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tsumuswifey · 1 year

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shinso x reader

felt like writing angst today💅🏻🧚🏻‍♀️ chill anyways..warnings: ptsd, crying, overall sadness, anxiety, mentions of death (not reader or shinso). hurt/comfort<3 ps, listen to in my room by chance peña while reading, bc that’s what i listened to while writing lmao.

A Friday night in early January finds you standing on the edge of the sidewalk, one foot already in the street as you await the go-ahead from the crosswalk. Across the street, the sign on Mei’s Flower’s blinks lazily, proclaiming that the shop is still open. You sigh, tilting your head back just far enough to see that the crosswalk sign has yet to change.

Shifting from one foot to the other, you adjust the straps of your backpack, and then adjust them again. You blow out a breath, watching as the warmth catches against the cold and creates a small cloud.

You check the time again, worrying your bottom lip when you see what time it is. You were supposed to be at your therapy appointment ten minutes ago, but it seems like everything that could’ve went wrong, went wrong. You consider ditching your appointment, readying yourself to turn around and walk yourself back to the dorms..but then you blink and you see her.

As if your anxiety about opening yourself up to someone that was practically a complete stranger wasn’t enough, a car blows by at an alarming speed, revving so loud that it sent vibrations dancing in the pavement beneath your feet. You yelp, taking multiple steps back.

By the time you make it to your appointment, your shaking like a leaf, and are on the verge of tears.

“Sorry ‘m late,” You apologize quietly to the doctor, finding your seat across from her in the comfortable arm chair.

“That’s alright, Y/n,” She says, small smile softening her sharp features.

There’s a beat of silence, one that has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“So,” She begins, “Tell me about your best friend.”

You’re sure that her asking that was only an icebreaker, but it makes you wince. She tilts her head, pen insistently tapping against her notepad. You stare back at her owlishly, wracking your brain for an appropriate answer.

When you come up with one, nothing comes out. Because despite the amount of time that has gone by since the war ended..you’ve never spoken it out loud. Have never allowed yourself to, because then it would be much too real.

“She’s dead.” You settle on.

When you say it, you mean to say it curtly. Your voice betrays you, however, wobbling as if it were a newborn foal. The doctor tries to school her features, but you see the way her eyes widen when you say it.

“She died in the war,” You explain softly, “Right in front of me.”

The doctor takes a deep breath, and nods. “Would you like to expand on that?”

You shake your head, but your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because your mouth opens and you practically word vomit everything to the older woman.

Kimiko was as selfless as any person came. If anyone was destined to be a hero, it was her, and you knew that in the depths of your soul. It was strange, you think, how she seemed to know what her fate was. In the dark of the night, laying side by side, you’d talk about the future with her, dreaming up names for the agency you’d one day co-own with your best friend. She’d always reply with, We’ll see, Y/n. You never know what the future holds.

Maybe you should’ve listened. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so tired all of the time. Because lately, that’s all you seemed to be able to feel. Even still, sleep evaded you most nights, when the flashes of blood and Kimiko’s mangled body shone in the darkness of your eyelids.

“She took a blast for me,” You whisper, “He-“

You can’t even bring yourself to say his name. Just the thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, and you blink rapidly, trying with all your might to rid the tears from your lash line.

“Sorry, um, he was trying to attack me and I shut my eyes because I thought that was it. I thought, you know, well, shit, I’m going to die. And I accepted it, you know? But then I never felt the pain, never felt his quirk hit me..and I thought maybe it happened so fast that I died peacefully but when I opened my eyes Kimiko was there. And I thought she was alive,” You trail off for a moment, words caught in your throat from reliving the hardest moment of your short life.

“Kimiko,” You breathed, “Shit, ‘Ko, you’re bleeding.”

Rushing to her side, you kneel down against the asphalt, wincing when it digs into your knees painfully. You reach for her hand, trying to do anything in the moment to comfort her. You squeeze it once, then twice, and then a third time.

“Kimiko?”

You cock your head in confusion, “Kimiko, come on. This isn’t funny.”

Someone falls in behind you, laying a palm against your right shoulder. “Y/n,” They say, “It’s too dangerous for you to be sitting like this out in the open.”

You disregard them, scooting closer to your friend. “Kimiko, we still need to fight. Seriously, we’re nearly finished. It’ll be okay soon. Just get up and help a little longer and then you can rest, alright?”

“Y/n,” The person says more sternly. Todoroki, you think? You’re not sure. You can’t be sure of anything.

“Please!” You cry out, anguished sob tearing from your throat because she’s not moving. She’s not moving.

You stare at your shoes as you explain what happened to the doctor, hyper-focusing on the scuff etched into the rubber toe of your converse. You’d gotten it when Kimiko was trying to teach you to skateboard.

Funny, how something so small can mean so much.

With you arms crossed over your chest, as if it could protect you from her stare, from her looking into the depths of your soul, you look up, gauging the doctors reaction.

“Y/n. You have been through something extremely traumatic,” and you’re not sure why, but the way she says it, the way she takes her glasses off and looks at you so gently-it makes you nauseated.

“I’m fine, I’m just, I just miss her. That’s all. I’ll be fine, though.”

She sighs, “I think you believe that. But-“

You swallow deeply, trying to rid yourself of the nausea. “Can I go?”

She nods solemnly, crossing her legs. “I wouldn’t keep you here against your will. But I think you’d really benefit from coming back. So consider that, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Your mind is in a haze the whole walk back to the dorms. Saying it out loud..it did exactly what you didn’t want it to do. It made it feel real. A part of you feels awful for leaving like that, but you couldn’t do it anymore.

The warm air is stifling when you slip through the double doors of the dorms, trapping you in a sense of discomfort. You allow your backpack to thunk against the ground when it slips off your shoulders, catching the attention of your classmates.

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Denki greets loudly. Normally you’d greet him back with the same excitement, but you’re not sure you can feel anything besides heavy. Everything is heavy. And you want the floor to swallow you whole, praying in your mind that it would just open up and let you fall through if only that meant you could get some relief from this horrible pain in your heart.

You halfheartedly wave at whomever is in the living room area, eyes glued to the elevator as you step past the kitchen. You press the button, and lean up against the wall, shutting your eyes for a moment while you wait for the familiar ding of its arrival. When it doesn’t come, you open your eyes, and glare at it, as if that would make it come any quicker.

“Damn it,” You mutter, slamming your palm against the button.

When it doesn’t do anything still, you break.

You don’t have the emotional capacity to feel embarrassed when you sink to the floor, face scrunched up as hot tears spill from your eyes. You land against the carpeting, chest heaving when you try to catch your breath.

“Honey,” Mina calls from somewhere behind you. You hear her fuzzy sock clad feet patter across the hall to you, and then her arms are circling around your shoulders, and it takes everything in you to not allow yourself to meld yourself against her.

“Hitoshi,” You mumble, choking on a sob.

“Hm?” Mina brushes a strand of wet hair from your cheek, tone soft.

“Can you get him for me, please? I want Shinso.”

You’re not sure how much time passes before you see the flash of violet hair, broad shoulders blocking your view of everyone.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, shooing everyone away so you can be alone with him. You shake your head, and move into his arms, pressing your face against his chest.

“I’m tired, ‘Toshi. I’m so sleepy. Please.”

He circles an arm around your shoulders, thumb rubbing against your shoulder blade. “I’ll walk you up to your room. C’mon.”

“No, no, no. I can’t sleep,” You cry, fisting his hoodie in your hands. “I see her when I close my eyes and I can’t sleep and it hurts so bad-“

He doesn’t seem to mind the lack of privacy as he scoops you into his arms with ease, hip checking the elevator button so he doesn’t have to let go of you. The walk to your room is quiet, silent tears spilling from you eyes. You could cry an ocean, you think, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Moonlight streams in through the floor to ceiling windows, casting brilliant beams of light across everything. You briefly wonder if Kimiko can see the moon where she’s at. You hope she can.

“Want me to stay with you for a bit?” Hitoshi asks, baritone voice echoing through the empty hall. You nod against his shoulder, too tired to verbally answer him. He unlatches your door, and steps through with you still in his arms. Your room is disheveled, empty bottles strewn about the room, homework papers piled up precariously on your desk.

“Sorry for the mess,” You whisper.

“Hush.” Is Hitoshi’s response. He sets you down on your bed before rifling through your dresser for something cozy to wear. He helps you get changed, violet eyes staring into yours until you’re fully dressed.

You snuggle into your comforter, trying to get as comfortable as possible.

“Can you help me sleep?”

Hitoshi bites the inside of his cheek, looking deep in thought. “I don’t know if I feel good about using my quirk on you, sweetheart.”

“Please,” You ask, voice cracking, “Please, ‘Toshi. I haven’t slept in so long.”

He nods once, before laying down beside you. He reaches a hand out, stroking your cheekbone with his knuckles when he looks you in the eyes. “You’re sure, baby?”

“Please.”

He takes a deep breath, and pulls you into his arms. Cradling you to his chest, he commands, “Go to sleep. You deserve the rest.”

The last thing you recall before sleep claims you, is the feeling of him kissing the top of your head.

A dreamless sleep is what you get, and when you awake, it’s ten in the morning. You open your eyes to find Hitoshi beside you on his back, deep in thought as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Hitoshi,” You greet, joy evident in your voice. “I haven’t slept that well in so long.”

His lips quirk up. “Good. I’m glad, sweetheart.” He turns on his side to face you, handsome smile greeting you. He opens his arms up for you, and you snuggle in close, pressing yourself as close to him as you can.

“Thank you for doing that for me.”

“You’re welcome, Y/n. You know I’d do whatever I could to help you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree, thanking Kimiko in your mind for sending you someone to help you get through this.

Once again I rlly don’t like this lmao. Idk if I’m just self deprecating or if I just rlly don’t like my own writing but maybe that’s the same thing. Anyway! Thanks for reading. Mwuah!

#mha #myheroacademia #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso imagine #bnha shinsou #shinso x reader #bnha #bnha angst #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #shinso hitoshi x reader

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axagar · 1 year

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the person who is my best friend and was fp has her bff already so i will always be on the back burner and i feel like trash. her bf is also such a dick. maybe it’s my hatred for men but he’s so condescending and just a know it all. like bro. shut up?? i don’t know. maybe i’ve hit the fp point where i’m starting to realize the flaws. it just feels like she doesn’t want me around when we actually hang out. i also notice she’s constantly texting someone when i’m there and i’m pretty sure it’s her actual bff. the last time i was there, they were just on their phones the whole time. yes, the power had gone out for 24 hours and they were able to use their phones again. but fuck dude. i felt like the elephant in the room. i upset them and their kids because i was upset so i feel like the biggest pos for even being upset in the first place. i should’ve just gone home but i still would’ve been a pos. they also live bout two hours from me and that’s a long trip home bc i’m just a bitch, ya know? so i sucked it up and ruined everyone’s day still in the process. i just don’t know what to do. besides my ex who i am completely obsessed with and still in love with, she’s the only person i talk to. and i feel like i’m nothing to her. i’ll never be her best friend, even if she’s mine. it radiates every relationship in my life. i will never be someone’s favorite or their number one. everyone already has a best friend or just their significant other. some have their parents, i was always the worst child and the disappointment to my mother so that’s out. i was my father’s favorite but he passed when i was six. i just want to be someone’s number one. i want that unconditional love. i want to be the person someone wants to tell about everything, all the good and the bad. i want their first thought to be “oooh i gotta tell alice about this”. and i’m not. i know people say you have to reach out to people, don’t always expect them to reach out to you. after not being able to drive for two years, i can finally see my friends, since none of them wanted to hang when i couldn’t drive for two years. i’ve seen all of them, most of them multiple times. all because i initiated it. if i don’t ask people to hang out, they don’t talk to me. if i don’t initiate every conversation, it doesn’t happen. except for one person. my ex girlfriend who i am completely in love with and obsessed with. i bought my own christmas gifts this year for my mother to wrap and give to me. the only other person who got me anything was my ex girlfriend. i’ll never be her number one bc of her daughter, but obviously that’s understandable. every time i feel like i’m losing someone, it always comes back to her. she’s the only person who’s truly made me comfortable. sitting here alone in the apartment where i live by myself, im not comfortable. but if she’s here, i’m at peace. she feels like home. i just wish she wanted me like i want her. she told me she loves me still and pretty much that she’d be with me besides the fact she knows how easily she switches and how easily she could hurt me. so she doesn’t want to put me through it again. so we stay friends and i at least get my safe person, even if it’s only when she has time. at least she calls me first. i just want to be able to keep someone in my life other than her. why doesn’t anyone love me like that? no one in my fucking family, birth family or adopted family, want anything to do with me. everyone around me makes me feel like i’m just their pity party. oh the poor girl with the seizure disorder and no friends or family. it’s the look on peoples faces when they talk to me or just the way they don’t talk to me. if i go to smoke with my neighbors, we smoke and they play on their phones or the game. we don’t talk. it’s like people can’t stand me if i open my mouth. i don’t like social media besides tumblr, and i feel rude sitting on my phone when i’m with people, so i don’t. i just sit there, quiet and uncomfortable, feeling like no one wants me there, and once again, like i am the elephant in the room.

i stg if someone hugged me right now, i’d just break and shatter into a million pieces. and then i’d crawl out of my skin for the simple fact someone touched me and was in my bubble.

i just want to be able to be happy being completely alone. but my heart longs for her. every person that makes me feel lonely is just another thing making me miss her more.

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9tzuyu · 3 years

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who you are

note: mostly made this for my own comfort, but i do hope it helps and/or comforts any fellow lesbians :]. i normally wouldn’t specify sexualities on any characters because obviously everyones going to feel differently about different characters, but like i said this started off for my own comfort bcs i was hashtag goin through it.

prompt: basically just reader struggling to accept themselves as a lesbian. sorry non lesbians :(

warnings: heavy heavy heavy on internalized lesbophobia. talks about comphet (trying to force oneself to like men) and wanting to be ‘normal’

thank u ally for proofreading <3

not tagging anyone just because i don’t want to trigger :[

. . .

you were wrestling with something, natasha could tell that much. your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in a gaze. it wasn’t until the third time tony called your name when you snapped out of it.

“sorry,” you mumbled.

“well are you going to answer the question?”

natasha noted the tapping of your foot, knuckles cracking beneath the table. it was obvious you weren’t in the right state of mind to be answering any kind of question. foolishly, no one else picked up on that except for the redhead.

“what was the question?”

tony sighed, his patience growing thinner by the second.

“i asked if your report was done. it was supposed to be handed in three days ago, remember?”

your foot tapped faster.

“yeah- yeah, i’m almost finished.”

it wasn’t like you to be so late on things like this, you were usually on top of everything.

“you told me you would have it ready by today. this is the fourth time this month that you’ve done this. you’re dragging your ass and the rest of us are getting pretty tired of it.” a collective agreement could be heard from the team. all eyes were on you waiting for a reply.

if you hadn’t felt anxious before, you most definitely did now.

“it won’t happen again.” tony blew off your statement and rolled his eyes. you shifted uncomfortably, nauseous from all the negative attention.

you couldn’t help but wonder if they knew. maybe that’s why they were being so short. it made sense after all.

natasha tried making her way towards you, but she was stopped by steve’s hand on her shoulder. you were well past gone by the time she managed to scramble away from him.

your back pressed flatly against the wall, tears steadily falling down your face. hatred was all you felt. hatred towards yourself.

why couldn’t you be like the rest of them? why didn’t you belong?

whywhywhywhywhywhy

granted, you knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. that was never the issue. the issue was the fact that it was yourself, that there was no possibility for you to ever be attracted to men.

you were sure it would be a phase, that it would pass, that you would forget about it and never think about it again. you tried to go on dates, tried to form a relationship, tried to enjoy having sex with them. none of it worked, no matter how much you forced yourself to believe it would.

all you could think about was how sick and disgusting you felt. and the shit representation didn’t help your case at all. the media hardly ever portrayed a good, well-rounded lesbian character that wasn’t problematic, over-sexualized or dead.

the media only reiterated the fact that you were supposed to want men. you were supposed to find the right guy and fall in love with him, call him your husband and start a family.

a knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts. you shuffled your way back to your feet, drying your eyes for good measurement.

natasha stood patiently, eyes drilled on your doorknob. if it were up to her she’d be picking your lock, but she knew that would be crossing a boundary. she went to knock again when your door swung open.

“hi nat.”

“hey,” her voice was soft. “you’ve been crying...” she pressed her hand against your face, thumb rubbing the top of your cheekbone.

you shrugged. it wasn’t like you could deny her, your red eyes had already given away the truth. “yeah.”

she hummed, “may i come in?”

you hesitantly moved out of the way to let her through, cursing at yourself for finding her so attractive.

“you know you can talk to me, you always do. why haven’t you said anything?” natasha moved to sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve grown quiet these past few days, it’s not like you.”

“i’m just tired, worn out from work i suppose.”

she nodded, though she knew better than to believe such a lie. natasha could always tell when you were lying, something you both hated and loved at the same time.

you sat next to her after a friendly tap on the bed. her gaze made you feel like a little kid in trouble. it was as if she already knew and was prepared to say the worse.

“i don’t believe you.”

“well, i don’t know what you want me to tell you, nat.”

“how about the truth?” you scoffed purely out of defense. “and what good would that do?”

“it might relieve whatever you’ve got on your heart.” you met natasha’s eyes and your lip immediately began to quiver.

“i’m afraid you won’t be able to look at me the same.”

she softened, taking your hand in hers. “there’s nothing in the world that would change the way i see you.”

“you say that now, nat, but-”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it.”

you thought about it further. natasha had never been one to judge someone based on the things they’ve been through, the things they’ve done or the things that make them who they are. she saw people the way they were, nothing more, nothing less.

but what if she didn’t like you or see you the way you were? you weren’t sure you could handle the aftermath if that were to be the case. it was bad enough you struggled to accept yourself, natasha’s disapproval would only break you.

“i’m a lesbian.” a lump in your throat began to form and you found yourself crying once more. “i tried so hard, i tried everything i could think of, but i can’t, i don’t like men.”

you coughed, choking on your words.

“i don’t understand, nat! i don’t understand why i can’t be normal. why can’t i do it? if i just liked men i would be okay, i would be fine, i would be fucking accepted.” you paused for a breath of air. “i just want to be normal.”

natasha was taken back by your confession. it was nothing near what she thought it would be. she expected you to tell her you’d been stressed or that you were scared for the next mission.

“i’m sorry, i-”

the spy quickly cupped your face, tilting your chin upwards as a hint to meet her eyes again.

“look at me, c’mon, hey. you have nothing to be sorry for, don’t ever think that you do. i love you for who you are. there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. you’re normal, you’re who you are, who you’re supposed to be. you are real. i promise you are.”

without thinking you leaned into natasha, clinging on to her for dear life. her arms found their way around your body, hands rubbing your back up and down.

“you should be proud to be who you are, not ashamed. and if you’re not proud of yourself then please know that i am. i am so, so, incredibly proud of you, sweetheart.” she finger brushed your hair as you continued to cry. “shhh, you’re alright baby. i’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone.”

“it’s okay nat.” she gave your body a small squeeze, frowning at your response. “you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to force yourself to be someone or something you’re not. you don’t deserve to struggle so much for your own acceptance as a lesbian.”

you nodded, though she could tell you weren’t fully convinced. “the only opinions you should care about are your own and the people you love and cherish. i know that’s easier said than done, but it’s true. besides, what you told me just gives me something more to love about you.” natasha finished off with a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“this means a lot to me, nat. thank you, for everything really.”

