#i tried looking it up a few years ago when i realized it wasn’t grammatically correct | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

duhnova · 2 years

Text

fragile heart - kwon soonyoung

ex!soonyoung x fem!reader

word count: ~5.5k (look... i wish i could tell you)

kinktober masterlist

warning(s): smut under the cut!! (mdni), pwp, angst!!!, lovers to ex’s to lovers????, mentions/flashback? of the breakup, mentions of arguing, lots of crying, a lot of struggling emotionally and mentally, they're just heartbroken for a good chunk of this, soft sex????, make up sex, unprotected sex, creampie, a little praising, reader is called good girl & pretty girl & baby, soonyoung spits in readers mouth, cuddling after sex, let me know if i forgot anything! - don't mind grammatical errors/typos (i tried)

you and soonyoung had been together for a little over two years, romantically at least, you’ve known each other for far longer. so when you two had broken up three weeks ago it threw all of your friends and family for a loop. what could’ve possibly happened between you two to make you go from madly in love to strangers in the matter of seconds?

it was simple really, well it wasn’t but you liked to think it was. you and soonyoung had been happy together ever since the beginning but recently, following his return from a long business trip, everything seemed to change. he was more distant with you, albeit his work schedule was hectic but he normally made time to at least sit and have dinner with you, so it was strange when he would text you a “sorry not making it tonight” minutes before you were to pull dinner out of the oven. it broke your heart really, four weeks he spent abroad attending business meetings with his colleagues only for him to come home and barely offer you a small “i missed you” with a kiss on the forehead. it was sweet at first, you thought, until that's all you got. the “i love you”’s were few to none, the skinship was nonexistent and you were lucky to hear his voice over the phone as he would drift off to sleep.

when the time came for you to confront him about what was going on you were met with nothing but agitation and irrational words thrown at you out of anger (from soonyoung). the fight didn’t last long, and sure you could’ve picked a better time to bring it up, but it was the first time you saw him in person since the night he came home. all of the tears and yelling still rung in your ears as you remember how he slammed the door on his way out of your apartment, the sting of the breakup finally settling in when you had realized what you’d done.

a lot of people liked to speculate that it was soonyoung that broke up with you, with his easy to anger self, but in reality it was the other way around. you were just so tired of waiting around for him to come to his senses, and it was hurting you to have your heart neglected the way it was. so in the heat of the argument you had thrown out your thought on breaking up.

“we’ll maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore if you're gonna be more in love with your job than you are me!” you hadn’t realized what you had said then, not even when his face fell for a second and the room went quiet. Not even when he cleared his throat and mumbled out a quiet “maybe we shouldn’t.” before he got angry again, not at you but at himself, for letting it get as bad as it did. it took him leaving, the sound of his tires screeching out of the parking lot for you to fall to your knees, silently begging him to come back.

fast forward a couple weeks and you find yourself sitting in your car, shaking as you pep talk yourself into getting out and going up to soonyoung’s apartment, where you would hopefully retrieve all of your stuff without having a breakdown in front of him. with a quiet “you got this.” you finally step outside, locking your car you make your way to the front door, punching in a code that unlocked it.

soonyoung didn’t bother changing his code, hoping that you would show up one day and tell him it was all a joke, that you still loved him and wanted him back. yet you never came. he would never admit to anyone how much he missed you, how badly the break up hurt him, his pride being too big for him to ever show any type of weakness like that (unless it was in front of you).

he wanted to text you, call you, see you, but he couldn’t bring himself to face you. he had a thousand things he wanted to say, all drafted in his notes, and all of them starting of with an “i love you” cause god knows he didn't say it enough in the weeks leading up to your breakup. He knew he fucked up, he knew exactly what he did. he let his work consume his life, sure he was doing it so he could get that raise his boss has been teasing before the holidays set in, but he failed to let you in on his plan.

he failed to love you, failed to take care of you and your heart and now he’s paying the consequences. the nights have been long and sleepless for him, and everytime he stared up at the fading glowing stars on his ceiling (that you two put up as a joke when he first moved in there) he couldn’t help but cry, thinking about how he’ll never have you in his life again, not even as a friend.

that's actually where soonyoung found himself now, laying in his bed staring at the fake stars, his cheeks covered in dried tears. when he woke up an hour ago to see a text message from you he felt ecstatic. he jumped up immediately and opened it with a smile on his face only for it to fall instantly, his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. ‘I want to come pick up my stuff please.’ was all it said and after sending a quick ‘of course’ soonyoung threw his phone across the room and sobbed into his pillow.

it felt like hours passed while he waited for you, he thought of every possible thing he could say to you, wondering if he should say anything at all. maybe he should just drop to his needs and beg you to forgive him, or he should run down the street to the flower shop he would go to for your anniversary gifts. maybe he should start on making the apartment at least presentable for you, the past weeks having been hard on him and he neglected to take care of his apartment. dirty dishes scattered the kitchen, last night's dinner sat out getting stale on the living room table and his room had piles of dirty clothes sitting everywhere. just seeing the state of his apartment he started to cry again because it made him think about how he treated you the same way. god he felt awful.

you knew the layout of sooyoung's building like the back of your hand, you could navigate it blindfolded with a full bottle of soju in your system (like you did that time you both came back wasted from mingyu’s party and soonyoung thought it would be a good idea to cover your eyes while you both stumbled down the halls giggling and whispering to each other). even after the countless times you’ve been to his apartment, you still found yourself getting off at the wrong floor. you stand in front of the elevator for a little while, a dazed expression on your face, you didn’t want to be here but you had to see him. you had to get your things you kept telling yourself but it was all a ruse, you wanted an excuse to see him, to make him see how bad off you were without him and hopefully, maybe, make him realize he actually did love you more than his job. you hoped he would drop to his knees and beg your forgiveness (that you knew you would give him too quickly), hoped he would hug you and kiss you and tell you he’ll never let you go again.

the elevator opened again behind you, a resident stepping off and walking around you, effectively snapping you out of your daydream. watching the figure walk away you wondered if they were going home to a loving boyfriend or husband and that's when your eyes began to sting. cursing quietly to yourself you turn and catch the elevator doors before they fully close, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry while you were here yet while you stepped back onto the elevator you had to swallow a sob.

with a deep breath you push the top floor, the dread finally settling in when you realized you were only two floors away. your leg began to bounce as a pit formed in your stomach. you were really about to do this, years and years worth of memories that had been built in that apartment were about to be packed away into a garbage bag that you were just going to throw in your storage unit and never touch again.

there's not enough words in the world for you to use to describe how much you hate all of this. as you stepped into the familiar hallway the world seemed to slow down a little. you remembered the first time you ever saw this place, you were terrified because he lived so high up and you still weren’t over your fear of heights then. it was almost like a ghost had touched you as the memories of soonyoung dragging you up onto the roof where an expensive patio set and fire table sat. the echoes of his laugh rang in your ears as he danced around with you telling you to keep your eyes on him and that he wasn’t going to let you fall (a quiet promise that if you did fall he would be there to catch you). it hurt to think about that now, how bittersweet the memory was as this would be your last time ever stepping foot in here again. and while you walked down the hallway, closer to his door, you let a single tear fall.

his door was unmistakable, a worn out welcome mat sat in front of it along with a ceramic tiger that his friends had gifted him when he moved in. it was cute, how he still had it sitting out there despite the poorly glued on leg that broke when his friends got a little to rowdy while rough housing (yet he refused to throw it away and get it a new one “it was the first gift i got for the new place, it means a lot to me” he would say anytime something happened to it and he had to glue it back together).

with a trembling hand you finally knock on the door, three little knocks, soonyoung said he could always tell it was you at the door based on how your knuckles rapped against the thick wood. just as you knocked you felt an immediate feeling of regret, maybe you weren’t ready to do this, maybe you needed more time. and just as you were making your mind up to just run away the door swung open.

soonyoung stood there almost like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes had dark bags under them and his hair was sticking up in all directions. he was still wearing the clothes he had on from yesterday, he was too lazy to change and now the sweats were extra baggy and the shirt fit a little looser than normal. the two of you just stood there, staring at each other for a long time, neither of you could come up with anything to say.

“hi.” soonyoung finally mutters, his voice hoarse from crying all morning. with shaky hands he pushes the door all the way open and steps far out of your way to welcome you in. you don't trust your voice as you step into the apartment, kicking your shoes off and slipping your house slippers on, they were fluffy tigers to match the pair that he was already wearing, they put a bitter taste in your mouth but you couldn’t bring yourself to not wear them as you looked around at the state of his apartment. “are you hungry? thirsty?” he steps past you into the kitchen to quickly put dishes in the sink and throw garbage away so can’t see the extent of how bad it was, how bad he was.

“i’m not hungry.” you mumble, which only puts a frown on his face but he knows better than to push you to at least have something. “but water would be nice.” you really didn’t want to have water but you could already feel your throat drying up as you fought the tears. despite the condition it was in, the place was still very much him. expensive artwork from around the world decorated the walls, brightly colored blankets and pillows littered the black couches, and it smelled like apples and cedar which happened to be his favorite candle scent that you bought him for christmas four years ago and you always makes it a big deal to buy him a new one every year since.

“here you go.” he breaks you out of your trance as he hands you a glass of water with four ice cubes in it, just how you like it. you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched into a smile as you whisper a quiet thank you before taking a sip. a surprisingly calm quiet had settled over you two as you stood there and drank the water, soonyoung looking at the ground as he wiggled his toes around to make the tigers on his feet move.

“when did you get a tiger print rug?” you snorted quietly, finally realized the bright orange rug that sat under the dining room table.

“oh, seokmin bought, said it reminded him of me while he was out shopping with his mother.” soonyoung played with the hem of his shirt nervously. “is it stupid? i feel like it's too bright for the place and it just doesn't-” you cut him off.

“no!” you clear your throat to calm your voice. “no.. i don’t think its stupid, its very much.. you.” you offer him a smile, a genuine smile (something you haven't been able to do in weeks). it seemed to help calm all of soonyoung's nerves though as he smiled back at you and for a second he forgot that you two were broken up. however reality came crashing down on him like a tidal wave and his smile fell, a lump forming in his throat. you noticed his change in demeanor and you remembered why you were here in the first place. “right… i need to pack up my stuff.” you whispered.

gently you hand your glass back to soonyoung who just holds onto it and watches you make your way down to his room. his heart was racing as he thought about how close you were, how you were within his reach yet so far away. this was the moment he had been waiting for, he wanted to make things right with you, tell you he really did love you, yet his feet wouldn’t move. it was like he was glued to the floor as he stared down the empty hall, his bedroom door wide open yet the only thing he could see was your shadow.

“damn it soonyoung, get it together.” he whispers to himself as he finally steps forward, making his way to his room where he gently sets the glass on the coaster that you bought him after he ruined a nice wooden table from cupstains. it broke his heart to see you pulling things out of his closet to fold up and set on his bed, memories of you rummaging around and putting his clothes on played in his head. he allowed himself to live in the past for a little bit, not wanting to believe the present was real as he sits on the end of his bed watching you with love still in his eyes.

it was hard for you to tell if he was looking at you or through you because everytime you would turn around to set something down he wouldn’t move an inch. it worried you a little, the bloodshot eyes, the dark bags he had under them indicated he wasn’t sleeping well, and it was hard to miss how he looked at you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. and so you don’t. you will yourself to keep pushing forward, ignoring the eyes that seemed to be permanently glued to you (which they were, even in a crowded house party soonyoung's eyes were always on you. if he was a compass you would be his north pole, he was always drawn to you and no one else).

“you’re staring.” you whisper while setting a shoe box down, a pair of heels sat inside for when you would go out clubbing or to an event that required you to dress up for.

“i’m sorry, is it making you uncomfortable cause i can stop.” his eyes were wide, he wasn’t expecting to get caught, he didn’t even think he was that obvious (not that he could think about anything else with you in front of him).

“no it’s noot, it's just… distracting.” you sigh quietly, moving to sit on the bed, allowing the pile of clothes you accumulated to sit between you two.

“distracting?” he tilts his head to look at you, his eyes scanning every inch of you, trying to burn you into his memory before he forgets what you look like (not that he ever could, even if heh somehow got amnesia he could never forget you).

“yes.” you chew at your bottom lip, fighting really hard with the urge to spill exactly how you feel to him. it was always so easy to talk to him, the conversations came easy and they flowed for hours, even if you were having a simple conversation about gold fishes. it's just how soonyoung was, he could make anything into a four hour long discussion and it would never be boring. “i’m trying so hard to keep it together right now and having your eyes on me… it just makes me forget about why i’m here.”

“then i guess i’ll never take my eyes off you, not if it means you’ll stay here a little longer.” his voice cracked. he was scared he said the wrong thing when you didn’t respond to him and just as he was about to ask if you were okay he heard a little sniffle come from you. “y/n?” he questioned worriedly, your name almost sounded foreign coming from him yet it was somehow comforting (for the both of you). when he realized you were actually full on crying he began to panic, he fell to his knees in front of you and gently grabbed your face, whispering what happened.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, a quiet sob following. “i’m so sorry i ruined us.” you begin to cry harder as he hushes you quietly, his own tears beginning to blur his vision.

“oh no baby you didn’t ruin us i did.” he mumbled as he tried to wipe away all your tears. “i let my job consume my life, i neglected to take care of you the way i should have as your boyfriend, and i failed to make you feel loved.” tears began to fall down his face. “y/n i am so sorry, i’m sorry for pushing you away, for not telling you i loved you enough, for not making time for you, for everything.” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours. the both of you quietly cried in each other's presence for awhile, it felt nice for you both to finally get all of that off your chest, and to be in each other's grasp.

“i forgive you,” soonyoung couldn’t help but look at you with wide eyes, more tears threatening to spill after he finally managed to stop crying not even a minute ago. “i already forgave you the second you opened the door.” you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. smiling and laughing quietly with you soonyoung lunged forward to kiss you hard on the lips, weeks and weeks of emotions flowed through him into you with just that one kiss.

“i love you y/n,” he kisses you again, “so much,” and again “and i’ll tell you every single second of every single day for the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.” and again, this time a lot more passionate than the rest as he moves forward, gently toppling you over onto the bed without breaking the kiss.

it felt surreal to be kissing him again, it almost felt like the first time all over again as you gingerly wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to your body and tangling your fingers into the hairs at the base of his neck. it didn’t take long for the kiss to get more heated, your tongues swirling around one another as your teeth knocked together gently, the fight for dominance quickly turning into a desperate act to try and taste more of each other.

“god i’ve missed you so much.” soonyoung groans against your lips as he finally pulls away enough to allow you to breathe. there was a thin line of saliva that connected your mouths and heh couldn’t help but lean forward to lick it off your lips, a smirk playing on his face when you nip at his tongue.

“i’ve missed you too, more than i think you could ever imagine.” and with that you're tugging him back down to kiss him again, your hand settling farther up in his hair so you can have a better grip when tugging it. this kiss was a lot sloppier than the last, with a trail of drool dripping down your chin as soonyoung tries to push his tongue further into your mouth, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can.

you make a quiet noise when he runs his tongue a little too close to the back of your throat for your liking but you let him continue to explore, much like what his hands are doing. they originally were originally holding onto your face and when he laid you down they had moved down to rest on the sides of your neck, now his finger tips are teasing under your shirt, begging to feel the smooth skin underneath.

“can i?” he whispers, taking another break to breathe as he tugs gently at the end of your shirt.

“yes.” you breathe out quietly. it’s the only thing you can really say before he's delving back in to kiss you, his cold hands pushing up under your shirt to map out your body.

you moan quietly into his mouth when his hands finally come to rest on your boobs, giving them a little squeeze through your bra. it was easy to tell just how sensitive and touch deprived you both were by how easily your bodies reacted to each other. the second you had moaned soonyoung’s hips bucked against your lower stomach where you could feel his already hardening dick. soonyoung groans quietly at the friction befores he's pulling away from your mouth and pushing up to sit on his knees.

“where are you going?” you pant quietly, watching him in a daze.

“i’m staying right here baby, but these clothes aren’t going to do us any good soo be a good girl and strip for me real quick.” he was always soft with his demands, even now as he desperately threw his shirt off and kicked his sweats and boxers to the floor. despite the thousand times he’s seen you naked his breath still hitched when you layed back down on the bed, your legs spread open for him and your hair framing your face like a halo. “you never cease to amaze me with your beauty.” he whispers before settling between your welcoming legs that wrap around his waist instantly like they always did when he was taking too long.

he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss you again, the angle making his dick push against your wet folds. soonyoung groans at the feeling as he starts to gently rock his hips back and forth, your juices making it easy for him to slide in between your lips. it was delicious how the vein on the underside of his dick dragged along your clit, dragging out quiet whimpers and moans as you rock your own hips trying to get more friction.

“i’ve got you baby, don't worry.” soonyoung mumbles into your mouth before kissing you again. one of his hands reaches down between your bodies so he can grab ahold of his dick. with a couple jerks of his hand and a grunt he’s lining himself up at your entrance before he's slowly pushing into you. he takes his time, not wanting to hurt you as your pussy stretches around his dick. the stimulation was a lot for him to handle as he pulled away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth wide open at the feeling of you squeezing around him. “oh fuck.” he whispers, he’d never get tired of the feeling of being inside of you. your velvety walls hugged him perfectly and the tiny whimper you let out when he finally bottomed out was like music to his ears.

“soonyoung,” you whine, the feeling of being so full was overwhelming as your heels dig into the small of his back. “it’s too much.” it's never been to much for you in the past, but in that moment with all the emotions you’ve been feeling and the lack of having him inside of you for almost two months, the burn of the stretch was slightly to much for you to handle as you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and dig your fingers into his back. you just needed to feel him closer and you would be alright.

“shhh pretty girl, i got you.” he mumbles, he gives your waist a reassuring squeeze before he's rubbing your hip gently. “just relax and let me take care of you.” he kisses the tip of your nose before he’s slowly and carefully moving his face to nestle into the crook of your neck, allowing you to pull his body fully flush against yours.

“fuck,” you gasp quietly when his dick shifts inside of you after pulling him to lay against you. the burn was a dull ache now so you experimentally rock your hips causing you and soonyoung to moan in unison. “please.” your voice shook from the pleasure.

“please what baby?” he whispers against your neck as he kisses it gently, his breathing a little labored as he tried so hard not to cum right then and there.

“please move.” you whimper, digging your heels into his back harder to try and push him deeper into you.

“since you asked so nicely,” he smiles against your neck. while still laying against your body, soonyoung begins to rock his hips. his thrusts are slow and deep as he takes his time to map out every ridge inside of you with his dick, listening to every sound you make so he can burn it into his memory forever (not that it wasn’t already burned into his mind, he just liked to memorize you over and over again).

“need more youngie,” god that nickname drives him nuts when you use it in the bedroom, it's so innocent and sweet yet the way your pussy squelched right after you said it wasn’t. “please.”

“fuck, you know i can’t say no to you baby.” he groans as he moves so hes hovering over you again, one arm on the bed and the other still gripping your waist. “i’ll give you whatever you ask for.” he grunts quietly before he picks up his speed, his hips slapping against yours violently as he zeros in on your g-spot,

your toes curl and your head leans back deeper into the pillows as you let out a string of whines and moans, your head going completely fuzzy from the pleasure. it was crazy how well soonyoung knew your body, even after so long apart from each other. and it was even crazier how he remembered exactly what to do to make you fall apart in seconds.

“open that pretty mouth wider for me baby.” despite the relentless rhythm of sooyoung's hips rutting intoyours, you still managed to listen and open your mouth wider for him, you even went as far as sticking your tongue out (your body knew exactly what he was getting ready to do.) “good girl.” he groans loudly before he's taking his hand off your hip to grab your face, holding you still long enough for him to spit onto your waiting tongue. letting go of your face he watches you swallow his spit through hooded eyes, another loud groan leaving him when you stick your tongue back out to show him that you swallowed it all.

soonyoung moves to rest his other arm against the bed, encasing you fully before picking up speed again. he was glad that he didn’t share a wall with his neighbor as the headboard began to slam against it, chipping away more of the paint (not that he cared, the little dent in the wall was two and a half years in the making and he was determined to not get his deposit back when he moved out of there).

“close,” you gasp out between moans. “so close, please,” you moan louder. “dont stop.”

“i wasn’t dreaming about it.” he groans before leaning down to kiss you, effectively swallowing all your moans as he reaches down between your bodies to rub at your clit with his thumb. the pressure was building up quickly in your lower stomach as you clenched harder around his dick, moaning louder into his mouth and scratch your nails harshly down his back (soonyoung always loved when you scratched him hard enough for it to sting, it reminded him of just how good he fucked you).

“soonyoung!” you gasp loudy, a whiney moan leaving you as your orgasm comes crashing over you like a freight train. soonyoung continued to rub at your clit as his thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm creeping up on him as he knocked his forehead against yours to rest it there.

“fuck.” he almost whines as his hips still inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. in the middle of your post orgasm haze you were able to see sooyoung's face clearly, his eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was wide open as he pant quietly trying to catch his breath, and despite the eyebags and the dried tears you couldn’t help but thing that he was the most prettiest person you had ever seen.

you two stay like that for awhile, relishing in the fleeting pleasure of your orgasms while trying to regain your composure. with a quiet hiss soonyoung is pulling out of you and collapsing on the bed next to you, his arm going to slide under your neck so he can gently tug your head into his chest.

“i love you.” he whispers, his heart racing quickly as he braces himself for what you could possibly say next. sure you forgave him and you two just had sex but that doesn’t mean you still loved him.

“i love you to soonyoung.” you tilt your head up to look at him, a soft reassuring smile on your face when you noticed his eyes looked terrified before they looked excited. with a huge smile on his face he's gripping your hair gently so he can tug you up to meet him halfway for a kiss.

“will you be my girlfriend again?” he mumbles against your lips.

“i thought us having makeup sex was us getting back together?” you laugh quietly as you kiss him again really quickly. “but yes, i will be your girlfriend again.” soonyoungs pout turned to a smile real quick before he's rolling you to over so he can lay on top of you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he sighs happily as he snuggles into your body, mumbling that he wants to stay like this a little while longer before you guys have to go wash up. even after you two talked through everything later that night over dinner, your heart would still drop when he would have to leave for a business trip, scared that you would start this cycle all over again when he would get back. but soonyoung made it a part of his routine to call you everyday just to tell you he loved you (he very easily could've just texted it but he wanted you to hear him say it). and everytime he would come home from his trips he'd go straight to you, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his suitcase in another.

feedback + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#duhnova kinktober 2022 #ex!soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #seventeen smut

1K notes · View notes

vague-bisexual-crimes · 3 months

Text

hiiii I wrote this at midnight last night and edited it like five minutes after I woke up so please be nice and forgive any grammatical errors 🙏

Description: almost 3k words of post-hiatus, pre-relationship Jimmy and Lister, ft. pining and background Frances and Rowan.

Rated: G

TWs: canon-typical anxiety, brief mentions of alcohol and drinking

Without any further ado my first (bicci) fanfic ever!

sleepless nights (as long as they’re with you)

Somewhere between Lister almost dying, drunk and alone in a river some short ways from Pierro’s and the release of The Ark’s first post-hiatus album, Jimmy realized something. Jimmy realized that maybe, just maybe, Lister wasn’t just objectively attractive, but, in fact, Jimmy was attracted to him. Jimmy tries to think back to when they were younger, or even just a few years ago to try to figure out if the attraction is recent or had always been there. Either way, the romantic feelings began to develop a few months after they’d brought Lister home from the hospital.

Rowan is gone visiting his not-girlfriend Frances Janvier, so it’s just Jimmy and Lister in their new-ish apartment. It’s just outside London, close enough for them to be in London on short notice, far enough that they can breathe.

None of the three boys have technically dated during or after the hiatus, but Rowan has been talking to Frances Janvier for a few months, since they’d met at a movie premiere and she had no idea who The Ark was aside from “that’s a band, isn’t it?”, and Rowan was immediately enamored. Jimmy and Lister had placed bets on how soon Rowan and Frances would get together that same night.

