Bruno?”

“You seem to have an admirer, Mrs. Miller.”

YN was confused by his words, but she knew that he obviously meant something. What YN didn’t expect was for probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. He was wearing a pinstripe suit, similar to her own but it was white and grey. His hat rested on the table next to him, and he had a drink which she could guess was whiskey in his hands. The second that he lifted up his drink to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her so she had to.

The second she looked away YN felt a heat rising right up her body. She pressed her hand up to the back of her neck, hoping that her hands were cool enough to spread through her body.

YN knew that she could attract men, but the circle that she was now in (especially being married to Marshall) meant that men sort of avoided her at all costs. However, right now Marshall was nowhere to be seen and every though she was in a place where some people she knows would be, there weren’t any here now. Even though that she could have some fun, she still had to remember that she was married.

That was a little bit difficult when she realised that he was no longer across the room from her but actually stood right next to her. Bruno looked at her once with wide eyes before turning to the stranger that had just invited himself to sit next to her.

“Another drink, Mr. Styles?”

“Please,” He nodded his head, placing his now empty glass on the bar in front of them, “And another one for the lady, on me.”

YN hadn’t notice that she had finished her drink, but once she had placed it down and took one fleeting glance in the stranger’s direction, she found herself heating up all over. She had definitely not expected a British accent. Even though she had quite a few drinks, she wasn’t drunk – maybe just a little tipsy.

“That really isn’t necessary, sir,” She placed her glass down, offered him a small smile and shook her head slightly.

“I think it is,” He nodded, “A beautiful girl shouldn’t be sat alone, paying for her own drinks.”

“Well…” YN had no idea what to say, and that wasn’t a state that she found herself in a lot, “Thank you, sir.”

“No problem,” As he leaned on the bar, turning on his side slightly so that he was looking directly at her she couldn’t help but look, even though every rational part of her brain was telling her not to, “It’s the least I can do.”

When both of their drinks were placed down in front of them, YN made it pretty obvious that she was married by picking up her drink that had her rings on it, and they weren’t rings that anyone could miss. It was Marshall’s second marriage, but he wasn’t sparing any expenses on his much younger bride.

YN watched his face as he realised, a light scoff of a laugh escaping his lips as he picked up his own drink.

“That’s a lovely rock you’ve got on your finger there.”

“Oh,” She extended her hand out in front of her, “This old thing?”

He laughed at her attempt at a joke (which seemed to work) and she couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. The way his face lifted when he laughed, and the dimples that he showed, and don’t even get her started on his hair.

“I must say, I am a little surprised to see a married lady in here without her husband to accompany her.”

“What’s to say he isn’t here? Or that I’m not waiting for him to come?”

“If you are waiting for him, he’s an asshole for making you wait forty minutes.”

The stranger had caught her there, but she made sure that her face was set so that he couldn’t see that he had shocked her.

“Oh, so you have been stalking me now, sir?”

“No, I wouldn’t say stalking,” He laughed, running a hand through his bouncy curls, “More so that I can admire beauty when I see it.”

YN couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t enjoying the attention that she was receiving – because she very much was. This were the years that she was supposed to be in her prime, and the second that this handsome stranger took one look at her she should have had him in the palm of her hand. That wasn’t the case, as she always had Marshall lingering in the back of her mind.

Even though she knew that Marshall had been unfaithful to her (He was a director in Hollywood, for Christ’s sake) she didn’t know whether she could stoop to that level. There was also the slight issue of what Marshall would do to her, and the other person that was involved. There were so many moving parts to a marriage that was a business action, YN had quickly noticed.

“Anyway, who is this husband of yours? The one who doesn’t even come out for a drink with his wife?”

YN scoffed, slightly taken aback by audacity of this man to ask such a question when he hadn’t even told her his name, “Why would you like to know?”

“Maybe I know him,” He shrugs, “Know a lot of people around her, and I also wouldn’t be opposed to telling him how he’s supposed to treat a beauty like yourself.”

YN couldn’t believe what she is hearing, “Sir, what makes you think I’m just going to tell you my husband’s name and I don’t even know yours.”

“Harry Styles,” He holds his hand out for her, which she accepts with her ring clad hand.

“YN Miller.”

“Miller, that’s right,” He laughs, “I knew I recognised you. I do know who your husband is, Marshall Miller.”

Well, shit. That didn’t exactly go the way she planned, but at the end of the day everyone knew about her and Marshall. From the first time that they had been spotted outside the studio together, to the day that they made their red-carpet debut as a couple – everyone was reading about them.

There were times that it annoyed YN more than she could explain that every time she read an article about herself, the mentions of her acting came second every time to her marriage to Marshall. The marriage gave her the roles she wanted, but not the attention. The role in the new movie would give her the right attention, but if she followed through with the nudity she would be finished as an actress – that’s for sure.

“Of course, you do,” She smiles, “Thank you for the drink, Mr. Styles, but I think I may be off now.”

She grabs her purse and stand ups. As she turns to walk away, she feels a hand grab her wrist. It wasn’t harsh, but just a soft grip to keep her still.

“Look, I may know who your husband is, but my point still stands,” He offers her a smile, “And if you feel like this in the future, my band’s playing at Ciro next week and I’d love to see you there.”

When YN walked into the house she lived in with Marshall, it was eerily silent. YN knew that he was here, because her car was on the driveway, it was just finding him that would be the main issue. YN knew that she wasn’t up for a fight, and that was why she decided to just kick off her heels and make her way upstairs.

Growing up in a small town, in a flat in New York that was as big as the bathrooms in this house meant that there was a lot for YN to get used to. The fact that sometimes she wasn’t even allowed to make her own food, or just clean if she wanted to really got to her. There were small domestic things that she grew up with that she missed, but it meant that she appreciated the people who did even more and treat them much better than Marshall ever did.

As she made her way upstairs, she beelined through the bedroom and into the closet where she knew that Marshall never went. So, imagine her surprise when he was sat there with his tie a mess and his shirt unbuttoned. To say that her husband was twenty years older than her, she couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t handsome. The problem wasn’t his looks, or even his personality on his good days – but the way he treated people, YN included.

“You’re late,” He muttered into his glass as he lifted it up to his lips, “Where have you been?”

YN didn’t stand and look at him any longer. She started unfastening her necklace and walked over to her dressing table. Unfortunately, the way that the mirror was angled she could still see him staring at her.

“Sorry, I went out,” She placed her jewellery neatly on the side, “I was with Rosie and Sally. You know what it’s like when we get together – the time just runs away with us.”

“Huh,” He scoffs into his glass.

YN felt as though she had been caught, “What?”

“It’s just funny, that’s all,” He leant forward, placing his elbows on his knees, “Because just after you stormed out of my office, I went to find Rosie and Sally to ask where you were, and they hadn’t seen you.”

“I went to the bathroom first, if you really want to know,” She sighed, turning so that she was looking at him, “I went to the bathroom, for a while because I couldn’t believe that my husband was such an asshole and needed to get myself together before I went to find them.”

YN couldn’t believe sometimes that she was such a good bloody actress, on screen and in her daily life. It wasn’t like she couldn’t tell Marshall that she had gone to a bar on her own, but the lingering thought of Harry in the back of her mind and knowing that she didn’t know how well she would have been able to cover that up meant that she had to think on her feet.

Deciding enough was enough, she stood up and started to remove her clothes as she walked into the bathroom ready to take her makeup off.

“Don’t you walk away from me, YN!”

“It wasn’t like you were saying anything, Marshall!”

As she made it into the bathroom, she leant forward on the counter with her hands and sighed. She knew that he wouldn’t be too far behind her, so when he walked in and grabbed her shoulders, tightly and turning her so that she was facing him – she wasn’t that shocked. However, the feeling of his nails pressing into her skin did have her wincing a little bit.

“We didn’t finish our conversation,” He says, and she can smell the alcohol so strong on his breath.

“It sounded like we had, Marshall,” She responded, trying to ignore the feeling of her on his skin.

“I’m not talking about that bullshit in there,” He spits, “I’m talking about the conversation in my office earlier.”

YN prided herself on the fact that not much in this life scared her, but Marshall was the one thing that scared her continuously.

“I told you, Marshall,” Her voice came out a little meeker now, “I’m not doing it.”

“It’s not up for discussion, YN,” He lets out a deep breath, “Think of all the money we’ll get. People want to see you, I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“I’m not doing it Marshall,” She shakes him off her and he stumbles back. He runs a hand over his face and starts to walk in a circle, “I told you; I’m not parading myself just because it’ll get your rocks off seeing me naked on the big screen. I don’t care about the money.”

He stalked closer to her, so that they were almost nose to nose and lifted his hand up and placed his thumb and pointer finger together, “You’re this close, YN. This. Close.”

He was pushing her further and further towards the counter, so that her back was painfully pressed against it, and she couldn’t breathe properly. She knew that there was only one way that was going to be fixed if she didn’t think on her feet.

“Look, Marshall, I’m not going to get fully nude – I won’t,” He let out such a deep breath that his nostrils flared, and she was bracing for impact, she even lifted up her hands, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t do anything.”

He dropped his hands away from her and took a step back, “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you do what the French are doing, eh?” She shrugged her shoulders, watching as he started to pace, “Why don’t you tease it?” He wasn’t saying anything, so she continued, trying to regulate her breathing as she did so, “The scene, yeah? She’s taking her robe off for him in their bedroom, how about the camera isn’t on her front, but it cuts to her back. And it stops, so it’s teasing her without fully showing everything. It can just be the top of my arse, Marshall.”