“oh sweetheart i should be thanking you for trusting me with such an important part of you are.” you shied away, a growing smile forming on your face as you leaned into her shoulder.

natahsa smirked, clearly aware of the effect she had on you. “who knew you could be so cute?”

“nattttt.”

she rose her hands up in surrender, “alright, alright. i’ll stop on one condition.”

“what’s that?” you mumbled.

“would you let me take you out for dinner tonight? i’ll show you just how beautiful it is to be with a woman.”

“yeah, yes- yes please, that’s fine.” natasha could’ve sworn she heard your heartbeat quicken and she had to refrain from letting out a small laugh at your flustered state.

“we need to clear that little mind of yours. i’ll be back here at seven on the dot, okay?” a pat on the leg caught your senses as you watched her stand. the last thing natasha heard was the soft “okay” fall from your lips as she walked out the door.

you’d never been happier to be a lesbian in your life by the end of the night.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

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Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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seita · 4 years

Text

the contract girlfriend | semi eita (m.)

˒ pairing: semi eita/reader ˒ genre: angst, fluff, smut ˒ wordcount: 𝟺𝟹𝟹𝟷 ˒ tags: friends2lovers, fake dating, musician!eita ˒ cw: dirty talk, loss of virginity, virgin kink if u squint: sweet talking, pet names, mean girl ex, mutual pining, unrequited love(?), angst with a happy ending, UNEDITED

+ note: this is a collab along with the other writers for the kkc! i would also like to thank @bokutobabie 𝖿for her help with this plot bc it was kickin’ my ass.

˖˖ summary: when he was an unknown musician, his girlfriend left him. now that he’s made it, he wants to make her jealous at a fancy party so he can get her back.unfortunately, he asks you to be his fake date. the downside? you have a very real crush on him.

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“I have a proposition,” is never a sentence you want to hear when you sit down to lunch with your best friend. Especially when that friend is Semi Eita.

“What..?” you ask apprehensively, taking the cup of coffee he’d obviously gotten to bribe you. You took it regardless, not willing to pass up the offer of free coffee.

“Nana is gonna be at the party this weekend,” he muttered, swirling his fingertips around the rim of his cup. You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at his words, “I want you to come and pretend to be my date.”

Just as you’d expected. Not something you wanted to hear.

Nana was Eita’s first love, his first serious relationship, really. They got together when he was fresh out of highschool, the two of them spending almost all of their time together.

It was when his career as a musician was just beginning, he was playing small gigs and there was nothing really successful. But he was happy. And he thought she was too.

Until she dumped him in favor of a much more famous man. He was a big movie producer and offered her a leading role in an upcoming film. Of course, she took the offer.

She would much rather be mingling with the rich and famous than be hanging out with “a nobody like him”, as she put it. You remembered the hurt Eita felt, the tears and heartbreak it took almost 3 years for him to get over.

“Why?” you finally asked with a sigh, “What will that accomplish?”

“Well if she gets jealous, she might want to get back with me,” he grinned impishly, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You recognized the look in his eyes, one of determination. So you sighed, nodding your head, “Alright, I’ll be your date.”

He beamed, uttering out endless thanks to you as you went on with your lunch until he decided to go back to the studio. He slipped his hat on low, making sure his mask was in place before hugging your goodbye and leaving you sitting alone at the table.

You sighed, downing the last of your coffee. Your spirits were low; you had no idea what to expect from this party.

Would she fall for it and run back into his arms now that he had had his big breakthrough and became mainstream? She surely must have known by now; his band was already breaking records, wracking up fans by the thousands, his songs were being played on the radio.

Maybe now that he was famous enough, she’d actually want to be with him. Not that she deserved him. And he didn’t deserve someone like that, either. He was too good for her, too good to be treated like that.

You let out another sigh and stood up, grabbing your purse from the back of the chair.

This was going to be painful. You weren’t sure how you would cope with pretending to be his girlfriend all for the sake of him getting back with her.

Surely your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Because as much as you tried to hide it, you were irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The entire getup was supplied to you by Eita; from the jewelry to the dress itself. You felt like a different person. Despite the fact he was your best friend, you hadn’t attended one of the big parties since his band’s breakout single.

This particular party wasn’t in celebration of his band, but he was invited regardless so naturally he went. He was still enjoying the high life and was getting used to tasting fame. You were glad it hadn’t actually affected his personality.

“You look nice today,” Tendou complimented with a breezy smile. He was nursing a glass of champagne, which was uncharacteristic to say the least. He had always been more of a whiskey kind of guy.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, “I’m not really a fan of this kind of thing.”

“I know,” he grinned, “You look terribly uncomfortable, that’s why I came over to be such a good pal and keep you company while your darling boyfriend is off galavanting with the people!”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend, Satori.”

He giggled, taking glee in your embarrassment, “But you wish he was.”

“Are you already drunk?” you raise a brow, making him snicker.

Someone called his name from the crowd and he flashed you a knowing grin, “Eita may be too dim to see it, but the rest of us aren’t!”

You pout and find yourself alone once again. Looking around, you search for your ‘boyfriend’. Suddenly, a heavy arm falls across your shoulders and the familiar scent of his cologne reaches your nose.

“Hey, babygirl,” he coos, making your heart skip a beat at the pet name. He sounds so fond and you feel yourself smiling before he busts out laughing, shaking his head before letting his arm fall from your shoulders, “That’s just so weird. I dunno if I’ll be able to get through this tonight,” Ouch. “Anyway, Nana just arrived so…” he takes your hand but you can’t bring yourself to smile as you feel the ache in your heart at his words.

If he takes note of your deflated behavior, he doesn’t say anything, merely leading you over to the balcony. You breathe in the fresh air and feel the ache in your chest dull.

“Eita? Is that you?” a perky voice makes you cringe.

“Nana,” Eita breathes, tugging you against his side as she breaks through the crowd to stand in front of the two of you.

Her smile promptly disappears at the sight of you crowded in Eita’s arms.

“Eita...who’s this?” she asks, a smile returning but you can tell it’s plastic.

You remembered everything you had gone over with him before the party; the two of you had sat down for a few hours to sort out your story and rules. It had felt like you were making a binding contract with him when you told him no kissing on the lips. It was your only stipulation and you swore you saw a brief downward tug of his lips when you told him before he beamed and readily agreed.

Maybe you were imagining that disappointment in his eyes too.

“This is my girlfriend, _____,” Eita introduced, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Oh,” she gave you a strained smile and held out her hand for you to shake. When you slipped your hand into hers, she gave it a tense squeeze that made you flinch, “I’m Nana, Eita’s ex.”

“I’ve uh…” you cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, “I’ve heard stories about you.”

“All good I’m sure,” she replied flippantly before setting her sights on him once more, “We should totally catch up, you know? Reminisce about the good old times~”

The sultry, flirtatious undertone made your skin crawl. Even if you weren’t really dating, she thought you were and for her to not respect that made you angry. But still, Eita pulled away and placed a kiss against your temple that set your heart ablaze.

“Sure, why not?” he grinned and gave your hand a squeeze, “You go have some fun, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You gave him a hollow wave as he quickly vanished into the crowd without a second glance your way. You knew this was the end goal but still, to see him walking away hurt. A sense of rejection was seeded within you and you felt your spirits slowly being crushed.

It took all your power to continue on with the party until it felt acceptable to leave. Throughout the party, you kept getting glances of the two of them.

Eita wore a serene smile, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. Whenever she looked at him with a flirtatious smile and a subtle caress, you felt jealousy pool in the core of your stomach. You wanted to march over there and scream “he’s mine!”. But you couldn’t, because he wasn’t really yours.

He was only pretending to be yours so he could have her.

Your phone vibrated as you downed your final glass of wine, making you look at the screen with a frown.

“I’m heading to Nana’s apartment for the night! See if Satori can give you a ride home, thanks for the help!!”

Your jaw ached from how hard you were forcing yourself to keep from crying. When you tried to find the elusive redhead, you found he was drunk and dancing with two girls so you decided to leave him be and simply call an Uber.

For just a short time, you had simply been a contract girlfriend for him to use. Though you knew it was fake, it still felt so nice to be called his.

So you went home, removing your expensive clothing like Cinderella after the ball and decided to relax on the couch. It was only a little past midnight when you got out of the shower, turning on the TV to watch whatever late night nonsense was playing.

Eita thought that being with Nana again would be everything he wanted. But as he laid beside her, her head resting on his naked chest, strangely all he could think of was you.

When he asked you to pretend to be his date, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of how it would really feel. Sure, he had touched you before, naturally. Sometimes he hugged you and held your hand. But that night, when he placed the kiss against your head, the way your eyes lit up in response had his heart stuttering when he thought back to it.

Truth be told, when you told him he couldn’t kiss you he felt so...disappointed. He had thought of assigning the same rule but decided against it at the last moment, secretly thinking about how nice it may feel to kiss you.

He had quickly dashed that though because of how wrong it was to think of you like that.

Yet there he was, thinking of you with his ex girlfriend back in his arms again.

“Eita?” Nana asked, lifting her head to look drowsily at him, “Are you okay?”

“Um...yeah,” he clears his throat, “I should probably get going.”

“Why?” she whines, “Don’t worry about her.”

“Huh? Who?” he asks, confused.

She giggles and clings to his arm, “Your girlfriend! She doesn’t have to know!”

His heart ached at those words -- true, you weren’t really dating but he felt like he had done something wrong. And for some reason Nana’s blatant disregard that he had cheated with her made him nauseous.

“I...I just want to see if she made it home safely,” he gave her a tight lipped smile and picked up his phone.

She rested against the pillow, head propped up on her hand as she watched him dial you. When you didn’t answer, he gave a frustrated sigh and dialed Satori instead.

It rang a few times before the slurred voice of his best friend answered, “H-Hey man, what’s up?”

“Satori, did you drop _____ off okay?” Eita asked.

The redhead made a confused sound over the line, “What’re you talkin’ about? She never asked me to take her anywhere.”

“What?” Eita frowned, “Did you see her leave the party?”

“Gotta tell ya, man, I wasn’t watchin’ her,” Tendou replied, a feminine giggle in the background making Eita frown, “Wasn’t that supposed to be your job?”

Eita sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, dude, just...let me know if you hear from her.”

“Hah? Why would she call me?” Satori chuckled, “Why don’t you just check on her? Better safe than sorry...I mean, she’s a cute girl, you never know what kinda scoundrels were eyeing her in that pretty little dress tonight. If i was a less honorable friend, she would be the one in my bed right now!”

Eita scoffed and hung up as his friend started cackling gleefully over the line. Eita stood up, shaking off Nana’s grabby hands as he slipped his jeans back on.

“You’re not going back to her, are you?” she pouted.

Eita sighed, “I gotta check on her. No one knows where she went off to.”

“She’s a big girl, c’mon Eita~” she purred, letting the sheet fall from her bare body as she crawled towards him.

He shook his head and threw his shirt on, grabbing his keys off of her dresser before moving to the door, “I gotta see her.”

He ignored her obnoxious whining as he bolted out the door. Any sleepiness that was in his system had evaporated at the worry he felt over you.

The drive to your apartment was quick enough, it went by in a blur. He took two steps at a time up to your place on the 3r floor, not patient enough to wait for the elevator.

The knock on your door made you jump. Throwing the pillow you held in your lap aside, you checked through the peephole to see a familiar head of sandy blonde hair.

Pulling the door opened, you looked at him with wide eyes, “Eita? Aren’t you supposed to be with--”

“I couldn’t get a hold of you,” he breathed, stepping past you to enter your living room.

“And?” you laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I got worried! Why didn’t you go home with Satori?” he sighed, sitting on your couch with a huff.

You chuckled again, though it was humorless, “He looked like he was having fun, I didn’t want to impose.”

He sighs and relaxes against the couch. As you sit next to him, for a second things feel normal.

You almost feel okay, as if you could forget about everything happening. It’s so easy to forget your crush on your best friend and the fact he wanted to be with another woman.

It was easy to forget it all until it came rushing back into your face in the form of Nana.

You and Eita were having a lunch date, as was normal for the two of you. Unfortunately, amid his retelling of a story you had heard a million times over, she showed up with an obnoxious screech of his name.

“Eita!” she squealed and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

You let out a soft sigh, your eyes falling to your half-finished plate.

“Nana…” he greeted, eyes wide in shock, “H-How did you find me? What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you, silly!” she chirped, taking a seat in his lap in a way that was far too comfortable. Suddenly, her gaze shifted to you and the smile vanished off of her face, “Oh, you’re here.”

“Nana…” Eita sighed but didn’t make any move to get off of him.

“What? I thought you were going to break up with her?” she whined loudly, making your cheeks burn as people looked over at the two of you, “You said you were going to dump her!”

“I--” Eita started.

“You should go,” Nana grinned at you, shrugging her shoulders as she hugged Eita closer to her, “Seriously, he’s mine now. He was fucking me at that party instead of you.”

Although nothing about your relationship that night was real, the humiliation you felt at that very moment was. She was smug that she had gotten your boyfriend to cheat on you and was making a spectacle of her victory.

Biting your lip, you reached behind you to grab your purse, “I-I’ll see you later, Eita.”

“______ wait!” he called but you were already rushing towards the entrance.

You had no idea that he was hot on your heels until you reached your apartment. You went to close it only for the foot to intercept it. Looking over your shoulder, you found Eita panting before he was pushing the door open completely.

“_____ I--” he paused, “Why are you crying?”

“I am?” you wiped under your eyes and frowned when you felt the moisture there, promptly wiping it away, “Sh-She completely made a fool of me, Eita. I don’t know what you ever saw in her and I don’t know why I helped you get back with her.”

“I know, look…” he ran a hand through his already messed up hair, “I feel the same, alright? I’m sorry I pulled you into all this, _____, I really am. Alright, I told her to get lost.”

You sighed and took a seat on your couch, “She only wanted you back because you’re famous now. You know that right?”

He chuckled and sat down, nodding his head, “I guess I was just...hoping for something I guess.”

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, “I don’t really remember anymore,” he confessed.

“Well,” you didn’t quite know what to say, simply leaning back on the couch to appear relaxed, “I always wondered why you didn’t date after her anyway.”

He shrugged once more. How was he meant to say that he didn’t want anyone impeding on his time with you?

“I guess...no one really came along, you know?”

You nodded, “I guess it’s the same for me.”

He snorted, “You’ve never even dated anyone before.”

“You don’t have to bring that up!” you whined, playfully shoving his shoulder.

He laughed, melodic and pretty, “I think it’s cute. What’s your story then?”

“Eita, we’ve been friends since high school, you know everything about me,” you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm at the soft look he was giving you.

“Yeah but…” he bit his lip, fingers inching closer towards you, “You’re...pretty and sweet. There’s plenty of good looking guys around me that have tried flirting with you before. Hell, Satori even said he was into you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, none of them are right…”

“Who is right then?” he asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his voice.

“Eita…” the smile falls from your lips, your heart hammering in your chest as he moved closer towards you, “I…”

“Hm?” he hummed, his nose brushing against yours, breath fanning over your lips.

“I...I won’t regret this, will I?” you asked.

His breathing stuttered against your skin and he shook his head, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “You won’t.”

After those words left his mouth, he brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss that was perfect for a first. You could tell he was experienced, knowing exactly how to move.

There was something sweet lingering on his tongue that you found utterly addictive.

You wish you could find it strange or even scary to wind up in bed with your best friend. The fact your entire relationship was going to be changing should have concerned you but all you felt was anticipation.

He hovered over your body, the two of you stripping your clothes with unhurried ease. His body was firm from working out, a habit he never let go of from his time as a volleyball player.

His hands were calloused and warm as they touched your body, caressing your breasts in a way no one ever had. The feeling of him thumbing over your nipples had your back arching in arousal, your panties becoming soaked embarrassingly fast.

He was hard and throbbing in his jeans, the constricting material almost painful but all he really cared about in that moment was seeing all of you.

Hooking his thumbs into the band of your panties, he pulled the material down. He cursed under his breath at the strings of slick that attached to the fabric.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, licking his lips as he tossed your panties over his shoulder to be lost somewhere in your room.

“Sh-Shut up, don’t tease me…” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your body’s own reaction to him.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, “I’m not, baby. It’s sweet...I love knowing you react so honestly to me.”

“Eita…” you whined, reaching up to cover your face as he spread your legs.

“Hmm?” he bites his lip, sliding two fingers between your folds to spread them apart.

Your hole clenched around nothing, drooling more slick for him to gather on his fingertips. He used it to rub smooth circles around your clit, the sweet moan that fell from your lips at the pleasure he so easily gave you.

“I’ll get you nice and prepped, baby,” he cooed, the nickname making your heart soar.

You were so wet, making it easy for him to slide two thick fingers into your pretty cunt. You clamped down tight around the digits, making his cock throb at the mere thought of what that would feel like around his hard cock.

Twisting his wrist, he crooked his fingers up to hit your sweet spot, his thumb coming up to circle around your clit. The inexperience of your body made it so easy for him to bring you to the edge.

You had never felt this, no one had ever touched you so intimately so your body was more reactive than ever.

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. He smiled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You cumming?” he asked, though he could very easily feel your walls spasming around him.

Still, you nodded, mouth falling open but no sound escaping, “E-Eita…”

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, fasting his pace to fuck your dripping cunt. The sounds were wet, lewd and if you were with anyone else you would have been completely ashamed. But it was Eita, the person you trusted the most in the world. He groaned as your body began to quake, “Let it go, pretty girl. Cum for me, that’s it.”

At his encouragement, you released with a shrill whine of his name. He eagerly fucked your gushing cunt through the high, only slowing when your back met the bed again.

Pulling his fingers from your hole, he was mindful of your sensitivity. He still couldn’t resist placing a fleeting kiss against your throbbing clit before sitting up to meet you for another heated kiss.

Your body was still trembling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your thighs spread open around his waist. His clothed cock hovered above your sensitive core and he made sure the rough material of his jeans didn’t make contact.

“Please, Eita, c-can we…?” you asked, biting your lip, too embarrassed to utter the words.

He smiled and nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear before sitting up to discard the remaining clothing on his person. His skin was pretty, tanned and built. His cock reached his navel, dripping precum down the length which he used to easily slick his cock up with his fist.

The sight of your best friend jerking himself off over your naked, trembling body felt beyond taboo. But it only made you more eager to have him.

“Please, Eita...I want you,” you breathed.

He flashed you a smile and sat up on his knees, sliding the dripping tip between your folds. Brushing past your clit, you whined at the sensitivity.

“It might hurt a bit, pretty baby,” he whispered, positioning himself at your entrance.

You had already guessed it. He was big just by looking at him. But nothing compared to when he began to sink into you -- that’s when his size really became apparent.

“Ah, Eita!” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He hissed but didn’t stop you, eyes falling to where his cock was steadily stretching you open. When he got halfway in, he pulled back until the head remained within your clasping walls. With an experienced roll of his hips, he pushed his cock back in, this time easily bottoming out.

“Fuck!” you squealed, back arching.

He could feel you gushing, dripping down his balls. There wasn’t a single sign of pain in your features so he quickly began to move, the both of you riled up and eager to have each other completely.

Everything felt so right, so sweet. Having him in your arms made you feel so happy.