It’s getting to be late for Jimmy and Lister. A few weeks into the hiatus they had all begun to put in a genuine effort to get a solid 8 hours of sleep a night, but tomorrow is a day off, and tonight they just don’t care.

The two of them are laying on Jimmy’s bed while Brooklyn 99 episodes auto-play in the background, although they haven’t been watching for some time now.

Lister is ranting about the book series he’s just finished, one that Jimmy read a few years ago and remembers very little of, but is content to listen to Lister tell him the entire plot, along with all of his opinions.

That said, Jimmy is finding it difficult to pay attention to what Lister was saying. Lister’s sitting next to him, wearing Jimmy’s well-loved Black Parade hoodie that Jimmy pulled up from the floor after Lister kept complaining about being cold, but not wanting to get up. Something that should be known about Lister is that whenever he speaks enthusiastically about something, his hands and his arms move a lot. Normally, this is fine and not really notable to Jimmy, however tonight, every time Lister raises an arm, Jimmy’s hair-too-small hoodies rises up and a sliver of Lister’s bare stomach becomes visible.

You would think that when Lister had been laying in his bed shirtless, Jimmy would have been distracted, but Lister had so rarely ever worn anything more than boxers that the sight no longer phased Jimmy. But Lister was in Jimmy’s bed, in Jimmy’s hoodie, and Jimmy was struggling to not stare at his stomach.

“—and I despise love triangles, they’re entirely unnecessary and frankly annoying, but somehow this book did it well?” Lister says, sounding mildly distressed at his own statement.

“Yeah, it’s not like an Edward and Jacob love triangle at all.” Jimmy replies before Lister is rushing off on an entirely different tangent about Twilight.

Blame the Twilight talk, but now Jimmy can’t help but notice Lister’s newest tattoo, a floral piece on the side of his neck. It looks pretty—Lister looks pretty.

Lister looks healthier than Jimmy thinks he’s ever seen him. He’d stopped drinking and was beginning to put on a bit of muscle. But it’s not only that, he has this look in his eye that Jimmy hasn’t seen since The Ark finished recording their first EP Kill It. Like he’s really happy.

Jimmy shakes his head to himself, tears his eyes away from Lister’s neck, and his eyes land on the long forgotten television.

He got over you years ago. Jimmy reminds himself. It would be cruel to do this to him years after the fact. Lister doesn’t deserve that, and Jimmy isn’t going to do that to him.

“—Jim-jam?” Lister’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Jimmy turns his eyes back to Lister, who seems mildly amused as he takes in Jimmy’s expression.

“Were you listening?” Lister asks, not upset but genuinely inquiring.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my head.” Jimmy replies, which is not technically untrue.

“Are you alright?” Lister asks, his expression shifting just so slightly from amusement to worry, now.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listening now.” Jimmy coaxes Lister to keep talking and forget his concern.

“Are you sure? You looked upset?” Lister asks. A good and bad thing from The Ark all getting some therapy during the hiatus was that Lister was keen to communicate now. Which was good most of the time, and bad right now.

Jimmy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Lister. At his Black Parade hoodie, the sleeves fitted where they should be baggy, Lister’s hands no longer moving, but tucked into its pocket. At Lister’s floral tattoo on the side of his neck that Jimmy has wanted to kiss since Lister came home and showed Jimmy and Rowan the piece in the middle of their kitchen while Rowan was making tea and Jimmy was sitting on the counter listening to Rowan go on and on about Frances.

Jimmy’s eyes finally slid up to look at Lister’s face. At the lips he kissed once, in a bathroom, years ago, when Lister had been drunk, and Jimmy didn’t feel that way about him. Where Lister had profusely apologized and begged Jimmy not to hate him. It was an absurd statement then, and it still was. How could Jimmy hate Allister Bird?

Jimmy’s eyes find Lister’s. Lister’s gaze is unwavering and kind. Sometimes Jimmy wonders what his relationship would be to Lister if The Ark hadn’t become what it did.

“Jimmy?”

Therapy also means that Jimmy has learned how to properly communicate. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to.

Jimmy can feel the panic start to actually build in his chest, the real panic, lively and nauseous, not the thought spiral that Lister had seen moments prior.

It’s now or never. Jimmy seems to realize all at once. He can tell Lister how he feels, potentially ruining the closest relationship he has ever had, that isn’t Rowan or Pierro and Joan, potentially distancing himself from one of the two people in the world who actually know him and understand his life, potentially ruining everything that they had spent the past six months building back up for the band, the band which had managed to have wildly unprecedented success after what their management had considered a far-too-long hiatus.

Or he can tell Lister how he feels and Lister could feel the same way and they can live happily-ever-after.

The latter seems too good to be true.

Lister has always been too good for Jimmy. He always will be. Jimmy is a mess. Even now, when he’s at the best place he has ever been with his mental health and The Ark is doing better than it ever has, what with the new album doing even better than Joan of Arc had at release, Jimmy is still a mess.

But Lister is still looking at him like that. Looking at him like he cares.

“I’m okay, Lister.” Jimmy puts on a weak smile to combat the lumb in his throat. “Do y’want some tea?” Jimmy asks, already halfway out of bed.

“I can do it, watch Brooklyn 99.” Lister says, his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, gently coaxing him to sit back down.

“You didn’t want to get up—” Jimmy begins to protest.

“I don’t mind.” Lister says so simply that Jimmy nearly begins to cry.

Jimmy says a much-too-quiet “okay”, and Lister slips out into the hallway.

Jimmy tries for a brief moment to actually watch Brooklyn 99 and wait for Lister to get back so he can tell Jimmy about his books. It doesn’t work.

Jimmy sighs in frustration and puts his head between his knees like he can cure romantic feelings in the same way as motion sickness.

Lister either makes the quickest cup of tea known to man, or Jimmy doesn’t notice how long he’s been staring at his fitted sheet, his mind somewhere between a panic attack and a confession.

“Jimmy?” Jimmy wishes he would stop doing things to make his name sound so laced with concern every time it falls off Lister’s lips. “You alright?”

Jimmy sits up and quickly takes the cup of tea from Lister.

“You look like you're about to be sick.” Lister says. “Do you want me to hand you the bin?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Do y’want me to call Rowan?”

“Please, don’t.” Jimmy finally says. He takes a sip of tea if only to avoid this conversation for a moment longer. Chamomile vanilla. Jimmy’s favorite.

He looks up at Lister who’s still standing next to Jimmy’s bed watching him. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?” Lister says, and god there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that Jimmy knows he didn’t intend to slip through.

“Of course,” Jimmy says, his voice more level than it’s been since the start of this evening. “I tell you everything.” Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. He tells Lister everything…except this.

Lister crawls over Jimmy to get to the other side of the bed, not spilling Jimmy’s tea by some miracle, and immediately wraps his arm around Jimmy. “I love you, you know that?” Lister says with his cheek pressed into Jimmy’s hair.

“I love you, too, Lister.” This doesn’t really feel like a lie. Jimmy, Rowan, and Lister had loved each other for as long as they’d been friends. They haven’t been so vocal about it until their early twenties, but that has never made it any less true.

Jimmy drinks his tea in silence, the only noise in the entire apartment being Jimmy’s TV, and the soft rhythm of Lister’s breath in his ear.

When Jimmy sets his mug on his bedside table, Lister asks, “Want to go to bed?”

It is properly late now and all of Jimmy’s panic has made him exhausted.

“Yeah,” Jimmy answers and Lister’s arm falls away from Jimmy and he begins to crawl out of bed.

Jimmy catches Lister’s arm, moving a bit too fast, and says. “You don’t need to get up. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“It’s okay,” Lister begins to slide his arm from Jimmy’s hand.

“Your bed isn’t even made and you’re already here.” Jimmy tries to shrug nonchalantly and sets the TV to turn off after an hour.

“Okay,” Lister says only a bit louder than a whisper.

Jimmy lays down and pulls the covers up and around him, pretending he isn’t aware of every move Lister makes as he sets his phone on the floor by the bed, takes off Jimmy’s Black Parade hoodie and crawls fully under the covers.

Jimmy wasn’t lying when he said his bed was big enough for both of them, there’s a solid foot of bed between them and they still have wiggle room on the other side.

It never takes Jimmy long to fall asleep whenever Lister is there.

***

Rowan comes home the next morning with the news that he’s officially going out with Frances Janvier and Lister slyly hands Jimmy a twenty under the table when Rowan isn’t looking.

“Is she gonna be coming ‘round then?” Jimmy asks between bites of cereal.

“She’ll be ‘round next week, but not for a while after that, she and Aled have some Universe City stuff to do.” Rowan replies.

“That’s great, Ro,” Lister says. “‘Bit jealous that you’re the first one of us to be in a relationship since the hiatus but still.”

Rowan rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t waver. Rowan and Lister’s relationship has massively improved over the past few years. Partially from Rowan learning that he doesn’t need to take care of Lister all the time, partially because Lister has learned to take care of himself.

“You could date anyone.” Rowan says.

“Of course I could, have you considered none of them are good enough for Allister Bird?” Lister replies instantly.

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Rowan says.

“I’m with Lister on this one, Rowan, how come you’re the one who always ends up in good, long-term relationships?” Jimmy says as he puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher.

“I dated Bliss for two years and I haven’t even been dating Frances for 24 hours.”

“That’s longer term than Jimmy and I for like five years running.” Lister points out.

“That’s a lie! I dated that guy for three weeks when I was 16.” Jimmy protests.

“Relationships from when you were 16 don’t count.” Lister shrugs as though it’s law. “And you can’t even remember his name, can you?”

Jimmy ignores the last part. “You’re counting Bliss!”

“Because they dated while Rowan was also 17 and 18.”

“Impeccable logic as always, Bird.” Rowan says with a pat on Lister’s shoulder. Lister grins smugly at Jimmy.

“Rowan agrees with me.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rowan says and then they’re all laughing.

***

Frances comes round the week later to stay for two nights. Jimmy and Lister gleefully tease Rowan about having a girlfriend (although they maintain that they’re perfectly nice and civil to Frances, who is lovely), but eventually the novelty begins to wear off and Jimmy and Lister decide to leave Rowan and Frances alone and retreat to Jimmy’s bedroom.

Watching Brooklyn 99 in Jimmy’s room has become something of a routine of theirs lately. Some nights they watch a few episodes until they actually feel tired and Lister will go to his own room to sleep, other nights he sleeps in Jimmy’s room.

Jimmy prefers the nights where Lister sleeps in Jimmy’s room. He can always sleep when Lister is there, despite the background anxiety about his feelings for Lister, he feels safe with him.

Tonight neither of them are really watching the show, instead they’re scrolling through their respective personal social media accounts that the fans somehow have yet to find. It’s a content silence and Jimmy is perfectly happy to continue to watch Brooklyn 99 and scroll through his phone until he falls asleep, but then Lister says,

“Tell me to shut up if I’ve got the wrong idea, but,” Lister pauses and takes a breath. “you seemed genuinely very stressed about something the other night, and you don’t have to tell me, but you haven’t seemed that stressed in so long and I’m worried about you.” Lister looks at him.

Jimmy means to say more, but all that comes out is, “Lister…”

“You don’t have to tell me just…I’m here for you, for anything. I need you to know that.”

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak and closes it.

“Do you remember when you were drunk and you kissed me?” It’s not at all what Jimmy means to say and as soon as it’s out of his mouth he feels shit for bringing it up.

“I—yeah,” Lister looks embarrassed and slightly pained at the memory.

“And I told you, more or less, that I didn’t feel that way about you,” Jimmy continues slowly.

“Jimmy, you don’t have to reject me again. I got it the first time, haha.” It’s the saddest laugh Jimmy’s ever heard and for a moment his entire train of thought derails.

“What?” Jimmy asks.

“I didn’t think I was being that obvious. God, I’m sorry, Jimmy, you must’ve been so uncomfortable.” Lister explains and he looks like he might start crying.

“D’you still like me?” Jimmy’s voice is soft.

“It feels a bit juvenile to say it that way but…but yeah…” Lister thinks for a moment. “What’d’you mean, did you not know?” Jimmy can see Lister trying to work out what the hell is happening and coming up more confused than before.

“No, no, Lister…” the words are still stuck in his throat. It’s now or never.

Jimmy turns to properly face Lister and puts his hands on his cheeks, the tips of his fingers brush against Lister’s soft blond hair. Lister leans in slightly to the touch, but confusion dances across his face.

Slowly, with plenty of time for Lister to stop him, Jimmy leans in. He stops a breath from Lister’s lips and presses his forehead against Lister’s. Lister’s hands come up to rest on Jimmy’s biceps, his breath quickens and seemingly against his will, his eyes flutter shut.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy whispers.

“God, please,” Lister whispers and then Jimmy’s lips meet Lister’s and this time it feels right.

Lister’s hands move from Jimmy’s arms to his waist, pulling him gently so that he’s sat in Lister’s lap. Jimmy’s thumbs stroke Lister’s cheeks as they kiss, every anxiety he’d had about telling Lister how he felt washing away with each brush of his lips against Lister’s.

After a moment their lips part from the other’s and Jimmy presses his forehead to Lister’s again as they breathe.

“That’s what you were having anxiety about?” Lister whispers, his breath fanning across Jimmy’s face.

Jimmy nods and slides his arms around Lister’s neck to rest on his shoulders.

Lister kisses him, once, chaste, before burying his face in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Lister’s arms tighten around Jimmy’s waist and they hold each other for god-knows how long before they hear Frances and Rowan laughing at something in the living room.

They pull back just enough to see each other’s faces. Jimmy runs his fingers through Lister’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes and then kisses him.

“Stay with me tonight?” Jimmy asks.

“Always.” Lister replies and kisses him again.

#iwbft #i was born for this #the ark #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #rowan omondi #frances janvier #alice oseman #iwbft fanfic #bicci #Lister x Jimmy #minor Frances x Rowan

41 notes · View notes

gredandforgesmischief · 3 years

Text

long story short - f.w

title: long story short

pairing: fred x female slytherin reader

summary: fred has been in love with y/n since they were fifteen, but the universe was never really on their side. (idk i'm bad at writing summaries but basically best friends to lovers. this takes place during gof in the spring.) this is also vaguely inspired by "long story short" by taylor swift bc i'm obsessed w her (see if you can find the lyrics)

other characters/pairings mentioned: adrian pucey/y/n, fred/angelina, george weasley, harry potter, ron weasley, neville longbottom

content warnings: its all fluff, some parts can be construed as angsty?? maybe probably not. sad fred at some point. sad y/n at some point. fred and y/n are both clueless all the time for no reason.

a/n: i wrote this with my Head Empty, but I hope you enjoy (feedback welcomed) also this wasn't proof read so ignore any grammatical errors

“... right Fred?”

“Yeah that’s cool, whatever,” Fred grumbled as a very irritated George hit his side.

The pair were having breakfast at the Gryffindor table, and the two were supposed to be brainstorming shop ideas, but it was apparent that Fred’s mind was off somewhere else.

Regardless of how hard he tried, Fred’s mind was often clouded with his feelings about Y/N. The two had been best friends since third year, and it took him a long time to realize that he wanted to be much more than just her best friend. But just as expected, right as Fred realized, Y/N had gotten into a relationship.

“Dude, Y/N is with Adrian now, you need to get over it,” George said. While he did feel bad for his twin, there wasn’t much that either of them could do about it.

Fred nodded, but just as he was about to respond to his brother, he noticed a flustered Y/N get up from the Slytherin table. In all honesty, if Fred hadn’t been staring at her he wouldn’t have noticed how distraught she was. Without another thought, the ginger boy got up from his seat and followed her into the corridor.

“Y/N, wait up!” Fred called out, not quite sure what he was going to say to her. The Slytherin girl slowed down, waiting for her friend to catch up.

When it came to his and Y/N’s relationship, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t talk about, but Y/N’s relationship with Adrian was a conversation that was often avoided. Y/N knew how Fred felt about Adrian, so she made an effort to keep the two as separate portions of her life.

“Hi, Fred,” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy.

Fred winced. Up until she had started dating Adrian, Y/N always called Fred by his nickname. When Y/N started dating Adrian she pulled away from Fred quickly. He could tell she tried to make everything seem normal, but it wasn’t.

“Is everything alright? You walked out of the Great Hall a bit fast.” Fred said. The pair were now sitting on a bench in the courtyard.

“Just… some stuff with Adrian.” Y/N said, knowing that there was no way that Fred would allow her to leave it at that. There was an ever growing vendetta that Fred had against Adrian, and him hurting Y/N would probably be the worst thing that the Slytherin could do.

“Listen, I know I’m not Adrian’s number one fan, but I’m still your best friend.” Fred said, hoping that Y/N would talk to him. It had been months since the two had chatted about anything of substance and he feared their friendship would fall apart if they kept avoiding each other.

Y/N went silent for a moment, weighing her options in her head. After a short while she looked at Fred and started, “Have you ever been in love?”

The question completely caught Fred off guard. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected Y/N to say, but that wasn’t a question he was prepared to think about.

Sure, Fred had dated around during his time at Hogwarts, but the only person he had ever really loved was Y/N. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted to talk about with her, particularly because he didn’t know how great he would be at concealing his emotions. How terrible would it be for him to confess it to her while she was in a relationship?

Fred nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been in love before.”

“How did you know? What did it feel like?” Y/N asked, looking genuinely curious. Was Y/N truly asking him about this?

Fred looked at her incredulously, speaking once more, “Honestly, love, I think it's different for everyone,” The look on Y/N’s face was unreadable as Fred continued, “for me, I just knew.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “I feel like it’s all moving too fast.” There she goes again without any elaboration.

As Fred continued to give her terse answers, Y/N decided she had to describe what she meant. She had never really been great at putting her feelings into words, but she’d try.

“Adrian told me he loved me last night,” Fred’s face faltered, “and I didn’t say a word back.”

Fred wasn’t shocked by the idea that Adrian loved Y/N. The pair had been together for nearly five months, and Fred knew from experience how easy it was to fall in love with Y/N. If anything, it was more of a shock to him that Y/N didn’t say it back.

“But you do love him, right?” Once again, Fred hoped that Y/N would say what he wanted to hear. It was cruel of him to wish that Adrian and Y/N wouldn’t work out, but he couldn’t help it.

“I do,” Dammit. Y/N continued, “but I don’t think I’m in love with him. You know?”

Fred understood completely. He had loved a few of the girls he had dated, but he never felt in love. There was always some sort of hesitation that he had.

“I... just feel like I’m trying to force something that isn’t there,” The frustration was evident in Y/N’s voice. “And I thought that maybe I just needed more time, maybe we were moving too fast, but honestly I just can’t feel the way that I want to about Adrian.”

“Do you think there’s a reason why you can’t love him? You wouldn’t stop talking about him during Christmas break.” Fred said, recalling Y/N’s happiness after Adrian had asked her to the Yule Ball.

“What do you mean? I don’t think I acted any differently about Adrian during break.” Y/N was confused. If anything, Fred was the one who had acted strangely during Christmas break.

“No, I definitely recall you acting funny,” Fred said as Y/N shot him a glare.”You ignored me for two weeks Y/N.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head.

Fred remembered the two weeks in vivid detail. Up until six months ago, Fred and Y/N were attached at the hip. That’s why Y/N’s sudden absence in his life stung. In some way it felt like Y/N had picked Adrian over Fred, but he didn’t know why.

“Fred, I did ignore you, but do you really not know why?” Y/N said.

Once more, Fred tried to remember the events leading up to Y/N and Adrian’s relationship, but everything seemed normal. Adrian and Y/N had always been friends. It wasn’t strange for friends to date.

Fred shook his head, prompting Y/N to tell him what had happened.

It was a week before the Yule Ball, and the cheeriness around the castle was gleaming. The Great Hall was decked out with garlands of tinsel. Mistletoe was hanging in all of the corridors. It was nearly impossible to be unhappy with how much light was around., but as Y/N had watched what felt like the fiftieth person get asked to the Yule Ball, she was feeling less than cheerful.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, earning an adoring smile from the girl in front of him. She was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, as she had just been working on an herbology project with Neville.

“Hiya, Freddie, what’s up?” Y/N was excited. She and Fred had been spending a lot more time together recently, and she was convinced that he was going to finally ask her out.

Fred smiled, “I need advice. ” Y/N nodded, encouraging the ginger boy to continue, “if you were to get asked to say, a ball, how would you want to be asked?”

Y/N was practically exploding with joy at this point, but alas, Fred still needed an answer.

“Well, for me personally, I’m not fond of the huge gestures. I feel like if you really like someone then you should just… ask? I know that’s a bit boring, but I wouldn’t want everyone to be involved in my business, so public gestures aren’t for me.” Y/N was getting rambly, a clear sign of her nerves.

Before Y/N could ramble anymore, Fred was marching up the dormitory stairs, calling out a short, “Thanks, Y/N!” over his shoulder.

Although Fred’s behavior was strange, Y/N brushed it off as Fred being, well, Fred. The boy often did things that were unexplainable. It wasn’t until dinner that day that Y/N had realized why Fred had asked her about the ball.

“Y/N, c’mon what’s on your mind?” Adrian asked, poking his friend in the side. Y/N was staring down her plate, pushing around peas with her fork. After her encounter with Fred earlier in the day, she had been on edge. The ball was coming up quick, and at this point it was now or never.

“It’s nothing important, don’t worry about me.” Y/N had finally put her fork down, flashing a sad smile at the boy. Adrian looked suspicious, but as he opened his mouth to talk, the pair noticed commotion at the Gryffindor table.

George was ruffling Fred’s hair, and Ron and Harry were laughing. Fred had a smirk on his face, his cheeks tinged a pink color. Just as Y/N was about to approach Fred to ask what the deal was, Fred walked out of the dining hall.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/N told Adrian, before walking to the Gryffindor table to ask George about what was up.

“Hey, George, what was that all about?” Y/N asked as she sat.

“Oh, Freddie boy just asked Angelina to the Yule Ball!” George replied, causing the two other boys to start to laugh again.

Y/N muttered a “thanks” to George before heading out of the Great Hall. She nearly sprinted to the Slytherin common room, not wanting to have a meltdown in the middle of the hall. Y/N was convinced that Fred would ask her to the ball, and it stung like hell to know that he had asked someone that wasn’t her.

When she arrived outside the common room, Adrian was waiting outside for her. Without any question, Adrian outstretched his arms, embracing the teary-eyed girl.

“You wanted me to ask you to the ball!?” Fred asked, mentally slapping himself for being so clueless.

Y/N nodded her head yes, clasping her hands together. She thought she had been very obvious about how she felt about Fred, but it was clear he truly didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I never meant to make you upset. Angie and I went as friends anyway.” Fred apologized. He hated seeing Y/N cry, and to think that he was the reason made his insides churn.

While Y/N had cleared up her pre-Yule Ball behavior, there were still a few questions that Fred had.

“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with Adrian? If you wanted me to ask you out, why did you start dating Adrian?” Fred asked, despite knowing how forward all of those questions were.

Y/N sighed, this wasn’t the part of the story that she was particularly proud of.

“Other than you and George, Adrian is probably my closest guy friend. After I heard about you and Angie, Adrian was the person who comforted me while I was crying. I think somewhere along the lines I got my feelings for him all confused…” Y/N trailed off.

“Adrian was sort of an escape from everything. I thought that if you were dating Angie it would stop whatever friendship we had going. It felt like I got knocked off of some weird pedestal.” Y/N’s explanation made some sense, but it didn’t explain why she wouldn’t just talk to him.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me, Y/N? We’re best friends.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, “I sort of went down a rabbit hole when I stopped talking to you. I was embarrassed, and Adrian was sweet. But after it all, I think I was trying to emulate whatever feelings I had for you with him. I thought clinging to another person would stop my feelings. Clearly it didn’t work. It was just a bad time.”

