#it’s the friendship and family relationships that get me grinning and sobbing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allbark-no-bite · 1 year

Text

who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

————————————————————————

As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

#rafe outer banks #outer banks #obx3 #obx x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron #topper thornton #topper thorton smut #topper thorton imagine #topper x reader #topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper smut

738 notes · View notes

christinesplace · 10 months

Text

SHORT STORY: EMMA

I did it because I liked the way it made me feel.

The transaction pleased me even before the idea became a reality.

The see-saw of our friendship now tipped in my favor- I the one swinging her legs loftily, gripping the handles with sweaty palms. Looking down on her smiling face as she crouched uncomfortably, waiting for her turn to rise.

I did it because 23 years of knowing and loving Emma had taught me that she was regarded as the kinder and uncompromising one, she the one who went the extra mile, she the one to outdo me with birthday surprises, gifts, encouragement. And even when I tried to balance the scales it just somehow didn’t land in the way I wanted. Like the time I got her a pricey bottle of wine I could have sworn she'd mentioned, only to remember weeks later that Malbec wasn’t her favourite. She drank it anyway.

Or the time I got us both tickets for the sky garden and completely forgot she wasn't a huge fan of heights. I took my brother instead.

She had sat with me through long evenings, as I moaned about work, my lovely but predictable husband Alasdair, or our two tweens (her godchildren) and their personal dramas. I occasionally managed to return the favour and assumed the same posture for her as she shared her heartache at yet another broken relationship, another hope deferred, another wasted chapter.

She would come round to mine after work, help me clear the kitchen, chat for a bit with whichever child of mine would reciprocate. Then we would sit, drink, and laugh “ always bloody laughing those two” as my Dad used to say of us. But more and more, the laughs turned to tears from Emma. The wretched admission of loneliness, the restless longing for motherhood.

I would find her gazing blankly at our walls studded with family portraits.

Our collective joy recklessly goading her.

I loved her and in between the chaos of my life I longed to be better, do better, for her.

The idea to save Emma would begin as a germ- something I conceived following a radio interview, then after that, a magazine article.

Two grinning faces, a baby in arms. A cameo of sacrificial love. I sent a link to Emma one sunny afternoon- I remember loitering over the send button for a good while. She called back within the hour, her voice swelling with emotion- great sobs flowing through the lines to me. I felt the waves of gratitude, I made jokes about Alasdair's DNA and was she completely sure she wanted it?! I cried with her, made sure she could tell I was crying too, sharing it with her.

Made sure she knew my arms were open and this gift, his gift, was hers for the taking.

And what would be would be. We would take it step by step, approach the altar together, humble ourselves before the gods and wait with baited breath to see if they were pleased with our offering.

Then came the hurdles. Research (I made a file). Speaking with a clinician. Understanding our rights. I even called a lawyer friend.

Alasdair was unsure to begin with but noticeably did not fly off the handle. There was a chink, I could sense it. I started showering him with online testimonials, a book on the basics.

We watched a movie which was strikingly relatable; it made us cry. And he started to get on board. He was always more altruistic than me, and I had to admit that his growing compassion for Emma and his determination to help was actually really attractive to me.

But really the final nail in the coffin was going round for dinner at hers, just the three of us.

She cooked Alasdair’s favorite lamb Tagine, and had really gone to town. Right down to little bowls of pomegranate seeds, flatbread, his favorite lager. Looking back, she had even gone to town on herself, she looked more radiant, more composed- better than I'd seen her for months.

The grief of her singleness had been slowly desiccating her and she’d kind of started looking older (though I never would have said it to her) she had even been favoring more comfortable, dated clothes that hung off her. Shroud like. But that night was different- she had clearly gone out to get new clothes, had her hair and nails done. She looked good , but more than that, her face carried something beautiful and bright and it was hard to not keep staring at her..................

<<CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD FULL STORY>>

0 notes

existingispetty · 2 years

Text

What it’s like to be the younger sibling of the Kawata twins

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Characters: Nahoya Kawata, Souya Kawta ( platonic )

Type: head cannons, crack, fluff

YOU ARE NOT DATING AND THERE IS NO ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP.

-honestly if you live with this duo life will never be boring ever. - when you were younger Souya would help take care of you while Nahoya would play with you. - As you grew up no matter your gender they trained you to fight. - They would always cook for you and make sure you had every thing you could possibly need. - Sibling fights are really comedic

“No Nahoya you can not beat my teacher up!” You had gotten a F on a project you worked really hard on and Nahoya was pissed. Souya was trying to cheer you up while Nahoya was getting ready to beat someone up. “ To bad! Not like you can stop me!” He grinned. In desperation you tackled him to the ground. You punched him lightly in the stomach. “NO! You will not be beating anyone up!” He was fighting back lightly until Souya pulled you off of him. “Fine! Have it your way! But if this happens again I’m gunna’ beat them into the ground!” He said was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to have his fun but he didn’t feel like pissing you off.

- You had to hang out with them at least once a week. You have no choice. - they make random ramen recipes and ask you try them out. - If your sad or mad expect them to feel the same, your emotions are basically intertwined.

- Souya and Nahoya care about you so they try and keep you out of their gang business. - If you get a partner they will secretly do a background check on them. They won’t actually like say you can’t date them or anything but they’ll give you little tips and hints. - They try not to be to protective, they keep their noses out of your business as much as possible. - You guys all having matching friendship bracelets. - If you think they’re stupid well that’s to bad. Nahoya wont give you a choice. - Nahoyas number one family rule is that your siblings are your best friends. No exceptions. - If you have fluffy hair like theirs expect them to love playing with it. - If your hair is less fluffy they will still enjoy messing with it and if it’s long then expect them to put it up for you. (They have a schedule every other day) - You guys have movie nights every Saturday and alternate who gets to pick the movie. - You better pick a comedy or thriller because we can’t have Souya crying sob and Nahoya hates every other kind of movie - They are always saving up as a team to buy you gifts. - They will always pay attention to the things you want even a small glance towards a shop window will be taken into acount by Souya - the twins especially love showing off your unique talents and skills to their friends.

“Hakkai look at how amazing Y/n is!” Nahoya grinned and tugged at his friends ear, “Nahoya I don’t really care..” the poor guy grumbled..

- Nahoya and Souya actually have funds for your future whether us for a house, car or even college they want you to be successful. - As you become adults no matter how many fights you have these twins will always make sure that they stay in touch with you. - ( please don’t move away it will break their hearts)

#smiley x reader #angry x reader #nahoya x reader #souya x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #smiley x reader fluff #angry x reader fluff #nahoya x reader fluff #souya x reader fluff

127 notes · View notes

dracowars · 3 years

Note

LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

854 notes · View notes

poguestvff · 3 years

Text

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #sarah cameron fluff #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron #obx imagine #john b routledge #pope heyward

183 notes · View notes

i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 3 years

Text

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1

Sometimes you found yourself wondering if you were living the life you should be.

You never had the chance to build a relationship with your mother, a relationship you were desperate for the older you grew. During childbirth due to her age and complications, she passed away. And for that reason, your father couldn't stand the sight of you. You were his second child and a girl no less, there was no need for you or the loss of his beloved wife and Queen.

Although your father died when you were just five years old, the most part of you was glad of it. You had hardly any memories of him, but you were certain you were unhappy in his presence.

Your older brother and Crowned Prince of York New, Tony, reassured you daily that your father did love you but you never quite believed him. Even when Tony had been crowned the King of York New, you were unsure he was telling the truth. You knew your brother loved you, unlike your father, it showed in his brown eyes that he did.

"It's just you and I, Little Princess." Tony smiled lovingly and softly at you as he brushed away your fallen tears.

You sniffled, burying your face in his chest. "A-Are... Are you... you, go-going to sen-send me a-away?" You sobbed.

Tony sat back on the cold stone floor of the throne room and pulled you into his lap. "No, Little Princess, no! You're going nowhere, you hear? I need you by my side. You're my Queen." He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You and me, okay? You and me."

~~~~~~~~~~

Years and years of Tony's rein passed by before you knew it, but Tony kept his word. You were by his side. Even when his advisors or council tried to have him send you away, he made it clear that you were going nowhere until you were 21 years old.

Even when he took under his wing a young orphaned boy, Tony made it clear you were staying put.

The kingdom was in chaos. There had been a attack the castle and surrounding villages, but your armies were stronger, powerful, and mighty. You had been locked away in the highest tower to protect you whilst your brother fought bravely alongside his men. They fought day and night, long into the following day.

By the time word was sent for you to be taken down to the throne room, you were fast asleep.

"Princess Y/N," A soft voice whispered as you were shaken awake.

Your small eyes blinked open and looked upon the face of the guard that had been assigned to looking after you. "Happy?" You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Sir Hogan, or Happy as you called the slightly grumpy man, chuckled softly. "Come, Princess, His Majesty as called for you."

"Tony is safe?" You jumped up, running for the door.

You ran as fast as your little eleven years old legs would take you and didn't stop until you reached the large wooden doors of the throne room. The guards opened the door barely in time for you to dash through them.

"Anthony!"

Tony grinned as he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, hugging you close to him as he held the back of your head. "Little Princess, I'm happy to see you."

You giggled pulling back and looking at his scratched and bruised face. "What took you so long?" You pouted.

Chuckles from the King's closest friends and Knights echoed around the room as the man himself placed you back on the floor. "My apologies, My Queen." He bowed to you making you grin. "I have someone for you to meet."

Your brow knitted together, "Oh?... the head of your enemy?"

More laughs echoed as Tony rolled his eyes as he stood. He held his hand out towards Sir James where a little boy about your age stepped out from behind him. "Princess Y/N, I'd like you to meet Peter... We're going to look after him." He smiled.

Your eyes widened a little. "... He's a boy." You pouted.

Tony nodded, "He is."

"You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

The young boy gasped, shaking his head. "Don't be silly, Princess. Everyone knows you're not allowed to go anywhere."

You scowled at the boy. "I'm never silly..." You folded your arms and looked away.

Sir James rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Definitely your sister." He muttered so only the King could hear.

Tony shot his friend a glare. "Little Princess," Tony knelt in front of you. "This boy's family was... killed. He had no parents already, but his Aunt died tonight. There was no one left to look after him, the village was, practically destroyed... What would you have me do? Send him away? Let him die?"

You let out a sigh, looking back to Peter. "Do you like horses?"

He nodded, "I like swords too."

Your eyes lit up. "What about bow and arrows?"

Peter nodded, "I'm the best." He said triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, "You haven't seen me, yet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

~~~~~~~~~~

As the years rolled on, your friendship and bond with Peter only grew, as did the council's worries. They decided it was time Tony took a wife and gave the kingdom a Queen once more. Another feeble attempt of them trying to have you sent away. 'It's time you had an heir, there's no need to have the Princess here.' And as he always would do, Tony told them no. You were still the rightful heir to the throne whilst he had no Son and Heir.

You loathed this part of the evening, where one man tried to up the other with gifts, all to impress the King and make himself look superior to others.

Tony leaned over the side of his throne and nudged you, "Look happy, it's your... cow statue, birthday gift." He mocked the gift currently being presented to you, just as bored as you were by the process.

You lowered your face towards your lap and bit back your giggle.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Steven of Brook," The court announcer introduced the next person to present their birthday gift to you.

"King Anthony, Queen Virginia," The blond-haired Prince bowed before you.

"Prince Steven," The King and Queen greeted their friend, happy to see him after so long.

"How are you this evening, old friend?" Tony smiled.

Prince Steven smiled in return, "Very well, thank you, Your Majesty. How are you?"

Tony nodded, "About ready for another drink," He breathed out glancing down to his empty cup.

You let out a small snicker trying to keep up your ladylike facade, knowing Queen Virginia or Pepper as she was known to her close family, would scold you for being improper.

Prince Steven turned his gaze to you and bowed again, "Princess, may I say you're looking breathtakingly beautiful tonight," He teased, knowing how flustered you could get.

You smiled through your blush. "You do flatter me, Prince Steven."

He let out a soft chuckle. "May I present to you my gift?"

"You may,"

Prince Steven nodded and turned his attention to the servant waiting patiently. He took a velvet square box from the young boy and approached you. "Happy Birthday, Princess." He smiled softly at you as he handed you a box and took your hand in his and bowed to you. "I hope you find it as beautiful as I do. My only fear is, your beauty will outshine and render it ugly." He pressed his lips against your knuckles and made you blush once more.

"You're engaged, remember, Prince Steven," Tony teased, glancing over to the brunette woman who was watching the interaction like a hawk.

"Anthony," Queen Virginia scolded your brother from his other side, putting a smile on your face.

"Please ignore my brother, Your Highness... Fool," You hissed playfully at the King beside you, making him chuckle.

Prince Steven stepped back with his hands up to show no hard feelings. "I know what His Majesty can be like, Princess." He chuckled softly, "Please, open your gift, and ignore his Royal Majesty the fool." Prince Steven grinned mischievously.

Tony scoffed dramatically, making you giggle before you opened the velvet box carefully and immediately gasped, "Oh, my," You ran your fingers over the beautiful necklace that laid inside.

"Prince Steven, this is most beautiful." You smiled, memories of your first time in Brook rushing back to you.

Prince Steven let out an audible sigh of relief. "Is it the same colour? As the sea in Brook."

You nodded, looking up to meet his waiting gaze. "...Yes. Thank you,"

Prince Steven smiled, "You're welcome, Princess. I'll allow you to get back to your other guests." He bowed again, "Happy 16th Birthday, Princess," He whispered before he left to be by his fiance's side.

The guests continued to present their gifts to you and the King, and although they were all unique and beautiful in their own way none were as beautiful and meaningful as Prince Steven's.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Brock of Lower East,"

Your blood ran cold and the great hall fell silent at the mention of that man's name. The dark-haired Prince smirked as he approached you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Your Majesties," He bowed (if that's what you could call it) to your King and turned his attention to you. "How beautiful you look tonight, Princess Y/N."

You held your head high keeping your gaze fixed ahead of you. "Thank you,"

Prince Brock turned his attention to Tony, "I do hope you've taken my request into consideration, Your Majesty."

Tony's brow knitted together. "There's no need, Prince Brock. My sister is not of age yet and, I'm sorry to say this but you are not who I intend for her to marry."

You gasped loudly drawing the attention of those closest to you, turning in your throne to gape at your brother. "Tony, please-"

He held his hand up to silence you, "Present your gift to the Princess, and we'll discuss no more of this business."

"Very well." Prince Brock nodded with a tightly set jaw as he clicked his fingers at the servant. He snatched the much smaller box from the shaking boy's hands. "It seems somewhat pointless now." He stepped forwards and placed the box in your hands, letting his fingers graze yours. "But, I will buy you a thousand and more if it means you becoming my wife."

"I said, enough!" Tony slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne, it echoed around the silent hall.

"Please, my love," Queen Virginia placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm to calm him.

You scowled down at the box, opening it to find a hideous engagement ring. "I can not accept this-"

"You must. It is your birthday gift... nothing more, thanks to your King."