“You’re mine now, baby,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck, “All mine. N-No more, fuck, of this friend shit...I love you.”

“Eita,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes as you hugged him tightly against you, “I love you too. P-Please make me cum.”

“Fuck, I’ll get you there, baby,” he promised, reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Your walls immediately clamped tight around him as he played with your little bud, “C’mon. Cum for me. I wanna feel you cream, pretty baby. Can you do that for me? Show me how good this cock makes you cum.”

His filthy words, whispered in his sweet, deep voice were enough to throw you over the edge. As you squeezed around him, trembling and gushing through the amazing orgasm, he spilled within you. A soft whimper of your name fell from his lips as his balls throbbed, cock spitting out load after load until you were so filled, it dripped from your cunt.

Finally, the both of you stilled. He leaned back to look in your eyes, tucking some damp hair behind your ear before pecking your lips.

“I meant it, you really are mine now,” he said.

You nodded, “You’re all mine too.”

“Well,” he gave you a teasing grin, “You have to share me with my millions of adoring fans.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you giggled, biting your lip as he pulled out, “You have thousands at most.”

“Oh, way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he laughed.

You were grateful to have him, everything with him was so easy. Everything between you was fine, perfect even. And you didn’t have to worry about ever losing him to another girl again.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #eita x reader #semi eita x reader #eita semi x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #eita smut #afton.writes

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shewhotellsstories · 3 years

Note

i really dont wanna annoy you but you post about racism in fandom sometimes so i thought you'd be the right person to ask. i hope this doesnt come off as expecting u to be my teacher. yesterday someone said they didnt trust white zk shippers and i thought it was mean but then people started sending the them all these nasty messages and i started to worry maybe op was right. honestly a lot of this stuff is pretty new for me. i think our fandom is inclusive & unlike the rest of the atla fandom we actually like katara. but i'm trying to learn.

why would it be a problem that a lot of zk fics have katara looking after zuko? i always just felt like he needed it more bc he was abused and kataras better at dealing with feelings and she's good at taking care of people. is fire lady katara still ok? is there racism in our fandom? there are a lot of woc zks and i've seen them get hate for it. but the messages op got were pretty bad too. i know i'm asking a lot of questions i just hate the thinking that we might be as bad as the z*kka stans have been saying all year.

This is gonna get long so I’m just gonna jump right in. When I listened to fansplaining’s episode on fandom racism one of the guests said white fans who can acknowledge that fandom racism exists tend to frame it as “just a few bad apples” and get caught up in worrying about not looking like a “bad apple” instead of making fandoms spaces that aren’t hostile for BIPOC. Jag offs hiding behind anon to tell women of color who ship zutara that we have a creepy fetish for imperialism and colonialism suck, but your biggest concern really shouldn’t be the optics or if you can claim superiority over zukka stans.

Yeah the “katara’s a homophobe” nonsense didn’t come from our end of the fandom, but it feels naive at best or dishonest at worst to act like the zutara fandom is uniquely immune to fandom racism. A creator I follow made the excellent point that allyship conditional upon if a poc talks "nicely" about racism is still white supremacy. I believe poc need to be allowed to vent and be salty or angry without being tone-policed. I definitely have my days where I’m like “ugh white people,” or "why must white fans be like this," so I get where the OP was coming from. Ironically the folks that sent them anon hate proved their point. You can always count on hit dogs to hollar.

Fandom is only escapist for some people. It doesn’t exist in a vacuum so you’ll find racism in fandom because there’s racism in the world. Navigating that gets exhausting. There are certain things I enjoy, but for the sake of my sanity I'll only talk about it with friends in real life or only follow fans of color. Before I follow white fans I need to see first that they’re not the kind of person who inspires posts about fandom racism. A good friend of mine loves Star Wars, Kpop, and gaming but after years of attempts at calling in she decided that she’d only interact with woc in those spaces. Again, you get tired.

ATLA wasn’t on my radar until last year so I definitely haven’t read every zutara fic out there but I have noticed a lot of fics do tend to have Katara being the one comforting and supporting Zuko. It’s not inherently wrong of course, it’s just in the grand scheme of things in fiction woc are often cast as eternal caretakers and confidants in fiction:

“How characters of color are portrayed in fanworks, especially fanfiction, is worse than the actual films. They are portrayed as supportive, almost invisible understudies. Any characteristics which they possess in the [MCU] films are stripped and given to other white characters. It is not only erasure. It’s a theft of identity.

Characters of color are positioned within storylines to support the main, white characters. Even within the slash biracial pairings, the character of color is underdeveloped and in a position of servitude within the relationship.”

TheNavyLanguage, Fansplaining

As the quote above points out this honestly happens in a lot of fandoms. I’ve read fanfic for books, movies, tv shows, and comics and I can’t help but notice that in fics the writers often have the non-white character or-- if neither character is white--the darker skinned character being the care-taker, the bodyguard, or the person who is performing all the emotional labor. It’s not inherently wrong to have a character of color have a nurturing personality, you just have to remember that since Black and brown folks have been saddled with narrative after narrative where we exist to serve leaning into dynamics where the non-white or darker skinned character is providing all the emotional support and getting very little in return has some unfortunate implications.

It’s not better if instead of being defined as the avatar’s girl, Katara’s the fire lord’s girl. Part of the appeal of zutara for me is the idea that Katara could lay down some of her burdens and get some much needed support. I always imagine she’d have some major issues after the war.

"i always just felt like he needed it more bc he was abused and kataras better at dealing with feelings and she's good at taking care of people."

I’m going to push back against that statement. Yes, Katara didn't grow up in an abusive household but she has pain and trauma of her own. In fact I’d argue that her believing it’s her job to take care of everyone is rooted in her trauma. Katara needs support and care just as much as anyone else does.

Having read a lot of fics revolving around abuse victims in different fandoms I’ve observed that if fans feel a character’s trauma wasn’t properly addressed in canon, they’ll give them a lot of TLC in fics. But again, reducing the non-white or darker-skinned character to a glorified therapist has some implications.

I feel like the Fire Lady Katara headcanon's been talked to death so long-story short, it’s not inherently racist but it can problematic if it's not clear that Katara is Katara of the Water Tribe wherever she lives. Fics and art where her crown has a crescent moon, she wears blue, or Zuko wears blue when she's in red are the executions I'm fondest of.

When in doubt just listen when poc talk about uncomfortable trends in the fandom. Give fansplaining’s episodes on fandom racism a listen here, here, and here. And very loosely quoting my favorite professor just remember that if a marginalized person says they’re distrustful of a group of people or institution it usually happens after a lot of bad experiences. Don’t center your own comfort and hurt feelings.

“If we truly believe in fandom’s progressive credentials, then perhaps it is necessary for us to listen to critiques that make us uncomfortable rather than those that keep arguing that the status quo is perfectly acceptable—even as there is plenty of evidence to the contrary. Perhaps then we will be able to come at these, yes, these very complex and nuanced discussions with the type of openness and good faith that is required for them to succeed, rather than approaching them with hostility.”

-Rukmini Pande, Fansplaining

#asked and answered #zutara #katara #atla fandom crit #fandom racism

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kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

Girl Crush

Summary: This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

Or; at the end of 3x23, Sylvie doesn't go home with Roman-- but instead with Kim. And gets the fucking she deserves.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. This is just my excuse to give Sylvie the orgasm she deserves and the one she clearly did not get with Ratman. And so there's also Roman bashing bc Roman is trash.

Word Count: 4.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: For @gilbxrt-blythe bc Abby started™ something in my mind on Sunday, thus leading me to writing this all yesterday bc,,, our girls deserve so much better than Sean Roman and this fandom needs more wlw content. Let's save our darling girls!!

Someone’s hooking up tonight.

Chili’s words go around in Sylvie’s head all night. Largely, she ignores them—or rather, tries to—just focusing on the beer she’s sipping faster than usual and the joyous atmosphere in the bar but there’s those moments it creeps into her thoughts.

Her PIC is right about one thing, the thing she said about volcanoes. The firehouse has been so tense of late and she can tell that a weight has been lifted off them, and Sylvie thinks that’s quite like a volcano. But she—perhaps, stubbornly—refuses to admit Chili might be right about the hooking up part.

If anyone was to know Sylvie’s thoughts, know that she’s trying, more vehemently that she should, to deny that, they question why. To which Sylvie would just claim that it’s because she hates gossiping about her co-workers, people who are her friends are family, and that she doesn’t like speculating on their sex lives.

Sylvie even tried to insist this to herself, not that it works. How can it when she can feel her toes curl slightly at the thought of just... Throwing everything to the wind and just enjoying some pure, unadulterated primal ecstasy. That she finds herself subconsciously looking around the bar, as if she’s trying to find a suitable candidate.

She has always felt the weight of her friends’ turmoil so heavily. Empathetic to the core, her father said, when he grinned at her becoming a paramedic, telling her it’s what she was born to do. She likes it, she does. She likes caring about those important to her, to care about anyone who’s a decent human—and even those who aren’t—but it gets tiring, feeling the weight of their unhappiness on her shoulders.

It’s not even like she was directly wrapped up in the drama going around in the house, but it was so intense—a volcano getting ready to burst. And something tells her that she won’t be able to shake it off with just getting drunk amongst her friends.

“Hey, Brett,” Sylvie looks to her left, seeing Sean Roman slip into the seat beside her. The paramedic smiles at him, ever polite, turning so she’s more face on to him. He was close to her before she shifted, and she thought that would be annoying, if he wanted to converse.

Only, Sylvie quickly gets that he doesn’t have talking on mind.

The patrol officer is quick to close the space between them again, shifting himself and resting a hand on the back edge of her seat. She could get away if she wanted, but it gives off a certain trapped vibe, a vibe that shows exactly the kind of intentions Roman has.

There’s a twist of uncomfortableness in her stomach. Roman is sort of attractive, she guesses, although she doesn’t know if she’d fully trust her taste in men yet; there being too many wrongly stacked choices compared to the right. But even if he was the hottest specimen she had ever seen, there’s something off putting about his approach, leaving her with the impression he doesn’t want her to move away from him.

But there’s that volcano inside her, wanting to explode, and the alcohol is already coursing through her veins, so despite the sober parts of her brain metaphorically screwing up its nose at the officer, Sylvie doesn’t attempt to move again, instead leaning on her arm, interested in whatever he has to say.

“I’ve got a few more interesting stories like that, if you want to hear more?” Roman smiles hungrily at her, his eyes making her feel like a piece of meat. He had just finished telling her an amusing story from patrol and she gets the impression that’s his hook, and that now he’s trying to reel her in.

“The bar’s a bit loud, though. So we should go back to mine,” There it is, the beginning of the reel. He’s looking hopeful at her, and there’s an attempt to look appealing, sexy. It doesn’t work, but Sylvie finds herself shrugging, thinking that she could do a lot worse that Sean Roman.

“Hey, Sylvie. Roman.” Before she can agree, Kim appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

The brunette is on the other side of her, her arm lightly touching her as she greets them. In a way, Kim is affectively penning Sylvie in like her partner did, but it doesn’t make her stomach twist in that same uncomfortable way. There’s some meaning to that, she knows, but she doesn’t bother to reflect on what.

“Hey, Burgess.” Roman seems irked. He’s looking at her rather rudely, and Sylvie doesn’t like that. She cares about her friends and Kim is one of her first Chicago friends who doesn’t work with her. So she grins at her a little wider then she already would, wrapping her arms around the other officer.

“Hey, Kim!” If Roman picks up on the pointedness in Sylvie’s tone, he doesn’t let on.

“Hi,” Kim smiles at her again, repeating a greeting before continuing and Sylvie must be a little more tipsy than she thought because her mind is immediately drawn to how pretty Kim looks when she smiles. “Chili had to leave early and asked me if I could drive you home instead. She said sorry, but there was a cute guy who she needed to know a bit better,”

Sylvie knows instantly that Kim is lying. Chili asked no such thing, considering she wanted to get absolutely wasted tonight and had no intention of driving herself home, let alone Sylvie. This lie is an anchor, a get out of jail card, a bailout. For who, she doesn’t know—doesn’t think that she’s too drunk to need it, but she takes it anyway.

“Oh, she promised she wouldn’t!” Sylvie goes along with the lie Kim has spun. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,”

“Eh. It’s no problem.” Kim shrugs her off with a wave of a hand.

“I was actually about to leave myself. I can take Brett, you can just relax. That way I can continue telling her some patrol stories,” Roman inserts himself back in the conversation but Kim has no patience for him.

“We’re partners, I can tell her the stories. C’mon, Sylvie, let’s go.” Kim gently encourages Sylvie up. There’s a disappointment at not being able to expend all this tension away, but girl code is more important, and girl code is telling her to go with Kim.

“We have to walk around the block—I don’t actually have my car, so we’ll have to call a taxi.” Kim tells her when they leave Molly’s, arms linked. Neither of them are anything more than tipsy, but Sylvie finds herself giggling at her words.

“Then why did you drag me out? Was a guy bothering you?” She asks.

“Oh, trust me, I did that for you. You’d regret that so much tomorrow. The guy’s my partner and all, but he... I was on patrol with his ex. Going there—that wouldn’t give you any sort of satisfaction.” Kim explains, and Sylvie widens her eyes, giggling again.

“Really?” The irony of Sylvie spending the evening denying that she cares about gossip saying this, leaning in with intrigue, is not lost on her.

“Jenn didn’t say anything outright but... I asked why she got engaged so quickly and she expressed that he—her fiancé—is very talented with his tongue, if you get what I mean. I inferred the rest. A man who won’t eat out his girl is not a man worth your time.” Kim says very manner of fact, and Sylvie laughs at it, the brunette joining in shortly after.

“It’s the truth!” Kim insists through her laughter. They’ve walked around the corner, now, Kim quickly dialling for a taxi through her laughs.

“My ex fiancé never did.” Sylvie confesses when their laughter died down. Kim lifts an eyebrow.

“Never?”

“Never. He said it was disgusting. Didn’t stop him wanting me to suck him, though.” Sylvie can’t help the bitter edge to her words, thinking about Harrison and thinking about how she could waste her time on him. Kim, evidently, thinks the same.

“Life is too short for those kinds of men.” Kim says. Her words are assured, confident, just a statement and Sylvie just hums in response, thinking that Kim probably never wasted years like she did.

“Hey, Sylvie. I don’t mean that like... You deserve so much better.” Kim picks up on her sudden drop of mood. “I don’t know why we lower ourselves for arses like that, but you deserve so much better. Better than people like Harrison and Roman.”

“So do you—if your exes never..?” Sylvie quickly adds on and Kim lets out a snort.

“Oh yeah. I’ve dated my fair share of arseholes.” She nods. “I don’t know why they’re like this. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how anyone could want to fuck you and not completely worship you.”

This time, Sylvie does not laugh at the bluntness of Kim’s words, instead blushing a fierce shade of pink. She was only half looking at Kim when she said those words, but now Sylvie looks at the other woman more directly. She is greeted by Kim looking at her—although, maybe staring would be more accurate. It’s an intense look, a look her friend has never given her before, a look that says that maybe Kim doesn’t want to be just her friend tonight.

It deepens Sylvie’s blush.

The air between them immediately shifts, and it feels almost so natural, Sylvie finds herself questioning whether the air always felt this thick and charged. The air is heavy, and there’s this certain kind of electricity between them; an electric energy of sorts that reminds her of when she was eighteen and her friends and her caught a ride into the nearest big town and snuck into the club—and of Sylvie waiting outside for her friends after and sharing her first—and only—kiss with a girl.

“That’s cos we’re women, though? We know what we want.” Sylvie tries to push all those thoughts aside.

Tries to ignore what she feels building in the air—because surely, it’s just in her mind? Just because she was thinking about throwing caution to the wind and having a night of passionate, explosive sex—and tries to not focus on how pretty Kim looks, how she looks like she’s the best and worst decision she could ever make wrapped up in one.

On how Kim is looking at her with such intense eyes, almost hungry eyes, eyes that says she wants to be one of those men.

“That’s not just why. I wouldn’t just eat you out until you come screaming because I’m a woman, I’d do it because I want to make you come undone at my doing—like you deserve.” Kim’s words sends pulsating throbs through her body, and she can feel herself getting turned on, her body feeling like Kim has just found the secret code to her with just her words. Sylvie stares at Kim, with shock.

“You... I... What?” Sylvie splutters, unsure of what exactly Kim is saying.

“I’m just saying. You’re hot, Brett. I can see why Roman tried.” There’s a pause. “I’m not trying to ruin our friendship. Tell me if I’m wrong, that I’m not picking up on some things and I’ll shut up and just get you home. But if I’m right, I’ll fuck you right.”

“I...” Sylvie is facing Kim dead on, now, the space between them feeling like too much, electric and heavy. It’s dark, the only light being the street lamp. But it catches the side of Kim’s face, lighting it up in such a pretty way and it stirs something deep and primal inside her.

The dark, positively hungry eyes Kim is looking at her with doesn’t help, either. It’s not like earlier, with Roman, it doesn’t make her feel like a piece of meat. It makes her feel like she’s the world’s most precious delicacy and that Kim would give her left arm just to get a taste.

“You’re right.” The words are barely out of her mouth when Kim is closing the space between them. One of her arms slips around the blonde’s waist, pulling her flush to her, the other gently resting on the bend of Sylvie’s neck as she kisses her.

Kim’s lips are soft, her touch gentle. The kiss starts off slow, although Sylvie wouldn’t have thought it with the way her body immediately responds, aching and her heart beating. But then Kim deepens the kiss, encouraging her mouth to open wider, slipping in her tongue. Sylvie responds eagerly, her arms wrapping around Kim, practically grabbing hold of her so she can return the kiss more fiercely.

If this was a preview into the abilities of Kim’s tongue, Sylvie doesn’t think that she’ll have to work her long before—to use Kim’s words—Sylvie’s coming undone at her doing.

When the taxi arrives, honking it’s horn on the two, busy kissing each other like they’re the only people in the world, the alcohol running through their veins and their and respective tiring days edging them on, making them so filled with want for this, they pull apart, out of breath, chest heaving.

They share smiles, little light-hearted giggles as they pull apart, climbing into the taxi. Kim opens the door, grabbing at Sylvie’s hand as she does so before moving swiftly out the way so she can climb in first.

They don’t make out in the taxi. They’re not even jammed up too close together, their bodies just turned towards each other. They are close enough for them to still have their hands interlocked, although it’s more like their arms at places and for their feet to lightly tap at the other’s, playing a footsy kind of game but they’re friends, they shared a taxi before, they’ve even had this ease of physical contact before.

Sylvie would almost wouldn’t be able to tell that the line between friends and lovers had been blurred for tonight, if it wasn’t for the electric energy between them, from how Sylvie’s just waiting until they can get back to hers, and how whenever Kim moves her fingers up and down her arm, gently running against her skin, it feels like little shocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to yours,” Kim says as Sylvie leads her up the stairs. They’re deviating between holding hands and not, joking around as they make their way. Sometimes Kim’s spinning ahead of her, their hands dropping from their grip, and sometimes Sylvie is.

“We have only known each other a year and we have busy jobs.” Sylvie points out. Kim sticks out her tongue playfully and Sylvie has to stop herself from capturing it, and kissing Kim again. “This is me.”