From what Y/N was saying, Fred was hoping that this meant something for the two of them. But right now, Y/N was still with Adrian, and neither of them would ever do that to them.

“Y/N, you need to tell Adrian how you feel.” If the two were going to date, it had to be proper. Fred didn’t want to be some sort of secret.

“I did, that’s why I ran off actually. We broke it off yesterday, it was just a lot for me to be sitting with him today…” Y/N was slightly embarrassed.

“There goes your excellent communication skills again, why didn’t you start with that?” Fred teased, earning a groan from Y/N.

“Hey, the knife cuts both ways. If you had just said that you were asking Angie to the ball I would have never gotten my hopes up!” Y/N quipped back, intertwining her hands with Fred’s.

Fred sighed happily, “Is there any chance that you still feel the same way about me?” Fred was sure he knew what she’d say, but this situation had proved the two needed to talk more.

Y/N laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m all about you, Freddie.”

162 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Voices.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: nothing but floofy-floof

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: in which you can hear the voice of your soulmate in your head and Y/N's soulmate is someone really special— her celebrity crush.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! do y'all know how long ago I wrote this fic, like— at least 2 years ago. damn. so in advance, im sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes or bad punctuation in the fic that I forgot to correct (apology for bad english 😌)

oh and

bold/italics - chris

only italics - y/n

---

Hey, you still there?

Y/N snapped out of a trance and focused on the voice. Yeah, yeah I'm still there, she thought to herself. She was hearing the voice of her soulmate, or rather, was speaking to him, telepathically. The thing is, you could hear the voice of your soulmate in your head. You could talk, hold conversations, but the only thing was that you couldn't ask for their name.

You had to guess. Most of the people made plans, like let's meet here or there and concentrate hard enough, I'll see your name written on a paper. It was a thing, I mean, if you concentrated hard enough, you could see what your soulmate was doing. It was like a cheat code of sorts. Most of them found their soulmate in that way.

You see, Y/N loved surprises, so she wasn't going to find her soulmate just yet. Y/N wanted to figure it out for herself. Your soulmate couldn't hear every single one of your thoughts, though (which was how she had zoned out mid-conversation). Listen, we should meet up sometime.

Aw, already? she thought with a pout on her lips. Yes, I'm very excited to meet you, I've been waiting for too long, the voice replied, chuckling. It was a manly voice, really deep and raspy. She loved it. When Y/N was small, about 4-5 years old, all she could hear were swear words and dirty thoughts; characteristics of a teenage boy.

From that, she inferred, that soulmate was much older than her, about 8-9 years older than her. She didn't mind, She was kind of into older guys anyway… But I like this game we have! Why do you want to ruin it? she asked, shaking her head. Alright, sweetheart, just for you, I'm holding back. But I don't have much patience, the voice laughed. Y/N smiled.

Without even meeting her, Chris loved the voice in his head. She sounded so sweet and welcoming, maybe she was younger than him. He couldn't wait to meet her. Chris had tried to plan their meeting for so long now, but she just wouldn't give in. She was also a feisty one. He smiled to himself as he walked down the street, engaged in thoughts about his soulmate.

In his haste, he accidentally bumped into someone. "I'm so sorry!" he blurted out, instead hearing a soft ouch, shit in his head. His brows furrowed. The lady he had bumped into just kept on walking. Are you alright? he asked his soulmate in his mind. Yeah, just bumped into someone while walking.

I bumped into someone just now too! he told her excitedly, still staring at the lady who had now stopped in her tracks. She turned around, scanning the crowd. Then she looked at him, but maybe she didn't realize that she had bumped into him. Holy shit, I see— Then it all went blank. See what? Chris questioned desperately.

He still wasn't sure whether the woman he had just bumped into was his soulmate or not.

Why can't I say the name of the guy who played the role of Captain America?

Chris froze and stared at the lady, jaw dropped. She was lost in her thoughts, confused. He slowly walked to her and stood in front of her; she stared back at him, her heart racing. This was her celebrity crush, who was currently looking at her as if she hung the moon. But why? Why was he looking at her like that?

"You can't say his name because that's me, you technically can't say his name because you aren't allowed to," Chris whispered to her, smiling softly. Her eyes widened.

"You! You're the voice I hear in my mind! Chris freaking Evans is my soulmate?! How did I not realize?!" The woman exclaimed, shocked. Soon though, she got a wide smile on her face. His eyes widened too, hers was the voice he heard as well! "What's your name?" he asked her as they hugged. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she replied, smiling.

"Wanna join me for a coffee?" he offered, holding his hand out. She put her palm on top of his and nodded. Both of them entered a nearby coffee shop. "So, what do you do?" he asked her after ordering two coffees. "Nothing. I'm unemployed right now, just got out of my last job. I gave an interview yesterday at Ralph Lauren, just waiting for a call back," she shrugged.

"Oh, into fashion?" he asked her, smiling. "Yeah, got my degree and all. Just needed a job, Ralph Lauren offers a good amount of money," she chuckled. Chris smiled again. "Reminds me of Rachel Green." She laughed more, which warmed his heart. Her laugh was adorable. Suddenly, her phone rang and she looked at him, wide-eyed.

He nodded dismissively and she picked up the call. She spoke for a while and when she ended the call, she had the biggest smile on her face.

"I got the job at Ralph Lauren, I'm starting tomorrow!" Y/N squealed. They couldn't have picked a better timing. "Congratulations, Y/N!" he told her, grinning. After spending some more time at the cafe, they parted ways. She went home while he went back to the sets where they were filming Avengers: Age of Ultron.

"Hi Chris, you were out for a long time, what's up?" Chris Hemsworth asked, smiling at Chris Evans as they stumbled upon each other. "Nothing, just met my soulmate, had a cup of coffee with her." The older Chris feigned nonchalance. "You what?! That's awesome, man! So, how is she, what does she do?" Hemsworth asked him excitedly as both of them walked inside.

Robert and Scarlett were there, talking. "She's so beautiful, I stopped functioning when I saw her. She works at Ralph Lauren, she's a fashion designer," Chris told him with a smile. Robert and Scarlett looked up. "Who?" Scarlett questioned. "Y/N," he said simply, sitting beside Robert. "Who's that?" Robert inquired. "My soulmate." Chris smiled, as if in a trance.

"Boy, you look like you're in love," Scarlett laughed. "Because I am, she's that beautiful," he told her adamantly. "Whoa, did you ask her out?" Robert snorted. "I'm back from our first date." We had our first date right now, didn't we? he asked her in his mind.

Of course we did, I loved it. Hope to meet you again soon, her voice replied and he could practically feel her smile.

Sure, I'm in town for a few more months, I'll mind-text you as to when I'm free, he told her, sporting a smile on his face. She outright laughed in the comfort of her own home. Mind-text? Sounds fun, she agreed and focused on the Netflix series she was watching, turning off the "magical telepathic link" between them.

Chris, too, focused on the others only to see them smiling at him. "Talking to her?" He nodded at Scarlett. A few minutes later, all of them went to another room to begin with the shooting of a new scene.

---

Y/N danced as she prepared dinner, singing along to You Don't Know Me by Jax Jones. It had been a month since she last saw Chris. He had promised her a date, but he didn't get time. She couldn't blame him, he was a busy man. Y/N was shouting the lyrics of the song in her head, unaware of the fact that Chris was snooping in on her mind.

Hey, calm down, she heard Chris chuckling in her mind and shrieked in real life. What are you— are you snooping on my mind? Chris! she thought, scandalized. He laughed more. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wanted to ask you out. Are you free right now? We could meet in the same coffee shop, he asked. She grinned and nodded to herself. Of course, I'll be there in 15.

She quickly got dressed, wearing a pair of track pants and a t-shirt (like she was wearing on their first date). She didn't bother with her hair or makeup, it looked good anyway, she just bolted out of the house. Y/N entered the coffee shop to see Chris already sitting there, wearing a suit. She cursed herself mentally, making Chris look up.

He stifled a laugh. She went and sat in front of him.

"I'm so sorry I look like a single mother of two kids who hasn't slept in a year," she moaned, "I didn't know you were gonna show up in a suit." She facepalmed for good measure. "It's quite alright, you look beautiful. I wouldn't have you any other way, I should say. I'm coming back from a party right now, therefore the suit."

She blushed softly at his compliment. He ordered two coffees for them and they started talking. "So, how's your job at Ralph Lauren?" Chris asked, smiling at her. "It's amazing, I got promoted. Now I'm the head of the department, with my own office and all," she told him, smiling back. "That's great! Oh, congratulations, honey," he grinned.

"Thanks," she muttered, blushing slightly when he called her a nickname. "You look cute while blushing, has anyone ever told you that?" Chris winked as their coffees arrived. "No one, ever. I don't interact with people much, it's a tedious job," she half-joked, smiling.

"Really! So who are the people you talk to?" he joined in. "Well, there's my assistant, my mother, my bro and you. That's all. I've got some friends, but I rarely talk to them, only on the phone while texting, that is," she shrugged. "Nice, nice," he nodded as they finished their coffees. "Allow me to drop you home," Chris offered, taking out a key which she found out was for his bike as they left the café.

"No it's alright, I'll go," she refused immediately. "Nonsense, you're practically my girlfriend! I'm going with ya," he shook his head. They looked like an odd couple; one wearing a suit while the other looked like she had just woken up. Surprisingly enough, the one who looked like she just woken up had the best fashion sense among them. "Hop on," Chris grinned.

She sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Both of them chatted for the 2 minutes that took them to get to Y/N's home. Once they reached her building, she got down from Chris's bike and turned to him.

"Thanks, Chris, this has been an amazing second date. Can't wait for the third," she told him with a smile. "Me too," he smiled back. A few seconds later, she turned to leave but Chris suddenly grabbed her hand, turning her around. "Wha—" She didn't get to finish her sentence as Chris pressed his lips to hers. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I just had to, sweetheart," he panted as they pulled away from each other, breathless. "Wow," she breathed out as Chris rested his forehead against hers. "So, um, see you on the third date, yeah?" Y/N giggled as they stepped away from one another, smiling. "I'll make it as quick as possible. Can't stay away from you, darling," he winked.

"How flattering," she winked back and turned to leave, purposely adding a sway to her hips knowing that he was watching. And fuck, was he watching. "Oh, the things you do to me, my dear Y/N."

"I heard that!"

"Good!"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #captain america #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

197 notes · View notes

stardust-kenobi · 3 years

Text

Stay

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for weeks now. He’d saved your life, inevitably creating a stronger bond between the two of you. One evening, Din opens up to you.

Warnings: just fluff (“no smut?” yes! I am just as surprised as you are), Din being starved of affection

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: In this fic, the child is not with him (don’t kill me). this has not been proofread yet, might be some grammatical errors.

I have requests sitting in my inbox and I’m so sorry for pushing them to the side right now but I got hella inspired to write for mando and could not wait. I’ll get to them soon I promise 💕

gif is not mine

He saved you.

Three weeks ago, he broke his metaphorical tough exterior shell and saved you from an impeding doom.

He didn’t have to, in fact it was probably easier for him to leave you there, but he placed himself in that same danger to rescue you.

You were standing there, suddenly surrounded by troopers, some with artillery questionably beyond his defense capabilities. Mando had escaped, he was fleeing successfully, but he returned when he realized you weren’t with him anymore.

Never had you seen a human being destroy so many armed enemies so swiftly in the realization that he may lose you without even a single scratch upon your skin. Prior to this occurrence, you didn’t believe he cared about you at all. You were just temporarily valuable to him.

You joined him on his adventures after meeting him in the cantina on Sorgan, with the promise to present him with information on a bounty if he provided you shelter from people who wanted to harm you. You told him it was complicated, and you couldn’t go into detail about the situation. He was reluctant, and even told you no initially. You weren’t sure if it was the motive to collect the bounty money or his secretly warm heart that changed his mind, but you were thankful nonetheless.

After your rescue, you gave him the information he sought, he captured his target and gathered his reward, but still, three weeks later, you remain a passenger of the Razor Crest, and he hasn’t insisted that you leave him.

After it happened, there was a lot of silence between you two. Gradually, though, he spoke to you more. To your surprise, he initiated most of the conversations. He wanted to know about you. Unfortunately, your past created a wall, a barrier, between you and anyone who tried to get too close. You bonded with him slowly, and you were appreciative of his company. Against your strong intentions, you were starting to have romantic feelings for him. Feelings you had tried to ignore for the sake of having your heart inevitably broken in time. Feelings for a man you’d never even truly seen with your own eyes. Somehow, though, the mysterious nature of the Mandalorian was all the more interesting to you.

He was lonely, living in the vast galaxy all alone. No matter someone’s lifestyle, surely that becomes hard after some time. You wonder if his loneliness drove him toward you. He was kind, that much was obvious, but even with his warmth, he seemed to block himself off from you as well. You’d call him a friend, or an acquaintance at the very least. The new feeling of being able to trust him with your life added a thick layer of depth to your friendship.

Tonight, both of you were rested opposite to each other around a crackling fire located in the distant forests of the lusciously green moon of Endor. The air was thin, and a slight breeze sent chills down your exposed arms every now and then. Mando wanted to stop here as peaceful place to rest for the night rather than sleeping on the Crest again. A change of scenery is certainly nice, you thought.

“Its quieter here than I imagined” you break the silence.

“Wasn’t always quiet here” he mumbles, looking up at the stars beginning to peak into the evening sky.

“That is true...” you agree, remembering the events that took place here only a few short years ago in the days of the Empire.

Mando brewed some tea on the fire. You’d both grown to enjoy the soothing heat of the tea before you went to sleep.

“Do you want some?” he called out to you, pouring a cup for himself in the process.

“Yes, please”

You walked over to him, the fire warming the skin on your arms as you passed it. You attempt to look him in the eyes, only to be met with the reflection of the small flames staring back in the shine of his helmet. You smile softly, still aware that he could see into your eyes.

“Thank you” you nodded to him, accepting the mug from his gloved hands. As you move to return to your seat across the fire, a leather encased hand wrapped around the small of your wrist and pulled lightly toward him.

“Stay, please” he gently pleads. You were surprised, he’d never been so forward before.

“Okay” you responded, turning back toward him.

“I need....someone” he released his hold, spilling his words out uncomfortably.

“I’ll stay here, I don’t mind” you comfort him, noticing in his tone and shifting body language how shy he was becoming. You sat next to him, your knee barely brushing against his.

“Thank you” he spoke quietly, dropping his head.

“Are you okay, Din?” You asked, uttering his name out loud to him for the first time since he’d told you his real name. He looked toward you again, likely warmed and charmed by hearing you address him correctly.

“Yes. I’m okay. I’m just..” he started. It was obvious he was struggling with his words.

“Lonely?” You filled in his sentence for him. He audibly exhaled, indicating that you hit the nail on the head with your assumption.

“I guess you could say that” he mumbled.

“Din, I’m always with you” you consoled him.

“I know. Sometimes I just need more than that” he said sadly. You knew he didn’t mean sexually. You knew he wasn’t implying that he wanted you to give him anything.

“I know what you mean” you admitted.

“You do?” his tone was hopeful.

“Yeah...sometimes you just need the touch of another human being” you said, moving your hips- toward him. You were as close to his body as you could be.

“Sure” he agreed immediately, thankful that you formed the words for him.

“Have you always been alone, Din?”

“Not always, there were more of my kind that I was close to, years ago”

You dared not question what happened to those people as you were certain it would upset him.

“I thought, after what I’ve been through, that maybe I wanted to be alone” You began. “But, its growing old and I’m growing lonelier”

“You’ve probably wondered why I’ve let you stay with me this long”

“Everyday, I wonder why...every single day”

“You’ve grown on me, y/n” He said after moments of silence. “I care too much about you now to leave you in danger. I realize that may be overstepping some boundaries” he was gentle in his words. A smile was plastered onto your face. Never had the Mandalorian dug so deep into his feelings for you.

“I care about you, too” you reciprocated the gesture. He snapped his attention to you, certainly not expecting this from you either.

“Its not something I’m used to. Being cared about” he said, looking down to the forest floor again.

Your heart was shattered at the sound of his confession. This gentle giant was deprived of affection and was turning to you for comfort.

“You are just as deserving of love as any other being in this galaxy” you blurted suddenly. You realized the weight of your words, and you worried none for how he’d respond.

He was without words and you expected no response.

“That’s...that’s kind of you, y/n” he says. You could hear the blushing smile he possessed.

You planted your palm on top of his hand that rested upon his knee. You slowly, and hesitantly, leaned your head onto his shoulder. The beskar shoulder plates made it uncomfortable against your skull, but it was the best effort you could make in the moment. His body shifted, noticeably unaware of how to react to you.

“I know we are still getting to know each other, but, I’m here for you” you said.

Din was silent. But after a deep breath, his hand pulled itself away. You were worried you’d made him uncomfortable, but it was quite the contrary. His other gloved hand gripped the tip of the middle finger and pulled the thick covering from his hand. For the first time since you’d met this man, you were seeing his bare skin. Internally, you gasped, but you were inaudible to him in response.

As your palm lay flat on his lower thigh, you watch him lower his newly exposed hand move to lay atop of yours. The warmth collected on the surface of his skin from being encased in the glove immediately transferred heat your frigidly chilled hand.

“You’re so cold” he sweetly states the obvious.

“I’m okay”

“You need to get warm” he says, wrapping his fingers around your hand and squeezing lightly. Your heart fluttered.

“I feel warmer sitting next to you” you reassured him. This was true, as the heat from the fire stored itself in his armor at a quicker rate than that of your skin.

“You can get closer, if you want”

You did just that, and removed what little space remained between you and him. You looked up at him, wishing so badly that you’d be able to kiss him. You knew the impossibility of doing so.

“Your cheeks are red” Din said with concern. He released your hand and slowly raised it to meet your cold cheek. There was not only another transfer of warmth from his skin to yours, there was a spark of electricity that felt so deeply intimate. You leaned your face into his hold, and closed your eyes with the feeling of affection he offered.

You opened your eyes again, to see him intently staring, or so it seemed. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, encouraging him to continue his touch against you.

“I wish I could be even closer to you” you muttered. Speaking partially against his palm. You respected his culture but wanted nothing more than to really feel him.

“Can I trust you?” He spoke at a whisper. Your mind wandered. What could he mean?

“Of course. You’ve saved my life. The least I could be is trustworthy to you”

“Can I kiss you?” He inquired. Your heart began to beat rapidly in eager anticipation.

“How would y-” you began, knowing it wasn’t allowed for you to see his face.. He already knew the end of your sentence.

“Close your eyes, cyar’ika” he said sweetly. You didn’t know what that word meant, but with his tone, you assumed it meant something kind. “As long as you don’t see me, it’s okay”

You did as he asked, nonverbally giving him permission to kiss you. You heard the beskar unlatch and be lifted from his head. You breathed in sharply and slowly released your lung’s capacity.

“Keep them closed” his voice, now not muffled by his helmet, was such a wonderful sound. It graced your ears so raw, and so close to you. You’d always imagined what he sounded like without the thickness of his helmet blocking his mouth, but actually hearing it was breathtaking to you.

His hand returned to your face to cup your cheek. You felt him move closer to you without saying a word.

Suddenly, his lips delicately crashed into yours, and you form your lips into him. Your mouths were fused and still for a few moments, just taking each other in. You were able to finally smell him. He gave off an aroma of cedar that mimicked the scents of the luscious forest trees mixed with a deep masculine scent. You absorbed the presence you could observe of him without the sense of sight.

His lips were surprisingly soft and supple as they pressed into yours. He was gentle, and by the sharp breath he took, it was obvious he had not kissed anyone in a long time. If ever. You were both enthralled in one another’s affection. Neither of you expected this contact when you first sat around the fire. Slowly, you both rotated your lips in sync together, as if you’d both rehearsed it.

After what felt like a lifetime of connection to Din, you both made the decision to pull away. He breathed out in a giggle. The type that you hear when someone is overwhelmed with passion. Your eyes remained closed until he couldn’t put his helmet back in.

As you hear it latch back, you still wait for his confirmation.

“You can open your eyes now”

And he looked the same as he did the last time your eyelids were open. You tried to wipe the uncontrollable smile off of your face, but that effort alone made it more noticeable.

“Thank you for trusting me” you broke the silence. He grabbed your hand again, and lightly squeezed as he did before.

“Y/n” he called to you.

You looked to him.

“I don’t want to be lonely anymore” he said plainly.

“You don’t have to be, Din” you promised him.

“That’s why I never asked you to leave” he started “You make me feel whole...I don’t know how else to say it” he spilled out. It was clear that he was hesitant to say these things and be so forward, but it also seemed to be a relief to him.

“I’d love to stay with you. Wherever you go, I’ll go. I’ll stay until you decide you don’t want me around anymore” you said. You were both speaking at a whisper, despite being alone in the forest.

“That won’t happen” he assured you. “I can’t let you go now”

You smiled ear to ear. Your heart was full in the intimacy of your conversation. You couldn’t wait for the endless travels and adventures that the two of you would have to come.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din x reader #mando #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #my work #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x y/n #mando x you

696 notes · View notes

darthkruge · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could you do an Anakin x reader where the reader is jealous of Padmé so goes on a walk through the night, and leaves a little trinket of hers so Ani doesn’t worry. She runs into a bounty hunter and Ani senses her danger through the force and saves her? Thanks 🥰

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Jealousy and Rescues

Summary: Jedi!Reader gets themself in some trouble after going on a walk during the night and Anakin comes to their aid

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, torture (knives), blood, kidnapping, ends w/ fluff I promise

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Yess!! I loved writing this so much and I’m sorry it took me longer than I expected to get out. I think I went a bit angstier than your request implied but that’s where my brain was at today slfksjd! I am also rushing to post this so if there are some grammatical errors whoops

gif credit

After a few threats to the Senate, your boyfriend was assigned as Padme’s bodyguard. You knew, rationally, their relationship was strictly professional. He’d never be disloyal towards you and you did trust him. There was nothing for you to worry about. Or, at least, that’s what you repeatedly told yourself as you saw them walking and laughing together.

Being in a secret relationship is difficult, you wouldn’t deny. Especially when your boyfriend was one of the most attractive and charming men in the entire galaxy. You would see people flirt with him constantly and there was nothing you could do without jeopardizing both of your careers as Jedi.

You played with the necklace he had given you when you spent your first Life Day together all those years ago. Your home planet on one side, Coruscant on the other, symbolizing your past and your future -- your future with Anakin. It always calmed you; it was something you could hold and feel in public, a reminder of the realness of your hidden romance.

You let out a sigh, dropping the pendant as you tried to shake off the unease you felt as you watched them interact. It mostly worked, too. When you remembered all Anakin had done for you, the intense moments of happiness and love you’d shared, you never felt more secure. But for some reason, as you saw Anakin lean down so Padme could whisper something in his ear, that anxious and guilty warmth ran through your veins.

You hated feeling jealous. It didn’t matter that you logically knew you had nothing to fear, the emotion remained. It embarrassed you, making you feel childish and small. It made you want to crawl out of your skin and hide away, yet simultaneously run up to Anakin and beg him for reassurance. It made you hate Padme, a woman so kind you cursed yourself for feeling that way. It made your mind run wild, conconting torturous scenarios that made your insecurities flair.

Even though it brought you pain to watch, you had to expend great energy to tear your eyes away from them. You returned to your apartment, waiting for Anakin’s shift to be over. All you wanted was some time alone with him, to hear him tell you how much he loved you, to feel his arms around you and lips against yours. To hear him gently laugh as he picks up on your jealousy and mumble reassurances into your ear. You awaited his beautiful words that would evidently overtake your thoughts and leave you feeling secure and peaceful.

Letting your brain run for a while, you felt yourself unconsciously picking at your fingernails and playing with your hair, doing anything to keep yourself busy. You jumped as C3PO entered your room, too lost in thought to register anyone’s presence.

“I apologize Master L/N, but Master Skywalker instructed me to inform you that he will be working late this evening.”