"Thank you, Prince Brock," You thanked him before Tony could speak, sensing he would most likely order his head to be off or something to that effect. You sighed as you closed the box up, handing it back to the servant. You smiled kindly at him and thanked him.

Prince Brock eyed you before glancing over to where Prince Steven was stood with his fiance and his trusted best friend and Knight, Sir James Barnes. "You know, it's almost unfortunate, you being here tonight."

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Prince Brock. How can my 16th birthday celebrations be unfortunate?" You scowled at the man.

"Well... on one hand, we are graced with your ever-growing beauty and charm, but if it was not for the unfortunate death of your father and King, brought on by those... we shall not mention, you would not be sat where you are." He smirked triumphantly as you visibly paled at the mention of your father.

You felt Tony shift beside you and out the corner of your eye, you saw Sir James begin to disappear away from prying eyes. Anger boiled up inside you, "HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" You shouted and raised to your feet before Tony could stop you. Silence fell over the court as you glared daggers at the prince before you. "How dare you, speak of my father? How dare you show my family and I disrespect, in our own Castle, our own Kingdom.

"The past is the past, Prince Brock, and we do not judge others today by the actions and misunderstandings of others then," You turned and moved over to the servant snatching the Prince's gift back. "If you can not show my family and I the respect we deserve and can only continue to spit evil among our celebrations then I must ask you to leave, Prince Brock, and take your unwanted gift back." You heavily dropped it into his hand.

Silence resumed throughout the great hall as King Anthony stood from his throne and stood behind you. "You heard the Princess, Prince Brock. Leave." He nodded his head towards nearby guards. "Please escort Prince Brock out of the Castle and our Kingdom." Tony placed his hand on your shoulder as the Prince was removed.

"You'll regret this, Stark!"

Once Prince Brock had been removed, you moved over to where Sir James Barnes was stood with Prince Steven and his fiance, hoping the celebrations could continue.

"Sir James, would you care to dance?" You smiled kindly up at him.

Sir James began to blush and glanced to Prince Steven who was being tugged closer by his fiance. "Shouldn't you be asking one of the princes to dance, Your Highness?"

"There'll be plenty of time for that, Sir James. But for now, I would like to dance with a kind man, I hope will be a good friend of mine one day." You smiled.

Sir James began to grin before he nudged Prince Steven's side. "Tough luck, Princey." He jabbed at the blond prince making you smile.

Prince Steven chuckled, "Have fun, Bucky." Prince Steven smiled warmly at you with a nod. "Princess,"

You nodded, "Prince Steven," You looked to his fiance with a faux smile, "Princess Margret."

Sir James lead you into the middle of the crowd as the music began to play, and slowly the two of you began to move together.

The two of you danced in comfortable silence until Sir James cleared his throat, "I must thank you for your kind and brave words, Your Highness." Sir James whispered.

"They were the truth, Sir James."

He nodded, "Still. I know what my father did all those years ago, isn't the easiest thing to forgive."

You shook your head. "But it doesn't reflect the person you are." You smiled up at him. "You're a good man, Sir James... a far better man than Prince Brock." You reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before excusing yourself and left through the french windows with Peter.

"Buck?" Prince Steven approached the brunet knight. "Everything okay?"

Sir James nodded and turned to face his best friend and Prince of Brook. "More than, Your Highness."

"You seem to be getting on very well with the Princess, James." Princess Margret spoke from beside her fiance with a hidden look.

Sir James nodded, "She's a very kind young princess, Your Highness."

Prince Steven nodded, "That she is, Bucky." He smiled as he turned to watch you walk out of sight into the gardens.

#steve rogers #king steve rogers #Medieval au #King Steve Rogers x Princess reader #Knight Bucky Barnes #Knight Sam Wilson #King Tony Stark #Medieval avengers

402 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

This may be a bit of a different request, and you may have already done this, but could I ask for Levi comforting a reader after a panic attack...I've had a rough few days and I always seem to have a worse panic attack after the first one... I adore your writing, and it always makes me feel a bit better! 💗

“look at me y/n, you’re with me, you’ll be okay”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: mentions of violence, panic attack, language, fluff and comfort

word count: 2100+

a/n: hi im so sorry this is coming out really late but thank you for the support and i hope you’re doing better, if you ever want to talk to my messages are always open for anything

summary: in which you have a panic attack after a long scouting mission and levi comes and comforts you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Your hands trembled under the dim light that you carried, you could almost see the light shake but didn’t dare surpress the movement. You were an apart of the front line when on expeditions and had gone on your own squad mission, you were only the second in command. But then it had taken a lot more of a toll on you, outside the walls for longer than the normal one-day expeditions. The three days outside with those who had been in your squad.

But here you were on your single horse, the only light from you, your came up high. The only benefit of nightfall was how easily it was to get past unnoticed. You had seen titans around you fast asleep, being as quiet as you could.

Inside though, your heart raced, a shortness of breath came from you. You tried to steady it, you did, but you were alone ten minutes away from the walls. Ten minutes away from humanity, you wouldn’t be alone, you’d be protected. You’d be safe.

The flashes of blood scattered across the trees; you had been laughing with the squad a mere day ago. Now you had left there bodies, left them alone, your breathing hitched, hearing the light dim even more. The coldness swept past you, the faces of half-eaten comrades through your vision before the supressed tears fell down your face.

Your own left arm had been bandaged up; you remember the captain having bandaged you up. His grin wide at the sight of you both joking along beside a campfire. Then his face, the half-eaten face in front of you, there screams tormented your ears.

It filled your insides, screaming and shouts for help. They say that to die a scout was honourable, but you watched them die, watched them plea and bargain, it wasn’t honourable, it wasn’t dignified. It was torturous and pitiful. You tried to wipe your eyes but couldn’t, letting it seep down your face.

Seeing the wall rose, you dropped the waved the light with your last strength. Seeing the doors open, your horse trotted through, seeing men come up to you. “They’re inside.” Trost had housed the scouts for a while now and the men helping you down.

You had no words to them; you didn’t speak only taking your bandaged arm and going to where Erwin and the other captains were. The men who had helped asked where everybody else was, but you were silent, feeling nausea and the tears dripping into your sweat.

All the scouts were together all eating the same gruel it was every other day. The captains and commander sitting on their own table. You saw them, your face flushed and your breathing heavy, you had still been carrying the light, but at the sound of dropping it. The shattering caused the dead silence all eyes turning to you at the door.

Your blood covered fingers, the cut on your cheek, the tears and sweat dripping from your face. Your bandaged arm, your heavy breathing and trembling, it had become too much for you. You only joined to be with your friend, to make sure they would always be safe. But you watched them die, watched them scream and shout as the Titan bit into them, savouring them, you had broken the promise.

“Y/n.” Erwin spoke standing up, he began to walk past everybody, Hanje and Levi following.

You choked on your words but still spoke, “we…we got a…attacked and…and I was the only one who’s…survived.” On your final words the tears welled from your face, you breath quickening, you fell to the ground, your bloody hands up to your face. You sobbed out loud, breaking the silence, Levi came up to you walking past Erwin who was about to talk himself, he bent down to reach your fragile body.

You rocked back and forth, the screams filling your ears, all you could feel, could see was them being eaten. See how your captain had pushed you away from being eaten, you should’ve died, not him. Levi grabbed your shoulder bringing your body into his own, “look at me Y/n, you’re with me, you’ll be okay.”

“L…Levi.” You stuttered but didn’t meet his gaze.

His arms felt soft against your rough shell, going around your bloodied body, you felt sick to the stomach, continuing to rock back and forth with all the memories coming through you. He touched your face softly, a movement that you didn’t expect. He could almost feel your shaky breath hit his skin, he didn’t speak moving his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

He held you close, you could hear him whisper comforts into your ear, staying in his arms. It was comfort he had never given to you, the relationship with him being professional and even with your love for the man. He didn’t love you; this was friendship, this was his comforting a friend and you realised the only person you had left was Levi, the only person who you could call family was Levi.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” It was a question, it wasn’t a command it wasn’t an order, he wanted you to feel safe.

You nodded still trembling, your limbs trembled as you stood up, Levi grabbing your waist to let you lean against him. “Hanje go help.” Erwin ordered not knowing how to react, of course he knew death was always going to happen.

He knew you had experience with death before, but you’d be alone for who knows how long, you’d watched people who you called family die in front of you and worst of all. Worst of fucking all was the strongest soldier he had met became vulnerable in a matter of minutes.

“Commander Erwin we want to go help Y/n.” Eren and his group came up to the man, Erwin didn’t know what to say instead looking at the kids.

“She needs some time.” He spoke before following Hanje and Levi who kept you upright in their arms.

Levi ran a bath for you, you shivered under the coldness. Having only felt it as you stripped the clock off and were left in your bloody clothes, “I’ll go get you some new clothes.” Hanje spoke and you tried to thank her, but you couldn’t speak.

Memories filled through you, smiling at Levi and Hanje a couple days ago, how they gave the same don’t die comment. Your friends did, you had nobody, Levi turned around, an indication for you to strip, you did so and head the water splash as your body was in it. You didn’t care if he saw, nothing mattered anymore, if you let yourself go under the water, who cared.

The panic that had set in and you had stopped trembling as much, but still Levi saw you look outside. Look outside the walls, he knew you were thinking of the corpses that you had left alone. “Y/n.”

You turned to see him, he sat on the stool beside the bath. Grabbing your arm, he rubbed the dirt away, rubbed any blood that had situated on your body. “Levi, I couldn’t save them.” Your voice had become normal, but he could see the tears, see how you breath was still heavy and the faint look that captured your eyes.

“Don’t do this.” He moved to your face, your hair tied, his fingers moved to the cut, it wasn’t deep and would scar over but it was filled with mud and soot. He rubbed it gently, your eyes on his, watching every single thing he did.

“It should’ve been me.” Levi let go of your face glaring at you.

He wasn’t calm anymore, he felt for you of course he did but the words that would come out of his mouth would be a reality check, “no, I’m grateful that you survived because if you died, if you fucking died Y/n, I don’t know what I’d do.”

It was selfish, but since you had spoken the words of being the only survivor, he had been grateful, grateful you had survived. “Levi, don’t say…”

He interrupted you, “don’t what? If you died Y/n…”

He stopped have spoken too much, he regained his normal dull composure, grabbing your other arm and scrubbing the dirt away. “I’m sorry.”

Ignoring the apology, Hanje came back with the clothes, allowing you to get out and change into the fresh survey corps uniform. You smelled fresh and anew, your arm being re wrapped by Hanje as you waited for Erwin.

Even after your panic attack when riding outside the walls and in front of Levi, the thoughts still filled you and your legs shook underneath. “Y/n.” Erwin’s voice fell through the door, his gentle knock making you nod to Hanje to speak.

“Come in.” She spoke standing up for Erwin to take her spot in front of you.

Levi stood beside the window, looking outside, he admired the stars and sky. He hadn’t been there to protect, he hadn’t saved you, he had let you suffer all alone, in the cold and dark. It was a pit of regret and guilt to now have been there for you.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Erwin asked softly.

There voices had become a lot softer trying to be tentative of your fragility, you took in a sharp breathe, fingers trembling, “I…it was two days ago.” You paused looking at your fingers, Levi noticed and came up to you. He grabbed your hands and held them between his fingers, rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand. He nodded for you to continue, it brought some relief and you looked directly into Erwin’s eyes.

You spoke the events that occurred, how you had been camping outside and before you knew it a hoard of titans had come. How there was too many and by the end of the say half of your squad had gotten murdered. It was how you had gotten injured, the squad members left had decided to head back and whilst going back by horse, you encountered another hoard of titans in the morning. The graphic detail of how your friend had gotten eaten and how your captain had pushed you aside to not get killed had created silence in the room.

“I’d been riding since the afternoon, it was…was hard to make sure Titans didn’t see me.” It was your final words, and Levi moved to wipe the stray tear from your eye. He understood more after hearing the story, why you had said it should’ve been you. But mostly he knew he’d have to protect you; he didn’t care you were his only priority and responsibility now.

“We’ll send some men to find their bodies.” Erwin softly brushed your shoulder with his palm, you nodded at him. “Get some rest Y/n.”

You watched him leave but just as him and Hanje were about to leave you spoke, “Erwin.”

He stopped looking at you, you could see the sympathy he had in his eyes, but you needed to say this before anything else, “I’m going on the next expedition.”

Levi was about to speak to stop you, but Erwin spoke up, “if that’s what you want.”

You nodded and he left swiftly, Hanje following. It was dead silent Levi having removed his hands from yours and pacing back and forth. “You can’t go on the expedition.”

“I don’t care Levi, I’m going, who the hell cares if I die? I have nobody, me dying won…” You had clearly disregarded his previous words, when listening you had assumed it all too be friendly and that he was just saying it to be nice.

His interruption made his emotionless face look sterner and angrier, “it’ll affect me, I’d rather die then let you die for your stupid suicide mission.”

It stung but you didn’t speak, only looking down, ��I’m not speaking about this, leave.” You moved towards the bed, about to lie down to think and maybe get some rest.

“Y/n, if you die then I’ll have nobody.” It was a whisper, but you heard it, meeting his gaze.

You sat on the bed, he moved closer to you, his hands moving to cup your face, “I need to go.”

“I know, I want to protect you.” You didn’t speak leaning against his shoulder, his arm around your waist bringing you warmth.

You looked out the window, you understood him, you couldn’t protect your friend but maybe you and Levi could protect each other. You understood that the comfort he had brought through your panic attack was a lot more than any friend would do. Staying in his arms, the way his hands moved up and down your sides. In a soft whisper he heard the four words he had dreamt of hearing, “I love you, Levi.”

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens

588 notes · View notes

marvelfansince08love · 3 years

Note

hi laurennnn. how about soft platonic!wandanat (like wanda and nat are in a relationship, reader isn't) taking care of the reader (who they've kinda taken under their wing) after she did something really stupid on a mission? i hope that makes sense

Happy WandaNat Wednesday!!!

Title: Breathing Again

Word count: 3k

Pairing: WandaNat x Platonic!Reader

Warning: a little sad, some fluff

A/N: Minimal editing so I do apologise! Mysh (mouse) Myshka (little mouse)

Gif owner @diegclila <3

For Alexis x @canarypoint

Breathing Again

The first thing you noticed was the pain, that sore aching pain that reached all over your body as you tried to adjust to the bright light as you awake, groaning at the sensitivity of your eyes that stare back at the white light. Your gaze flickers around the dark room trying to gather your senses, blurry outlines begin to focus as you notice a familiar figure curled up on the chair beside the bed you’re lying on. You swallow and lick at your dried lips.

“Wanda,” your voice rasped and croaked as you gained the tired witch’s attention watching her rouse to the sound of your voice. She moves quickly from her position once she notices you awake, her hands tentatively brushing your hair from your face as green eyes take in the almost healed bruises and scrapes that scatter across your skin.

“Shh sweetheart, here drink some water.” she instructs softly, her voice hushed as she moves to grab you a glass of water from the side table. She tilts the glass to your lips slowly allowing you to take in the cold liquid sighing in relief as you quench your dying thirst. Turning your head you watch her frantically move towards the door calling for someone as you frown still unsure of your whereabouts, she rushes back over to you and smiles reassuringly.