When he continues to not say anything, she moves towards him slightly so that he’s stood in front of her.

“Think about Marshall, when everybody knows that may get to see me nude, but they’re teased with it,” She places a light hand on his back, and he turns to look at her, “The money will be even better than if we did show my whole body, because people will be wanting more.”

He nods his head and looks at her with a beaming smile on his face. She squealed slightly as he placed a hand under her thighs and lifted her up, so she was sat on the counter.

“Knew there was a reason I married you,” He smiled, leaning to place a kiss to her neck, “Not just a pretty face, are you?”

Even though she should have been enjoying herself in the company of her husband at this point, the fear that she had felt earlier was still there and for some reason, all she could think about was the curly haired man that she had met earlier.

YN had really debated going to Ciro the following week. There were pros and cons to going, but all she could think of was the shit that her husband had put her through during the week and how she could feel like a young woman if she went and saw the man, she had met the prior week.

It didn’t take long for that decision to be made for her when she had been speaking to Rosie and Sally earlier and it had somehow been brought up in conversation that she had received an invitation by Harry Styles himself to watch him in Ciro and the two of them had almost burst in excitement at that revelation.

That’s what lead YN to be stood outside the queue of Ciro, Sally and Rosie in tow as she finally made it towards the front. The was a man stood outside the door with a clipboard, and the largest man that YN had ever seen in her life.

“Name?”

YN had no idea that she was supposed have her name on a list, and she knew it was probably very unlikely that her name was on the list.

“Uh, YN Miller.”

“Oh,” The man with the clipboard seemed shocked when he looked up to see her stood there, “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Miller. Mr. Styles has reserved a table for you. I’ll show you there now.”

Even though YN was a little shocked and surprised, with one fleeting glance and Sally and Rosie she nodded and followed the man into the club. This wasn’t her first time in Ciro’s, but it was the first time she had been, and it was so packed. YN was convinced that they had even put extra tables in.

“This is for you, Mrs. Miller. The best seats in the house,” He smiled and pulled her chair out for her.

“Thank you,” She smiled politely.

“Please let us know if we can get you anything,” He smiled, “Mr. Styles has left a bottle of champagne for you and your guests.”

“Thank you.”

When the man walked away, and a waiter came over to open the champagne she couldn’t believe what was happening around her. Rosie and Sally looked as though they were going to burst (for the second time that day). Once the glasses were poured and the waiter had moved away, YN turned to her friends with wide eyes.

“I had no idea that this was going to happen,” She laughed, picking up the glass in front of her, “But I’m not complaining.”

“How did you even meet this man?” Rosie asks, picking up her own glass.

“I told you!” YN laughs, “I met him at Bruno’s. I was sat on my own and he joined, that’s it.”

“You must have made a lasting impression to receive a reserved table, and a bottle of champagne, YN.”

YN laughed, “I honestly didn’t. I forgot that it had happened until you mentioned him earlier.”

That was a lie, and a big one at that. YN had spent the last week toying with herself. Every time Marshall was nice, she felt guilty for even considering it, but the second he went back to his own ways she wanted to go even more. Today they had filmed the scene that had caused all those arguments and if that hadn’t made her completely sure that she was going, then the conversation with Sally and Rosie earlier surely did.

What YN hadn’t realised from their conversation was that Harry was just as famous as she was in Hollywood, and probably the world. YN even knew some of his songs (Sally and Rosie were big fans), but she had never seen his face or known his name so she couldn’t correlate the two together.

“I think you forget that we know you, YN,” Sally adds, “And we can tell that something has been on your mind.”

“It was nice, okay?” YN shrugs, “That was it. Nice to feel like I wasn’t a twenty-two-year-old married woman for once, and that someone was interested in me. Now shut up so we can watch the show and enjoy.”

YN knew that Harry was talented just by the few songs that she had heard, but nothing could have prepared her for hearing him live. The way that Harry commanded the stage, and how everyone in the room was just mesmerised by him when he opened his mouth was something that nobody could prepare her for.

YN didn’t know how long that he was singing for, but she didn’t look anywhere but him. It was about halfway through when he noticed her, and even had to do a double take just to make sure that she was actually there. It made her laugh, and he couldn’t hide her smile. He didn’t stop though; it was as though he was born to be on that stage, and everybody was eating it up.

Just before the end of his set, he called one of the waiters over to the bottom of the stage and whispered something in his ear. YN couldn’t help but be intrigued at what he had said, but the ending of his and the standing ovation ended that quickly.

“Thank you everyone, and thank you Crio for being lovely hosts,” He smiles, pushing his hair back of his face, “I’m Harry Styles, and we’ll be here for the next few nights if you’re interested in coming again. Thank you!”

As he and his band left the stage, YN couldn’t help the beaming smile that was on her face. All of the worries that she had in the world didn’t matter at this point, because she had one of the best nights of her life.

“Sorry, Mrs. Miller,” YN nodded and leaned closer to the waiter so that she could hear him over the chatter in the room, “Mr. Styles has invited you and your party backstage.”

“Oh,” YN looked at Rosie and Sally to see their opinion on the matter, and their beaming smiles suggested that it was maybe a good idea, “Thank you, yes.”

The girls picked up their purses and followed the waiter through a side door, and down a long corridor until they were stood in front of a door that said ‘H.Styles’ on it. He knocked twice before opening the door, revealing Harry and his band sat on the sofas with drinks in their hands.

“Mr. Styles, your guests.”

As Harry realised that it was YN walking in, he immediately stood up and made his way over to her.

“Mrs. Miller, a pleasure,” He placed a kiss to her hand, which had her biting her lip. He then turned to the waiter and thanked him before turning back to her, “Thank you for joining me, and I’d like to thank your guests for coming too.”

Once introductions had been made throughout the entire group, Rosie and Sally found them conversing with Harry’s guitarist, Mitch, and drummer, Sarah. YN was sat on a sofa with the man himself, a Manhattan in her hand that Harry had ordered without a blink of his eye. YN had almost known Marshall a year and he still couldn’t get her drink right. He had even remembered the extra cherries.

“So,” He smiled, sipping his own drink, “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I did,” She laughed, “Who know there was so much talent hiding behind all that hair?”

He laughed, and YN couldn’t help but joining in. There was an ease about talking to him, as though she didn’t have to worry about anything that she said because she knew that there wouldn’t be a single repercussion.

“But in all seriousness, Mr. Styles,” She smiled, “Thank you. It was an amazing show, and you were ever so generous to us.”

“No need for the Mr. Styles here, Mrs. Miller,” He shook his head, “Please just call me, Harry.”

“Only if you promise to call me, YN,” She smiled, “Mrs. Miller makes me sound so old.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “I don’t think I should comment on that.”

“No, I don’t think you should either.”

The conversation just flowed between them. They discussed their childhoods – when YN realised, she wanted to be an actress, and when Harry realised, he wanted to be singer. There was never a lull in the conversation, and she laughed in a way that she hadn’t for a while. Not only was this man handsome and talented, but he was funny as well? It was as though YN couldn’t catch a break.

“I’m going to go out for a smoke,” He placed his drink down and stood up, “Would you like to join me?”

YN didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She stood up and followed the man outside, watching as he lit his cigarette and blew it out in such a way that she was almost having to cross her legs. YN wanted to feel guilty, she really did – but she just couldn’t.

“Should you really be doing that?” She asked, accepting the cigarette from him, “Doesn’t it ruin your voice?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” He shrugged, and YN couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach as she wrapped her lips around the cigarette where his own had just been, “But, as they say, it’s easier to start them then stop them.”

YN laughed and passed it back to Harry. She leant against the wall, moving a rock around lightly with her shoe. There was one question that she had wanted to ask Harry since getting her, but she just hadn’t had the nerve to until now, since he was alone with just her.

“Harry?” She asked, looking up at him as he hummed and nodded in her direction, “Why did you invite me here?”

“What do you mean?” He shrugged, moving closer to YN so that he was stood leant on the wall near where she was stood.

“Well, you could’ve invited anyone to come and watch you. It isn’t as though your limited on options,” YN shrugged, “It isn’t as though there’s a romantic element between us, seeing as though I’m married.”

“There isn’t?”

“Excuse me?” YN couldn’t help the furrow in her eyebrows at his words. She truly had no idea what he was getting at by saying what he did.

“I’m just a little confused by you saying that there isn’t a romantic element between us,” He shrugs, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stubbing it with his shoe, “I’m just a little confused, married or not, why you would come if you didn’t feel anything.”

“There is such thing as a man and woman being friends, Harry.”

“Is that all this is, YN?” He asks, and YN has to ignore the flips in her stomach as he walks towards her, stopping just inches away from her, “Friends?”

“Harry –”

“If friends are all you see this as, then friends are all we’ll be,” He says, not taking his eyes away from hers, “But I can’t lie and say that I don’t really want to kiss you right now.”

Even though YN should be thinking of Marshall right now, her husband, all she can think about is how it would feel to kiss Harry. More specifically, right at this very second. There had never been any attraction (on her part, anyway) between herself and Marshall, but that wasn’t the case between herself and Harry. In all honesty, she doesn’t think she’s ever been attracted to anyone like she is with Harry. It made it so much easier that there wasn’t just an attraction, but an ease when they talked as well – as though she could say anything to him.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, YN, I promise.”