You felt your heart start to pound as your eyes grew heavy with tears. “Threepio, what do you mean? Did he tell you why?”

“Senator Padme has to go to a special dinner this evening to meet with the leaders of some other planets and he must accompany her.”

“Oh.”

C3PO walked closer to you. “Are you alright, Master L/N? Should I call for Master Anakin?”

You shook your head, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m fine, thank you.” You said, trying to keep your voice as even and happy as you possibly could.

The droid exited your apartment as you walked onto the balcony, the cold air hitting your cheeks and quelling the hot embarrassment that flowed through you. There is nothing to worry about, you rationalized. These dinners are formalities, Padme goes to them all the time! And Anakin is just her bodyguard, he would never cheat on you!

Even as you thought the words, you felt frustratingly unconvinced. You decided to go for a walk, the silence in the apartment that your boyfriend was supposed to be back at driving you mad. Even so, you didn’t want him to worry on the off chance he returned home before you. Sighing, you slid the necklace off and placed it on the nightstand, quickly scribbling a note that read “on a walk, be home soon.”

You pulled your Jedi robes closer around you as you walked the Coruscant streets. You had no particular destination in mind, nor did you know how long you intended to be gone for. You let your body drive you, walking around as if in a haze while using all your energy to expel the thoughts from your mind. You made random turns, walking in various directions until you felt yourself calm.

You looked up and to your left and smiled as you saw your apartment. Anakin. You smiled to yourself and shook your head at your foolishness. You didn’t know why you’d gotten so worked up over his and Padme’s relationship; at the end of the day, he would always return home.

Perhaps this was why you weren’t paying attention. Or maybe it was the way you were focussed on Anakin’s force signature, honing in on him and letting the rest of the world fade away. It could have been your exhaustion, emotionally drained for the day. Whatever the reason, you were unprepared when a dark figure jumped out of the shadows and stunned you. All you knew was that one minute you were on your way home to him and the next you were surrounded by darkness as the ground quickly caught up to you.

Anakin rushed out of dinner, feeling quite guilty for leaving you alone all day. He hated working late, especially during the few times you and him were both on Coruscant. Frequently, your missions kept you apart and, thus, the days where you were home together were sacred. He reached out to you, surprised to not feel your force signature in the apartment.

He opened the door and was met with a darkness and stillness that immediately set him off. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it just yet. He looked around and came upon your note and necklace and relief flowed through him. However, he couldn’t shake the sense that something was off. The words in your note felt clipped and cold and he knew you must not have been happy to hear he was running late.

He walked to the balcony, trying to see you but quickly realizing the futility of the plan. He paced in the apartment, reaching out farther with the Force. Although he hadn’t completely found you, Anakin’s blood ran cold as he sensed with overwhelming clarity that you were in danger. You wouldn’t have lied to him about your whereabouts so he knew you were on foot and, thus, couldn’t have gone too far. All he hoped was that he found you quickly and wasn't too late.

You groaned, already knowing what had happened. The Council already briefed the Jedi that there was an uptick in bounty hunters throughout the galaxy, specifically those targeting the Jedi order. You couldn’t believe you were stupid enough to walk around, unnattentive, through alleyways, at night. The bounty hunter came into your cell and pulled off her mask. Her features were sharp, her face hardened. You looked into her eyes and were met with a predatory gaze.

“What are you going to do with me?” You almost didn’t want her to answer.

The woman simply laughed. “Kill you, of course. But why not have a little fun first? I bet you’d look so nice begging for mercy.”

“I’ll die before I beg for anything from you.” You spat.

“I’m sure I can accommodate both of those things, sweetheart.” With that, she grabbed a knife and plunged it into your foot, anchoring it to the floor.

You bit your lip, tasting blood as you tried not to scream. You clenched your fists, your hands shackled above your head. Your foot felt hot, the crimson blood running down its sides. Just as the pain began to numb, the woman pulled out another blade and slowly cut the bottom of your other foot.

You screwed your eyes shut, desperately trying not to give in. She laughed at your feeble attempts before bringing the knife down. The force she used pierced through both muscle and bone and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out an involuntary cry.

Your brain was a muddled mess, tears leaking down your face as you willed your pained whimpers to die in your throat. She cut through your pants and into your thighs. With each line she carved, you felt more and more helpless. She made her incisions deep and languidly, as if pulling every ounce of blood from your body. You tried to squirm away from the blade but the twisting movements made the knives dig even deeper into your feet.

You tried to reach for Anakin, for some reminder that there was peace waiting for you if you could only hold out through this. You faintly felt his force signature. He’s still out there. He’ll come for me, I know he will.

“Ready to beg yet, Jedi?” She cooed, the tip of her knife under your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes.

Your gaze hardened as you thought of him. She would never take you from him, nothing could tear you and Anakin apart. Your determination remained. She’s not going to break me.

“Never.” Even as the tears ran down your cheeks, even as you felt your grip on the world weakening, you’d never meant a word more than that.

“We’ll see about that.”

You cried out as her knife cut across your cheek. The sharp sting from the newer and shallower cuts combined with the throbbing ache in your legs and feet. The sensation and blood loss made you dizzy. Even so, you forced yourself to remain conscious. You’d get through this, you had to.

Anakin drove his speeder through Coruscant, following a combination of his instincts and the Force to track you down. Every minute, he felt your fear and pain intensify through your Force bond and he grew more and more desperate. By now, he knew you must have been taken by a bounty hunter, there was no other explanation. However, he was occasionally met with a spark of determination and defiance.

He smiled. Whoever had you might be causing you pain, but you definitely weren’t an easy capture. Pride filled him as he thought of your strength. You’d get through this, you had to. Hang on, Y/N, just a little while longer.

The bounty hunter had left the room a few minutes ago, probably frustrated of waiting for you to give in. She’d moved onto cutting through your shirt, your stomach and chest now littered with deep, red, lines. It hurt to breathe, every movement tugging at one of the gashes and causing more blood to ooze out. You were honestly surprised there was still blood left in you to give, as your head felt light and body heavy.

You were so weak, so dizzy that you couldn’t support your own weight anymore, even sitting down. Your head hung down, lolling unimpressively as your neck refused to cooperate. Your mind was swimming and you were delirious, half-convinced you were already dead.

“Y/N!”

You used all your energy to lift your head, meeting a pair of beautiful blue eyes that you would recognize anywhere.

“Anakin,” You breathed out. “Anakin please, help me.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” He knelt down beside you and you looked at him, immeasurable relief coursing through you.

He put his hand gently to your cheek, careful to avoid your cuts. “Hold on, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

“Hold on.” The whisper of Anakin’s voice remained in the air as his figure melted away. You screamed in agony, despair clutching at your soul. You desperately looked around, willing the hallucination back to you. Even if it was a cruel trick your fatigued, weak, blood-loss ridden mind created, you wanted him back.

“Please, Anakin, please come back to me!” You cried. You sobbed, the pain of losing him in any form impossible for you to bear.

You begged and begged and begged, trying to will him back to you. You screamed and thrashed until your hands wore raw against your restraints, until your cuts had reopened, until your throat was sore and your eyes burned from crying.

You whimpered out one final plea before your eyes fluttered shut, the fight completely drained from your soul.

Anakin’s heart pounded. He could feel you slipping away, your determination slowly fizzing out. He couldn’t blame you; these bounty hunters were notorious for their torture, for leaving their victims as broken shells before they were killed. He forced the image out of his mind, refusing to think of you in that position.

Finally, he made it to an abandoned building on the edge of Coruscant. The Force had guided him here and he felt you strongly, or as strongly as he could given your broken state. He jumped out of the speeder and saw a woman twirling a knife, leaning against a wall.

Igniting the lightsaber, he walked up to her.

“Anakin, I presume?”

He froze but quickly regained his composure, eyeing her and trying to figure out what her motives were.

“Don’t fret, young Jedi. They were just calling for you. Quite pathetic if you ask me.”

“If you hurt them I swear-”

The bounty hunter’s lips curled into a bone chilling smile, giving Anakin all the answers he needed. He swung his lightsaber, deflecting her blaster shots with ease. She pulled out two knives and threw one at his middle, making Anakin jump to the side to escape the blade.

Anakin twirled the saber, once again trying to get traction. She was quick, swinging herself up onto the room of the building by flipping backwards from the balcony. He, however, was quicker. Anakin jumped up gracefully, continuing to spin his weapon and stalk her in this intense, choreographed dance they were engaged in.

The woman sent her other knife flying at Anakin’s neck and he used his trained reflexes to catch the hilt right before it cut through his skin. Now, it was his turn to smile. He watched as her expression faltered, paying attention to her footing to sense her next move. He followed her, catching up quickly before running the blade through her, barely waiting for her body to drop before bounding off the roof and into the building to find you.

His breath caught as he took you in. Your unconscious body was limp and blood was seeping out of you. He grimaced, seeing the blades running through your feet. As much as he didn’t want you to lose more blood, he needed to remove the knives in order to carry you out of here. Your flesh squelched as he pulled the blade out as evenly as he could and a low whimper escaped your throat.

“Y/N, Y/N can you hear me?”

“No, no, no, no, no, please, not again!”

“Angel it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Anakin said, moving to meet your eyes.

“You’re not- this isn’t- no!” You tried to pull yourself away from him, unable to watch this hallucination falter.

“Y/N, please, let me help you. I need to get you out of here before you lose any more blood.”

“This isn’t real!” You screamed. “Please, stop, this isn’t real! You’re not here, you’re not here, you’re gone, I’m gone, it’s not-” You continued to spew unintelligible words, tears already bubbling up in your throat.

Anakin caught on to what was happening. “Angel, look at me. I promise I’m here. I’m real, okay? Please believe me.”

“I can’t!” You sobbed. “I can’t let myself hope again!”

“Y/N, okay, okay. Remember that necklace I gave you? It had your home on one side and ours on the other. You left it for me, a token to prove that you were safe when you went for a walk. I think you were angry with me; I was working late because I was guarding Padme, remember? It’s me, I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Despite yourself, you believed him. “Ani.” You said softly, tears coming to your eyes as you allowed yourself to have faith that you would be alright.

“Yes, my love, it’s Anakin. I need you to be still for me, okay? It’s going to hurt but I need to get us home.”

You nodded, cries escaping you as he pulled the second knife from your foot. Your vision went white, the pain profound. Anakin gently hushed you, hand smoothing down your thigh to comfort you as he worked. He went to your restraints next, releasing your hands and watching as they fell heavily. He caught your body as it wrenched forward, making you gasp as the cuts on your chest came in contact with him.

Anakin apologized quickly, pulling off his robe and wrapping it around your body, your cut clothing offering almost no protection from the cold, nighttime air. He also wanted to help you as your body was clearly going into shock from the trauma.

Anakin placed you in his lap, holding you to him with one hand and driving with the other. For anyone less talented at riding a speeder it would have been precarious. You weakly wrapped your arms around him, too, as best as you could.

You were in and out of consciousness the whole way back, barely registering how Anakin pulled you up and into his arms, the sway of his walking faster and more desperate than usual. He went into medbay, placing you gingerly on a bed and calling over a medical droid to determine the extent of your injuries.

Noting how empty it was, Anakin took the risk and held your hand. He knew it was dangerous, the fear of getting caught weighing constantly on both your minds. But after he almost lost you, nothing else mattered.

The droids informed him that you had lost a severe amount of blood, but the cuts themself should heal with time. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized you would be fine. Anakin begged them to let him take you back to your room, saying that the trauma from the torture would only grow worse if you woke up in an unknown environment.

They allowed, so long as he made sure you were supervised and rested for at least the next week. He agreed hurriedly before scooping you back up. You groaned at the movement and he whispered a quick apology, trying to get you into your bed as soon as possible.

He set you down, resting your back against the pillows just as you liked. You were all bandaged up and looked so fragile in your current state, a far cry from what he was used to. He hated it. You were such a skilled Jedi, he sometimes forgot that you were vulnerable, too, and this reality check was immensely painful.

He watched over you as you slept, refusing to move for hours. Finally, your eyes opened and you looked at him blearily.

“Hi.” You croaked out.

Anakin’s eyes snapped up to yours, gently laughing from the relief of hearing your voice and its gravelly tone. He floated the cup of water by your nightstand to your mouth while using his other hand to brace your neck, coaxing you into a sitting position so you could easily swallow the liquid.

You hummed your thanks as he slowly set you against the pillows.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, I should have told the Council I couldn’t do the extra meeting and just come home.”

“No, Anakin, it was your job, I shouldn’t have been upset. I was just jealous, I guess. I saw you and Padme together and,” You trailed off. It felt so unbelievably stupid now. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have been so careless.”

Anakin’s eyes were understanding. “It’s okay, my love. But you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The only reason I was with Padme for dinner was because the Council assigned me to. No one could make me willingly skip dinner or anything else with you.”

“I know” You said sheepishly.

“I love you, angel. No one even comes close. I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

“I love you too, Ani.”

He carefully connected his lips with yours, hyper aware of your injuries and not wanting to cause you any more pain than you’ve already been through.

“Lie with me?”

Anakin nods as you scoot over. He climbs into bed and allows you to situate yourself. You eventually find a position that doesn’t put strain on your cuts and bruises and you smile, leaning your head against his chest. He gingerly puts his flesh hand around your back, looking at you to see if it’s okay. You nod reassuringly and Anakin lets his arm rest there, fingers gently running through your hair.

“I was so scared, Anakin. I thought I’d never see you again.” You say, breaking the silence.

He looks at you, silently encouraging you to go on, if you so wanted.

“I hallucinated you, you know? I thought you’d come for me. But you told me to hold on and then you disappeared.” Your voice was barely a whisper at the end, tears leaking onto his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” Those words were all he could give. He spoke them with such meaning and love that you melted. None of this was his fault.

“I love you.” You replied, your words carrying the same intensity as his.

Anakin brought his metal arm around, too, to further hold you to him.

“You’re never going to lose me, okay? I will always come for you, I will always protect you. With everything I am, I will always love you.”

“I know.” Your voice was loving and soft, exhaustion once again pulling at you.

He kissed the top of your head. “Get some sleep, Y/N. You’ll need a lot of it.”

“Hmm?” You questioned tiredly

“They assigned you to at least a week of complete rest.”

“What?!”

“Shhhh, go to sleep, angel.” Anakin chuckled.

You huffed but nuzzled closer to him. You were too drained to fight it and too happy to finally be back in his arms. Nothing could ruin the moment.

----

if you would like to join my taglist, the link to do so is on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed off, that’s because for some reason i couldn’t tag you. <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @ungodiys @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker @artiza-n

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #anakin x gn!reader #anakin x gender neutral reader #anakin whump #anakin fluff #anakin angst #request

557 notes · View notes

sunshineseguin · 3 years

Text

take me back to the night we met || mat barzal

pairing: mathew barzal x fem!reader

summary: months after the end of your relationship, mathew still struggles to come to terms with losing you. he sees you everywhere and in everything he does. what sticks with him the most is the night you met.

warnings: break-up angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety & a near panic attack, swearing, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), possible grammatical errors, flashbacks are in italics!!

word count: 6,371

author’s note: i wrote this fic inspired by the song ‘the night we met’ by lord huron so i definitely recommend listening while reading! i wrote this fic as a standalone and don’t plan on writing a second part. feedback is always appreciated, i read everything even if you put it in the tags.

check out my players list & prompt list if you’d like!

Mathew knew it wasn’t a good idea to go out, especially on a Sunday night with an early practice in the morning. The season was about to start and he knew he had every reason to be just as amped up about it as his teammates. He should be cheering with them and drinking beers carelessly like he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Yet, he couldn’t. The regret that he was already carrying on his shoulders was enough to last him a lifetime. Instead, he was gulping down whiskey on the rocks like it was water and he was stranded in the Sahara Desert, wallowing in his own self pity as he had been for months.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and glanced up at Anthony who gave it a squeeze. The blonde smiled, but it was one of sympathy, his bright blue eyes swimming with concern for his best friend. Mathew almost scoffs.

“How ya doin’, man?” Anthony asks and glances towards Anders who’s watching them both closely.

The raven haired male simply shrugged half heartedly in response. He knew his captain was worried about him, the whole team was for that matter. He hadn’t been right for a while and nearly closed himself off completely. He didn’t join in on the playful chirps at morning skate or reply to Anthony’s invites of golf with the boys. He didn’t go to the team cookouts. He barely mustered a reply when Trotz was ripping into him for being so unfocused. The guys were starting to realize they only ever saw him on the ice or drowning himself in the hard stuff at the bar. He was a walking shell of the man he had been a year ago.

“What happened, Barzy?” Anthony sighed, moving to stand in front of his friend so that he could meet his eyes. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Mathew saw a notification pop up on his phone that his Uber was approaching, giving himself the perfect opportunity to get out of his best friend’s inevitable interrogation. He knew the team was only going to let this go on for so much longer before sitting him down and making him talk about his feelings. He was already dreading all of the things Anders had to say but hadn’t yet. He tossed back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, not even feeling it burn its way down his throat with the amount he’d already consumed that night. He stood from his stool, a bit unsteady on his feet as he pats Anthony on the shoulder leaves him with few words before heading out.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me.”

The bar was definitely over what capacity should allow that night. The bar was swarmed as people shouted their drink orders at the poor bartenders who were scurrying around like mice. Patrons were spilling out onto the dance floor, packed in like sardines to the point that you could hardly move. You pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering worthless apologies to people who weren’t even listening as you desperately searched for your friends. You’d lost them over twenty minutes ago and had lost all hope in finding them.

You were starting to feel claustrophobic amidst the sweaty bodies pressed against you, chest growing tight the longer you spent in the crowd. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on you as your head grew fuzzy. The Long Island Iced Teas you’d been consuming since you got there three hours ago certainly didn’t help. You forced your way through the crowd and to the exit of the bar, shoving people who wouldn’t move as you tried to get air into your lungs.

You stumbled out of the doors to the bar, ignoring the odd looks people heading inside sent you. Your knees felt weak as you braced yourself against the wall. Hand shaking, you pressed it to your chest to feel that your heart was rapidly pounding away. You closed your eyes and did all you could to focus on your breathing and get yourself to calm down. You hadn’t had a panic attack in some time, sophomore year of college the last you could recall, having learned what triggered them and how to keep the panic from overcoming you.

Mathew was standing farther down, away from the never ending flow of people coming and going from the bar’s entrance. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out at the street with a scowl. He and Anthony were supposed to be leaving together, walking back to their shared apartment building a few blocks away. The blonde male had been busy when Mat stepped out, chatting away with some pretty redhead who’d caught his eye early in the night. He was about ready to make the walk by himself if his friend didn’t show himself in the next five minutes.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye, alone and trembling without so much as a jacket. He looked around to see if anyone you might know was near, but no one was paying you any mind. He was overcome with a sense of worry as he stared at you, not knowing if some sleazebag slipped something in your drink or if you had some kind of medical condition. He found himself moving closer to you and asking, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” you stated breathlessly, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “I just need a second.”

You stood there for another moment until you had yourself composed, finally standing up straight when it didn’t feel like your knees would give out anymore. You weren’t expecting to open your eyes and find the person attached to the voice that just spoke to you still standing there. His hazel eyes were filled with worry as they flickered over your frame. You were too busy gawking to notice his genuine concern.

“Did something happen in there? Do you need me to call someone?” the handsome stranger asked, his gaze finally settling on yours.

“N-No,” you stuttered sheepishly, clearing your throat and blinking quickly as if that would make the nervousness go away. “It’s lame, actually, I lost my friends and… The crowd was a bit much.”

Mathew’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he knew something traumatic hadn’t happened and a laugh passed through his lips. He offered you a smile and replied, “Yeah, that is kind of lame.”

You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes, feeling your face heat up slightly. He laughed again and shook his head a bit, saying, “I kid, I kid. This place does get pretty rowdy on the weekends.”

“Not to be completely cheesy but, I take it you come here often?” you asked with a smile, wrapping your arms around your middle as the cool New York air started to seep into your skin. The adrenaline from your near panic attack had kept you from realizing how cold it was out and you’d left your jacket inside at your table. Hopefully one of your friends would grab it despite the drunken escapades they were partaking in.

“Pretty often, yeah,” Mathew grinned at the question. He was sure you hadn’t intended to use it as a pickup line, yet he found himself hoping there was genuine interest laced behind your words.

He shrugged off his black bomber jacket when he noticed you shivering and held it out to you. As you opened your mouth to protest, the look on his face told you that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you took the item from his hands and slipped in on with a gracious ‘thank you’ once you were swallowed in its warmth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Mat,” he replied while shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

It was silent for a moment between you, neither knowing exactly what to say. Mathew didn’t know if you were intending to head back inside and enjoy your night. While he was more than ready to go home ten minutes ago, he was now enamored by you, and wanted to do anything to stay in your presence. Usually, he was quick witted and able to charm a girl with a few simple words. In front of you he was drawing a blank, afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you off.

Seeing you shyly toy with the ends of his sleeve, a nervous smile curling on your lips as you looked at his feet had a surge of confidence flowing through him. He offered, “Would you want to grab a coffee? I know a place that makes the best homemade crepes.”

The memory hit Mathew like a freight train as he stepped out of the doors of the bar. He was left staring at the wall, at the very spot he spoke to you for the first time. He couldn’t feel the dull ache in his chest, having numbed himself with whiskey that was far too expensive. He turned to walk down to the street to wait for his Uber, but stopped short as he caught a glimpse of a woman walking by.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared after her. It was as if time slowed down, everything moving in slow motion but her. Everything was as he remembered from that night. The way her hair was styled, the dress that stopped halfway down her thighs, the heels that echoed in his head with each step she took. What shook him to his core the most was the jacket sported on her shoulders. From the night he first gave it to her, she would always steal it, claiming it looked better with most of her outfits than his own. He never argued, because he agreed, and he would never turn down a chance to see her in his clothes. It was you — unmistakably you.

Mathew’s feet started moving on their own accord behind you. It was like you were running away, until he realized it was him who was moving in slow motion with the people around him. The streets were bustling with people of all likes, experiencing the enticing New York nightlife. He was weaving through the crowd, calling out your name, desperate, broken and begging you to put back together the pieces of his broken heart.

You kept walking and Mathew was trying his hardest to catch up, but was like with each step he took his feet were growing heavier and heavier. He let out a strangled, frustrated cry as he yelled out your name once more. Suddenly, he was knocked to the side, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling into the street. He turned to look at the man who just rammed into him carelessly.

“Watch where you’re going, you prick!” he shouted after the man who paid him no mind, receiving a few dirty looks from others.

It was then that he realized everyone was moving in real time again. His breath hitched in his throat as he spun to search for you in the crowd. You were gone. Deep down, he knew you had never been there in the first place. His mind was playing another dirty little trick on him, as it did so often the last few months. His guilty subconscious tormented him with images of you, making him watch you slip away time and time again. The hollow feeling deep within him only grew with every hallucination.

He turned his attention to the building he’d found himself in front of, and if the visions of you weren’t already torture enough, the universe had just thrown something else into the mix. Yet, he found himself making his way up to the door, the bell chiming above his head as he entered the quant diner. He takes a glance around, seeing an old couple at a table on one side of the building and a man by himself at the bartop, a laptop open and headphones in as he had a quiet conversation on what Mathew assumed was a Zoom or FaceTime call. He drops his head and walks to the familiar corner booth then slides into the seat and cancels his Uber.

A moment later, the waitress approaches the table. Mathew meets her eyes and embarrassment floods through him as he takes note of her sympathetic smile. He’s seen the smile a thousand times now from anyone who had an inkling of what he’d been going through.

“Coffee?” she asked softly, knowing the answer before he could even muster a nod.

You slide into the booth, sighing in content as the warmth from the building seeps into your bones. Mathew slides in across from you and the two of you share a shy smile as you meet eyes. Never before had he been so nervous to take a girl out. Maybe it was because you weren’t like the others. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him the first chance you got. You didn’t seem to know who he was or his status in the social hierarchy of the people in Long Island. It was refreshing and terrifying all at the same time.

