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writemywaytoyourheart · 3 years

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Aim For The Heart | Chapter 16: Heartstrings

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 7.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, teenage heartbreak :(, two bumbling fools that are emotionally constipated, I think that’s it

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

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6 years ago:

"Mina, I'm so nervous!"

Mina laughs lightly at the way you bounce up and down on your bed, "It'll be fine, ____! He'll totally like you back, girl don't even worry about it!"

You let out a nervous giggle as you jump off your bed and run to your closet, "What should I wear?"

"____, you literally have a school uniform," Mina laughs again.

You turn and pout at her, "Heyy, I know that! I was asking which one I should wear, the burgundy socks or the white ones? Tie or no tie? Blazer or no blazer? Long-sleeved or short?"

Mina shakes her head in amusement, "You're cute and he'll think so no matter what you wear," She rubs her chin in thought, "But definitely the white socks, the burgundy tie with the grey sweater vest instead of the blazer, and long sleeves."

You do a little dancy dance of excitement before grabbing the decided clothes out of your closet and hurrying to pull them on. Mina is already dressed in her uniform, waiting patiently as she sits on your bed.

When you're all ready to go, you grab the little box on your bedside table and run out of your room, causing Mina to stumble after you.

_______

By the time lunch rolls around, you're buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see him.

Not to mention being able to finally tell him how you feel.

Mina is by your side the whole way to your locker as you grab the little box out.

She nudges your shoulder as you two walk to the cafeteria, "You can do this, ____."

You nod, your tummy all in knots to the point that you're not sure if you'll even be able to eat.

Despite that, you finish everything on your tray while your legs bounce in anticipation.

Once you two make your way outside to the field, you are trying your hardest not to hightail it back inside. Mina holds your arm though, preventing you from doing so.

"You can't back out now, babe."

Mina's words terrify you but you know she's telling the truth, you can't just go on without at least trying.

A bunch of kids are milling around outside, some of the boys showing off to the girls as they size how tall they are compared to each other.

Then you see him, in all his glory.

He's standing in the field with a few other boys from his class, chatting.

His dark blonde hair glistens in the sunlight as he laughs at something one of his friends said.

You feel your heart leap to your throat and you freeze, "I- I can't..."

"____," Mina turns to you, placing her hands on your shoulders, "I am not about to let you give up now, not right before you do it! Just go over there. If you can't speak, then just hand it to him, simple as that. He'll understand when he opens it anyway."

You nod stiffly, "What about his friends?" Your voice shakes, "I'm scared to do it in front of them."

Mina nods, "I got this."

You're about to protest but she's gone, already marching her way over to them.

You watch in embarrassment as Mina taps one of the boys on the shoulder. He turns and smiles when he sees her. Mina is gorgeous, of course he'd smile when she spoke to him.

You're really her only friend, as she is yours, but the boys are constantly swarming around her nonetheless.

You start to feel self-conscious when you see the boy making your heart thump heavily look at Mina and smile brightly.

Shoot, what if he likes her?

You can't compare to her.

Besides, she's your best friend, you'd give him up for her if she wanted him.

You'd do anything for her.

You snap out of it when you see Mina leading the two boys that were with him away, then she gestures at you behind her back.

You force your feet to move as you hurry over to him before he moves on to talk with someone else.

Just as he's turning, you're coming up.

He almost bumps into you, a surprised gasp slipping from his lips as he notices you.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't see you there."

You smile crookedly, "It's- It's fine!" You squeak out.

His smile widens as he looks at you, "You're ____, right? Tenth grade?"

You nod like a darn bobblehead, your words suddenly stuck in your throat.

He's so handsome.

And cute.

And sweet.

And thoughtful.

And-

"I'm Jimin," He reaches a hand out to you, "It's nice to officially meet you."

You take his hand, letting him shake it as his bright smile continues to beam.

"I know, um," You need to get it together, "You're in eleventh."

He nods, "Yes, only one and a half years left of these ridiculous uniforms," He chuckles.

You nod stupidly, "Uh, yeah," A nervous laugh slips from your mouth.

Just do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

"I uh- I have something for you."

He looks at you with curiosity, his pretty eyes glancing down to the box in your hands.

Then his smile fades.

Your heart stops in your chest when you see the look of recognition on his face.

He's been confessed to before, of course he has.

Your shoulders slump.

You just want the ground to open up and swallow you.

He looks back up at you and gives you a gentle smile.

The smile of rejection.

"____, you're really sweet-"

Oh, no.

"I would say yes in a heartbeat, really. You're different from the other girls here, you care about people, I can tell. I've seen it-"

"But?" Your voice comes out as a whisper.

His smile turns sad, "But there's a girl I like already. I'm sorry, ____."

It feels like someone just tore out your heart and stomped it into the ground.

You don't say anything.

You can't.

It hurts too much.

You just open the box and pull out the note, tucking it into your palm before closing the box again and handing it to him.

Jimin takes it reluctantly, still watching you carefully, his eyes sad and regretful.

"____-"

"I hope you like the cookies," You smile at him, finally meeting his eyes, "Just think of it as a friendship gift, nothing more."

Jimin nods, still looking guilty as hell.

"I hope it works out for you Jimin, I really do."

"Thank you, ____."

Then you turn and walk away, pieces of your heart falling behind you with each step you take.

A minute later you hear Mina calling to you, but you don't stop.

You hurry inside and to the locker rooms.

You're hiding in a stall when you hear the door to the girls' locker room open and Mina's voice call out, "____, are you in here?"

You don't answer and a moment later the door shuts, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You curl up, pulling your knees to your chest as the tears finally come.

You wish you could just disappear.

The thought that you need to see him the rest of this school year and the next before he leaves is sickening.

Your heart has never hurt more than it does now, it feels like a bunch of swords are impaling it over and over again.

Fourth grade.

You had liked him since you were in fourth grade, he was in sixth.

It was the day that you had tripped and spilled your lunch tray all over yourself.

This angel had appeared, pulling you to your feet with the brightest smile you'd ever seen. He had taken you to get another uniform in the office and even got you another tray of food.

He only ever said hello in passing after that, but you were infatuated.

You thought you had loved him.

Another sob cuts through the silence in the locker room as you realize you don't want it anymore.

You hope you never fall for anyone again.

Love is just a terrible joke, made to hurt the weakest, the ones that fall for it.

________________

"____?"

The handsome man standing before you makes your heart lurch.

What kind of joke is this?

You take a step back and clear your throat, "P-P-Park J-Jimin?"

His smile returns as he lets out a small laugh of disbelief, "You remember me?"

You nod reluctantly.

Jimin looks into your eyes just like he did that one day in elementary school, an angel appearing out of nowhere to save you.

"But, how?" He asks, clearly bewildered, "After the accident, you never..."

You suddenly realize you're standing there like an idiot, so you open the door wider and gesture for him to come in.

He walks in and sets the pizza you ordered on your kitchen table.

"D-Do you have t-t-time to talk?" You ask bravely.

Jimin nods, "Of course."

You two end up on the couch, an awkward silence falling around you.

You can't look him in the eyes because every time you do, he's just staring at you like you're the lost puppy he'd been looking for for years.

"It's been so long," Jimin says quietly, "It's been like six years since we actually spoke."

You nod, "The d-d-day you rejected me."

When you look up at him he looks heartbroken, so you give him a small smile, "I'm j-just giving you a hard t-t-time."

Jimin nods sadly, "I'm so confused. I just- I thought you had forgotten me after you were in the hospital..."

You say nothing so he continues, "No, you did. You did forget about me, I tried talking to you and-"

"I know," You whisper, "I'm s-s-sorry Jimin, but I lied."

That makes him freeze.

"You and M-Mina were the only two I r-r-really remembered."

It's silent for a minute, then he whispers, hurt, "But why?"

You look back at him, "It h-h-hurt too much to talk to y-you. I'm sorry."

Jimin nods sadly, "Don't apologize, I understand. But, how did you remember me?"

You laugh, embarrassed, "I had k-kind of been in l-l-love with you since elementary s-school."

Jimin's eyes bulge out of his head, "What?"

"Yeah, since w-we met. After you had h-h-helped me clean the mess I made." Jimin looks lost for a minute, then his eyes light up with recognition, "Oh! Oh, really?"

You nod, another laugh slipping out.

"So, you didn't lose your memory of me...because you still had your memories from elementary school?"

Another nod.

"But then, how did you remember me rejecting you?" The words taste bitter in his mouth.

You shrug, "I don't know, I j-j-just did. A few th-things came b-back to me after leaving the h-hospital."

"I'm sorry that had to be one of them," Jimin whispers.

"It's o-okay, you had n-no obligation to like me b-back," You take a deep breath, already feeling better after getting that off your chest, "Whatever h-happened to the girl y-y-you had liked? Did you a-ask her out?"

Jimin nods with a sad smile, "Yeah."

"A-And?"

"We dated until college...then I found out she cheated on me and we broke up."

Your heart breaks at that, "J-Jimin, I'm so-sorry."

"Don't be, it was for the best."

You sit in more silence for a bit, but this time it feels more comfortable.

Then Jimin speaks up again, "So what are you up to these days, ____? Any special man in your life?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you jokingly.

You laugh, "I am a k-k-kindergarten t-teacher."

Jimin's eyes light up, "Really? Congratulations, ____. You seriously deserve it."

"Th-Thank you. And w-what about you?"

Jimin sighs and gestures at his outfit, "Clearly I'm not as successful as you," You laugh and shake your head as he continues, "I'm just working this delivery job until I get my foot in the door for some journalist positions."

Your eyes grow wide, "R-Really?"

He nods, "I've always wanted to be a reporter, a journalist, something like that. It's a lot harder than it looks though."

You nod, "W-Well I'm rooting for y-you."

"Thank you," He smiles warmly at you, "You were always the sweetest."

You blush at that and Jimin continues, "You never answered my previous question," He squints at you playfully as he points at you, "Any special guys?"

You're about to shake your head, then Jungkook pops into your brain.

His dark eyes penetrating your thoughts, his rosebud lips sneaking into your mind.

Jimin sees you hesitate and a knowing smile grows on his face, "Ah-ha! There is someone!"

You look at him, blushing profusely, "Th-There isn't-"

"Liar!" Jimin cackles, clapping his hands, "You are so in love!"

His words startle you, "I'm n-not! It isn't l-like that."

Jimin wipes at the gleeful tears in his eyes as he leans closer to you, inspecting your face carefully.

"I know that look, ____. You're smitten."

You splutter, "I-I-I am n-not smitten!"

Jimin smirks at you and you fight the urge to smack him.

Then he glances around your living room, "It's beautiful in here, did you decorate it yourself?"

You nod proudly, glad he's changed the subject.

You two make small talk for a few more minutes, just catching up on life.

Then Jimin looks at his watch, "Shit, I gotta go. Bossman will be livid with me for taking so long," He stands up and you follow him to the door.

"Thanks for having me, ____. It was wonderful to catch up with you."

You smile brightly, "I'm s-s-so glad that we were able to m-meet again."

Jimin gives you one last smile as he walks out the door, but before you can close it, he turns around, "Do you..."

You raise an eyebrow in question.

"Do you think we could meet up again sometime? Grab a coffee or something?"

You nod happily, "I w-w-would love that."

You end up exchanging numbers before he hurries on his way.

Closing the door, a huge smile spreads on your face.

Park Jimin.

Your first love.

Delivering a pizza to your door.

Who would've thought?

After a moment to process, you start to giggle uncontrollably.

What the heck just happened?

_____________

Jungkook is jogging up the stairs leading to your apartment when a pizza delivery guy comes down at the same time.

He smiles at Jungkook and moves past him.

Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook hurries to your door and knocks three times, waiting anxiously.

The door opens rather quickly like you'd been standing there.

"Ji- oh..."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at Jungkook.

He gives you a small smile, "Um, hi."

He sees you swallow thickly as you observe him, it takes you a minute to respond.

"H-Hi."

Jungkook bites his lip, not sure how to go about saying what he wants to say next.

"W-What are y-you doing here?" You beat him to it.

The way you say it makes his stomach turn a little.

When he doesn't respond, you sigh and reach up to rub your tired eyes, "J-Jungkook..."

He wishes he could say something, anything.

But it's like every single word he's ever known is suddenly gone out of his brain and he knows nothing.

You look so sleepy, the events from the past week are probably weighing on you right now.

Jungkook thinks as his gaze drifts over your exhausted face, his heart pulling apart in his chest as Mina's story comes barreling back into his mind.

After another beat of silence, Jungkook finally finds his voice and you decide to be honest with him at the same time.

"____, will you go somewhere with me-"

"J-Jungkook I'm t-tired of th-this-"

You both shut up and look at the other.

Jungkook's heart sinks in his chest at your words.

Your own heart feels like someone is poking at it with a sharp stick.

"What?" Jungkook whispers.

You cover your face with your hands, "I- I j-just..."

"Can I come in? Please?" Jungkook asks hopefully, wanting to correct things before shit hits the fan.

You nod and open the door wider for him to slip inside.

He immediately notices the pizza box on the table and his mind wanders back to the guy passing him earlier. He lets it go as he stands there, waiting for you to shut the door.

You do, then you walk over to the couch and plop down, curling your legs up and tucking them near you as you grab a pillow and hold it tightly to your chest.

Jungkook takes a few very deep and very calming breaths before walking over to the couch to sit down.

He needs to just keep breathing, or else he'll mess shit up again with his stupidity.

You fidget quietly as Jungkook stares at the Barbie movies in the glass cabinet under the TV. He doesn't know why he can't seem to look away from them.

"She just finds comfort in things like coloring, watching movies, eating sweets. Her brain was damaged, badly. But it's gotten so much better since then, she's made so much progress. She might act like a kid sometimes, but she isn't one and doesn’t think she is. ____ was innocent before and she's innocent now-"

Jungkook's breath hitches as he remembers Mina's words.

"Did y-you speak t-to M-Mina?"

Jungkook turns to you when you speak up quietly, noticing the way you won't even look at him. Your eyes are locked on the pillow in front of you as you pick at the loose threads.

"Yeah," He mumbles back.

You finally raise your eyes to his, "I- I think you sh-should leave."

Jungkook's heart stutters painfully.

"____, I need to talk to you."

"A-About what?"

"I-..." What does he say? He needs to get you out of here, he's run out of time, "I know this sounds dumb, but would you go somewhere with me? Just for a little bit."

You just stare at him, your eyes reflecting a pain he's never seen in you before, even after he was horrible to you in the rain, even after his dumb ass forced you to go home and ruined your day.

This pain is a first.

He shifts his body towards you more, "____, what's going on? Are you oka-"

"No."

He freezes, his mind short-circuiting at your bitter response.

"No, I'm n-not. I'm n-n-not okay."

You can see the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours and it makes your heart race.

You can't handle this.

You don't like pain, you don't like it.

You always run from it.

Maybe you are just a child.

More reason to put an end to this anyway.

The insecurities swarming your head finally come out, in an angry huff of air, startling Jungkook when you stand up abruptly, still gripping the pillow.

"I n-n-need you to leave."

Jungkook stands up too, his tall frame looming over you and making you look down at the ground.

"I can't," He mutters.

Your eyes trail up to his, anger burning in them.

Why is life so unfair?

Why can't someone just like you, for you?

Why does reality always have to come and bite you in the butt?

"Go to M-Mina," You seethe.

Jungkook looks at you like you're crazy, his mind going in circles trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about.

"____, what?"

"You h-h-heard me," You swallow the lump in your throat.

Curse this stupid stutter.

You can't even tell someone something and be taken seriously.

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, his confused gaze locked on your angered one.

"Why would I want to go to her?"

You scoff, making Jungkook take a step back to observe you in disbelief.

What happened to you?

Were you really that mad about him asking you for her number? He didn't need it because he liked that brat, he needed it because he needs to save you.

But you don't know that.

How could he expect you to?

"Just...get o-out," Your voice is thick with tears.

Jungkook shakes his head again and takes a step towards you, his hand stretched out.

But you step back, away from him.

"Stop h-h-hurting me!" You suddenly raise your voice. It isn't anywhere near a yell but it shocks him enough. You never raise your voice...

"I'm sorry-"

You close your eyes and take a long breath as if to calm yourself down.

"I kn-know you like M-Mina. Don't m-make me hurt anymore by h-having to let go while y-y-you're standing right in f-front of me!"

Jungkook steps forward and grabs your hand, but you don't open your eyes.

You dare not look at him.

Not ever again.

Or you'll break.

You love Mina more than anything, you'd do anything for her.

That's why she was always pushing you away from Jungkook.

She likes him.

And of course, he likes her back.

The pain in your heart is causing your breath to shorten.

If you look at him now, you won't have the strength to give him up for her.

"____, I swear I don't like her-"

It isn't true.

"I just needed to ask her something!"

Stop trying to spare me the pain, just leave me alone.

"____, please look at me," Jungkook pleads.

No.

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed tight.

Jungkook sighs in exasperation, "I had to ask her about your accident!!"

At that, your watery eyes slowly open.

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your beautiful eyes land on him.

Then you take your hand out of his and he feels his next breath stutter.

"What?" You whisper.

The words get caught in his throat for a second before he's able to shove them out, "I had to ask her about Kihyun, and the accident...I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I swear ____, I don't like her like that. Hell, I don't like her at all! Not to mention she hates my guts!"

Your jaw clenches and Jungkook wants to just beg you to listen to him, to please not be mad and just listen to him.

"I w-was in a c-c-car accident..."

Jungkook does a double-take at your words.

"What d-d-d-does that have t-to do with you or Kihyun? How is th-that any of your business?!"

Jungkook just stares at you as your face turns red, "I w-want you to leave me alone p-please. Stop playing w-with my h-heart and running out on m-me."

Jungkook feels like he's about to explode.

With anger, sadness, regret, and this weird protective stuffy feeling he gets when he's around you.

"I'm sorry-"

"And I f-forgave you."

He flinches at that.

"But an empty a-apology means n-nothing, J-Jungkook."

"It-...It isn't empty. ____, I know I'm stupid, I'm a grade A idiot! A fucking moron! But I never meant to hurt you by running out, I just- I panicked..." He's fumbling over his words, not even understanding what he's trying to say at this moment.

"W-Why would you g-go behind my back to t-talk about me?! Why not j-just come to me??"

"I didn't think you-"

"Didn't think I r-remembered it?"

Your voice is bitter, laced with hurt.

Jungkook nods slowly.

You scoff, "Y-You're right, I d-d-don't. I had to rely on M-Mina to tell me that m-my family died in a c-c-car crash and I w-was the only one that survived."

His chest hurts.

"Did y-you want to m-make fun of m-me? Figure out exactly w-why I sp-sp-speak like a fr-freak? Why everyone t-t-treats me like a ch-child?"

Jungkook's brows furrow, "Why on earth would you ever think something like that?"

"B-Because I'm n-not like you, J-Jungkook. You c-could get any g-g-girl that you want, but I w-was stupid enough to th-think it would be-...never m-mind."

Jungkook's brain is racing, he has no idea what you're getting at.

He doesn't understand what the hell girls are thinking or trying to say.

He knows he's an idiot, he doesn't know how to fix that.

But he needs to fix this.

And quickly.

He steps forward to grab your hands again, but this time you don't pull away, "____, I never meant to make you think I was using you to get to Mina if that's how you feel. I wasn't. I needed Mina to tell me because I was worried about you, I swear," His voice is firm.

You look at him, unsure.

Jungkook sighs, "I didn't go to you because I thought that you wouldn't remember, but more so because I didn't want to hurt you further if you did. I didn't want to stir up anything that you'd want to put away. I realize now that that was shitty of me to go behind your back, I should've come to you first, it was your story to tell. I'm sorry."

You blink, taken aback by how honest and sincere he seems right now.

You'd been hurting from all the running away and ignoring you and all that he's been doing recently.

This is the first time it feels like he's actually taking you seriously.

You bring your eyes up to his, "I'm s-s-sorry for lashing o-out. I have f-f-feelings like every-yone else and I w-was hurt."

Jungkook nods, "It's okay, I'm sorry too." His deep brown eyes search yours carefully as you continue, "You c-c-can like Mina, I-I-I underst-stand. She's b-beautiful..."

Jungkook takes you by surprise when he starts to chuckle. You look at him curiously, "W-Why are you l-l-laughing?"

Jungkook gently lets go of your hands, making you miss the warmth of them instantly.

He brings his hands up to run through his hair, "I can't believe you think I'd fall for Mina."

You scowl, "Why w-wouldn't you?"

Jungkook lets out an amused scoff, "She's not my type."

"Oh, y-yeah? What i-is your type then?"

He looks at you and you make eye contact for a second before your gaze darts away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook says teasingly, noting that your cheeks turn pink as you shake your head in denial, "I d-d-don't care."

He laughs lightly and you feel your heart lift in your chest.

A minute passes in silence as the two of you try to think of what to say next.

You're a bit embarrassed about your outburst, but you know he understands.

You were valid in your feelings and he seems genuinely sorry for everything.

Jungkook's head is in a completely different place, trying to go about how to ask you to leave Seoul with him.

This is ridiculous, you'll never agree.

You watch as Jungkook's eyes dart around the room as if he's trying to figure something out.

"Y-You okay?" You ask, a bit worried.

Jungkook looks up, his eyes finding yours.

Just do it, Jeon.

Don't be a wuss.

"Will you leave Seoul with me?"

He blurts it out, figuring he'll chicken out if he doesn't.

Your eyes widen and you're shocked into silence for a good minute.

When the initial shock leaves you, you blink a few times.

Jungkook just stands there stupidly.

"Um..."

He winces at your hesitation although it was inevitable.

"...w-why?"

Damn it, he knew you'd ask, you'd be stupid not to.

He needs to make something up, fast.

"This- this seems like the worst timing possible... But I was...invited to uhm, to a thing, a thing in uhm, in Busan. It's like uh, a uh, a school reunion? Thing? Kind of? It's uh...."

Fuck he's a bumbling idiot.

Before he can make a bigger fool out of himself, you burst into laughter.

His chest feels lighter at the sound.

Well, at least he made you laugh...

You wipe at your eyes as you double over in laughter, a good contrast to what you were doing a little while ago, so he'll take it.

Jungkook just stands there, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches you make fun of him.

When you finally catch your breath, you look at him to see him scowling darkly.

You feel like it would scare anyone else, but it doesn't scare you.

You poke at his chest, the last of the giggles leaving your lips.

Jungkook stiffens when you touch him, but he will not let you know that your touch affects him.

"Are you finished?" He asks, trying to appear unamused.

You nod, still wiping away the tears of mirth from your eyes.

"So, w-what you're tr-trying to say is, you want me to go to B-Busan with you for a school r-r-reunion?"

He nods in embarrassment at the silly lie.

You laugh again, "Well, w-why didn't y-you just say that? I'd l-love to g-g-go with you!"

Well...that was easy.

Jungkook bites back a smile at the way you shake your head and giggle at him.

"W-When is it?"

"We'd have to leave tonight...like, you should pack now."