“What happened to me?” you ask, the events still a blur as you try to remember pieces of the mission. It was supposed to be a simple rescue job until an old rival of Tony’s decided to show up and stir up trouble causing the mission to go sideways, a second explosion had gone off close to where you were helping civilians escape out of the wreckage from the first hit unaware of the possibility of a second wave of explosions.

Wanda sits on the edge of the bed, her hand rubbing soothing strokes across your bicep. Watery eyes lock onto your own as you see her struggle to gather her words, before her gaze drops to her lap.

“You were almost out of the building when the second explosion went off, Nat tried to get to you she was screaming for you to retreat but you were too stubborn for your own good,” she pauses, as she raises a scolding eyebrow at you but her eyes remain soft and full of relief at seeing you awake and breathing; living. “There was a cry for help just south of the building and as you got them out the explosion hit and you- you tried to use your powers to deflect the force but you weren’t prepared for it and-” a sob escapes from her throat as you struggle to sit upright tilting your head to gain her attention again.

“I’m okay Wanda,” your words make her look up almost instantly, a small sad smile gracing her lips.

“Barely, we were told that your chances of coming around-” “Y/N!” Tony’s voice cuts off Wanda’s as he races in with a woman dressed in a white lab coat, her badge indicating her profession. She moves swiftly towards you shining a bright light in both of your eyes making you squint at the harshness, your body still coming around from what feels like a million years of slumber.

“Nice to see that you’ve come around, Y/N. I’m Doctor Jones, I’ve been looking after you while you’ve been here. Do you know where you are?” she asks, as if routine. “I uh- yeah. The hospital right?” you mumble, not overly confident with your answer. She smiles kindly at you as she nods in confirmation.

“That’s right and while we have been able to keep you stable, you’ve been through some major trauma alright so I need you to take it easy for me while we go through some routine check ups okay? Do you remember what happened to you?” she continues to ask questions as she checks over your vitals, moving with such ease and experience as Tony remains quiet next to her but still hovers close to the good doctor who seems to be irritated by his lack of personal space. From the expression on her face this isn’t the first time Tony’s been pestering her while you’ve been out, you frown at that thought.

“How long have I been out for?” your question makes them freeze, as Doctor Jones for the first time pauses as she writes on your chart, eyes flicker from one another. Wanda licks her lips as she looks away seeming to struggle with answering your question making you turn your attention to Tony. His shoulders slack as he stands a few inches away biting at his thumb nail.

“Two months and three days,” his words make your eyes widen as the machine next to you begins to bleep loud and fast.

“Two months!” you exclaim, your breathing becoming more erratic as you feel your chest tighten. Wanda seems to finally snap out of her tortured daydream as she focuses on your anxious form, her lips shushing you, her hands cupping your jaw as her thumbs brush across your cheekbones.

“Y/N. Listen to me, I need you to calm down okay?” she instructs, taking a deep breath in silently asking you to mimic her actions. A familiar routine that you’ve both done ever since your first anxiety attack after your first mission with the team. Her soothing efforts seem to work as Doctor Jones informs you that all your vitals seem to be all stable and that once you have been medically reviewed, you can be discharged home back to Avengers Tower.

Once the Doctor had left, Tony finally joined you and Wanda by the bedside sitting at the foot of the hospital bed. The pair caught you up on the past two months reassuring you that not a lot had changed, the lack of Natasha’s name didn’t go unnoticed by yourself though.

“Wait, what happened to Natasha?” the two share a look at the mention of the redhead assassin. Tony pats your leg and smiles softly.

“She’s fine, Kid.” he reassures, but Wanda’s distant look does nothing to calm your worries.

Since joining the Avengers you have become close to the assassin and the witch that sits beside you. The two had been dating for a while before you joined the team and became somewhat like mother’s to you, your mentors. Peter has Tony and you, well you had the two most badass women on your side. Moving away from your parents to live with the Avenger’s had been difficult at first, still trying to control your powers as well finding a way to fit into an already established team was hard but Natasha had been nice and warm towards you, teaching you the basics in hand to hand combat as well as weapons training while Wanda had taken you under her wing in the power’s department, having some power over certain elements yourself made you bond instantly with the witch. You had never been close to your parents, your abilities instantly labelling you as an outsider to them and the rest of your family but since being with the Avengers and having Natasha and Wanda look out for you, you finally felt a sense of belonging.

Biting your lip, you nod trying to convince yourself of his words.

***

Walking slowly into the shared common room, you allow Wanda to guide you gently into the living room space where some of the team wait impatiently for you. Peter spots you first, smiling brightly as he takes in your tired form. Jogging over to you, he gently takes you into his arms and squeezes lightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers, you squeeze your eyes shut to hold back on the tears. The realisation of just how close you were to losing your life becoming more prominent as you squeeze him back ignoring the pain that creeps up around your body at the tight pressure.

“Me too,” you whisper back, before pulling away and greeting the others. Your heart tightens as the emotions from the last two days start to surface as Thor is last to greet you, his gentleness surprising you at the usually strong and mighty God who doesn’t realise his own strength at times. As they step away to give you some room to settle down on the sofa, you can’t help but look around for the certain redhead. Wanda notices your search as she comes to sit next to you, the guys moving towards the kitchen to help prepare for dinner which only heightens your suspicions knowing that Steve is the only one allowed to cook in the kitchen after the last incident that involved the microwave, pop-tarts and Thor.

“Wanda, is Nat okay with me? Doesn’t she want to see me?” your voice leaving her no room to dodge your questions. She brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear as she searches for the right words.

“Nat is fine, Mysh. Of course she wants to see you, she just- after the doctor told us that you might not make it through, Nat kinda retreated into herself. She would sit for hours at your bedside, I was the only one besides Clint who could get her to eat and sleep. I only managed to convince her to come back here a few days before you woke to get some proper rest,” she pauses, as tears build in her eyes. “Y/N, you have to understand one thing about Natasha. She has always been taught that love is for children, that in itself closed her off to any kind of personal relationships with others even after leaving the red room. Since meeting Clint and then being here with us, she’s been able to let go of that old notion and genuinely open up to the possible idea of love and friendship, to me, to the team, including you, Little Mouse.” she grins as she calls you the familiar nickname that Nat gave you after you started training with her.

“Is she here? I’d like to talk to her,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the need to apologize to her for not listening to her during that mission but most of all needing to reassure her and see her for yourself. Wanda nods as she leans forward pressing a kiss to your temple.

“She’ll be in your room,” she informs you, a knowing look passes through her green eyes as you nod. You stand and head for the elevator that leads to the private quarters before pausing and quickly moving back to Wanda briefly wrapping your arms around her chest from behind leaning your head against hers for a moment.

“Thank you for looking after me,” you mumble, she pats your arms and smiles.

“Go and see Nat,” are her only words, making you salute her mockingly as she laughs.

***

Taking a deep breath in you allow yourself a moment as you take in the familiar hallway to your bedroom, observing the picture frames on the wall. Frames showing yourself with the couple on your birthday, cooking with Wanda and Peter in the kitchen and one from your latest sleepover with the two, face masks in place as you pull silly faces. You notice your bedroom door ajar as you peek through the gap noticing Natasha’s figure curled up on your bed as her shoulders remain rigid and stiff as she faces away from you.

“Wan, I’m not in the mood-”

“It’s me,” you cut in, watching her become tense at the sound of your voice. She quickly sits up from your bed and faces you, her face stoic as her blue eyes take in your form. Moving further into the room you decide to crouch in front of her placing your hands onto her knees.

“It’s me Nat, I’m home.” you whisper, fidgeting in place as your nervousness begins to take over. Her hands tentatively reach your cheeks cupping your jaw as her eyes assess the fading bruises.

“I am so angry with you,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her words as fear remains evident in her voice. Your lips twitch as tears begin to build in your eyes.

“I know and I’m so sorry I should have listened to you-”

“Damn straight you should have. Do you know how scared I was when I finally got to you? You were so pale and you wouldn’t wake-,” she trails off, as she continues to take in your face.

“Natasha I know I scared you-”

“Scared me?! I have never been so terrified in my life Y/N, do you understand how important you are to this team, to Wanda.. To me! I know how frightened your parents were when we told them, they threatened to have you transferred to the hospital back at home and for us to never see you again.” you try to interrupt to explain that you understood but she continues, the emotions from the last two months finally surfacing.

“You may not realise this, but we care about you... so much, Y/N. At first I was so angry with you for being so darn stubborn and not listening to me,” she confesses, standing to her feet as she begins to pace. You stand as well stepping back to allow her room to let out her frustrations folding your arms across your stomach.

“Nat, I understand how reckless I was okay? I’m sorry I don't know what else to say right now,” you murmur, suddenly regretting the decision to do this now as you begin to feel lightheaded. The day’s events slowly creep up on top of you as you close your eyes for a second trying to steady yourself. Natasha seems to notice your swaying state and reaches forward wrapping a protective arm around your waist, guiding you towards the bed.

“Are you okay, Myshka?” she asks, worry evident in her voice. “Lie down,” she instructs softly, making sure the pillows are plumped behind your head. You look up shyly at her feeling the dizzy spell surpass slightly.

“Will you stay with me? Since I pretty much slept for two months I’m scared that when I close my eyes I’ll-”

“I know, Kid. Scoot over then,” she bumps her elbow against your shoulder as she comes to lie next to you. Facing each other, you can see the conflict pass through her blue eyes as she brushes a thumb across your cheek, capturing an escaped tear.

“If you need to sleep, you can. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” she promises, watching as your eyes slowly start to close on command. Natasha continues to watch as your lashes flutter, a small smile spreading across her lips.

“How is she?” Wanda’s voice whispers from the doorway, Nat turns her head towards her girlfriend, her eyes softening.

“She was feeling a little woozy but I think she just needed some rest,” she explains, Wanda moves forwards and kisses Natasha briefly keeping her head close to the redhead for a moment.

“And how are you, my darling?” Natasha shrugs, turning to face you again as Wanda moves to lie on your other side smiling warmly as you seek her out even in your sleep, cuddling into her side.

“I’m doing okay, just knowing she’s here and safe it’s like I can suddenly breath again you know.” Wanda nods understanding her brief sense of loss and grief for you, the uncertainty of whether you would wake again still lingering. Natasha’s eyes rest upon your sleeping form as she continues to open up to the witch.

“I may not have the privilege of carrying a child but she gives me hope, that I can be that mother figure and not screw it up with my own past traumas,” Wanda smiles, as she glances down at you.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Just so you know she is grounded for the next three years,” Natasha’s vows, although the teasing glint in her eyes shows she only half means it, making Wanda chuckle.

“I think you’ll have to get in line because her parents are on their way here,” Wanda informs, squealing as you suddenly sit upright, eyes wide at the mention of your parents.

“Shit! My parents!” you exclaims, groaning as you hold the side of your head feeling a sudden headache coming on, Wanda pats your back in sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Mysh. We’ve got your back,”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat mutters, grumpily. You turn your head to face her, a pout in place knowing it’s never a good sign when Natasha sides with your parents.

“Have already told you how sorry I am?” you ask, innocently making Nat grin mischievously.

Two weeks later

“One large pizza for the still grounded teenager,” Wanda teases, as she enters her shared living room with Natasha holding two boxes of pizza.

You turn your head from your sitting position on the floor as the smell hits your nose, wiggling your fingers towards them as you reach out for the top box. Sticking your tongue out at the avenger for her comment, you open up the lid and take a big sniff humming in delight at the greasy goodness.

“I’m going to forgive you for that comment. The pizza saved you this time, Maximoff,” you warn jokingly at the brunette as Natasha comes to sit next to you on the floor, her back leaning against the sofa. Wanda places a few slices onto her plate before curling up onto the single seat, her eyes full of fondness as she takes you both in, watching as you slap Nat’s hand away from your pizza slices.

“You guys know we have a couch you can sit on, right?” she teases, as you and Nat shrug stuffing the slice into your mouths eyes focused on the television.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be boring and join us,” Natasha entices, her eyes full of mischief as Wanda scoffs shaking her head.

“You both eat like animals. I’ll stay over here with my half of the pizza thank you very much,” she huffs but the glint in her eyes shows her amusement.

You all continue to munch happily on the cheesy slices as you and Natasha make ridiculous comments about the reality TV show that plays on the flat screen making you both laugh. Wanda smiles fondly enjoying the peace and the very normal atmosphere; being a well known superhero with many enemies makes moments like this rare so she remains quiet, that small smile playing on her lips as she observes her two favourite people in this rare domestic bliss knowing there’s no other place she’d rather be.

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @natasharomanoffswife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#natasha romanoff x wanda #Wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #platonic!reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff

307 notes · View notes

superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: If I had to give this part a title, I would title it “(Y/N) and their human friends” Also I lied. This part was too long so it might be another part (or two) before we get to the Bella Arc.

* “You know you would be pretty good looking without the glasses.” Lauren says twirling a strand of hair and ignoring the algebra worksheet in front of her.

* Yeah that’s kind of the whole point

* “Contacts kind of freak me out.”

* You’re expecting a snarky response but instead she nods.

* “It’s the whole sticking your finger in your eye thing right, I totally get that.” She’s watching you with such inquisitive eyes, it almost you uncomfortable.

* It’s been a few months since you started school, you’re almost at thanksgiving break. So far you feel like you’ve assimilated well, and you have a good balance between school and caring for your animals, but it’s situations like this that totally throw you off.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what did you get for number 5?” Jessica asks, you’re thankful for the distraction.

* “I got X = 8” Jessica confirms she got that too, and moves onto the next one

* You three are in the worlds most unlikely group. You didn’t even know Lauren was in this class you usually just pair up with Jessica.

* “Hey, me and a some people from the volleyball team are going to Port Angeles, you should come with, we could give you a makeover.”

*You wonder what the other angle here is

* It didn’t take long for you to realise that somehow, even with the ugly-duckling routine, the Cullen’s were at the top of the social hierarchy.

* Part of their popularity was probably because they didn’t really seem to interact with anyone outside of their own social circle. Which just made them all the more desirable.

* “I don’t know Lauren, I would have to ask Esme if it’s okay.” Though you can already bet Rosalie isn’t going to like this.

* “Oh cool, just let me know!” Lauren smiles, it turns out the act of considering her invitation was enough to placate her.

* For once you’re actually glad Edward’s waiting for you outside of your class when the bell rings.

* “Edward read that girls mind.”

* “It’s always straight to business isn’t it. No, ‘hi Edward how’s it going?’ Or ‘How was your class, how has your morning been treating you?’ It wouldn’t hurt you to make some small talk” You give him a look, and he returns it with an expectant expression. You sigh.

* “Hi, Edward how was your class?” You plaster on a smile, and he returns with a smile of his own.

* “It was fine. A little repetitive, we’re reading “to kill a mocking bird” in English.” You nod, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder

* “That sounds super boring,” the books great and all, but you’re guessing he’s already read it like 30 times by now. “Hey Edward,”

* “Yes (Y/N),” He nods, hiding his grin behind his hand.