“You still didn’t answer my question, Harry,” She noted, “Why me? Out of everyone you’re seeking out the one thing that you can’t really have.”

“It may be wrong, but I know what I feel YN, and I think you feel the same way.”

Even though YN hesitated before saying the next words, he was right. YN did feel the same way, and even though it was wrong she couldn’t help it. She felt guilty, but maybe if Marshall was nicer to her, she may not have been able to go through with it.

YN nodded her head lightly, whispering, “I do feel the same way.”

Those words were all it took for Harry to lean forward and place his lips on hers. The feeling of Harry kissing her, and his hands on her skin were unlike anything she’d ever felt before in her life. YN couldn’t remember the last time she kissed someone that wasn’t on-screen or her husband, and it felt nice to kiss someone that she wanted to. His hands on her cheek, and she gripped his shirt to pull him closer to her.

YN was the first to pull away, mainly because she was running out of breath, but she couldn’t help the smile that etched across her lips. Harry had one on his too, a boyish smile that she just wanted to kiss off his lips.

She let out a sigh and dropped her head back against the brick of the wall behind her, “Shit.”

The next time YN saw Harry was a week later. Marshall was out at meal with some of his friends, and she had claimed that she wasn’t up for socialising and was just going to go home to bed. What Marshall didn’t know was that she was going over to Harry’s apartment that he rented whilst he was in town.

For about a week after she and Harry kissed against the wall around the back of Ciro’s she had felt ever so guilty. It was only until around halfway through the week that YN walked into his office and his secretary was just leaving and he not only had his tie askew, but he also had lipstick around his face and the entire room smelt of sex. YN decided that the best thing she could do was to ignore it, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t noticed it.

It meant that she was more excited to see Harry and have an intellectual conversation with him and just enjoy herself. It was nice to feel wanting, and that’s what Harry made her feel.

That’s why she was enjoying herself more than she was going to admit, sitting at his dining table as she watched him flounce around the kitchen making sure that everything was made for their dinner to perfection. It wouldn’t have been the best decision for them to go out, seeing as though anyone could have spotted them so Harry had offered to cook, and YN wasn’t going to say no.

“Just you wait,” He smiled at her as he drained out the water from the pasta, “This is going to blow your mind – the best pasta you’ve ever had.”

“Is that so?” She grinned, “Well, we’ll just have to see. I’ve had my fair share of amazing meals if I do say so myself.”

“Nothing like this, darling,” He grinned, shaking the pasta out, “I promise.”

There was something about watching him in the kitchen that YN could get used to. The little apron he had one, and the slightly flustered state that he was in. She was smiling throughout the entire time he was in the kitchen, and also afterwards when they were eating.

In all honesty, it was one of the best meals that YN had every had. He had made pasta in a tomato sauce with chicken and peppers, and she was enjoying every mouthful. She would never tell Harry that was the case, but by the way she finished her entire plate he maybe had a slight suspicion that was the case.

Throughout the entire meal, the tension that was brewing between the two of them was becoming slightly unbearable. It also didn’t help that she had a glass of red wine (which she doesn’t normally drink) and her cheeks were burning throughout the entire thing.

YN had offered to clean up the plates, but Harry shook his head and took them from her. She thought she was going to have to sit and watch him clean up the plates, but he just placed them in the sink and made his way over to her. It didn’t take long for him to be stood right in front of her and lean down to peck her on the lips.

YN lifted her hands up to wrap around his neck and that was all he needed to place his hands under her thighs and scoop her up, ignoring everything around them as he placed her upon his dining room table. As they pulled away, YN couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. He raised one of his eyebrows at her.

“You laughing at me?” Harry speaks, leaning down to pressed kisses along her exposed neck, “Sure you want to be doing that?”

“I don’t know,” She shrugs, “What are you going to do if I do?”

He tugged her closer to him by her ankles, so that her legs were spread around his waist, “Just you wait and see.”

YN lifts her bum up slightly so that he can pull her trousers and panties down in one swoop. It felt strange to YN to be this bare in front of someone who wasn’t her husband, but the way that Harry was looking at her stopped all of the worries within her head.

Harry knelt down on the floor, so he was exactly face height with her. He placed kisses along her thighs as he made his way towards the part of her that she really needed him at. YN’s chest was rising and falling so quickly that she felt as though she may combust at any moment, but she knew that she had to keep it together. Once he had made it to that delicious spot between her legs, he couldn’t help but lean forward and place a kiss right on her wetness. Even the slightest of touch had YN withering – she honestly couldn’t believe how sensitive she was.

“Please, Harry,” Her back was beginning to arch off the table at how he was teasing her, “Please.”

“Please, what?” He asked, looking up at her with a grin on his face, “What do you want, love?”

“I want you to touch me, please.”

“Your wish is my command,” Without even a single hesitation, Harry leant forward and crashed his mouth right into her.

The feeling of his tongue against her, and his legs pushing her thighs apart, so she was completely exposed to him had her head dropping back in ecstasy. YN felt as though she was flooded down there, and he seemed to lap ever drop up with no complaints. It wasn’t until he started to swirl his tongue around her clit that she truly felt shock-waves throughout her body.

YN physically couldn’t arch her back off the table any further, and her head drops back with quite a heavy thump but all she could think about was the feeling of him along her sensitive nerve. He continues to flick her clit over and over, making sure that no matter how much she wanted to close her legs that she couldn’t. Not knowing what to grab, she reached forward and thread her fingers through his hair. Her mouth parted, and her breathing started to become more and more heavy, and her heart was beating faster than it ever had before.

YN had never felt anything like this before in her life. Obviously, her and Marshall have had sex in the past, but it was all about him and never about her. YN had never had somebody lick her there before, and in all honestly, she could get used to it more often.

“Oh, God, Harry!” He continued to attack her clit, and as he quickened the pace of his tongue, she knew that she wasn’t going to last much longer. YN had never felt so turned on in her life, and this wonderful man in between her legs was who she had to thank for that.

Harry is indicated that YN is close by the way her thighs started to tremble, and he tried his hardest to keep them still with pressure on them. Knowing that she’s so close, he works harder to make sure that she gets there. He switches between licking to sucking to then even flicking her clit quickly with his tongue. YN is fully pushed over the edge when he sneakily pushes one of his fingers into her, not stopping his attack of her clit.

“Harry!”

The sound of his name tumbling from her mouth only spurs him on further. YN’s orgasm ripples through her body, and her back arches so far off the table until she’s fully sat up. Even though she would want nothing more than to be looking at Harry, she physically can’t, and her eyes are firmly clamped shut. YN was gripping his hair so tight that it must have been painful for him, but she was so out of it that she had no idea.

YN’s body jerks as he pulls his mouth off of her, and slowly removes his fingers. Almost automatically, her weak knees buckle, and she’s propelled forward into his chest. He happily catches her and moves some of her damp hair off her face. When she finally opens her eyes, he’s beaming down at her with a smile on his face.

“Hi,” She smiles, trying to push herself deeper into Harry’s chest if that was even possible.

“Hi, darling,” He laughs, placing a kiss to the top of her head, “That good?”

“So good,” She lifts her head up to look at him and accepts a kiss to her lips, “Never felt like that before, Harry.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

The very idea of going home right now was the last thing on YN’s mind. In fact, she would rather do anything else that have to go back to Marshall in all of his glory. There was no chance that YN would ever be as comfortable with Marshall as she is with Harry.

The conversation just flowed so easily between them, and YN felt happy. It was such a shame that she couldn’t just stay and that she did have to go home. That didn’t stop Harry from giving her the hardest kiss she’d ever received before she left, so hard that she could feel her lips tingling from it when she stepped through the front door of her house.

A few weeks later when YN was called into Marshall’s office she couldn’t lie and say that there wasn’t a spring in her step.

The night after her first time at Harry’s, YN had been giggling at the memory at the most random times throughout the day. YN had been fast asleep in bed when Marshall had come home, and he had left when she woke up meaning that she hadn’t had to see him. His side of the bed had been obviously slept on last night, meaning that he had at least come home but she had no idea in what state.

Due to the fact that she had been teased by Harry at the experience of being with him, she wanted to be with him at any chance she got. That meant that whenever YN got any chance to sneak away from her real life and go see Harry, she did. YN was enjoying being with Harry so much, that it started to become so difficult to go home to Marshall who she knew would never make her feel the way that Harry did.

YN had no idea why she was being called into Marshall’s office, but when she saw the set look on his face the smile immediately dropped off her face.

“Take a seat, YN,” This certainly didn’t feel as though this was a husband talking to his wife.

“Everything okay?”

The second she sat down; Marshall slapped a newspaper down in front of her. YN reached forward to grab it and her heart immediately dropped to the put of her stomach at the headline across the main page of the newspaper.

Hollywood’s married sweetheart seen leaving rock-star Harry Styles’ apartment multiple times over the last few weeks.

They had been caught. YN couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t even as though they had been caught by Marshall, they had been caught by the media. YN didn’t know at this point if she would have rather been caught by Marshall and not have the whole world find out about it before she was ready for anyone else to.

YN was terrified to look up at Marshall. She didn’t know what to expect when she looked up at him from behind the paper. The second she did feel the confidence to place it down, YN felt as though anything could happen with the look on Marshall’s face.

“Is it true?”

“Marshall I –”

“Is it true?” The next time he asks he shouts at her, and the loud bang of his fist on his table had her jumping in her seat.