"Oh," You look at him in surprise, "Oh, um. O-Okay...how long w-will we be gone?"

The ridiculous contrast to what was happening a few minutes ago and now is going to give you whiplash. A moment ago you were yelling at him to stop hurting you and now you're agreeing to go to Busan with him...

What kind of a day was this?

"Uh, I'm not sure, I was hoping to just spend some time there and go sightseeing, maybe?" Jungkook answers your question awkwardly.

Your warm smile makes him swallow painfully, "I w-would love that. School d-doesn't start for an-another three weeks."

"Perfect," Jungkook nods, "Then it's settled, go pack."

You shriek in excitement and hurry to the back with a little skip to your step, "V-Vacation!"

Jungkook lets out a long breath, his heart skipping a beat at the happy humming floating from your room.

Thank goodness he was successful in that.

But what makes him feel even better, is the fact that your beautiful smile is back.

__________

"Sh-Should I tell Mina?"

Jungkook's grip tenses on the wheel at your words.

He isn't sure why, but he doesn't want Mina to know where the two of you are going.

"Nah, I already told her I was going to ask you to come with me. She knows," Jungkook prays that you'll fall for it, biting his lip harshly.

"Oh," You squeak from the passenger seat.

He swallows his heart that leapt to his throat at the adorable sound.

You look out the side window, watching as the sun starts to set, your head leaning against the glass.

"How l-long will it t-t-take us to get there?" You ask quietly, your eyes still glued to the beautiful colors running across the sky.

Jungkook glances at his phone where the directions are.

"Mm, since there's hardly any traffic, hopefully four hours?"

Your eyes widen a little and you make a small sound of acknowledgment.

"Hm, ok."

Jungkook drags his eyes back to the road, telling himself that he's not allowed to look at you the whole way lest he get distracted and crash the car like a fool.

Jungkook has some soft music playing in the background, making you smile softly to yourself. You didn't think him the type of person to listen to classical instrumental music, but it's nice and relaxing, especially for how tired you are.

An hour into the drive, you feel your eyes getting extremely heavy. You keep blinking them rapidly to keep yourself awake, but every time you blink it gets harder and harder to open them again.

Jungkook, as well as he had done the first hour, fails his own rule as he glances at you.

He had noticed the way you were shifting and jerking around for the past few minutes.

"Hey, you okay?" Jungkook asks gently before returning his gaze to the road.

You nod sleepily, a tiny yawn slipping out of you.

"J-Just a little s-sleepy is all."

A soft smile appears on Jungkook's face and you feel your chest warm at the sight. You can't stop staring at his side profile, the line of his jaw, and his adorably big nose, even his lashes are long and beautiful.

"You can take a nap you know-"

"Nooo, no no," You wave a hand in the air dismissively, "I'm n-not tired at all!"

Jungkook stifles a laugh at you contradicting yourself within thirty seconds.

He nods, "Okay, then you don't have to take a nap."

You smile drowsily, appearing almost drunk in a way.

Jungkook glances at you again.

Drunk from exhaustion, you most certainly are.

What a rollercoaster of a day.

He sighs, a gentle sound as he turns back to keep his eyes forward, "You look really sleepy."

"Y-You look really p-pretty..."

Jungkook, startled at your words, looks at you with wide eyes, "Huh?"

No one has ever called him pretty before...

You have an elbow against the console, your chin in your hand as you gaze up at him dreamily.

"I'm s-s-sorry I said all th-that mean st-stuff back at my apartment," You whisper, lips turning down into a pout.

Jungkook fidgets, "It's fine, ____. I deserved to get snapped at."

You shake your head, "Noooo," You say cutely, smacking your lips, "Nooo, you d-deserve th-the whooooooole world!" You gesture out, almost smacking him in the face.

Jungkook chuckles.

You're just tired yet you act like you've been drinking nonstop.

"You, J-Jungkook, you d-deserve to a...a? A h-hug."

He feels a pinching in his chest at your words.

"Thanks, ____."

You nod, your head lolling to the side as you start to drift off to sleep again, then you jerk suddenly as you remember something.

"M-My first love!"

Jungkook looks at you, bewildered.

"He-...b-brought it to me..."

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at you, "Who brought what to you, ____?"

"An angel brought m-me food t-today!"

Jungkook nods along with your nonsensical rambling, "That's cool," He muses as he passes a car on the highway.

"Yeahh..."

After that, you fall silent.

He glances over at you after you haven't spoken for a few minutes, to see your head resting against the seat, your mouth open slightly as you sleep soundly.

He fights the smile that's creeping its way onto his face, trying as hard as he can to pay attention to the road.

Jungkook reaches up a hand and slaps it across his face, harder than he had meant to.

He winces in pain, but at least it got him to think straight.

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road (mostly) the rest of the way.

It's kind of lonely with you sleeping beside him, but he doesn't really mind.

It's around one in the morning when Jungkook gently shakes your shoulder.

You stir, your eyes opening into little slits as you look around in confusion.

"W-Where am I?" You ask, mumbling almost incoherently.

"We're here, ____. We're in Busan," Jungkook says softly, his hand still on your shoulder.

Once you're able to open your eyes all the way, you see the inside of Jungkook's car, then you turn your head to the right to see him standing outside your door, holding it open as he smiles at you.

"Oh," You say in surprise, "I f-forgot we were on v-vacation."

Jungkook chuckles at that, "Come on, ____. Let's get you to bed."

He reaches around you to unbuckle your seat belt, then you watch quietly as he grabs your purse and slings it over his shoulder.

Next, he grabs your hand and helps you out of the car.

You take in the sight of a small motel, very simple, very dark, and very very cute.

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the place you'll be staying tonight.

"It's s-so cute," You whisper sleepily.

Jungkook shrugs, "I've never considered a motel to be cute before, but it's decent."

You keep a hold of his hand as you climb out of the car, then you shyly let go and follow him to the trunk where he pulls out both of your suitcases.

"I can c-carry something," You offer as you see him start moving with both of the cases to the front of the motel.

Jungkook shakes his head, his floofy brown hair flopping about, "I'm all good."

You bite back a laugh at the sight of him wheeling two suitcases with a purse slung over his arm, then you hurry to catch up to him.

Inside, there's a very small old man at the front desk, reading a newspaper.

He looks up when you and Jungkook walk in.

A friendly smile graces his features as he sets the paper down, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

"Hi," Jungkook clears his throat, "I called about two rooms earlier today...well, I guess it was technically yesterday..."

The man nods and grabs this little notebook, "Perfect! Name?"

"Uhm...Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” He says lowly.

Ohhhh, Jeon?

Even his last name suits him.

You see him fidgeting a little as the older man flips through the notebook, "Ah yes! Right here."

Then he turns to grab a key out of a little cabinet, "Your rooms will be one twenty-three and one twenty-two-"

He pauses, his hand freezing over an empty cubby in the cabinet.

"Uhm...one moment."

He shuffles behind a little curtain leading to a different room.

Jungkook looks back at you with a puzzled expression and you shrug, you don't have any idea what's going on either.

A minute later the man comes out with a regretful look on his face.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon. It would appear as though someone accidentally gave your rooms away without looking at the reservations," The man looks terribly guilty.

Jungkook bites his lip, "Uhm, alright, well can I get two other rooms then?"

The man nods quickly and ruffles through his notebook, then he looks at Jungkook again.

"We only have one room available. I sincerely apologize, this was my mistake-"

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook gives him a tight-lipped smile, "We'll take it. Thank you."

After getting your key, you and Jungkook walk out to find your room, not speaking until you get there.

Once Jungkook unlocks the door and opens it for you, he gives you an embarrassed smile, "Sorry, ____. I would take us somewhere else but it's late and-...I'll sleep on the floor."

You turn to him, "D-Don't be silly. We'll both sl-sleep on a bed."

He looks at you, bewildered, then his gaze follows your outstretched arm as you point at the bed.

Or...

The beds.

AH! A MIRACLE!

Jungkook sighs in relief, letting the door close behind him as he sets your suitcases to the side.

"Well this isn't so bad," He says as he looks around the room, taking in the twin beds with satisfaction.

Then he looks at you to see you gazing around in wonder, gently touching the bed and making your way over to the bathroom to peek your head inside.

When you turn back to him, your eyes are lit up like stars in the night sky.

"It's b-beautiful!"

Jungkook does one more look over.

There are twin beds with white covers and pillows, a nightstand between them and TV on a desk in front along with a coffee machine and glass mugs.

Meh, it's not a crappy place, he's been in far worse, but he's also been in far better.

Then something clicks and he looks at you again, "Wait, have you never been to a hotel- or- a motel before?"

You shake your head, your innocent eyes never leaving his.

Jungkook lets out a short laugh of disbelief, "Huh."

You walk over to your suitcase and grab it, pulling it with you to the bathroom, "I'm g-going to change."

"Uh-huh," Jungkook says, still trying to process the fact that you've never stayed in a place like this before.

When he hears the bathroom door close, he walks over to his suitcase and opens it up, grabbing out a t-shirt and some pajama shorts.

He makes quick work of changing, then he settles on the left bed, a groan leaving his lips as he lays back.

A moment later, the door to the bathroom opens and Jungkook sees you walk out shyly, a simple lilac nightgown draping around your frame.

He looks away quickly, fixing his gaze on the black screen of the television positioned in front of the twin beds.

You hurry over and climb into the bed on the right, slipping underneath the covers and sighing happily.

"Th-These beds are s-so comfy!"

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes still glued to the TV even though it's off.

You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, letting out a tiny yawn.

At the sound, Jungkook's resolution crumbles and he glances over at you.

The way your eyelids flutter and your lips part slightly as you breathe makes his heart beat rapidly.

Suddenly, your eyes pop open and you're staring right back at him.

He was so startled when it happened that he didn't even look away, instead, his gaze stays locked on yours, eyes wide.

It feels like an eternity passes as the two of you just stare at each other, but it's really only a few seconds.

Long enough for Jungkook's heart to be in his throat and your tummy to start tickling.

Then you whisper, "I w-was just going to a-ask you to turn out the l-light."

A choked breath escapes Jungkook as he snaps his gaze away from yours.

"Oh, yeah sure."

Without looking at you, he reaches over to the table between your beds and flips the light off.

It's silent for a little bit, then Jungkook hears you whisper in the darkness, "I'm sorry a-about earlier."

"You already apologized, and I told you there was no need to."

You sigh and shift onto your back, "When is th-the school reunion?"

Jungkook internally groans, "It's in a few days."

"W-Why did we have t-to leave so quickly?"

Jungkook moves to his right side, so he's facing you in the darkness, but he can't make you out.

"I wanted to be sure we got a place to stay before it all filled up."

"Ah, okay."

Fuck, he hates lying to you so easily.

The fact that you have full trust in him is making him sick to his stomach.

But at least he got you here.

He's gotten you out of Seoul.

That buys him a bit more time to figure out who the hell placed the hit on you.

Then he'll take matters into his own hands.

After a few minutes, Jungkook is sure you've fallen asleep again, so it takes him by surprise when you speak up.

"What is y-your favorite flower?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure...I don't know that many flowers," Jungkook replies, his eyes still closed.

You giggle, "My f-favorite is the a-almond flower."

Jungkook nods thoughtfully, then he realizes that you can't see him so he clears his throat, "Ah, what does that one look like?"

"It's little and w-white with a h-hint of pink in the middle. V-Very cute."

Jungkook smiles, "Sounds very fitting for you."

Your cheeks heat up as you cuddle more into the covers, "Do y-you want to know th-the meaning of it?" You whisper.

He finally opens his eyes, but all he can see is darkness, "Sure."

He suddenly remembers your letter to him after you visited the field of dandelions.

What did you say the dandelion represented again? Oh yeah, hope and happiness...or something like that...

"It m-means h-hope and renewal."

Jungkook hears you shifting a little to get comfortable.

"That's nice," He says gently, "I guess the little simple ones tend to represent hope, huh?"

You positively beam, realizing that he must have remembered your letter to him about the dandelion.

"I g-guess so."

Jungkook turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Before he can back out, he asks, "What does the lotus flower represent?"

"Is th-that your f-favorite?"

Jungkook blinks a few times before answering you, "It was my mother's."

You sit up and look over at him curiously, wondering if something had happened to her with the way his voice sounded and the fact that he used past tense.

"Oh...w-well I happen t-to know that one," You lay back down, "It m-means enlightenment and r-rebirth."

Huh.

How ironic.

"Ah," Is all he says.

You lay there in silence for a little bit, then you remember something that you had wanted to tell him.

"Oh y-yeah, I had the w-weirdest dream the other day."

"Mm? What was it?"

"I w-was laying in a f-field of flowers. Purple f-flowers-"

Jungkook's brain suddenly snaps to attention at your words, "What did they look like?" He asks abruptly, interrupting you.

"Uh, they w-were some of m-my favorite flowers, they're c-called Agapanthus."

"Agapi- what?" Jungkook asks, face scrunched in confusion.

You laugh and blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand.

Jungkook looks over to see a blue light illuminating your face as you look at your phone and his breath gets caught in his throat.

Fuck.

Don't be stupid, Jungkook.

He looks away quickly.

"H-Here," You stand up and waddle over to his bed, plopping yourself down on the side of it and jostling him a bit. Jungkook swallows thickly at the close proximity all of the sudden.

You hold your phone close to his face, watching as he squints at the picture of the flower you were talking about.

"A-Agapanthus," You state again, smiling.

But Jungkook barely hears you, he's frozen, staring at the picture in your hand.

That's the flower that was in his dream the other day.

The field was full of them.

"Anyw-way, I w-was lying there. It w-was so vivid. Th-Then I realized I was h-holding someone's hand-"

Jungkook can't tear his eyes away from your phone, his heartbeat increasing the more of your story you tell.

"I c-could tell it w-was a guy's hand, b-but I couldn't turn my head to see who it was."

His eyes finally drift from your phone up to your face where you're sporting a faint pout.

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, all he registers are the shaky words suddenly coming from his mouth, "What's the meaning of this flower?"

Your gaze shifts to his and you smile softly, "L-Love."

__________________________________

a/n: jk is a damned fool, who’s with me.

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @sweetonkookieandtae @voidswan-recs @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @gaeguuliii @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk @steffiiirose @the-falling-star @telepathytae @erenkook

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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kkusuka · 3 years

Text

Unsupervised

Dabi/ Touya Todoroki x Fem reader

Genre: Smut

Synopsis: You haven’t seen Dabi in a year and he seems to miss you a whole bunch.

words: 1.9k

Cw: minor manga spoilers, slight degrading, overuse of the word doll, you get walked-in on and I'm sure there's a word for that I just can't think of, voyeurism

The threat of being arrested loomed over your boyfriend's head since becoming a villain. Apparently, the fear of never being free again was stomped out by his ambition to overthrow his father.

So when he was captured during an ambush, you felt your heartbreak for him. No matter what had happened in his childhood, life in prison was the only outcome you could think would happen.

Your heart shattered when you were proven right.

You haven't seen Dabi in a year, he was constantly being transferred into higher security prisons. Not to mention the times you tried to visit but he was placed in solitary right before, his bad habit of getting into fights finally caught up to him.

The time made you think about all the nights you spent laying under the stars talking about your future, a peaceful life, maybe a family. Or all the evenings you would dance around your living room in that shitty apartment as a soft waltz plays from the speaker. You’ll never get the chance to have a nice wedding or that baby girl, he would treat so well-

“Um, Y/n? You’ve been cleared to enter.”

Shooting your head up at the mention of your name you take notice of the guard holding the door to the visitation rooms open. You could feel his eyes on you as you placed the fashion magazine back into its place, before grabbing your small purse and walking over to the man.

He led you down a monotonous hallway bringing you to a stop before door number 12.

As he went to open the door he asked once more if you had anything in your purse that could aid in an escape of a high-class prisoner, you're sure the reminder of just who your boyfriend is was a dig at you. But you couldn't even care about that.

He warned you one last time before opening the door and stepping in, taking a second to stand there when a deep familiar voice rang out from the depth of the room,

“Dude, no offense but I was getting in the mood to see my girl, and seeing you really turned me off, where is she anyway?” you rushed to step in immediately noticing the taunting smirk on his scarred face, “ah! There she is! How are ya Doll?”

Unable to hide your overwhelming rush of emotions, you almost ran towards the man, who promptly stood, letting you wrap your arms firmly around his waist. He maneuvered his still cuffed wrists over your head, pressing you into his body.

Slightly swaying your bodies, he lifted his head towards the guard, who was stationed in the corner by the door ( observation, a skill you picked up from one of Dabi’s impromptu survival lessons) raising his hands, “Man couldn't you undo these one time? They're ruining our reunion.”

You let out a soft, wet laugh at the humor that you missed so much, letting a sniffle out as he stuffed his cheek into your hair, eyes still burning into the guard.

“You know we can’t Mr. Todoroki, it’s against policy for high-class profiles” You could tell this guy did not like you or your boyfriend and wanted to make sure you knew it.

At the excuse, Dabi let out a loud groan and spun you to sit on the couch adjacent to the chair he plopped himself onto. Settling from across from him you finally got to take a look at him, the look was reciprocated as he stared back at you.

He wasn't as skinny as you expected, that meant he was eating well, or as well as he could in this situation. His skin looked less blistered, definitely from the lack of quirk use. The staples on his hands were replaced with actual stitches and seemed to be healing.

But most notably was the white roots poking out of his dyed locks, something you would never see. He would dye his roots the second his natural color peaked through. It was almost like looking at a different person.

But his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips as he smirked back at you, and the deep chuckle when he noticed your stare. All telltale signs he was the same man you knew, and loved, for the last six years of your life.

“Whatcha lookin’ at doll?”

You couldn't help but let out a smile at the nickname, “Your hair, and your eyes, and your arms, and your, your everything. I can't believe it’s really you” Yu tried to laugh the last phrase out but your soft sobs got in the way.

He gave you a smile and held his arms out, making small ‘grabby hands’ at you, motioning you to come back into his arms.

“Well you didn't come all this way to just look at me, and, dude can’t you just take ‘em off for a minute. These things are totally ruining our moment”

Before the man could answer an intercom blared into the room a fight had broken out in the main corridor and they needed all guards in the area. Meaning he had to leave, at least for a few minutes.

He shot the both of you a look, reaching to grab his keys from his belt, opening the door, “I will be right back, I’m locking the door, the cuffs are staying on. The door will be locked until I come back, no funny business. Am I understood?”

You gave the man a curt nod as he shut the dock, as the lock clicked in place you were thrown onto the couch, your coat and purse threw to the floor. Dabi was looming over you in seconds, pulling his arms apart snapping the chain of his handcuffs.

“H-hey! What-”

“Doll, I haven't gotten off in a year and all of a sudden you show up and we were handed a golden opportunity I will not waste” he growled as he slipped your top off.

Reaching behind you he unhooked your bra, throwing it into some corner of the room, something he’ll probably manage to sneak back into his cell with. He kneeled in between your legs leaning to take a nipple into his mouth, rolling the other, maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck I missed these, my head doesn’t give you credit, mouse” you missed this, you missed his voice, you missed the way he bit your neck as a hand reached down to maneuver your shorts down your legs.

He lifted his head, admiring the marks he left on your neck, pushing you to sit against the armrest. Then pulling your thighs to his shoulders pressing his face into your dripping core. Giving it a small lick and a guttural rumble from his throat. “Oh, baby you shaved just for me? Now I've got to give you a taste. And you’re just as wet as I remember”

Attaching his lips to your clit, giving it a suck, you followed his command of playing with your hard nipples aiding in the build of your orgasm. Reaching a hand to hand onto his colored locks, pulling him closer to you while tightening your thighs around his head. His chuckle sent shivers to your core, adding to the wetness.

His tongue was shoved deeper into your cunt as you clench around him, riding through your orgasm. Letting you fall onto the couch, painting as he released his cock from his boxers

“You know what to do Doll, get in position.”

You couldn't forget how he wanted you if you tried. It's been buried, fucked really, into you. You're sure you would have pulled your knees to your chest, opening yourself completely, presenting yourself to him, as he fucked you.

He laughed at your submissiveness, “I’ve trained you that well? All this time and you're still my cockwhore! Say it, tell me I was a bitch in heat you are for me.”

Instead of letting you answer he fully sheathed himself in your heat, his hips flushing against yours.

“I’m not hearing you talk Doll! ‘Cmon you’ve said it before, tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy.” he accompanied each word with a roll of his hips, brushing into your clit. Bringing a hand up to roll your nipple.

“I-i’m a whore for you cock, I’m a-a well-trained bitch in heat”

“Hah! Yes, you are, my bitch in heat!”

He was pounding you into the couch, thrusting with his entire body weight straight into your cervix. Your mind was a mess of his soft growls and the finger rubbing circles around your throbbing clit. Only knowing the feeling of his cock re-carving his way into your cunt.

Mid-thrust the door swung open and you could make out the face of the shocked guard frozen in the doorway. Dabi shot a glare over his shoulder at the intruder before letting out a mocking laugh as he slowed his hip, eliciting a whine from you.

In a second, Dabi fell back, dropping you onto his cock, facing the shocked guard, who was opening his mouth attempting to speak.

“Dude, don't just stand there,” Dabi mocked snapping the guard out of whatever trance he was in, he opted to step in and shut the door going back into his former stance, “ha! Give him a show doll!”

He helped you start off by picking up your hips and dropping you back onto his cock, settling you into a steady rhythm. When you try to hang your head and look into Dabi’s burning eyes, he seems to have other ideas.

He placed his hand under your chin and pushed your face to meet the eyes of your observer, “Not at me baby, give ‘em a show, it's what he stayed for afterall” keeping with your rhythm his other hand flew down to your clit, fondling with it, laughing when you let out a gasp of his name.

You felt eyes fall onto your bouncing breasts, taking Dabi’s words too great you reached a hand to play with your pebbles nipples, letting out a pornstar worth moan, and Dabi let out a fake moan to pair with yours.

As you felt the coil in your core begin to grow, you lost your pace opting to let Dabi bounce you on his cock until he took mercy and flipped you over, throwing a leg over his shoulder.

Sensing you were close Dabi aimed for the spot in your depths, “Please, gonna cum, Please, please!” the coil was getting tighter and your cunt was squeezing him.

“Go, whore” and with that you fell apart around his cock, milking his orgasm from him as he shoved his cum, farther into your cavern.

A minute of breathing passed before he peeled himself off you and glanced towards the guard who choked out a command to clean yourselves up and that you only had five minutes left. Scouring the room for your clothes, Dabi surprised you when he handed your bra back until you noticed him pocketing your panties.

After staying in his arms for whatever remaining time you had left, the same guard came back and yanked the man off you and replaced the broken handcuff, locking them on his wrists.

As he was escorted out he glanced back, winked, announcing, “Bye-bye Doll, wait for next time, I’ll stuff your throat full, ok? Just wait.”

Two weeks and he’ll have to make do on that promise.