Sylvie goes in first, opening her front door and placing her keys in her pot. Kim follows, and Sylvie watches as the brunette kicks off her shoes immediately, shrugging off her coat. For someone who’s never been here before, Kim fills the air with a confidence and it only fuels Sylvie’s need, her own confidence as the volcano erupts.

With a swift kick, Sylvie shuts her door and then her hands are on Kim, pulling her close. She grabs her hand, stopping her from moving further away from her, pulling her to her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Hm,” Kim moans against her, kissing her with a casual, yet urgent force. The melodic hum is tinted in amusement, and she pulls away briefly, to Sylvie’s disappointment. “So, we’re going straight to this? Aren’t even going to ask if I want a beer?”

Her words are said in an amused tone, but Sylvie still finds herself blushing, cursing herself slightly.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Do you—” She’s interrupted by Kim kissing her.

“You’re so easy to tease. Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to drink. Eat, maybe.” Sylvie goes to panic again but then she sees the glint sparkling away in her eye and she blushes, getting the play on words.

“Hm, well there’s only one thing on the menu if you’re,” she pauses, “Hungry,”

Sylvie could swear that Kim licks her lips but then the brunette is kissing her again and all thoughts go out of her head, the only thing on her mind being the taste of Kim and getting her to her bedroom as soon as she can.

Neither of them are determined to disconnect from one another for long, not even in the interest in getting to her bed unscathed from injuries. Kim hits into the sofa and Sylvie nearly trips over something she left on the floor, but the two stay touching, kissing each other hungrily and needily.

Sylvie would love to say that she savoured the moment Kim took off her top, but any clothes removed is done hastily, urgently, the clothes feeling too much, too intrusive. All Sylvie can do is give Kim a quick, appreciative look over after she tosses off her top.

Although, she thinks, that could do more with that Kim then helps her get her top off, and rewards her with her lips on her neck immediately after.

“There,” Sylvie manages to gasp out, pointing at which door is her bedroom’s, as Kim pushes her up against her wall, attacking her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. She’s going to have a mark there tomorrow, but tonight, tonight she doesn’t care, just tilting her head aside for her to have more access, her hands just grabbing at Kim as she does so.

Despite the urgency to get this far into her apartment, Kim has apparently decided they don’t need to finish the stretch right now, focusing on kissing along her collarbone, back up along her neck and jawline, stealing kisses from her lips before heading back down. She doesn’t go too far down with her kisses, but it’s enough to send Sylvie’s mind haywire, especially when she brushes along with her teeth.

All Sylvie can do is grab at Kim’s hair, the other hand resting on her waist, running up and down her back with her nails and moan at the kisses, grasping at her. One of Sylvie’s legs loops around Kim’s in a kind of way, pulling her lower body closer to her own, in the perfect place for Sylvie to grind against, needing to alleviate some tension.

It’s only when Kim’s hand snakes away from it’s current position and runs along the waistband of her jeans, deftly undoing her button and slipping inside does Sylvie gasp, pushing at Kim slightly. Kim’s hand is still cold from the cool Chicago night air, and Sylvie can feel the cold as Kim runs her hand against the cotton of her panties, lightly brushing over her throbbing clit.

“Bedroom. Kim, bedroom,” Sylvie gasps.

“Hm. Impatient, are we?” Kim grins at her, and Sylvie can’t help comparing it to a wolf looking at it’s prey. The brunette is so sweet and kind, Sylvie never would’ve guessed that she was like this—so confident and devious—in the bedroom. Or, rather, the hallway. But Sylvie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim steps away from Sylvie then, and she immediately misses the warmth of her body, and her hand's presence from where it was so close to where she wants—no, needs—her. She’s going into Sylvie’s bedroom, beckoning the blonde to follow.

Sylvie is starting to rather feel like putty in Kim’s hands, and she’s never been a passive participant in her sex life—well, except when she lets men (Harrison) rule how she should be—and she’s not about to start.

She follows Kim on through, and she already has an advantage knowing the layout of her bedroom. Sylvie’s hands are on Kim again, and she’s leading, practically pushing, Kim to her bed, the brunette having no choice but to lie down on it, Sylvie immediately straddling her.

“Not a very good cop, are you?” Sylvie teases her, and when Kim goes to protest, she grinds down slightly, knowing exactly where it’ll cause friction. It has the desired effect, Kim moaning, her eyes fluttering shut slightly. Her hands are resting of Sylvie’s hips, and they go up then, stroking at the soft skin of her stomach.

“Bra, off. Now,” Kim says, running a hand along the edge of the bra. Sylvie grins wickedly at her, wondering why Kim ever thought she still had the upper hand, to doll out an order.

“Yes. That’s a good idea.” Sylvie shifts down Kim slightly, resting more weight on her own kneeled legs, allowing for Kim to sit up. The brunette clearly thinks it’s so she can help Sylvie with the bra, but Sylvie catches her hands, stopping her, and instead undoes Kim’s bra.

Sylvie’s never been intimate with a woman like this. There’s been those dreams—day dreams and actual dreams—that she spent a while trying to ignore, and thinking she’ll never act upon. But she’s never, physically, been with one and whereas her confidence has gotten her this far, she falters as Kim takes off her bra.

There’s that hesitation, that hesitation that she wants Kim—needs Kim—that this is exactly how she wants to explode tonight, but there’s that knowledge that she’s inexperienced in this, hitting her as she’s confronted with Kim’s naked chest.

“Is this too much?” Kim picks up straight away that Sylvie is having a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, turning concerned. “We can stop or just make out. Whatever you want—consent still applies with two women, y’know, and I won’t mind.”

Sylvie looks at her, Kim’s voice so gentle and caring, her big, brown eyes only filled with concerned, and something inside her throbs and Sylvie’s hesitation wears off as she realises that there’s nothing to be intimidated by, and Kim won’t mind if she has to guide her a little.

“Nah, I’m just taking your beauty in.” Sylvie jokes, before adding more seriously, “This is exactly what I want, Kim.”

“Good.” Kim smiles. “Because I’m feeling that we should even things here.”

Sylvie should’ve know that Kim would take off her bra as soon as she could, the brunette raking her eyes greedily over her body. She grabs at Sylvie’s thighs, positioning her in a way that she can sit on her and they can kiss with ease.

Kim doesn’t spend long kissing her lips before she’s travelling again, her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back as she kisses down her neck, collarbone, going between kisses and nips. Sylvie tries to adjust herself so that she can kiss the dip of Kim’s shoulder as she does so, but Kim tries her hardest to stop any attempts, not wanting to be restricted in her own explorations.

When Kim’s mouth gets to her chest, she pauses. Sylvie has barely any time to wonder what will happen next when Kim’s hand is palming one breast, making her gasp in surprise. The brunette lifts her mouth from her body, instead taking advantage of her agape mouth, kissing her deep. And then she’s moving them, laying Sylvie down, shifting who’s winning this lustful game of cat and mouse they’re playing.

Kim doesn’t straddle her like Sylvie did earlier, just making them vertical, Kim between her legs. She’s squeezing her breast again, and then her mouth is around the other’s nipple, rolling her tongue around it, and Sylvie lets out a loud moan she’d almost be embarrassed about if it didn’t feel so good. Kim works her like this for god knows how long before switching.

And then Kim is once again pulling away and Sylvie pouts, to Kim’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kim coos at her. “I’m just taking off your jeans so I can fuck you with my mouth.”

Sylvie never knew hearing Kim swear could sound so hot.

“Your jeans too. I was you as naked as I am,” She doesn’t know how she still has brain power to compose thoughts, focused so much on the needy ache in her body.

Kim steps off the bed so that she can shimmy off her jeans. Her panties match the bra she was wearing and Sylvie couldn’t even describe how much that made her desire spike. She wonders if Kim was working today and if she changed before going to Molly’s—curious to know if Kim wore such lacy stuff to work.

Surely not? Sylvie sure as hell doesn’t, let alone wearing a matching set.

“Like what you see?” Kim flirts before climbing back onto the bed, immediately getting to work on helping Sylvie get off her own jeans. There’s a moment when they’re off that Sylvie gets momentarily self conscious of her near-naked body, but then Kim’s running a finger along her panties again, pressing down on her clit through the fabric.

The sound it elicits from her is a mix between a gasp, moan and whine.

“Kim,” Sylvie practically begs as she releases the pressure, resuming to gentle barely there strokes as she returns her mouth to her breasts, collarbone and neck. Kim seems to get the message because then she’s—with skill that makes Sylvie wonder just how many times Kim has done this—hooking her fingers around her panties and taking them off.

She doesn’t hesitate to resume her actions, now without the fabric in the way. Kim dips a finger inside her, her thumb brushing against her clit with differentiating levels of pressure and Sylvie can’t help but shut her eyes and moan at the sensation, Kim working her with her talented fingers.

“You’re so wet,” Kim whispers into her ear, nibbling against her jawline before adding another finger. She laughs hotly against her as Sylvie tightens, squeezing Kim’s fingers. She’s just about used to the feeling, and the motions, a pressure inside her building, but then Kim’s pulling them out and she’s whining.

And then Kim’s pulling away from her, and Sylvie just about opens her eyes, lifting up her head, in time to see down her body, looking devilishly. And then Kim’s licking her and it’s everything she’s wanted, needed, and her head is falling back down. Kim works her with her mouth, and all Sylvie can think is about how indeed, Kim is mightily skilled with her tongue.

The tension in Sylvie builds quickly, fast approaching her orgasm, Kim lapping at her and using her fingers to add that extra sensation, rubbing and pinching, alternating between making she’s in place and fondling her breasts and Sylvie’s gripping at her covers, gasping and whining as she writhes, overwhelmed at the sensations.

All thoughts have left her mind, and all Sylvie can focus on is the quick approaching climax, not caring about how lost in it she must be—not caring how loud she’s being, how unfiltered and uncontrolled she is, just focused on how good Kim is making her feel.

And then she reaches her climax, Kim is taking her over and she gets her wish—it’s everything Sylvie has needed, and she screams, full of ecstasy, her body overcome with sensation, toes curling as she comes around Kim’s tongue, the brunette continuing to lap at her, guiding her through her orgasm.

“That...” Sylvie pants as soon as she can. “That—exactly what I needed.”

It’s not perfect grammar, but she thinks Kim gets it, if how she smiles and moves so she’s cuddling against Sylvie, is any indication.

#kim burgess #sylvie brett #chicago pd #Chicago fire #kim burgess x sylvie brett #Chicago pd fanfiction #Chicago fire fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #ree.smut #ree.wlw

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esmecvllens · 3 years

Note

Carlisle and Esme love language, I am rooting for this

this is a bit different than usually bc it’s in emmett’s pov, but I wanted to try something new. thank you for the request!

1936

Emmett stood in front of the big living room window, watching the world outside. It was a beautiful August, one of the hottest he could remember, and bright rays of the afternoon sun made the trees seem greener and the sky bluer. Outside, in the shadow of a willow tree, Esme was lying and reading a book. She had a short dress that's rolled up to her thighs, and her caramel hair fell onto her shoulders and neck. Someone - possibly Rosalie - plaited a few forget-me-nots into her hair. Emmett thought that she looked exceptionally pretty and petite, and he'd never before seen her like that.

Rosalie was nowhere to be found, probably working on her car in the garage or reading in her room, and Emmett felt a sting of disappointment in his chest. He'd been working up the courage to tell her how he felt about her for quite some time now, but there was never a good moment - with Rosalie, joyful days were outcounted by sad ones by lots. And whenever he wanted to confess to her, something stood in his way. But there would be time for that. He just had to be patient, and love her quietly in the meantime.

So in desperate attempts to stop thinking about Rosalie, Emmett had been spending a great amount of time observing his new family members. Not able to walk out of the house just yet, he had much time to do so, and there were so many tiny things to see. He noticed, for example, that Edward keeps his eyebrows frowned whenever he composes music. He observed that whenever Rosalie would feel sad, she'd work on the family cars - improving them, even though they didn't need it at all, and she liked to be alone. She would disappear for hours, and Emmett wanted to do something to ease her sorrow - anything, really - but he had no idea how to help. A bit starstruck by her intimidating presence and beautiful features, he wanted to let her know how much he cared about her, but couldn't gather the courage quite yet. He realized that he needed some help and insight on how to build a relationship with her, so he started seeking for an example within the healthiest couple he knew - his newfound parental figures. Having paid closer attention to them, he noticed how they were basically inseparable.

He noted that when Carlisle comes home from work, the first thing he does is welcoming Esme with a kiss. At first, Emmett thought it's a bit dumb - why repeat the exact same thing every day? But then, one time, he witnessed Esme running to the doorstep as she heard Carlisle's car on the driveway, and the sheer love and excitement in her eyes made him realize that maybe it's not stupid at all. Every day, they were both so happy to see each other as if they'd been separated for weeks, and Emmett thought that he wants Rosalie to react to him that way, too.

He also noted how they always keep close to each other. Carlisle usually kept one hand around her waist when they walked somewhere or had his hand on her knee when they sat together. His fingers would always find a way to touch her skin. Esme reached for his hand to hold all the time, and the looks they shared were sometimes so intimate Emmett had to turn his sight away. With not many words at all, it was obvious how much they loved each other. They made Emmett realize how important those simple gestures were, and he started doing so with Rosalie - nervous at first, he reached his hand out for her to catch as they were hunting, and she took it. If Emmett had a heart, it would have been racing quickly. He wanted them to have what Esme and Carlisle had one day, when Rosalie would be ready.

Outside, just as Emmett was thinking about him, Carlisle joined his wife under the willow tree, and Esme smiled at him so widely, Emmett wished to make Rosalie grin like that. They exchanged a few words, but Emmett started humming, trying not to hear them. He really wanted to give them the intimacy they deserved, especially after the latest incident in Carlisle's office. It taught Emmett to always, always knock before walking into Carlisle's study, and he learned it the hard way.

Carlisle laid beside Esme on his back, so close to her she began brushing her calf against his. He reached his hand out and started playing with her hair, wrapping her golden locks around his fingers. Esme tried to keep reading, but Emmett heard how she called him a terrible distraction, and they both laughed.

"I'm going to pretend that you watching them is not weird at all," Edward's voice suddenly rang out and he stood beside Emmett with his arms crossed on his chest. "Creep."

"I wasn't watching them," Emmett replied defensively, making Edward raise his eyebrows. "I was... thinking. About something."

"I know, I heard."

Emmett sighed - he kept forgetting that his thoughts weren't necessarily private anymore. His eyes flittered over at Esme and Carlisle again, but now Esme laid with her head on his chest and they talked quietly about something he'd rather not hear, anyway.

"Are they always like that?" Emmett asked his new brother, and Edward shrugged.

"I guess? Define what you mean by like that."

"They're always so... close," Emmett took his eyes off them and focused on Edward again. "Sometimes I get the impression that it's physically impossible for Carlisle to not be touching her somehow."

"Then yes, they're always like that."

"And how long have they been married?" Emmett asked casually, but really, he was wondering if that honeymoon phase would ever pass. He wasn't sure why he pretended, though. Edward had an unwanted insight into his brain, anyway.

"I don't think it will, not for them," Edward replied with his hands tied on his back, answering to his thoughts. "This December they will have been married for fifteen years, and not much has changed. Honestly, they were such a pain in the beginning. Listening to their thoughts was a never-ending doom."

"Why?" It felt odd to hear this about Esme and Carlisle - in Emmett's mind, they were always together. He couldn't even imagine them being uncomfortable with each other. He'd grown to the idea that they always keep close, and it felt odd to imagine them in the phase he and Rosalie were, but he felt like smiling. Maybe, one day, they would be as close and comfortable with each other as Carlisle was with Esme.

"They were both sure the other one doesn't reciprocate their feelings," Edward rolled his eyes. "It was a whole situation back then. And now they're like this. I guess it's because Carlisle isn't the best with words, so he prefers to show her."

After everything Rosalie had lost, Emmett wanted desperately to give her the kind of happy, long life that Carlisle had given Esme. He yearned to have it with her, because he knew that their future could be just as bright as their parents’. And maybe one day they would develop their own love language, special and reserved only for them. Emmett couldn't wait for that as he watched Carlisle and Esme laughing under the shadow of the weeping willow tree.

other fics / have a request?

#i would give up my life for emmett idk if its clear by now #weronika writes #twilight #twilight fanfiction #fanfiction #twilight renaissance #esme x carlisle #carlesme #rosalie x emmett #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #esme cullen #carlisle cullen

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butgilinsky · 4 years

Text

all i’ve ever wanted // np

warning; language, alcohol ig, angsty angst, not proofread bc fuck that

summary; the two of you were supposed to beat the odds, but that proves to be harder than you originally planned.

word count; 6.3k+

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

this wasn’t supposed to happen. not to the two of you. not like this. you and nolan were supposed to work through everything. you were supposed to beat the odds, supposed to go the distance. you were supposed to work through everything together, no matter how hard it got sometimes.

it wasn’t supposed to end. not ever, not now, and especially not like this.

you tried to tell yourself that you did everything you could’ve possibly done to make things work. you told yourself that you were trying, truly, but it just didn’t work for whatever reason.

things had been tough lately, for the both of you, separately and collectively. you didn’t thinks could get much harder than they had when you first moved to philadelphia. you had just overcome everyone in your life warning you about moving for a boy. they’d tell you to be careful, and you’d tell them the same thing every single time.

he’s not some guy i met in a bar one night. he’s nolan, and i can’t spend the rest of my life with him if we live in different continents.

and for the most part, that was true. you and nolan had known each other too long to even remember when you met each other. it felt like you had already spent an entire lifetime with nolan, so what was one more, really?

you didn’t realize that you’d end up here, three years later in the middle of an apartment that suddenly made your stomach twist uncomfortable as you drank through the suffocating thoughts swimming through your head. you didn’t know how long it had been since nolan left, but you knew that it had been a while. he left as the sun set, which you only knew because you remember the golden hue that peaked through the curtains and draped over his face beautifully. now it was dark, dark enough for the tv to be the only reason you could see the bottles of wine that laid across the coffee table.

you thought about everything that had happened between the two of you. you thought about the time he kissed you for the first time, how it felt like you were flying to finally feel his lips against yours. he had just taken you home after your group of friends had gone out for fries and milkshakes. you were smiling at him in a way that had him moving before he thought too much about it, kissing you over the center console of his car and gripping onto you like he’d never be able to kiss you again after this.

you thought about the time he was called to be captain of the wheat kings, and how nothing in the world had made him smile so wide. you remember the hug he gave you when he saw you, lifting you off of your feet with the momentum he built up as he ran over to you. his arms were wrapped so tightly around you you could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter when he smiled at you like that. nothing mattered when he smiled at you like that.

you thought about when he got drafted, how he never would’ve said it out loud, but being second pick wasn’t what he had built up for. he was excited to go to philly, but you knew he wanted that first pick title, even if he’d never say it.

you thought about when he asked you to move with him. he didn’t think he could do it without you, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to do anything without him. you remembered the grin that spread across his lips when you told him you would, that you wanted to do anything and everything with him, for the rest of your life.

you thought about the last few months, and how nolan had drifted away from you. how he pushed you away when all you wanted was to feel close to him again. you thought about how he would come home after long days and want nothing more than to just crawl into bed and fall asleep. you’d let him, because all you wanted was for him to be happy.

you thought about how he left a few hours ago, telling you to not expect him back for the rest of the night. you thought about how your heart shattered into a million, unrecoverable pieces when he told you that he couldn’t do this anymore. that he couldn’t be with you anymore.

you thought about how everyone told you to not move for him. they told you to wait until you were sure, until there was a ring on your finger that told you that the two of you would be together. and then you thought about how you didn’t listen to any of them because this was nolan, and you were more sure about him than you were about anything else in your entire life.

you thought about how you should’ve listened to them.

you didn’t move when the lock clicked or when the knob turned, not even when the door was shoved open and the light in the entry way turned on. you couldn’t move, couldn’t turn to face anyone that was walking in through the door because if it was nolan, you were sure to fall apart in your place on the couch.

you thought nolan walking through the door would’ve been the worst case scenario, but the look on travis’s face was far worse than anything you could’ve thought up in that moment.

the look of sympathy draped across his face had you crumbling in seconds, your chest caving in as you lost your breath completely. sobs raked through you so quickly that you couldn’t even try to stop them. travis was on the couch in seconds, letting you fall into his chest as he did his best to console you, but he knew that nothing he could do would be enough.

he didn’t know what happened, just that nolan was an idiot to give up on what the two of you had built. he’d been in philadelphia for almost four years now, and you’d been there every single step of the way. you’d built a life here, and you were considering throwing it all away now.

you couldn’t be in this city if nolan was here. nolan was the only reason you moved here, and the biggest reason you stayed after all this time. everything in this city reminded you of him, and he had you thinking of the easiest way to move back to winnipeg. but then you realized that that everything there would remind you of him, that nowhere was fresh of nolan. everywhere, everything reminded you of him.