There was no way that she could lie. If she did, he was going to see right through her, and she had no idea how he would react to it. So, she decided to just tell the truth, no matter how difficult it may be.

“Yes,” Her voice came out as a whisper, but the look on Marshall’s face saw that he had heard her. She was so thankful that there was a desk between them because she had no idea what would happen if that wasn’t the case.

“Do you know what this means for us, YN?” He spits at her, “Do you know?”

“I’m so sorry, Marshall,” The tears were starting to collect in her eyes, “I really am.”

“You don’t get to be sorry, YN,” He dropped his hand on the table again, “You’re the one that’s been fucking everything you see.”

“It was one time, Marshall!” YN exclaimed and even though she was crying, there was an anger to her words as well, “Not like you. You’re the one who fucks everything you see, Marshall!”

“This isn’t about me, YN!” He stands up, both of his hands upon the desk, “This is about you, and what you’ve been doing.”

“So, you can fuck anybody that you want to for the entire time that we’ve been married, but the second that I find someone who cares about me and wants to be with me, I’m the worse one in this relationship?”

“You belong to me YN!” He exclaims, “Me! Not the fucking rockstar that you’ve been getting your rocks off with.”

“I belong to you?” She asks, unable to believe what she was hearing, “And do you not belong to me, Marshall?”

“We all known that isn’t the case, YN,” He shrugs, “I’m a director in Hollywood. I’m the best of the best. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Okay, Marshall,” That was all that it takes for YN to stand up, trying not to let him stop her from what she was about to do. Without any hesitation, YN pulls her wedding and engagement ring off of her hand and places it on the table in front of them. YN could see Marshall’s nostril’s flaring and she tried to ignore it but there was no way that she was going to get out of this unharmed, “We’re done.”

“That’s not your decision to make, YN.”

“It is, Marshall,” She shook her head at him, “I’m not putting up with this anymore, and you’re not going to stop me.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you have a contract with this studio.”

“For five films, Marshall,” YN spits, “And what film did we just finish – number five or did you forget?”

The look on his face that he knew she was right was all that YN needed to make her way towards the door. Just as she threw the door open, she was stopped right in her tracks by a glass breaking just by her head. Even though YN knew that the glass had cut her, and she could feel the sting over her body – she couldn’t stop now.

YN only hesitated for a second and she was out of that door and slamming it behind her.

“Get back here, YN!” Marshall shouted so loudly that the entire studio probably heard them, “We’re not done.”

They were, and YN knew that her life now had changed but she was ready for anything that it flew at her. She knew that even though she was now on her own, she wasn’t.

It didn’t take her long to fly home in her car, probably running every red light as she did. Hopefully she wouldn’t get pulled over by anyone but there was the possibility that she could be. The second she got to the house, she rushed up to her closet and grabbed everything that she could. Everything that could fit in her bag that she cared about, including her jewellery from her mother and all of her personal belongings.

The feeling of fleeing with her bag down the steps and out of her house reminded her of when she left home to come to Hollywood in the first place. It was almost a year ago that she moved, and here she was praying that the next year of her life wasn’t like this one.

It didn’t take her long to leave the house and make her way towards Harry’s house. The entire time she cried. It felt as though a part of her life was over, and not only that but she didn’t know how she was going to continue in her career. Her marriage and possibly her career was over in the space of one decision. She was going to have to work in the future, but all she needed now was to find Harry and make everything right.

The second she was outside Harry’s door, knocking on it and he saw her tattered and upset state, with a bag clutched in her hand he didn’t even hesitate before pulling her into his arms.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “I’ve got you.”

The second that Harry had seen her, tears streaming down her face and cuts on her arms and legs he was absolutely fuming. He immediately pulled her into his arms and carried her towards the bathroom where he placed her on the counter with such ease so he could start tending to her.

As he was cleaning up the cuts, he kept looking at her with a nervousness, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

There was a gap between his question and her response, but when he noticed that there were tears rolling down her face, he decided not to question her further until she was ready to answer all of his questions.

“I left him,” She muttered quietly after a while. Harry had anticipated it, but he didn’t want to pry.

“And he did this?” YN didn’t say anything, but the timid nod of her head gave him everything that he needed.

In all of the time that Harry had known YN, he had never known her so timid in all of his life. It was as though the events that had transpired had really knocked her, and she had no idea how to bring herself back from it.

“I’m going to kill him,” Harry shook his head, surprised by how angry he was at the news that she had just told him.

“No,” She shook her head and clawed at his shirt until he was facing her again, “I just need you with me, please don’t leave me.”

“I’m never going to leave you,” He leant down and placed a kiss to her forehead, “I never will.”

Regaining the popularity that YN had before when she worked at Marshall’s wasn’t as difficult as she thought it may have been. It had turned out that even though she was now divorced and had left the studio that the majority of the people in Hollywood saw as failure in this town, she found a studio just around the corner that was happy to take her.

The difference that YN found was that there was that due to the relationships being completely professional, they actually listened to what she had to say. She even had a clause in her contract that stated no nudity, and it was the best thing that YN had ever seen in black and white in front of her.

Every premiere that she had been to before this was, she had been cast in Marshall’s shadow, but this one was all about her and she was going to make sure that it was known. The dress that she had chosen was a beautiful baby pink with a skirt laced with feathers that had so much movement all she wanted to do was twirl around it.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry had said to her when he had seen her come out of the bathroom, fully dressed, and looking like the most beautiful person on this earth, “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“How did you get so lucky with me? I think that it’s I got lucky with you.”

Ever since she divorced Marshall in the previous year, Harry had been by her side. He hadn’t actually left it. For the first few months they had lived in his apartment before deciding that it was time that they actually bought a house. There had been a few moments where Harry had to leave to go to another state for a show, but he always came back to her.

This premiere for her latest film was the first time that the two of them had been seen out in public together, as a proper couple. It was a little nerve-wracking for YN, and for Harry as this was the first red carpet that he had ever walked but he wanted to be there for her and support her.

This was the last time that they were going to be together for a while, as the next day he was going on tour. YN originally had planned to go with him, but she had been given the script for a new film and there was no way that she was missing out on it. It was going to be the film of the century she believed, that was if she had anything to do with it.

It was strange being with someone who had such a real love for watching her succeed. YN was so nervous when she went home after receiving the script but the second, she had showed him the script and explained to him how excited she was about it, he had grabbed her face and kissed all of the worry out of her.

“You ready?” He smiled at her, lifting her hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to her hand.

She laughed and smiled at his antics, “As I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” He leaned forward and placed a small kiss to her lips, wanting to not mess up her lipstick, “Let’s get this done then.”

He climbed out of the car first and YN could hear the screaming from the second that he opened the car. Even though this was a movie premiere, it was obvious that there were some of his fans in the crowd. Her door was the next to open and she stepped out, waving to the people as she did so. Everybody seemed so happy to see her, and she couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t slightly nervous about the entire thing. The nerves disappeared the second Harry came to stand next to her, and she placed her arm through his and they started to walk together. It just felt so right, and so natural to be doing this with Harry.

“YN!” A reporter called from across the carpet at her, and with Harry in tow she made her way over to him. YN recognised him (probably from a previous red carpet), “How are you tonight?”

“I’m well, thank you for asking,” She smiled, really trying to remember all of her media training that she had been given.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, and we’re all so excited to see the movie.”

“Thank you so much, I’m very excited for you all to see it. It’s amazing if I do say so myself.”

“It’s your movie, of course you can say that!” The reporter laughed with her, “But I do just have to mention, in the last year you really found yourself in the backend of the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, are you afraid that’s going to shine over the film?”

YN couldn’t believe how cutthroat the reporter was straight away, but she tried to ignore it to the best that she could and answered the question the best way she knew how.

“It has certainly been a difficult past year for me, but I’m so excited to be working and have this beautiful film for you all to see,” She smiled, basically ignoring everything that he said, “I’m happy, and I hope this film makes some other people happy. Thank you.”

“Thank you, YN.”

YN immediately grabbed Harry’s arm again, and they beelined for the entrance. It was the first time that she had ever spoken of the events of last year, and she was praying that she had done okay.

“How was that? Did I answer it? Should I have said anything else?”

The second that they were in the safety of the building, she really let go of all of the questions that were swirling around in her head. Harry laughed and leaned forward to place a kiss on her lips.

“You were amazing darling, don’t even worry about it.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think so, I was so nervous.”

“I know you were,” He laughed, wrapping his arm around her, “Now how about we get some popcorn and go see this fantastic film that you’re in?”

“That sounds perfect.”

And perfect it really was.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles

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tonyspank · 11 months

Text

HEART 3

Summary: And till the very end, it was always heart.

A/N: I HAD TO. also quinn is not really ghost face because i said so (i was too lazy to add her)

Warnings: death, stabbings, murder, rushed writing and.. yeah i think that’s it. Words: 4.5k

Part One Part Two

Tara Carpenter was a good girlfriend. And yes, you two were officially a couple. Everyone knew about it, including Kayla and Frankie.

But you didn’t care about them, you cared about Tara. And she definitely cared about you. Everyday she’d text or call you to see if you were okay if she couldn’t physically do it herself in person. She’d also come to every practice you had, forcing Chad third wheel on the way back home.

And she even invited you over to the ‘core four’ hangouts.

Everyone was fine with it, well everyone except for Mindy. It’s not that Mindy didn’t like you, she just didn’t trust you… enough.