#mha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #this is self indulgent #mha #mha smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #dabi is sexy #my hero x reader #my hero academia #dabi x female reader

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

Note

Hello, I have been looking at your content and I must say that I really like the way you write and I hope you are doing well.I don't know if your applications are open now but I want to give you an idea, how would the yanders react if their beloved has depressive periods and low self-esteem?It may be a bit of an anguish at first but I would like how they would react, use it on purpose or go soft on their beloved.

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: depression, self-harm, abuse, manipulation, abuse, profanity, amnesia, anxiety, panic-attacks, arson, bipolar disorder, blood, death threats, eating disorder, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, mental illness, mind control, paranoia, noncon, dubcon, starvation, suicidal ideation, trauma

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

MELANCHOLIA –

She’s always biting her tongue, the inside of her cheek, her lip. So much so, he doesn’t even know what her lip normally looks like without it being bloated and swollen and red from having her teeth sink into to it. He’s okay with her chosen silence as long as she answers when she’s spoken to, which she does, lacking the will to refuse, knowing it will only cost her valuable energy, energy she needs in case Bakugo decides he wants to rip the breath from her lungs while he hunches over her, his hips snapping into her again and again, ramming at a pace so rough she both dreads it and welcomes it, for on the one hand it’s exhausting and she always wakes up with aches in the morning, yet on the other hand he makes her appreciate breathing which is always a nice reminder when she often times wonders what tranquility would be found in not breathing whatsoever.

He doesn’t want to confront her about it, sensing how she might not enjoy confrontation all that much, and not really wanting the whole ordeal to result in making her cry at the mere sound of his voice. He won’t alter the volume or the roughness of his tone, no matter how many times she cringes at how loud he’s being, but he does try being gentle, at least with his criticism. He showers her in compliments, which is a huge contrast to how he would usually handle fixing things. But, he finds using softer methods benefit him as well, loving the blush that adorns her face each time he does so, his own confidence probably boosting more so than hers.

He does nice things, not really knowing what or which way to help. He doesn’t make her do any chores, ignoring the nagging feeling that keeping her busy would probably help more so than having her sit and look cute all day, but… he’s afraid of admitting it, but… he quite likes taking care of her. He quite likes hugging her throughout the night, feeling her small tremoring sobs against him while stroking her back. He likes comforting her on those same nights where she wakes abruptly from some nightmare, stroking glossy diamond tears away from her cheeks, loving her bloated lips and that cute red wet irritation flushed on her nose and cheeks.

The only times he gets upset with her is when she refuses to eat. He tries so hard to make things she might like, but it’s scarce he sees her taking more than a few bites, if she makes a move to eat at all. He doesn’t want to make her cry, despite it being a constant hobby of hers, he doesn’t want to be the reason to her crying, but… he can’t have her starving. He finds the fear-tactic surprisingly effective on someone who spends most their time fantasizing about death. A few sparks in his palms has her all but quaking, scared half-way into catatonia or even comatose, so much so he has to pull her into his lap and spoon-feed her. Not that he minds that either, he comes to enjoy it quite a lot actually. How her small frame melts so perfectly against his chest, legs swung over his lap, head on his shoulder, remnants of her fear-stricken cries still evident as small spontaneous jolts run through her, being slowly comforted away with the same hand that caused the trouble in the first place.

DABI - TODORKI TOUYA

ANXIETY –

He couldn’t be happier with his little ball of blue wrapped up in soft-tinted crushed dreams with a heart made of honeycombs and dandelion-fluff. Whereas his misfortunate lack of happiness stems from a place of violence, where violence breeds violence, she’s nothing but a tender trauma. Such a soft despair, such a sweet despair, such perfection found in something so devastating. It’s artwork really. How she can cry herself to sleep, trapped in his arms, feeling as though she’s dying, yet wake up the next morning all velvety and soft in his arms, her heart finding comfort in what her mind rejects, what her mind fears.

He tries being a source of comfort for the most part, but teasing and haunting and poking fun at her is such a delicious past-time he cannot simply just refrain from. He’ll be a real villain about it at times. Having her as a complete blubbering pathetic hiccupping mess, poking fun at her crybaby-face as he licks the tears from her cheeks and gorges himself in her panic, his fingers dancing small patterns on her stomach as she wiggles beneath him.

She used to be so scared of him. So skittish and paralyzed, cold-sweating and eyes constantly leaking he had to imagine what her eyes would look like without being rimmed with red. She used to shiver and shake and quake and reel in on herself, curl up until her limbs ached from how small she was trying to make herself become, backed up into the corner beneath his shadow, his leather-boots looking like the onset of everything horrific as she coward in front of them. But wild untrusting childlike beings such as her is quick in nature to tether themselves to the first or only source of light. And though the transition was slow, her anxiety soon shifted from being directed at him and soon for him instead.

It was too easy, and it benefitted him so undeservingly as well it was cruel. How he simply took all those fears of hers, all those fears for everything residing in the new foreign room she’d been taken captive in, manipulating them into becoming paranoia for everything found outside the bedroom door instead. He went from being the source of her dread, of her panic, of her misery, of her pitter-patter heart and shattering teeth to her savior. Soothing her in her frenzied quakes as she spluttered on sobs containing what hellish monsters and dangers found outside, begging him to be careful, to come back to her, to stay.

She will hug him close throughout the night, hanging almost like a noose around his neck when he needs to leave in the mornings, tracing his scars with a stream of endless worried thoughts blubbering in her groggy voice. And he’ll humor her worry and tame the oncoming panic-attacks by giving her a little light-show of blue flames in his palm, words of his own coming to assure her how nothing will ever happen to him and how he will never let anything ever happen to her, assuring however many times he has the time for.

She’s too cute it’s unfair. Unfair that small creatures like her exist without anything to protect them from hungry wolves like him. And though he was never the type to fantasize about clingy things, he has to admit… coming home to someone who lunches at him in the most secure yet clumsy and desperate embrace, he feels as though that feeling of coming home is all he’ll ever need in the world, that she’s all he’ll ever need.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

INSOMNIA –

It’s nice. He knows it shouldn’t be the word he describes it with, but… that’s what it is. It’s nice. It’s nice to stay up with someone who expels the same type of energy as him, and not to mention the same amount of energy as him, or… lack of thereof. It’s nice living off of fumes together. It’s nice slipping to and from consciousness and how it almost turns into a game of who can survive the longest before collapsing, with the other shortly following, too tired to even bask in their victory.

It’s nice irritating over the same sharp sounds that attack their sensitive ears, not at all like the familiar sound of soft clicks of the controller in their hands. It’s nice communicating almost purely through mellow moans and groans and croaks, always understanding what the other is emitting despite it being but shapeless sounds.

It’s nice finding agreement in how the lights should always stay off, how it’s turned into some religious rule never meant to be crossed. It’s nice annoying over the same crisp bright light of the sun that violate their eyes those times they forget to shut the blinds before passing out after having counted stars and eating in the dead silence of night like nocturnal beings ignoring the light of day as though it were the plague. It’s nice how they can both find comfort in the glow of the moonlight or computer screen, leaching off of the energy like flies.

He’s found kinship in her presence, and despite it merely being himself and her in the darkness of his room, with flying specs of dust decorating the air and their computers the only windows to the world beyond their four walls, he feels as though the whole universe is looking at him when the softness of her glinting, beaming, sparkling eyes set their gaze and lock with his. It’s strange, but he always found angel-bright smiles and supersonic eyes to be too intrusive and annoying and scary to stand before, whereas her sunken dark eyes, ringed with shades of lilac contrasting her otherwise pale porcelain skin, kept almost albino in the darkness of his room… she couldn’t be more perfect.

Come to think of it, it’s perfection. Her in all her sleep-deprived glory, all her drowsy silliness, her sloppy harsh movements, tripping and stumbling with her droopy-eyes, in her soft giggling fits, where she’ll catch her stupidity just a moment too late and roll around on the bed, trying to shrug off Tomura’s teasing judgement as he pokes fun at her idiocy. Giving up on forming complete sentences as she almost always ends up toppling over her own words, settling for whining or sighing as she turns her head to bury it in his chest.

Utter perfection. Never bothering to get dressed, walking about like a little tease in only underwear and Tomura’s ill-fitted hoodie, hair pulled up into a messy-bun too messy, always defeating the purpose of keeping her hair from out of her face. Her unstable movements, disconnected to the ground as though she’s floating. Too grabbable and easily defeated in her weariness when being pulled into his lap, simply humming and moaning in response as he plants soft kisses down her neck, his fingers coming to destroy whatever’s in the way of him and her body.

HITOSHI SHINSO

HYPERSOMNIA –

She sleeps so soundly, like a little couch-kitten. All soft and cute, playing in her dreams. She’ll sleep whole entire days, only opening her eyes in small flutters every now and again and moaning ever so softly once he wakes her, though quickly scrunching her nose and twisting to fall asleep again. Her drowsiness rendering her pride invalid, causing her to pull at him to better comfort herself against his body, whining when he shifts, his warm presence leaving the bed when he needs to go to work. Her little unconscious protest making his heart twist in his chest, tempted to stay in bed with her all day long, yet comforting himself with the fact that he’ll probably come home to find her in the exact same position.

She’s so cute. She’ll curl and stretch, resting anywhere she finds comfortable: in bed, in the sofa, in the armchair, on his chest, his shoulder, his lap. Adorable with her little snores, all knotted up, remnants of her dreams spilling out from her sleep and coming to life in her limbs as she kicks and shakes her head, delving further into the pillow and twisting intricately in about the blanket. Eyelashes fluttering, eyes skittering beneath her puffy eyelids, caught up in whatever hurricane her mind has conjured up.

She seemed unfazed once she woke up in his room for the first time, and even then, she only gave him enough time to explain himself before nodding with heavy eyelids, laying her drowsy head back on the pillow. The situation dawning on her gradually over the first month, and if whether she was startled or angry, he couldn’t tell. If anything, sept for sleepy, he’d say she seemed confused, but alongside the confusion was the look that told him she couldn’t find the energy in herself to think too much about it without her fuzzy head hurting. Settling for eating breakfast with him in the mornings, and even thanking him on those occasion where she would forget the circumstances that led her to live there.

She doesn’t struggle when he pulls her limp body close to his own in the dead of night after he’s done for the day. He’s only mildly concerned, but it’s not his affection that shakes her from her sleep. He’s a selfish person, and he’s not one to hide those ugly aspects of himself. He’s selfish, greedy, controlling. He has to use his quirk on her sometimes… often times. Though she’s cute when she’s sleeping, he wants to do more than just watch her. He wants words, conversation, he wants to know what’s going on in that dark dreary head of hers, he wants to know what eerie things she’s been dreaming about, where she escapes to when her eyes slide close.

What more: he wants those eyes on him, those puffy, sleepy beautiful doe-eyes. He wants her to pay attention as he touches her skin and not simply to moan in response to it, he wants her to hang onto every single moment his skin touches hers. Telling her to focus reaches a long way. Those otherwise sleepy doe-eyes widening in such moon-bright curiosity, slaving at the hands of his quirk. Her otherwise limp and soft body shaking under his overwhelming touch, goosebumps springing to the surface under his tongue, a wicked glint evident in his lilac eyes.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

BIPOLAR –

She’s fragile on most days. Whether that fragility is in the shape of a daisy or a bomb is impossible to say until she either falls apart or blows up. It’s all rather uncertain, sporadic, spontaneous, where he’s given only a few signs where which he can predict what state of mind she’s in and how stable that structure is.

Most things depend on sleep, and upholding a balanced sleep-pattern has become one of the most important things in Keigo’s life after having taken his little darling. But, she manages to slip past his schedules more times than he would like to admit. When she refuses to go to sleep, his mind drifts to all the fun things they can do if they weren’t sleeping, and when she’s sound asleep and drowsing far beyond what time she should have woken up, he can’t find it in himself to wake her, not when he is the reason as to why she was so spent and sore and exhausted from the events and methods he used to make her fall asleep in the first place.

On little sleep one of two things can happen. She can either have the energy of a hummingbird or be tired to the point she almost looks sickly. On her lack-of-sleep-high she’s confident, cocky more so than Keigo, where she’ll test her luck on how far Keigo’s willing to bend his rules when she misbehaves, calling him all types of names, laughing in his face when he snaps and cackling even harder even madder when he decides to punish her, as though it’s all a game to quench her boredom.

With the absence of sleep causing her exhaustion she becomes irritated, seething with boiling rage, red in annoyance, whatever energy she has left focused on making her discomfort known as she scowls at him each time he smiles too loudly, but being too drained to physically act on her frustration or to even make up a snide comment without evoking a headache, left to simply snarl. He thinks it’s cute, where he knows well enough that if he pushes her limits too far she might just break. Break, and therefore let him gather her up into his arms and hush and tut at her to stop crying while he strokes her back, feeling her tremble with unparalleled frustration weighing down on her shoulders.

Then there are the days she sleeps too much. The same options are present here too. She’s either too energetic or too well rested. Either black or white. No grey. But with too much sleep she isn’t ever hostile, but still wild. Wild and enthusiastic and self-destructive and prop-full of ideas and insane in her passion. She’ll be unable to focus on anything, she’ll forget things seconds after they’ve been said or done, but… she’ll laugh and she’ll smile, and it won’t be one of those haughty nasty smiles she gives him when she’s feeling spiteful, but genuine in its playfulness or even bliss.

Then on other days sleeping half the day only results in her being even more drowsed out, yet accompanying her exhaustion isn’t irritation, but soft-tinted melancholia, where all she does is stay wrapped up in her blanket, quiet and still, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as she focusses on how hollow her chest is, as though caving in on itself, where she’ll fall all limp and snuggly in Keigo’s embrace, humming appreciatively as he wraps her up in his wings. All the while a treacherous smile of satisfaction on his face.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

DESPOND –

When Izuku chose his darling it was done without compromise, without fault, it was done with perfection. Meaning, he fell for all of her, invested in all of her, determined to preserve all of her. Even her inexplainable unfounded absurd plethora of self-doubt that make her delirious and hopeless with anxiety and guilt. He let himself fall hungrily in love with her little terror-wide heart. He fell viciously in love with how desperate in need of him to come help ground her she was.

It was as though she’s made for him, he would argue. It was as though he’s made for her. Some breeds of people are just too vulnerable to take proper care of themselves. Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves. Whereas others are made to help, other people need to help.

Emotions are abstract fundamental tools meant to be used. Lesser minds might look down on his methods, yet Izuku came to understand quite early in life that things such as morals are chains meant to keep you from achieving your goal. He has no quarrels with using and abusing those tools presented to him, where her irrational feelings of doubt, hopelessness and worthlessness are a delicious opportunity to achieve his goal. Besides, her emotions are too easily abused and give such great unshakable responses, and even though he doesn’t want to tamper too much with her instability… they’re just too in-reach for him to ignore, too tempting for him to stay away.

The feeling of responsibility sits like an extra organ inside him, where his toes curl each time he sees her large doe-eyes look at him as though he were the sun, as though her whole life revolves around him. She’s just so dependent on him, so in need of his guidance and advise and praise, where he’s afraid she might just drown in her own guilt if she senses she’s displeased him. She makes sure she wears what he likes, has her hair the way he likes, letting him play with her like putty in his hands if he asks it of her. How can he be expected to not exploit what is so clearly offered?

Besides, he spoils her as well. He returns the favor so to speak, even though he knows she has given herself no choice but to worship him in her mindset of inadequacy. She’s so sweet he nearly feels undeserving, because she’ll blush so preciously when he compliments her, bashful and adorable and too good to be true, he wonders how such a creature can ever feel like less. He adores her, yet that doesn’t stop him from finding such satisfying bliss in the fact that he’s infinitely stronger and faster and not to mention smarter. Whereas she’s gullible and too eager to please, another attributing factor as to why he loves her, despite it is also being the cause of her demise, or maybe even because of it

The truth is she’s lucky that she belongs to him. Lucky that he won’t ever let anything happen to her, no matter if she’s the source of her own harm. She’s lucky to have him to anchor herself to as so to avoid floating away in her hopelessness. This is safer for her. Despite him sticking his bloodstained inky fingers and twisting her heart in his deadlock of a fist, she’s safe, safer than she could or would ever be on her own.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

AMNESIA –

It’s cute. He won’t deny that it’s cute, because it is. It’s adorable and unbelievable and annoying all the same. She’ll forget the rules, she’ll wander too far from her confines, not greeting him at the door, not kissing him on que, leave questions unanswered despite him having told her to always answer him when she’s spoken to, all things he feels he’s made blatantly clear through threats and countless reminders. But, not only will she forget his rules, but basic living necessities, she’ll forget to eat and drink, forget to get dressed, forget where she is.

She’ll say the strangest things sometimes. Mild and mellow passionate thoughts regarding the clouds and stars and moon and gods and how pretty his snake-eyes are, like great big lakes of molten gold. It’s strange but he finds such great comfort in her little philosophical blubbering, her soft voice kissing his ears like gospel. It’s a tender type of relief or resolution found in listening to nonsense as opposed to the serious matters he has to deal with in his position in the underworld, her view of the world somehow painting everything, even the ugly and the dangerous, in beauty.

Sometimes she’ll drift a bit too far away though. She’ll daydream more than sleep, absentminded when he’s speaking to her, unable to focus on him or anything for more than a few minutes at best. All dizzy and fuzzy, as though she’s just woken from some dream or as if she’s always dreaming. Irritation festers in his chest when she doesn’t answer, but as she turns her head, expression all soft and oblivious, his chest caving in at the sight of those doe-eyes, all anger simmering into nothing, rendering his annoyance nonexistent, replaced by a sense of hopeless forgiveness and somehow appreciation.

When it comes to her for once actually remembering what she’s supposed to do she’ll weigh each task as though one wrong decision would cost her life. Greeting him at the door in nothing but underwear, already having failed at picking out an outfit and resorting to wearing the lingerie Kai picked and laid out for her on the bed in the morning. The simple task suddenly becoming a battle where she’ll spend much too much time deciding whether to take his jacket first or give him a kiss or welcome him home. Too many decisions with too faulty statistics and unsure outcomes she ends up merely standing there doing nothing but hold her head in her hands and whimper slightly at all the noise that suddenly crowded her head, tears already threatening to fall as she stands before him, all guilt-ridden and trembling.

He can be patient as long as he knows she isn’t disobeying him on purpose, especially when he sees how guilty and how terribly sorry she is each time she fails on acting out simple tasks such as those he gives her. She’ll cry and apologize for the mere act of breathing on some days where she’s extra fragile, where she seeks nothing but his praise, his comfort, his hand stroking through her hair as she sleeps restlessly in her sobs on his chest, unaware of the mild smile of satisfaction and endearment displayed on his face.

TODOROKI SHOTO

SELF-CONSCIOUS -

She’s always hiding. Like a little mouse, she’s always squeaking and squealing and hiding. Hiding her face, burying it in the pillow when he compliments her gorgeous eyes, begging him to stop, small timid hands pushing ever so slightly at him. Hiding her chest, her nipples, when he admires them, his hands playing with the soft and supple flesh, whimpering as she tries to twist away. Her knees trying their best to wrench shut, to hide and protect what sensitivity find between them from Shoto’s hungry fingers and tongue.

She’s always hiding… but he likes to hunt anyway. If she drapes herself in pitch-black hoodies he’ll gladly rip them off, or scorch them off and expose her delicious artful body. If she refuses to leave the bed he’ll gladly attack her where she’s sleeping. She’s always hiding, but she quickly comes to understand that there will be no hiding from him.

He doesn’t understand why she would ever want to hide divinity, and therefor doesn’t respect the wish. Having made it his mission to expose every little piece of her, licking up long lines of bumpy purple and white scars, sucking and biting at those pointy cherry nipples strutting at the coolness of his breath, kissing those plump lips of hers despite her cringing to cover herself up in thousand layers of clothes, dark clothes, where only the very least of her skin is remaining on display. He won’t have it.

He has to tie her up on most occasions where she’s too difficult and shy to listen and let him play with her beauty. He’ll have to tie her up like a starfish on the bed, limbs spread in each direction, scars running along them, quite like the ones he receives in battle, only precise and matching and purposeful, his hands coming to touch them in reverence, worshipping every little altercation she’s added to her skin, further pushing its ever-changing perfection, watching as she hopelessly struggles to hide herself, yet the both of them knowing how she’s fully his.

He can’t allow her hurting herself anymore though, not with the fear that she one day might slip up and kill herself just a little bit too much, but he’s happy to help her through the tools of fire and ice. Frostbite flowers look even more as though they belong on her body, as well as blotches of burns, his markings, his teeth. He’ll never forget the moan he received on his first indulgence branding her body with his elements, how she purred in gratitude, small blissful squeals and mewls following, further egging him on.

Once she grew more comfortable with his hands and his stare… or rather… once the need for his hands outgrew her discomfort, she became somewhat addicted. And now, she can be wild in her cravings on some days, demanding it of him, threatening him, fighting him. She’ll bite and claw, begging for him to retaliate, longing for him to push her into the bedsheets and teach her what it’s like to feel alive by teasing her with the promise of death.

Without him she’s left to pick at scabs, counting the seconds until his return. She’ll pull at her hair until her scalp is screaming. She’ll ball her fists, creating those blood-red crescent moons in her palms, biting her nails until they bleed and then some. Then bask in relief upon his return.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

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ijustwant2write · 3 years

Text

The Last Five Years-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @hp-wizardingtrash-1)

(I combined two requests which were very similar)

Both Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey! Can you do a Fred Weasley imagine where him and the reader dated in their last year but Fred broke up with her cause he was leaving and he didn’t want to hurt her. But the reader was pregnant so she leaves right after. So no one knows what happened to her. After the war maybe like 5 years later (Fred lives), something happens maybe the kid needs blood from both parents because he’s sick and they need that for surgery, so the reader goes to Fred begging for blood and Fred learns the truth.’

‘Hey! Can I request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader was pregnant (back when they in school) but Fred dumps her when he’s leaving to start the shop. (But he still loves her) and the reader has twins, a boy and a girl, who are just like him and George. After the war (Fred lives) something happens where he finds out, (up to you). And both Fred and the reader still love each other. Happy cute family ending.‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, Molly Weasley x Reader (platonic), Arthur Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/S/N)=Your son’s name

(Y/D/N)=Your daughter’s name

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, talk about abortions, abandonment, single parenting, separated families, mention of blood, sickness, child sickness, mention of hospitals/blood, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leaning against a stone pillar, I looked out at the view of the lake and the grounds, crossing my arms across my chest to make myself feel warmer. I resisted touching my stomach, still terrified at the thought of life growing in there. I was only seventeen, I hadn't even finished my studying at Hogwarts and this was happening. This wasn't something Fred and I could joke about, or laugh at to make the situation a little better, this was serious, and I couldn't tell how my boyfriend would react.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head whipped round to look, but no one was there. As my head turned to the other side, Fred towered over me, chuckling to himself. But I couldn't bring myself to even smile, instead rolling my eyes at him.

"Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry I'm late, George and I were speaking, I've got so much to tell you!" he rambled, not taking offence to my action.