* “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

* “Of course, anything for you.” He grins openly now.

* “Would you mind telling me what that girl Lauren Mallory is thinking so I can know why she invited me,” and not Jessica her good friend. “to hang out?”

* Edward loses his smile.

* “The varsity members on the volleyball team suggested it, they think it’s a shame they couldn’t have got you on the team since you just moved here.”

* Unexpected but not the worst. You’ve really been half assing it in PE so you’re surprised they even want you.

* “Lauren-she thinks you could be-“ a lopsided smirk twitches onto his face. “in her words- ‘two super good looking best friends’ “

*oh. So she just wants a pretty b*tch squad?

* “Maybe I’ll go with them then” you were scared they were going to force you to show them the Cullen’s house and introduce you to everyone, or leave you stranded in port A as some kind of prank or something.

* Edward stops you

*“you can’t be serious” he has his eyebrows scrunched together

* “Why not?” Nothing more natural to fitting in then hanging out with your classmates. Unless- “if you’re worried about any accidents don’t, I know they all look healthy but they eat a lot of carbs. Way too starchy for my palette.”

* “It’s not that-“ he gets that brooding-existence is suffering look. “You shouldn’t trust humans too much, they’ll let you down.”

* Well what’s that supposed to mean, but before you can ask he’s already walking to his class.

* Well whatever, at least Emmett will tell you a good joke to take your mind off of Mr. Eternal Damnations ominous words.

* Too bad when you get inside he’s not here, instead Mike Newton perks up when you walk into the room.

* “Hey Eleazar, how’s it going?” You still have a hard time adjusting to use Eleazar’s name as your own. Apparently they came from a time when last names were only for nobles, so he offered you his first name instead.

* “Hey Newton, any plans for this weekend?” You take Edward’s advice and start with small talk. Mike Newton smiles, you guess he’s kinda cute, all soft cheeks and baby blue eyes

* “No I’m completely free!” Weird how he’s so enthusiastic about being alone, he must be one of those “relish time alone” types. Good for him.

* “Everyone needs some time alone sometimes.” He deflates, oh man you guess that’s the wrong thing to say.

* He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then Emmett sits beside you.

* “Can I have a swig from your water bottle?” You hand it over

* “Making out with Rosalie make you thirsty?” Emmett cracks a grin

* “It’s that whole bookworm-soccer mom get up, it gets to me yknow?” That’s actually pretty funny

* “So what she’s the Velma to your Freddy?” When the reference doesn’t sink in you rephrase “the nerd to your jock.” He grins again.

* “I think I might join the swim team just so I can see her wear my letterman” that’s actually pretty cute

* “You should do that, I’ll cheer you on at your swim meets” Emmett grins.

*”I’ll hold you to that”

* School life goes on like it always has.

* Weeks pass, marked by tests, homework assignments and projects.

* You actually kind of become friends with Angela, Lauren, Jessica, Connor and Mike.

* “So like, are you and Cullen close?” Mike asks. You and the group are over at Tyler’s house using his fire pit to roast marshmallows. The others are invested in another conversation but you can tell by Lauren’s subtle head tilt that she’s eavesdropping.

* “Which one?” Mike gets flustered at that

* “The one in our grade.”

* “Hmm, well I’d say Alice and I are kinda close, but-“

* “N-no not her,” he clears his throat. “The other one-Edward”

* “Oh, Edward’s my best friend.” The answer slips out automatically.

* “I-Is that why you’re staying with the Cullen’s?” Jessica asks. Everyone’s blatantly listening now, the only one who seems uncomfortable is Angela.

* You sigh. You know everyone at school is probably wondering about the weird relationship. Jessica’s just the only one brave enough to ask you.

* “I mean, it might be.” You’re sure, Edward’s friendship with you is the reason everyone was so quick to accept the living arrangement. “But I actually met Car-I mean Dr. Cullen before I met the others.”

* “How does that work?” It’s Connor who pipes in this time.

* “Well-“ you sigh you really don’t want to do this but at least your sob story will make you seem less suspicious. “So Eleazer and Carmen, they’re my parents, but they’re not my birth parents.”

* You tell them how your parents passed away in an accident many years ago, and how Carlisle had been your Doctor at the time while you recovered. He worked with you for a long time, and you’re pretty sure he wanted to adopt you, but the agency liked Carmen and Eleazer better, probably because Carlisle already had so many adopted kids.

* “Still, Carlisle stayed in my life as my doctor and a family friend. Then I met Edward and the rest of the Cullen’s and... the rest is history...I guess.” You’ve found it’s best to mix a little bit of truth into the lie, though really all of that was mostly what happened.

* Everyone looks testy eyed, Angela is holding back tears, and Lauren hastily wipes her away so no one can see. You wonder if maybe your powers leaked out a bit while you were telling your story.

* “Dude... you’re so strong.” Tyler claps a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a hug.

* “Ah, it all happened a long time ago, I’m mostly over it now” You tell them all about your Coven in Denali, and how you have two families now, how you don’t regret anything. Well, the only thing you regret, is not staying human, but you can’t mention that so you fake a smile instead.

* Connor breaks out a bottle of vodka he stole from his mom, and pours a shot for everyone

* “To (Y/N)” everyone raises their glass, and not for the first time you feel the urge to cry but no tears escape you.

* You’re a lot closer to everyone after that. You even start sitting at their lunch table every so often.

* In fact the others follow your lead and assimilate with their classmates with ease. Rosalie joins the school book club, and very loudly debates Jane Austen’s to whoever will listen.

* Emmett follows through and joins the swim team. Jasper starts hanging out with some wood shop kids, you’ve caught him arguing about the superior wood in between classes with his new friends. Even Alice joins the art club.

* You try out for the dance/cheer team, it’s the only thing you don’t have to hold back in. Also you’re a great base, you could hold everyone on the team up single handedly during stunts. But you won’t know if you made it until summer vacation

* Everyone seems to be assimilating well, everyone except for Edward

* “You can’t expect me to trust these people (Y/N), not when I know everything they’re really thinking.” You roll your eyes

* “I’m not saying you have to be their best friend Eddie, I’m just saying it looks super suspicious that all the Cullen’s only hang out with each other and refuse to get to know anyone else.” You shove a text book into his chest, and he scoffs

* “It wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk.”

* And so Edward joins your group of human friends, much to the joy of your female companions and dismay of your male ones.

* Life is still strange. But it’s good.

* When you’re surrounded by your new friends, it makes you feel - almost like you’re human again

* And then everything falls apart.

* It’s almost summer vacation. You’re excited, maybe you can go to the beach again soon, and you wonder if it will be alright to take a trip to Denali to see your Coven. You’re pretty confident you made the spirit squad so you’ll have to pencil in camp somewhere. You held back, but just enough by your own parameters to make the bottom end of Varsity.

* You’re at your locker, when Rosalie, and Edward show up. Quickly followed by Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

* “Oh hey guys, you wanna go on a hike tomorrow it’s supposed-“

* “You have to leave.” You’re surprised when it’s Emmett that says this. Kind, jovial Emmett holds a grave expression.

* “What, why-“ for a second you wonder if the Volturi has finally come to get you. It’s been at least seven years since your transformation, it’s about time they started thinking about you.

* But then you notice everyone staring, the quiet buzz of phones vibrating only detected by your super hearing. People are always staring, especially when you’re all together. but this time you notice they’re not staring at the six super models gathered in front of the lockers.

* They’re staring at you.

* “There’s a video of you going around,” Jasper says, and Rosalie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

* He hands you his blackberry, and the grainy image of you come into focus.

* It’s a YouTube video

* You’re in the locker room, your (Your Color Skin) in full view under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing your underwear, and your abs are on full display. You’re Grey PE uniform shirt is limp in your hands, you remember this, you got extra laps as a penalty and as a result, you were running late for class, you were alone in the locker room

*well you thought you were alone.

* Your body is literally perfect, the way you’ve always dreamed, but you feel white hot shame rise in your throat like acid.

* Your hands shake as you scroll down to see the comments

* ‘Damn who knew they had a body like that under those dorky sweaters’

* ‘(Y/N) Eleazar: Best body Forks HS 10/10 would f*ck’

* ‘Hot body, if only they ditched the glasses, and started wearing some tighter shirts’

* And the comments go on, there’s at least a hundred. You hold your cardigan a little closer to your body. You don’t have the courage to turn around. You can already imagine them staring at you, picturing what they saw in the video transposed onto your body

* “I’m sorry, I didn’t see this coming until it was already happening-“ Alice touches your shoulder and continues her apology but you don’t hear anything.

* You want to cry, you want to be angry. But all you feel is shame. And the worst part is, you didn’t even do anything wrong. So why do you feel so ashamed?

* “Hey, look at me.” Edward grabs your face in his hands, your amber eyes meet his.

*”Snap out of it.”

* Oh, your powers are leaking through.

*Your gaze turns to your foster family, all of whom sport equally uncomfortable expressions.

* You take a deep breath, and imagine reeling in your emotions, imagining them receding back into a locked box, just like Eleazer taught you.

* You need a calm mind right now.

* “Are you fine now?” Edward asks, his hands still on your face. You nod, resting your hand on top of his

* “I’m good.”

* “Good, because we have to get you out of here.” He’s moved his hand to your arm, about to tug you back home when you pull back and shake your head.

* “We can’t do that.”

* “What do you mean?” Rosalie hisses, her hand curls around your wrist “we have to leave NOW.”

* “No think about it, they’re right.” Jasper says, his eyes meeting yours. At least someone’s on the same oage

* “Think about it Rose, if I leave now with all of you it’s going to look weird.” Normal 15-17 year olds wouldn’t think to handle the situation on their own, especially not entitled rich kids like the Cullen’s.

*She seems to have gotten it because her hand retreats to her side.

* “Well what should we do then, I’m not letting you walk around here with everyone-“ she cuts herself off, a deep frown creasing onto her face as her teeth dig into her bottoms lip.

* “We need to call Carlisle or Esme, they’ll pretend they saw the video from someone else and file a complaint with the school.” You take a deep breath, and imagine the locked box in your mind. Your emotions held carefully within.

* “Until then we all need to pretend like it’s not a big deal.”

* “No way in hell am I doing that!” Emmett growls. “I’m going to rip that fucking peeping Tom piece by piece.”

* “Not all of us need to pretend,” Alice says, her gaze somewhere far away, flicking between futures. “Only Edward, Rosalie and I do.” Her gaze lands on you.

* “You need to go to your class like normal,” a hint of a smile curls onto her mouth. “Everything’s going to work out fine.” Edward’s focusing on Alice, reliving her vision.

* “Do you think you can manage being alone?” Edward asks, you don’t have the next class with any of the Cullen’s. You’ll be on your own.

* You catch Jasper and Alice whispering to each other, but pay it no mind. Flirting even in the middle of your entire world crumbling down.

* You take a deep breath, picturing the locked box over and over, making it a visual mantra.

* “I can get through a period.” Everyone disperses, and Jasper walks you to your next class. Edward wanted to, but Jasper insisted.

*”You’re always hogging them, give someone else a few minutes Edward.”

* You’re almost near your class when Jasper talks to you.

* “Hey, I don’t know if I should tell you this”

*You wonder if he’s going to offer to beat up the person who took the video, or if he’s going to offer you a comforting word.

* “Alice told me you’re going to raise some hell on a misogynist in there” he gives you a wicked grin, his incisors sparkling.

* How is it that every vampire seems to say what you least expect to hear and yet, it’s exactly what you need in the moment.

* He holds out his fist, and you bump it with your own. A grin curling onto your face.

* “Hell yeah I am.”

* You take your usual seat in Spanish like normal. You sit in the front row in this class, diagonally from Jessica. Mike and Angela sit somewhere in the back.

* You just need to focus and keep your emotions in check for 45 minutes. You visualize the box, calming yourself separating the mind and body.

* How did the saying go... a calm soul resides in a calm body?

* “-Zar, Miss. Eleazar!” Your eyes pop up to the teacher, the locked box falling out of grasp.

* “Yes, sorry?” The teacher sighs, you look to the white board to see you’re going over the answers to the worksheet. You’re about to provide the answer for the number you’re on when the teacher cuts you off.

* “I know you might be focused on body building, but in my class you need to focus on the material.” There’s a scattered laugh that fills the room, but your blood runs cold

* “Excuse me?”

* And that’s when your teacher knew he fucked up. He stutters over himself, the sentences overlapping

* “-really you should take it as a compliment-“

* “Oh you think I should take it as a compliment that someone recorded me without my consent while I was changing?”

* The rooms pin drop silent. Your teacher is sweating.

* “Hold on now- I think you’re being a little dramatic don’t you think” A smirk curls onto his lips. “You were in your underwear, it was really no different than wearing a swimsuit” he’s got this smug smile, like he’s right.

*Honestly you were ready to put everything behind you and move on if he just apologized. It’s gross that a teacher is watching videos of a student changing, but what would you have done in his situation if a co-worker showed you.

* “It’s all about perspective, a positive per-“

* But not anymore, you’re not in a forgiving mood, especially not for an idiot like this.

* “No it’s all about consent.” All the anger and despair you’ve been holding back comes flooding out. “When someone wears a swimsuit they’re consenting to show skin and be seen, but I wasn’t contesting to being seen when I was changing in the privacy of the locker room.” You don’t stop for air, your voice trembling

* “And another thing, I wonder how the school administration will feel knowing the same faculty that’s supposed to make students feel safe and enrich their lives is watching creepy videos-“ you stop when you meet your teachers eyes, tears streaming down his face.

* Oh f*ck

* You look to your right, finding your classmates in a similar state, holding back tears.

*So this is what happens to humans when they come in contact with your power.

* You try to visualize the box, but it’s too far now. And all the crying people around you don’t help.

*You need to get out of here.

* “Pathetic, not even an apology for your gas lighting.” She shake your head as confidently as you can, grabbing your bag with trembling hands.

* You walk quickly, maybe there’s a mountain you can climb and wait it out on. You’ll text Carlisle and let him now what happened. It shouldn’t be too-

*” Hey wait!”

* You’re already in the hallway when someone call out to you. You turn, expecting it to be Angela or Mike. Never in a million years would you expect her to be standing there in the middle of the hall, her hand hastily wiping away a stray tear.

* “Mr. Peterson’s a f*cking jerk.” Jessica sniffles, walking quickly to catch up with you. You don’t miss the fact that her bags not slung across her back.

* She must have left a minute after you did. You haven’t thought about her as a friend. Not a real one at least. She’s kind of like hot sauce, it’s fun when it’s around, but if it’s not then that’s not a big deal.

* So to see her here, the first to follow you out, rambling about wether you want to get frozen yogurt or pizza, it warms your unbeating heart.

* “Hey Jessica?” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes swinging up to you.

* You haven’t been fair to her. But you’re going to change that.

* “Thanks for being my friend.” And she smiles at you, her arms wrapped around her tight. It’s not the fake ones you see often the ones she throws to Lauren when she’s asking for Jessica’s opinion on an outfit, or when Connor tries to copy her homework’s. it’s a genuine smile.