Sam had even told Mindy to get over it, she liked you. That had to mean something, she trusted you with her sister, and she even trusted you herself. Anika liked you, Chad obviously liked you, Ethan liked you, Quinn liked you and she called you a sex magnet but not without earning a glare from your girlfriend.

Even though your girlfriend was great, absolutely magnificent. You didn't get to prepare yourself for what has been happening the past few days.

One of the core four hangouts, also including Anika, Ethan, Quinn, and even the cute boy from next door ended into something horrible. The news had announced that your film study teacher had been murdered, and shortly after that Sam and your girlfriend got attacked by Ghostface at a bodega.

You tried your best to comfort your girlfriend or be there in any way possible.

This is exactly how you found yourself leaning into Tara as Mindy ranted to your friend group about who the killers could be.

"Are you okay?" You mumble into Tara's head, placing a kiss on it. She nods, giving you a small smile before softly grasping your jaw, and placing a quick kiss on your lips. You pull away, returning a smile.

You look away from your girlfriend only to see her sister watching you two, she smiles at you and you return a tight-lipped one, turning back to Mindy.

"Okay! Nerds listen up!" Everyone's chattering stops, and they all look at Mindy.

"As terrifying as this all is, I'm actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time." She says, fixing her shirt.

Chad hums, looking down at his notebook with a pen in his hand.

"It's fine." Mindy takes in a deep breath, "Okay! The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel." Anika raises her hand, "Um. What's a requel?" You nod along, confused as well.

"You're beautiful sweetie. Let's hold questions to the end." Anika blinks in response, giving her girlfriend a tight-lipped smile.

Sam speaks up, "Stab one took place in Woodsboro. Stab two took place in college."

You see Chad write stuff down in his notebook, as Tara says something beside you. "So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?"

"That is one possibility." Mindy answers, "Hero's now in college, check! Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list." Mindy adds, staring at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking around as you point at yourself. "Why'd you look at me?"

Mindy ignores you, "And or body count! Check, check, check, and check!"

"I don't like this." Ethan voices, shaking his head you nod in agreement.

"But it just can't be about Stab Two." Tara furrows her eyebrows, "Why not?"

"It would make sense if this was just a sequel, but we're not in a sequel. Because nobody just makes sequels anymore!" Mindy looks at the group, who all have confused looks on their faces.

"We're in a franchise!" She lifts her arms with a smile on her face, "And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise." Anika sighs at her girlfriend.

"I had a feeling," Sam mutters.

"Rule one! Everything is bigger than last time."

You point at Chad's notebook, "Hey, might wanna write this down." He looks at you before hurrying to write in his notebook. "Right!"

"Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

Chad lifts his head from his notebook, lost. "Beheadings?" Mindy nods, "Beheadings."

"Rule two! Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. The franchise only survives by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities—," Ethan raises his eyebrows at Mindy's words.

"— You can bet the opposite will be true here."

"Can I guess the next rule?" You speak up, Mindy points at you, "No." You frown.

"Rule three, no one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually bought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It's not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. Oh, and that's not even the worst part!"

"Oh! This is the part where she tells us the worst part." Chad says not even looking up from his notes. "The worst part is! Franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP. Which means main characters are completely expendable now, too."

"Wait, does Tara count as a main character?" You question, with a frown on your lips.

"Y/N, I've let it go before but you've gotta stop interrupting me, dude!" You thin out your lips in embarrassment.

"Anyways! Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Elen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, I mean, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on! That means it's not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time... so yeah Y/N especially your girlfriend and Sam."

Tara and Sam eye each other as Ethan joins in, "Wait? Any of us?"

"Yeah."

"Am I in the friend group?"

"Yeah."

"Am I like, one of the targets?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Am I gonna die a virgin?" Confused looks fill everyone's faces, "Um..." You mumble looking at Tara who just stares ahead, pretending she didn't hear.

"That was a weird overshare... but it brings us to our current suspects. Ethan!" Mindy stands in front of Ethan, a large smile on her face. "The shy dorky guy, who no one expects because he's so shy and dorky!"

"Okay, wait! Why am I on the suspect list because I'm randomly Chad's roommate?"

"Roommate lotteries can be juked." Ethan rolls his eyes, "You could've fixed it to get next to us!"

Mindy then walks over to Quinn, "Quinn! The slutty roommate, a horror movie—," Mindy Gives a Chef's Kiss, "—classic."

"Sex-positive, but... thank you?"

"Mm-hmm. How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Quinn looks at Sam who nods at her, "I answered their ad online?"

"Okay! Say no more! You've already implicated yourself enough!" Tara immediately speaks up for her roommate. "It was an anonymous ad, Mindy. And you know we vetted her, plus her dad's a cop."

"And that makes it more likely that she's the killer. Because having a cop dad is a great cover! Do you not remember how these movies work Tara!" Tara looks away at Quinn who asks, "Is she always like this?"

Sam tilts her head side to side, "Anika." Anika blows Mindy a kiss, who reciprocates it straight away. "Never trust the love interests." Anika’s face falls blank at her girlfriend’s words.

"Which brings me to Y/N Y/L/N, the star female wide receiver of our college team. Never in a million years would someone suspect you because you're so popular, smart, awkwardly cute, and also randomly dating Tara."

"Are these my suspicions or are you flirting with me?" You joke, a small chuckle leaving your lips. "Mindy we didn't randomly start dating, Chad introduced us… kinda.” Tara defends you.

"It's easy to become friends with Chad, especially if you're on the football team!"

"Hey!" Chad adds in, slightly offended.

"Y/N, weren't you raised in Woodsboro? And didn't you talk about our old friend Amber Freeman before on social media? Or did you think no one here knew about that?"

You frown for the one-hundredth time today. "Mindy, Y/N never wrote those DM's and so what she's from Woodsboro? She has nothing to do with Ghostface." Tara insists, Mindy holds up her hands in surrender at the tone of Tara's voice.

Sam clears her throat, "Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects."

"But wait, wait! What about you guys?" Ethan says, motioning to Chad, Tara, Mindy, and Sam.

"I mean, I think it's pretty safe to rule out the four of us—" Mindy crossed her arms proceeding, "—who went through this last year in Woodsboro."

Chad smiles, pointing his pen at Mindy. "Agreed."

"Um, not agreed," Quinn adds. "What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?" Sam eyes her roommate, shocked.

"Yeah, or the fame you got from the killing made you thirsty for more?" You shake your head at their words.

"Let's be honest here, the theories online about Sam—" Ethan tried to imply, but you cut him off, immediately. "Don't fucking go there, Ethan."

He raises his eyebrows, surprised.

"Okay!" Anika joins in. "She's right though. I mean, face the facts. If we're all suspects, you're all suspects."

Everyone in the group begins eyeing each other, silently.

Well, until you speak up.

"Can we please get something to eat now?"

As you said before. You never prepared yourself for what's been happening. Long story short, Anika's dead, and so is Quinn.

And Ethan was not there when it happened.

Then Gale Weathers shows you, your friend group, and an FBI agent a Stab shrine. Was it cool, fuck yeah? Would it have been cooler under different circumstances, fuck yeah!

And then after that, you find out Sam and Tara stole a police car, only to arrive late to their destination so Gale Weathers is now dead.

Ethan was there, but you weren't.

You had extra practice drills. But you were there on the train, being in the same cart as Mindy and Ethan. It felt creepy, and it felt as if Ghostface was right there.

Mindy ended up getting attacked under your watch, well Ethan's as well. Ethan took care of Mindy while you tried your best to make it to Stab's shrine, but you were five minutes behind everyone else.

"When was the last time anyone even used this place?" Tara asks, trying to make small talk with Chad. "It's old."

Chad chuckles, reaching for the small box of candy in front of him, Tara does the same, their hands touching. "Sorry. You can have them."

He tried handing them to Tara, "You think I want these?" They turn, facing each other fully.

"They're like a hundred years old." Tara jokes. Chad laughs, looking down at his feet, and Tara cracks another joke. "Maybe that's your thing?"

It's weird. The tension, the way Chad's staring at her. She looks away, "I actually—"

Chad hastily connects their lips, and Tara kisses back. But she slightly pulls away realizing what she's done.

"I'm sorry— I can't. Um, what about Y/N?" Before Chad could apologize, Tara lets out a shriek feeling a sharp pain in her upper back.

Chad pushes Tara away, his heart dropping seeing the masked killer he's been running away from this entire time. The killer tries to slash Chad but he successfully ducks in time.

Ghostface tried again, but Chad blocks it, throwing them into a movie poster. Glass falls everywhere, and they're now wobbly on their feet. Again they try attacking Chad, only for him to dodge and attempt to throw a punch.

Ghost faces dodges it well, leaning back. Chad takes their moment of weakness to kick them in the stomach and they fall onto the ground, he kicks them again before rushing to Tara's side.

"Come on!" He helps the dark-haired girl up, running towards the exit, only for the door to fly open by Sam. Sam screams along with Tara, "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam informs the group, freaking out.

The trio runs into the middle of the shrine searching for an exit.

Tara points at the upper balcony, "Hey, what about that? There's an exit door! Maybe it leads to the roof or something?" She rushes out at the end.

"It's only one way to find out, let's go! Let's go!" They all walk towards the latter only to be met with a Ghostface jumping from the stage.

Ghost Face missed all three stabs at the group in front of them, dropping their knife. Pulling out another one, they slice whatever's in front of them, only to behead a mannequin.