You both look up as the waitress walks over with a bright smile on her face and asks what you’d like to drink. “Coffee,” the two of you say at the same time. Mathew’s face visibly turns a light shade of pink, and in turn you feel a rush of heat traveling up your own neck. The waitress smiles knowingly.

“Cream, please,” you add.

As the waitress turns to Mathew he says, “Black is fine.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both wait for the waitress to return with your drinks. Your eyes are floating around the diner, taking in some of the unique decor and 80’s flare with a modern twist. Mathew watches you closely and decides he quite likes the way your eyes shine under the glow of the baby blue neon lights. He takes it upon himself to start pointing out some of the historical decor in the building. It’s your turn to admire him and how his eyes light up when he talks about something he finds exceptionally appealing. His lips are curled into a smile as he spouts off facts to you about each item he points out.

He pauses his rant about people not appreciating The Beatles enough when he sees you grinning at him. He smiles sheepishly and diverts his gaze to the steam rising out of the coffee mug just placed in front of him, asking, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a small shrug, smile never leaving your face. You stirred a splash of cream into your own coffee and quizzed, “I take it as you come here often too?”

Mathew felt his ears grow hot but he still managed to muster up a confident smirk and lifted his eyes to meet yours, “I said best homemade crepes didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

“I usually end up here after a night at the bar and I need to sober up. People say coffee doesn’t work but it sure feels like it,” he explained, “Plus, they serve breakfast twenty four hours.”

The way your eyes lit up when Mathew said that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He listened as you went on a rant about how breakfast was underrated and you’d kill for pancakes for dinner over a steak most nights. From there, the conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly. You learned how the other liked their eggs cooked and what your drink of choice was. Your favorite colors and favorite scent of body wash. Being with Mathew made you feel as if you’d been sleeping all of these years and were just waking up. Never had you felt so drawn to someone in the way that you were to him, and him the same. Any other night, if he had met a girl in the fashion that he’d met you, he would have had you in and out of his apartment long ago. He wouldn’t be on his third coffee refill with a plate of perfectly cooked strawberry crepes in front of him.

Mathew learned that you hadn’t been in New York long. You’d moved about two months ago and had a fashion design internship with some fancy company he’d never heard of. You were looking to build your own empire in the business. With the way you exuded yourself now that you were comfortable with him and talked with so much passion about your dreams, he didn’t think you’d have any trouble. The drive you had to build a future for yourself wasn’t something he was used to hearing from the women he surrounded himself with.

The famous athlete, something you learned about him in between bites of food, was used to women throwing themselves at him and his teammates. Some of them were just looking to brag that they slept with an Islander, others had more devious intentions. They were after the money Mathew tried his hardest not to spend recklessly - the gifts he could potentially buy. Some wanted his last name, to be in with the WAGs and flaunt their relationship all over social media; to rub it in the face of others that she got what they so desperately wanted. It was part of the reason that he never exclusively dated, too afraid that there were ulterior motives behind sultry whispers and sly smirks.

The diner that had previously been significantly busy when the two of you got there had now cleared out completely. You and Mathew hadn’t realized how long you’d actually been there until you took note of the empty tables. Your waitress was standing in the corner against the wall, looking like she was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while she waited for you to leave. You and the Centerman had been so lost in each other that you hadn’t realized hours had passed and it was nearly two in the morning.

“I guess we should get out of here, huh?” you asked, hoping the gorgeous man in front of you picked up on the suggestive tone of your voice.

It didn’t seem like he did though with the way his shoulders slumped and he mumbled, “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As Mathew fished his wallet out, he felt you gaze burning into him. You weren’t ready for the night to end and you were hoping he was thinking the same. He looked up and locked eyes with you, holding the stare as you raised a singular eyebrow and a coy smile curled on your lips. Realization crossed the chiselled features of his face and he gave you a smirk before throwing down a good amount of cash on the table. He slid out of the booth and held his hand out to you, giving you a small bow as if you were royalty.

“M’lady?”

Mathew chokes on the very breath in his lungs, his eyes burning as he stared down at the cold, untouched mug of coffee in front of him. It’s no longer black, now a light chestnut color but the splash of cream he’d subconsciously added to it. He had picked that up from you because ‘only psychopaths drink black coffee, babe’. He switched back of course. This was the first time he let himself slip up and fall back into a habit that used to be so comfortable with you.

He swallows thickly and stuffs a generous amount of cash into the black checkbook, far more than what the coffee was worth. He pushes himself out of the booth and avoids the waitress’ eyes as she comes over to collect the payment. He can’t even muster a smile as he mumbles out a ‘thank you’ and exits the diner. Lori, the woman who always gave you the best service there, is left to sadly stare after him. She knows better than to ask what happened to the sweet girl who always used to accompany him.

Mathew walks a couple blocks down to his apartment building, trying not to remember how you’d clung to his arm. How your giggles echoed down the empty streets and your perfume swirled around him. When he closed his eyes he thought he could almost smell it, wondering if traces of you were lingering on the jacket hanging heavy on his shoulders. He still remembers how it felt to have your hands wrapped around his bicep and your hip bumping his as you walked pressed to his side. He enters his building and the feeling is gone as quickly as it came.

He walks into his dark apartment and thinks that it feels colder and colder every night that he comes home alone. He can’t help but take note of your missing pile of shoes by the door that he always used to chirp you for. He hangs his keys on the hook and his eyes linger on the empty spot beside it. He walks past the couch on the way to the bedroom and tries not to think about how bare it looks without the hoodies you used to steal from him littered about.

He strips into his boxers after brushing his teeth and climbs under the chilly sheets. He’s turned on his side, staring at the vacant spot beside him. He can see you there, messy hair splayed out around you and your face smiling back at him. He reaches out and grabs the pillow that used to be deemed yours, pulling it into his chest tightly. Your scent is long gone from the pillowcase, yet he still buries his nose into it and squeezes his eyes shut as if that will bring you back.

As he begins to drift off to sleep, his mind once again tortures him with visions of you. How you stumbled into his apartment the night you met as a mess of teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. You undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, clothes scattered across the floor. Your skin was hot against his as he laid you on his bed for the first time and worshiped every inch of your skin. He remembers your breathy moans in his ear as he filled you up and rocked into you, slow and deep. Your limbs were tangled as you came down from your highs, your head on his sticky chest as he ran his hand over the tangled hair on your head.

He remembers whispering, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” and you replying, “You’re something special, Mathew Barzal.” The two of you fell asleep like that, with Mathew thinking he could spend forever with you wrapped in his arms.

Mathew awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a weight sitting heavy in his chest. He’s still clutching his pillow as he turns over and looks for you instinctively. When he’s once again faced with the empty space beside him, his heart drops. He flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. It’s the same everyday that he wakes up, replaying the day everything changed like a broken record in his head.

Your whirlwind romance with Mathew happened unexpectedly. While the two of you did click instantly, you certainly weren’t expecting it to be so serious so fast. He was a famous hockey player who was on the road most of the year. You thought, at most, you would be someone he called when he was home in New York because you were convenient. Instead, you got the fancy dinner dates and spontaneous trips to Philly when he played the Flyers. You got a bouquet of flowers at your door when he was off on a roadie. You got to meet Anthony and enjoy quiet nights in just drinking beers and mocking shitty reality TV. You had moved into his apartment almost completely after only four months without either of you really realizing — yet neither of you stopped it.

The relationship you had with Mathew was unique. It was something people dreamed of and hoped to find. You were Twin Flames; two halves of one soul that united. You fell for each other so hard and so fast it made you dizzy. Before you knew it, a year had passed. You’d completed your internship and your boyfriend was a rising star. You had built a strong foundation in New York and it was potentially where you could put down your roots and live out the rest of your life, yet you had bigger dreams and plans for yourself. Something you hadn’t been completely honest with Mathew about.

You were scared. Scared of the unknown complications and challenges you could face. The two of you had moved so fast you were having trouble differentiating between fantasy and reality — if this is really what you wanted. What if you settled down in New York and Mathew was traded to a different team across the country? What if he decided he didn’t want you anymore in a few weeks time, leaving you high and dry? What if you didn’t really love him and you were just convincing yourself that you did? These questions had been plaguing you for weeks, especially when he was away, and it was becoming too much. So you did the cowardly thing and you ran from it.

It was nearing the Stanley Cup playoffs and the Islanders were well on their way to securing a spot, so most of Mathew’s focus had been on hockey. It never bothered you because it was his career. It’s what he did for a living and what he loved, so how could you fault him for that? The roadies seemed to fall closer together and last a little longer. Mathew now knows that’s why he didn’t notice your things slowly disappearing from the apartment then, and he still beats himself up for not realizing that you were slipping away.

He’d been on one of those seemingly long roadies and his flight came in early that morning from Tampa Bay. While they came out victorious, the games had been rough and Mathew was sore. He couldn’t wait to decompress and cuddle up with you for the few days he had off until the next home game. As the Uber pulled up outside the building, he felt exhaustion overcoming him and wanted to sleep the rest of the day away.

He walked through the door, lugging his duffel bag and suitcase, a sigh leaving his lips at the fact that he was finally home again. The ease he felt was quickly replaced with panic and confusion when his eyes landed on the suitcases in the foyer. His blood ran cold in his veins as he dropped his bags and called out your name with a panicked tone. The apartment remains silent so he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, pushing the door open to find you sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. His own rapid heartbeat is pounding in his ears as he pulls at his tie and moves towards you.

He drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, his eyes full of concern as he meets your tear filled ones. The pads of his fingers are rough and warm as he takes your hand in his own and whispers, “Why are your bags by the door, baby? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” your voice breaks as you reply, bottom lip wobbling before a sob wracks your body.

Mathew quickly pulls you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as you cry into his game day suit. Dread fills his body, having never seen you so upset. His heart is in his throat and he feels as if he’s going to be physically ill. He holds you like that, kissing the side of your head and whispering words of affirmation until you can compose yourself. You pull back from him and wipe your wet cheeks but he keeps one hand on the side of your head and the other on your waist.

Then you drop the bomb on him.

You explain that your internship was never a permanent plan to stay in New York. You have a flight in four hours that leaves for Paris. A one way ticket taking you to the fashion capital of the world to start your career. You found a job opportunity so perfect that you’d be stupid to pass up. Mathew wants to be happy for you. He wants to jump for joy and celebrate with you, but you hid this from him. You did exactly what he was afraid of and shared with you within hours of your first meeting. He’s filled with disbelief and anger instead.

“This was your plan the whole time? You hid this from me the last year we’ve been together?” he exasperates, moving to his feet as he starts to pace the room and tug at his hair.

“Everything was so good with us I didn’t want to ruin it. I was going to tell you, Mat, I swear.”

“When?!” he shouts, feeling guilty for a moment when he sees you flinch, but the anger overpowers it. “Because it looks like to me you were just going to leave without so much as a goodbye!”

You shake your head, and squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes as the tears start to well again. You argue, “I knew when your flight was coming in. I wouldn’t just leave you like that.”

“But you are. You are leaving me like that. You clearly have your mind made up about this and didn’t bother telling me,” he rebuttals, “You let me believe for a year that you were in this. I’ve given you one hundred percent, despite the hardships. What did you give me, huh? Fifty at best?”

You’re quiet, not wanting to admit that you hadn’t been all in on the relationship like him, even though you acted like it. Really, you’d had one foot out the door the whole time. Mathew’s voice shakes as he stares at you from across the room and says, “I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

A choked sob wracks through your body at his words and you cover your face with your hands. You knew he was in love with you, even the blind could see how head over heels Mathew Barzal was for you. He starts desperately rambling about how the two of you can make it work. Yes, long distance is hard, but he believes it’s worth it — believes you can love him like he loves you if you’ll take the risk. Why else would you have spent a year with him if some part of you didn’t think so? You put up with his relentless hockey schedule when you had every reason to walk away and live your life like the other twenty somethings you surround yourself with.

You disagree though. Long distance would only complicate things further. The different timezones would be unforgiving to your conflicting work schedules. Mathew often didn’t get long enough breaks to be able to fly out and see you and it be worth it. Plus, an international flight once a month, maybe more? It sounded like a good idea but eventually his wallet would suffer. You certainly couldn’t do it with the salary you were starting at, nor would you risk losing your job by unimportant travel to see a man. It was a negative and closed off way of looking at it on your part, but for both of your sake, it was best that way.

“It’s impossible…”

“It’s not impossible, you just don’t want to try!” Mathew yells, unable to care that his neighbors have more than likely heard every word of your argument.

“Mat, I have had the best year of my life here in New York. I’ve made memories that I could never in a million years forget. You are a part of that. I love you, God, do I fucking love you, but admit it. This was never meant to be long term. Not with the paths our lives are taking. We were never meant to last forever,” you stand from the bed and stare at him across the room, pleading with him to look at it from your perspective. You wanted to leave this in a good place, friends possibly, if he could accept what this was at face value. Two people who loved each other very much, but weren’t meant to be. The cliche ‘right people, wrong time’.

Mathew couldn’t though, he wouldn’t. He was blinded by a rage that he had never felt before. You had wasted his time — a year that he could’ve spent entertaining pretty girls who threw themselves at him for a quick fuck. Partying with his teammates and friends and reveling in his success that was only growing with every game he played. He finds himself wishing he had left you alone that night outside of the bar and just gone home. He lets the fury coursing through his veins take over, and with his fists shaking at his sides, he grits out in a low voice, “Get out.”

His words don’t shock you. You don’t know what other outcome you hoped would come from this. It doesn’t stop the stabbing pain that shoots through the center of your chest though. He won’t even look at you, hard gaze concentrated at your feet with his jaw set tight. You fight the urge to go to him. Wrap your arms around him and take it all back. Promise him you’ll stay even though you’d be sacrificing everything. It wasn’t fair to you, so you force your feet to carry you out of the bedroom and out of his front door for the last time. The sobs come once you’re in the elevator, then again in your friend’s (who was nice enough to give you a ride to the airport) car while they held you.

A few seconds after Mathew hears the front door shut, he’s tugging at his dark hair and letting out an agonizing shout. His breathing is ragged as he paces the room and debates running after you, but what would he say? The argument seemed final. You were set in your plan to take off to France and he couldn’t change your mind — he couldn’t make you stay. So he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself to feel the heartbreak, a guttural sob passing his lips.

Mathew closes his eyes and sucks a deep breath into his lungs as the memory fades. His heart is heavy in his chest as he reaches over and retrieves his phone from the bedside table. There’s a text from Anthony sent in the early hours of the morning, asking if he’d made it home safely. He doesn’t reply, instead opening the Instagram app and pulling up your profile.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks at your most recent picture. You changed your hair, a slightly different cut and a different color, but you’re just as breathtaking as he always thought you were. You’re sitting at a cafe with a cup of some fancy brew in front of you and the caption is in French, something about dreams coming true. Though, he’s not focused on some silly caption when he can’t take his eyes off of you. You look happy, wearing a smile he used to see when Anthony or one of your friends would sneak a picture of the two of you. Regret floods his body, the memory of the day you left still fresh in his mind. He thinks about liking the post just to tell you that he still loves you and he hasn’t forgotten about you. He exits out of the app before he allows himself to succumb to that urge.

He forces himself out of bed and into the shower before he’s late for practice. He mulls over in his head whether he should text you or not. He knows you more than likely won’t reply with how things ended all those months ago — now that you’ve moved on and you’re happy without him. He wishes he could too, yet he carries so much guilt for the things he said and allowing himself to have his heartbroken in the first place. He misses you like hell and the never ending visions of you plaguing his mind only makes it intensify.

Mathew heads to the rink in silence. He doesn’t speak to his teammates in the locker room and goes through the motions of practice in a daze. He’s not there completely and everyone can see it in his eyes. Anders is planning to pull him aside, Trotz insisting they have a talk and threatening to bench number thirteen until he gets his shit together. Mathew can tell. No one has tried to speak to him and Anthony keeps throwing him a side glance every few minutes. He prepares himself in the brief post-practice shower.

“Barzy, mind hanging back for a sec?” his captain asks as the other guys begin to filter out of the room.

He huffs out a sound of agreement while fishing his phone out of his duffel bag. His mom usually texts him a few times a week so he needs to let her know that he’ll give her a call later. He nearly drops the device as his eyes hone in on one message. Anders is talking but his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he can’t hear him. He clicks on your name and feels every nerve in his body ignite at what the text message says.

I miss you. I’m coming home.

tagging the gc bc I love them @bricksatlandyswindow @butgilinsky @barzysthighs @babytkachuks @dmonchld @anxietyandtacos @sortagaysortahigh

384 notes · View notes

henoda4 · 3 years

Text

--Just a little ficlet I had rolling around in my brain after the latest manga chapter. Can be read as platonic or romantic bkdk. Hopefully not too OOC, and probably some grammatical errors. Enjoy!--

* Manga spoilers- for those not caught up to chapter 317, ye' be warned!*

Finding that which is Lost:

It's been days, multiple infuriating days of searching, flying over rooftops and zigzagging through desolate alley ways and getting mostly useless information from the occasional civilian. Bakugou was pissed, hell he'd been pissed since he'd woken up in a hospital only to find out Deku was still unconscious, and then later to a goddamn letter and a nerd who'd gone off to fuck-knows-where. Uraraka had tried to tell him that he was probably just scared more so than angry, that they all were. Naturally he told her to shove it. But more than anything he'd been pissed from the moment that All Might walked right back into the UA dorms, fucking months later, looking absolutely miserable and terrified. The former Pro Hero had barely gotten the explanation out of what he and Deku had been up to before he'd straight up slugged the man. Deku left All Might behind? Deku's pushing everyone away? What the fuck does that even mean? Godammit, didn't he warn the damn nerd not to do this shit?! All Might at least had the decency to look apologetic, as if he knew he deserved the hit.

As he moves the buildings start to blur a bit and he recalls a memory from the recesses of his mind. He and Deku had been very little, he doesn't recall how old exactly, he just knew it was at some point before he had driven a wedge between their friendship, and it was the first time both of their families had gone on a camping trip. The two children had wandered away from the campsite for a bit to explore. He recalls several minutes passing and him and Deku getting separated, and even though /he/ wasn't scared of anything in the woods, he wanted to keep Deku close, you know, just in case, poor nerd would probably bawl his eyes out without him. Sure enough after a few minutes of searching he heard loud sobs and found the green haired boy crouched underneath a tree, his knees all scratched up from taking a tumble. Deku's green eyes lit up in relief upon seeing him and his little heart swelled at the reaction.

"Kacchan!"

"Stupid Izuku! I told you to stay with me!"

"I know, I'm sorry Kacchan, I guess I got lost."

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah-"

"Well, come on then!"

He grabbed Deku's hand and yanked him upright, then practically pulled him along behind him.

He put on his best All Might voice impression, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back Izuku!"

If he'd turned behind him, he'd have seen the beaming smile aimed his way.

But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan."

Back in the present moment, Bakugou was snapped out of his memory by a blur of green, and he abruptly came to a halt on a rooftop. Looking over the edge, he saw down to the street below where there was another flash of green and just as suddenly a figure stepped out, their silhouette half covered in shadows. His eyes widened, he was far away, so he couldn't be sure. But that lightning, the black-green tendrils that trailed the figure, it had to be...it couldn't be. He leapt ahead to the next building over making sure never to lose sight of the ground below, and then jumped down the side to stay out of the figure's line of vision. He silently thanked Hatsume for the upgrades to his gauntlets that rendered them way quieter than usual. As he peaked around the corner he saw the figure walk close to the sides of the building heading his direction. Suddenly their head came under a direct beam of light from a street lamp, and he felt his whole body freeze from the inside out.

The person in front of him, was unmistakably Deku. The teal jumpsuit, worn and disgustingly dirty and covered in various degrees of drying blood, his leg bracers ripped to shreds, those ridiculous bunny ears frayed, and those red shoes that he would recognize anywhere. It was Deku, but not Deku as he had named him, a useless person, incapable of doing anything, and not Deku as the boy himself had taken the meaning, a person capable of anything, full of unlimited promise. No this was Deku as in a doll, a mere foreboding vessel of power and purpose. There was nothing in those green eyes, glowing but soulless. It was Deku, but it was no longer the Deku he knew, and it definitely wasn't Midoriya Izuku.

"I know you're there. Although if you're not here to attack me, then what is your purpose?"

Bakugou flinched at the voice, momentarily having forgotten about "Danger sense", All Might had tried to explain before, but he'd been a little too preoccupied planning how to get around the security at UA to go after Deku to pay close attention to the details.

He figured to hell with it and stepped out into Deku's line of view.

"What the hell do you think I'm here for Deku?"

Now Deku froze, his head raising slightly. His voice came out quiet and hesitant, completely unfitting the ominous aura his appearance gave off.

"Kacchan? Is that really you?"

"Who the fuck else would it be?"

To his surprise Deku started approaching him again, the tendrils of black whip receding and the lightning dimming to nothing. When he was close enough he yanked his hood down, and Bakugou got an up close look at the grime and blood caked on his face, the sunken eyes and black bags of sleep deprivation.

"What the fuck happened to you Deku?"

The green haired boy seemed nearly ready to collapse, as if he was standing upright on sheer willpower and adrenaline alone. Bakugou fought the urge to grab him and throttle him, as fragile as he seemed at the moment, like a breathe would knock him over. Instead it was Deku who grabbed him by the arm as if he couldn't believe his eyes alone, and needed the physical confirmation of his presence.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was worried... after you, you know."

Bakugou felt his anger boil back to the surface.

"Worried about me?! What the fuck?! Worry about yourself for fucking once! Do you have any idea how upset everyone was when you took off after nearly dying, and then left only a fucking letter! How worried sick your mom is?! How scared your fucking shitty friends are?!"

He didn't realize he was shaking until he felt Deku's hand slide down his arm slightly.

"I'm sorry Kacchan, I know I should've talked to you in person. But I had to go, and if I had waited, you would have tried to stop me."

"DAMN RIGHT I WOULD HAVE!"

Silence.

"I told you not to do this shit on your own Deku, I told you not to play the hero on your own. Do you not think I'm strong enough to help you?! Are you actually fucking looking down on me this time?!"

"No, of course not! I told you I've never looked down on you. I just....I can't see you get hurt for me again. I can't risk anyone getting hurt again because of me, because I couldn't do anything to protect them....I can't let that happen! I have to do this on my own. OFA was given to me so I could-"

"You're such a fucking idiot. You think you can take down every fucking villain on your own? Take down AFO on your own?"

The little shit had the nerve to smile awkwardly at him, "I've managed fine so far."

Bakugou yanked his arm out of Deku's grasp, and gestured at his whole body.

"This! This is not fine! You're barely standing, you're covered in blood and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. When's the last time you fucking ate? You can't keep this up Deku, even in his prime All Might didn't handle shit like this. And I know I said some real shitty stuff in the past about you being quirkless, but you are more than just OFA's vessel. You were the one to fucking get that through my head.. that we are more than just our quirks. So what the hell?"

"I-"

"Just let me help you Deku."

"But Kacc-"

"Dammit! It took me years to understand that you genuinely wanted to help me not because you thought I was weak, but just because you're a natural born hero and you care about me or some shit. Just..just let me return the favor for once. You don't have to do this alone."

He turned his head away uncomfortably, suddenly acutely aware of how inept he was at expressing himself in these delicate situations. How was he supposed to get through to Deku? Would this be enough? The nerd always seemed to be able to read him like a book, he hoped that proved to be the case now.

"Ka-"

He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. He was running out of options, aside from pummeling the nerd into submission. But for once he wanted to chose a different option.

"Please Izuku." He lifted his gaze to meet his child hood friend's. A silent plea hanging in the air.

In the span of seconds that felt like an eternity they kept eye contact and Deku seemed like he was trying to find something in that contact, like a promise, or a confirmation, whatever it was, he finally sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground.