"Something...Fred, I...I don't know what to do!" I suddenly started sobbing, which panicked my boyfriend.

He instantly put his arms around me, holding me tight into his chest. At first he let me cry, probably thinking I was stressed about exams (I definitely was on top of everything) before pushing me away and bending down to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, let's sit down yeah?" he guided me to a bench close by, keeping his arms around me as we took a seat.

I couldn't stop my tears, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard, or before any professors could intervene.

"Here, let me tell you what George and I have been discussing. It'll take your mind off this for a bit, yeah? OK, so, you know how George and I have always said about owning a joke shop, well, something has come through. And after all this stuff going on with Umbridge, we've decided to leave-"

"I'm pregnant." I blurted out.

Unsurprisingly, his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, I could feel his body tense up. Staring up at him, I silently pleaded for him to say something.

"Fred?" I mumbled.

"(Y/N), please say you're joking."

"This isn't a fucking prank Fred!" I exclaimed, shoving him away from me."I’m serious!"

"W-what...I don't know what to say."

I stood up, not able to sit still."Fred, we're having a baby. What are we going to do? We've still got exams, and then graduation, not to mention having to tell our parents and-"

"(Y/N), I'm not doing my exams."

"What do you mean you're not doing your exams? Fred, it's literally coming to the end of our studies, why would you throw that away?"

"Because I have a plan, I was just about to tell you! George and I are leaving early and we're getting a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Are you crazy?! Fred, what if it doesn't work? You won't have any exam results, you won't be able to apply for jobs-"

"Well thanks for believing in me, that's great to hear from your girlfriend!" he leapt up from the bench.

"You know I support you through everything, but I'm thinking about our futures! If we have a baby on the way, we need to be able to support it."

"We haven't planned for this! This...this wasn't what I envisioned for us, not now!"

"Oh, and you think I did?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"What am I going to do? No, it should be what are we going to do? How dare you?! What, are you just going to leave me as well as Hogwarts?"

When he didn't reply, I scoffed, but it wasn't in an angry way, it was more upsetting than that. My mind went into overdrive, not recognising the man in front of me. I had expected shock, of course I had, but what I wasn't expecting was this rudeness, the bluntness coming from him.

"Fred," I was quieter now,"what are you saying right now?"

"You want to keep it?"

"I...I don't really know yet."

"So we're arguing about something that might not even effect us!"

"Even if we got rid of it, it wouldn't be a matter of 'let's just forget about it'. Do you know how hard that is for a woman? And the father?"

He hastily grabbed my hands."Then leave with me! We've always talked about living together after we finish school. What difference does this make?"

"I want to do my exams Fred! Even if I didn't, my parents wouldn't allow it. And that was easier to plan for back then. It would just be us. We could have a small space anywhere. But with a baby? We need somewhere safe, somewhere that is a good place to raise them, and we also need to feed three people, buy nappies, clothes constantly because babies grow a lot-"

"I can't do it." he interrupted.

"Fred, please, I love you. I know we can figure something out-"

"No, I...we're too young, this isn't fair." his eyes were distant, as if he was staring straight through me.

"What you're saying isn't fair! I couldn't have done this by myself."

"I just...I don't know what else to say I..."

He said no more as he rushed away from me, and I was too stunned to go after him. As he picked up the pace, he passed Mcgonagall, who glanced between us before she approached me. "I think we should have a word Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we Miss (Y/L/N)?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mummy!" (Y/S/N) yelled out, just like he did every day.

I sighed as I brought out the kids breakfast, setting it in front of them."Don't worry, you're not going to starve. Here you go darling."

"Thanks." he mumbled, picking up his spoon and eating. He was always more awake in the morning compared to his sister.

"Thank you mummy." (Y/D/N) quietly said, also digging into her food.

I smiled at them both, quietly laughing at their wild hair from their sleep, before grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. Quickly returning, I sat down with them, my smile faltering as I looked at (Y/D/N) pale face.

"Do we have to go hospital today?" she asked. She hated how many times we had to go, the appointments were becoming more and more regular.

I nodded."Yes darling. But (Y/S/N) is coming today, because he's not at school for a while! You can play together whilst we wait for the doctor."

"I'll play with you (Y/D/N)." her brother kindly said.

"I don't want to go." (Y/D/N) frowned.

"We have to. Remember, they're helping you get better."

"I want to play at home."

"I promise it won't be very long. We've got our trip soon, haven't we?"

"How many more days mummy?" (Y/S/N) excitedly asked.

"Only two! We need to start packing your bags."

(Y/S/N) started to chat away about this trip he knew nothing about, listing every single item he was bringing, whereas his sister was silent as she finished her breakfast. She had been a sickly child compared to her healthy twin brother. The hospital had diagnosed her, and explained that I needed to ask family members to have blood tests, to see if they matched with her and could help in any way. My side of the family had no luck, and after much deliberation with myself (and my parents), I knew I had to see Fred again, I had to face him. But with my little girl so ill, so weak, I would face down Voldemort himself to make her well again. Though I had a feeling seeing 'He who shall not be named' would be a lot easier than seeing the father of my children.

The day of the trip came, and the kids were excited. We had packed their tiny suitcases, and I an overnight bag, before setting off. All day I had kept a smile on my face, not wanting to worry them. They thought it was a mini holiday, something we had never been on due to money. For five years it had been the three of us, with me at work, then at school and their grandparents when I had a late shift before cuddling up in bed with a good story together. It was a simple life, but they brought me so much joy, I couldn't express how happy they made me if I tried, it was infinite. And now I was taking them to meet their father I had avoided talking about, I was worried what it would do to our bond.

"That's a strange house mummy." (Y/D/N) said as we approached the Burrow, a place I had spent much time in.

"This is where your other grandparents live. It's very nice here. And they are very nice people." I said as we continued walking.

"We say, we say please and thank you, don't we mummy?" (Y/S/N) added.

I giggled."Yes, we do."

We were now stood outside of the house, right in front of the door, but I still clutched onto my children's hands. They were confused as to why I wasn't knocking, why I was standing still. It was as if I was frozen. So when (Y/S/N) boldly stepped forward and knocked, I was pulled out of my trance. Before I could say anything to him, I heard movement coming from the other side of the door, and pulled him back towards me. There was no turning back now. Molly opened the door, her jaw almost hitting the floor as she set her eyes on me, then the kids, which is when she gasped. I bravely smiled, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.

"H-Hi Molly. I'm...I'm really S-sorry just showing up out of the b-blue-" I couldn't stop stuttering over my words,"but...but I thought it was time you met your grandchildren."

Molly had immediately ushered me inside, throwing her arms around me as soon as the door closed. Holding my face in her hands, she studied my face, seeing how much I had changed over the years.

"I can't believe you're here!" she quietly exclaimed."It's been so many years."

"I'm sorry Molly. I didn't mean to disappear." I began welling up, trying to hold it back in front of the kids.

"Dear, don't apologise for a thing. We can talk about this later." she comforted me, stepping back to look at her grandchildren."So, these are your children?"

"My twins, ironically. (Y/D/N), (Y/S/N), this is your nan, Molly."

They stayed close to me, only (Y/S/N) letting go of my hand. I gently encouraged them forwards, pushing them towards Molly. She used the table beside her to help her kneel down, slowly extending her arms out to them. I felt overwhelmed as (Y/S/N) cautiously stepped towards her, hugging Molly before leaving her embrace again. It was one of those shy hugs kids gave, when they knew it was the right/polite thing to do but weren't sure of it themselves.

Molly was the only one in the house, and we let the kids play as we sat and caught up on what happened in the last five years. For me, there was a slight awkward tension in the air, but Molly's warm smile made me forget about that. I'm sure she had tons of questions as to why I never brought the twins round, and why I only showed up when I wanted something.

"Why don't you stay the night? I can hardly get Fred to stop by now. But there's plenty of room." Molly offered.

"Oh, only if that's alright with you! That would be very helpful. Um, do you think he’ll even want to see me?”

She kindly smiled as she slowly nodded.“My son is still just as infatuated with you as he was all those years ago.”

I refrained from snapping about how he never sent a letter, checked to even see if I was alright, if I had kept the pregnancy going. But then again, I had also cut off any contact with him, so it wasn’t entirely fair for me to say that. However, I was the one carrying twins by herself, raising them as a single mother (my family helped as much as they could, though no one could replace a father figure). And although the catch up with Molly had been good, it had lifted this tension from my body, I hated how my stomach twisted at the thought of Fred showing up here. Hi reaction was completely unknown. He could have moved on, maybe Molly was just wanting us together again; what if he was seeing someone, someone without children, someone who was free to do what they wanted and more fun than I was? He could easily turn a blind eye to it all. Or perhaps he would want to be a part of the family now. But why should I let him in after all these years? He missed five years of their life, and I understood that he would have no clue where we were, though there were ways of tracking us down. My mind was conflicted, I was here to make (Y/D/N) better, that was the top priority.

When Arthur returned that evening, he wore the same expression Molly had had when I first arrived. Although he was happy to see me, he wasn’t shouting or bouncing off the walls, he was more concerned; asking me all these questions, wanting me to go in depth about (Y/D/N)’s illness and how they could help. Both of them agreed they would help, and that once I spoke with Fred, they would ask the rest of the family also.

Molly had laid out a full breakfast the next morning, though I really didn’t feel like eating. The kids got stuck right in, eating more food than I think I’ve ever seen them eat. They weren’t used to treats like this, we weren’t extremely poor, but even a fancy cereal was out of the question for us. I shared a smile with Molly and Arthur, thanking them for their hospitality. (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N) were more comfortable with them, sometimes talking to them, or showing their toys. As we sat at the table, our plate and bowls now empty, Arthur gestured for me to follow him to the other room.

“(Y/N), I just wanted to make sure you were ready for today. I’ve had this same talk with Fred.” he quietly said.

I looked down at my feet, my arms crossing over my chest.“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready to see him again.”

“You have been very brave coming here. I can see how difficult this is for you. But I understand wanting to look after your children, it’s a feeling you only ever experience once you have them. Molly and I spoke last night. Even if, for some bizarre reason, Fred doesn’t...he doesn’t....”

“He doesn’t want to be around us.”

Arthur sighed sadly.“We will still help you. And you always have a place here, you always have family here.”

I hugged him, feeling like a child again in his arms. I felt protected, like nothing could hurt me whilst I was here. When we returned to the others, Molly was already clearing everything away, (Y/D/N) and (Y/S/N) talking each others ears off. Molly denied my help as I offered, knowing that I was very nervous and wanted the kids ready, as well as myself before their father arrived. I was happy that they were in a good mood, talking amongst themselves rather than asking lots of questions. But I still needed to sit them down, tell them who they were meeting today.

“You two look amazing!” I beamed, sitting them down on the edge of the bed, me kneeling in front of them.

“Mummy looks...mummy looks like a princess.” (Y/D/N) giggled as she clutched onto her own princess doll.

“Thank you. Do you guys remember why I said we were coming here?”

“To meet daddy.”

“Yeah.” my voice turned shaky.“So, we need to be really good today OK? You guys were so good yesterday, and I need you to be like that again please. Me and daddy might need to talk for a while, so you two can play together, or with granddad Arthur and grandmother Molly.”

“Where is daddy?” (Y/S/N) asked.

“He’s on his way.”

“No, not, not now. Where has he been? Because all my friends have daddies, they have mummies and daddies, but I don’t.”

“He’s...he’s been....”

How was I supposed to explain this to a five year old?

“It’s a bit confusing darling. But that doesn’t matter because he’s here now.”

(Y/D/N) looked away from her doll.“Will he come home with us?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t. We’ve been fine, just the three of us, haven’t we?”

They nodded, and I pulled them in to hug me. Their little arms wound around me where they could, and I could feel their tiny hands grasping at me. Squeezing them tighter, I laughed when they did, exclaiming they I was holding them too hard. Pulling away, I kissed them both on the cheeks, holding their hands to take them downstairs. However, my grin fell as I heard the door open, Fred’s voice ringing out. My body stiffened, heart starting to race quickly. Instinctively, I pulled the twins closer to me, not sure if I should go to Fred or wait here.

“It’s alright dear, I’m here.” Molly calmly said beside me.

All I could do was smile. My throat turned dry, breathing shaky and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I heard Arthur speaking to his son, but it was muffled, until footsteps started approaching. And suddenly, there he was, the boy I feel deeply in love with was now a man, standing even taller than before. Although we both looked different, it was as if we were teenagers again.

“(Y/N)...I...I can’t believe...” he couldn’t form a sentence, his gaze now on the twins.

I knelt between my children, hugging them close to me.“This is (Y/S/N), and (Y/D/N). They’re my world. And...your children too.”

The kids curled into me, noticing the tension in the room. They didn’t know this big man, and they could sense that I was on edge. I put on a brave face for them. I was their mother, their protector, I would always ensure that they felt comfortable, safe, happy and loved.

“M-my children?” he was still looking at them.

“I think you two should talk before...well before a proper meeting, yeah?” Arthur gently suggested.

“Alright.” I agreed.“You two go upstairs and play, you can come down in a bit, OK?”

“Come on you two, let’s go see what toys I’ve got for you. You can show me yours.” Molly said happily, wanting to make the kids relaxed.

They hesitantly went, but I heard them starting to talk about what toys they had and wanted as they climbed the stairs, Molly feigning surprise and interest.

“I’ll just be in the garden, should you need me.” Arthur said before leaving.

And then there we were. Just us two again. I hadn’t seen him in five years, not since that week of our argument. Multiple emotions rushed through me; I could be angry, upset, frustrated, desperate, loving, relieved...all were pushing their way to the front of my mind, wanting to have their chance to speak.

“Five years.” Fred mumbled.

“Five years.” I repeated.

“I...I can’t speak. I can’t, I can’t think right now. I had so much I wanted to say.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Their names...I remember us talking about them.”

“Yeah. I always liked them.”

“Are they...well, do they know...”

“They know you’re their father. I've always avoided this kind of topic as much as I could with them. They've obviously asked in the past, but I guess since they were so used to it just being me, it was normal for them."

"How have you been?"

"Pretty good, for what it's worth. I was able to get on my feet, with the help of family, I gave birth to them with no complications, all by myself until the last minute. Mum had burst into the room, her face bright red as she rushed to my side. It was scary. And from there I managed to get us a small house, just the necessary rooms, and I try and treat them as much as I can, if the budget will allow it."

"Why didn't you contact me sooner?"

"Why didn't you contact me?" I snapped back."You had the means to do so as well. You probably had more time than I had to even think about contacting me!"

He slightly raised his hands, trying to calm me down."OK, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

“No, I'm sorry." I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands."I'm just feeling a lot of mixed things right now."

I heard him shuffle around before the chair next to mine scraped along the floor, and he sat in it."I know. So am I."

"I came here because (Y/D/N) is sick. An option we have is a transfusion of blood but we have to find the right person. They said the most likely match would come from a family member. All of mine have tried, even distant relatives. That's why I came in the first place."

His face had fallen into a sad expression, eyebrows furrowed."Wait, what does that mean?"

"She won't die, nothing like that. Even with the right treatment, she would have to go to hospital throughout her life. (Y/D/N) will be a sickly person throughout her life."

“Of course I’ll help. I know we all will.”

I smiled through my tears.“Thank you Fred. That means everything to me.”

“But...” he looked down at the table, slowly sliding his hand towards mine. He boldly placed it on top of mine,“I want to look after you too.”

“Fred-”

“No, please listen. There has not been a day where I didn’t regret what I said to you the last time we saw each other. I...I thought about you everyday, but I was too selfish, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. My love for you, it was...it is enormous. I think as a teen, I knew I was in love, I just didn’t realise how painful it would be when I lost you. And it was all my fault.”

“We’re both to blame. Throughout my pregnancy, I tried to hate you. I convinced myself I did, though deep, deep down in my heart, the love was still there. I told myself I could do this without you, and some days it really felt like that. Others, it would have been nice to have someone else around. And not just to help with the kids. To feel...like a normal family. To have someone look after me at the end of a long day.”

“I can’t believe no one else snatched you up.” he smiled.“You’ve become more beautiful over the years, I didn’t think that was possible.”

I blushed, rolling my eyes at his compliment.“Surprisingly, no one wants a woman with two kids, especially young kids.”

“Can’t say I’m too angry about that.”

“What are we doing Fred? It can’t go back to how it used to be. Not...not straight away.”

“You think you could forgive me?”

“And me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I kept you from your children! I could have done this years ago. They...they could have had their father in their lives, we knew how to get to each other.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes as I began crying.

“Hey,” Fred’s other arm wrapped around my shoulders,“you’re here now with me. I will apologise everyday if it means you can look me in the eyes and feel happiness. You deserve that much. And as for (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N), I would love to get to know them. We can see where it goes, and further down the line...well, we can take baby steps.”

I sniffled.“You really want to do that?”

He smiled and nodded.“I’m going to be here for you all from now on. They’re my kids, and you’re the mother of my children. I’m going to make up for lost time.”

He tenderly embraced me, and how I had missed this feeling with him. I reacted, holding onto him as I continued to silently cry. He rocked us back and forth, but I could tell he was crying when I felt something drip onto my neck. This didn’t mean all was forgiven, it would take a while to mend everything between us, and for the kids to get used to their father again (and vice versa). Although I knew this would be a journey, I had some faith in it, and I prayed and hoped that someone from the Weasley side could help with (Y/D/N).

We were going to work through this. From what Fred had said, he was desperately wanting to reconnect. Perhaps we could be a family, and the last five years would be nothing compared to the rest of our lives.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fan fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Stepbrother

man Uh oh I can’t STOP myself adshjlalj Stepbro!Kiri just ugh. wow.

TW - pseudo-incest! if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read, do not pass go, do not collect a hundred dollars or whatever. This is NSFW, has a teensy bit of a wide variety of things. Full on non con/dub con, coercion, blackmail.

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

You don’t know when it had escalated.

There was a little nagging voice in the back of your head that told you, step-siblings shouldn’t be doing this.

Hell, you didn’t want to do this yourself. But Kiri asked, and you couldn’t say no. You never did, you always let him have what he wanted.

One time you had tried, gave out a hesitant, squeaky “No...” when Kiri had asked (begged) you to ride his face. Looking down at your toes wiggling nervously in your socks made you miss the way his face dropped, how his look soured.

“Nah, c’mon little sis, get up here on the bed. Let me do this, let me show you how much I love you, please? The longer you stall, the less time we have until mom and dad get home. It’d be so embarrassing for them to come home to find you sitting on my face, right?”

And so you climbed onto the bed, let him pull your panties off as tears escaped your eyes. Let him position you so your hands were clutching the headboard, legs spread so he could lay down underneath you. At least you were wearing a skirt, didn’t have to look at his face or see his expressions of glee as he ate you out.

A few minutes later you’d be crying for a different reason, Kiri anchoring your hips over his face as he refused to stop suckling at you, even though you’d just orgasmed.

The man was so needy, demanded so much of your time and attention. He’d come into your room, complaining how much his dick hurt, how he needed you to kiss it better. You didn’t want to, but you didn’t know how to tell him that. He’d just threaten to tell your parents what their daughter was doing with their son, how much her body liked it even if she insisted the opposite. So you’d do what he suggests, kiss his cock better through his jeans.

Kirishima was so sensitive too. A simple kiss over his jeans had him jerking his hips, moaning on the bed as he panted your name. “Do it again, please?” and you would. He’d keep asking, until standing up to tear off his jeans and boxers. “Can you lick me? it’ll help me feel good, oh lil sis, can you do that for me?” you would.

It wouldn’t take him long to be a moaning mess, red hair sticking to his flushed face, body shiny with sweat, hips jerking uncontrollably as you sucked at the head of his cock. Your hands would be fisting the rest of his length, essentially jerking him off inside your mouth, hot tongue laving at the tip. His voice would be so broken as he talked the whole time, telling you how pretty you looked like that, how you were the best sister a brother could ask for, you make him feel so nice.

When he cums in your mouth, it took everything in you not to throw up.

Sometimes he’ll just scoop you up, make you abandon whatever you’re doing so he can whisk you off to his room. You’ll get put gently on the bed, and he’ll scoot real close, push you to lay back. Kirishima will just hold you, feel your skin as he kisses you. Usually you’ll be able to feel his bulge as he grinds it against you, humping at your clothed pussy like a desperate dog, kissing you with a fierce adoration. You’d be lying if you said your cunt was dry by the time he let you up.

Inside, you hated those sessions the worst.

Kirishima was so loving and kind and sweet, it almost made you forget that you didn’t actually like what he did to you. When he slipped inside you after fingerfucking you to orgasm, getting you ready for the stretch of his cock. He’d try his best to be gentle, let you get used to the sensation before moving, but a lot of the times he couldn’t hold himself back.

He’d be crying as he fucked you, whimpering about how tight you were, how you squeezed his cock so good. His hips would jostle yours as he fucked into you fast, unable to stop himself from cumming into your hot, messy cunt. Then you’d both be crying, you because... well - the possibility of pregnancy. Kirishima because he felt entirely too good. Kiri would be sobbing into your shoulder, still hard and thrusting into you, planting kisses everywhere he could reach as he whined and moaned about how good his little sister was for him, letting him fuck his cum back into her.

The redhead was like a rabbit in heat, constantly pulling you into his lap, pulling your panties to the side underneath your skirt so he could slip his cock inside. You could be making yourself food in the kitchen and he’d come up behind you, bend you over and mount you like a dog. If you were taking a nap on the couch, Kiri would help himself to a little treat, eating you out like a man starved, startling you awake with an orgasm. You were pretty sure Kirishima had defiled you in some way or another on every single piece of furniture in the house.

It made you sick, yet you still came every time. You could only hope that he wouldn’t grow bolder, would continue to let you be a good, normal stepsister whenever your parents were around.

You don’t know what you’d do if he couldn’t keep his hands off you when they were home.

Not like they’d notice.

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

Bluebird

Words: 1568

Summary: Your new relationship with Adam Sackler is put to the test when a close family member passes away.

Tags/Warnings: angst, crying, death of a family member, funerals

Author’s Notes: This is based on an experience I had earlier this month, unfortunately. You could say I’ve been going through some shit lately. I found this helpful to write it all out - and although Sackler wasn’t there, I was surprised and overwhelmed by the support of my friends.

____________

You ended the call in shock and began to cry, almost forgetting that you were on a date. You looked up at the man sitting across the table. “Uhhh, kid? Everything okay?”

You had been dating Adam Sackler for a couple months when you heard your grandmother had passed away. Things were going really great - he was funny, charming, and a perfect match for your quirky personality. You felt absolutely terrible that you basically shut him out over the next week, as you were so incredibly busy seeing to the arrangements for the visitation, funeral, and the various meals that went along with it. As the oldest grandchild, you felt an extra responsibility to do more to support your family, often at the expense of your own emotional and physical well-being. Adam tried his best, calling you (he wasn’t much of a texter), stopping by your apartment, bringing you Gatorade to replenish your electrolytes...he really was too good to be true. You just didn’t know how to process your own emotions, let alone let someone else in on those emotions. You didn’t want to burden anyone. Regardless, you didn’t have time to burden anyone - there were phone calls to be made, meetings to attend, and the guy at the flower shop was being a real pain in your ass.