* Before she can open her mouth, you hear two more shouts from the hallway.

*Angela and Mike are jogging down the hallway to catch up with you. The latter carrying a bright pink backpack in his hand.

* “Geez Jess, the least you could do is take your bag before you go bolting out of there” Mike’s panting as he holds out her bag. You don’t miss the blush ghosting her face.

*Looks like she still has a crush on him.

* “Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks, and you wish you could cry as you nod.

* “Is it weird that I’m kind of happy right now?” And the three of them smile, before wrapping you into a group hug.

*They all smell terrible. Jessica smells like boiled broccoli, Mike is like the overwhelming stench of fat mixed with sugar, and Angela.. Angela’s probably the worst. She’s sickeningly sweet mixed with a healthy dose of starch.

*it’s disgusting. You have a hard time believing any of the Cullen’s would lose their minds when they’re this close to any of them.

*still, even with the repulsive stench, it’s nice. You haven’t felt the body gets of another human in a long time, or heard the quiet thump of their beating heart. Even the odor is nice, it reminds you that they’re human.

*And for a second it’s easier to pretend you’re human too, just like them.

* “Dude why are you so cold?” Jessica groans, breaking the moment. She taps your arm but doesn’t pull away.

* “While we’re asking questions, Mike how much axe do you use?” Angela’s eyes are watering as you both laugh.

* “Like you’re one to talk, I can smell your strawberry shampoo two hallways over!”

* You watch the three of them untangle and start walking to the back exit from the gym.

* “So where do we go now? We can’t stay here.” Angela says

* “I was thinking maybe a coffee shop, if we take out books we might pass for having a free period” Jessica pipes in

* “Oh, how about the Arcade? A buddy of mine works there since he’s already on break from college, I don’t think he’ll minds us hanging out there.”

* So this is what Alice meant when she said everything was going to be okay.

*Your Human Friends were going to save you

*You haven’t forgotten Edward’s warning, someone did break your trust and let you down.

* But that’s what it means to build friendships, you open yourself to being hurt, and so do they.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what do you think?” Mike asks, and they all turn around to notice you’re not walking with them.

*You try not to smile to wide. You don’t want to scare them off now.

* “I think there’s something fun about an arcade during the day, no lines.” You say, walking a little bit faster to catch up with your friends.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show

#twilight imagines #twilight reader insert #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine #twilight saga #twilight #Edward Cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #Emmett cullen #Emmett cullen x Rosalie hale #rosalie hale #Jasper hale x Alice cullen #Edward Cullen x y/n #Edward Cullen x you #midnight sun #superhero—imagines

570 notes · View notes

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

Text

happy birthday, @irrlicht-ghostfront ❤️ i love you, and i'm judging you for this being your prompt, but i love you some more, so here <33 (warnings: car accident) [NO MCD]

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Blink and a miss — accident — wrecked car, and fleeting on the painful side of barely conscious in a pool of his own blood. There was too much of it anyway. Castiel felt dizzy more than he felt the pain as time, almost tangibly, passed on.

There's no way he was going to live.

(It was supposed to end old — fingers crossed for painless. Featuring inevitably beeping monitors, and time to come up with last words. A goodbye to his family.

Not that he had much of one right now — he isn't sure if he can call Dean's family his, yet; Dean seems to insist on it but then he's always been a pioneer in giving Castiel more than he could ever deserve, starting with his own heart, so Castiel can't tell — but he'd finally started to have intentions to, in the future.

A dog, for Dean.

Children.

Intentions to beg his brother to come back, and not give up until he'd gotten his forgiveness and his only remaining family back. But that — well, it was a different alley than Castiel's thoughts swarmed to right now. And swarm they did, his head throbbing, and life thudding at its gates.

Castiel had also intended to marry Dean, misty-eyed and denying it. Intended to figure out flower arrangements, and guest seating. Intended to kiss him at the end of the aisle, with his hands cupping Dean's face, and Dean's around his waist.

Then, move out from their shared apartment into a house.

Yellow wallpapered bedroom.

Treasure, and keep Dean happy forever.

Fuck.)

His breathing is still ragged, and his head feels too empty, but the heaving has lessened. Probably the blood loss. Less pain, more haze. And the resultant thoughtlessness is perhaps the only thing that sparks the courage in him to do what he does next.

Castiel picks up his phone.

(A struggle, but he's determined.)

If he's dying, and he'll never get to live the life he'd finally started to dream of — never have a life to share with Dean, never get to see Dean again, then he'll take what he can get.

He's allowed this, he tells himself. Allowed to be selfish, one last time.

He's on his deathbed after all.

It's outstandingly painful to bend his neck enough to see he's picked the right number — but the mere idea of accidentally calling an acquaintance at a time like this brings a tensed sliver of life into his muscles, and straining, he looks. Right enough, he's got 'Dean :)' on the screen.

Pressing dial, he lets his head fall back on the seat, wincing again. Maybe that'll relent the floatiness, if his body circulates some goddamn blood into his brain — because he needs this.

He's dying, but he needs this. One last time, he needs Dean.

A thumb swipes the familiarly placed 'on speaker' button — he can't bring the phone to his ear right now. He's going to have to risk Dean hearing the still crackling ruins of the poor engine, strewn across the wreck in smoldering pieces.

He must make quite a sight, he thinks, waiting for the call to go through. Man found in car wreckage, trapped by the door, dead within —

"Cas?"

Dean's voice cuts through Castiel's morbid mental news report, and almost reflexively, he closes his eyes. There's a tangible relief in his head when he does it, and god, Castiel must've been doing worse than he's convinced himself he is.

Dean sounds beautiful as always, and so familiar its like home.

It's the last time he ever gets to have this.

"Hello, Dean." Maybe he manages to not sound weird, or Dean's just not listening for clues. The loud racket behind him, at Bobby (and Dean's) automobile shop, helps as well.

"Hey." There's a smile in his voice now. Fuck. He's smiling. He's smiling, and he's smiling at Cas, and it's the last time Castiel ever gets to hear it.

He loses himself trying to remember the last time he saw Dean smile — earlier this morning, kissing him goodbye before he left — no, down from their balcony, accompanied by a gleeful wave because Dean's shift started a couple hours after Cas's day in the office did — no, when Castiel checked the time, and the Dean on his lockscreen grinned up at him — and he doesn't realize he's fallen silent until Dean's speaking again.

"Babe, you okay?"

There's a tinge of worry. Only a smidge, and it still hurts. The last time Castiel hears Dean can't be laced with anything bad. And it can't be Castiel's fault.

There's a pause. "Cas, what's up?"

Castiel doesn't know what to say so he tries to hold on to the phone tighter, his throat fluttering as a tear rolls down his face.

"Wait," The worry dissipates, apology slipping in. "Am I forgetting something? Did we make plans for lunch, 'cause Bobby and —"

"N-no." Cas struggles, and it's getting harder to not pant. He sounds too breathy anyway. "We don't. Didn't."

He forces a smile into his voice while saying it. As if it doesn't break him that he'll never get to see Dean again. But he needs to smile, doesn't he? One last time. Just for Dean.

"Well, do you want to?" Dean sounds cheerful. Normal.

Perfect.

Castiel doesn't want to die.

"Not, today." He half-heaves, and another tear rolls down his face.

Not today.

(If he'd known, he'd have stared to his heart's fill this morning. Kissed him an hour longer. Held him in his sleep. Oh, if he had had any foresight at all.)

"Dickface-atron keeping ya busy?"

Castiel lets the air stuck in his chest out, and it probably makes up for a small chuckle. He doesn't want to lie, he just won't agree.

"Figures."

"Sorry." Castiel tells him, meaning it entirely.

"Nah, s'good. I love you." Dean adds, clearly smiling wider, because they've only recently added that to their vernacular instead of the pedestal it'd been on for the first eight months of their friendship turning into a relationship. Somehow, it feels grander though — or, that might also be because it's the last time Castiel ever gets to hear Dean say it to him.

Oh, he loves him so much.

(He doesn't want to die.)

"And I have my packed lunch anyway." Dean continues, filling the gap thankfully. Machines blare in his background and he braves on like a man used to not being able to hear his own words due to the racket. Castiel is grateful for it. He hangs onto every word, drinks it in. Makes himself hold on. "Pretty sure you'd kick me to the curb if I let a PBJ go to waste."

"Jelly?" Cas smiles, when he wants to sob. He's certain he sounds fainter too, he feels fainter, and it's a miracle it doesn't show.

The tears well up in his chest, for possibly the rest of time. Dead men don't cry, and Castiel can't.

(Can't be long now, can it?)

"Jelly." Dean confirms. "It's the curse of paying attention when you rant about jam, you know." He snickers. "I used to be normal."

"Yes, I'm very lucky."

Dean chuckles, and Castiel sighs.

He's yearned for Dean to be happy, tried to make him smile, longed to see him laugh, for so, so long it feels like a part of him now. And now, it goes back to Dean, without him.

Somebody else'll make him smile, somebody else will wake him up with a kiss on his temple, and somebody else will love Dean for exactly who he is because it's Dean, and there was never someone who deserved it more — so of course somebody will.

But it will never be him again.)

An untethered broken sound escapes his throat, and Cas winces, faking a cough with it.

That makes the blood gush.

"Oh, also — wait. Just a second." He interrupts himself, and probably covers the speaker with his palm before yelling blurrily to someone near him.

(Or perhaps it's not supposed to be blurry. Castiel wouldn't know. He can hardly make out his own breathing. It's a feat that he can make out the conversation, even if most of it is instinct memory, and all he's doing is holding onto Dean for as long as he can.

Somehow, it feels like he's been doing so forever. But the time left, had never been so little.)

When Dean returns, he sounds apologetically busy.

"Dude, that dick who yelled at Ash, remember? He's back. Garth went this time, 'cause douchebag brought a Sedan."

Castiel swallows again, and vaguely registers that it tastes like metal. Almost like there's blood mixed with saliva.

There's another morbid thought. What, in this wreck, is finally going to kill him?

"I should probably check on him. Garth sorta wears on you."

"Of course." He croaks, and slips — fuck, he slips — but for once, thank god for oversensitive customers and boyfriends with likeable personalities, because Dean's conversing off the phone again, his hand on the speaker.

"I'll call you back, babe." Dean comes back to add in a rush, and Cas sucks in a painful breath, slowly beginning to feel like the only thing keeping him conscious any more is the sensation of air in his lungs, in his mouth, in the back of his throat. "Still have to ask what you even called about, you know. Or maybe if you just missed me." He beams, he obviously beams, and Cas stifles a groan.

"I do." He wheezes. "I —"

"Me too." Dean returns, flirty, and Cas goes to add to it — because he has to, because he's not going to make it, he's not going to be able to hold on until Dean returns, and he has to — but there's a click.

Castiel stares at the screen, devastated.

(Or tries to, anyway.)

"I love you," He cries out, aware that the line's cut, but needing to hear himself say it anyway. Plus, his head feels too numb to keep words inside anymore. It's less a prison of thoughts, and more a canyon of loss.

More tears fall.

His heart is beating faster than it ever has.

"I love —" His voice trembles, tries again, and fails. His throat refuses to comply with the thousands of things there remain to be said, and the words slowly fade, neglected.

In more ways than one, it's like being administered anaesthesia before a surgery — Castiel was operated on for tonsils at age eleven, and he remembers it still — and it finally sinking in, and knocking you out, as the doctor says to count to ten, and you hardly graze six.

His hands clutch the phone tighter, neck rendering him incapable of looking anymore, so he has no idea what his thumbs are trying to type — but it doesn't matter, not really, because this is it. Completely alone, young, and desperately in love with Dean Winchester, Castiel closes his eyes for the very last time.

And everything fades to black.

When they find him, it's been at least four hours.

It's night.

The uniformed official stuck with the responsibility of calling the next of kin, Victor Henriksen, fishes out the wallet as the paramedics carry him into the ambulance and attach him to IV immediately, and steps away to dial his emergency contact with a crinkled brow of sympathy.

And as he waits for the guy, a Dean Winchester, to pick up, he can't help but notice that his number is exactly the same as the one the last text almost sent from the victim's phone had been typed to — clutched in his hand, an unnerving, 'I love'.

And well, he isn't particularly into romcoms, but he hopes the poor guy gets a chance to finish his sentence.

He was in pretty bad condition, Henriksen recalls, and the bloodloss had knocked him out for several hours, but he looked twenty five at most, more importantly healthy, and — he looks at the wallet again, and the picture of two men (one of them, the victim) smiling at the camera with their hands around each other — most importantly, seemed to have reasons to fight for.

(Plus, he'd been the one to call the accident in himself — albeit four hours after it happened, but Henriksen figured he'd been passed out for that long — so he had to want to live, right?)

"Hello. Dean Winchester, who's this?"

"Hello, sir, I'm Officer Henriksen, and I have you listed as Mr Castiel Novak's emergency..."

"You dick."

Castiel coughs, and gives up on squinting against the bright light. It's a LED. Like in hospitals.

"Jesus, Cas. You complete asshole, you —"

Castiel opens his eyes a sliver again. The walls do resemble a hospital. Plain, white tiled. Way too many AC vents. Is that something on his hand?

"So you'll open your goddamn eyes, and not even fucking look at me."

There's IV's on both his hands. And something stiff around his neck. Almost like a collar, but thicker. And when he breathes, his ribs start like they might hurt — but the pain is numbed as it registers. He must be running really high on painkillers; they never really worked for him.

"Fine. You don't gotta look at me." A pause. Then, more shaky. "I was so scared, Cas. So fucking terrified. They said they weren't sure, said it may be too late, and you were dying. And then they tell me the crash happened at three, and I feel like I'm going to have a fucking stroke."

His vision slowly unblurs, feeling returning to his fingers. He tries to fold them, and winces at the strain.

Immediately, there's a hand on his arm.

"Stop moving, dumbass. I'm going to kill you for this, you know. I am, but I need you to be okay first."

The words don't register, but the voice does.

(He sounds beautiful as always, and so familiar it's like home.)

"Hell, I just need you, Cas. Period. I need your ridiculous, stupid ass — and I need you to look at me when I'm begging you to be okay, and I need you to stay, with me, forever, and not call me first when you need a goddamn ambulance, you dumbass —"

"Hello, Dean." Castiel interrupts, a hoarse whisper, and he thinks he hears a sob from the general direction of the love of his life.

(He really can't move his neck — he's got to tell Dean that at some point if he's not understood already. It's the cast.)

"Oh, thank god." Dean cries, the words muffled by either him burying his face in his sleeve, or the lifesaving medications Castiel is alive on account of, but it's okay, right? Dean's here — and he's okay. It's fine.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm still going to kill you for this."

"Well, I'd deserve that." Castiel tries to joke, and almost pulls it off, except for the part where he can't see Dean's reaction until the latter lets out another broken sob, and grabs his hand. Castiel freezes, trying to squeeze back, tears welling up again. "I'm really sorry, Dean." Then, after a beat. "I'm going to make this up to you."

It feels like a strange thing to say, but it's exactly what he means.