It was barely a whisper.

"Okay."

Bakugou let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Can you walk nerd?" He extended his hand out to the green haired teen who took it right away. He tightened his grip immediately.

"Yeah, but I'm a little sleepy-"

Before Deku could finish, and without a word Bakugou yanked the other teen towards himself and lifted him up. The teen seemed surprisingly small and light in his arms, a far cry from the monstrous visage he painted when they first crossed paths several minutes ago.

As he walked down the blocks and could feel the tension leave Deku's body as his form went slack, he gazed down to see the nerd's eyes slowly closing, he must be exhausted. He kept walking down the vacant streets, on alert for any potential threats, the nerd's weight a comforting presence in his arms. He assumed the other teen was already unconscious .

He briefly gazed up and saw the stars through the gaps between the building silhouettes, he thought back again to that time in the forest as kids.

He whispered in the dark, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back."

If he had looked down a second time he would have seen the subtle but content smile aimed at him. But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan." before the teen fell asleep in his arms.

#bkdk #platonic bkdk #bkdk fic #bnha bkdk #bnha #mha bkdk #bnha angst #bnha spoilers #bnha 317

32 notes · View notes

wonniexy · 3 years

Text

# MISSING PUZZLE PIECES NEED TO BE FOUND | yang jungwon.

— 8784 HOURS: OUCH, I FELL FOR YOU

words: 2k

pairing: JUNGWON x reader x jay (mentioned)

genre: angst.

spirit!jungwon, fantasy!au, boyfriend!jay

cw/tw: language, mention of death, angst, lost love

notes: I wasn't planning on making this into a angst chapter :((( + it is not proofread! Beware of grammatical errors!

prompt: 70. "Stop visiting me! It's getting pretty annoying..." "Shut up, you love it when you get to see my face."

Sleep.

How beautiful is it to lay your head on the pillow, after a day of those that feel way too though, close your eyes and immediately go on a journey into one of the parallel worlds that your mind can create every time Morpheus takes you in his arms?

It's beautiful, for you. Almost magical.

Except for those nights when the dear son of Ipno and Nyx decides not to turn into a dream, but into something you've started to hate since a few months ago. And the fact that, each time, you manage to wake up but the thing doesn't seem to want to go away, is making you, simply put, freak out. Completely.

Or, at least, that is what you tell yourself.

You sigh heavily as you manage to open your eyes and stare at the figure sitting comfortably cross-legged at the end of your twin bed. He's smiling, the bastard, you think.

"Could you please stop, what do you call it? Visiting me? It's getting pretty annoying."

"Oh, shut up." He replies, with his usual giggle that, though you'd never admit it, always manages to make you smile internally. "You love it when you get to see my face."

"I'd have to argue with that." You say, crinkling your tired eyes. You yawn. "What do you want now, Jungwon? What do I get this time? What did I do?"

"Oh," the boy, or he who, long ago, had been a boy, begins, settling in closer to you and shaking his head so that his thick brown hair becomes more shaggy, "I'm not here by anyone's will but my own. I have the night off." He shrugs.

You look at him, gripped by an innate desire to choke him with your own hands, and clench your hands into fists. "If you have the night off, why the fuck are you here?"

"To talk?"

"At three in the morning?"

"It's the only time I can interact with anyone - you, so yes. At three in the morning."

"Jungwon..."

"Y/n..."

"Fuck you! Go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone!" You yell, grabbing the pillow from behind your back and throwing it in Jungwon's direction.

"You're looking pretty aggressive tonight." Jungwon scoffs, promptly grabbing the pillow before it can even think of having a chance to hit him. "Did something happen?"

You roll your eyes, only to sit up and hit the covers furiously. "Jay." You say. "Jay happened."

"Why am I not surprised at all?" Jungwon laughs a little. "What did he do this time?"

You scoff. "What he does every time: he doesn't listen to me." You close your eyes and sigh, only to bring your hands to your face and scream, or something purportedly similar, all your anger into them.

"He left me, again. Meaning, we broke up. I guess. He says he loves me, then he suddenly doesn't anymore. Then he loves me again. And I... I try to explain everything to him, Jungwon." You look at your friend (the one you tell yourself you can't stand), sitting next to you but still too far away to be touched. You start to cry in frustration and close your eyes again.

"I try. I always try to tell him that whatever happens can be fixed and it can be fixed if we work together."

If only your eyes were open and looking in front of you, you might see Jungwon's face sadden. It's not the first time he's seen you in this condition: desperate, crying, scared. All because of what you call your boyfriend three times a week and four times not.

Jungwon might lie, now. Lie, again. Lie like he has been doing for the past seven month and a half when he visited you every night, without missing one: despite the fact that you were asleep and couldn't feel his presence. Lie like he has done in his previous life, even if this isn't his second one.

This time, though, lying doesn't seem to make sense to him anymore. It's wearing him down. It reminds him of the time when he was alive and telling lies led him to survive one more day, until there were no more days and he couldn't help it anymore.

You don't really cry; you've never really been able to. Not for Jay and your entire relationship (if that'swhat it can be called), at least. You have your hands clenched tightly on the blankets and you open your eyes almost with difficulty, as your slight sobs subside in the warmth of Jungwon's hand on your covered by a faint layer of cloth shoulder.

Never before had you felt his touch.

He told you he couldn't touch you, or he would have had to leave. Forever.

He told you it was one of the rules he had to follow to make himself earn a new life to live to the fullest, this time.

But now his hand is on your shoulder, and you seem to panic, because even though you can't stand his nocturnal visits, you love him. You love him like he was your long lost brother. He listened to you, all this time. You know a lot about him, as well. You hit it off, as he would normally say.

You don't want him to leave.

"Why did you do that?" You ask, your eyes wide and trembling and your gaze leaping from his hand to his face." You had... You said you weren't allowed to...why- are you fucking out of your mind?" Tears threaten to fall down and you try raising one of your hand to grab his arm and move it away from you before it's too late, even if you don't know when too late is.

"Oh, shut up." Jungwon says, almost laughing – his usual, playful laugh, despite the tone of his voice hinting at unspeakable sadness. "I don't have much time, now, so you're going to listen to me, okay?"

You nod, slowly, in rhythm with what you wish were your own beats.

"I have loved in the past. In my only life." Jungwon begins. "Maybe even too much. And I've lost. Not by my own will, but by the will of something that, even if I fought hard against, I could not bring down. I never let go, or threw down the sword of my love, because that person...oh, y/n, that person was my person. The one. The missing piece of my personal puzzle."

His hand burns on your shoulder, and each sounding word pierces your heart. Ij between tears, you begin to wonder if Jay is the missing piece of your puzzle, if you are the one of his own, or if both of you are the missing piece of someone else's puzzle, lost and hidden among a thousand other pieces and a thousand other boxes.

"And it was like that. That person completed the puzzle perfectly. We could have been framed, placed in plain sight on the largest wall of a luxury home, but the whole thing we had got lost. My ultimate puzzle piece was ripped away from me; it was stolen from me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Lying was my job; lying was what I was trained and supposed to do. Lie about who you really love. Marry the one who will help you grow: not growing up, but growing money and success. But I did not want it and, at some point, I messed up. I was no longer able to hide my forbidden love, my real love. I didn't want to. I thought it wasn't fair. And I ended up paying the consequences of my actions. One by one."

Since you've been knowing him, you never saw Jungwon cry: cheerful, carefree, bastard. The spirit, as he called himself (or as you wanted him to call himself), always showed up in your room with mirth etched on his face. You had asked him how his life had ended, he had answered, but it wasn't tragic and it wasn't sadder than any other death.

He just died, peacefully, his children all grown up and his family by his side.

He never talked about his feelings.

This time, however, the story is different and the tears are not only seen: they are felt deep inside. Each of his tears holds sadness, grief, anguish and repentance.

They all flow and flow and flow profusely, without stopping for a single moment and without letting you see Jungwon's languid dark eyes clearly again.

Your tears seem to follow what Jungwon's ones do.

"I come to see you to make sure you don't follow my steps, because we may have a different story, a different way on how we should handle things, but the moral is the same: don't do what can lead you to live unhappily."

Jungwon cries, but he still manages to speak clearly as he always does.

You want to hug him, hold him and apologize for everything, even though you are not to blame. And neither is him.

"You don't have to lie to anyone. You don't have to. Just stop. Stop. Stop." His voice breaks from sobs. "You're only hurting yourself. And I, after tonight, will no longer be here: there will only be a faded memory of me left in your teenage mind, and that memory will fade and fade and fade again, until it becomes a haze. So, do the right thing, okay? For yourself.

I stopped lying, and I lost, because it wasn't what I was meant to do. If you stop lying now, you will win. Because you are free. And you'll be even freer later, and you'll find your missing puzzle piece. You will be able to live with that missing piece, making it into a found one."

Jungwon's presence bothered you, the first few times. Then, it became pleasant, but to him you never admitted it. Now, as you watch his body dressed as a normal 17-year-old in these years (which aren't his, but which he's tried to get used to) slowly fade until it looks like nothing but dust fluttering around your bedroom, you realize you don't want him to leave.

"You're my best friend, Jungwon." You find yourself saying, crying hard and then harder. "You're my best friend, and I hate to tell you this just now. And I want to hug you, tell you that whatever happened in your previous life you didn't deserve it and that I will never forget you. And I'm so fucking sorry, because you're not going to live a second life because you wanted to help me."

He keeps on fading, but his tears don't stop scrolling. Neither do yours.

"I'm going to stop lying, I'm going to listen to you, and I'm not going to forget your eyes, or your deceptive smiles or your laughter and your inappropriate jokes."

You hear him laugh and mutter a few words you could swear by are "I would do this for you again. Give you a chance."

Then, you just know he can't answer you anymore, because he keeps fading, flying, going away, but you hear everything he would like to keep saying to you, and once again, you close your eyes.

This time, to not see him disappear from your life. Forever.

"I will not forget you. I will find my missing piece. I will complete my puzzle. I will always have you as my ally."

"I love you."

What if I told you that Jungwon is smiling, looking at you and hearing your words, wherever he is now?

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #enhypen jungwon #enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst

43 notes · View notes

someusername · 3 years

Text

Hello! It’s me again seeing something that makes me think about wolfstar and trying to write something. This time is this little comic from Instagram.

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

It was silly.

They were in the midst of a war, again. Tensions were rising. His missions were longer and with less time in between to recover.

But Remus knew that if he didn't do something now, maybe there wouldn't be any more opportunities to do it later.

He thought about the first time he accepted his feelings a long while ago. He never did anything more than acknowledging them. Why would he do that? It's not as if Sirius had shown him that he might feel something similar, and with the first war looming over them, it was not a good idea to go there.

He had been okay, back then, being just friends with Sirius. But not anymore.

Not when he realized that even after thirteen years, his feelings were still there. They weren't the feelings he had at twenty-one, but the essence was the same. He was surprised when those feelings made themselves known again when Sirius was lying low at his house. He was even more surprised when he realized that it hadn't felt like a home until Sirius appeared at his doorstep and spent some time there.

This time he took more time to accept those feelings, but in the end, he did.

Remus still wasn't sure Sirius could feel something more than friendship for him, so what he was going to do now was just silly.

He had been worrying about this all the way back to Grimmauld Place after his stakeout with Tonks. They had been talking about something or other when Tonks mentioned how Sirius was still handsome even after Azkaban. He had felt a strange surge of jealousy, and had made some remark about how he had always gotten all the women's attention (not that Sirius paid any mind to them but still). Tonks had been taken aback by that comment, and had told him that if he was observant he would know who she liked. He was confused by it but had changed the topic to not rile her up anymore. He made a mental note to pay more attention to the possible love interests of Tonks, though, maybe it was Bill, or Fleur, or ughh, he hoped it wasn't Snape (that would be disgusting).

He replayed her words in his mind over and over again, feeling each time the same jealousy. It was not normal to have that reaction to just a comment about Sirius' good looks. He pondered his feelings, he knew they were growing, but it was a bit of a surprise just how deep and strong they were. He thought about the options he had, tell him something or remain silent and continue as they were. What would the worst outcome be if he just told Sirius everything?

He had those thoughts stuck on his head for the rest of their shift. Soon, they were finished with the stakeout and he had made a decision. He told Tonks to go ahead to the headquarters, and he would catch up later. He had something to do first.

That's how he ended up in front of Grimmauld's door with a bouquet of pink roses, forget-me-nots, and baby's-breath. It really was silly.

When he finally entered the house, he went directly to the drawing-room where most of the mission reports were given to the other Order's members.

Remus stopped at the door and took a deep breath to calm down. There, in one of the armchairs, was Sirius swirling a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He was watching a group whispering on the other side of the room.

As if he had sensed Remus' presence, Sirius looked up and gave him one of his bright smiles. Remus smiled in return and made his way over the armchair. That's when Sirius noticed the bouquet. His smile flattered a bit and his eyes' brightness was replaced with a mix of sadness and disappointment. Remus didn't expect such a reaction. He could imagine rejection, fear, rage, but not sadness.

He was about to say something when Sirius spoke. "You must be here looking for Tonks, don't you? She's over there."

What? "Er… What? No?" Remus' helpful brain supplied. But before he could explain anything, Sirius was getting Tonks attention and beckoning her over.

Remus was trying to stop Sirius when she noticed them. She excused herself from her companions and crossed the room with too much enthusiasm.

"Hi Remus, nice flowers, are those for me?" Tonks said with an overly sweet tone, and a faint blush on her cheeks, putting a hand on his forearm. Sirius was faking a small smile and was trying to come up with an escape route.

Remus didn't understand what was happening. Why had Sirius looked disappointed when he had seen the bouquet? Why had he called Tonks over here? And why was Tonks talking to him like that? Oh, Merlin, she had just told him that he was unobservant for not knowing who she liked. Does this mean that Tonks liked him? He had to let her down. He had to talk to Sirius first, though. He needed to say something now.

So before Sirius could go and Tonks could say anything else, he blurted a too loud "No!"

Both, Sirius and Tonks, were surprised by his tone and were watching him with wide eyes.

He felt a blush on his face, ears, and neck. He cleared his throat, and tried again, more gently this time. "No, sorry, Tonks. They are actually for Sirius," he said before shoving the flowers into Sirius' hands.

"What?" Came the joint response from the two people in front of him.

"Er… Yes… I-... Sirius, I need to tell you something," he said rather lamely looking at the floor. He could not face either of them. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was so silly.

After some moments in which no one said anything, he dared to look up. Sirius was looking down at him with a curious expression on his face, clutching the bouquet close to his chest. He gave Remus a small nod of his head and put his hand on Remus' arm. Remus turned to Tonks, who was watching their little exchange with an amused look, and said to her a quiet "sorry," looking apologetic. She smiled at him and turned to walk to the other side of the room where she had been talking with other people.

Sirius then proceeded to march Remus out of the drawing-room and into the kitchen, which was blessedly empty. Remus didn't want to have this conversation with an audience. It had been bad enough with Tonks there a few minutes ago.

They sat down at the table in front of each other. Sirius put the flowers delicately on the table between them and crossed his arms. Remus was nervously fidgeting with a loose thread on the cuff of his jumper.

Sirius cleared his throat, waiting for Remus to look at him. When he finally looked up, he saw Sirius with one eyebrow lifted. The brightness of his eyes had returned with full force, and he was trying to stifle a smile.

" Do you know that these flowers have meanings?" Sirius said, amusement coloring his voice.

Remus felt himself blush again. "Yes, I know."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? The meaning of the flowers, is that what you feel? Towards me?"

"I-... Yes," he said timidly, averting Sirius' gaze. Here it came, the rejection. At least he hoped Sirius still wanted to be his friend, he didn't know what he would do if he lost him as a friend.

"Good," Sirius said, with a tone of finality.

Remus looked at him, with his head tilted to the side, trying to decipher what he meant. Sirius simply took a small portion of the flowers and gave it to him.

"In that case, I want to tell you the same," he said with the brightest smile Remus has seen him wearing in the last couple of years.

He was gobsmacked. Was Sirius saying what he thought he was saying? He gaped a few times until his brain caught up with what was happening. "You… Me?... Do you… " well, his brain was almost caught up.

"Yes, Remus, I feel the same towards you." Sirius got up off his chair and circled the table to stand in front of Remus. Remus turned to look at him. He gently cupped Remus' face in his hands. Remus stood up too, with Sirius' hands still on his face, caressing his cheekbones. A silent understanding passed between them, and with that, Remus went on his tiptoes as Sirius bent down a bit. Their lips met in the middle, in what will be the first of many many more sweet kisses.

It wasn’t silly at all.

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

Meanings of the flowers are from this lovely post and (baby’s-breath = everlasting love).

I apologize for any grammatical errors/typos, and excessive use of commas. I hope you enjoyed this.

#wolfstar #Sirius x Remus #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #canon divergence #hp ootp #getting together #nymphadora tonks #inspired by an Instagram comic #fluff #i wrote something!#My writing

30 notes · View notes

weeb-stomper · 4 years

Text

Won’t be Without You

Villain Deku x Fem!Hero!Reader

A/N: Hello! This is my first fan fiction that I’ve written. It’s completely unedited, so I’m sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors. Feel free to message me with suggestions and corrections, I appreciate any input you’d take the time to offer!

Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, violence against reader, language

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

A dizzying sense of nausea crashed over you like a wave from the ocean, stirring you from unconsciousness. A dull, throbbing pain in your head made itself fully known as your head rolled forward, chin resting heavily against your chest. You tried and failed to bring your hands to your face, only then realizing that they were bound tightly behind you. Jerking your head upright, you tried again to tug your hands free. Horror swept through your mind, and an attempt to kick out with your legs confirmed that they were also well-bound to the seat you sat in. The scratchy and rough material peeled away at your skin as you struggled, a slick, wet feeling rolling down your hands and collecting on your fingertips before falling to the cracked pavement floor. The disgusting, rhythmic dripping of what could only be your own blood pounded in your ears over and over again like a drum, causing you to double down and fight harder against the restraints.

Small whimpers and yelps left your mouth as you thrashed in a desperate attempt to free yourself for what felt like hours, only stilling when you had long since used the reserves of your strength. Only now, huffing out ragged breaths and sweat rolling down the slope of your neck, did you stop to look around the makeshift prison cell. The room was dark, a small window set high into the wall acting as the only source of light. Sounds of zooming cars could be heard faintly every once in a while, their headlights pouring into the room and bathing it with artificial yellow light before abandoning to the pitch-blackness once more. In the moments of illumination you could see the bland, red-brick walls of the oppressive room, the shapes of the barrels and crates surrounding you revealed by the streaking lights. The sound of a far-away door clicking open stopped your inspection in its tracks.

Your head shot towards the noise, panic washing through your mind, and you could see light pouring into the room from the top of a set of stairs about 15 feet to your right. Trembling, Y/N hung your head once more and clenched your eyes shut in a poor attempt to pass as unconscious. The sounds of two distinct sets of footsteps filled the room. They approached your bound figure at a steady and consistent pace, one coming to stop directly behind you while the other took up post in front of you. A rough, calloused hand slid across your shoulder, and you couldn’t stop the resulting shudder. The ensuing chuckle was far too familiar. You jerked away from the sound, tucking your head forward against your chest in a sad attempt to create distance between yourself and Shigaraki as you bucked wildly against your restraints. The thought that those killer hands had touched you, even for a second, almost caused you to pass out right then and there. Tears pooled in your eyes, choked sobs and grunts escaping your throat despite efforts to stuff them down. A much smoother hand gripped your chin, easily yanking it up from its semi-protected position, and you froze completely when your y/e/c eyes met a nostalgic set of striking emerald green ones. Confusion clouded your already overwhelmed mind.

“...Izuku?”

A wicked smile twisted your previous classmate’s face as he stared at your grief stricken expression, his hot breath fanning across your sweat-soaked face.

“Surprised?” he asked excitedly, his hand sliding up from your chin to rub tears away from under your eyes. “I’m so happy to see you, Y/N. I’ve missed you so much since I went away.”

Reeling, you took in the sight of your childhood friend. Midoriya was crouched between your knees, easily balancing on his toes as he looked at your face with melancholic adoration. He wore a crisp white dress shirt tucked into creased black slacks, a simple belt with a small silver buckle adorning his waist. A dark green tie hugged his neck, disappearing underneath a pristine black dress vest. The black leather glove on his right hand hid the thick scars that you’d always thought were so beautiful. His wild curls had been cut shorter, revealing a neat undercut on the back of his head. He looked exactly as handsome as he had when he’d disappeared during your freshman year at U.A, almost four years ago.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time? No one’s seen you in years, Izuku, we thought you were dead!” you spat at him, turning your head to escape the affectionate touch. “Don’t touch me!” you almost screamed. “Do you have any idea what this has been like for us? For your mo-”

SMACK

The coppery taste of blood filled your mouth as you sat in stunned silence, your cheek already beginning to swell. Your head swiveled towards Midoriya slowly, as if on a post, and you looked up at him with defiant eyes. He was standing again, teeth bared in a vicious snarl as he bore down on your bound form. The tension in the air ratcheted up to an unbearable level as the stare down continued, not caring about igniting his wrath at this point. You were mad, you were hurt, and there was no way he was going to let you walk away from this either way, so you were going to let him feel the full array of the pain you’d endured during his absence.

“You’re telling me you ditched Katsuki and I to be a villain and you still hit like a sissy?”

He bristled at the jab, fists clenching tightly at his sides as he worked to restrain himself.

“You’d do well not to antagonize me. I’m happy to see you, but not that happy.” he said, voice laced with malice.

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want!” you screamed. You stilled when a weight settled onto your neck.

A hand now gripped the base of your neck from behind, one finger missing. Anger and indignation melted into stark terror as Shigaraki leaned in close to your ear, the sound of his sickening laughter biting into your sanity and making your skin crawl. As if to solidify the unspoken threat, the black detachable collar of your hero costume dissolved into ash. Midoriya crouched between your bound legs once more, fixing you with a level stare.

“I’ll be straightforward. I want you to join the league. Be with me again, like before.”

Your eyes blew painfully wide, mouth falling open. “You’re joking.”

“Don’t you remember what those ‘heroes’ did to us? They bullied us, they ignored us, they called you a villain. Kachan humiliated us almost daily and no one batted an eyelash. And now he gets to be the #1 top hero? How is that fair? Why should you dedicate your life to a society that hates you? Join us, you and I can be together again.” His hand snaked up from his side to press against your cheek again, thumb running gently across your bottom lip. “We can be together the way we always wanted.”

Your nausea returned full-force as his fingers ghosted across your face greedily. What is he talking about? Izuku had been your closest friend. He’d supported you through bullying and family crisis, self-esteem issues, classroom anxiety, and just life in general. In return you’d done the same by answering a seemingly endless stream of phone calls about the most recent heroics from the news or glimpsed on the street or supporting him through a particularly nasty confrontation with Katsuki. But despite your closeness, you’d never been or even wanted to be involved. If he had romantic feelings for you then this was the first you were hearing of it, and it wasn’t good news. Setting that aside, you decide to press this moment of vulnerability, hoping to stir some sense of the golden heart you’d always admired.

“Zuku, is this really who you want to be?”

He recoiled from your like you’d struck him, nursing his hand against his chest, and a jolt of fear ran through your icy veins. “Who cares who I wanted to be? I pined for hero society my entire life and they rejected me!” he bellowed, rising to a standing position to pace a few feet in front of the seat. “If they don’t want me the way I wanted to give myself to them then they should at least take responsibility for the person I became instead.”

You scoffed at the delusional rant, anger boiling lowly behind your y/e/c eyes as you stared up at the shell of your friend. “That’s bullshit and you know it Zuku! We got into U.A, we made it into hero society! Hell, you were a top performer in the hero course! It was all within your reach, and you skipped out to join these guys!” The muscles in your neck twitched with exertion as you worked to remain perfectly still, a lifted finger dancing tauntingly in your peripheral vision. You took a deep breath and lowered your strained voice. “We never stopped looking for you. y’know. You could just come home with me. Walk away from all this right now and I’d never say a word.”