“i can’t stay here, tk.” it took an hour for you to finally speak. your voice was hoarse, and it hurt your throat, but you had to say it.

“i’d offer you my place, but” you nodded, knowing that that was the first place nolan would’ve found refuge in. you appreciated the gesture, but you weren’t sure that travis’s apartment would’ve felt any better.

“i mean philly. i don’t know if i can stay here.” travis sucked in a sharp breath when the realization dawned on him.

he didn’t know the magnitude of everything that had happened. nolan had been less than explanatory when he showed up at travis’s apartment hours ago, muttering just enough for travis to realize what was going on. of course he’d let nolan stay there for as long as he wanted to, but he was hoping that there was a way for the two of you to fix this. you had to fix this. it was you and nolan. he hadn’t known either of you separately, only together. he had a friendship with both of you, but the other was always a part of your personality.

and now, all of that was changing.

he tried to talk you out of it, tried to tell you that this was irrational thinking and you were just running away from something that wasn’t certain just yet. he told you that the wine had you thinking irrationally, that you were acting impulsively and there were so many things you had to think about before you packed up your entire life and fled the city you’d made home.

but that was the thing. the only thing that made philadelphia feel like home was nolan. he was the only reason you felt at peace here, and that all changed the moment he walked out earlier.

i can’t do this anymore, y/n. i can’t be with you anymore.

you replayed the words over and over again, reminding yourself that this was real, and it was happening. you listened to travis talk you out of it, listened to him insist that there was a different way to go about this entire situation.

truthfully, travis didn’t want to lose you. he had built a solid friendship with you. there were things that you helped him with that nolan couldn’t. he saw you as so much more than nolan’s girlfriend, and he found himself growing a ball of animosity in his chest towards his best friend for ruining this.

he gave up when you paused your packing, looking at him with teary eyes and a wobbling bottom lip. he listened to you say that you would fall apart if you tried to stay here. he listened when you said that you already called your boss, you had already asked for a transfer, and though she was confused, she told you she’d work on it.

travis hadn’t realized there had been enough time for you to truly think all of this through and make arrangements already, but you did. so he let you pack, even helped you when you asked for him to hand you things on the opposite side of the room.

you were digging through your closet, looking for anything that couldn’t be left behind when you felt the small box in the palm of your hand. your body stilled, your heart thudding against your chest harshly as you pulled it out of the back of your closet with shaky fingers and eyes that filled to the brim with tears once more.

“tk.” the broken tone had him crossing the room in seconds, reaching for you in confusion and worry before his eyes landed on the small box.

“give it to me.” you hadn’t opened it yet, you weren’t sure if you could. if you opened it, it made it real. if you opened it, you’d have too many questions that you weren’t sure you’d ever get answers to. “y/n, give me the box.”

“is there a ring inside of this?” you looked at travis, watching the way his eyes fell to his feet for a moment as he looked for the right words. “how long has he had this?”

“y/n-”

“how long, travis?” your voice dropped to a tone that travis hadn’t heard in a long time. a tone you reserved for when things were unmistakably bad, toeing the line of irreversible.

“a few months.” your eyes moved back to the box, taking in the way that the velvet felt against your skin before travis was covering it with his own hand and taking it from you.

he was surprised when you sniffled, pushed your shoulders back and went back to packing as if you hadn’t just found a box that undoubtedly held an engagement ring inside of it. an engagement ring that should’ve been on your finger, should’ve been committed to your memory by now. an engagement ring you’d never get to see.

an engagement ring that would never belong to you.

he took you to the airport after you’d packed everything you thought you’d need for now. he promised to send the rest of your things as soon as you told him where you were going, though he immediately regretted agreeing to not tell nolan wherever you’d end up.

you hugged him before going through security, thanking him for everything he had done for you tonight and every day that you’d been in philadelphia. as much as you told yourself you would’ve never gotten here without nolan, you knew that the sentiment reached out for travis as well.

“hey.” you tugged on his shirt sleeve softly, bringing his attention back up to you for a moment. “just because nolan and i-” you bit your bottom lip when it started to wobble, doing your best to keep your tears at bay for the first time tonight. “you and i are still good. we’re still friends. you don’t have to choose.”

he smiled then, hugging you tighter than he’d ever hugged you before. then you were turning and walking away, leaving him to sulk on the way back to his car. when he got home he made no effort to be quiet, slamming every door and dropping everything to the ground with no mind at how loud he was being.

“tk, shut up.” nolan groaned, rolling over on the couch that was far less comfortable than the bed he should’ve been in back at his apartment.

“fuck off, pat. go home if you want to bitch at me.”

“you know i can’t go home, teeks-”

“she’s not there.” nolan sat up then, adjusting his eyes to the light that had been off just moments ago before he settled on travis. “she left.”

his mind raced, thoughts too loud for him to think straight. he knew he was the one that walked out, he was the one that broke up with you, but he hadn’t expected you to leave so quickly. he didn’t think you had anywhere to go, anyone to stay with. that’s why he left, that’s why he-

“she flew back home, pat. she’s gone.”

he’d never admit that his heart sank into his stomach, that he felt defeated over the thought that you had upped and left before the sun could set and rise. he didn’t realize you were capable of leaving so quickly, that you were capable of leaving at all.

“and she found the ring.” travis knew what he was doing as he fired off bits of information that nolan had no business knowing. he didn’t need to know that you flew home, or that you found the ring he bought for you while you packed your things. he didn’t need to know, but now he did. and he didn’t know if he wanted to know.

travis left the room after that, leaving nolan wide awake in the middle of the night as he rethought everything he’d done in the past few hours. everything he’d done in the past few months.

he didn’t know why he was drifting from you, why he allowed himself to do that. he never wanted to live without you. a life without you is a life he never wanted to be a part of, but he had just solidified that life for himself. he walked out on you, and now he was feeling the weight of it all crashing down onto him.

he thought about the look on your face when he said it, when he reached for his keys and turned to leave the apartment. he remembered your eyes filled to the brim with tears that you wouldn’t dare spill, and the way you were chewing so hard on your bottom lip that he thought you would draw blood.

he thought about how defeated you looked over the last few weeks, every time you’d reach out to him and he’d deny you. he thought about how you’d roll over to the edge of your side of the bed, clutching onto your pillow in search of the comfort he no longer gave you.

he thought about how things used to be so easy, how it used to be different. nothing used to feel like this, especially not with you. he found himself excited for roadies, and dreading the return home, and he had no idea why. it was supposed to be how it was when you were back in winnipeg. he was supposed to want nothing more than to feel how he would when he would come home from brandon, or when you’d drive out to him.

he thought about when he bought the ring a few months back. he thought about thinking that you were going to love it, that he was going to love asking you to marry him and hoping more than anything that you’d say yes. he wondered how things changed after that, how things ended up the way that they were now when they were so good not too long ago.

the sun rose before his thoughts allowed him the time to breathe. he was drowning in himself, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it. he did this. he walked out on you and now he was dealing with the repercussions.

he expected travis to be cold when he woke up, shocked to see travis shooting him a sympathetic smile when he told nolan it was time to leave for practice. he was even more surprised when he offered to go up to his apartment with him to grab his stuff before heading to the rink.

it was six months before you saw him again. you had avoided him when both of you were in winnipeg, denying invitations from your friends in order to give nolan time with them. you didn’t want to be in the same place as him, but you weren’t going to make it difficult for him to see his friends in the short time he’d be home.

you thought new york was big enough. you thought it would give you great odds at not seeing him. you stayed away from every ice rink in new york, feeling nausea bubble up at the thought of stepping foot anywhere near anything that could remotely remind you of hockey.

you knew he’d be in town. the flyers were playing the islanders, but you thought that gave you enough distance between the two of you. you thought you had done everything right up until now. you didn’t call or text him, you didn’t keep up with his stats or the flyers at all. your extent of flyers knowledge came from occasional conversations with travis, where nolan was strategically left on a list of topics you weren’t allowed to bring up.

the odds of seeing him had to be one in a million. it should’ve been nearly impossible for him to end up here, in the same building as you, but it happened.

you felt the wind being knocked out of you when your eyes met his. you stood on opposite sides of the room, neither of you making a move towards or away from one another. your muscles tensed, your mind racing so fast it made you dizzy, but you didn’t dare break eye contact with him.

his hair was shorter, his arms slightly bigger. he looked good, really good. you scolded yourself for thinking such a thing, but it was true. nolan always looked good, and you guessed that the last six months had ended with him channeling things into working out, because he looked too good to be doing the same thing he’d been doing for the past five years.

you only tore your eyes away from him when a hand gripped your elbow softly, pulling your attention away from nolan and over to brady, who was glancing down at you with worry pulling at his features.

“you okay?” you looked back in the direction nolan was just in, finding it empty as he had seemingly disappeared. you looked around for a minute, trying to find out if you had been seeing things or if that had truly just happened. “y/n.”

“yeah, yeah. sorry, just, saw someone i used to know.” he gave you a confused look but nodded, handing you the drink he had just ordered for you before pulling you back in the direction of your friends.

you hadn’t seen nolan after that, hadn’t even heard from him. you did, however, check the score of the flyers v. isles game, and smiled when you saw they had won. you found yourself flicking through the details of the game, and smiling wider at the fact that nolan had scored two of the five goals in the game, and had another assist to tack onto it.

you found yourself falling into more bad habits, like watching flyers games when you were home with nothing else to do, ignoring the fact that you had made sure you had no plans on specific nights. you kept up with nolan’s game as loosely as you could, trying not to throw yourself into a pit of despair over a boy you hadn’t spoken to in over six months.

a few months later you found yourself at home, lying across your parents’ couch while your family spoke animatedly about a movie you hadn’t seen. you laughed at one liners your sister would throw in, and rolled your eyes when your brother and your dad argued about if the original or the sequel was better.

then your phone rang, and you were unsure of what to expect but you answered anyways. you told yourself you couldn’t do it, that you shouldn’t do it. there was little room for you to do such a thing without tripping over yourself all over again, but you found yourself grabbing your keys and saying goodbye to your parents before you could think about it too much.

you weren’t dressed to be at the lake, not even slightly, but you couldn’t find yourself to care as you spotted the familiar car parked next the rest of your friends’. the same car he kissed you in for the first time, and the same car he would continue to kiss you in for years to come.

you shut off your car and stepped out before you could convince yourself to turn around. you pulled your jeans up over your hips and shut the door, grabbing the attention of the few that were on the same side of the lake that you had just pulled up to.

“y/n!” you smiled at your friends, offering them a wave and a light greeting.

you offered a small amount of small talk before your eyes found the person you’d come for, sitting on a blanket you recognized within seconds all by himself.

“go talk to him.”

your feet carried you over, stopped only once more by the sound of your name that had you laughing gently as you waved across the water before finally standing in front of the blanket you were headed for.

“do you have room for one more?” his lips pulled into a smile when he nodded, giving you the room to sit beside him.

he didn’t know how to feel about the way your jeans brushed against the side of his knee. the rough material was almost uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to move away from you. he wanted you as close to him as you would allow him to be, and the fact that it was close enough for your legs to bump against one another brought a warmth to his chest that he hadn’t felt in what felt like forever.

“why are you sitting over here by yourself?” he found himself smiling at the sound of your voice, almost not registering your question as he felt honored just hearing you speak to him after all this time.

“not in the mood to socialize i guess.” he shrugged gently, and you rolled your eyes.

“winnipeg nolan is far more outgoing than you’re giving yourself credit for.” he laughed gently at the name, forgetting how you used to tease him about his separation between his life in winnipeg and his life in philadelphia.

“philly nolan is an idiot.” his voice was soft, but you heard him. he could tell by the way you sucked in your cheek to chew on it lightly. “you’ll chew another hole through your cheek if you keep doing that.”

you laughed then, releasing your cheek from the grip of your teeth as you thought back on the memory he dug out of your subconscious. it was before you were dating, when you had to get a root canal and your mouth was so numb that you chewed a hole through your cheek without realizing it.

it was nice to be able to act like things were normal, even if it was only for a minute. it felt like nothing bad had happened, like you hadn’t left so many things unsaid when he walked out of the apartment and you left philadelphia. it felt like things were almost how they used to be, and neither of you wanted to shift it in the direction that it needed to go.

“how’s new york?” the corner of your mouth tugged up gently, but it fell a few moments later, not being able to find too much serenity in the reminder that he had seen you just a few months back.

“hectic.” you breathed out, bringing your knees up to your chest before you wrapped your arms around them.

"and your boyfriend?” your eyebrows pulled together, confusion evident in your features when you turned to meet his eyes. but then it sunk in, and your mouth shot up into a wide smile before a laugh was falling past your lips.

you fell back onto the blanket, eyes screwed shut as you tried to muffle your laughter underneath the palm of your hand. when you came down, nolan was staring at you curiously, unsure of what spurred your laughing fit.

“brady? i’m not exactly his type.” you shook your head, still laughing gently. nolan rolled his eyes, breathing out a gentle sigh before speaking up.

“well that sucks for him. i don’t know a single person that wouldn’t jump at the opportunity-”

“brady’s gay, nol.” his lips clamped shut, forming a thin line before he breathed out a gentle laugh of his own.

“well that’s embarrassing.” his cheeks turned pink as he faced away from you, trying to focus back on anything other than the way he just made a fool of himself in front of you.

you lifted your hand up to his elbow and gripped it gently, grabbing his attention before pulling on it just enough to get him to lie back with you. he set the bottle he was nursing aside and faced the sky, your knees and elbows bumping as the two of you tried to avoid the grass.

“dragon.” you said softly, hearing nolan scoff in return. the sound alone made you smile, feeling like things were as simple as they used to be.

“no way you see a dragon from that.” you laughed softly, a sound nolan was scared he’d never hear again. “it’s a spaceship, for sure.”

“bullshit!”

the two of you argued over cloud shapes for a few minutes until a thick silence fell over you. neither of you wanted to bring it up first, but you knew it had to come up at some point. the whole reason you were called here was to talk to him, and though you had been doing that, you were avoiding the inevitable.

“do you want to go for a drive?” you turned towards him, your faces closer than you expected them to be.

your noses almost brushed against each other, and you watched the way nolan’s eyes fell to your lips for a moment longer than they should have. it brought a familiar feeling to your stomach, a feeling you had never felt with anyone besides nolan.

“yeah.” you breathed softly, telling yourself to move from this position before you pushed your lips against his, but you didn’t move a muscle.

“we can’t go on a drive if you don’t move.” he whispered, and watched you roll your eyes but smile regardless.

“you haven’t moved either.” he laughed gently then, and despite everything in him telling him to just stay still, to wait for your move, he pulled himself up onto his feet and offered you his hands.

you gripped onto them, pulling yourself up to your feet with ease. you stood chest to chest for a moment, closer than you had been just a minute ago.

“we should go.” you nodded, but waited for him to take a step back, his hands falling from yours as he grabbed the bag he brought and fished his keys out of it.

you followed him to the car, ignoring the looks you were getting from all of your friends as you reached for the handle. you didn’t ask where you were going, and you truly didn’t care. being in this car, beside nolan, was enough for you, even if it wasn’t going to end the way you so desperately wished it would.

he kept both of his hands on the steering wheel, something he rarely ever did. his knuckles turned white, and you could tell he was fighting the urge to reach out to you. you weren’t sure he even knew how to keep his hands to himself when the two of you were alone. nolan wasn’t a big pda guy, but when you were alone, he practically always had a hand on you.

you smiled when you noticed the familiar path, beginning to guess every turn before he took it, only to end up in the place you had predicted. the small park had been a place the two of you visited from a young age, but the small path behind it was where you went when you got to old to use the slides or the swings.

“i haven’t been here in such a long time.” you said it more to yourself, but the smile that didn’t reach nolan’s eyes told you he heard you.

“neither have i.” it shocked you, though it probably shouldn’t have. why would he have come here? it was built for kids. not for 22 year old NHL players.

you sat on a bench, talking about what your lives looked like now, though you both knew where this conversation would end up at some point. he talked about the team, talked about how they were doing and the games he missed due to his injuries, and you offered him a warm, sympathetic smile.

you were confused when he stood up and told you he wanted to show you something before walking back to the car. you watched him dive into the backseat before shoving something in his pocket and walking back over to you.

you were getting nervous, especially when you saw the look on his face when he sat back beside you. you sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the familiar bow out of is pocket, twirling it around in his hand as his eyes avoided yours.

“i think i psyched myself out. i think i let myself believe that this is what you needed, that it’s what you wanted. i told myself it’s what i wanted, and it was, it is, but i let it get to my head.” your eyes watched his fingers fiddle with the small box until he turned to you, your eyes meeting as he wore a soft smile.

“i told myself that this is what was next, and if i couldn’t give it to you then i wasting your time.”

“you were never wasting my time.” you found your voice finally, feeling the cut wrenching feeling from that night come back, though it was much duller now than it had been then.

“i fucked up. i fucked it all up.” you sighed softly, not finding the words that you knew you should’ve told him. because in all honesty, he did fuck it all up, and he was scared there wouldn’t be a chance to redeem himself.

“i never told you we had to get married, nol.”

“i know, i know. i wanted to, i really did, but then i got scared, i guess. i stressed myself out with the entire idea of marriage and how it would’ve changed things and then i fucked it all up.” you bit on the inside of your cheek, letting your shoulders relax as you listened to him explain what was going on inside of his head when he walked out on you.

“i wanted to marry you. i want to marry you. i’ve never wanted that with anybody else in my entire life, and i don’t think i ever will. i know i won’t. i know it sounds crazy, and we’re still so young, and now we’ve been separated for what feels like years, but-” he paused, reaching up to tug on his hair gently before letting out a heavy sigh.

“but?” he looked up at you, his eyes connecting with yours and sending shock waves through you before taking a deep breath.