It was the day before the visitation and Adam had come by your apartment to bring you dinner from your favorite Chinese restaurant. You sat quietly on the couch together, eating directly out of the white paper cartons. You felt Adam’s intense gaze on you constantly, as if he was trying to read your mind - since you certainly weren’t going to share. “Kid - you good? What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” You answered with a mouth full of orange chicken. “Nuffin’ I’m fine,” you kept your eyes focused on your chopsticks, avoiding those hazel eyes. “Graaraggghhhaaarrrrr” Adam slammed his beef and broccoli onto the table with a loud groan, standing up from the couch. He began pacing the living room, hands in fists, primal noises escaping his plush pink lips. “Adam!” You shouted at him, setting your dinner down as well. “When are you going to knock off this ‘I’m too evolved to possibly need help’ act? I’m working my ass off here to get you to let me in! Let me help you, Y/N, you’re doing too much! Please!” Adam knelt down in front of you, grabbing your hands and looking up at you with his puppy dog eyes. You slapped his hands away, standing up and stomping across the room. “I am not too evolved! I’m fine - I told you that. Multiple times! And if you can’t understand that, maybe you should just leave. I have so much work to do for tomorrow, and you’re distracting me with your drama.” You pointed at the door. “Y/N...come on…” he sat back on his heels, eyes wide with worry. “It’s probably best that you just go...I’m sorry.” You opened the apartment door for him. Adam stood up to leave, walking towards you. He leaned in for a kiss, but you turned your head away. He settled for a kiss on the cheek, and a squeeze of your shoulder, as he exited.

You locked the door, and leaned your back against it for support as you felt your entire body weakening. You closed your eyes and slid down the wall, collapsing into a puddle on the floor. Your body heaved with sobs so intense you didn’t even make a noise. Your eyes were screwed shut so tightly, but the tears still flew out of your eyes, soaking your face and shirt. You pulled your knees tight to your chest, the pain from the weight of the week slightly relieved by the opening of your shoulder blades. Opening your eyes, you completed your breathing exercise which usually worked to calm you down. In for four seconds, hold for four seconds, out for eight seconds. Repeat until calm. Your breaths began as shaky and stuttered, eventually evening out, causing a release of tension across your face, shoulders, and back. You could have kept crying for hours, but as you told Adam, there was too much to do. Thinking about Adam made your eyes well up again, but you shook it off. Focus. Pushing yourself off of the floor, you headed to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You barely slept that night, tossing and turning, thinking of the work to do the next day. You’d wake up, remembering something you hadn’t done yet, and roll over to write it on the notepad you kept on your bedside table. Looking in the mirror in the morning, your face was puffy and eyes bloodshot. You groaned. What a horrible day this was going to be. You took a quick shower and pulled yourself together as much as possible. You had three errands you had to run before getting to the funeral home to set-up. Getting into your car, you had a chance to look at your phone for the first time and saw two missed calls from Adam. Setting your phone on the passenger seat, you promised yourself you’d call him after the day was over. Choking back tears, you went through your day. With each item you crossed off the list, two were added. Your resolve was at risk of failing, but there wasn’t time to let that happen.

At 4:00pm, the doors were opened, letting in the friends and family who had arrived to pay their respects and share their sympathies. You stood tall and strong in the front of the room, wearing a simple, conservative black dress and sandals with the slightest heel. You knew you were going to be running around, and comfortable shoes were a necessity. You greeted the crowds of family and friends with hugs and handshakes, smiling at the compliments and accepting the words of sympathy. “You look just like her when she was younger.” “She was so proud of you.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, smiled, and said thank you before moving on to the next person. One hour into the two hour event, your cousin elbowed you in the side, pointing towards the door. “Who’s the giant? Someone from grandpa’s side of the family?”

You immediately burst into tears. There, towering over a sea of white haired aunties, was Adam. Wearing a brown tweed jacket, blue button down and green tie, he was scoping the room in search of you. When he found you, he began swimming through the crowd of elderly visitors. “‘Scuze me! Fuck! Sorry! Oof!” You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. Finding his way over, he stood in front of you, slightly out of breath. “Hey, kid.” Through your sobs you replied, “You came.” He sighed. “I’m always going to be here for you, kid. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You crashed into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his chest, resting your forehead on his sternum. You stayed here and cried for what seemed like hours, Adam squeezing you back, while also managing to rub your back and stroke your hair. Adam stood by your side the rest of the evening, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. You caught yourself introducing him as your boyfriend, to which he looked down at you and smiled, squeezing your waist in approval.

He drove you home that night and you asked him to stay, where he held you all night, his large body intertwined with yours. When waves of sadness crashed over you during the night, he rubbed your back and walked you through your breathing exercises. He made you breakfast in the morning, where he asked you to tell him stories about her. He listened intently, smiling and laughing, and at one point even shedding a few tears. He stood tall and strong next to you at the funeral, smiling up at you as you read a bible passage in front of the entire church, kissing your cheek when you returned. In the car, after everything was over and done with, you turned to look at him. He chewed his lip as he drove through the crowded downtown streets, his dark shaggy hair falling into his gorgeous eyes. “I’m sorry I pushed you away, Adam.” You began to cry, reaching over to put your hand on his thigh. “I can’t imagine having done this week without you. Thank you - for everything.” He reached down to hold your hand in his. “Thank you for letting me in, kid. I was fucking scared, seeing you burnt out like that. You gotta talk to me, Y/N, you know I love the sound of your voice.” He squeezed your hand and pulled into a parking spot. “I’m sad this week is over - it means she’s really gone.” You looked down into your lap, tears spilling onto your cheeks. Adam wiped a tear off of your cheek. “You know she’s floatin’ around here or some shit - you just gotta be open to seeing her. Like over there!” He excitedly pointed to a bluebird that had landed on the railing of your front stoop. You smiled, taking a deep, cleansing breath, as you both sat in silence watching the bird before it gracefully flew away.

A/N: special thanks to @agirlwhoisaphantom and @weareallstoriesintheend for their support this past month. I wouldn’t still be upright without them.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler angst #adam driver character universe #adcu #adam driver #adcu fic

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

don’t say you miss me

word count: 5.5k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, references to sex but nothing explicit, cursing, recreational drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, there is no happy ending

recommended listening: overnight | maggie rogers

series masterpost: here

a/n: second installment of hiiapl! little overnight inspired ditty that i’m actually pretty proud of. i’m having so much fun with this it’s insane

You had never meant to get attached.

It was a lot easier said than done – especially with Kevin. He was loud and obnoxious, sure, but it was part of his charm. When you first met him, outside a club in downtown Winnipeg, you were blown away by his duality. He had been so loud with his group but quietly brought you a bottle of water after you puked on the sidewalk. After insisting you take his number so you could let him know you got home safely, Kevin convinced you to go to dinner with him. One meal turned into several and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual fling with the Winnipeg Jets’ newest centre. It was mostly sex, with the ocasional interaction outside of the bedroom, but something about Kevin made it feel like more than just a hookup. Over the few months you slept together your feelings shifted, and you began to harbour a rather large crush.

Just when you were going to take the leap and talk to Kevin about getting serious fate reared its ugly head. After only being in Winnipeg for six months, electing to not return to Massechusettes right away after the Jets playoff run finished, Kevin was traded out of the city. The news split your heart in two – there was no way the two of you could become a couple. Though long distance could have been an option, you weren’t going to ask him to commit to that. Being a professional athlete is tough as is, and having a girlfriend a six hour flight away was extra stress you refused to put on Kevin.

The last night you spent with Kevin was emotional. Lots of tears were shed, mostly from you. You knew he was compartmentalizing it all and trying to not let you know how much the trade was affecting him. Whenever the two of you had talked about hockey, Kevin was always quick to mention how much he loved Winnipeg and how much he wanted to stay. Neither of you talked much, too focussed on wallowing in sadness and committing each other’s bodies to memory. He left the next morning, and there was a silent agreement that whatever the two of you had was over. It was fun while it lasted but now you both have to be adults and get on with life.

☼☼☼☼

Nearly six months later you consider yourself to be getting on with life just fine. You’ve got a better paying job, a new apartment, and enthusiastically throw yourself into any project that’s presented. To others, however, you’re barely hanging on. Any time you get a text notification, you hold your breath until a name flashes that isn’t Kevin’s. A notification from Instagram saying he viewed your story makes your heart beat three times as fast. You constantly check for updates on how he’s playing, and watch as many Flyers games media blackouts will allow just to catch a glimpse of his face. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t shake Kevin Hayes.

“They’ll be in town this weekend,” your best friend Rachel says. “Are you gonna reach out to him?”

You nearly drop the carton of chinese food you’re eating on the floor. “I didn’t know that,” you stammer, trying to make your surprise believable. Kevin will be back in Winnipeg for the first time since being traded. You knew this already, of course, because you have the Flyers scheduled imprinted in your memory.

She narrows her eyes at you. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You knew they were coming to town. The NHL app stays open on your phone at all times.”

Caught in your lie, you can do nothing but duck your head. You’ve thought a lot about what you’re going to do. Should you send him a text, let him know you’re available after the game? Or should you ignore him completely and make it seem as though you’re doing much better than you are?

“I don’t know Rach. I’ve never had a sort of ex come back to the city he left me in.”

“He didn’t necessarily want to leave you,” Rachel points out. “He got traded. If you want my two cents, I don’t think you should give him a call. You need to move on, not stay stuck in the past.”

Your friend is right, and you know that’s what you should do. Moving on from Kevin would be easier if you didn’t try to contact him. He hasn’t reached out to you so you assume you’re the only one in the relationship still struggling to come to terms with his departure. You struggle with the decision until puck drop, but ultimately decide against texting him. It simply wouldn’t be beneficial for your fragile heart.

A small group of friends has gathered at Rachel’s to watch the game. You’re lucky, or unlucky, to run with a crowd of die-hard Jets fans who get together any time they play, whether it’s at someone’s house or a sports bar around the corner from the arena. Though you tried your best to get out of it tonight, making up any excuse you can think of to stay at home and sob quietly into a pillow, Rachel knows better than to let you be alone and forces you to be in attendance.

It’s a pretty quiet game with the Jets dominating the first two periods. The Flyers are sluggish, not connecting passes and taking far too many penalties. You’re pretty sure Winnipeg has it in the bag when the puck drops for the final twenty minutes of play, so you turn your attention away from the television, picking up a conversation with Christina, the girl your friend Tyler brought along.

Some choice words must have been said to the Flyers in the intermission because they come out swinging. Before you can comprehend what’s happening, they’ve tied the game. The period is full of contact, with multiple players from each team spending time in the penalty box. Your attention is once again returned to the large screen for the final few minutes, and your jaw drops as you watch Kevin dangle through the Jets defence to sink the puck into the back of the net. It turns out to be the game winning goal, and you sit in silence as your friends pay up the money they lost in bets and check their updated fantasy pool standings. Maybe you should text him.

“Don’t fucking do it,” you hear Rachel whisper in your ear. Your other friends know of your past with Kevin, they were around and spent some time with him, but they don’t know how much you were still holding on. Everyone besides Rachel assumes you’re alright – that Kevin is just a blip in your past.

You roll your eyes and sigh, but tuck your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. It stays there – out of sight, out of mind – until it buzzes some time later. Expecting it to be your mother hounding you for not calling in a while, you pull it out. A message from Kevin flashes and you go whiter than a ghost.

Taking the boys out celebrating the big win. You in?

The words, so casual, feel like a punch to the stomach. Why the months of radio silence just to ask to see him like you’re friends? Making sure that no one is paying attention to you, you quickly type out a reply.

That’s not a good idea and you know it Kevin.

You send the message and immediately turn off your phone. This way you won’t have to deal with the aftermath until much later. You allow other things to hold your attention and don’t head home until you’re so tired that it will be impossible for you to think about Kevin’s text.

When you power your phone back up in the morning, you’re shocked to find that Kevin never responded. He obviously didn’t care too much about your absence, and part of you wonders if he was just being polite. It doesn’t make sense, but instead of letting your brain overthink the lack of response you throw yourself headfirst into cleaning your apartment. Hours later it’s spotless, and you slump onto the couch in a pile of exhaustion. You check your social media notifications, a few mentions from your friends about the shenanigans you all got up to the night before and your sister tagging you in a post letting you know she’d like to visit a specific beach the next time she comes to visit. Kevin’s profile photo sits at the top of your instagram feed, and before you can stop yourself you click to view his story.

It’s a snapshot of his teammates with bright smiles on their faces. Each of them is holding a can of beer, and a few look as though they shared a joint before entering the establishment. The photo is captioned ‘glad to be back in winterpeg’ and is accompanied by a couple of snowflake emojis. Your heart clenches inside your chest – it hurts more than you thought it would to see him enjoying himself as though he has no bittersweet feelings about being back. It would be beneficial to unfollow Kevin, but you can’t force yourself to pull the metaphorical trigger and completely cut him from your life.

Kevin leaves the next day for Vancouver. You know this because you watch his story yet again, and curse yourself for grasping at straws. Why must he have such a strong hold on you after so long? A call to Rachel has her driving to your place in minutes, ready to hold you while you cry and distract you from the pain that still lingers from his first departure.

☼☼☼☼

It’s easier to forget Kevin without him being in the city – you do your best, and eventually it sort of sticks.

He no longer crosses your mind every few days. You go weeks, sometimes a month or two, without thinking about him. It’s nice to no longer get sad when you enter a bar you frequented with him or wince when someone mentions how he’s playing. It also helps that he never returns to Winnipeg.

There’s no reason for him to. The Flyers don’t play another away game against the Jets the rest of season, and as far as you know he doesn’t frequently talk to his old teammates. Your life fades into a quiet routine you come to love dearly. The world feels balanced for the first time since Kevin left and you’re nothing but thankful.

Life moves on, and you find yourself succeeding in your career – so much so that you’re quickly offered a promotion. The change increases your workload and doesn’t leave you much of a life outside of work, but it doesn’t matter much to you. It’s a welcome distraction and keeps thoughts of Kevin out of your mind. No one comments on your genuine improvement, but you know they can see it. Rachel is proud, and she’s told you exactly once. It’s all you’ll get out of her so you take it and roll with it. The rest of the regular season passes without you so much as knowing, or caring, and before you know it there’s a notification for an article saying the Flyers were eliminated in the second round. For the first time you find it really hard to care.

☼☼☼☼

Summers in Winnipeg are your favourite. The city is warm for the first time all year and the flowers look beautiful in full bloom. With the promotion you’re afforded more vacation time, which you plan to take full advantage. There’s nothing you love more than hanging with friends in the sun, soaking up the rays, and casually drinking.

The days bleed into one another in the way that all good summers should, and before you realize it it’s your last day at work for a week. It will be nice to be free from workplace constraints for a while, and your friends have the time off as well. The group of you are heading to a cabin on Falcon Lake where you’re sure lots of partying will take place. You suggested getting farther away, but settled on the area in case Tyler’s sister goes into labour. He’s a very family oriented person and offered to watch his nephew when the time comes.

Four o’clock comes faster than you ever could have imagined, and you cheerfully wave goodbye to your co-workers. Some complain of your ability to leave during the busiest season of the year, but most of them wish you well. You put an immense amount of work into your job regardless of the quarter and know you deserve the break. If you don’t stop at the grocery store on your way you’ll be in trouble since you’re in charge of all the breakfasts and you currently only have a half-eaten loaf of bread that could go stale any day.

You’re in the cereal aisle, deciding whether or not you really need Honey Nut Cheerios for the trip, when you hear his unforgettable voice. It’s loud and booming and brings back so many feelings that you’ve learned to repress that you turn on your heel and head to the nearest self checkout despite only gathering half the items on your list.

Back in your car, you dial Rachel’s number and try to regulate your breathing.

“Hello?”

You don’t bother with any formalities. “Kevin is here.”

“In Winnipeg?” she asks, more than a tad confused. “Why would he be in Winnipeg?”

The interior of the Ford Escape you drive feels too small, so you crack a window and peel out of the parking space. Rachel’s voice reverberates throughout the car thanks to the bluetooth system. “I don’t fucking know, but he’s here.”

“I don’t think that’s possible Y/N,” Rachel says, always the realist. “He lives in Boston. What would he be doing in Winnipeg in the middle of July?”

You aren’t sure, and make sure to tell her so. “But it was him,” you swear. “He was in the grocery store.” You stop at a red light, placing your blinker on and checking both ways before turning right. A few more minutes and you’d be safely tucked away in your apartment, away from the world and the possibility of running into Kevin.

“There’s like a hundred tall gingers in the city babe, you didn’t see him.”

“You’re right, I didn’t see him,” you agree. “I heard him. How many tall gingers are there in Winnipeg with Boston accents?”

“Oh fuck. I’m coming over.” With that, Rachel hangs up, and you pull into the parking garage. You sit in silence for a minute or two before deciding your shaking legs can hold you upright. Perhaps you weren’t as over Kevin as you thought.

Rachel spends the rest of the afternoon and evening with you, ensuring you don’t do anything stupid and letting you spew all your feelings, both good and bad. More than one bottle of wine is consumed, but you have more than enough time to nurse a hangover. If you play your cards right through the week this won’t be the only time you do it either.

You wake up on top of your pristine sheets, Rachel grumbling beside you – she’s never been as good at holding her alcohol.

“What time is it?”

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes a few numbers and you have to stare at them for a minute before you comprehend them. “Just after eight,” you say, sitting up. Surprisingly, you feel fine. Maybe the crippling weight of your feelings for Kevin cancels out the hangover you most definitely should be feeling.

“We need to get going. Gotta pack the car and hit the road. I’m the one who needs to get the keys so we have to be there before everyone else,” she sighs, grumbling something else under her breath as her feet hit the floor.

You just laugh at her and head into the kitchen. While Rachel showers you make coffee and pack the food into the ancient cooler your father gave you when you moved out many moons ago. It has served its purpose on several trips like this – you’ll be sad to see it go eventually. You switch places with Rachel, and once you’re feeling refreshed the two of you stuff your trunk and hit the road.

The drive is rather uneventful, with the both of you sitting in silence, and it doesn’t take you long to approach your destination. Rachel is a poor navigator so you’re tasked with figuring out where you’re going and making sure you get there, but it could be worse. You have a general sense of where you’re going. Getting the keys is painless and you get to work unpacking your overloaded SUV.

“Do you think there will be other people around we can party with?” Rachel asks as you close the trunk for the last time.

You shrug. “Don’t know Rach. It doesn’t look like it.”

She drops it, agreeing with you, and you separate to unpack your personal belongings. The cabin is large enough that no one has to share a room, which you’re grateful for. Though you love your friends dearly, they don’t always know what personal space is. At some point in the afternoon the rest of the group trickles in, and by dinner you’ve all settled and are ready to party.

Tyler figures out how to use the ancient barbeque and sets to work cooking the burgers. Everyone else gets side dishes ready or sets the table, with Christine starting a bonfire. You don’t know her well, only having met her a few times, but your friend seems to be infatuated with her. She fits in great with the group so you aren’t worried about any awkward tension. Dinner passes in a fit of giggles and shouts, and once the dishes are done you can relax fully.

The beer you grab from the fridge on your way out the door makes your insides fuzzy in the best way possible. By the fire, surrounded by those who care about you the most, you feel at peace. You’re yet to think about the sudden reappearance of Kevin in Winnipeg, and you’d like to keep it that way. Someone grabs the beat up acoustic guitar you found in the living room and thrusts it in your direction. You’d taught yourself to play in college, and it comes in handy for times like this.

“I refuse to play Wonderwall,” you laugh, shooting pointed looks at each and every person sitting around you.

“Come on Y/N,” Rachel groans. “Just once?”

“Fuck off.”

You don’t mean it, of course, and strum the opening chords with a grimace on your face. Tyler counts everyone in and they sing for you, which is appreciated. You might be decent at playing, but your singing voice is one that shouldn’t see the light of day if it can be helped. It’s more fun than you imagined it could be so one song turns into three, and before you know it your makeshift jamboree attracts the attention of the neighbours you didn’t know existed.

Applause erupts from behind you, and you flush enough that your cheeks warm significantly. “You guys are so good I hate to disrupt the rhythm,” a deep voice says, “But do you mind if a buddy and I join you? We’re a little lonely by ourselves next door.”

Tyler’s out of his seat in a heartbeat, jumping up to pat the man on the back. “Of course man, come on over! I’m Tyler, and that’s Rachel, Christine, Marshall, and Y/N.”

You all wave politely, and the mystery guest introduces himself. “Nice you meet you guys. I’m Nolan.”

It’s then you get a good look at who you’re speaking to. He seems to be a few years younger than you, maybe early twenties, and he has a face you just can’t place. Maybe you’ve seen him around Winnipeg – the city is small enough that you can often spot the same faces in a crowd. “I’ll just yell at him to come over and we can get the party started,” Nolan explains, “Kev, bud, come on over! And bring a couple beers.”

All the blood rushes from your fingers at the name. You shake them intensely, willing your circulatory system to function properly again. If you had to hazard a guess there’s probably a million people in Manitoba named Kevin. There’s no reason for it to be Kevin Hayes. You’re most certainly still spooked from your near encounter with him yesterday.

“Fuck Patty, you couldn’t come back and grab your own?” the emerging figure grumbles in the vocal stylings you’ll have imprinted on your heart until your dying day. Kevin is here, and if you don’t leave in the next few seconds you’ll be face to face with him for the first time in over a year.

You stand abruptly, not stopping to explain your hasty exit to anyone, and practically run into the house. The door slams behind you and you do your best to make your heart rate return to normal. Tyler shouts something you can’t quite comprehend, but you know it’s probably some sort of reconnection greeting. He’d met Kevin a couple of times while the two of you were together and had gotten along with him well.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “You good?”

You hadn’t heard her come in. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean like I knew he was in town but never in a million years did I think he’d crash my fucking vacation.”

She nods in agreement. “What do you want to do?”

“Stay in here forever?” An eye roll is sent your way but you choose to ignore it. “I’m serious Rach, I can’t go back out there, at least not tonight. Every time I think I’m over him he finds a way to make me realize I’m just faking.”

“I know,” Rachel says simply. She really does – as your best friend she’s privy to your every thought on the matter. After making sure that you'll be okay she heads back outside, armed with an excuse for your early departure.

You spend the rest of the night tucked under the covers, listening to the laughter of your friends outside, no doubt in your mind that Kevin is the source for most of it. He’s always been good at commanding an audience. Thoughts swim freely in your brain, most of them occupied by Kevin in some capacity. Was tonight just a one off? Will you have to eventually face him? What will you say? Eventually sleep comes, though it’s fitful and fleeting.

☼☼☼☼

You do your best to avoid Kevin, and it works for a day or two. Tyler has stricken up a friendship with the athlete, and spends more time with him and Nolan than your group. You don’t mind all that much because they typically are out on Nolan’s boat or lounging in their cabin, but every night the group reconvenes at your firepit. The excuses are starting to run out – there’s only so many times you can say you have heat exhaustion before someone stops believing you.