"Beheading!" Chad shouts. Chad then tackles Ghostface before picking up a camera. "Smile for the camera motherfucker!" He hits the killer with the camera and then runs off with Tara and Sam.

Ghostface then chases the three in a narrow hallway, getting met with a camera to the face again.

Now back where Tara and Chad started, they try their best to fight off the person in the black cloak, Chad dodges all their attacks, while the Carpenter sisters grab their arms pushing them into the wooden counter behind them.

Tara groans hitting her own back as Chad punches Ghostface in the center of their mask.

They fall onto the ground and Tara takes this as a chance to kick them in the face, Chad picks up a gumball machine, holding it above his head, but before he could smash it onto the killer he's stabbed into his side by the second Ghostface.

He lets out a huge shout, and Tara screams ready to run and help, but Sam holds her back. "Nooo! Chad!"

Chad's now on one knee, surrounded by the two killers. They bring him onto both of his knees, facing the siblings, they show no mercy, stabbing him anywhere and everywhere.

Tara lets out another scream, watching Chad bleed out from his mouth until he finally drops out.

The two killers face the girls, wiping off their knives in sync. Sam then opens the door, pushing Tara through. Again, they're in the middle of the shrine. One Ghostface appears through the curtains of the stage, and another appears in their path as they try to escape, motioning "No" with their knife as they shake their head.

Sam picks up two bricks, giving one to her younger sister. "Sam!"

The killers come closer, "Ready." Tara let out small cries, unable to form a word as she had no time to process the death of her friend.

"I need you to be ready. Ready?"

Tara swallows, "Look at me." Sam instructs, she immediately listens looking at her sister. "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!" Tara shouts at the Ghostface in front of her. Before anyone could attack, gunshots are fired. The two Ghostfaces duck down along with the sisters.

"It's okay!" Kirby says, with her gun out. "Stay the fuck back!" Sam yells at the blonde woman, "We know it's you, Kirby." Confusion fills her face, "One— One of them knocked me out."

"Kirby stop! Get away from the girls!" Officer Bailey says, pointing his gone at Kirby.

"What are you doing?" She questions, raising her gun at the man. "Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill my daughter?"

"Jesus Christ! Whatever he's been saying to you don't believe him. He's probably the killer."

Ghostface appears behind Officer Bailey, and Kirby's eyes widen in fear. "Behind you!" Gunshots go off, and Kirby's body drops.

Sam and Tara's mouth drops in shock. And the Ghostface pauses their stabbing motions. Wayne thins out his lips, putting away his gun.

"Good job." All Tara and Sam can do is stare ahead in shock, not believing the sight in front of them. "Both of you."

"You?" Tara mumbles. He shrugs, "Yeah, of course, me. Frankly, I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us."

"What do you mean us?"

The Ghostface on the left of Wayne begins to take off their mask. Revealing none other than the shy dorky boy, Ethan.

"Ta-da!" Wayne chuckles, and Ethan smiles. "Mindy was right! It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. I mean all I had to do to meet you was room with the conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad!"

"Fuck it felt good to kill him!" Ethan yells out, the smile still on his lips. He raises the mask in his hand, "This was your grandmothers Sam. Nancy Loomis? Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family."

"Wait for it!" Wayne buds in, "My names not even Ethan Landry!" Wayne laughs, "Is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara furrows her eyebrows, confused. Wayne continues laughing with his son.

"Wait. If it's you two, that just leaves..." The Ghostface turns its head to Sam, and she believes the worst. "Mindy?"

Ethan looks over to his right, and they pull off their mask. Revealing Tara's girlfriend, you. "Hey, Sam."

You smile at the older Carpenter, "Wow! I really made an impression on you, huh? You thought it was your own friend over me!"

"Y/N..." Tara says, her voice barely over a whisper. "Hey, love." She can't help but let out a cry, eyes watering.

You fake a frown, "Baby."

"Why!" She shouts, letting her emotions take over. "I loved you!"

"And I love it when you cry! You look so pretty." She glares at you through her blurred vision due to the tears in her eyes. "How could you."

"How could I not? It was so easy becoming that fuck heads friend, and it was even easier getting close to you. Literally, all I had to do was fight a drunk frat boy to get you interested in me!"

"Why?" She repeats, and she doesn't know why. You weren't the girl she fell in love with.

"Quinn, still alive. But she didn't want to get her hands dirty so I did it for her. Gale? Me. The two fucking creeps who killed your film study teacher? Me! Chad, well, that was me and Ethan." You laugh, Ethan looks at you smiling.

Sam shakes her head, she couldn't believe she ever trusted you, not only in general but with her sister. She felt guilty and disappointed in herself.

"Oh, and I got Stu Macher's mask. He's pretty funny." You walk away with Ethan, parting in separate ways. Ethan puts Nancy Loomis's mask on the mannequin wearing her clothes, "Nice."

"Which leads," Wayne reaches inside his jacket. "Your fathers." He holds up Billy Loomis's mask, "This what we've been counting down to Sam."

Sam glances at the mask then back at Wayne, "We're gonna need you to put it on." Sam slaps the mask out of his hand, earning a cut to her arm by Ethan.

"Ooh," Ethan says, laughing. You laugh as well watching the scene unfold across the room.

"You stay the fuck away from her!" Sam holds her arm, looking around at the killers surrounding her. "What is this? Why are you doing this?"

"Ethan, they're still not getting it!" The two of you smile at the siblings in front of you. "They should know better."

"Look, I don't know what you believe but I didn't commit those murders in Woodsboro. It wasn't me."

Wayne rolls his eyes, walking closer to the two. "Oh! We know that. Of course, you didn't! What did you think that this was based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? Come on, who do you think started the rumors of you in the first place."

You raise your hand, "It was pretty simple. Especially how you fucking tased the shit out of me in the middle of a frat party."

"It's not enough to kill someone these days, you have to assassinate their character first." He begins, "Dad finds your horribly disfigured body, some poor sap says on the internet Sam took matters into her own deluded hands."

"Exactly! That's why it's the perfect alibi! Based on the truth." Bailey adds on, pointing at Sam. "You're a killer."

Sam aggressively shakes her head, shouting. "No! No, I'm not!" Ethan joins in, "Yes you are you killed my brother!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, unclear of what's going on.

"His brother died in Woodsboro, in the hands of you, Sam. Along with Amber."

Sam looks at you, then Ethan and finally Wayne. "You're Richie's family." Ethan stabs Sam's chest, "Ding! Ding! Ding! She's finally starting to get it!" Everyone breaks apart, and Tara pushes a mannequin out of their way.

"It was only when I saw those photos—" Tara takes a swing at you with a brick, you dodge it easily a jolly smile on your face. "—of what you did, I knew, I knew you had to be punished!" Ethan cuts off Sam’s path to escape, holding a knife to her face.

"Along with anyone else, that stands in our way." Sam looks at the knife with hooded eyes, then back at Ethan. He presses the knife against her throat, "There she is! There's the fucking killer."

"Real great parenting job by the way," Tara speaks up from in front of you, Ethan grabs her angrily. "Shut the fuck up!" He yells, pushing her. You furrow your eyebrows following behind him, why was he using so much strength to push her?

"Have I been the perfect father? No. Overindulged by these movies, it's a bit Too dark for me but Richie loved them, he loved them, he even made a few of his own."

Wayne turns around and Richie plays on the big screen. Walking up the steps to the stage, "Did you know? There's a very special bond between a father and his first son, that's why I helped him build his collection."

"This is was all his?"

"He was a very passionate collector, I built this as a tribute to him which is why this is where you die, you and anyone who had anything to do with the death of my son. Because everyone dies!"

"Yeah, your son. So pathetic," Wayne tilts his head, "What? That's not true."

"He was a man baby, who made his girlfriend do all his killing." You clench your jaw, angrily.

"He was a strong feral young man."

"He was a limp dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat." Ethan raises his knife, "Shut your fucking mouth!" He runs up to Sam only to be met with a brick to his face, then gunshots are fired and Wayne falls onto the ground. You look at Tara before looking back at Kirby, rushing over to her and stabbing her in her stomach.

She shrieks in pain, causing you to smile. Something hard knocks you upside your head, and you fall to the side with a groan.

Sam removes the knife you plunged into Kirby while you stand up, "Hey, Samie." Sam quickly raises her knife, attempting to stab you in your chest but you block it, grabbing her shoulder and pressing your thumb inside her wound. She yells out, trying her best to overpower you, leaning in she gets close enough and stabs you, swiftly pulling out the knife before repeating multiple times.

"Fuck!" You fall back.

"Sam!" Tara calls out, climbing up the ladder. Sam makes her way to her sister, climbing up as she tries her best to make it to the exit.

The structure under Tara breaks, and Sam immediately grabs Tara's arm. You and Wayne are now back up, laughing at the situation.

"I can't! I can't! I can't grab on!" Tara cries, trying her best to latch onto her sister's arm, but the blood leaking from her wounds is making it nearly impossible.

You jump up at Tara, swinging your knife at her feet. "I thought you loved me, Tara? How could you kiss Chad? I should fucking stab you again!"

"Fuck you!" She seethes, "Fuck you!" You reply. You continue taking swings at your girlfriend's feet, noticing that Ethan has made his way to the balcony.

"You guys are fucked now!" You laugh.

"Sam! Sam. Let me go." Tara lets go of her sister's arm, only being supported by Sam holding onto her. "Sam, let me see my girlfriend!" You shout at her.