“but all i want is you. i wake up, and i hope that by some stroke of luck, you’ll be beside me. i come home from roadies and i hope that for some reason, you’ll be sitting in the living room, waiting for me. i hope that you’ll show up one day because i don’t have the courage to do it myself. i hope that even though i fucked everything up, that i’ll find a way to fix it. because all i want, all i’ve ever wanted, is you.”

your chest tightened with every word, your eyes building up the same dam of tears they had back in philly.

“and i know you live in new york now, and i don’t expect you to leave all of that behind, but i don’t think i can keep this to myself anymore, y/n.” you nodded slowly, watching him push the box open with the pad of his thumb.

the audible gasp that left you pulled confusion out of him. he watched you stare at the ring, so delicately placed in the middle of the base of the box.

"you seem surprised.” he spoke through a small laugh, and you tried to sniffle in hopes that it would keep your tears at bay.

“i’m not surprised, i’m just, wow. nolan, this is fucking gorgeous.”

“tk said you found it before you left.” you let out a soft laugh as you reached up to wipe the wetness out of your eyes.

“i didn’t open it.” you shook your head gently as you looked back at him, watching realization dawn on him once more.

“i know it’s a lot to ask, especially after all this time. we live in different places, and maybe it’ll be harder now than it ever has been, but i need to ask. i need to ask because i want to try, y/n. fuck being scared, fuck what people think. i don’t care about anything of that shit anymore. i want you, all of you. i want the life we were meant to have, and i’ll do everything it takes to get there.”

you were crying, but you were smiling, which made nolan smile. he reached for your cheeks, wiping the wet trails off of your skin before resting his forehead against yours.

“nolan.” you gripped his wrist in your hand gently and felt him pull back to look at you, his eyes burning into yours. “i want all of that, more than anything, but i can’t pretend like all of this shit didn’t happen. i can’t jump straight back into it, no matter how badly i want to.”

he nodded, a gentle smile playing at his lips before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“we don’t have to pick up where we left off. i’d actually prefer it if we didn’t, but i want to work towards it. i want to marry you, even if it’s ten years from now.” you let out a small laugh, one that made his smile reach further up on his cheeks.

“i’d really like that.” you spoke softly before a pair of lips were pressed against yours.

you tried not to let yourself melt too far into it, tried to keep your feet flat on the ground, but that was impossible with nolan’s lips pressed against yours. when his lips touched yours, you lived in a world where nothing bad ever happened. it felt like everything was right, everything was whole.

he pulled back far too soon, but when he pressed another soft kiss to your lips, much quicker than the last, and pressed his forehead against yours, you seceded.

“will you still take the ring? i want you to have it.” you laughed softly and nodded, holding out your hand for him to slip it onto your finger.

you melted at the sight of nolan sliding a dainty ring onto your finger before lifting your hand and kissing your knuckles softly. it was a sight you hoped you’d see one day, even if this is how it happened.

“what happens when we do get engaged? do i have to give it back to you?” he laughed, a real, guttural laugh that had your heart absolutely soaring.

“i’ll get you another one.”

“oh god, am i going to be one of those girls with rings on all of her fingers?” you whined, not wanting to end up with a ring for every time nolan made a mistake, but it just made him laugh and pull you over into his lap.

“just the two. and a wedding band. you’re obviously getting a wedding band.” you rolled your eyes but reached out, cupping his face in your hands before pressing a kiss to his lips again.

“i love you.” he smiled widely against your lips, thinking that he had never missed a simple phrase so much in his entire life.

“i love you so much.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him impossibly closer. “we’ll figure everything out, right?”

you smiled and nodded, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the skin of his cheek.

“we’ll figure it all out.”

nolpat taglist; @extratragic @shelbsays @teenagekook @stfukie @kiedhara

#nolan patrick #nolan x reader #nolan patrick x reader #flyers #nhl #philadelphia flyers #nhl fic #hockey fic

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elriel-oblivion · 3 years

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In Defence of Elriel (I suppose bc I don't really know what this post is lol)

I've been thinking about how elriel are actually such a wonderful ship in my eyes. Of course, I'm biased to them at this point, but a lot of people say Elain and Azriel don't fit well since neither would help the other grow because they'd be a boring couple who don't talk or do anything interesting. And I have two thoughts on that: (this is not against elucien in any way, it's just in favour of elriel 😅😅)

First, we've barely seen them as characters, and not even from their own povs, so I don't think it's fair to judge what they can and can't do for one another just yet 😅

Second, from the few tidbits we have seen, Elain - for all the meekness and passivity everyone seems to associate her with - seems to be one of the only people who can get straight through to Az on another level without trying or making him uncomfortable.

She gives love so freely, it's natural to her to show kindness, so I doubt she thought twice or felt hesitation when she called Az's hands beautiful. And I doubt people generally have the guts to comment on his hands in his presence anyway.

Not to mention the blush that blossomed on his cheeks straight after. To me, it sounds like he doesn't get genuine compliments much, and most people fear him anyway, so imagine drawing attention to a part of himself he's insecure about, a part he can't even hide because it's on full display. I don't think that's an easy feat, especially for someone who's barely acquainted with him. So for Elain, this fawn-like girl, to comment - breathe - about his scars so easily, like she was looking at a piece of art, isn't something that should be overlooked, in my opinion. She saw beauty in him from the get go where he sees none.

Then there's her Solstice gift to him. Not only was she observant enough to notice his headaches, but even Feyre mentioned she hadn't heard such a laugh from Azriel before. A laugh in response to Elain. Elain seems to have this effect on him whereby he experiences emotions he usually wouldn't show or let himself feel; I feel as though she untangles something inside him in a way nobody else has done before, and it'd be interesting to see this opposite given the way we saw Rhys help Feyre feel again.

Her interactions with him are so effortless and natural, yet they hint at her ability to see through his cold stone mask and unravel some warmth in him. I think she would be able to show him what love is, all different types, the beautiful and the gritty because she's not only not afraid to get her hands dirty, but she's also strong enough to own up to her mistakes. I feel like she could definitely push back if she thought Azriel was doing something that didn't align with her values - but that's more something I hope to see as part of her character growth out of the passive archetype and into the type of person who learns and knows themselves and isn't afraid to stand up for themselves and their beliefs. As it is, we've already seen Elain display these traits in trickles before, what with her fervour in protecting the humans any way she could.

On the flip side, Azriel actually sees Elain for Elain. Barely anyone sees her, and she knows it too, given how she mentioned it so morosely in ACOWAR. But Az noticed her from the start, from that fork she gripped like a weapon, to her seer abilities. He's the only one who didn't think she was mad - perhaps, save for Nuala and Cerridwen - the only one who is attentive to her needs and willing to help her.

He opens her up during a time when she's completely closed off to the world and probably even herself. She doesn't even understand what's going on in her mind when he reaches a hand through all that chaos with a guiding light and everything just clicks. She still probably wouldn't have a clue she's a seer without Azriel. He asks the right questions, looks at her without judgement and holds her in this space of comfort she doesn't seem to find elsewhere.

And he doesn't seem to harbour any prejudice against her, not even when they first met. He was polite, by nature presumedly, but Cassian's and Rhysand's comments about Nesta's and Elain's lack of support for Feyre weren't ever seconded by Azriel. I'm sure that lack of judgement doesn't go unnoticed by her and serves to make her feel even more comfortable in his presence.

Do I even need to mention when he risked his neck to save her from the Hybern camp? 😅 By this point, he still barely knew her, yet he was instantaneous and steadfast in his decision to get her back. If he can display that kind of support for her even when they're little more than strangers, then it's a wonder how ardent, unrestrained and free he'd be in his love in an open, mutual relationship with her. Of course, that would depend on his growth too, which is why I think they'd work so well together, he learning to love himself and give his love more freely and she learning to take on life with a bit more verve.

Perhaps he wouldn't be the person to push her and tease her the way Rhys and Cassian do to Feyre and Nesta, but Elain is a completely different strain from her sisters; there's always been a stark contrast that Feyre notes repeatedly through the series between Elain and her siblings. So I think it unfair to expect the same arc for Elain and her relationships. Maybe she just needs someone to listen to her, not play and get under her skin to elicit a reaction. And so far, Azriel and the shadow twins seem to be the only ones capable of truly doing so.

He even gave her his own blade, a possession he hadn't let anybody else really touch. And with it, whether she thought she'd do anything or not, she managed to save the fates of her sister and his brother. If that doesn't say he sees her, or sees something in her, then I don't know what does.

So I would love to see Elain and Azriel push and pull at each other, but not in this chaotic, hate-to-love trope we keep seeing in the series. I think they would wind and untangle and bloom different parts of the other whilst working through the forests of their own souls, teaching each other when to cut away one thorn and healing through the pain of another. I imagine their relationship would be like tending a garden, with care and love and a capability for seeing the beauty within the soil, the beauty that could be with the right nurture. Yes, there would be blood, sweat and tears, but ultimately, the reward would be worth the hard work. Because both have a lot of darkness on the inside that's buried so deep, both have tangled histories to sort through, yet both see the other, see potential, in ways nobody else does. And I think it would be lovely to see them grow on that journey together 🥰

Okay, so maybe a little more than two thoughts haha 😅 But most of this is just an extension of that second thought 😅 Also, this is my first ever written post on tumblr after thousands of reblogs so 🎉 to me lol. And it's four am so if I made any mistakes about the canon, please tell me so I can correct them 😅😅

#elriel #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #acowar #acomaf #acofas

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ffwriterbts · 3 years

Text

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 5

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :)

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story!

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: General angst; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint: seriously if you aren’t into angst don’t read this bc :)))) it’s angsty

Posted: 16 Jan 2021

Tag List: @happynightmareprincess

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When YN woke up, swaddled in the softness of Jimin’s sweater, with Yoongi’s hoodie balled up in her arms, the teddy that Hobi got her resting next to her head, the light was streaming through the curtains. The scents of the three boys swirled around her in a way that was so familiar, so calming, that she almost forgot that she wasn’t still with them.

Sighing, she rolled over, opening her eyes properly for the first time. A deep sort of disappointment settled into an ever-growing pit in her stomach as her eyes flitted across her own bedroom for the first time in months.

Sadness hits her like a wave, slamming into her with an unknown, unrelenting force that left her gasping for air.

Wimpers fell from her lips as she curled into herself, not wanting to get up. All YN really wanted to do was to do was seek out the same comfort she had been getting when she was with them.

YN buries her face in Yoongi’s hoodie, willing herself not to cry anymore. Rationally, she knew she shouldn’t feel so bad. She knew she shouldn’t be so hard on herself, shouldn’t let the pit of hurt and anger in her chest rule her actions.

But honestly, YN wasn’t thinking rationally. She wasn’t removing herself from her feelings like she had done for the entirety of her life. She wasn’t putting the reminders of the boys she had called housemates and friends for the past two months out of sight.

Instead, YN just squeezed her eyes closed, ignoring the gaping hole in her chest and breathing in the scent of the boys that swirled around her.

It was because of this deep pain that YN took almost two hours to rouse herself out of bed. It would have taken even longer, but eventually nature calls and hunger gnaws at you so much you have to eat something, even if you don’t really want to.

YN trudged her way to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. The small teddy that Hoseok had gotten her was held tightly to her chest as she stumbled around her house, the ever-so-soft material of Jimin’s sweater feeling almost scratchy against her sensitive skin.

She was cold. In fact the whole house was absolutely freezing, but she couldn’t bring herself to wrap up in a blanket or put on real pants. Looking through the kitchen, she quickly realized that she didn’t have much in the way of food she could eat without much hassle.

Shivering, YN ran a hand through her hair, grabbing a small bag of some snack food she had never seen before and stumbling her way to the study she found so much comfort in. Absently, she opened the snack, nibbling on it and tasting nothing.

Silently, YN thanked herself for setting up her laptop in its usual spot the day before. She knew the only thing that she’d be able to do for a while would be to write something terribly sad and angsty.

And that’s exactly what she did. She nibbled on the snack, which she eventually realized was one of the things that Jin and Yoongi had brought to her home on the day of the attack, typing away furiously as she tried to express the emotions that were swirling around inside of her.

She didn’t remember grabbing a bottle of water, but there was one on her desk when she withdrew from her typing enough to realize she was thirsty. She chugged it like she had never had water before in her life, staring vacantly at the computer screen. The words she had been writing for god knows how long swirled before her eyes as she realized just how tired she actually was.

She stood with a groan, her back feeling more stiff than it had in months. YN pulled the sleeves of the sweater down over her hands, picking up the teddy from its place next to her computer and clutching it to her chest again. She went straight back to her room, shivering as she slid her feet across the cold floors, longing for the warmth of another body to sedate the chill that seemed to have settled in her bones.

She felt like she was floating now, the same hole bleeding in her chest as the pain turns to a sort of uncomfortable numbness. Her whole body felt like it had just frozen in place with no room for emotions, good or bad.

Snidely, she thought about the way the boys would come to her with worry etched on their beautiful faces if they had been close enough to her that they could feel her emotions. As strange as it was to get used to in the beginning, having seven other people who could instantly tell when you’re having a bad day, YN actually really enjoyed feeling known like that.

She liked that they would ask her what was wrong and actually listen. She liked that they would shake their heads at her when they realized she just had forgotten to eat lunch and was grumpy because of that. She liked that each of them would approach her negative emotions differently, having their own ways to distract her and make her feel better. Whether it was because her injuries were particularly bad or because she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they were there to cheer her up in their own special ways.

They were bitter, the memories swirling around her head. YN buried herself under the blankets of her bed, cold settling in her bones as she held Yoongi’s hoodie to her cheek.

She thought of how Jin would sigh at her, shaking his head and telling her to go get Yoongi, the three of them were going to try out this new recipe that was too complicated for just one person to make. He never expected her to talk to him, but was always a sympathetic ear when she decided to open up.

She thought of how Yoongi had found her one too many times, sitting on the couch in his studio long after everyone else had gone to bed, typing away on her computer like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He’d never say much then, instead clearing his throat and suggesting they both go to bed, closing the laptop with one hand and helping her up with the other. He’d give her a soft, gummy smile and open the doors for her, easily lifting her off her feet if she was having pain or trouble with her ankle. What she wouldn’t give now, to be carried to her room by Yoongi and told to get some sleep for once by the man who never seemed to sleep at night.

She thought about her energetic discussions with Namjoon about topics she really cared about, and how he would seat himself across from her in the library when she’d been reading for a little too long, drawing her out of her reprieve with discussion. His eyes would crinkle slightly at the sides, gleaming as his dimple was on full display at her becoming more and more passionate, forgetting whatever had been on her mind before, even if just for a few minutes.

She thought of how, whenever Hobi would notice her getting restless, he would ask her questions about what kind of music he should try dancing to next, or about what kind of interesting dances he should rope Jimin and Jungkook into doing with him. He would give that sunshine smile to her as she gave him ideas, making her feel like she really mattered.

She thought of how Jimin would try to curl his much bigger body into her lap, careful not to put too much pressure on her bad leg, just in case. He would snuggle her, usually half smothering her with praise and questions until she was laughing again. He would always plant a kiss on her forehead before he got up again, chattering away about how she “just needed some Jimin cuddles” with the biggest smile on his face.

She thought of how Taehyung would pick her up every time he caught her hobbling from room to room, chastising her in a half-joking, half-serious way for walking when they all knew she wasn’t supposed to be. Every time, her ears would get hot as she mumbled an excuse about not wanting to bother anyone or not really being in pain, even though it sent shots of agony up her leg every time she tried to walk until just two weeks before she left the house. Taehyung would just shake his head, his voice reverberating through her chest as he told her that he was her “trusty steed” and that he took his duties very seriously.

And she thought of Jungkook, the one she was closest in age to, who was still awkward around emotions. He would offer her up some of whatever snack he was having, and insist that they go play another round of whatever game he had decided was his favorite for the time being. He never asked what was wrong, or why she didn’t feel good, instead he quietly tried to take her mind off of it, which she appreciated.

YN cried herself to sleep again that night.

~~~~~~

The week passed torturously slow. YN was in a depressive spiral, freezing cold despite the warmth of her home, swaddled in blankets and clutching onto the things that she had been left like they were her saving graces. The boys felt disjointed, like they had a part of them ripped away and it made everything more difficult to do for them.

As much as it had pained them, they kept true to Namjoon’s plan and didn’t go anywhere near YN for the entirety of the week, trying to be sure that YN was what she seemed to be. If their week was any indication, they had found a lost Omega.

Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had spent most of the week trying (and failing) to convince Namjoon to let them be the ones to patrol over where YN lived. Namjoon was able to see right through this though, telling them to stay away from there and that he would be the only one that goes over into that part of their territory until the week is up.

Begrudgingly, they listen. Though not without trying to convince Hoseok to do their dirty work for them, which he refused.

When it came to the week being done, they had their answer. YN had to either be one of the lost or she was able to pack bond, for whatever reason. Once Namjoon was fully sure that they needed YN with them, in one way or another, he rounded up the boys.

“You all know that it’s been a week since YN left us. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that this week has been absolutely torture.” Namjoon starts, pacing back and forth in the living room, looking at the boys before him.

“Right Joon, what have you decided?” None of them pay attention to who it was that said it, but they were all looking at Namjoon anxiously.

“We need her here. With us. She’s started the pack bond, even though we all know she couldn’t have meant to.” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, pausing his pacing to stand in the middle of the room, turning to the six other men he called his family.

“Hyung, what are we going to actually do?” It’s Jimin who speaks up this time, shifting nervously in his seat.

“Tomorrow morning, be ready to drive over to hers. It’s almost an hour, because we will have to go around the forest completely, but we need to explain to her what’s going on and let her make the choice for herself as to what to do.” Namjoon takes a deep breath. “Jin can drive the one car, and Yoongi can drive the other, since they have both taken the drive before. But whatever happens tomorrow, we have to respect YN and her decisions.”

They all agreed, excitement building as they chattered amongst each other.

“One of you needs to come and help me gather some snacks to take with us in the morning, I know you guys will just be absolutely starving if we don’t have something for the ride.” Jin stands and smiles fondly at the three youngest, who smile sheepishly back at him. Everyone in the room knew that the comment was directed at them, especially Jungkook.

It was Jungkook who followed the elder into the kitchen, excitedly packing what seemed like enough snack foods to feed twenty people, thought they both knew that between the seven of them, they’d all be gone or close to it by the end of the next day.

~~~~~~

When YN woke up the morning the pack was coming to see her, something compelled her to get out of bed without the two or three hour upset lounging session she had been growing used to.

For the first time since returning to her home, she put on a pot of coffee and found some cereal that she wouldn’t mind eating dry. YN sat at her kitchen counter, wearing Yoongi’s hoodie like a dress, sipping coffee that was far too hot and way too bitter for her liking, crunching on cereal.

YN was completely zoned out, doing these things without thinking about what she was really doing. One hand was alternating between bringing the half empty coffee cup to her mouth or grabbing a few pieces of cereal at a time, the other clutching that teddy bear to her chest like it would fill the gaping void.

It was because of this autopilot mode that YN didn’t hear the knocking at her door until it was fairly loud. Confused and not thinking at all, she went and opened the door paying absolutely no attention to the fact that she hadn’t gotten dressed for the day yet and she was not dressed appropriately to be seeing anyone just yet.

She is met with the sight of Namjoon’s smiling face looking down on her, his deep and polite voice asking her if they could come in as the other boys stood behind him, clearly impatient.

“Y-yeah of course” YN’s voice is rough from not having spoken for almost a whole week, other than to let sobs fall from her lips. She shakes her head as she moves to the side, letting the pack into her home.