"Yeah, you are. Although it can't stop my revenge being not texting you when I have a heart attack in aisle three when I'm eighty and you're buying eggs, but okay."

If Castiel could, he would've shaken his head at that.

(But at least, and this is what really matters — they made it. He's alive. He — he gets this.)

"I love you, you son of a bitch."

Castiel smiles slowly, a tear landing on his pillow. "I love you too."

#destiel #destiel angst #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #cas pov #tw car accident #angst with a happy ending #prompt by the wonderful bamboo thank you again and happy birthday!!#bluefirecas #queenrowena #userpris #tearsofgrace #rambleoncas #oh writing my writing #PLEASE FORGIVE MEDICAL INACCURACIES IF FOUND i am a self professed fool #also please forgive bad writing. i hadn't written in WEEKS when i wrote this #long post

391 notes · View notes

lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

86 notes · View notes

anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

The times you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back, and the time you didn't | JJ MAYBANK

Warnings: Sad, angst, mentions of a loved one dying, physical and emotional abuse, anxiety. Kiara and Sarah were already friends. FLUFFLY AND HAPPY ENDING.

Word Count: 2648

If you guys see my works in other websites, let me know, please. I only have Tumblr.

BIG MASTERLIST

Laugher surrounded you. Normally, that would be something you loved, making you feel embraced by a peaceful environment. The Wreck was empty, except for the pogues enjoying a friendly night, full of laughter, delicious food, and kindness.

Usually, you cherished those nights. They would end with Kiara Carrera, Sarah Cameron, and you, Y/N Y/L/N dancing on top of a table while the three boys grinned, betting on who would slip first. But also, preparing to get into action, to avoid someone getting hurt.

Except that night wasn't like every night. Your hands shook a little, gripping your phone tightly. Your eyes moved along that sentence, over and over again, in case you read wrong.

'Grandma passed away.'

Your parents were harsh on you. Every Kook parent was harsh on their child. But your parents had an important role that they had to maintain, being the ones in charge of every Midsummer. They needed to keep up with their perfect image, which meant that you had to keep up with it too. Even if it was too much.

Your grandmas was an exception, a lovely one. She believed in love, actually falling in love. She didn't like it when parents tried to search the 'perfect one' for their children, that perfect one being someone full of shitty money. She believed in freedom. She was the only person you went to when you couldn't cope up with some situations. She was always there, arguing with your parents, and swearing to all the gods and goddesses that you wouldn't end up being a stuck Kook married with someone who loved your status, and not your persona.

But now, she wasn't there anymore. She was gone.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to sob violently, and be embraced by your friends. And even if things weren't going to be okay, you wanted to hear them whisper that to you. But you didn't.

When Kiara's dad entered The Wreck because he had forgotten his wallet, his eyes spotted you, offering a sad smile. "Hey, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He walked to you, embracing you for a couple of seconds. Someone had turned the music off, and every pogue's attention was on you. "Bless her. She was an amazing woman. I'm so sorry for your loss."

You bit your lower lip, hoping that if you bit down on it hard enough, it would stop shaking. "Thank you," You whispered, trying to maintain a tiny smile on your beautiful face.

"Your grandma," He continued. "Best woman I've known. If you need anything, you can always come here." He waved, exiting the restaurant.

All eyes were on you, but you didn't break down. No. You didn't. Teary eyes were nothing if you smiled like everything was okay. Everyone would believe you were okay, right?

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Kiara was the first one to break the silence, then all of the others gave you their blessings, asking if you were alright. Everyone knew how much you loved that woman. Everyone knew you would do the craziest things for her.

To all the questions, you smiled, nodding your head and assuring your friends that everything was just fine. "She is in a better place," No, that was a lie. There was no better place for her than next to you. The person who loved her the most.

Everyone would believe you were okay? No, JJ Maybank knew you like the back of his hand. But he didn't say anything, just rested his hand on your back, rubbing his thumb in circles, hoping to offer comfort. You, again, smiled.

That was the first time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

Walking was hard, but you still tried to walk as you normally did. All pogues were to meet on the beach. It was the perfect day to get some amazing waves, to surf, to eat delicious and fresh food, to joke around, to make unforgettable memories.

You already had some unforgettable memories that day, but not the kind you wanted to remember, the kind you wanted to erase from your mind.

When you arrived at the beach everyone was there. The blonde boy waved at you, of course, waiting for you to go closer to them. When you did, they greeted you. It didn't matter how long you all knew each other, the excitement was always there.

It was a nice morning. Until it was time to go into the water, you didn't want to. That is why, you had left your surfboard at home, hiding in the corner of your room. But of course, you hadn't thought about how JJ always had a board prepared for if someone forgot theirs.

"I'm okay, really," Lying became easy as time went by. "I don't feel like getting into the water. That time of the month." You rested your hand on the lower part of your belly while lying again.

"But you love surfing," JJ stayed back for a couple of seconds while the others were already shouting happily, getting into the water, and splashing each other. John B grabbed Kiara, pulling her down while Pope told them not to play so roughly because someone would end up getting hurt. "You want me to stay with you?"

"No," You grinned. "Go into the ocean! That I'm not going to surf doesn't mean I don't want to see the coolest surfer in the Outer Banks."

He smirked, getting distracted from the previous conversation due to the flirty friendship you guys had. "I never knew you were THAT much in love with me. Do you have dirty dreams about me at night?" He licked his lower lip while grinning.

Your hand grabbed some sand, throwing it at him. "Go!"

He didn't go. He continued staring at you, deeply. "Are you sure you are okay?" You nodded your head which didn't convince him much. "You know that if you need to talk to someone, I'm here. We all are."

"JJ," You whispered. "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm okay. Just hate being a woman one time a month." You chuckled when he pulled a disgusted expression.

Looking at him run towards the others, the smile on your face vanished. Your tummy was full of red and purple marks, all given to you by your father. Rafe Cameron had given away to your parents that you considered yourself a pogue, escaping your house and meeting with the people you truly loved, and that loved you back. Your dad didn't like that, and everyone that knew him in a more personal way knew that he couldn't control his temper. He was the reason your brother abandoned the Outer Banks years ago.

You used to hate him for leaving you there with him. But now, you would stand in silence, receiving those punches if it meant that at the end of the day, you would be able to see your friends. To see JJ Maybank.

That was the second time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

You tried not to play with the fork, knowing that it was bad manners and that you would get a kick from under the table by your mom. You were hungry but also tried not to eat much because there were visitors, and your mom tried to convince you that a woman should not eat much in front of a man they are trying to impress. Bullshit. But you had to do it if you wanted to go to sleep without any bruise.

You weren't trying to impress anyone. Your parents wanted to impress the Cameron family. Sarah and you didn't look at each other, knowing that Rafe would be asshole enough to reveal how both of you knew each other because you went out with the pogues. Even though, he had already revealed that information to your parents.

"You two look so lovely," Your mom grinned, while Rafe's father nodded his head. "I'm so glad both of you had decided to go out together!" What?

What?

"What?" The mere question escaped from in between your lips. "I didn't-" You felt a kick under the table, you mom was glaring at you while your eyes got teary.

"Baby," She grinned wickedly. "Last night, you told me you had a big crush on Rafe. I know you are shy about these things, so I told him myself!"

"Woah," Rafe's dad intervened. Although, your eyes were on your mom, feeling completely disgusted by the lie she told. "It so amazing that you guys have such a close relationship."

No, you didn't. You guys didn't have a close relationship. You could never be close to someone who walked away when her husband beat the shit out of her own daughter.

They were arranging a relationship between Rafe Cameron and you. If your grandma was there, she wouldn't let that happen. But she wasn't which meant you were going to end up dating Rafe Cameron. Which meant you had to hide your feeling for JJ Maybank, again.

That night, JJ called your phone. He told you about how he had found this cute little puppy on the street, convincing John B to let him keep it. You almost cried while listening to his voice. Of course, you didn't.

That was the third time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

A red velvet dress embraced your body, arms full of goosebumps. You weren't sure if those were because you were a little cold due to the chilly night or because of the situation. It was your birthday, and you wanted to celebrate it. You wanted to go out with the pogues, swim, dance, or even just not do anything but be with them. But of course, you weren't allowed to.

The situation was even more shitty. Your parents had taken your phone, not giving it back, claiming that now that you were with Rafe Cameron it was even more important to be far from 'those stupid non-deserving pogues'. It had been weeks since you saw or talked to them. They didn't know what was going on.

You had ignored Kiara when she saw you shopping with Sarah. The Cameron girl swore not to say a word, even though she believed that it would hurt them even more. You had pushed John B out of the way when he saw you the other day, walking with some other Kooks, something you would never do. You had insulted Pope when he stopped-by your house to deliver some things. And a couple of days ago, Rafe Cameron had kissed you on the lips when he saw that JJ Maybank was walking to you, worriedly because you had been missing from all the pogues meeting.

So now, you were in the middle of Midsummer's party, eyes lost. The pogues probably hated you, not understanding your change of behavior. The hand that was resting on your lower back wasn't the one you wanted. And the eyes of your parents burned holes on the back of your head. Midsummer's were more important than your birthday. Not even your parent had wished you a happy birthday. Not Rafe Cameron, even though you didn't need anything from him. Not the pogues, and they had a valid reason not to. Multiple reasons not to.

Sarah did, but because she knew what was going on.

Kiara avoided you all night, not even daring to glance at you. Pope was helping his father serve food, and even when he went near you, offering food or drinks, he didn't look up to meet your eyes.

You didn't expect John B and JJ to appear at the Midsummer party. JJ's face was bruised, and your heart ached because you were always the first one to know about those things, but this time you weren't. The guards were already prepared to kick both boys out of the party.

Sarah and Kiara looked at each other, running toward both boys, hugging them closely. You couldn't help but smile a little when you saw the happiness on their faces. Especially, on JJ Maybank.

Pope glanced at his father, apologizing, and following his friends. All of them ready to leave.

Your grin vanished. Gaze focused on the floor. "I will be back. I need to retouch my makeup." You told Rafe, moving his hand away from your waist. You needed to go to the bathroom. You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. A hand grabbed your wrist, and it seemed like the music was lower, whispers louder. "Rafe, I really need to go to the bathro-."

Not Rafe Cameron, but JJ Maybank.

"Come," He swallowed hard. Your tongue came out of your mouth, licking your lips, even though it didn't work because your mouth was totally dry. "Come back to us." You heard Rafe call your name, and telling JJ to step away from you. "Come back to me, please." You couldn't hide his teary eyes, and neither could you.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Your dad. You flinched when hearing his voice. You avoided JJ's gaze. "Get away from him."

You clutched JJ's hand, lessening his grip on you. Turning around, taking a step to go back to where your parents were looking at you angrily.

"We came for you," His voice made you stop. "We came for you because Sarah told us this morning what was going on. You don't have to do this anymore. No one will do anything to you. You can come back to us. We want you back."

Your father grabbed his keys, knowing that was a warning. It wouldn't be the first time he punched you with those keys between his knuckles to make more damage. "I-I don't want to go back. I'm okay, JJ."

You heard him walk away from you, again. Your back still to him. A shiver ran through your body while staring at your parents. Your dad was smiling victoriously. You shook your head. Now, he was screaming your name. But you were too busy running toward your friends, who turned around. All of them had teary eyes because they thought they lost you.

Kiara was the first one to see you, smiling. Tears wetting her cheeks. Her hand rested on JJ's shoulder, he confused looked at her, then followed her gaze to look at you. Your face was wet, some makeup running down your cheeks. But you looked beautiful. You looked beautiful because you were running back to his arms. When he had you between his arms, he could feel the violent sobs shaking your entire body.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He cried. "You didn't have to be strong. You didn't have to be strong alone. You had us." He whispered. "You have us."

"I'm sorry." You wanted to say so many things, but those were the most important ones. You needed to apologize. Eyes closed while sobbing hysterically.

"Let me see your face," JJ was also crying. He tried to move you apart from his body so he could see your face, but you tightened your arms around him, even your legs. His hands grabbed your butt, keeping your legs around his waist, supporting you. "Let me see your face because I want to kiss you so bad."

And he did. JJ Maybank kissed you like this was a film or a book. He let his lips command yours, and he couldn't hold back when his tongue desperately needed to touch yours. "I love you. It's always been you." You let him know when both of you needed to breathe.

"I love you too," He happily cried. "I'm so in love with you."

The Pogues went close to both of you, gripping their arms around you. Sobbing. Crying. Weeping.

That was the time you wanted to cry in front of JJ, and you did.

1K notes · View notes

dracowars · 3 years

Text

the right thing | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,0k

summary: where y/n does the only right thing, much to the dismay of everyone else

a/n: i had this idea in mind for so long and finally managed to bring it to life, enjoy <3

warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

"Darling, are you listening to me?", your father's voice tears you out of your dreamy, peaceful thoughts and you silently direct your gaze from the nature outside, which is quickly passing by, to him. As an answer you nod, even though you were definitely not listening a bit.

"Very good! I am so incredibly proud of my grown up daughter", he smiles at you and takes off the glasses he used to read out what is written on the parchment in his hand to you when you were not listening.

You do not answer or show a reaction, causing your father to clear his throat nervously before looking down while you switch your own gaze back out of the moving carriage.

As much as you would like to believe what he is saying, you can't. This man has ruined your entire life and is now only trying to make up for it with his stupid niceness and courtesy. Just like he always has, knowing that you will never forgive him for what he did.

The sudden waggling of the carriage makes you assume that you have arrived and at that very moment you recognize the large creaking gate that leads into a wide avenue to a huge mansion. The Malfoy Manor.

Your pureblood family has been very influential for generations, just like the Malfoys, so it not really surprising that you and Draco immediately befriended each other in your first year at Hogwarts. A friendship that soon became more than that.

What you did not expect, however, is that you would get engaged to each other just as quickly.

Your parents wasted no time after learning about your relationship. After all, it would mean the continuation of the purity of your families as well as the union of two of the most influential families in the whole wizarding world. And it was clear for both of you that you were lucky to have met, because otherwise you would probably have married someone you would not have loved with your whole heart.

And yet, you are not happy.

The creaking of the carriage door opening by magic, makes you flinch before you follow your father out and are now standing in front of the huge building you have already visited several times. One of the house elves leads you to the large front door and another leads you through the halls of Malfoy Manor, past the numerous locked doors and through sparsely furnished corridors.

As soon as you arrive in the long, dark dining room, your breath gets stuck in your throat when you look over your father's shoulder, only to see many faces that you would not have expected to see here. Especially not the face of a specific someone since you originally assumed that you would only gather here to discuss more wedding preparations.

"Oh, how nice! The Y/L/N family has finally made it", the Dark Lord grins devilishly, locking his cold eyes with you, and your father bows respectfully before you two sit down at the wooden table, directly across from Draco and his parents. He throws you an unsettling glance and your pulse rises immediately.

"Very well. Now that we are complete, let us begin", Voldemort speaks up treacherously while strutting around the end of the table, his wand openly displayed in his pale, bony hands.

If there is one wizard in this entire universe that you can't stand, it is definitely him, even though you are a Death Eater and thus belong to his close entourage.