"Trust me. You have to let me go." Sam looks at the knife in her belt pocket, taking it out and hanging it to Tara. Tara falls, and you take the chance to stab her in her stomach.

Her face squeezes in pain. You let go of the knife that’s plunged in her stomach knocking out the knife in her own hand, now grabbing both of her hands you pin them above her head. You straddle her, a huge smile on her face.

"Do you remember this position?" Tara tries her best to fight back, but you are obviously stronger than her. She begins to cry again, overwhelmed. You can't help but stare at her, feeling your heart drop. Why were you doing this, especially to her?

"I love you, Y/N. I didn't want to kiss Chad. I wanted you, and I still do. I love you, please—"

"Shut the fuck up!" You switch your hold on her hands to only your right hand, and your left hand shakily reaches for your knife.

Tara lets out small cries, pleading with you.

Your hand hovers over the knife, and you look back at the girl under you. Your eyes begin to water and you notice yourself crying, "I'm— I'm sorry Tara, I'm so sorry!" Due to the emotions you're experiencing, your strength fades away and Tara overpowers you grabbing the knife next to her shoulder, stabbing you in your chest.

She pushes you by the knife and you fall onto your back, taking out the knife, she repeatedly stabs you again.

You watch her, tears coming out of both of your eyes. Your mouth begins to fill with blood, and she stops. "Tar...Tara." You attempt to speak, blood flying, closing her eyes as it splats on her face, replacing the freckles that you loved so dearly.

"The... note." Tara drops the knife beside you, "The n..." You try and repeat, Tara brushes your hair out of your face, uncontrollably sobbing on top of you. Reaching under your cloak, she feels your pockets, reaching inside and indeed finding a note.

Her bloody and shaky hands unfold it, and it reminds her of the night she wrote her first note to you. You send a weak smile, slowly feeling yourself let go.

"hey love, i'm sorry. i know when you're reading this it probably doesn't feel like the rest of this note is true, but it is. as each day passed i would've never thought that with you, i'd feel safe enough to be vulnerable, to share my fears, and to tell you how much i love you.

my love for you grew stronger, deeper, and more profound than i could have ever imagined. i'm sorry again that it had to be this way.

thank you for giving me your time and love, i'll always love you tara.

from y/n—"

"Heart." She finishes with a mumble, her gaze leaving the letter and then landing on you. She breaks down again, rubbing her fingers over your slightly cold face.

"I love you too, Y/N."

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #scream 6 #scream #scream x reader

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amagicbeyond · 1 year

Text

Things that make me crazy about that Wesper deleted scene!!!

The way Jesper launches himself across the room- JUST like he did during the kiss scene in Wylan's workshop - the second he's realized how vulnerable he's made himself when Wylan doesn't immediately respond the way he's hoping he will... he's protecting himself emotionally by putting physical space between them 😭 😭😭

The way Wylan completely doesn't get it but tries so hard to understand when he sees Jesper do that (and Jesper's face journey from embarrassed to resigned bashfulness to just utter FONDNESS as he realizes that Wylan needs this spelled out for him!!)

Wylan clambering across the bed to get to Jesper once he works through his own shock at what Jesper is asking him (and the idea that he is wanted?? Enough to be offered this?? 😭) and Jesper also, like, climbing back onto the bed to get to Wylan and both of them being on their knees is just?? help??

Wylan realizing that Jesper is now freaking out and just kissing him is so book!Wesper first kiss coded and the way Jesper melts into it, the way you can see his shoulders relax is so !!!

Every interview I've seen where they've spoken about Wylan and Jesper finding home with each other... well it all makes sense now, doesn't it? From Jesper turning the coin to a key in ep 1 to Wylan practically living on the streets, this scene just rounds out their arcs for the season so well!

In conclusion I love them and I'm so glad we got to see this 🥰

edited to add: OMG I forgot the whole reason I started writing this post was to observe that Wylan did not break eye contact with Jesper ONCE from the moment he understood the meaning of the key, no turning of the head, no hiding his beautiful smile! He was completely open and vulnerable, in a way we hadn't quite seen yet... the way Jack played this scene was noticeably different and I think very much purposefully so.

ok I'm done now!!

#wesper #shadow and bone #six of crows #wylan x jesper #soc #sab #shadow and bone spoilers #just such good casting kit and jack are SO good at this #I'm barely being articulate I just have a lot of feelings about them ok 😭

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misc-obeyme · 11 months

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Hi there i have been reading your blog for an hour now and im obsessed. Your writing is amazing. May i please request gn! Mc who was just in a fight, and got badly injured, but doesn’t care. So they ask the demon/angel there yo cuddle?

Im so so so sorry of this doesn’t make sense im very tired xD

Preferred characters you can ignore this well the entire request too xD (lucifer, satan, belphie, dia, barb, and simeon)

Here is a cat to keep you company his name is mr. Whisp 🐈

Hello there!

Oh thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! (Also thank you for Mr. Whisp I love him.)

Okay, so I wrote these as little scenes instead of the usual bulleted list style, I hope that's okay! They did end up a little longer because of that, though. I did it that way because you requested specific characters and it's easier to write little scenes for fewer characters rather than all of them.

Thank you for the request!

GN!MC gets hurt in a fight, but doesn't care and just wants cuddles with Lucifer, Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon

Warnings: MC is hurt! Bruises, blood, general injuries, talk of fighting.

Lucifer

You were standing in front of Lucifer, summoned to his room after he inevitably heard from several of his brothers about the state you were in. You had shown up at the House of Lamentation covered in scrapes and bruises. They all noticed how you were walking with a slight limp and the dark circle that was forming up under one of your eyes.

You had considered blowing him off when you got the message on your D.D.D. that he wanted to see you immediately. You didn't really feel like listening to a lecture about getting into fights. And yet you knew that if you put it off, it'd only be worse later. And secretly you wanted to see him.

Lucifer was observing you with a dark expression, clearly looking over your various injuries.

You kept your arms folded, chin up, and said, "You wanted to see me?"

He didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure if this meant he was so angry he couldn't speak or if he was just trying to make you nervous.

"Explain," he said at last.

You sighed. "I got into a little fight, it was no big deal."

Lucifer quickly closed the distance between you. He took hold of your chin and tilted your face this way and that. "No big deal? MC, you have a black eye. I think perhaps you've also injured your ankle in some way. Do you really think it's okay to risk yourself like this?"

You frowned up at him. "I can handle myself. Just because I got hurt doesn't mean I didn't win the fight."

Lucifer shook his head in exasperation. "That is not the point. Surely the issue could have been resolved without you getting hurt."

You softened a little. "You don't have to worry about me so much, you know."

Lucifer let go of your chin, tracing the tips of his fingers down your cheek lightly. "How can I not when you come in here looking like this? I know you can take care of yourself, but it really is a problem if you-"

You cut him off, catching his hand and stepping in even closer. "Lecture me later. Right now, can't you just hold me?"

You saw his resolve break as his expression changed. He wrapped his arms around you gently, careful to avoid aggravating your injuries. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to hold back as his worry for you spilled over.

"We will treat your injuries shortly," he said into your hair. "And MC, you will not worry me like this again."

You smiled to yourself at this blatant admission of his concern for you. The warmth of his arms was more than enough to make you feel as though you were healing already. You later heard all about how he hunted down those who hurt you (though you could never figure out how he knew who they were). Those demons were never heard from again.

Satan

You sat down across the table from Satan at the library of RAD. There was nobody else around - it was late in the afternoon and all the other students had long since gone home. You knew Satan was there late, taking his time studying for an upcoming curses and hexes exam. You had agreed to meet him there at some point, since you needed to study for that exam as well.

Satan looked up as you sat down and instantly reached out across the table, grabbing your wrist.

"MC," he said, his voice low. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You knew he was reacting to the bruises on your face and the cut across your forehead that was currently still bleeding a little.

"I'm fine," you said, shrugging a little and pulling your wrist out of his grip. "I just had to take care of something on my way here. Now are we going to study some hexes or what?"

Satan stared at you with wide eyes for a moment. You watched as his face changed, his eyes going dark and his teeth clenching. You could see where this was going and sure enough, he was suddenly in demon form. He half stood out of his chair, leaning across the table and growling.

"Who was it?" he demanded. You could see the tip of his tail twitch just above the table, unexpectedly free rather than wrapped securely around his leg.

You weren't scared because you knew he was contemplating tearing some other demons limb from limb for doing this to you. His reaction was a little over the top, but nothing you weren't expecting. This was Satan, after all.

"I know you're upset," you said. "But it really isn't anything you need to worry about." You placed your hand over one of his, leaning forward yourself to meet him.

His death glare only cooled slightly. "You can't show up to a study session with injuries like that and expect me not to worry, MC."

"I can if I'm telling you that you don't need to worry," you said adamantly. "I need you to trust me. And honestly, it would help me a lot more if you would calm down and give me a hug than if you went off the rails right now."

He was struck by your words, and they caused him to sit back down. Slowly, his demon form left him and he was back in his RAD uniform. The anger still smoldered in his eyes, but it was in competition with how much he cared for you.

Satan closed his eyes, clearly fighting with himself to push down the wrath that continued to simmer in him. After a few moments and some deep breaths, he opened his eyes again. He came around the table, gently taking your hands and pulling you out of your chair.

His eyes roamed over the cut on your forehead, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You pressed yourself to him, letting your own arms return the embrace. The pain of injuries seemed to fade away entirely as you let him comfort you.