It felt strange, seeing the object of all of her emotions in the last week right there in her home, milling around the place in a curious fashion.

It is right then when she becomes fully aware of the fact that, not only is she clutching onto the teddy that Hobi got her, but she’s also not wearing any pants. Sure, Yoongi’s hoodie might as well have been a dress on her much smaller frame, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel exposed as the seven men made their way into her home.

As comfortable as she was with them, she could never forget just how large they were in comparison to her. Or the strength that was so carefully hidden in their lithe bodies.

“Ehm- make yourselves at home. I’m going to get changed.” YN turns on her heel, ears hot as she hurries to her room, embarrassment rolling off of her in waves.

The boys, so used to being naked or close to it with each other because of the changes and the nature of their relationships with each other, honestly didn’t register anything weird with her appearance. They shot confused glances at each other as they watched YN retreat, but shrugged it off once they realized they could see her legs.

YN returned after a couple minutes. She had left the teddy bear in her room, and thrown a pair of leggings and Taehyung’s beanie on, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. She couldn’t help the immense feeling of comfort at the knowledge the boys, her boys, were in her home again.

“Ah YN!” Hoseok is the first one to notice that YN had returned, giving her his sunshine smile. YN gives a little wave, standing awkwardly in the entrance to her living room and kitchen. She’s unsure of why they’re there, or what was expected of her, making her feel almost like a stranger in her own home.

It doesn’t take more than twenty seconds for Taehyung and Jimin to have her seated between them on the couch, each of them practically smothering her in cuddles from either side. YN is giggling before long, feeling like she was finally coming home. The two boys were being almost too loud as they exclaimed how much they had missed her.

“YN!” Jin shouts from the kitchen, expecting to find at least a little bit of something in her fridge that he could whip up for lunch for all of them. He had a feeling that they would be there for quite a while.“Why is your kitchen empty? Do you not eat when we don’t feed you?”

YN feels her ears get hot again as she mumbles something about not having been hungry as Jin just scolds her more. As much as she hated the scolding, she couldn’t deny that she had missed Jin’s semi-parental attitude towards her. From their spots on either side of her, Taehyung and Jimin joke about how they’ll protect YN from the “fierce scolding” of Jin.

“Alright, enough Hyung. Boys.” Namjoon speaks, bringing the attention to him. “We are here for a reason, after all. YN, would it be alright if I talked to you? Privately?”

YN is quickly agreeing, trying her best to get up from her spot squished between Taehyung and Jimin without injuring herself.

“Would you like to talk in the study?” YN asks when she finally manages to escape, turning and walking towards it once Namjoon nods. For whatever reason, she doesn’t question the fact that Namjoon wants to speak to her alone.

They walk in silence until they get there, YN taking her customary seat at the desk and Namjoon takes one across from her after closing the door.

“What do we have to talk about that couldn’t be said in the other room? Is it bad?” YN speaks first, her voice hoarse as she avoids eye contact, fiddling with the end of the hoodie.

“Well, YN, it’s not necessarily bad, but it’s going to be a lot for you to process and understand, so we figured it would be easier for you if I were the only one here when I explain everything.” Namjoon answers smoothly, doing his best to assuage the fears he was sure YN had.

YN makes a motion for Namjoon to continue, looking anywhere but his face. Her ears were hot as it dawned on her just how put together the boys were, even though she was a complete mess. She didn’t like feeling like the only one that was affected, but to her, it was clear she was the only one feeling anything.

“Do you remember my first visit, when you were still on bedrest?” Namjoon gives YN a second to respond, continuing when he hears her give a soft hum in acknowledgement.

“Well, I told you then that you smell like an Omega, which is true. What I didn’t know then was if you were able to pack bond or not. Turns out that you most definitely can, and are probably one of the lost Omegas.” Namjoon pauses, watching YN intently as he waits for her to process what he had told her.

“Wha-” YN begins, brow furrowed as she mulls over what Namjoon had said. She knew what pack bonding was, what it meant. She knew that it was a connection far deeper than anything a regular human could experience. It was a family, a partnership, a lover, a best friend. It was special.

“Is that why I feel so bad?” YN asks the question in a voice that is much softer than anything Namjoon had heard come from her before, and it breaks his heart.

“Now I can’t be sure beca-” Namjoon starts, pushing the glasses he had decided to wear up his nose as he begins an explanation that YN can just tell isn’t going to really tell her anything. She loved Namjoon, she really did, but he had a specific way of sugar coating things that left people without a grasp of the full picture.

“Joonie, please.” YN interrupts, wrapping her arms around herself as her head turns to the floor. The familiar name tugs even more at Namjoon’s heart, a lump forming in his throat as he sees just how much YN is really hurting. “Don’t sugar coat it. Did something happen? To make me feel so horrible?”

“We bonded. Or started to.”

“O-oh”

“Yeah.”

The room falls silent for what seems like way too long, neither person wanting to be the one to break the heavy silence.

“What does- what does this mean? For- For me?” YN finally speaks, thoughts racing. She internally cringed at the fact she kept tripping over her words.

She was grateful, in that moment, that it had been easy for her to pick up on the methods there were to keep the boys out of her head.

“First off we want you to come and live with us, permanently. We will care for you just like we did when you were hurt, but you won’t have to say goodbye. We will be there for you, no matter what. You’ll always be safe, always be cared for, always be taken care of. Omegas are always the most protected members of the pack, they’re the most vulnerable.” Namjoon’s voice is warm, almost too happy. YN can tell there's a catch.

“But?”

“But you won’t be able to live outside of the house that we inhabit. You’ll be a target for any other pack that wants to hurt us or find our weak spots, so you won’t be able to go anywhere without one of us, except for in the house.” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders as if what he said wasn’t incredibly shocking and wouldn’t greatly influence her decision to join them or not.

“I- What?” YN shakes her head. “You mean to tell me that I have to choose between feeling like someone ran me over a million times with a cement truck and stomped a hole in my chest, or always being targeted for murder?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, giving YN more time to try to process what was going on.

“And if I say yes, I won’t ever be able to go and do anything by myself? Or I might be killed?” YN’s voice is shaky as she speaks, and again, Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Can you give me a minute? Alone?” YN turns the chair back around and stares at her closed laptop.

“Of course. Yell if you need one of us, yeah?” Namjoon stands and walks out of the door, a sad smile gracing his face as he softly shuts the door behind him. He honestly couldn’t tell what YN was going to do, and as he walked away, he realized he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that they’d always be able to read her thoughts, even if she didn’t want them to.

He took off the glasses he had been wearing, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks back into the living room area. Even though he’s expecting to be bombarded with questions, the boys don’t say anything as Namjoon moves into the kitchen, seeking the comfort of Jin without a second thought.

YN sat at her desk for a while, mulling everything over. She had always considered herself to be very independent, enjoying the ability to do things for herself, but she couldn’t shake how wonderful it felt to be taken care of. Sure, it wasn’t at all what she was used to, but she couldn’t deny that it made her feel loved.

Wanted.

Special.

And YN liked that, if she was being honest with herself.

But she also couldn’t imagine giving up her freedom. Giving up her walks alone in the woods, or her solo trips to town, or her trips to the city to go see this or that. The fact is, YN likes her time alone, away from everyone else. In the mansion, the only place she could go to get away would be her own room, which felt like she was a sad teenager again, hiding from her parents.

However much she wanted to just burst out with a yes as soon as Namjoon had mentioned staying with them permanently, she felt like she needed another perspective when it came to what her life would become in that home.

She didn’t want to make a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life, after all.

As much as it felt like the right thing to do, she didn’t want to intrude on what was already an established group, just because she didn’t feel good.

Especially not when they clearly weren’t half as affected as she was. Sure, YN had always known she felt things a little deeper than other people seemed to when it came to her friendships, but she didn’t realize just how fucked her emotions were until the seven men she had spent a full seven days crying over came back into her life, completely fine.

Deciding that she needed another opinion, she stood, quietly opening the door and heading towards the noise of the men in the other room. Purposefully, she stayed quiet and to the side, not wanting them to focus their attention on her just yet. She couldn’t deal with their attention being fully on her, not then.

“Yoongi?” YN’s voice is soft, sad. She was standing behind him when she spoke, causing the man to jump, twirling around to see what she needed. Sure, he had noticed when she entered the room, but he was not expecting her to be right beside him.

With a cough, he asked what she needed.

“Could I talk with you in the study? Please?” YN looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers as she spoke in that same sad, soft tone. Needless to say, she could have asked for anything in that way and Yoongi would have lit the world on fire to get it for her.

Instead, he nods, motioning for YN to lead the way. She scurries back to the study, hoping that Yoongi will have some insights that will help her solidify if it’s the right choice or not.

Truthfully, she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more than to go back to the way things were before this horrible week, but she also had to be sure.

YN takes a seat on the couch this time, watching with those same sad eyes as Yoongi closes the door. He sits down next to her, opening his arms as YN settles herself into his embrace.

If Yoongi was being honest with himself, he didn’t really understand why the youngest three liked physical affection so much until that first night YN had curled up beside him, sharing her blanket with him as she slowly ended up closer and closer to him. She claimed that she was “just cold” and that her burying her nose in Yoongi’s shoulder for half the night had nothing to do with the terrifying movie that Jungkook and Taehyung had decided was going to be the selection for that week’s movie night, but they could all see right through her.

After that first night, Yoongi would always open his arms to YN whenever they were seated next to each other, like now. Though usually it was more positive than it was in this moment.

Yoongi internally felt awkward as he heard YN sniffle sofly in his arms, though he couldn’t deny he wanted to hurt whoever had made her upset. Sure, he knew that it wasn’t rational, but he had always been protective of those he cared about, and YN was most definitely not an exception to that rule.

“It’s alright YN, I know this is a lot for you.” Yoongi speaks for the first time, his deep voice comforting YN in a way she had been sorely missing.

YN doesn’t speak for a long time. Instead she cries, burying herself in Yoongi’s arms. She had missed having him so close, having his scent to help calm her down.

“YN, darling, tell me what’s been going on, hm?” Yoongi moves YN off of him slightly, running a hand over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Are you sure you wanna hear?” YN’s voice is shaky, strained. The amount of unashurededness in her voice makes Yoongi’s heart break, and a sort of gross protectiveness come out in him that he hadn’t felt since the younger members of the pack had joined. As much as those three got on his nerves, he felt the same sort of protective love for them as he did for YN.

“Of course I want to hear. I’m always here to listen to you.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, careful. YN glances up, tears brimming in her eyes. When she sees Yoongi’s attention fully on her, his eyes searching her face to try to make sure he wasn’t overstepping and that she was as comfortable as she could be given the circumstances, those same tears spilled.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, leaning back away from Yoongi so she can properly look at him.

“It was horrible Yoongs. I felt like- like someone had ripped out my heart. Like there was a gaping hole where my stomach used to be. Like- like you didn’t want me. Didn’t care. ” YN shivered, eyes trained on her hands as she fiddled with the end of one of her sleeves, willing herself not to cry any more than she already had.

Yoongi notices this small nervous habit and takes her small hands into his much larger ones, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles in a way he hoped was soothing to her.

“I felt alone. I’ve never felt alone like that before Yoongi. Never!” YN sniffles, shaking her head. “I couldn’t eat, I either slept for too long or not long enough, and I was cold. It was so so cold. I didn’t feel like I’d ever be warm again.”

Her voice fades out now, sniffles coming more and more frequently. Yoongi took the pause in her speaking to pull her back into his arms again, instinctually knowing that she just needed to be held and reminded that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Once YN had calmed down again, Yoongi held her at arm's length again, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the last tears from her cheeks again.

“YN, look at me.” His voice is soft, caring. He doesn’t speak again until YN fully turns to look at his face.

“I never want you to feel like that again. I’ll be here for you, we will be. What I felt this past week-” Yoongi pauses to shake his head, “-I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not someone so fragile as you.”

YN can feel her ears get hot, wanting to say that she wasn’t fragile, that she could handle things. She wanted to tell him about all the terrible things she had gone through before, about how much she had dealt with all on her own, but she didn’t. The words died in her throat, because by their standards, by his standards, she really was.

“Do you understand what we are asking, by wanting you to come live with us? To be part of the pack?” Yoongi asks now, shifting the attention slightly.

“Sort of.” YN shrugs. Her fingers are back to fiddling with her sleeve and are quickly captured by Yoongi’s again.

“What are you concerned about? Hm?” He gives her that signature gummy smile of his, eyes crinkling at the edge when he notices how YN finally cracks a smile.

“I don’t want to lose my freedom. I can do things by myself, I don’t really need to be taken care of, really! I don’t want to become a burden on any of you. Or cause issues. Or put myself somewhere I’m not really needed.” She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it absently as she watches Yoongi for his reaction. If there’s one thing she could trust, it would be Yoongi’s lack of ability to make anything something other than exactly what it was.

“I’m not going to lie to you, you know that. I don’t see the point in it. The way things were before you came back here, that’s about how they’ll be if you choose to come with us. There are only two things that will change.” Yoongi pauses, looking to make sure YN is paying attention properly.

“First, you will end up presenting fully as an Omega. When it comes closer to the time for that to happen, Jimin will have to be the one to explain it to you, seeing as he’s the one who has felt things as close to what you’ll go through. Second, you won’t be able to shield your thoughts from us anymore. If we want to read you, we will be able to. It’s not something we are looking to do, but the emotional state of Omegas affects the rest of the pack greatly, and that’s the way we have evolved to deal with it.”

YN swallows thickly, mind racing. She wasn’t going to lie, she had some, well, unsavory thoughts about the men that she had come to know so well. She really didn’t want all of those thoughts being common knowledge, especially not to the people they were about.

“You- You’re sure I won’t be able to shield?” YN’s voice feels sticky in her throat as she gets the words out.

“One hundred pre-cent darling, every thought that passes through that pretty brain of yours will be able to be accessed by us, if we want to read you. As our only Omega, your thoughts and feelings, your emotions, they will greatly affect all of us. We already feel what the others do, but with you, it’ll be ten times as intense. We need to be able to read you so that way we can always know what’s going on, what you want and what you need, without you having to explain it to us.”

“Oh”

“We already feel like we need to protect you, like you are our lovely little Omega. Once you’re fully ingrained into our pack, it’ll just be more intense.”

They fall silent, once Yoongi finishes speaking this time. He smiles absently at YN as she plays with his fingers, obviously deep in thought.

He had missed having her around more than he thought, if that was even possible.

“I’ll do it.” YN’s voice is so soft, Yoongi almost misses it.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi wants to make sure YN has really thought about everything before she says a definitive yes, even when he wanted nothing more than to squeeze the small girl into the tightest hug he could.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to live with you. With all of you. I want to be your Omega just as much as I want you to be my pack.” YN tries to swallow the lump in her throat, willing herself not to trip over her words.

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.”

~~~~~~

The next two weeks were hectic, to say the least. Once YN had confirmed that she was going to be making the move from her own home to the mansion with the pack, there was a flurry of activity.

First, they had to decide who was going to stay with YN while she packed all of the things she would be needing. Like the big bad adults they are, the pack played a huge game of rock-paper-scissors for the privilege, with Hoseok and Jimin being the ones to end up winning.

After that game, the rest of the boys stayed around to help with whatever they could right then, but left in the late afternoon.

From then on, it was time for YN to go through and pack up everything she could to make sure she had enough stuff for living somewhere new.

She started with packing up things she didn’t want the boys to see, like her underthings and personal journals, before moving on to things that they could more easily help with.

Jimin was not a very big help, deciding that he wanted to cuddle one (or both) of the other people in the house instead of helping to pack and carry the boxes (and whining when he didn’t get his way). Both YN and Hobi found it to be adorable though, neither of them really minding the workload.

It was mostly deciding what YN would need for her everyday life, and what things she could leave in the home, just in case someone in her family decided to drop by unannounced. YN couldn’t offer up a real explanation for them, not without reliving years of trauma, so neither Jimin nor Hobi decided to push the issue when she fiercely insisted that they leave enough to make sure nobody would question that someone lived there.

Hobi would cock up an eyebrow when he felt the small prickles of fear from YN whenever he would go to put one too many of something in a box. He thought it was just plain weird that YN was so insistent on this one very specific thing, making sure to remember everything that she was doing so he could discuss it with both Jimin and the rest of the pack when he got the chance.

Jimin, whenever he felt the well of emotion swell up in YN, would do his best to distract her, telling her about this or asking her about that or pretending he needed a hug from her before he could do any more work. He would let angelic giggles fall from his lips as he drew the girl into his arms, picking her up and swinging her around until she felt happy again.

Neither boy pushed. They knew that YN would open up to them in time, and they didn’t try to pry into her mind either, even with the barrier that she had learned to keep up getting weaker by the day.

Every few days, the rest of the boys would show up and help with whatever they could for the day, be it moving boxes or sorting things or arranging this or that so it would look like someone was still living there. They all did their best to make sure that the transition between the house that YN had so many memories in and their own was a smooth one.

It was during this transition time that the boys fully realized two things they hadn’t really thought of before. On the lighter note, YN had an absolutely horrible sleep schedule and completely disregarded the sun’s appearances in the sky. The second, much darker, thing that they realized was that YN had hidden trauma.

What that trauma was? They couldn’t tell you, but they realized as she was packing that she was afraid of something. Again, she had very carefully hidden whatever it was she was so scared of, to the point that none of the boys knew what in the world she held such a deep terror for.

They decided among themselves not to bring it up though, deciding that YN would have to talk about it on her own. Even though they could feel her thoughts and emotions more and more with each passing day, they didn’t want to break the trust that they had built with her on the cusp of such an important move.

~~~~~~

And this is how things were when YN finally moved everything into the mansion. She had gotten everything settled into its rightful places fairly quickly, finding a system that would work well for her.

She settled into the routine of being in the house incredibly quickly, feeling almost as if she had never really left at all. It was hard to believe that just three weeks earlier she thought she was saying goodbye to this place forever.

In the mornings, or whenever YN decided to get out of bed, she would sleepily head down to the kitchen and grab one of the cold brews that always seemed to be in the fridge. She had always liked cold coffee more than hot coffee, so she was grateful to whoever kept the fridge stocked with her favorite flavor of cold brew.

From there, YN would carefully sip on her drink as she made her way around the mansion, looking for either Jin or Jimin. Both of them tended to stay in the house a lot, as neither of them had any sort of external job and neither of them went on patrol, if it could be helped. Whichever one of them she found first, she would either follow around until she was fully awake, or sit and watch as they did whatever they were doing at the time. YN would then go and find the one she hadn’t found the first time, repeating the process until she was satisfied that she was fully awake and ready to face the day.

At this point, YN would make her way back to the kitchen, stocking up on snacks and grabbing more coffee before making her way to one of the desks in the library. She’d spend the next few hours planning and doing research, hunched over the desk as she furiously types whatever it is that she needs to for the time, only taking small pauses to sip more of her drink or shove more of whatever snack she had grabbed into her mouth.

It’s only when the call of nature becomes too much to ignore that YN will stand and stretch out her spine, feeling stiff as she tries to pack up her things. Yes, she had found out early on that there were a couple maids that came in a few days a week, but YN couldn’t imagine leaving any sort of a mess for them if it could be helped and would clean everything she could whenever she got done with anything. Habits die hard, after all.