Calm down. Katsuki’s probably out looking for me right now. I just have to stay calm till he turns up.

At that, Midoriya stopped pacing. He turned to face you, a pained expression on his face. Striding forward, he waved off Shigaraki. You sagged against the seat in relief. The adrenaline that had pounded through your veins had been burned off, and all it left behind was absolute exhaustion. You were unable to resist when Midoriya ran his fingers through your hair, both of his hands trailing down your jaw to hold your face between his palms. He inclined your head towards him and pity surged through you at the glossy look in his once optimism-soaked eyes.

“Do you still love me?” he asked in the most pitiful voice you’d ever heard from him.

You leaned into his gloved palm, nuzzling it weakly. “Of course I do, Zuku. You’re my best friend. But...I just can’t do this for you.”

He knelt down between your legs again, scooting as close as possible before resting his forehead against yours.

“Please agree to stay with me. I won’t be without you again.”

“Come with me instead.” you said, not hiding the desperation in your trembling voice. “You and I are the only ones who know you’ve been here, and I’d never say a word. We could make something up and go back to normal.”

Midoriya sighed heavily. He stood up, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before walking towards the door. Shigaraki followed without a word, shooting a vicious smirk over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice as he drew closer to the door.

“If you won’t agree to stay then I’ll just have to keep you here by force, doll. You’ll come around eventually, but until then you’ll just have to stay right where you are.”

Completely drained and unable to thrash anymore, you sagged limply in your seat. Darkness enveloped you once more as the door clacked shut, and dread ate at your gut while you prayed for someone, anyone, to save you from the man you’d devoted your life to finding for four agonizing years

144 notes · View notes

anjanettexcordonia · 3 years

Text

Living Proof

Chapter 1

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir A/U

Catch Up Here Living Proof A/U

Rating/Triggers: Mature (18+) some language; alcohol consumption; infidelity

Pairings: Drake x MC; Liam x MC; Drake x OC

Word count: 1354 (+/-)

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors. I apologize for my unexpected hiatus but the holiday season has been BUSY! As I am sure most of you can relate! I will be getting back to my other series as well. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

Summary: The aftermath of the events in New York. How Liam handles the betrayal, it’s not what you expect. Even a King is still a human.

Disclaimer: Some characters & some scenes belong to Pixelberry.

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know.

PermaTags: @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @mom2000aggie

Series Tags: @tinkie1973 @cordonianroyalty @txemrn @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

We touched down on the private tarmac in Cordonia. “Let’s go, Riley, Mara is waiting for you with the kids.” Liam stated as he grabbed my hand and pulled me from my seat. “Why are the kids here Liam?” I asked, confused. Liam ignored my question as we made our way off the jet. Ellie and William were hand in hand with Lindsay as we disembarked. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks in embarrassment. I had no idea what Liam had told her or what she knew. “Mommy Daddy!” Our children's small voices exclaimed at our arrival. Together. They both were the spitting image of their father with their blonde hair and blue eyes. Neither received my hair and caramel eyes. I always felt the stark contrast between my family.

Liam picked up our four year old daughter and swirled her around in his arms into a tight hug. He knelt down and reached his arm to his namesake, our son William. “Daddy has to go on another trip, but mommy is staying this time.” Liam kissed both of their hands. I felt taken off guard by his revelation. “Liam?” I questioned. “I’m going away for awhile Riley. I need to figure things out.” He whispered making sure to not let the little ears around us catch on. Olivia is coming from Lythikos to help.” Liam turned back towards the jet. “Wait, Liam.” I called after him. Liam stopped in his tracks. He didn’t turn. “It’s for the best Riley.” He boarded the jet and the door closed behind him.

I felt the tears forming in my eyes and my labor breathing to take over. But my children were watching, I couldn’t let them know their world was crashing down around them. Lindsay helped me load the children into the suv while Mara loaded my bags into the suv. I never spoke a word about Liam's departure, nor anything else. Regret filled me once again, as we watched my husband fly into the dark horizon. I lost a piece of me on that jet with him. He took a piece of me everywhere with him. I tear trickled down my cheek at the realization of my selfishness.

I watched my wife, who just a few months ago I adored and trusted unconditionally, load our children into the black Escalade. I had no idea whether she would go back to the palace or Valtoria. Probably Valtoria so she could stew in her regret in private. Her face when I said I was leaving, filled with guilt that she attempted to hide. Why she did what she did I didn’t know, and right now I don’t care. We fought to be with her. I almost gave up my country for her. I made her a Queen, I gave her two beautiful children and I tried to show her everyday how much I loved her. But it wasn’t enough.

I grabbed a bottle of liquor. No glass was needed. I’m headed for the solace of the beach. My island. It was a short flight but intended to be completely inebriated on arrival. I planned to drink my feelings away until I’m able to sort them out. “Sir, we have about forty five minutes until we land on the island.” The flight attendant spoke to me. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped it open. A text from Bastien had come through while my jet was on the ground.

“On the ground with Walker. He’s meeting Mrs. Walker at the Walker Estate. Leo confirmed he would look after Riley in your absence. Godspeed sir.”

I sighed a breath of relief that Bastien and Leo would be there in my stead as I worked things out. I scrolled to my photo album and pulled the photo of Riley and I from our last anniversary trip a few months ago. Before I found about her infidelity and Drake’s betrayal. I stared at the photo of Riley and I. I don’t know what happened or why. We were so happy. At least I thought we were. I took another large gulp from the bottle in my hand.

Am I better off without her? Did we grow apart? Did she ever love me? The thoughts consumed me as I consumed the bottle of amber liquid in my hand.

Drake slithered into my thoughts like a rattlesnake looking for warmth in a frozen desert. I can’t deal with the thoughts of his betrayal with my wife. I’d sooner banish him from Cordonia but Lindsay but didn’t deserve it. I took a few more swigs from the bottle of scotch in front of me to numb the feelings of anger and betrayal I felt towards the most important people in my life.

We landed on the island Riley and I had spent our honeymoon. My island. I disembarked from the jet to the sounds of the loud thump of music in the distance. “What’s going on Anthony?” I asked as I stumbled down the stairs of the jet. “Cordonia University college students sir. You approved their use of the island for their spring festivities.” My security officer informed me. “Fuck. I forgot about that.” I took another swig of the half empty bottle of scotch in my hand.

“Might as well join the party, fuck it.” I attempted not to slur my words, failing miserably.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, you just flew 13 hours sir.”

“Yup.” I responded. I was starting to get annoyed by Anthony’s presence. “I’ll be fine. Take my bags to the beach house.” Anthony bowed and headed to the cargo area of the place.

I made my way to the resort filled with drunk college kids. The thumping of the music grew louder as I neared the large pool and cabana area.

I went wheels up on a runway

And that ticket was a one way

I’m somewhere on a beach sippin’ something strong

Got a new girl she’s got it going on

Was thumping over the speakers. How fitting I thought.

All of a sudden screams and cheers erupted drowning out the music.

“King Liam has arrived” came over the speakers.

A smile spread across my face as the screams grew louder. I walked to the DJ booth and took the microphone from the extended hand of the disc jockey, no invitation necessary.

“Cordonian University! Go big Red!” I yelled into the microphone. The screams erupted. The bikini clad girls and shirtless men hooped and hollered as they held their red solo cups of cheap alcohol in the air. I waited for the screams to calm before I continued. “I have a task for you all tonight. We’re going to drink until I can’t remember what I came here to forget!”

Bottles of champagne popped and sprayed over the crowd. Splashes came from the pool as young legs students jumped in. I made my way into the crowd of dancing bodies.

A few hours of drinking and partying my worries away with a bunch of young college students, I had my friends with a small group that had convinced me to do a keg stand. I handed my phone to a young brunette named Brittany. “Record it.” As I handed her the phone, the Queen rang with a FaceTime call. “Liam” Brittany called, “the QUEEN is calling.” I didn’t hear what she said. I threw my legs in air and sucked on the keg spout as Brittany hit the green button. Riley watched as I chugged cheap beer. The crowd around me chanted “Long Live the King!” as I chugged. “FOR CORDONIA!!” I screamed as I jumped to my feet with my arms in the air.

“Sir it’s the Queen.” Brittany handed my phone to me, her face white as a sheet. “LIAM WERE THE FUCK ARE YOU.” Riley screamed through the phone, her face filled with anger.

“Hey my Queen. I’m somewhere on a beach. I'm way too gone to have you on my mind.” I laughed and hit the end button and threw my phone into the pool.

#theroyalromance #trr #choices #choicesfanfiction #fanfiction #pixelberry #playchoices #theroyalheir #alternateuniverse #livingproof #heartbreak #triggers

45 notes · View notes

sodone-withlife · 3 years

Text

it's a sad song

heavily inspired by Hadestown, will feature lyrics from How Long? and Epic III. thanks to @yourlocalheartbreaker for indulging me and my rants about how much i love this musical

the musical's interpretation of Hades and Persephone's story is perfect for Hotch and Haley, so here is the self-indulgent cliche songfic. as usual, i did little to no proofreading so apologies for any grammatical/spelling errors. it's also more choppy than i'd like, but i really wanted to get it out so i can force myself to work on another angsty Hotch fic

warnings: canonical character death, non-canon character death, suicide

word count: 4k words

(And what has become of the heart of that man, now that the man is king? What has become of the heart of that man, now that he has everything?)

In the grand scheme of things, Hotch was lucky. He was further away from the bomb when it went off and only needed a day and a half in the hospital before he was back at the field office, taking the reins in handling the press and brass that was ready to tear Gideon apart.

The inquisition that followed in Virginia was vicious and by the end, Gideon was on indefinite medical leave and the unit was under the brass’s close scrutiny as Hotch took charge of the unit. As much as the word “temporary” was being parroted around in regards to the new chain of command, it was tacit knowledge that it was a permanent arrangement. A fiasco on the scale of Boston was enough to get an agent fired, and it was only Gideon’s seniority and excellent record that kept him with the bureau.

For Hotch, Boston and the months following only reinforced three lessons that were already hardwired into his brain:

Do not break and do not allow yourself to bleed where others can see, for there are always sharks waiting to tear you apart.

(Give them a piece and they'll take it all Show them a crack and they'll tear down the wall)

Nothing is certain. Even the strongest, the smartest, the most experienced, can fail. Do not fall victim to your own hubris, for it will be your undoing.

(Lend them an ear and the Kingdom will fall The Kingdom will fall for a song)

Death awaits everyone. It takes without mercy or regard for the lives left behind.

He was the new face of the BAU within the bureau, and even his prosecutorial and investigative record could not help protect the team from scrutiny.

So he straightened his spine and hardened his already severely sharp features, throwing himself into work and restoring the unit’s reputation.

Then Hotch came home one day to Haley’s brilliant smile and delighted excitement, and for a moment, he was reminded of the first time he talked to her nearly twenty years ago, when he told her he was quitting his smoking habit.

He had frozen when she first approached him in his dark corner a few weeks after school had resumed in the fall. She had smiled amusedly, his social ineptitude clear as day as he struggled to find words to greet her, to apologize for seeming like a creep over the summer when he first saw her outside on the sports field coaching younger students through vocal warmups before they started rehearsing the musical that was being put on that year, only to completely blank she plopped herself down next to him with her own school bag and lunch.

By the end of that day, he had convinced himself it was only going to be a one-off thing, that she wasn’t going to come back. If he had been honest with himself, part of him, the part that knew so intimately that his mother’s skin only remained free from bruises after his innocent baby brother was born was because his damned father finally had a son he could look at without being reminded of his self-hatred, wished it was.

But then she came back the next day, the day after that, and the day after that, apparently content to sit beside him in silence only broken by periodic comments about the going-ons in her life and the musical. And she continued going to sit next to him, even as he watched as others tried to warn her away, tried to physically guide her away from the bleachers.

What was stranger, he thought, was that she stayed even in spite of his silence, and in spite of his vices—he could tell she didn’t like his habit, but she didn’t comment. She just kept him company.

It was a few weeks into this arrangement, when he saw his still mostly full pack, that he realized that he hadn’t itched for a smoke during lunch for weeks, not while she was there and talking to him in ways he’d never been talked to before.

Sometime later, as the number of cigarettes in the pack remained unchanging, as the pack itself went untouched in his schoolbag, he finally threw it away.

That was the first time Hotch talked to her, to tell her that he’s giving up the habit. That small, but no less proud or bright, smile that spread across her face, he decided, was something he wanted to see again.

Slowly, he started talking more, and on good days, the two made conversation on topics ranging from classes to their favorite books all the way to whatever shenanigans Sean or Jessica was getting into. On other days, on bad days, the silence was never awkward, and she simply kept him company as he struggled to control the storm in his mind.

Those were the days his fingers itched for a cigarette, and those were the days she introduced to him a new book that he would finish within the day. The next day at school, they would once again be stuck in an in-depth conversation about the characters’ flaws and the absurdities of the antagonists, and the itch would be gone.

And it went on like this, even after he threw all caution and his doubts to the wind and asked her out on the first day of their senior year, even as they faced the townspeople’s questions about why such a good girl like Haley Brooks was dating someone of the likes of Aaron Hotchner, who, despite being so coldly brilliant, was just that.

Cold.

Dangerously unfeeling.

Barely human.

But she had seen behind the facade and she knew that he loved with the fierce burning of a thousand suns. She knew how terrified he was of losing everything, that he would be left alone and floundering in a world that was not kind to the lost.

So she stayed, through college, as she went into teaching and him into law, as the final straw came and went and he registered for the Academy and started training, breaking records along the way before finally being assigned to Seattle and quickly climbed his way up the ranks until he caught David Rossi’s keen eye and transferred back to Virginia for the BAU.

Every night, Hotch came home to his wife, the light of his life, and was reminded of why he was working himself to the bone. That day, when he came home a month after Boston for Haley to press a simple rectangular box into his hands, the stakes were raised once again, and he knew he had to fight twice as hard.

Not only for his team, the people he protected so fiercely under that steel mask, but for his son.

Early mornings and late nights became the norm as he threw himself into more and more work, and slowly, the unit began to recover as Spencer Reid and Jennifer Jareau joined the expanding unit, as Gideon returned as a senior agent, and as Elle Greenaway was pulled from Seattle just like he was all those years ago.

Then Jack was born, and he used his accrued vacation time to finally take a month off. Never had he been more terrified than in the moment he first held his son in the delivery room, acutely aware of his tiny size and sheer vulnerability to the dangers of the world.

That night, sleeping in the hospital bed with an exhausted Haley and their child in his arms, he swore to do whatever he could to make the world safer for his family.

His world.

So he tried. He tried and he tried, forcing himself to leave when cases that required their presence in the field came in, forcing himself to take on the heaviest burdens of the job so his team might be protected and his family would be safe.

Maybe a part of him was trying to get him to stop in his tracks and look up, to take a moment so he could clearly see that he was being consumed by the chase.

Maybe if he was strong enough, he could have lifted the weight of his world just enough to change the direction he was going.

But he was scared.

Scared that the moment he looked up, the moment he let go, he would lose everything he was defending.

And so he did not stop—not as Elle was shot in one place she had a right to feel safe in, not as Elle resigned and prevented him from making a terrible choice, not at Reid was suffering in a hell that could only be created by the lure of potent drugs, not as the unit was once again put under scrutiny because of her and Gideon’s actions.

Not even as he was forgetting important appointments, as he was struggling to be present for the important events and early milestones in his son’s life.

Not until he was suspended for two weeks because of the vow he made to himself the moment he stepped into the leadership position to protect the team to the best of his ability.

He stopped, looked up, and put in for a transfer.

But it was too late.

(It's true the earth must die But then the earth comes back to life And the sun just goes on rising)

(I’ve had enough)

The divorce did nothing to lessen the weight on his shoulders or the utter terror he felt at the prospect of stopping.

As more and more cases started piling on his desk, he kept his back bent and head down for hours as he pushed himself to the brink with a mental image of the smile that had not dimmed for twenty years and of the only proof of his humanity at the forefront of his mind.

Every day, he bent lower and lower, but he never let himself crumble, forcing himself to remain Atlas as Kate fell and Morgan nearly followed in New York, Reid and Prentiss in Colorado—

—as JJ and Will brought their first child into the world and he promised to protect her as best as he could so she would not make the same mistakes he did—

—as he wrangled politicians and major corporations in the aftermath of him fulfilling the promise he made to Megan Kane—

—as he called in favor after favor to get to the Vatican so Prentiss could get justice for her friends—

—as he compartmentalized as best he could when he found out about the anthrax attack at a public park he knew Haley and Jack frequented whenever they visit her parents’ house and when Reid got infected—

Then the Reaper returned after ten years of silence and ten years of being a silent spectator in Hotch’s nightmares to become an active participant in his night terrors for months.

But the night Hotch returned to his apartment with the intent of pulling out a glass of scotch and staying on his couch with a book, those dreams that left him nearly paralyzed with fear every night became his reality.

That night, as his team was sleeping in their beds, dead to the world while he was slowly bleeding out from nine stab wounds and floating in and out of consciousness in his own apartment, he only felt fear—fear for the team, fear for Haley, fear for his son.

He faded into unconsciousness with the expectation that that was it, that his hubris finally caught up to him.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Hotch was staring at the dried streak of red on the photo of his whole world and wondering if he had made his way into hell without realizing it.

When Haley and Jack visited him in the hospital, he could barely look at their faces, not wanting the scared and confused expressions they wore to be the last memory he might have of the two people whose lives he sought to protect in throwing himself into work but ended up putting in danger.

Then they were walking away, and he felt his walls slowly building themselves back up to a height and with fortifications that he had not needed since he last wore them in his youth to protect himself against the people in his hometown who had treated him with suspicion and derision.

The months following the day his world was ripped from his weakened grip was its own brand of hell, and more than once he wished he had been less of a coward and let himself look up from his chase.

Soon he was stepping down and ignoring all reason as he threw himself back into work yet again, wearing a facade that his teenage self would have been proud of while desperately trying to fulfill the promise he made Haley, that he would spend the rest of his life making everything up to her.

But of course, life has a funny way of reminding people of the promises they made and the important lessons they have learned at the worst times.

Suddenly, the sound of three gunshots was ripping through his head.

Suddenly, he was forcing himself to look away from Haley’s body, strewn on the floor like a doll with its strings cut, forcing himself to keep it together so he could clear the room.

Suddenly, he was straddling George Foyet and unleashing upon him years of pent-up hurt and anger that he had never allowed himself to feel in favor of remaining strong for the people he loved so fiercely.

Do not break and do not allow yourself to bleed where others can see, for there are always sharks waiting to tear you apart.

Nothing is certain. Even the strongest, the smartest, the most experienced, can fail. Do not fall victim to your own hubris, for it will be your undoing.

Death awaits everyone. It takes without mercy or regard for the lives left behind.

That day, Hotch was reminded of all three statements that he swore to live by after Boston.

Foyet was witness to his unraveling and poked and prodded at him, so much so that he uncovered the rage he inherited from his father and had vowed long ago to never express.

His hubris, his confidence in assumptions that had been made so many times in the past, his confidence that denying the deal that had been offered to him just over a year ago was the right thing to do, cut the threads of over ten people far too early.

Haley was lost to him.

Forever.

But in the years afterward, as Hotch found himself stuck in his head and mentally removed from the team’s present more and more often, he wondered if that was actually the moment that he lost her.

Perhaps the time he had to fly out to Mexico on his birthday weekend was the start and the stress of his suspension the catalyst.

Was he simply too destructive and too desperate to have a happy ending? Was anyone closely associating with him doomed to fall along with him?

Why else was his mother spared from bruising when she was able to focus on raising Sean, a son whose looks did not remind his father of the sheer hatred he felt for himself?

Why else had his brother, who he was estranged from, done so well in life and remained so carefree?

For what other reason could Haley have been murdered than the fact that she was collateral damage in a psychopathic narcissist’s dream to cause him as much pain as possible?

For a short time, Haley’s murder had given Hotch a chance to look up, to free himself from all the responsibilities he had taken on, but it ultimately only served to increase his fear and paranoia. The team had seen the tail end of his unraveling in that house, and he knew it had shaken them to the core, so the walls remained up. Strangers in the street were unsubs, and he was never far away from a weapon if he could help it, always fearing that he would be too late to be of any help.

Four years to the day he locked himself away, he was seeing Haley smiling radiantly at him and wearing the same dress she was wearing when he proposed as she waved him over to sit next to her in an empty movie theater and he was struggling to articulate her beauty.

The large screen in front of them was playing scenes from his life in the years since she was stolen from this life. While her eyes were glued to the projection of his memories, he was left unable to tear his eyes away from her, the woman who had been such an integral part of his life, whose death he would probably never forgive himself for, whose presence in his world he had so desperately missed.

Then he was looking down from the screen when their moment was interrupted by the man who had become a permanent fixture in his night terrors and surprising himself with just how prepared he was to kill again to protect Haley like he had failed to do years ago. It was only Haley’s repeated assurances that finally got him to look back up at the screen, and in the next moment, he was once again experiencing his nightmares in real-time.

His voice cracked as he tried calling out for help, becoming more and more desperate as it became clear no one was coming, and then—

You’re not meant to.

They were suddenly standing face to face in that dark corner of the school where they first met. Hotch froze, rooted to the spot by the uncharacteristically cold expression on Haley’s face.

Where is he?

It wasn’t right, the hard tone, the way she was looking at him as if he were a stranger—

I don’t see Aaron Hotchner in front of me. Where is he?

Then her face softened, and she walked over to sit against the wall, uncaring of the dirt that was gathering on her dress. She stared at him pointedly until he made his way over to her and joined her on the ground. It was with great surprise that he felt her lean onto him, a long-forgotten and now unfamiliar warmth settling over him.

I want to tell you a story.

She told him the story behind an old song, the story about the queen who brought spring and summer with her every time she walked the earth and the king who ruled the shades and the underworld. And though the king loved his queen so desperately, every time she walked the earth while he remained in the underworld, he doubted that she would come back to him, for what could he offer her except his darkness?

So he worked and he threw himself into building a kingdom of metal and glaring bright lights that might compensate for his darkness, but he could not bring himself to look up for fear that he would lose everything the moment he stopped. In his fear, he kept his head low and his back bending, he locked his love away so it wouldn’t be a distraction.

(But what he didn’t know is that what he is defending was already gone.)

When Hotch found himself on the edge of a roof being held against Peter Lewis, who had a gun at his temple, facing the team’s desperate and fearful faces, he could only think about that story Haley had told him and the questions she had sent towards him right before he woke up in the hospital four years prior.

(Where is the treasure inside of your chest? Where is your pleasure? Where is your youth? Where is the man with his arms outstretched to the woman he loves with nothing to lose?)

That was the first time he could remember crying in front of Jack—when the two were clinging to each other in the hospital bed after yet another close call—and he resolved it wouldn’t be the last. It hurt to tear down the walls he had so meticulously built around himself over the course of nearly five decades, but to see the smile that his son inherited from Haley…

He could only lament that he hadn’t started earlier.

Slowly, he rebuilt his world, and it was filled with a warmth that hadn’t been since those golden years between first meeting Haley and becoming a prosecutor.

But then Peter Lewis came and turned his mind against him, forcing him to watch his nightmares come to life. And when he found himself at MPD’s gunpoint with Jack watching, his world cracked.

And in that interrogation room, watching the recording of Lewis’s testimony against him, his world cracked again.

And seeing his son’s withdrawn affect, trying to get him to understand that he wasn’t leaving, that he wouldn’t ever abandon him of his own free will—

Then they were called to Arizona and he found his name carved into a victim’s forehead, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the attacks would become more and more personal.

Favors were called in, calls were made, and all the while Hotch tried to keep Jack as ignorant as possible to the way his world was going up in flames around him. For a moment, it felt like the immediate aftermath of Boston, with all of the non-stop workdays and the scrutiny of the brass falling onto him and the struggle to balance his work and Jack—

And then one day, Jack disappeared in the middle of the school day.