“Y/N, Kevin hasn’t even mentioned you,” Tyler whines one night after dinner. “It won’t be awkward. We only have a few days left, please spend time with us?”

“I’m spending plenty of time with you,” you grumble. “You promise he won’t say anything?”

Tyler shoots you a smile that lets you know he knows that he’s broken down your resolve. “Why would he? If he was going to do it he would have already.”

You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re glad he’s faring better than you, but on the other hand you wish he’d at least make an effort to inquire into your well-being. Maybe it was simply proof that you were still holding onto something that didn’t mean much of anything. Eventually you’d have to face the music, whether it be with Kevin or someone in the future, so you make the decision to try and at least get used to seeing former flames in social settings.

“You’re rolling my joints tonight asshole,” you grumble, shoving your sock clad feet into a pair of worn out sandals.

There’s a small commotion, mostly in excitement at your begrudging agreement, and you roll your eyes as you grab what is destined to be your first of many beers from the fridge. Rachel slides up beside you on the way out the door and squeezes your hand, letting you know she’s ready to support you no matter what happens. It’s comforting, and the nerves in your stomach settle a small amount.

Marshall is already outside, helping Nolan start the fire. They seem to be extremely similar and you’re glad they can seek each other out when the rest of the group gets too rambunctious. The rest of your party filters out of the house and takes up residence in the adirondack chairs. Kevin doesn’t appear to be around, so you allow yourself to speak freely, loud and unabashed.

“No I’m telling you,” you insist, trying to convince Nolan your stance on Jack Antonoff is correct. “Jack is literally responsible for reinventing pop production.”

He laughs at how into the conversation you are. “Why the fuck should I care?”

“Because you fucking listen to Lorde!”

Someone else is laughing along with you and it nearly stops you in your tracks. At some point Kevin had joined the party, but you hadn’t noticed. Knowing that he was listening makes you suddenly self conscious, and you wrap your sweater tighter around your shoulders. Nolan can tell you’re uncomfortable and does his best to relieve the tension.

“Kev, do you wanna run back and grab the weed?” he asks.

The auburn haired man pulls a baggie out of his hoodie pocket. “Got it right here baby cat,” he grins. “And it’s ready to go. You got a light?”

Nolan tosses him the lighter and Kevin expertly puts the joint between his parted lips. He lets the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling, and you watch him more intently than you should. You’re thrown back to the memories of Kevin’s apartment downtown, where you’d smoke in content silence after a night of passionate sex. The scenes flash in your mind and you’re overcome with melancholia. You had been so happy in the moment, and now you’re in a similar situation but feel nothing. Other than sharing in your laughter, Kevin is yet to say anything to you.

You must have been lost in your thoughts, because Kevin is staring at you with a quizzical expression. “Y/N? Do you want a hit?”

It takes you a second to snap out of your daze, but to cautiously take the lit joint from his hand. “Thank you Kevin,” you say, voice timid. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since he left Winnipeg for the first time.

He shoots you a dazzling smile and your insides threaten to turn to mush. No matter how hard you’ve tried to convince yourself you over him, that you’ve moved on from Kevin, you know you’re wrong. Kevin Hayes will have some sort of hold on you until you die. To distract yourself from the overwhelming amount of emotion you inhale deeply, hoping that the buzz smoking will bring can clear your mind. You really don’t want to think about what you lost when he’s right in front of you.

The three of you sit in silence, passing the joint in a circle, and listen to the conversation your friends are engaged in. Marshall ropes Nolan into a game of cornhole and he goes begrudgingly. As he stands he sends you a sympathetic look, and you know that he’s familiar with your history with Kevin. It doesn’t surprise you – Kevin isn’t exactly one to keep secrets.

“So,” Kevin says once it’s just the two of you, “How have you been?”

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been good. Work has been crazy lately, so this break has been really nice.”

He presses, and you indulge him in a conversation about your new job, though it can barely be considered that now. Everything is surface level – you’re afraid of letting Kevin in too much. Though your fling may have been brief, it didn’t make his departure or the lack of contact any easier. He tells you about his life in Philadelphia and how much he loves it there. Before you can stop yourself, you ask him a loaded question.

“Do you like it more than Winnipeg?”

Kevin falters. It takes both of you a moment to process what you said. Not one to lie, he answers truthfully. “Yeah.” It comes out in a sort of deflated sigh. “But I miss –”

“Don’t say it,” you rush, trying hard to keep your voice down. “You don’t mean it.”

An embittered huff comes from him, and you watch carefully as he peels the worn ball cap off his head and tugs on his curls. “I do,” he insists. “I absolutely miss you.”

You no longer care who can hear you. “If you missed me, you would have texted. Called. Anything,” you say cooly. Everyone else has clued in to the fact that something is going on between you and Kevin, and have migrated inside in an attempt to give you privacy.

“I did. You’re the one who said it wasn’t a good idea to see each other again.”

“Because it had been over half a year!” you shriek. “And it had been radio silence before then. You left Kevin, and I’m not blaming you. I know it’s your job. But you left and it was so fucking hard, and it stung because you didn’t even try. So when you hit me up after that game I knew I had to say no. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’m still so in love with you that if you asked I’d uproot my life and follow you to Philly. I don’t want to be that girl.”

The outburst leaves you gasping for breath. Never before had you spilled heartache so fast – with a sort of reckless abandon. Anytime you’ve had these types of conversations you’ve been calm and collected. You’re currently the farthest thing from it.

Kevin’s expression softens, and a sadness fills his eyes. “I was scared,” he begins, “Because for the first time in my life I was with someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. Sure, we weren’t serious, but I was going to take it there. Then I got traded and the plans I had went to shit and I was too scared to do anything about it. So I let you slip away.”

Silence fills the space between you. You don’t know what to say, so you focus on unraveling the loose thread from the hem of your cardigan. Kevin shuffles in his seat awkwardly. “Where do we, uh, go from here?”

The question shocks you. To the best of your understanding, you had made it perfectly clear where your relationship was headed. “Nowhere,” you breathe. “You head back to Philly, meet another girl, and fall in love. I stay here, do my job, and learn to be content with myself.”

“There’s no room for us in your little plan?”

“We’ve run our course Kev. As much as I still love you, will always love you, we’re too fundamentally different for us both to really be happy in a relationship. You have to know that.”

He nods. “I do.” With that, Kevin rises from the chair, gives you a sad smile, and leaves. You assume he’s calling it a night, and you wish to do the same. Finally having that conversation was exhausting and all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.

☼☼☼☼

The rest of the trip passes without you seeing Kevin again. He and Nolan left early the morning after your conversation, and you do your best to enjoy yourself. Part of your brain makes you believe you’re the reason they left, though Tyler tells you otherwise. No one asks about what happened between you two, not even Rachel, and you return to the city determined to start anew. Eventually you break the cycle of obsessing over Kevin’s stats, and take it upon yourself to unfollow him on social media. Life goes on.

Things never really get easier. You still find yourself grieving the loss of Kevin, late at night when you can’t sleep, but are confident in your decision to say goodbye for good. Time heals everything, and eventually you’ll be okay.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites #hiiapl

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

missing ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1603

request?: yes!

“Hey. Could you please do a Colson Baker imagine where he’s constantly missing important dates between him and the reader and she always dismisses it because she knows he’s busy but one day he misses their anniversary dinner and it’s the breaking point for her and she’s high key upset and sad and she confronts him in tears but can barely get a word out because she’s crying so much and it’s all angsty but somehow still ends in fluff. Thank you✨”

description: dating a famous rapper/actor means that sometimes they’ll be too busy and forget things, which is fine, until it’s your anniversary

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist

Dating someone famous comes with its ups and downs, as every relationship did. Unfortunately, the downs of my relationship with Colson included him missing a lot of time with me. Of course, I didn’t blame him for that. His career was doing really well, and I’d never ask him to choose between that and me. Besides, I loved hearing his music and getting to see him at work. There was just something about watching the person you love doing what they are so passionate about that was beautiful.

But, it was a struggle to have to postpone so many dates or to go to important events alone because Colson had to miss them. I knew he felt bad, he always hated to have to tell me he was missing something, and I wasn’t upset with him, but it was just really hard.

Things came to a head on the night of our third anniversary. By the time our third anniversary had come around, I was living at Colson’s place, his daughter, Casie, saw me as her second mom, and Colson and I had been talking a lot about getting married. While three years isn’t exactly special in and of itself, the year we had spent together had been, so I wanted to do something special for Colson and I. I decided to make Colson’s favorite foods for him for dinner and dessert. I had talked to him for weeks about it.

“Baby, you don’t have to go through all that trouble,” he kept telling me. “We could go get take out and watch Netflix and I’d still love it just as much.”

“We do that every day,” I told him. “I want this anniversary to be special. You’ll be off that night, right? No recording, no filming, no tours, nothing?”

He smiled and kissed my forehead. “I promise, baby. I’m all yours that night.”

He had left that morning to go meet up with the guys. He said he wanted to put some finishing touches on the album, then he’d be back for our anniversary dinner. I had no problem with that, as long as he was mine for the night.

I cooked for hours, making sure everything was absolutely perfect. In between putting stuff in the oven and taking it out to finish it, I cleaned the kitchen so it was the perfect setting for our night. I had even lit some candles in the middle of the table to make it look like a fancy restaurant.

I finished cooking and checked the time. Colson had been gone for a few hours and I had yet to hear from him. I wasn’t too concerned about it at first, I figured he would be home soon. I couldn’t expect him to be home the second I finished cooking when I didn’t give him a real time to be back.

I plated our food, making sure even the food looked amazing and presentable. I set the table, including putting the food in my spot and in Colson’s, and went upstairs to change. I had picked out a beautiful dress for the night, which may have been a step too far, but I just wanted everything to be perfect.

I saw at the table and checked my phone. Still no texts from Colson. I sighed and rested my head against my hand. I didn’t want to get upset just yet, I didn’t want to be that girlfriend. I kept telling myself he was probably running a little late, that he promised he’d be here and he’d be back soon. I just had to wait.

Nearly an hour passed and I hadn’t heard anything from him. No texts, no calls, and he wasn’t answering mine. I was still sat at the table, the food in front of me that I spent so long cooking getting cold. I was starting to get irritated and decided it was about time to call him.

His phone rang a handful of times before going to voicemail, which tipped me over my breaking point. When the phone beeped for me to leave a message, I decided to let him have it.

“Hey Colson, it’s me. You know, your girlfriend. The one that you promised you’d be home for tonight because it’s our three year anniversary. I’ve been waiting for like an hour now, our food is cold, and you’re not home nor are you answering your phone. I’m going to eat and go to bed, you can pop your food in the microwave if you want, and feel free to sleep in the spare room or something cause I don’t want to share a bed with you tonight. Happy three year anniversary fuck face.”

I hung up and immediately stomped up to our bedroom. I pulled on a hoodie and a fluffy pair of pajama pants before going back downstairs and putting my food in the microwave. I brought the plate up to my room and began to eat in silence, my anger bubbling over. By the time I had finished eating, my anger had turned to sadness and I had started to cry.

Another hour later, I heard our front door open. I hurried to turn the light off and get into bed to pretend like I was sleeping.

“(Y/N)?” Colson called. I heard his footsteps climbing up the stairs. “Babe?”

I tried not to flinch as he turned on the light.

“(Y/N)? Are you awake?”

Hearing his voice set something off in me. I had to try and keep back my tears so I didn’t start crying, but it was hard. I covered my mouth to muffle any sobs that were trying to come out, but I couldn’t stop my body from shaking.

The bed dipped next to me and I felt Colson put a hand on my shoulder, this time causing me to jump.

“(Y/N), babe, can you look at me?” he asked. I shook my head. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“Then why were you?” I snapped, rolling over to glare at him. “What happened that you had to miss our three year anniversary? After I told you that I had a whole night planned out for the two of us.”

“We were finishing the album and it took longer than we thought,” he explained. “We couldn’t get the right finishing touches on the last song, I was trying to push through it so I could come home and be all yours.”

“Yeah well, you weren’t all mine, were you?”

"I didn’t realize what time it was,” he tried to reason. “I’m so sorry honey, how can I make this up to you?”

I shook my head and got up from the bed. It was becoming evident that he wasn’t about to go sleep in the spare room, like I had asked him to.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” I responded. “There’s nothing you can do this time, Colson. You’ve finally crossed the line, you’ve reached the point of no return. Congratulations.”

He quickly stood from the bed and took hold of my arm to stop me. I tried to pull away, but he held on. Tears started falling from my eyes again as I tried to yank away from him in frustration and sadness. I tried to say something, to tell him to let me go, to curse him out, to tell him I was leaving, but I couldn’t get a word out between my heavy sobs.

He pulled me into his arms. I tried to fight back, but I really needed the hug. I needed to get all my emotions out. I hugged him back, allowing myself to fully sob into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he repeated. “I am so, so sorry. I know that those words don’t mean anything, but I really do mean it. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve had to miss important dates and events. I’m sorry that I make you feel like you’re not as important as my job. Fuck, I’m such an asshole.”

“It’s so hard,” I finally managed to choke out. “I know how important your job is, and I know how proud you are of everything you do, but it’s so hard to have to postpone important things all the time. It’s hard to have to go so long without seeing you, to have to go to events on my own because you’re busy. It’s just...it’s hard sometimes.”

“I know baby,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry.”

After some time, I found myself back in bed, still in his arms. I had cried so much that I could barley keep my eyes open from feeling tired anymore. Colson rested my head against his chest and his heartbeat was starting to lull me to sleep.

“I’m going to try harder,” he finally said. “I’m gonna try harder to be here with you. I want to spend so much time with you that you’ll become tired of me. I love you so much, (Y/N), I hate that I made you feel like this.”

“I’m sorry for the voicemail I left you,” I told him, my voice sheepish.

“No, please don’t be sorry. I deserved that. I’m sorry I missed tonight.”

“I’d say it’s okay, but it’s not. I’m still upset over it.”

I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. “I deserve that. How can I make it up to you?”

“You make dinner tomorrow night.”

He chuckled again and kissed the top of my head. “Okay baby, I will.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #estxx #imagine #one shot #request

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rat-father · 3 years

Text

I said I'd give Pora comfort so here it is

This one got long at 2.5k words and I didn't do any editing so good luck y'all lol this is the longest thing I've written

Tagging; @skunkandgrenade @jordanstrophe @whumping-out-of-time @whatwasmyprevioususername

-- tw;; intimate whumper, slave whump, food/eating, implied starvation, dehumanisation, normalisation of slavery, non con kiss (not sexual), mild whump mainly comfort, Mynci's attempt at being nice for day --

Pora stretched their arms out, finished hanging the last of the faerie lights. A heavy sigh escaped their lips, muscles aching from constant movement and repetitive posing. Cheerful laughter pierced their ears constantly, even at the dead of night. They dreaded the next day, they wanted to sleep through it all. Halloween had been.. Fun? The years prior. Or at least they thought so. They didn't remember hating it as much as they didn't remember anything else. It gave them a headache thinking back so far, to before they met Mynci. The lights greeted them when they came back out their thoughts.

Pora stepped back subconsciously, forgetting that they were standing on a stool until the hard floor collided with their body. Pain shot throughout them, crying out a sob. They greedily sucked in air through clenched teeth, deciding to take the moment to rest. They couldn't have closed their eyes for long when Mynci's footsteps calmly neared them, coaxing them to quickly push themselves up to their feet. They struggled to find their footing, terrified gaze locked on him.

„Sorry- I- I wasn't-“ they stammered.

„Sleeping without my permission? You definitely were.“

They swallowed dryly, accepting their inevitable fate. Their hands trembled nonetheless, waiting in anticipation.

„But,“ he continued. „I'm in a good mood today, so I'll forgive you this time.“

„Really?!“ they exclaimed in disbelief.

„Yes. But if you ruin my mood that will change before you know it.“

Tears sprung to their eyes, the information settling in. He saw their relief, a wide grin splitting his face. His hand carded through their tangled hair, freeing it from their sweaty forehead.

„Now, be good for me and finish setting all this up, hm?“ He gestured at the left over boxes filled with decorations.

„Yes, sir. I will.“

They snaked past him, his burning gaze following them. They caught a glimpse of the moon outside, surrounded by the tiny stars. The idea to stop and admire it crossed their mind, immediately deciding against it with Mynci still watching them. They searched through the closest box, taking out the biggest decorations to get them out of the way. They were planning to handle the smaller ones later. Once he was out of sight they could take things easy, and hopefully have time to rest before sunrise. He said he had a surprise planned for them, and they feared what that would be.

~-~

„Wake up, baby,“ Mynci cooed, squishing Pora's cheeks between his thumb and index finger.

They reluctantly opened their eyes, messy hair falling in front of their face. Slowly they rubbed their eyes, trying to speed up the process of waking up. He placed his hand on their chest, tracing down to their hips. They immediately sat up, legs twitching away at the touch. He chuckled lightly.

„Slept well? I found you passed out in the back room last night.“

„Sorry, I- I didn't mean to. I'm sorry,“ they stammered.

He hummed thoughtfully. „No matter. I don't want to ruin this special day. And neither do you.“

Pora nodded, slowing their pounding heart beat. He swung his legs over the mattress, jumping off the bed. He only wore black jog pants, contrasting his bare chest. They stared a moment too long, catching his attention.

„You get to stare at the me all day, you know,“ Mynci leaned over, dragging them out by their collar.

They yelped in surprise, latching onto his shoulder for support as they stumbled into him. He chuckled, his fingers tangling in their messy hair pulling them forward. He pressed his lips against theirs, nails moving up their spine. They melted under the touch, muscles relaxing. A blush warmed their face, gasping for air once he pulled away.

„Now, tell me, baby. Do you love me?“

„Y-yes.“ Pora said, hesitating slightly.

„Say it.“

„I..I love you.“

He gave a satisfied grin. „I love you too. I want this to be an amazing day, so be good for me.“

They nodded. It's rare that they got surprises, and they hoped that it would be a fun day, like he promised. He stepped away from them, swiftly moving to the closet to change his outfit. They took a quick glance at him, sitting back down on the mattress. The new breathing room it gave when he left felt nice, letting them regain their senses. A wave of nausea overcame them as hunger clawed at their stomach. They closed their eyes for a moment and waited for it to pass, listening to the sound of fabric getting moved around.

Pora subconsciously tugged at their own shirt, stained with dry blood. They couldn't remember which wound was the source of the stains, all the times he hurt them blending together in a fog. They squinted their eyes open, in time to watch him pull another set of clothing out of the closet. They straightened their back, slightly adjusting their position.

„I think the clothes you have now are a bit too cold to wear outside this season. If people see you like that they might just think I'm torturing you!“ Mynci laughed.

They forced themselves to smile, catching the clothes as he threw it at them. They took off their old shirt, replacing it with the gray blouse he gave them, and put on the long pants. The fabric felt a lot softer with a welcoming warmth as their exposed skin got covered. He pulled his hair back in a ponytail, side eying them. He offered his hand, helping them get up. They placed their hand on top of his, their fingers intertwining immediately. A kind smile painted his face, making them forget who he was momentarily.

He led them out to the front door of the tent, familiar sound of laughter and cheering much clearer to them. They saw the source of all the noise, children holding hands with their parents or running in front of them. Pora couldn't help but stare as they passed them by, unknowing of their situation. Mynci lightly squeezed their hand, pulling their attention back to him with a glare. They quickly muttered an apology, walking a small step closer by his side.

Pora's eyes kept wandering over to the various attractions, stalls and everything in the environment, awing at it all like a child. Mynci smiled to himself, seeing his slave so amazed by everything. He took them to his favorite small restaurant on the edge of the park, close to the circus. He knew the owner personally, and had since she moved there. She always struck conversations with him, chit chattering until his ears fell off. She had no problems with him bringing Pora into the establishment, seeing as she had a pet of her own.

The building was just out of reach of the sun, sheltered by the surrounding trees. Elevated wooden planks subsidized as floor leading into the front door, wide open to greet them. Purple and white flowers bloomed around the walls, bees stopping by now and then. Pora followed him mindlessly, taking in as much of the sight as they could. They saw the owner before she did, busy scribbling something down on a notepad.

„Hey, Cai!“ Mynci greeted, letting go of their hand to spread his arms towards her.

She jumped at the noise, cursing under her breath before burying herself in his arms.

„You need to stop doing that. Scared the shit out of me.“

„Not my problem. I'm here to take you up on that offer you gave me last time.“

Cai leaned her head past his chest, squinting her eyes at them. She nodded. „Brought your slave

They took a step forward sheepishly, unsure of what they were supposed to do. He chuckled, nodding enthusiastically.

„Mhm. I wasn't lying when I said that they're the most adorable slave I've seen.“

„Sure wasn't. And their name was? Pora?“

Pora nodded, hiding their hands in the long sleeves. They felt awfully exposed, being talked about as if they weren't there. She never fully acknowledged their existence, showing them to their table and handing Mynci a menu. They sat next to him, sneakily peeking over his shoulder to see the options. The letters all blurred together, not becoming any clearer despite their rapid blinking. Their heart sunk to their stomach as realization set in.

His hand tucked a bit of stray hair behind their ear, making them flinch. Their eyes met his, followed by a short kiss on their lips.

„I'll order for you, baby. Don't you worry about it,“ Mynci said, tapping his finger on their nose.

They knew better than to go against him, slowly nodding. He must've known they couldn't read anymore, that was probably his intention. The waiter walked over to their table almost immediately after he signaled for them. Pora didn't look their way, barely listening as he put in the order. The family sitting by the table next to them caught their attention, the way they laughed and talked together tied a knot in their stomach, a distant familiarity to the sight.

Mynci put his on theirs, giving it a squeeze. They turned back to him, hesitantly leaning on his shoulder. They forced their tensed muscles to relax, taking deep breaths. They stared at the decorative doll of a tiny ghost, casually sitting on top of their table. It seemed to be a having a great time doing nothing all day.

„Where do you want to go next?“

The question threw Pora off for a moment. He raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

„Um. I-I don't know.“

„That's alright, you can choose as we go. Decisions like that aren't made for slaves, so I see why you struggle.“

On cue, the waiter came back holding trays, filled with drinks and plates with food. They set it all down in front of them, Mynci thanking them politely. Pora's stomach twisted with hunger, mouth watering at the smell. He nodded at the slave, allowing them start eating. They wasted no time scarfing it all down, savoring every bite. They didn't recognize most of it, but they didn't care. Some of the drinks were bitter and stung the back of their throat, taking their mind off the situation. Giddy with joy, they couldn't stop smiling. It was the first time in forever they had a full stomach and a full meal. Mynci pressed a kiss to their cheek.

„Enjoying yourself, baby?“ he asked.