But you never had a choice.

Your mother died during childbirth, but your father had already foreseen it and did not want it to come true. In order to prevent this, he ran to Voldemort and his people to beg for help. He so gladly granted him his wish, but only on the condition that his only daughter and heir to the wealthy Y/L/N family will become a Death Eater at the age of sixteen. And so it happened.

Of course he was not able to rescue your mother from death, but you are not sure whether you would be sitting here at this table right now without his help or if you would not have survived the birth either. Whatever it is, you do not know what you would have preferred.

All in all, you harbor an abysmally hatred for this man as well as for your own father, who simply sold his daughter to the evil in person. For nothing but an empty promise.

In your eyes this man is not and never will be your father. To you, he is nothing more than a ridiculous, old and bitter coward.

You hear Voldemort keep talking in the background, but his words do not go inside of your head and you just emotionlessly stare at Draco on the other side, who switches his intimidated gaze between you and the other end of the table. Only when you follow his gaze do you understand why he has this kind of an expression plastered all over his face.

At the other end, across from the position where Voldemort is currently making his hate speech against Harry Potter, a terrible looking woman hangs upside down from the ceiling, softly whimpering. Floating in the air by a spell, she moves around a bit and if it were not for her making quiet noises, you would have thought she was dead.

But when her empty gaze meets yours, an ice-cold shiver runs down your spine. It is Mrs. Burbage, your Muggle Studies teacher. You almost did not recognize her because of her distorted appearance. Her pale, lifeless face, however, seems to be staring at you, almost piercing through you, making you feel like it is your fault that she is hanging there.

You quickly turn away from her and look down at the empty table, which suddenly seems much more interesting than anything else in the room while you try not to let the deep, ingrained shock show. Taking in a deep breath, you only lift your head up again when a silver snake's head is thrown on the table, frightening you for a second.

Apparently Voldemort has just damaged Lucius Malfoy's wand in order to use it himself. The look on Lucius' face makes you shudder again. You have never seen him like this before and you have had to spend a lot of time with him and the other Death Eaters already.

Just as shocked as you are, Draco is as well while looking to his father. Draco, like you, never wanted to become a Death Eater, but his father's failures eventually forced him into this position and now you are both bound to the same horrible fate, caused by your own fathers.

While Voldemort continues to drag their family name into the dirt with his words, you and Draco just look at each other intensely. As if you could understand what is going on in the others' mind.

At least until a green spark flies across the table in the middle of you two and Nagini snakes over it shortly afterwards. Unnoticed, you move your chair back a litte. Already suspecting what is going to happen, you turn your head away and try to block out the disgusting and disturbing noises that are triggered by killing one of your favorite teachers.

In the end, however, you are unable to take it any longer, getting up and running out of the room with your head and shoulders lowered, but you can still hear how the Dark Lord declares the meeting finished as you run down the stairs. Holding your hand in front of your mouth, your insides make a flip and you feel incredibly sick all of a sudden when you come to a stop in one of the hallways.

Startled you turn around when you hear your name behind you, but as soon as you recognize that it is Draco who followed you, you crash into his arms and he catches you, protectively holding you against him.

"D-Draco", you bitterly sob into his chest and he just hugs you tighter, trying to calm you down.

"Shh, love. I know, I know", he silences you softly and puts his hand on the back of your head while you remain in this position for a few minutes. Until you hear your father's annoying voice.

Moving away from Draco and straightening your posture, you look in the direction from where your father is now running towards you, Narcissa closely behind him.

"Darling, there you are! I will go back home now and you will have a nice time here", he happily announces, not even noticing how miserable you are. But what else did you expect from him?

"We will take good care of her, don't worry", Narcissa smiles, but it does not quite reach her eyes and therefore stays cold. Your father seems satisfied by her answer and, together with all the other Death Eaters, leaves.

"I will make us some tea", Narcissa clears her throat and you follow her into the salon, your hands intertwined.

A few days later Draco and you comfortably lay on the couch in front of the big fireplace in the afternoon, an open book about potions in your lap, your head leaned against his broad shoulder. As you continue to rummage through your book, Draco gently takes your hand in his and smiles down at you before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Your little moment of peace and contentment, however, is quickly destroyed again when Bellatrix's crazy laugh echoes through the room.

"Draco, Y/N, my darlings! I searched for you everywhere", she giggles as she strolls towards you, pressing her wand against her temple as she stops in front of the sofa. You expectantly look up at her, waiting for her to explain why she so rudely interrupted your moment.

"Bellatrix! What is going on here?", Lucius suddenly rushes in after her, Narcissa following him, so that you are all gathered now.

"Oh! I assume you have already met our lovely guests", Bellatrix laughs and, as if on cue, two more men enter the living room. Death Eaters. Deeply breathing in shock, you abruptly get onto your feet when you discover that they did not come alone.

Hermione, Ron and someone who somehow looks like Harry Potter but isn't, are pushed ahead of them until they are ungently thrown to the ground, right in front of Bellatrix's feet.

"Welcome, welcome", she licks her lips bloodthirstily, a playful laugh escaping her throat as your gaze meets Hermione's. There is nothing but disappointment in her eyes. Disappointed that you do not step in, that you just watch.

You avert your gaze and look at the other person and the longer you look at him, the more it becomes clear to you that this is Harry Potter after all. Terrible things have been done to his face that made you barely recognize him.

"Why are they here?", you choke out and Bellatrix turns to you in amusement, giggling while mockingly sulking as she presses her knife against Harry's throat.

"Why not? Well, Draco! Why don't you come over here and and take a closer look", she urges Draco and he slowly loosens his grip on your hand, not even realizing how hard you have squeezed his. He cautiously walks towards his aunt, even though you would like to stop him immediately.

"Come closer. What does he look like to you, huh?", she asks him and Draco stops right in front of them.

He hesitates.

Lucius suddenly stirs next to you and puts his hand on Draco's back, whispering something into his ear which you can't hear before he raises his voice out of nowhere when one of the Death Eaters intervenes. Narcissa manages to calm Lucius down though and pull him away from their son.

"Don't be shy, sweetie. Come over", Bellatrix persuades him and takes his hand to pull him closer to the disfigured Harry, giving him a better view. You can clearly see the fear in Harry's eye that is not swollen, and something deep inside of you keeps telling you that it would not be right to betray him. You are about to step in when Draco mutters under his breath for the first time since they entered the room, kneeling down in front of Harry.

"What is wrong with his face?"

"Yes, what is wrong with his face?", Bellatrix counters and adresses the two men, but you automatically block out their conversation, only being able to concentrate on Harry and Draco. Draco examines his face closely, but you are sure that he too immediately recognized that it is actually Harry. However, he gets up with a shake of his head and remains silent.

You just do not understand why he does not say anything.

Maybe he never wanted to become a Death Eater either, but still, you always had different views on Harry Potter and his Gryffindor friends. He loathed them since first year, and yet he does not betray him now.

The sudden screeching by Bellatrix and the following fighting noises release you from your numbness and you only see how she orders the now injured men to disappear, a silver sword in her hand that was not there before.

"Put the boys in the cell! I will have a conversation with this one", she angrily growls and pushes Harry and Ron to Narcissa and Wormtail, who take them to the basement. "Get out!"

Not being able to move from the spot, you stop and do not obey her instructions, making her give you an aggressive look until Draco quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you away from the scene, Hermione now alone with Bellatrix.

You have just left the room when you hear a terrible scream from behind you and there is no doubt that it came from Hermione.

"What is she doing to her, Draco?", you furiously ask him and pull your hand out of his strong grip, a little too strong for your liking.

"I don't know. Let us go upstairs and-"

"No!", you interrupt him angrily and his eyes widen at your sudden outburst, not expecting it.

"No?"

"I am not just going to look away when someone is tortured!", you yell at him and immediately turn around to go back, but Draco stops you.

"You can't do anything for her, Y/N! It is the best idea if we just stay quiet and let it happen. I can't risk them harming you as well", he explains and his voice softens towards the end, almost gets vulnerable, which is why the tension in your body slowly fades.

"But Draco.. This is Harry Potter and if your aunt finds out about it, he is doomed!", you sadly whisper and place your hands on his chest, fists clenched.

"Do you think I do not know? I do not want them to get him either, but we have no choice if we want to stay safe, my love", Draco sighs and lowers his head in defeat, his left hand clasping and loosening your fist, the cold rings on his finger slightly touching your skin. "Promise me that you will stay safe here with me."

"I-I.. I promise", you nod and avert your gaze, unable to look in his eyes while uttering such a lie. However, Draco has no chance to say anything about it when in the next moment a loud clink shakes the walls of the mansion.

Throwing a shocked look at each other, you quickly return to the room and abruptly stop in the middle when you see Narcissa defending attacks by Harry and Ron. Lucius growls behind you and you see him laying on the glass table that probably was destroyed by the impact of his body hitting against it. You are about to pull out your wand when Bellatrix loudly yells.

"STOP!"

Everyone's gaze falls on the knife she is holding against Hermione's throat and you discover a bleeding wound on her forearm, the word 'mudblood' cut deeply into her skin. Bellatrix's work.

"Drop your wands!", she orders and shortly afterwards they fall to the ground. "Pick them up, Draco!"

With you by the hand, Draco quickly picks up their wands and leads you back to his parents, his body blocking you protectively as he stands in front of you.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. It's Harry Potter", Bellatrix whisper-yells into Hermione's ear, who is trying to suppress her sobs while Harry's face is suddenly turning back to normal. "Just in time for the Dark Lord.. Call him!"

The last command coming from her mouth makes you swallow hard, but the lump in your throat won't go away. Especially not when all eyes are on you and Draco alone now. Their faces soaked in expectation and disappointment, it only intensifies the conflict within you.

"Call him!"

Releasing you from your suffering, Lucius steps forward when neither Draco nor you stir a single bit, pulls up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his forearm, the same one that painfully adorns your skin as well and always reminds you of who you have to obey. You see how the snake slowly winds around the skull and you look back and forth between him and Hermione, trembling.

"I am sorry, Draco", you breathe out barely audible, closing your eyes while doing so before letting go of his hand.

In a matter of seconds, you raise your wand, aim at the magnificent chandelier on the ceiling that is directly above Bellatrix and Hermione, and the following words fall off your lips with sudden ease.

"Confringo!"

All at once everything that happens next is like in slow motion. The huge chandelier crashes down onto the parquet, freeing Hermione from Bellatrix's grip and you are thrown to the ground as well. Raising your blurry gaze again, you see feet right in front of you and are suddenly pulled up onto your legs again.

By no other than Harry.

He brings you to the others and the last thing you see is the hurt, disappointment and heartbreak on Draco's pale face as you feel a stabbing, sharp pain from both your own broken heart and the dagger piercing through your skin that was thrown by Bellatrix before you vanish into thin air.

466 notes · View notes

youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Hope in the sheets.9

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 4.2k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Implied sex, pregnancy, implied reader has baby.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Waking up every morning beside his childhood friend, his most trusted confidant, former neighbor, and the woman he was utterly in love with, was always the most amazing thing. When the two of you had confessed your feelings to one another in the darkness, solidifying the moment with the best sex Hoseok had ever had. Well, that was even better.

Brushing a few strands of hair out of your face he admired just how beautiful you were. Memories of the two of you flooding back; at your school prom when Hoseok had been too nervous to tell you how he felt. Whilst the two of you were in college and you kissed him during a drinking game. When you both applied for jobs at the amusement park and the two of you swore that if neither of you got accepted then neither of you wanted to work there. The times you would knock on his door when your shower stopped working, or the time you both spent tickets to go to Yoongi’s performance across the country and spent the rest of the month without any electricity. He thought you looked so beautiful in candlelight.

There were so many moments he told himself that he should tell you how he felt but he repressed it, unsure how or if your relationship would change. What you had going was good and he would rather spend his life by your side watching you smile than a second away.

It had been hell without you in his life. You had been slowly pulling away from him since you found out about the pregnancy. He felt it the day you moved out, he had knocked on your door and almost had a breakdown. Even that wasn’t as bad as your fight, when he found out you had lied it was like the ultimate rejection.

It was like you didn’t want him to be a part of any of this, that you would rather erase him from your life and pretend the baby wasn’t his. He felt rejected and he reacted badly, he drove and cried, he drank and waited for any excuse to bring you back. He said some nasty things in an effort to remove the hurt from him, to target it somewhere else but seeing you cry only made him hurt worse.

It was after all this that he grew even more depressed, the thought that it was over, your friendship, the bond you shared that spanned over years shattered into pieces. All he could think about was apologizing and begging for you to let him stay, as a friend, as a father, even as a servant, he was desperate.

You were his oxytocin and he was addicted. He never felt love or happiness when you were gone. Stirring he leaned over to pepper kisses over your cheeks the fear in his chest that last night's actions might be classified as a late-night compulsive activity. Like dying your hair and cutting bangs, something you know you shouldn’t but you do because you can’t help it.

“Good morning, Lil darling,” he said, taking a slow breath as you stretched as if preparing for the worst. He prayed that your eyes would fall on him with love and not disgust.

“Hi,” your face split into a wide grin and you buried your face in your little hands.

“Hey, what are you shy for?” he said, picking up on your playful and giddy mood.

“We had sex.” You snickered into your palms and he tried to pry your arms free. “Wait no, I am not ready to look at you.”

“Was it bad, love?” Hoseok whispered quietly hoping that you didn’t regret it. If you did, he would play it cool, take it like a gentleman, and move on as just your friend.

“No, it was nice…” you said peeking through your fingers, “and you were really good”

“I was good?” He grinned, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, I really had a good time.”

“But?”

“No buts, I was just going to ask if perhaps you might want to do it again sometime.”

Hoseok’s smile was so wide his lips pulled up until they were shaped like a heart, “Whenever you would like.” He kissed your palms and slid the blankets down making you grab for them.

“Hey Woah, I am naked!” You scolded him.

“I know silly, I want to say good morning to my baby.” He gave you a face as if he was trying to challenge you to a fight, not a real one, the silly kind with tickles. “Plus I saw this beautiful body last night.”

He pulled the blanket down and your hands covered your bare chest, he giggled and exposed your rounded tummy and leaned down whispering something you couldn’t hear and he planted multiple kisses to the fullness until the baby kicked back against his lips. He looked offended, his face down turning as if he was about to cry and he held his chin turning to you.

“Hobi got kicked! Baby doesn’t like Hobi!” You were cackling. Hoseok knew how much you loved his aegyo and how much it made you laugh. Your laugh made his heart flutter and you shot out of bed, all thoughts of nudity out the window.

“I have to go pee. You can’t make me laugh like that Hobi, I am pregnant!” you accused and shut the bathroom door behind you.

The two of you ended up showering together, hands wandering each other's bodies some more. “I wish I wasn’t huge, it would be easier to have sex and I would feel a lot sexier.”

“I am sorry you feel that you aren’t sexy but I disagree, Lil darling, I think you are the most captivating being in my life before you were pregnant, while you are pregnant, and when you have the baby too.”