You pulled your head away just a little to look at him and as you did so, you saw a splotch of red against the grey fabric of his uniform. "I'm sorry," you said. "I got blood on your uniform."

Satan sighed and pulled you even closer to him, resting his head on your shoulder. "What am I going to do with you, MC? Promise me you'll be more careful. I hate to see you hurt like this."

"I promise I'll be more careful," you said. It was a promise you felt you could keep.

Belphegor

You moved as quietly as you could through the halls of the House of Lamentation, avoiding any of the brothers you came across. You were on your way to the planetarium to meet up with Belphie and you didn't want any of the others to see the state you were in. So you kept to the shadows, moving along the walls until you came to your destination.

You slipped into the room and smiled at Belphie as he looked up at you. He had been nearly dozing off, so he was still a little bleary.

"There you are," he said with a yawn. "You're late."

"I'm sorry," you said, hoping the room was dark enough that he hadn't noticed your cuts and bruises. You sat down next to him, making sure you stayed partly in shadow. "I lost track of the time."

"Hmm, fine, I'll forgive you this time," Belphie said, rubbing at his eyes.

You laughed softly. "Gee, thanks."

Belphie leaned against your shoulder sleepily. You winced. You didn't mean to, but your shoulder was still sore in that spot.

Belphie noticed instantly. He sat up straight and looked at you carefully, the sleepiness suddenly gone. "MC… is that… a black eye?"

You shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Belphie frowned. "It is. You're hurt." He tugged on your arm a little to move you more into the light. You knew he could now see how banged up you really were. "MC! What happened to you?"

"Don't worry about it," you said. "It's not a big deal."

Belphie scoffed. "You got into a fight, didn't you? At least tell me that you gave worse than you got."

"Of course I did," you said.

Belphie stood up. "Hang on," he said. "I'll be right back. Then you should tell me about it."

Belphie was gone for only a few minutes, coming back with a first aid kit in tow. He sat back down next to you and opened it, pulling out a disinfectant wipe. He started to wipe down the scrapes on your face. It stung only a little.

"So? What happened? Did some demons insult you or something?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said. "Well, they said some things that I couldn't just ignore and things escalated quickly. But I can promise you they're suffering worse injuries than I am."

Belphie smirked. "I'm not happy about you being hurt," he said seriously. "But I can't pretend I'm not proud of you, either. You should let us handle stuff like that for you, MC. I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't know if it's worth you getting hurt like this."

Belphie carefully put a bandage over the largest cut.

"It's really no big deal," you said. "Especially since I have you to take care of me."

Belphie frowned, a soft blush creeping across his face. He sighed and put his arms around you. "Just because I'll patch you up doesn't mean you should go around getting yourself hurt."

You leaned into his embrace, nuzzling into him while still being careful of your injuries. "I know. Thank you for taking care of me, Belphie."

Although Belphie stayed by your side that night, you later heard rumors about those particular demons being plagued by nightmares.

Diavolo

You ducked into an empty classroom, having finally gotten away from the scene of the fight. You were covered in scratches and bruises and your lip was bleeding. You had eventually escaped the pandemonium after landing a particularly well thrown punch and running while your opponent was dazed. Now you could take a moment to breathe and figure out what you needed to do for your injuries.

You turned around from the classroom door and froze in shock. Diavolo was standing there in the middle of the room, looking just as shocked as you felt. He stared at you for a long moment, taking in your disheveled appearance, and the blood still dripping down your chin.

"MC," he said and the darkness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. He came toward you. He put one hand on your arm and lifted the other to wipe the blood off of your bottom lip. He let his touch linger there. "Did a student do this to you?"

You considered telling him exactly which demons you had been dealing with. But then you thought about how you weren't entirely blameless. You engaged with them, after all, and there was no doubt that you'd left a few of them injured.

"Please don't worry about it," you said. "It wasn't like I couldn't handle it."

Diavolo sighed. "That isn't the point, I'm afraid," he said. "It's against RAD policy to fight on the grounds."

You smirked a little. "Are you going to give me detention?"

Diavolo laughed. The sound filled you with a feeling of warmth and contentment. It was his usual laugh and it let you know that everything would be okay. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. "But if there are students picking fights, I'll have to do something about it."

You put your hand on his where it still lingered by your bloody lip. "You can do something about it later, can't you? I could really use a hug right now."

Diavolo put his hand gently on your cheek then wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close to him. After a moment he put his other arm around you, too, keeping you safe and warm in his embrace.

"I am so sorry this happened to you, MC," he said into your hair. "Please come back to the castle with me so I can be sure your injuries are properly cared for."

You pressed your cheek against his chest. "Are you really that worried about me? I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt you," he said. "But I would feel much better knowing you are being taken care of. Won't you indulge me?"

It wasn't like you could really refuse him. Especially not when you looked into his gold eyes and saw the deep concern there. So you would allow him to take you back to the castle, where you would stay for the rest of the night. You later heard about the rules regarding fighting at RAD becoming more strict.

Barbatos

You pressed your fingertips into your cheek in an attempt to stop the bleeding from a small cut you had gotten there. You felt that it was the most prominent wound, since it was right on your face, and while you couldn't exactly cover up all your bruises, you hoped you could at least stop the bleeding.

You were waiting for Barbatos in the gardens of the Demon Lord's Castle where you were meeting him for tea.

You weren't delusional. You knew you couldn't hide what had happened from Barbatos. But you still thought it would be better if you weren't actively bleeding.

When Barbatos finally arrived, he was carrying a tray of tea and pastries in his hands. The moment he saw you, he nearly dropped the tray, catching himself just in time. Still it tipped enough for a teacup to go flying off the edge, falling to the ground and smashing into tiny pieces.

You gasped and stood up, an unexpected reaction to the shattered teacup. "Oh don't worry, I can fix that," you said.

You couldn't look at Barbatos as you cast the spell to repair the cup. The pieces lifted into the air and fused back together. The cup landed in your palm, whole again. You straightened up and brought the cup over to where Barbatos was still standing, setting it on the tray before meeting his eyes.

There was an unmistakable aura of distress around him, even though his expression remained neutral. He carefully placed the tray on the table you had previously been sitting at.

"Thank you, MC," he said. "I'm afraid I lost my composure for a moment. I apologize for my clumsiness."

You had to hold in a laugh. Of course he would apologize to you for that. "Don't worry about it," you said.

You were about to sit back down at the table when he caught your arm. "I must inquire about your current state, MC."

You shrugged. "It's nothing important," you said. "Just a little altercation I was in on the way here. But I'm fine."

"I must disagree," Barbatos said. To your complete shock, he touched your cheek, leaving a smudged red stain on his spotless white gloves.

"Barbatos!" you cried, taking his hand. "You're getting my blood all over your gloves!"

It wasn't like Barbatos to allow his gloves to get dirty.

"A small matter compared to the fact that you are currently bleeding, MC," Barbatos said calmly. "You must allow me to tend to these wounds."

You sighed, squeezing his hand in both of yours. "All right. But first won't you…" You blushed, a little embarrassed to ask him to hold you.

But Barbatos knew what you wanted to say. He pulled you down into his lap as he sat down in one of the chairs by the table. You rested your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing your neck. Much later, he would bandage you up and give you some healing tea. But in that moment, his touch was like the magic you had used on the teacup - making you feel whole again.

Simeon

You fidgeted outside the door to Purgatory Hall. You had come here to spend some time with Simeon, studying while he worked on his latest novel. It was something you had gotten into the habit of doing recently. You were currently concerned about running into Luke and scaring him with the sight of your injuries.

You decided to send Simeon a message on your D.D.D. letting him know you were outside.

He sent you back a question mark sticker, clearly confused about why you didn't just knock on the door.

You waited for a moment instead of responding and the door opened to reveal Simeon, his expression just as confused as the sticker he sent.

"MC?" he asked. Then he got a decent look at you. "Oh, MC. What happened to you?" He grabbed your hand, pulling you inside.

"I'm fine," you said. "Can we just go to your room so I can study?"

Simeon frowned, but he did as you asked. He held your hand tightly as he led you down the hall to his room.

Fortunately, you didn't run into any of the other Purgatory Hall occupants.

When you reached his room, Simeon sat you down on his bed as he stood before you, fingers lightly touching the largest bruise on your face.

"I told you, I'm fine," you said again. "I just didn't want to scare Luke, that's all."

"I appreciate that you were concerned about Luke, MC," Simeon said. "But you really should be worried about yourself, too. These injuries are serious. They need treatment."

You groaned a little and leaned forward, letting your forehead rest on his stomach. "I knew you'd be worried about it," you said. "But I'm fine. And anyway, I'll really start to feel better if you just hold me for a bit."

Simeon chuckled. He gently pushed your head back to make you look up at him. "I could never say no to that," he said. "But you really should let me take care of this later." He let his fingers hover over the various places where you had developed bruises.

"Later," you agreed.

Simeon shook his head, but he sat beside you on the bed. He took you in his arms, leaning back against the pillows so you were lying on his chest. He ran his fingers down your back and kissed the top of your head.

"You really should be more careful in the Devildom, MC," he said.

You snuggled into him more. "It's fine. I can handle myself."

"I have no doubt of that," Simeon said. "But I'd rather you didn't get injured. I can only imagine how the demons you fought are faring."

"Let's just say they'll think twice before messing with me again," you said.

Simeon sighed, but he only held you a little closer.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #i always forget how much i love writing for barbatos until i write for him again #request #misc writes

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