A day later, Rossi and Luke were holding him back, trying to keep him away from the security checkpoint at the entrance of the Academy office buildings that had been taped off as a crime scene. His eyes caught a sudden movement, and all the fight left him when he saw the white sheet being unfolded and lowered over the small body that was on the gurney.

Maybe he was supposed to be more grief-stricken than he felt.

Maybe that’s why the team tip-toed around him in the months afterward—they were waiting for the sand to run out, for the inevitable breakdown that was expected from a man such as him.

And the sand did run out, only it wasn’t where any of them expected.

The cold metal digging into his temple provided him an odd moment of clarity as he thought about the questions he had asked himself—because that wasn’t Haley, she never looked at him with such cruelty, not even when he probably deserved it, it was always that voice in the back of his head, the voice that led him down the road to hell.

That treasure that he kept in his chest—it was buried in the ground with Haley and Jack.

His pleasure, his youth, it was left behind in his past with that first strike he felt from his father.

A smile spread across his face for the first time in months and he closed his eyes, a strange peacefulness settling deep in his bones. He flung himself backward, letting himself become dead weight as he suddenly heard shouts of horror through the sound of the wind rushing around him and Peter Lewis as they fell.

Didn’t you tell me to find the man who was reaching out with nothing to lose?

I found him.

I hope you and Jack waited for me, Haley.

#criminal minds #bau #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner whump #aaron hotchner x haley hotchner #hadestown #tw death #tw character death #tw suicide

15 notes · View notes

sapphirelass · 3 years

Text

What family is all about - Weasley FamilyxWeasley!Sister

Hiiiiiii!!! It’s... been a while. Again. Let’s face it, I’ll never be able to post as often as I’d like. I just don’t like rushing stuff, or posting anything I’m not happy with, so...

Anyhow, I LOVED writing for the Weasley family, and I’ll most likely do it again soon. Bill and Charlie are both underrated characters in my opinion and I had a ton of fun letting them ‘shine’ (despite this being a sort of sad story, but that always seems to be where I end up... XD)

Also, I might have to edit this once more, but it’s late, I have not posted in about two weeks and I just want to go to sleep XD That being said, take it for what it is, and I’ll try to correct any grammatical errors later. Good night! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2800 (they just keep getting longer, don’t they? XD)

Warnings: Light swearing, blood, angst

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s what family is all about

“How big did his tongue get?”

“It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!”

The sound of laughter was heard from the kitchen as Elwira Weasley entered her childhood home. She worked as an arithmancer, and had been stationed at a research-facility in the northern parts of Sweden for the past few years. Her work took up most of her time, but she had just travelled home to go see the quidditch final with her dad, older brother Bill, twin brother Charlie and all their younger siblings.

“It isn’t funny”, her dad shouted. “That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard-muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of muggles, and my own sons-”

“Are just a wee bit too daft to understand that!”

She walked through the door and found her entire family, plus two other people she didn’t know, all sitting or standing around the kitchen table.

“Ellie?!”

Her older brother and twin, with whom she had always been extremely close, both made their way across the room and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

“Blimey! ‘ello Bill, hey Charlie! Long time no see, huh?”

“Certainly!”, their mother exclaimed while pushing the two oldest sons to the side as she tried to get a good look at her grown-up daughter. “Not a single visit since Christmas, Elwira Weasley, we’ve had to do with owls for six months?!”

“Sorry, mum, there’s been a lot of work to do… I thought I’d stay for the rest of the summer though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, dear! Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I’m famished!”

Mrs Weasley went off to get another plate, and Ellie, after greeting everyone and being introduced to Harry and Hermione, took a seat between her dad and youngest brother.

“So Ronald? Had a good term?”

“Err.. Sure? Nothing interesting except for the stuff I wrote to you about, though.”

“Well you’re going into your fourth year now - almost halfway through!” She paused for a moment and turned to her father. “You good dad? You seem a bit… tense?”

Arthur looked up from his plate and sent his daughter a kind smile.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Hosting the world cup comes with a great deal of problems all with the need to be solved. Admittedly, it’s not really part of my job, but the entire ministry becomes quite chaotic when something like that is days away. I’m a bit stressed, that’s all. How are things up in Scandinavia?”

“They’re… somewhat slow to be honest. There’s so much work to do between like October and February, but in the summer it’s mostly filing and other boring bits of paperwork.”

“Elwira?”, Hermione asked. “Sorry, I’m just curious, what is it that you do? Ron’s never told us…”

“That’s probably cause Ron doesn’t understand what I’m doing”, she smirked, “but of course, I work with, and study, arithmancy which, as you might know, is part of what’s called ‘natural magic’.”

“Great!”, mumbled Ron quietly, making sure only his friends and older sister heard. “Hermione, there are four rules in this house, okay? One: Don’t ask Charlie about dragons, Two: Don’t ask Percy about anything, Three: Don’t ask dad about muggles, and Four: Don’t ask Ellie about her job. Break either and you’ll be stuck listening to a five hour lecture.”

Hermione didn’t seem to be bored though, so Ellie ignored her brother’s comment and continued.

“It’s the type of magic that has been studied and worshiped since ancient times and has a very strong connection with nature. The natural phenomena with the strongest affiliation with magic is, while they in themselves have what the muggles would call a ‘scientific explanation’, the northern lights. Meaning it’s only when they’re visible that we can make any significant progress.”

Ellie paused and glanced at the younger girl, trying to see whether she had caught on or not, and was happy when realizing that she had.

“And... “, questioned Hermione, “the northern lights are only visible north of the polar circle and b-”

“Between September and March, exactly… Meaning there’s sadly not that much advanced research that can be done during the rest of the year…”

“It’s still a fascinating subject though. I only started last year, but I love it.”

“I’m glad! At least some people appreciate the wonderful art that is arithmancy, Ronald!”

Ron looked up at the mention of his name and met his sister’s gaze.

“I just don’t find it interesting”, he said.

“Right, because you ha-”

Ellie didn’t get to finish her sentence before being interrupted by her twin brother.

“Hey, Ellie? Must have been fun watching the Nordic versus Germany, huh?”

“Oh shut up, Charlie!”, she groaned while putting her head in her hands. “Holy Merlin…” The Nordic National Quidditch team, of which she had become a huge supporter in the last few years, had suffered a HORRENDOUS loss against Germany, and it had certainly not been a fun night.

Her brother, however, did not shut up, but instead burst out laughing.

“Charlie, it’s not funny!! You should have been there though… You’d have done a much better job than the stand-in seeker we had.”

“What were the results again? 700-20?”

“... 520 actually”

“520 to??”, Bill said mockingly

“You’re idiots both of you… 520-0, happy now?”

Ellie hadn’t realized that everyone else around the table had been listening in on their conversation, but was made aware when Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Arthur began laughing loudly.

“Why is this so funny to everyone? England lost badly too, and neither Romania nor Egypt even qualified to compete?!”

“Yeah...”, began Fred.

“But none of them lost with 520 points.”, finished George, earning himself a furious look from his older sister who stood up and shook her head.

“I’ll go see if mum needs any help…”

~~~~~~

Ellie loved her family, and therefore all her slightly annoying brothers, beyond everything, but being away from them for months and then meeting them all at the same time was TIRING! Having no desire to sleep through the world cup, she decided to go to bed early the night before, and she had barely closed her eyes before she fell asleep...

~~~~~~

“3, 2 ‘shhhh, quiet!”

Ellie took notice of the obnoxiously loud whispers, but it wasn’t enough to fully wake her up.

“We’ve got one more chance, 3, 2, 1, ELLIE!!!!”

She woke up instantly and sent a blast of blue sparks towards her older brother, barely missing him by an inch.

“What ‘ru doing, El? You can’t just go attacking people?!”

He tried to sound angry, but failed miserably, a heartwarming laugh escaping his mouth.

“You bloody idiots?! Why’d you scare me like that? You’re 21 and 23, not five?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Do you remember-”

“Yes, I do!”. She rubbed her eyes slowly, “‘85, look can you two please let me sleep?”

“Sorry, sis”, said Bill. “We’re leaving in half an hour. The kids and dad left ages ago.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late do you? Not when you can cheer for a team that might not loo-”

“Charlie, I swear!”

~~~~~~

The match was fantastic! Ellie would never admit it to her brothers, but it was nice to watch an even one for once. Watching and cheering with her family brought back fond memories of childhood games at the Burrow or Hogwarts, and she realized just how much she had missed actually playing. They stayed up late discussing players and tactics, but eventually their father ushered them all off to bed.

~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

“Ellie??”

She stirred slightly and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.

“Ellie! Damn it, wake up!”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw her twin brother bent above her. The sight made her sigh.

“Charlie”, she mumbled. “We see each other once- or twice a year nowadays, do you really feel obligated to wake me up every time you get the chance?”

“Elwira, I’m serious! Get up!”

This caught her attention. Sure, the twins often used their full names when messing with each other, but it didn’t sound like Charlie was joking at all. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly.

“What’s going on? Wha- Charlie? It’s still dark out? Why’d yo-”

“Ellie, c’mon. We have to help dad. Someone’s attacking the muggles.”

He threw his sister a jacket and pulled her out of the tent. Arthur, Bill and Percy were all waiting outside.

“Dad?”, she asked. “What’s happening? Charlie sai-”

“We’ve got to help the ministry!”, he said while frantically trying to count everyone and make sure they were there. “Fred, George, you make sure the others are safe. Go wait in the woods and I’ll come for you when the situation’s under control. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ellie, let’s see if there’s something we can do.”

Nobody questioned Mr Weasley’s instructions, and immediately left in different directions. There were people everywhere though, and the two directions quickly became three, four, six. Spells and curses were fired left, right and centre and Ellie found herself disarming and stunning at least a few death eaters. There weren’t that many of them, roughly thirty or so, but the insane amount of witches and wizards fleeing the campsite made it difficult to fight back. She couldn’t risk hitting any random bloke.

While duelling a tall man in a black mask, Ellie suddenly stumbled forward, a particularly nasty curse having hit her straight in the back. Falling to the ground felt way more painful than it should have, and her wand landed well beyond her reach. She groaned as a burning pain spread through her lower back, but made an effort to get back up anyways. She did, however, not make it very far before the sharp end of a wand dug into her throat.

The death eater behind her sniggered and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt.

“Well, well, well… Why’re you trying to ruin our fun?”

He stood way too close for comfort and Ellie felt his breath on her neck. She tried to answer, but the curse that was shot at her must have hit its intended target, as all that came out when she opened her mouth was a strained cough and warm blood.

The bloke holding her let out a dark chuckle and threw her to the ground. She could barely keep her eyes open, and a thick, red liquid oozed from the wound in her back.

“Not so high-and-mighty now, are we?”

Ellie lacked the strength to fight back, and to the death eaters that seemed to take all the fun out of the situation. They set off back towards the campsite, leaving Ellie on the ground next to a few pines. She tried her very best to sit up, but ended up passing out…

~~~~~~

“Charlie?!”

Bill ran up to his younger brother and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug.

“Charlie, you okay? We’ve got to get back to the tent. Where’s El?”

“Wha-, I-I thought she was with you?!?”

“What? Last I saw her you were together?”

The brothers shared a lock of utter terror.

“Bill, we have to find her!”

“I know… Dad went to get the kids and Percy’s back in the tent waiting.”

“There’s no time to waste then. Let’s go”

~~~~~~

They had been running around the camping grounds for half an hour, and there was still not a trace of a living soul - let alone the special one they were searching for. At first, they had been shouting her name at the top of their lungs, but were now walking silently. That was, at least, until a shout made both of them turn around.

“Bill! Charlie! What are you doing? I told you to stay in the tent?”

Arthur Weasley came running towards them, with Harry, Ron and Hermione following close behind.

“Dad!”, Charlie shouted. “Have you seen El? We can’t find her?”

“What?”, asked Arthur. “But she was with you, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, at first, but we must have gotten separated… Dad, is that? You know?”

He threw a dark glance at the skull and snake decorating the night sky and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Look, I’ll take Ron, Hermione and Harry back to the tent, and I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes, okay? Don’t go too far. Come on kids!”

~~~~~~

Just as the brothers were about to give up, go back to the clearing, wait for their dad and hopefully find both their sisters safe and sound, Bill noticed something. A glimpse of red in the moonlight…

“Charlie? Get over here fast!”

The younger brother followed Bill’s gaze and immediately set off through the forest when his eyes found a mess of ginger hair sticking out from behind a rather large pine. Bill followed closely behind.

“ELLIE!!!?!!”

Charlie stumbled to his knees and turned his sister around, trying to get a better look at her. He pressed his hand to her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a pulse.

“She’s alive”, he mumbled. “Bill, she’s alive!”

“Good. I- Good.” Bill was lost for words too and mumbled a quick “Let me see”.

He pushed some hair out of her eyes and searched for any clues to what had hit her. He was a curse-breaker after all, but that usually meant working with curses placed on things or places, not people.

“Charlie, I-I don’t know what that is… it’s not a curse I’m familiar with and I’m no healer… You want to carry her?”

“Of course”

Charlie brought his twin into his arms and picked her up, her bruised, limp body threatening to fall unless he held on tight enough. The brothers walked back to the clearing where they’d promised to meet their dad, but kept a close watch on their sister. They would apparate, though at the moment none of them felt like they had much time for ‘Deliberation’. It wasn’t very far anyways.

~~~~~~

“DAD!”, Bill shouted as soon as they noticed Arthur in the clearing where they were supposed to wait.

“Boys! Didn’t I tell you t-”

“We’ll take that later, Dad, you’ve got to help her!?”

Arthur Weasley was speechless, which had most likely never happened before, and Charlie felt so helpless. This was worse than his worst nightmares, and there was nothing he could do. Had it been a wounded dragon, sure, he knew loads about them, but this?

“Dad?”, asked Bill. “What can we do?”

“Right. Er… I suppose there’s no use trying to get you to wait here?”, he said while looking at Charlie who frantically shook his head. “Right, Bill could you go back to Percy and the kids? Fill them in on what happened? Then Charlie and I’ll take Ellie to St Mungos, okay?”

Bill didn’t look too happy with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

---

“Charlie sit down!”

“Fred, he can’t”, said George. “Hey, I think you missed a spot over there, Charles”

“Shut it both of you! Honestly, why am I the only one that’s worried?”

Arthur stood up and put an arm around his son.

“Listen, we’re all worried, but walking back and forth isn’t helping anyone. Just sit for a moment, huh?”

“No, dad, you don’t understand! It’s my fault. We were supposed to stick together! I let her out of my sight...I-”

“Charlie, we all-”

“No, Bill, you don’t get it either, I should-”

“-let your sister sleep for once? That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.”

The entire family turned at once, and found the oldest daughter struggling to sit up.

“EL!!”

Charlie stumbled over and put a hand on his sister’s back, trying to help her up, but unfortunately placing it right where the curse had hit her.

“Auch!”

She moved away from his touch and he pulled his hand back immediately.

“Blimey, Ellie I’m so s-”

“Charlie, it’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

Ellie pulled her brother into a hug, though he was now extremely careful, and she looked over his shoulder at the rest of her family. Her eyes met Bill’s and he sent her a kind smile. She gestured for him to come join them, and eventually the whole family found themselves in a loving group hug. Molly did her very best to wrap her arms around all her children, desperately trying to convince herself that they were all there - safe and sound and loved.

Because if there was one thing the Weasleys had a lot of, it was love and that is, after all, precisely what family is all about.

~ L

Masterlist

#weasley family imagine #bill weasley x sister #charlie weasley x sister #harry potter imagine #weasleys x sister #HP #hp one shot #Goblet of Fire #quidditch #arthur weasley x daughter #creative writing #writing #hp fan fic #harry potter fan fiction #weasley siblings #weasleys x daughter

36 notes · View notes

lovelysugawara · 3 years

Text

Love me Again

Kuroo X Reader Fanfiction//

**y/a = Kuroo Hinari (sorry I don’t use Y/N, i just made up names) **grammatical errors ahead, sorry guys** plot: you and Kuroo are married, but your husband turns cold over you, because of an incident a year ago. Will he once again love you back??? Cont...

Part 6

*Hina’s POV*

I applied makeup as much as possible to hide my already swelling eyes. It covers my eyes right? They won’t notice it right?

I’m fixing my clothes, facing myself in the mirror. I tried to smile, practicing how to push away the sad feeling how messed I am tonight.

Should I go back?

Or should I go home? But what to tell Tetsu later? I had a stomach ache? I had a headache? List of possible excuses are flashing in my mind. But what will our classmates think of me?

Sigh.

I should go back. Yes, gotta face them, be brave Hina!

As I opened the bathroom door, I saw Kenma waiting outside.

“Yo!” Kenma said as he waves a little.

I smiled at him, like he can understand how messed I am right now.

We walked in silence and he didn’t ask me anything. I probably won’t answer either. Because I know I’ll cry.

As we approach the dining area, Kenma suddenly stops and so am I.

“You really want to go back? We can stay outside, I feel stuffy inside. I ate crowds.” he said as he keeps on scrolling on his phone.

Actually, I do hate crowds too. And I hate it even more after what happened.

“I guess I hate crowds too.” I said.

He smiles and we turn our heels and go outside the house.

***

“I got you a beer.” Kenma handed me a can and we both sat on the hood of his red ferrari 488 pista.

“Thanks. By the way, nice car.” i can’t help but admire how sleek the design is.

“Ah hmn.”

We fell silent once again. It’s like we both don’t want to talk.

Being silent like this, makes my mind wander.

Should I talk about it to Kenma?

I fidget my hands while holding my beer. I haven't liked the taste of beer ever since but now, it’s like a sweet soda that I can drink until the last drop.

I’m a mess.

“You can talk.” I suddenly stop thinking after Kenma says those words.

“I’ll listen, and no one can hear you here.”

My tears suddenly swell once again. Fat tears fall from my eyes until to the ground.

I didn’t know that a single sentence like that can bring me to tears.

Kenma takes away the beer in can that I'm gripping, I almost forgot that I'm holding it.

I just realized how heavy my heart is.

And then this suddenly hits me hard, the worst feeling is feeling unwanted by the person you want the most.

“Tetsu must hate me. He doesn’t love me anymore. It’s so hard how to handle these feelings. I’m so hurt that I wanted to just run away and never come back.” I can barely say the words, I keep on crying, my tears won’t stop.

It’s breaking my heart.

“Every night I always pray that Tetsu will come back to his usual self, but days passed and he’s becoming more cold to me.” I keep on talking despite not knowing if Kenma understands me.

“When he’s saying those words, I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, while it was actually breaking me.”

Kenma didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

As I continued to cry and as the hurt feeling started to calm down, he tuck away his phone and sighed.

“Is this one of those times when you want to lie to protect your emotions? Coz I always did that.”

I looked at Kenma who was looking straight ahead.

“Remember the girl I told you before?”

I tried to answer him, but my voice failed due to my excessive crying, so I just nodded.

“I saw her again.” he said.

That’s new, Kenma telling me about the girl he likes way back in high school.

He didn’t pursue her because one of his friends likes her too and he doesn’t want to be in between.

He just moved on.

But we both know he didn’t.

Kenma still likes her. And no one knows who she is.

“I thought she’s happy and having the best time of her life, she’s so precious that’s why she deserves all the good things in the world. But then one day, I saw her crying.” Kenma shifted and stands straight.

He sighs.

“I tried to keep calm, you know. But I got to hide this feeling, that I wanted to hold her and tell her it would be okay. But that shouldn't be me. It should be her husband.”

He then looks at me straight in my eyes.

So, she’s married?

“You know, seeing her marry the love of her life is like losing the best thing that has ever happened to me. But of course it’s my fault in the first place. I let my friend win her. All I did is to accept that I will never have her forever. It’s like accepting that I’m heartbroken and forever wanting her.”

He smiles as he says the last sentence. That friend must be important to him.

I looked down to my hands and I just realized I already stopped crying.

“Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re hurt and I can’t compare that to mine. All I want for you is to accept the feeling that you are hurt. In that, you’ll know what to do and how to handle it. My friend is a bit stupid, but please don’t give up on him.” he once again look at me and he patted my shoulder.

“Want your beer back?” he said as he grabbed it and gave it to me.

“Y-yeah, thank you.”

I once again tasted the awful liquor, and now I didn't appreciate it.

“Thank you Kenma, I guess I let my emotions get ahead of me. It’s just too much. But I’ll try my best not to give up on him.” I smiled.

I look up, and see the clear sky. Kenma laughs a little.”

“Why?” I asked him.

“I’m relieved. You finally smile.” he looked at me, and smiled the sweetest.

***

After that night, we finally went home.

It’s a dead silence the whole time me and Tetsu drive home.

I’m just looking outside the car window, and I just don’t want to talk.

I feel kind of lost because I told Kenma I won't give up, but I’m still not willing to talk to Tetsu about my feelings.

I’m still afraid that he might get mad.

“Hey, Hina.”

I’m shocked after hearing my name, it’s been awhile since he called me like that.

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you busy next week?.”

Next week? Wait, is he asking me that because he remembers my birthday?

“I don’t have any orders for now, so I guess I’m free. W-why? Are we going somewhere?” I excitedly asked him, my heart is skipping a beat. Are we going out of town? I feel so excited.

It’s been awhile since we went on dates. Plus it’s my birthday, we always go out or celebrate it somewhere. I don’t know but I’m happy.

“I’ll need you to fix my things, I’ll be very busy next week. I won’t be home and I might stay for days at the office.”

Oh.

So that's it. Not my birthday huh?

And he will be very busy.

Okay then. “Sure, I’ll prepare your things.”

I didn’t talk again. And I saw him looking at me. But I didn’t look back.

When we arrived, Tetsu didn’t go up with me to our bed room, he go straight to the our bar and drink a little bit I guess.

I just hope he didn’t get a hangover tomorrow.

After I showered, I’m shocked to see him sitting on the bed, shirtless and looking at me while holding a glass of brandy. I have to admit, it’s been a while since I saw him half-naked. I swallowed a lot.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked him as I walked to my cabinet and started to brush my hair.

“I’m waiting for you.” he walks towards me after putting the glass on the bedside table.

Waiting for me?

He’s flushed. Is he drunk?

“Why, do you want me to get you something? Another beer perhaps?” I’m so used to him asking me to get something all this time.

But I’m surprised when his hands touch both of my shoulders and softly massaging it.

He leaned down, and kissed my head.

He then whispers in my ear, “It’s been awhile, right?”

My heart beats really fast and loud.

Are we gonna do it?

He then proceeds on kissing my neck.

“Hmmn, Tetsu.” I can’t help it, his every kiss and his every touch sends electricity to my whole body.

How many months since we last did it?

I didn’t waste time, and I faced him and he kissed me.

That kiss was so deep, I almost forgot how to breath.

I’m glad that I didn’t wear anything under my robe. He can do whatever he wants, he’s my husband and I’m wife after all.

After that deep kiss, my back was already touching the bed. And he’s on top of me.

My body is already exposed to him, and he’s looking at me intently.

I suddenly felt shy and conscious that I covered myself with my hands.

“Don’t stare too much.”

“Why?”

I just close my eyes, I’m so embarrassed.

“Look at me, Hina.”

I open my eyes little by little to see how serious his eyes are.

“You’re very beautiful. And I want to make love with you tonight.”

Is this the effect of how drunk he is?

I don’t know what to feel, but it’s my duty as his wife.

And I really love him so much.

“I miss you, Tetsu.”

I put both of my hands on his shoulders and kissed him.

And he kissed me back.

That night, I gave myself to the person I really love the most.

**A/N updates every FRIDAY..**

I can’t really upload a longer chapter because of the black out here, but I hope you guys enjoy my writing. Thank you.

#kuroo testuro #Kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfic #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu to the top #Kenma Kozume #fanfiction #kuroo tetsurou

45 notes · View notes