„Yes, sir.“

They couldn't contain their smile, the collar around their neck feeling as light as their head. He carded his fingers through their hair, leaning into the gentle touch. He ordered them a bowl of ice cream, covered with colorful sprinkles and whipped cream. They finished it all within minutes, quickly regretting it as their brain froze up from the cold. They whimpered pitifully, earning mock laughter from Mynci. They pouted, taking the hand he offered to walk them out the door.

Creaking floorboards turned to tiles, stepping outside. Everything was a lot calmer in the morning, giving them more place to walk at their own speed. Mynci got greeted by a lot of visitors and off duty employees, calling out to him or giving a wave. His tight grip on their hand didn't loosen, checking to make sure they were still there often. Pora remained busy watching the birds fly by or sit in their respective trees, singing their songs. The sunlight was a welcome change to them, being way too adjusted to the natural colored lights the circus tent provided when the sun was out.

Tiny stones crunched under their feet, disrupted by orange and red leafs. They stopped to pick up a small bug they found, hurriedly finding a bush to place it in. He smiled at them, eyes glistening with adoration. They hopped after him again, intertwining their fingers with his. The wind had a smell they couldn't quite place, but it was nice nonetheless.

„Can we try one of those arcade games?“ Pora stopped dead in their tracks, pointing at the building standing on the side.

„Of course, baby.“

It was a newer place set up recently, evident by the newer technology. He hadn't gotten around to personally welcoming the owner yet. Not that it mattered, he'd meet them soon enough. They entered the building, the whole place decorated festively with darker lights to fit the mood. The games shone brighter in the dark, standing out in contrast. The person at the reception greeted them wholeheartedly with a polite nod. Mynci got them tickets to play some of the games by themselves, trusting they wouldn't attempt to run while he made small talk with the owner.

Pora took the opportunity to take a go at one player games they distantly remembered being their favorite. It didn't take them long to get the gist of it again, as if they never stopped playing, The claw machines were the ones they struggled with the most, taking multiple tries before they got something. They excitedly grabbed the round plushie, representing a fake monster with a small head poking out above the dark gray fluff that made up its body. They continued playing more games with their new found friend in their arms, until they ran out of tickets and went to find Mynci.

He wasn't hard to spot, his green hair standing out from a distance. They hopped over to him, lightly tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. He turned to face them, raising an eyebrow.

„What is that you got?“ He asked.

„It-it's a plushie I won, from a, a game.“

Pora held it up to him to show it off, letting him feel it.

„It's nice,“ he said „Do you want to go?“

They nodded, following him back out the door as he said goodbye to the employee. The sun blinded them momentarily. More people slowly started to flow in to the park, noise getting louder with each person entering. They hovered close to him, keeping their eyes down. He steered them away from bigger crowds, nearing food vendors with all types of snacks. They perked up at the sight, silently pleading to go to one. He got the message and brought them to get crunchy waffles with sweet syrup in between. It was sweet and tasty, a light treat to end the day outside with.

He threw the last waffle piece in his mouth, crunching down on it. „Let's go back home, darling. I'll let you get some rest before the show.“

#whumpee #whump #captivity whump #slave whump #intimate whumper #non con kissing #comfort whump #implied starvation #tw food mention #clown whump

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thunderstormsandmagic · 3 years

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Caged Animal

“Hey, scum, get up,” a guard yelled as they banged their wand against the bars on the door of his cell. “Your presence is needed once again.” Draco Malfoy waited for the guard to walk away, and then slowly sat up from his cot. He wasn’t sure what day it was. Sometime in April or May? The year was 2003, he knew that for certain. He ran his hands over his face, getting ready for what would be another torturous day of life as Death Eater “scum”, as the guard had so eloquently said.

After Harry Potter had beaten Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, the Wizarding world had slowly started to go back to normal. All three members of the Malfoy family had gone back to Malfoy Manor, waiting for the inevitable day when they would be arrested. They all stayed in the same room, as they had when Draco had nightmares as a boy, having their house-elves deliver food and whatever else they needed to them. They never said much, just relished in the fact that for the first time in years, there was not a dark wizard sitting in their home and threatening their lives. Then one day, the Aurors came and all three were arrested. They went willingly, knowing it wasn’t worth putting up a fight. They were all placed in holding cells in Azkaban, himself and his mother in one, and his father in another. His father was quickly tried by the Wizengamot and found guilty, sentenced to life in prison. He passed away shortly after that, his body not being able to handle the poor conditions of Azkaban and knowing he would never see his wife and son again. When Draco and Narcissa were told the news, he held his mother as she cried, praying to Merlin that his mother did not receive the same fate as his father.

His mother’s trial had gone on longer than his father’s, not as clear cut of a case. Her sentencing had required all of the Malfoy vaults to be drained and the money “donated” to rebuilding Hogwarts. That only left his mother with her inheritance from the Black side of the family. Despite the fact that he was upset at her situation, he was eternally grateful that she avoided Azkaban. He had been told by the guards, taunted more like it, that the great Harry Potter had testified for his mother.

When it came time for his trial, he knew that there was no way he was going to leave Azkaban. His father had died and his mother had gotten away relatively unscathed. They had wanted to make an example out of his family and he was their last chance to do so. When he had been carted from Azkaban to the Ministry, he didn’t say anything. During his trial, he listened as the various members of the Wizengamot recited his war crimes, embellishing them to be more than they were, but he didn’t argue. He deserved everything that was coming to him. Bloody Harry Potter testified at his trial, just like he had done for his mother. But Hermione Granger also showed up and he couldn’t believe his eyes when her name was called and she went up to the witness stand. He was still in disbelief as he listened to her share her story of how he wouldn’t identify her and her friends when they had been brought to his home. He watched the way her right hand constantly grasped over her left forearm, knowing full well what was under there. He wanted to shout from his cage that she was wrong. Draco didn’t identify her or her friends because he was a good person. It was for his own selfish reasons. The Dark Lord was out of the house and he and his parents tried to enjoy any moment they could without him there. He just did not want him summoned back yet. He had only just left their home.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes, although he could feel her staring down at him in his cage. He just sat there for the rest of the trail, trying not to let the memory of her torture overwhelm him. Even though two-thirds of the Golden Trio had testified on his behalf, he was still sentenced to life in prison. Not only that, but any money that was his from the Malfoy or Black inheritance was to be “donated” to rebuilding causes from the war. “It’s not like he will be needing it in Azkaban,” he had heard one member of the Wizengamot mumble to another. And so, a week after he turned 18, Draco Malfoy had accepted his fate of life in prison, being someone who the Ministry locked up and forgot about. He had no wand, no magic, no money, and no one thinking of him except his mother.

However, the Ministry did not forget about him. Just about a week after he had been sentenced, a guard had banged on his cell, waking him up, and told him he was wanted at the Ministry. He had been thoroughly confused but was in no place to fight it, so he went. He had been led by two Aurors to an apparition site that went straight into the Ministry. When he arrived, he was placed in a holding cell. After waiting for a while, a member of the Wizengamot arrived and told him that he was here to testify against other Death Eaters. In return, he would receive some time off from his sentence in Azkaban. Draco wanted to scoff at the man, like time shaved off a life sentence would make a difference, but kept his mouth shut and nodded. He did as he was told, testified against Corban Yaxley, and was taken back to Azkaban. This would happen every few weeks, during the height of the Death Eater trials, and then it became every few months when there were fewer Death Eaters captured or the lesser-known ones that needed more preparation to face trial. Although testifying got him out of a cell for a few hours, he still hated going.

It seemed it would be another day of answering questions and doing what he was told. Another few years of his life sentence knocked off for testifying against a rogue Death Eater. “Yes, I do recognize him.” “Yes, he did sit around my dining room table with the Dark Lord at the head.” “Yes, I did watch him torture and kill innocent people.” All while she sat there and watched him testify. It wasn’t seeing his former “colleagues” that upset him about these trips, and it wasn’t that the guards treated him as if he was the dirt in the bottom of their dragon-hide boots. It also wasn’t that his nightmares were always worse on those nights because he had to relive the horrors of the accused. It was seeing her sitting in the stands, looking at him curiously. She was always there and he had no idea why. Maybe she got off on the fact that he was stuck in Azkaban for the rest of his life and came to see him locked in a cage like an animal. Maybe she was there to gloat, although neither of those reasons seemed like her. But then again, he didn’t really know her. He was just the boy who called her names at school. He was just the man who willingly took a mark that branded him as a villain for the rest of his life. He was just a man who couldn’t look her in the eye because he was too much of a coward. Perhaps she was able to sleep better at night knowing that the man whose home she had been tortured in was locked up for the rest of his life. He knew if the roles were reversed, that would make him feel safer.

Draco pulled himself together as best as he could and waited by the cell door for the guards to come back and get him. When they did, they gave him some stale bread and then led him down to the apparition point where they then took him to the Ministry. Draco knew the routine by now and just did what he was expected to do. After the guards locked him in the holding cell and left, he finally let out the breath he had been holding and sat down on the floor, facing the door so he could see if anyone came in. He leaned back against the metal bars of the cell, which was more like a cage than he cared to admit to himself. He took a piece of the stale bread and placed it into his mouth, trying not to eat it too fast.

He was halfway done with the bread when the door opened, and Draco stood up quickly, ready to be taken by a guard to the courtroom. Much to his surprise, it was not a guard who opened the door but Hermione Granger.

“Malfoy,” she said, watching him and waiting for him to do something. Draco nodded at her and responded with a “Granger.”

“I’m sure you are surprised to see me. You are not here to testify today. You are here because I need to talk to you,” she told him and he raised an eyebrow, curious. “First, would you like some tea? I brought some biscuits too.” He wanted to sob. He hadn’t had either tea or biscuits in years and the thought of eating something more than stale bread or cold soup was practically making him drool. But he couldn’t be weak in front of her, so he politely nodded, feigning disinterest.

“I know it isn’t much, but more than you would get in Azkaban. It’s nice to celebrate and I figured you hadn’t done so in years,” Granger said to him as she opened the tin of biscuits she had pulled out of a bag and held it out to him. He tried to think about what could be so important to celebrate, important enough that she would pull him out of Azkaban. She could see his puzzled expression so she clarified. “Today is your 23rd birthday.” His hand froze as he was reaching for a biscuit. His birthday? It was already June?

“You didn’t know,” Hermione said, having noticed his reaction. He slowly shook his head no, embarrassed that he did not know it was his birthday, and resumed picking out some biscuits from the tin, avoiding the fruity ones, and selecting the ones with chocolate. How was he supposed to keep track of time in Azkaban?

She summoned a chair from the other side of the room and sat down, pulling out a thermos full of tea and some mugs from her bag. She poured the tea and handed him a mug. “I apologize, I don’t know how you like your tea,” she told him.

“Not to worry,” he muttered, afraid that his voice would break if he spoke louder. He wrapped both hands around the mug and took a small sip. He hadn’t felt anything this warm in almost five years. He let out a shuddering breath and held the mug right under his face, letting the steam drift up and tickle him. He knew she was sitting and watching him, but he didn’t care. He had forgotten what anything other than cold felt like. He took another sip of the tea and felt the warmth move from his head, downwards as he swallowed and it settled into his stomach. He then held the mug in one hand and picked up one of the biscuits with the other. He took a small bite, worried that a big one would make him sick, and closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember a time when biscuits tasted so good. It was shortbread with a chocolate drizzle on top and he had to stop himself from shoving the couple he had grabbed into his face. After a few minutes of simply enjoying his birthday delights, he looked back up at her, ready for her to say what she needed to say.

“As you know, you have been testifying against Death Eaters for the past few years in exchange for time off your sentence to Azkaban. I have come to let you know that you will be free from that horrid prison in one week.” Draco was thankful he had not sipped the tea again because he would have surely spit it out.

“What?” he asked, not believing what she was saying. One week left? That would mean he would only have spent five years? There was no way the Wizengamot would let that slide.

“I have been working for the Wizengamot Administration Services in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I made it my job to get you to testify in as many trials as I could. I was able to get you into enough that you essentially have no time left. In fact, the Wizengamot should owe you, but I figured that battle wasn’t worth fighting. They didn’t realize how many testimonies you gave until I wrote up the paperwork, and trust me, they weren’t happy, but they couldn’t ignore it, so ta-da!” She looked very proud of herself for all she had done, but he wasn’t happy.

“Why? Why would you do that for some Death Eater scum?” he asked, frustrated. “You’ve certainly ruined your career, whatever it might have been. What about your friends? I’m sure Potter and Weasley were ecstatic to hear that you have gotten me out of Azkaban. I’m sure they believed I got what was coming to me. What will the world think when they find out their precious Golden Girl got a war criminal out of jail, Draco Malfoy no less? You are mad Granger!” He took the mug with tea and threw it out of the holding cell. He instantly regretted it, having wanted to finish the tea, but he was annoyed and this was the only way he could show it. The mug clamored to the ground by her feet but she left it there. She was shocked, and for a brief second, she let her surprise show. But then it was gone and was replaced with determination.

“I’m not another one of your pity projects,” he yelled at her. “You can’t win me over with tea and biscuits! I’m not a house-elf in need of freedom. I’m not some caged animal.” But the irony was not wasted on him as he leaned back and felt the cold metal bars press against his skin. He looked at her, trying to muster as much hatred as he could into his stare, but just didn’t have the energy to do so. The yelling and frustration had drained him and now he was trying to catch his breath. He realized it was no use fighting when he was malnourished. “I got what I deserved. I didn't ask for your sympathy,” he said to her, this time more quietly and looked down and away from her.

She walked up to the barred cage he was in and released an exhausted but annoyed sigh. “I have no sympathy for you. I do, however, have empathy. I know what it’s like to be treated as less than you are. Mudblood, remember?” She pointed to herself and he flinched when she said the word, and he knew she had seen him. “I am here because you do deserve better. You are a human being and you aren’t even being treated as such. Your trial was a show of political power and it wasn’t fair. There wasn’t enough evidence to support such a harsh sentence. They only did it to make an example out of you and that is not right. I will be getting you out of here next week, whether you like it or not. You deserve to see the sun again. You deserve to know it is your birthday and celebrate it. You deserve a well rounded meal. You deserve your magic back. You deserve to be reunited with your mother.” He continued to look at the ground, thinking he might actually cry if he looked at her and he would not cry in front of Hermione Granger. “You only have a week left, so stay alive and have hope. This time next week, I will be back, and you will be a free man.” She took a step back, away from the jail cell he was in, preparing to leave. She picked up the mug he threw and placed it and its counterpart back into her bag. She took the biscuit tin with her too. She made her way towards the door.

“Thank you Hermione,” he whispered, not sure if she could hear him. Her steps faltered a bit, but she continued to walk out, nodding to the guard who had slipped in when he heard yelling. The guard looked at Draco and left the room, leaving him alone to crumble to the floor and sob.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter #caged animal #forever my otp #im proud of this

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velvetthunder1999 · 4 years

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All the time on Earth

Part 35 - Strangers

Summary: After Fred’s death everything is dark. How can you move on when you don’t want to move on? And how can you love each other, when all love seems lost?

Warnings: Angst

Word count: 2K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

Like two strangers, you were lying on each side of the bed, your backs opposite each other. The clock on the wall said it was way past two in the morning. Still, you were not asleep. You were quiet, your breathing steady and slow, and you were staring into nothing, while George’s quiet sniffs came from behind you.

You’d moved back to the little flat above the shop three months ago, after spending one more month at the Burrow. It was still hard. Without Fred the rooms felt empty and deserted. The shop was open, sure; you knew George rather wanted it open so that he can do something… but it was not as charming, not as fun as it used to be. For the two of you, at least, it wasn’t.

The bed creaked on George’s side and he got up and left the room. You didn’t turn around; you knw either he was going to the bathroom to wash his face, drive his demons away, or headed for the kitchen to drink something that’d help him sleep. You waited for minutes but he didn’t return. Then there was a crash.

You got up and ran outside; the lights were on in the kitchen. You covered your eyes for they were hurt by the brightness and stepped in.

George was standing in the middle of the kitchen, frozen, his face emotionless and bland. He was staring at one spot on the ground, where the remains of a broken teapot lay. Around it was a small puddle of water, pieces of china all around the floor.

“Reparo,” you said. You dried up the water with another wave of your wand. You looked at George. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer. He turned away, lips pressed together and leaned onto the counter. After some hesitation you stepped closer. His shoulders were shaking, his head hanging low. You knew he was able to sob quietly, a talent which he had perfected during these past months. It came in handy when he wanted to hide his cries from you. It broke your heart.

“Love…” you said as gently as you could. You wished you could hug him. “Love, come back to…”

“Stop it, Y/N,” he said, a bit colder than you found necessary. You swallowed.

“Let me help you.”

“I cannot be helped,” he said, still not turning around. “Go back to bed.”

You stood there, choking up. He had been like this ever since you got back from the Burrow. Yes, he left the house every now and then, yes, he had reopened the shop, but he was not the same George anymore. He was barely eating, he was just staring at or playing with his food. He looked so pale and so sickly, that you were seriously concerned for his health at this point. There were times, when he was frozen in shock and in realization; then he would just stay still, staring into the void, completely forgetting about the world. Usually, he got three or four hours of sleep per night; he got to bed late and woke up early, desperately doing his best to avoid dreams, dreams which you knew were haunting him since they were all about Fred.

And the worst of it was that he didn’t want to be helped. He didn’t want to be comforted. When you tried to hug him he left, when you tried to dry up his tears he turned away. You knew you needed to give him space, and it was all right, but at the same time you felt lonely and depressed as well. He had promised that he’d be there for you, but he was distant and rejecting. You were like two strangers living together.

On those rare occasions when he had better days — when he put a lock of your hair behind your ear, or touched your shoulder as he passed behind you in the shop — you felt empty. You were missing that raw energy that he had always had, that special George Weasley-like liveliness… you wished he would pull you into his arms, or would fiercly grab you while making love… but in reality he barely touched you, and even if he did, his fingertips brushed against your skin and that was it. Nothing more. After two months of moving back, you had wanted him so much your body hurt… but when you kissed him, he had refused and told you to go back to bed.

Just like he did now.

——

George was bleeding; he had cut himself with the paper when he unwrapped the package that just had arrived. How ridiculous, he thought, as he watched the owl flying out the open window, and sucked on his finger in annoyance. When the bleeding stopped, he looked at the little wooden box his mother sent him and opened it up. It was full of old letters, pieces of paper and pictures. He closed the box immediately, turning it’s little lock. He had an idea what it was, but he simply did not have the strength to care about it in the moment.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, and you stepped in. George hid his hand with the cut finger in his pocket. He didn’t even know why.

“Someone is looking for those eatable ears,” you said, the buzzing of the jokeshop coming from behind you. “She doesn’t want to understand that we won’t have them until the end of the month.”

“Just… ask her if she wants to preorder now,” he said, barely paying attention.

“All right.”

You nodded and turned to leave, but George’s gaze fell upon the box on his desk.

“No, wait — Actually, could you take this up, please? Mum sent it. I’ll deal with those ears. Why don’t you… Go up. We’re closing in thirty minutes anyway.”

He gave you the box and you took it; he saw something in your eyes but you turned away quickly and closed the door behind you, leaving him alone in his office. He cleaned his throat, fighting that depressed feeling he felt every time he talked to you.

The truth was, he had opened the shop again, but only to have something to spend his days with. It did not cause him pleasure anymore, but it was rather painful to spend each day selling products that they made up with Fred, together. He did not feel enthusiastic walking along the shelves; he felt as if he was missing something, he felt as if a big part of him was left somewhere. Well, he had been feeling like this anyway, so at least he was making some money.

He also felt lost, but it was not because of Fred. It was because of you. When he looked at you during breakfast, or talking to a customer, he wondered if he’d see the spark in your eyes, the cheekiness he loved so much. He knew he was causing you pain, he knew you were crying every night… But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you about Fred. He couldn’t.

He was staring at the floor for minutes when he finally remembered that he was supposed to help someone. He left the office, immediately being surrounded by hundreds of people laughing and joking around amongst the shelves. He felt nauseos.

He wrote down the name of the customer, then he watched as the crowd slowly faded. Then he closed the doors, turned the lights and headed for the stairs, up to the flat. He fumbled with his keys, then stepped inside, and — carefully avoiding his reflection in the mirror — loosened his tie. When he turned around, that’s when he saw you sitting on the living room floor, sobbing.

His heart jumped in fear and he hurried over, scared, that something really serious was happening, that you were in pain, that someone might had hurt you… Then he saw the wooden box next to you, a bunch of photographs lying all over the floor. He lowered himself, feeling extremely anxious.

“Y/N?” he started uncertainly. “What happened?”

You shook your head and sobbed. George wished he could hug you. He wished he was able to.

“Y/N…” he said miserably. “Tell me…”

You reached for a photograph on the floor and shoved it in his hand. It was crumbled as if you had grabbed it too firmly. He looked at it and he felt his heart pounding painfully. He thought he’d have a heart attack.

It was the three of you — him, you and Fred, in the Burrow, standing in front of the Christmas tree, when you came back from Hogwarts in your last year. It was not moving, it was made using Mr Weasley’s muggle camera, but George could still see the happiness in his eyes. And Fred… He couldn’t look at Fred for long. He stared at himself instead, but it was like looking at a stranger. He was smiling, he looked well-fed and healthy, he even looked more mascular than he was now. He chuckled darkly — he still had two ears.

He turned over the picture and put it down. He sat down next to you, examining all the papers on the floor.

“Can I bring you something?” he asked lowly. “Tea?”

You shook your head. George swallowed.

“C-coffee, then?”

“Hold me,” you said suddenly, between sobs. “Please.”

How could he explain that he couldn’t? But you were already in his arms, and he held you so gently that he barely even touched your skin. He was sitting there with you for long minutes, thinking wether he knew what he was doing or was he just a coward…

“George?” you asked, wiping your face.

“Yes?” he said huskily.

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

He stared, taken aback and you pulled away from him, looking into his eyes.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, but he knew very well what you meant.

“Because I feel it,” you said. Your voice was really heavy. “I see it when I look at you. You… you haven’t kissed me in months. You wouldn’t even touch me… I feel so out of place, and I feel like I’m just some burden, some stranger who lives here.

“You’re not — no,” George felt his whole world shaking. How could he tell you, how could he make you understand? “I love you, Y/N! I do, I really do!”

“I’m not sure I can believe that anymore…”

George shook his head violently. How could he explain to you how he was feeling? How he was constantly wishing that he could rip out his heart to stop the pain? He didn’t even have to think about Fred to be hurt, the feeling was just there, all the time, during the day, but also during the night as well. He had nightmares, visions about the battle, but sometimes it was not Fred who lay on the floor, but his mum… Ginny… you.

He hadn’t been home for a month, he just could not bare to look them in the eye. But here was different. You were with him in the shop, in the flat, in the bed… And George somehow felt that if he kept his mind off you, the nightmares would not come so often. He felt that when you kissed him, he slept worse, fighting the sick feeling in his stomach that was telling him that he’d lose you as well, that if he loved you carelessly and freely a moment would come and take you away from him as well.