“Come on Hobi, the class is going to start,” you arrived and took a seat on a bright yellow mat and Hoseok sat behind you pulling you back into his chest. He peppered your jawline with kisses making you laugh.

“Welcome back, Mummies and Daddies.” The woman walked in, her light green polo with a stalk on the front and the company logo. She looked happy to see you two again. Smiling at how affectionate you two had become. “How are we all today, let’s go around the room and talk about what's been happening?”

Hoseok was diligently learning how to bathe and dress and hold the baby, he was doing really well and you felt the tears fall before you knew it. “What is wrong mummy?” The woman knelt beside me.

“I just, I was doing this on my own and I was so scared, but seeing Hobi doing so well, I just felt like this weight had been lifted and I am so proud and I love him so much.” Your voice was distorted by the strain of trying to hold back your sobs.

“Do you hear that, Mummy Hope says she was scared about having to do everything on her own but when she saw Daddy Hope doing well it lifted a weight off her shoulders. Let's all take a moment to understand that every mummy gets scared. Do you get scared Mummies? Do any daddies feel out of place?”

“I felt kind of out of place at the beginning but knowing that I could provide some sort of comfort and relief to my partner, I will try my best.” The young man spoke honestly for a moment and smiled at his partner.

“Thank you so much, Daddy Mogi,” The woman said. “It is nice to let each other know how much you appreciate their contribution. I am sure Mummy Mogi and Daddy Hope feel really happy to have such wonderful partners.”

Hoseok nodded, crawling over and kissing you softly. “You don’t have to do everything alone. I am going to be there. We got this.”

The night ended with a weak juice and cheesecake slice, you watched Hoseok talking with the other dads happily. “He really adores you, it’s cute,” the woman from the blue mat smiled. She and her partner chose the name kimchi.

“I think I remember you saying you were both friends when you first came here.” You blushed, filling them in on the story. They loved the gossip and were so happy you two had found each other.

“Not long now.” the instructor smiled looking at your belly. “I have a few little activity sheets here, just fun things you and your partner might enjoy.”

Friday came around and the two of you arrived at ‘Jin and Tonic’ for pizza night and stayed for some dancing. You ordered a cold lemonade at the bar, in a baby doll dress that did nothing to hide your voluptuous figure. You didn’t notice all the men staring but Hoseok sure did. He was excited that the gang was all back together. He loved this little family all of you had made and the new additions were well welcomed.

“Who is this Yummy mummy at the bar?” Hoseok slid up to the bar beside you, “I will have what she's having.”

“One lemonade coming right up,” Jimin said, disengaging from his longing gaze at Taehyung, who sat across the bar trying to appear nonchalant, but the guy couldn’t even drink alcohol without cringing and gagging. He was currently nursing a Fanta, watching Jimin from behind his bangs.

“How are you and Taehyung going?” You asked Jimin. “Did he come over for the photoshoot?”

“He did and we didn’t do anything, he took pictures and I was naked but he kept telling me he didn’t want me to do anything for free as he respected my business and wanted to support me.” Jimin sighed, “I work two jobs and I don’t want him to pay. Do I look like I need support?”

You could practically see Jimin stomp his foot along with the pout on his lips, “I think your ass needs some support, and Taehyung’s hands are big enough to do the job.”

Jimin giggled, “doesn’t he just.”

“Perhaps you need to ask Taehyung on a date?” You suggested. “He might be nervous because he is showing interest but you aren’t. He might think you only see him as a sugar daddy.”

“As in I, Park Jimin, go up to that god of a man and ask him if he would go on a date with me?” He said shocked.

“I am saying you, Jimin Eubegene Wolfgang Park the Third, go ask him to go on a date.”

“Oooh… she used your full name, be scared. She is a mum now!” Seokjin laughed, the high pitch sound filling the bar area.

“That’s not my name.” Jimin pouted again

“Mum has spoken, go ask the poor boy out, he is desperate,” Yoongi muttered wiping his face on a cool towel handed to him by Jin, who also gave him an ice-cold lemonade. “I have to get back soon but I will let this remix finish.”

The group watched intrigued by the confident sugar baby, becoming timid and nervous as he walked over to his admirer. You couldn’t hear anything but you saw Taehyung smile making a gesture like he was taking photos and describing something with an animated expression and a grin.

Jimin walked back a pout on his lips and once back he let out a sigh and you felt bad for the poor boy, but you could understand Taehyung's hesitance. “Give it some time, there will be a moment where he can no longer refuse. His feelings will grow too strong and he will come for you.”

“I am ready to give everything up for him, I am ride or die, right now.” Jimin whined, “have you just looked at someone and thought, this is the one, they are my soulmate.”

“Everyday,” Hoseok smiled at you and you blushed but nodded.

“I am going to go to the bathroom.” You slid off the barstool rubbing your back and slowly shuffled along the edge of the room escorted by Hoseok who kept a keen eye out for any trouble, not wanting you to get bumped too hard on your journey. He also helped your travel by stopping any unsolicited hands from rubbing your belly.

“You good?” Hoseok asked outside the bathrooms, concern in his eyes because he couldn’t accompany you inside.

“I can take care of this part myself, trust me I have done this a thousand times.” You kissed him and went to take care of your lemonade strained bladder. It seemed the sugar and cool temperature had your baby kicking a little stronger and if you didn’t go now one wrong move and you would not make it. Ah, the joys of pregnancy.

Sitting down you felt your stomach tense. It was mild, nothing excruciating, perhaps you had sat down wrong, you didn’t want a repeat of the Braxton hicks situation. Taking note of the time you marked it in your app and went to wash your hands. You smiled, feeling a small sense of pride at the feeling of being more mature.

It wasn’t uncommon before you were pregnant to be in these bathrooms and unable to see, the feeling of being out of control scary, exhilarating, and a little addictive. You were much happier now, you felt physically stronger, you felt like you had started organizing your life prioritizing your health.

It was funny. You were out of your mind scared at the idea of having a baby, petrified of what was to come, but you were feeling like somehow it was your turning point to do something with your life to get everything on track. You had goals that you had not only worked towards but had accomplished and that feeling lasted longer and gave more gratification than one night of alcohol-induced numbness and two days of recovery.

Waddling out to Hoseok you grinned shyly at him, something about the way he was standing under the soft glowing lights looking at his phone with a soft smile. Walking closer you looked at the screen seeing your sleeping face. He was kissing your nose, you would have scolded him for taking an embarrassing picture but you both looked so cute.

“Lil darling,” He smiled down at you, “I care about you more than anything in this world.”

“I love you Hobi, kiss me.” He tilted your head up delicately by the chin and kissed you slowly. You were mid-kiss when you pulled back, struck with an extreme craving. “Can we sit in Seokjin’s office and order a fried chicken? I’m hungry.”

The two of you giggled before running behind the counter to Seokjin’s office as he scolded, “YA! You two keep it clean, I know how you got pregnant and I don’t want any repeats in my office.”

Your laughter rang through the hall past the storage rooms and into the small office where you two both sat on the couch sighing in relief. Needing a seat with proper back support, you were aching so badly. “Lay down love.”

Hoseok let you lay your head on his lap and he slowly combed his fingers through the soft strands they had grown a lot since being pregnant. You had been considering a cut to keep it more manageable with a newborn.

You felt your stomach tighten, logging it into your app, you noticed it was thirty minutes from the first which wasn’t cause for alarm just yet. The conversation was slow as Hoseok began ordering a half and half of fried chicken, he was just talking about random things at work.

“Move in with me.” Your voice was definite and Hoseok stopped ordering and grinned. “I want you to live with me.”

“Really, you want me to live with you?” He seemed surprised and you wondered if there was something you didn’t take into account, had you jumped in too quickly.

“You already stay over every night.” You reasoned, “saves bus fares back and forth and my place is closer to your work than yours.”

“I work from home at the moment because I wasn’t quite sure when to take paternity leave.” He whispered gently, his smile made him look so soft. “You want me to move in Lil darling?”

“Of course, I love you Hobi.”

“Am I moving in?” He giggled excitedly and you sat up equally excited by his contagious laughter, “I am going to wake up to your pretty face every day.”

The food arrived and you used Jin's toilet quickly, stepping out confused. You were excited for Chicken but you were wondering if you might actually be going into early labor. You made sure to pay more attention to your body and when another cramp took over your stomach you marked it on your app. This one felt as mild as the last but it had come a few minutes quicker than the last.

Your instructor told you to relax and keep calm in this stage to conserve your energy and you were going to follow her guidance. The contractions were pretty consistent in the pattern but didn’t quite grow intense or come any quicker.

The two of you cleaned up the food mess, you would have already headed home but Yoongi was going to drop you home that night with some meals he and Jin had made for you. Hoseok pulled you to his chest and the two of you slept to the muffled bass from the dance floor. It was quite peaceful. You fell asleep stirring only slightly to the tightening of your stomach. It was one particular contraction that made you gasp and sit up. You checked the time and marked it on the app.

You had slept and failed to record all your contractions. You were trying to breathe through the tight feeling rubbing the circumference of your stomach and pacing slowly.

“Is something wrong?” Hoseok mumbled sitting up and looking at you, “do you have a pain in the tummy, is the baby okay?”

“I have been having contractions for a while, but you know the lady said to relax and eat to preserve energy and so I wasn’t worried but this one was a little stronger, I just have to wait and see the timing between the contractions to see if we do anything yet.” He stepped behind you, holding your belly in his hands and taking the weight relieving the stress on your back.

“She said when the contractions last for 45-60 seconds and they are 3-5 minutes apart that is active labor.” Hoseok had been paying attention in class and it warmed your heart. “They said if you go too early you will be sent back home to wait for the labor to progress.”

Hoseok swayed you both gently and you laid your head back on his shoulder, he could tell you were nervous and he began singing low in his ear the vibrations of his chest were enough to make you relax. It was as you relaxed than another contraction occurred. Looking at the app they were about ten minutes apart and you were sure this was it.

“Would you like to go now?” Hoseok said worriedly, kissing your neck and hugging you a little tighter.

“No, but we should probably get the hospital bag.” You mumbled, “I don’t want you to leave though.”

“Text Taehyung and get him in here.” You nodded, texting the young man and smiling as he cautiously entered. “Hey Taehyung, can you do us a favor?”

“Uh, I don’t make adult films, but you could probably get Jungkook if you were persuasive. He has some good quality video cameras.” Taehyung said nervously, the two of you laughed as you swayed gently.

“No, we were wondering if you were interested in going to my house and picking up my hospital bag. You have a license don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He spoke, eyeing you up and down for signs you were going to pop out a baby. “What does it look like?”

“It is one bag just inside the front door that looks like this,” Hoseok said as you showed him a picture on your phone and he nodded, commenting on the cute star pattern on the bag. “You might have to ask Jimin about stealing his keys.”

“Oh and Taehyung about Jimin, he really likes you, really likes you and well he wants to try dating without the sugar baby business. He wants to date you without money.” You were stepping in hoping to help Taehyung realize how much he loved Jimin and how much Jimin loved him. The two were both too scared to admit it, reminding you of how things were with Hoseok before you both confessed. “He has been upset that you have been refusing to see him. Have a think about your feelings and when you are sure you know what you want, then let him know.”

It was a whole lot of waiting and feeling uncomfortable, there wasn’t really anything you could do but wait. Taehyung returned with your bag and you waited, chatting together for half an hour before deciding to use Seokjin’s laptop to watch movies in hopes of passing the time.

The music stopped and you realized it was one in the morning and time for lockout. “You looked at the app that was tracking your contractions and as you logged the next contraction you saw the words at the top change from early labor to active labor. The three of you abandoned ‘Meet the Robinsons’ and headed down the hall back to the bar area.

The place cleared out pretty quick, designated drivers carrying away their drunk friends. Namjoon and Jungkook helped lead out any reluctant frequenters and gave them a friendly good night.

“Hey Yoongi, I was wondering instead of dropping me off at home, you could drop me off at the hospital. I have been in labor for about seven hours now and well I think it is time I go as things seem to be picking up.” Yoongi and Jungkook, who had both been packing up the sound system, looked shocked. Jin threw down the cloth and raced over,

“Pack the van we are going,” he called and began gathering everyone and locking up. There was a shout from the bathrooms that made you jump for a second. “JIMIN EGGPLANT HUBERT WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU DOING?”

“I am cleaning up vomit and I told you that isn’t my name.” You could hear the pout in his tone before a shout, Jin walked out with Jimin over his shoulder. “Hyung put me down. Don’t you damage these goods!”

Hoseok playfully smacked Jimin’s behind as he passed by receiving a growl, “Hey! The exchange rate for a butt slap is a pair of Chanel earrings Hoseokie. Hands off what you can’t afford.”

“We haven’t got time, the baby is coming!” Jin screeched.

“I thought you said the baby was coming, it’s been 3 hours?” Jimin sighed, flipping through his third trashy magazine from four April’s ago. “I am not working tomorrow if the bar smells like vomit.”

Jungkook was asleep leaning against Namjoon with Namjoon’s coat wrapped around him. Everyone was bored and Jin and Yoongi went for coffee. Taehyung was trying to stay awake and talk to Jimin, but he kept falling asleep. He grew restless in his half woke state and took Jimin's hand in his before promptly falling asleep.

Throwing the magazine aside, Jimin crossed one leg over the other resting his head on his hand and elbow on his knee turning slightly to gaze at the sleeping Taehyung.

“Why didn't she want me to go in?” Hoseok said, worried about hearing your small cry of pain “I want to help her, I want to be there”

“You have to respect her decision. I watched my niece come into the world in the back of my brother's car and I cannot look my sister-in-law in the face again. I think that's when I started dating guys for a while,” Yoongi laughed, “It will scar you. You would be so worried to touch y/n if you saw her give birth and you would beat yourself up over her being in pain. You would be a sobbing mess. We know you Hobi, it’s best you stay out here.”

There was a lot of noise from the birthing suite and Jungkook woke up looking nervously around, before the piercing cry of a newborn filling the halls, and the boys stood up hugging Hoseok who had broken down into tears. They slapped his back cheering and the nurse came out shushing them.

“It’s four in the morning, try to keep it down.”

“How is she? How is Y/n?” Jin asked as Hoseok was unable to articulate anything clinging to him and sobbing.

“She is very good, a very strong young woman. She had a little baby girl, if you give her a moment to clean up and settle the baby you can all go in for a quick visit, and then you will all have to go home as visiting hours have long since been over.” she smiled at them all before patting Hoseok’s back “Congratulations.”

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Tags: @brbkpop @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @munchyn @unadulteratedlyunique @jinhitwhore @knjkitten @jooniesdimples70307 @the-snowbear25 @yoobikook @moments-of-melancholy @bratzkoo @theadorkablezaza @crustycaitlin @verasays @usagiserenity530 @carmxx @alexalbby @seolaquotes @sunshinejunghoseokie @extraordinary_reads @ireallylikeyourwriting @littletinyhobi @myspi2010 @safi4x @joohyunzie

(Please remember to have your tag settings on so you can recieve notifications about updates)

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]

‘Reblog’ this post with the hashtag #J-HITS (J-Hope in the sheets)

Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

142 notes · View notes