But he couldn’t tell you that. You’d not understand. You’d tell him that the war was over and that you were safe now… And George didn’t want to be reassured, because he didn’t believe that everything was fine now, he didn’t believe that life was safe and sound when he was already missing the biggest part of his life… So this is why he let his head hang low at the dinner table, this is why he went form kisses to hugs, from hugs to shoulder brushes, and this is why he told you to stop when you wanted to make love to him, during those quiet nights in late August…

He realized he had zoned out again. It had been really hard for him to concentrate on anything, really. But your quiet crying brought him back to reality. No matter how hard he tried to stay away from you… he still loved you. And he hated himself for causing you pain.

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gaemkyuu · 3 years

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Of Kings & Queens (Part 6)

Warnings: none! A/N: Coronation day! I’m really thinking of adding one last chapter with a baby or pregnancy, but I’m not sure if I should just leave it as is... let me know your thoughts! AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

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

In the urgency to have Charlie become King and Olivia become queen, the Northern Kingdom and the Western Kingdom decided that it would be for the best if the coronation day for Prince Charlie was combined with their wedding. It was also decided early on that Olivia and Charlie would have little to no say in what went into their special day. The only saving grace they had was Savannah who knew her best friend enough to object to certain décor or wedding dress designs, but the poor girl was swamped with wedding planning and tasks around the palace. After all, the Royal families had decided that the wedding should happen within a month’s time. The two of them felt more and more anxious as the days drew nearer.

Charlie was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the constant stream of information being thrown at him about the Western Kingdom. He knew that trade and commerce with resources would be different, but he didn’t anticipate learning about the history of the Kingdom and the inner workings of its economy. Charlie figured he could learn about the Kingdom as he got his hands involved, like learning on the go. He didn’t expect the increased amount of meetings and gatherings of the Royal Council, which took away from his time sneaking around with Olivia.

Olivia on the other hand became increasingly frustrated with the extra court classes that her mother felt obliged to teach her. Every day she spent 6 hours with her mother being lectured about the duties of a Queen and what makes a good Queen. She also had to sit into more events with Ladies of the court and was constantly scrutinized on how she looked, behaved and presented herself. It was exhausting and Olivia felt increasingly annoyed with how she wasn’t allowed to be herself. It didn’t help that the only times she saw Charlie was when she passed him in the hall. He would exchange an apologetic smile and wave, which she would reciprocate, but the both of them knew how much this whole ordeal was getting to them.

The night before their wedding should’ve been filled with excitement and anticipation before the celebration. She had dismissed Savannah for the evening, much to her best friend’s reluctance. Savannah knew something was going on and she was growing increasingly concerned that Olivia was clamming up more than usual. However, Olivia knew Savannah was under a lot of stress preparing for the wedding and felt guilty about venting to her friend. Instead, she thought it would be beneficial for Savannah to get an early night and a little time to relax to herself. The only reason Savannah agreed was that Charlie caught her in the hall earlier and asked that she sneak him a small picnic basket of treats that they could enjoy together that evening. She didn’t ask any questions, but she also knew that Olivia would appreciate the gesture, and so she left a small picnic basket tucked away on her balcony.

However, Olivia sat quietly in her room crying on her bed, confused, lost and overwhelmed. The extra time spent with her mother made her question herself and made her feel insecure about herself. She started to feel unprepared every time her mother corrected her and started to question her worthiness as Queen. She hated the fact that her mother spent 6 hours every day for the past month grooming her to be a pretty wife that stood silently and poised beside her King, encouraging and agreeing to his every word. Her mother often reminded her that she needed to know her place and although she admired her strong willed nature, it was something that she needed to control as Queens are strong but also submissive.

“Liv? What’s wrong?” she jumped at the voice and snapped her head in the direction of the voice. There stood a tired looking Charlie with a picnic basket with a concerned look on his face. He moved over to sit beside her on the bed, placing the basket of treats on the nightstand, quickly wrapping his arms around her. Olivia melted into the hug and the small stream of tears became a steady river, flowing down her face. She sniffled and bit her lips as she didn’t want anyone to hear her breaking down. Charlie rubbed soft circles on her back with one hand and held her head to his shoulder with the other. “It’s okay Liv, take a deep breath and just let it out”

“I’m sorry Charlie” she sobbed quietly into his shoulder, hugging him tighter. She loved Charlie with her whole heart, and there was no denying that. However, the lack of control she had on her life was frightening and intrusive. She felt the suffocating feeling that night in the garden slowly creep up on her, but having Charlie there helped keep her at bay. “I love you”

“I love you too Olivia. You’re okay... It’s all going to be okay...” Olivia continued to cry into her love’s shoulder and eventually she found herself calming down, but the sadness remained. She pulled away from Charlie and moved to her vanity to grab a handkerchief to wipe away the smudges of make up on her face. She gripped onto the edges of the vanity and took a deep breath, straightening her spine. She was trying to compose herself and convince herself that everything was fine and that she was overreacting, but as Charlie wrapped his arms around her from behind, she melted into his touch. He turned her around and hugged her once more and Olivia was grateful for it. She didn’t realize how badly she needed a physical connection with Charlie. To her surprise, he picked her up bridal style, but she fought him to be put down. “Would you please let me practice for tomorrow?”

She gave him a small laugh and complied with his request. It amazed her that despite everything going on Charlie was still able to make her laugh or smile. Carrying her over to the bed, he laid her down gently and joined her on the other side of the bed. Instinctively, she cuddled into him, lying her head on his chest, something that Charlie greatly appreciated. The two lay there in silence as Olivia drew soft absentminded shapes on his chest and Charlie played with her hair.

“What’s in the basket?” she felt Charlie’s chest shake slightly as he chuckled and moved to sit up against her head board and pillow. She followed his actions and sat up as well as Charlie placed the basket in between them. He motioned for her to open in it, and she curiously did, smiling at what she saw inside. “You brought these for me?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to spend much time with you and we’ve both been under a lot of stress. So I had Savannah pull some strings and put this together for us to eat out feelings out tonight” he smiled and pulled out a strawberry pastry, taking a bite and rolling his eyes at how delicious it was.

“I guess I can have one. I have to watch my figure so I don’t look fat in my wedding dress tomorrow” Olivia thought she meant it in a joking manner, but it came out a little bitter to which Charlie frowned at her in concern and put his treat down.

“Liv, what’s going on? You’ve never been ashamed at your appetite or conscious about your body” she sighed as she pulled out a pastry and quietly chewed on it, contemplating how much she wanted to tell him. “Olivia Grace, don’t try to hide a single thing because you know I can tell when you’re hiding something”

“I don’t know... I’m just feeling so lost and confused. Spending all that extra time in court classes with my mom has been getting to me... I feel like I’m losing who I am in the midst of being this perfect Queen that the nation needs, while also realizing this is not the way I want to help the nation. I don’t doubt you as a King, but I feel like I’m having to choose between you or something that I’ve been working my whole life for?” Charlie sat patiently letting Olivia express herself, knowing that she rarely got the occasion to. “You’re going to make an amazing king, I don’t doubt that... but how do you just let everything that you’ve been working towards go? Especially when you’re being asked to forget about something you’re passionate about?”

“You know I won’t dismiss you, right? Your word is equally weighted in my eyes” Olivia sighed deeply and Charlie knew there was very little that he could contribute to the situation.

“I know that, but I don’t get to be in the room to make crucial decisions with you... you’ll make them on your own and you’ll do the best that you can. But the problem is there are people who could offer better insight to the situation” a brief moment of hurt crossed Charlie’s features and she immediately regretted voicing that out loud. Day in and out, Charlie was proving to be an amazing King, with wisdom beyond his years. This was another thing that Olivia admired. Despite the chaos and fun loving side of Charlie, there was a man who was ready to lead a nation in a moment’s notice, regardless of how he felt.

“Is this what it’s about? The recognition?” her eyes widened and realized that she had to clarify what she meant before things were misconstrued.

“No! I couldn’t care less if they only wrote your name in history as King!” Charlie still looked apprehensive and unsure. “I just don’t want history to mention me as they’ve mentioned the Queens before us. In everything that I read, they are portrayed only for their beauty as an accessory to the King, but never for what they’ve done. We are going to have kids one day and I want my daughter to believe that she could do so much more than being pretty and submissive. I want our kids to believe that anything is possible if they work hard for it” he perked up at the last part of her explanation.

“You want to have kids?” she scoffed at his response, knowing she should’ve expected that part to be his biggest take away.

“Yes, but not the point Charlie. I thought that Kings and Queens made things possible for the Kingdom, when in reality we follow tradition that no longer makes sense to our society!” Charlie held her hand as she sighed, frustrated.

“Things are a little backwards aren’t they?” Olivia nodded and the two of them sat there in silence. The reality of their situation sank in deeper and the discontentment Olivia felt grew stronger. She looked to her husband to be for assurance, but noticed just how deep the bags under his eyes had been and how sullen he looked.

“I’m sorry... I’m being completely insensitive to how this is affecting you... have you been alright?” Charlie cleared his throat and straightened up, thinking carefully about what he wanted to talk about.

“I’ve been in meetings all day trying to decide what my first decree as king would be”

“And?”

“I have no idea... Pat said to pick something that would profit the economy between the Kingdoms, but the King said that we need to start exploring foreign trade. Meanwhile, the Viziers have been voicing out the concerns of the people, all the while I’m trying to take your advice of picking something simple because I’m going to stick with it for a while and... it’s just... it’s a mess” Olivia moved closer to Charlie as he stuttered through his frustrations. She moved his head to rest on her shoulder and played with his hair.

“You’re going to make an amazing King. I know that may not mean much right now, but there is no one else who I’d rather take my place other than you” Charlie smiled up at her and kissed the shoulder he leaned on. Regardless of what his decree would be, all of the other three Kingdoms would have to accept it the day of the Coronation when it is announced. Rarely ever was a decree never agreed upon, as it was the duty of the next King to let the other Kings know in advance as to what he would be deciding.

“I just wished the roles were reversed, y’know? I wouldn’t mind standing there and looking pretty!” he smiled as a genuine laugh came from Olivia as it sounded like a beautiful melody to his ears. It had been rare to hear such laughter come from her as of late and he made the mental note to make sure she laughed more often with him. “Listen, I know this isn’t panning out the way we wanted it to, but I hope you understand how much I love you Liv. I really mean it”

“I know. I love you more” she kissed the top of his head before he moved to sit beside her and yawn. “I really appreciate this cute little picnic you set up for us” he opened his mouth to respond, but another yawn made its way out. “But seeing as tomorrow is a big day and we are both exhausted, what say you we put these pastries away and settle into bed?”

“Feeling frisky are we?” Charlie smirked at the flushed Princess before him as she realized how her proposition could’ve been taken. “Relax, I got what you meant, I’m just teasing you. I just didn’t think you’d blush that deeply at the mention of sex” his eyes grew the size of saucers as her face deepened its shade, cluing in to her embarrassment. “You haven’t had sex before, have you?”

Olivia stuttered to get out her response, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden announcement of her virginity in the conversation. It wasn’t customary for Princesses to spend time with any male unless it was an authoritative person, family or a potential suitor. Even then, there would always be a chaperone, which was usually Savannah. Olivia knew about sex, but a conversation such as this had never come up in the time that they had been together. She didn’t realize that she was still stuttering to explain herself until Charlie silenced her with a kiss.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about Liv” he winked, pecking her lips once more. “Does that mean I get to be your first everything?” She nodded and hid her face in his neck, still embarrassed at the situation. Charlie took this as a cue to lie down in her bed, reaching for the sheets as he slid them down. The couple laid in silence for the majority of the evening, Olivia drawing patterns on his chest after he unbuttoned it and Charlie playing with her hair while rubbing soft circles on her back. Eventually, Olivia fell asleep on his chest and he stealthily tried to get away without waking her up, but stopped when she grabbed his wrist. “Liv if they find us together in the morning, you know we won’t hear the end of it”

“Please... I just...” Charlie couldn’t say no to her, mostly because he knew the feeling. It was that same feeling he felt every late night that he stayed up to study more about the Western Kingdom and he was lost, overwhelmed and tired, wishing Olivia could just hold him to ease the emotions he was feeling.

“Fine... move over” she smiled appreciatively and moved over more on the bed, turning to face the other side so that Charlie could cuddle her from behind. “Just don’t complain if you wake up and I have all the covers” Olivia laughed and playfully hit him with a pillow. Charlie pulled her closer and snuggled his face into her neck, which caused her to giggle a bit. Olivia felt herself drifting as Charlie gave her neck soft kissed and hummed a melody that lulled her to sleep.

“Everything is going to be okay Liv. I promise”

***

The rest they received that night was much needed and both would say it was the best sleep they’ve had in a long time! However, the next morning Savannah entered to wake Olivia up only to shriek in surprise as Charlie was in bed. Immediately, the two jumped out of bed and Savannah rushed to the door. Hearing Savannah’s shriek sent guards her way and she explained that she had walked in on the Princess changing and waved them off. As Savannah entered the room, she chastised the both of them that they were lucky she had come alone this morning. After giving them a moment to say goodbye, Charlie exited through the balcony and Savannah began by shoving Olivia to the nearest bath to get her washed up.

Olivia didn’t have a moment to think about how she was feeling as it was one thing after another. Savannah ran a tight ship today and there was no chance that Olivia could ask for a break until Savannah got through her entire todo list. She winced as Savannah pulled her hair back and fastened it in the bun at the top of her head. People were constantly in and out of her bedroom asking Savannah questions about the wedding and coronation. Olivia was given bread, cheese and fruit to snack on before the Coronation and wedding, which she was thankful for, but she didn’t enjoy too much with the chaos going on before her.

Savannah finished up her hair and make up, then proceeded to get her into her wedding dress. This would be the first time anyone saw the dress, including Olivia. She trusted her best friend with her life, but she felt a little nervous. Upon seeing the dress, she instantly regretted any doubt she had for Savannah because the dress was perfect. Her dress was anything but the disastrous ball gown pastry dress her mother had recommended.

“Shall we?” her best friend smiled and Olivia nodded, feeling excitement.

Olivia’s wedding dress was a column dress that was off the shoulder adorned with iridescent pearl lace and a court train that began at her sleeves, mimicking the image of a cape. It was off-white and form fitting, something that no Princess or Queen in history had ever worn on their Coronation or Wedding day. Savannah zipped up her dress and helped Olivia into her custom made off-white silk high heels with gold vinery climbing up the back. She stood tall and felt beautiful as she stared at her appearance in the mirror. Savannah came from behind and hugged her best friend, chin resting on her shoulder and staring back at her reflection.

“You are going to be an amazing Queen Olivia. Forget anything your mother taught you and just be you. The people already love you, so why change?” a happy tear slid down Olivia’s face in appreciation at the kind words from her best friend. “Stop! If you cry, I’ll cry! I also just did your make up!” the girls shared a laugh and Savannah asked another servant to grab the King to help with the veil.

As her father walked into her room, his eyes instantly filled with tears and he was grateful that Savannah was there to help him place her tiara and cathedral weil on her. No words were exchanged between the two of them, just smiles and silent conversations with their eyes. With a last look at the mirror, Olivia took her father’s arm in hers and they walked to the Throne room where all the guests awaited. The walk to the throne room felt long and Olivia wishes it went by faster because then she wouldn’t have had a moment to think about what she was feeling. The closer they drew, the more confused Olivia became. She was excited to marry Charlie, but she wasn’t extremely thrilled to give up everything she worked for. She was thrilled that the Kingdom would have Charlie to lead them, but she wasn’t excited at the idea of being a trophy wife from here on out.

Her father cleared his throat and Olivia realized they were at the doors to the throne room. At his signal, her life would never be the same, and a wave of nausea washed over her, her hands trembling suddenly. She took a deep breath and swallowed, in fear she might vomit, but her father let go of her arm and turned to face her, holding both of her hands in his.

“I haven’t had a moment with you like this since you were a child.” tears welled up in her father’s eyes. “Now here you are, a beautiful young woman becoming a wife and a Queen” he sniffled as a tear escaped and he wiped it with the back of his hand, never letting hers go. “Olivia, I’ve known since you were a baby that you would someday become one of the greatest Queens this Kingdom has ever known. I still believe that my dear.”

Olivia started to feel a little emotional as her father lowered his defenses around her. “I know that you have dreamed your whole life to one day relieve me of my duties. I’ve learned a lot about myself as a King and father watching you grow up and listening to your observations about this Kingdom. In time my dear, you will change this Kingdom for the better” Olivia let a tear slide down her face at her father’s words but it was quickly wiped away by him.

“I will always be your little Princess” she smiled and the King sniffled. The servant apologetically interrupted their moment preparing for them to open the door as the muffled sounds of the orchestra penetrated the thick doors. With a kiss on the cheek, a nod from the King, they linked arms again and prepared to walk down the aisle together.

Olivia will forever remember that moment when the doors opened and she saw Charlie at the throne. Watching his face go from shock, to amazement, to excitement, to happiness was such a joy to watch. She could only see him and he could only see her. Regardless of what the future held, Olivia had one certainty. She would never regret the decisions she made that led her to Charlie. As she walked with her father to join Charlie at the throne, the smile on his face was the biggest she had ever seen on him, and as the music slowly came to an end as they arrived in front of him, the smile remained.

“How you doin’?” he whispered, winking at her. They heard King Patrick clear his throat but couldn’t care less.

“To you Prince Charles, I pass my daughter, Princess Olivia Grace, to you. May you fill her life with peace, joy, happiness and prosperity” the King placed Olivia’s hand in Charlie’s, hesitating a moment to pull away. “Take care of my Princess” he whispered looking Charlie sincerely in the eyes.

“I promise” he whispered back and the King let go, joining his wife to the side.

The Royal Wedding proceeded exactly the way it should have. The religious passages and oaths were sworn, along with the traditions of the Western and Northern Kingdom, and soon the two were pronounced husband and wife, in which they turned around to face their guests for the first time. Olivia noticed King Jeremy and Queen Carolynn smiling in the front row on the right side, their parents seated behind them, while on the left side Prince Owen and Prince Hayden sat next to the King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom. To her immediate right sat the Royal Family of the Northern Kingdom and her own mother and father to her immediate right. All of the important families, gathered in one location for this momentous occasion.

The trumpets sounded signifying the time for the Coronation and the newlyweds knelt before the King and Queen as they assumed their positions. The happiness of their matrimony started to fade as the Queen began to speak to the people informing them of what makes a good Queen. As the Queen spoke, the words settled in Olivia’s mind and she felt herself slowly becoming less happy, something in which Charlie noticed out of the corner of his eyes. He squeezed her hand tightly in reassurance, but it didn’t seem to help.

“I present to you, Queen Olivia Grace Gillespie” her mother announced as she replaced her tiara with a crown and the crowd erupted in applause. Olivia stood and curtsied to the Queen, then curtsying to the crowd. Owen clapped particularly loud and looked quite smug, something that Olivia caught. She watched him exchange a look with King Jeremy who smiled back at him, equally smug. Charlie’s whisper of her name snapped her out of her thoughts and she knelt back down beside him. The King immediately started his speech about passing the crown to Charlie and the responsibilities he would assume in his stead. Olivia saw him grow increasingly anxious as the King spoke, and she tried to comfort him the way he comforted her, especially when he started becoming fidgety.

“I present to you, King Charles Jeffrey Gillespie, the new King of the Western Kingdom” Olivia watched as Charlie was crowned and stood before her Kingdom who applauded him. He bowed to the King, who whispered something in his ear and all tension and anxiety left Charlie in an instant. The former Queen and new Queen looked at the two in confusion as Charlie turned around to bow at the distinguished guests, and then motioned to Olivia to stand with him for the final announcement. “Presenting the King and Queen of the Western Kingdom!” Everyone stood in applause and the people outside the castle could also be heard as someone announced the end to the official Coronation. After a few moments of applause, Charlie silenced the room with a motion of his hand and everyone took their seats.

“As your new King and a foreigner to this Kingdom, I have thought greatly upon what my first decree as your King would be. I have received a number of suggestions and requests from several honored and distinguished members of your Kingdom. Ultimately, I have decided on one.” Charlie paused, clearing his throat, leaving the crowd waiting in anticipation. “In the time that I have got to understand your Kingdom, I have noticed that the Kings of your past have brought prosperity to the Kingdom. In speaking with your people, I have learned that your Queens have done a great deal as well, but have only been known as the support to the King. We currently live in a time in which traditions in our past no longer support the needs of our future” Olivia looked at him in confusion, realizing that he was quoting her words from last night.

“In order to move forward as a Kingdom, with the interest of prosperity for the people and the nation, I believe that there are some changes we as a nation need to resolve.” Olivia followed Charlie’s gaze to Jeremy and Carolynn who smiled and nodded in agreeance, then to Owen who shared a look with his father, then to the Southern King who nodded in affirmation as well.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” she whispered curtly, looking at her husband. He smiled back at her and took a deep breath.

“My first decree as King of the Western Kingdom is to urge the Nation to agree that Queens shall join the Royal Council and their word should hold equal value to that of their King”

Olivia's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as she listened to Charlie’s first decree as King. Gasps filled the room and so did quiet whispers of chatter amongst the guests. Never had there ever been a decree that challenged their Nations traditions before! A tense and uncomfortable moment hung in the air as Charlie awaited to hear the responses from the other Kingdoms.

Jeremy and Carolynn were the first to stand and speak. “As King and Queen of the Eastern Kingdom, we accept your decree.” They bowed and applauded the new King.

The King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom were next to speak. “As King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause increased. Charlie looked to his brother and family, who were shocked at the words that left his mouth. Olivia must have thought that Charlie had already chosen his decree and voiced it out to both families, which meant that this came as a total shock. She looked at her father who smiled proudly, but her mother seemed equally off guard. The look of confidence on Charlie’s face faltered as no one stood immediately from his family. His brother stood slowly with his wife and cleared his throat. If King Patrick didn’t accept the decree, then Charlie would have to think of a new one, something Olivia hoped deep down would not happen.

“As King and Queen of the Northern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause was deafening and the people celebrated the new decree. Granted there were people in the crowd, like the Viziers who were tremendously confused and her mother who was speechless, but there were also people like Savannah and her father who enthusiastically applauded the choice to break tradition for the better. As the roar of the orchestra commenced, Charlie took Olivia’s hand and walked down the aisle, Savannah following and fixing her train as they walked out of the throne room and to the parlor to get ready for the next part of the occasion. Thankfully, they got to the parlor quickly without anyone stopping them and as soon as the door shut, they kissed each other deeply.

“Did that actually happen?” Olivia breathed as they broke the kiss. Still, Charlie held her close, his forehead resting on hers.

“You and all the Queens that come after you will now be a part of the Royal Council. I told you, everything is going to be okay” happy tears filled her eyes as Charlie held her, smiling. She was preparing herself to never have a say for the rest of her life, but now she got to start fresh with a husband and King that not only loved her, but one that appreciated and valued her.

THE END

A/N: Thoughts?! If I were to add one last chapter to this series, what would you want to see?

tag list: @ifilwtmfc @warmness0ul @starjane312

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