It always seemed to happen that one of the others would be getting home around this time, so YN would make her way into the surprisingly lush living room and curl up in some blankets and watch whatever happened to be on TV until someone caught her attention.

Usually, it would be Jungkook and Taehyung who returned first. YN didn’t quite understand why or what it was that they actually did, but they spent their days patrolling in the vast forest around the house. Jungkook had tried to explain it to her a few times, but she just never really understood what was going on.

When the two youngest would get to the home, it was a 50/50 shot as to if they would transform from their wolf form to their human one, or if they’d hang out around the house as wolves. Either way, they would find a way to sit on either side of YN and just relax with her for a while. Sometimes they would talk about what they had been doing or cool things they had seen, and other times they just wanted to get some affection from their favorite Omega.

Eventually, Hoseok would appear and steal Jungkook to either work out or dance with, and Jin would come in to steal YN so they could spend their time cooking the evening meal together. Every single day, without fail, Taehyung would grumble about how “the Hyungs took the fun ones” before going off to try and find Yoongi. And everyday, without fail, Yoongi would be found in his infamous Genius Lab, annoyed to high heaven that Taehyung had come in to “bother” him, even though they both enjoyed the interruption.

They always tried to eat together as a whole group, crowded around the table laughing and talking about anything and everything. As much as they would bicker and argue, none of them could deny the love and happiness they found in each other.

After their meal, they would break off into groups and do this or that. Sometimes they would go as a whole group to have a movie night, video game tournament, karaoke night, or something else that they could enjoy as a whole group (with the loser having to tidy up the kitchen and dining room). Other times, YN would make her way into the kitchen and start cleaning while the others broke away to do whatever it was they had planned for the evening. Whenever YN took it upon herself to clean up whatever mess was made, Hoseok would always come and help her, smiling and laughing with her as they got the place tidied up.

It was at this point that YN would slip away with her laptop under her arm, a water in one hand and her charger in the other, heading to the Genius Lab to work on her stories. Despite everything else, she still had deadlines to meet and a need to be alone sometimes, and she knew that Yoongi wouldn’t go back to the ever-so-private room until he was done doing rounds with Namjoon for the evening.

This gave YN about two and a half hours or so completely to herself, where she could be alone with her thoughts and feelings. She could feel the world she had built for her characters without the worry that anyone or anything would be there to interrupt her, could get deep into what the characters were doing and saying and feeling without worrying about what they boys would think of her and the world she had made. Honestly, it was incredibly freeing for her to be able to have that time and space where she was completely alone with her thoughts.

And when Yoongi did make his way back to his favorite room in their home, he fell into the habit of bringing an extra bottle of water with him for YN. The two would settle into a comfortable silence once Yoongi had settled in, both of them finding peace in the fact that the other person was in the room. Every so often, YN would ask Yoongi a question about this or that, or Yoongi would ask YN to give her opinion on a section of music, but most of the time the only sounds in the room were the soft taps of the keyboard and the even softer breathing of both bodies.

Eventually, one of them would end up looking at the time and mutter something about going to bed, which the other would ignore for at least another hour or two, when their eyes were heavy. YN would fall asleep on the couch without meaning to every couple days, which gave Yoongi the ultimate symbol to get them both to bed.

Yoongi would sweetly clean up the studio, making sure everything was off and where it needed to be and packing up whatever YN had brought with her, before he bent and picked her up, carrying her up to her room and tucking her in before making his way to his own room.

It was a simple, domestic sort of life that they all led, and they couldn’t of been happier with the way things were turning out.

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taehyungsgrowl · 4 years

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Ok BUT IMAGINE Noah having someone in that Outpost that cares for him apart from Gallant and the Grey‘s, takes him to bed with her when he can‘t sleep because of nightmares and so on. And someday Noah takes Y/N with her to an Interview with Michael and he immediately is like: 😍😍 And someday they‘re a cute little family

Michael being 😍 but what if Reader is 😠

Y/N, much like the other residents of the Outpost did not trust Langdon. She felt like she had to be wary around him, unsure if she would do the wrong thing to end up being killed. So for the most part, she just stayed out of his way. She felt lucky that he had yet to call her in for an interview. But who could she complain to? They were all on Mr. Langdon’s time.

The only shimmer of hope in that dark underground hell was Noah. She remembers trying to explain to the boy how he ended up there without having a real explanation. So she did the best she could to turn their stories into fairytales rather than the nightmare it really was. Y/N had never really thought of herself as the “motherly” type, but his sweet vulnerability made it impossible for her not to care for him. Even the ditziest of the residents had taken a liking to Noah. She doesn’t know what they would have done so many months without him.

She slept as peacefully as she could on her uncomfortable Outpost mattress - is was the little things she missed the most. What she wouldn’t do for her Bed, Bath, and Beyond mattress topper now.

But her sleep was interrupted by a pair of tiny hands shaking her awake, “Y/N. Y/N,” Noah called her name in a hushed tone. “Wake up.” he bounced his knees on the bed, hoping that would get her to wake up.

She opened her eyes and was met with his. “Hey, buddy,” she sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Noah tugged on her arm, “We gotta go,”

“Slow down - where are we going?”

Noah pulled his toy, the one Michael had gifted him, and shown it to Y/N. “Mr. Langdon gave me this. You gotta come see him.”

Y/N didn’t even attempt to mask her distrust of Michael. And she worried for Noah wondering what Michael’s intentions were with the child. She couldn’t help the protectiveness that overcame her.

“Noah,” she sat him down on the bed with her, brushing back his hair. “We have to be careful, okay. We don’t know him.”

“He’s my friend,” Noah pouted.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go talk to Mr. Langdon myself and while I do that you can hang out in here and draw me a new picture to hang up.”

Noah looked down at the bed, but nodded.

Y/N sighed slipping on her shoes and making her way to Michael’s bedroom in her nightgown.

She planned on giving him a piece of her mind.

She knew what the other interviews were doing to the other residents - the psychological games and manipulation. She’d be damned if she let Michael do that with a child.

Y/N swung open his door without knocking. To her surprise, he was already awake. He stood in front of his mirror, dressed in black from head to toe, his blonde waves brushing his shoulders.

“Ah, what do I owe this intrusion to Miss...” he questioned for her last name.

She stomped closer until she was almost chest to chest with him. She looked up at him, the realization of how underdressed she was creeping in.

“Leave the kid alone. Anything you need to do is going through me I don’t care if -”

“Excuse me,” he frowned down at her. “I don’t think you have a clue what you’re talk-”

“I do know.” she poked his chest. “I know that you said not all of us were going to make it out of here. And I know how some of the interviews have gone. Noah’s a good kid. Just. Please. Don’t hurt him.” Y/N didn’t expect her tears to start streaming down her face as she spoke. Partly due to the maternal instincts kicking in - the other part having to do with her fear of what Michael would do to her for approaching him like this.

Immediately, much like when he was interviewing Noah, Michael’s walls began to crumble down. His features softened as he took her wrist that was on his chest and set her hand down.

Something about the way she cared for the boy - the way he wishes someone would have cared for him made his heart tighten. He could sense that despite her own fears, she was there protecting Noah.

Michael never would have seen this coming from Y/N. He hadn’t gotten to her interview yet, but from the few times he’d seen her around she was not one for confrontation.

“Hey,” he gently brought his hand up to wipe her tears, anticipating her to flinch away. When she stayed still, he swiped his thumb over her cheek. “I’m not going to hurt him. I promise.”

“Here,” he led her to his chair and knelt down. His eyes scanned down her clothing briefly before he met her eyes again. The soft glow of the candlelight made her look so beautiful. His large hand covered her knee and slowly started to rub comforting circles on it.

“I admire how much you care for him.” his voice was low. Y/N could describe it as comforting, as strange as she thought. “I want to protect him. He’s just a child.” he said. Those words echoed in his head.

Y/N nodded, “He is.” she sniffled, slowly looking up to meet Michael’s blue eyes. It was surprising to see him without his red eyeshadow. It softened his look so much, she got lost in his gaze for a moment.

“He called you his friend,” she told him. She noticed Michael’s smile perk up at that.

He chuckled softly, “I’m glad he trusts me,” he paused, taking her hand in his, “Do you? Do you trust me not to hurt him - or you for that matter?”

“I don’t know.” she sighed

“I suppose that’s fair,” Michael let go of her hand. “But I give you my word.”

She nodded and sighed deeply in an attempt to relieve her body of the tension she’d been holding.

They both turned their heads up at the same time when Michael’s door creaked open. Noah came rushing in, crumbled paper in hand, he climbed up on Y/N’s lap.

“Hey!” she giggled, trying to look like she hadn’t been crying. Michael stayed on the floor, his hand still lingering on her.

“Look!” Noah held his drawing up for both Michael and Y/N to see. “It’s you, me, and Mr. Langdon.”

“That looks great,” Michael smiled, reaching up to ruffle his hair the same way Y/N always did.

Y/N watched in awe of Langdon being able to be so tender with the child. she didn’t know if she trusted him completely, but she knew he wouldn't do anything harmful to Noah. And for now that was enough for her.

Michael invited them to hang out in his room for the morning; he treated them to hidden snacks he had in his luggage. They had a makeshift picnic on his wooden floor. He knew Y/N didn’t trust him entirely, but he had the compulsion to make her trust him. He liked her. He knew he was there for business, but didn’t expect to meet Y/N or Noah to change his plans for the Cooperative.

anyway i wasnt gonna tag anyone in this one bc idk if it makes sense / is good BUT i had promised to write more Noah content so. here you go!

PLEASE!!!!! let me know if i should continue it or not!!!

@antichristlangdon @shyvirgoanon @angelicmichael @quillanpie e @xavierplympton @lvngdvns @desertsunflower00 @chloewinchester13 @langdonswhoreprobably @sadhoecentral @moonanonwriting @anonymous-ice-cream @rpwithjayn @littledemondani @little-grunge-flowerz @ritualmichael @wroteclassicaly @shenevertricks1831 @avocodys @duncansshephard @midnightontheearth @asiafern @fckinsupreme

#michael langdon #michael langdon fluff #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #noah #i tried to just recreate a taglist #ahs9 #cody fern #jim mason #duncan shepherd #xavier plympton

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hearty-an0n · 3 years

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ending markings for sea of monsters (ran out of green, used blue for last two markings)!!!! i read it all in the car so i had to go back and mark them when i got home

page 3, “i thought i saw a shadow flicker across the glass- a humanlike shape.” annabeth!! woop woop

page 64, “swirling over tyson was a glowing green trident- the same symbol that had appeared above me the day poseidon had claimed me as his a son” yeah!!!! tyson’s claiming :D! i love tyson sm

page 98, “standing right next to me was a guy in nylon running shorts and a new york citu marathon t-shirt.” first hermes encounter. wanted to go back and be able to read it easy

page 122, “that was chris rodriguez!” annabeth took off her cap and turned visible. “you remember- from cabin eleven” mmm luke turning other demigods against the gods foreshadowing i think (does this count as foreshadowing?? idk)

page 124, “if it isnt my two favourite cousins.” i jus love how they refer to eachother as cousins. its so funny to me for no reason

page 127, “we could use your intelligence, annabeth!” “because you have none of your own!” GET HIS ASS ANNABETH

page 139, “but whenever annabeth talked about the time she’d spent with them, i kind of felt… i dont know. uncomfortable? no. thats not the word. the word was jealous.” annabeth and percy’s relationship didnt come out of nowhere and i appreciate that sm its so annoying when characters are thrown into relationships for no reason

page 172, “the animals in the corner cage started squealing. they must’ve been guinea pigs, from the sound of them.” FORESHADOWING (i think) percy’s about to be a guinea pig!!!!!!

page 178, “she was wearing a sleeveless silk dress like C.C’s, only white. her blonde hair was newly washed and combed and braided with gold.” im gay

page 190, ive got “then a girl spoke right nect to me. “well, seaweed brain?” marked so it marks the dream. also thats thalia! woo!!

page 220, “bad polyphemus,” tyson said. “not all cyclopes as nice as we look” TYSON’S BACK!!!!!!!! YEAH!!!!!

page 256, “i gave her a grudging smile.” hes smiling at clarisse bc hes happy to be back :]! idk i just liked it a lot

page 257, “hermes?” i stammered” 2nd hermes encounter! he gives him the letter from posedion which is just foreshadowing for thalia coming out if the tree

page 268, “brother!” i said loud enough for everybody to hear. “tyson, my baby brother.” YEAH! idk just. soft. im soft

didnt mark thalia coming out of the tree cause its literally the last page n i could find it easily

#<3 #as i said gnna take a break off my pjo reread to read my new book

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fmdrorinarchive · 3 years

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━━━━━━ 𝖆 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘… 💋 〈 Below the cut is an intro for Michelle Chae of Chroma // Please 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 to plot, and thanks for reading !! 〉

𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓.

Hi again, friends !! This is Boone ( 19+ / MDT / HE & HIM ) and you may recognize me as the typist behind Vive’s maknae, Yoo Rioh. I’ve decided to bring in another muse! Like Rioh, Michelle’s just starting out in her career and I can’t wait to see her grow. ♡ To find out more, please read onwards !! I can’t wait until she gets to meet all of your muses !! Oh, here are a few trigger warnings to look out for if you continue to read: mentions of drug addiction and parental abandonment; mentions of slut-shaming and misogyny.

𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘.

MICHELLE RORIN CHAE, b. 19990620

BORN & RAISED IN VALLEY GLEN, CA

FORMER COMPETITIVE FIGURE SKATER

BC ENT / CHROMA & CHROMA EMBER

SUB VOCALIST, SUB RAPPER, VISUAL

𝖋𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔.

RESEMBLES KIM MINJEONG ( WINTER ) OF ÆSPA

SHE STANDS AT A MODERATE 163 CM ( 5 FT, 3 IN )

CISGENDER FEMALE, USES SHE / HER PRONOUNS

GEMINI CANCER CUSP, YEAR OF EARTH RABBIT

HETEROFLEXIBLE, KINSEY SCALE #2, CURIOUS

𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖉𝖎𝖛𝖊.

TRAJECTORY / Michelle was born in Valley Glen, CA to David and Heesun Chae—the owners of a struggling restaurant in their neck of the woods. As a kid, she trained to become a figure skater, but when her father bailed on her and her mother because of a drug addiction, she couldn’t afford the expenses for coaching, etc. so she retired from it for now. / Instead of being able to truly enjoy her youth, she had to pick-up after school jobs in order to help her mom with bills, and for awhile, her only source of comfort was spent with guys that showed her affection. Her relationships with boys grossly gave her the title of a “whore” to her peers, so she sadly didn’t have many friends to lean on in high school. / Originally traveled to Korea to earn a nursing degree from SNU, but got scouted by BCE on her first day—prompting her to drop out of school to focus primarily on training. This enraged her mother as the plan was for her to become a nurse so they no longer had to worry about money. / After only a few months of training, she’s selected to debut as a member of Chroma. OTHER FACTS / Not mentioned in her biography is the fact that she grew up in a fairly religious family. Mom and dad were raised Christian, so they raised their daughter the same. She was never into church, though. She always felt as though she was being judged harshly by the others in attendance. Hell, she even thought that of her mother quite often. Her style was never as pristine as her mom would’ve liked and no one understood her interests in the occult, in anime, in video games, and so forth. By the time she was eighteen, she stopped showing up to service altogether—which her mom didn’t like, but respected nevertheless. / She still likes to skate in her spare time... but she doesn’t really have any nowadays. You’d think that she’d be in the dance line due to her past in performance, but since she stopped skating, she’s lost a lot of her flexibility and power. She hopes to improve though! / She’s never had many close female friends, so she looks forward to hopefully bonding with her members as they grow closer. This is something she wants to change about herself a lot. INSPIRATION / For Michelle, I pulled a lot of inspiration from a few different characters from television series, mainly Cassie Howard from Euphoria; Manuella “Manny” Santos from Degrassi: The Next Generation; Tessa Campanelli from Degrassi JH / High; and Britney Orton from We Are Who We Are, among others!

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞.

01. On the surface, Michelle’s reasonably pleasant to be around. She has a deep interest in people, especially those she’s close to, so if you’re a friend of her’s, she genuinely wants to know all about you and deeply cares about how you’re feeling / doing. Some might perceive this high level of intrigue as romantic, and she’s... not ever really going to confirm or deny those types of feelings. She’s a huuuge believer in love and doesn’t want to end up like her parents, but also has no idea what she’s doing when it comes down to it. She didn’t have the best example to look up to, so you know. 02. Michelle’s really talkative, and she’s witty, and she knows how to charm the pants off of most people, and while that’s loud and present in her character, she also has many faults. For one, her emotions are really strong and her mood is easily affected by others and events that occur in day-to-day life, so she has a tendency of being moody. That, and she also isn’t the best “rule follower” either. Does she care that there’s a dating ban in place for she and Chroma? Absolutely not. Did she experiment with drugs and alcohol in high school when they were forbidden to her? Yes. She’s not the best at making decisions, but she believes that taking risks shape better people... even if that belief’s a little skewed. 03. Some people say that she might be a little too “sweet” for her own good sometimes and she’s prone to getting her heart stomped on, but she’s not all that innocent. While she’s a huge believer in love, she’s not exactly good at it. She enters in and out of relationships all the time, and she loves the honeymoon phase, but whenever it starts to get too “real,” she gets nervous and bails. Abandonment issues FTW? A very strong possibility. 04. She’s also empathic to a fault on occasion. It’s easy for her to pick up on the emotions of others and it’s hard for her not to carry them on her shoulders. She’s had a difficult time learning that boundary for herself, and well, at this point, she doesn’t even realize that it’s a thing. Mother taught her how to be kind and nurturing towards loved ones, but she can take it to a degree that isn’t healthy for anyone—especially if love / romance is involved. 05. Her chattiness can sometimes land her in trouble, but that’s because she has a hard time filtering what she says. Her mind runs a mile a minute and her speaking patterns are similar, so sadly, she can’t control what comes out of her mouth sometimes... pray for her.

𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉-𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘.

01. If I were to make any sort of “claim” on what I imagine her voice sounding like, it’d be a lot like J from STAYC, maybe with a little mix of fromis_9′s Seoyeon. There’s a delicate husk there, and it’s a little lower than the others, but it’s extremely recognizable and unique. That is her biggest asset as a singer and rapper. She’s not had enough time to truly make drastic improvements to either skill given her short stint as a trainee, but she’s working really hard to get better and doesn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face forever. 02. Dance-wise, she’s actually pretty strong—just nowhere near as trained as Chroma’s dance line. Due to her extensive background in figure skating ( and a little bit of ballet ), she’s got a really natural gracefulness to all of her moves; a fluidity that allows for strong body rolls, etc. Additionally, she focuses on clarity and sharpness, angles, as that’s what she’s most familiar with. Michelle also has great control of her hip-area and often adds variations to moves using her hips. If I were to select a reference, I’d say Oh My Girl’s Arin and TWICE’s Mina. Some of her faults are that her movements are often too light and soft, so whenever power is needed, she lacks strength there. She also has a tendency of making choreography look a little “sensual” without necessarily intending to. 03. Loooves when people call her Mish or Chelle/Shell. Honestly, she adores nicknames—both giving and receiving them. She’s also a heavy user of pet names in conversation, but tries her best to stop if people are uncomfortable with it. 04. Michelle’s typically not afraid of making her affections known, even early on. She’s the type that’ll definitely hit on you if she thinks you’re handsome / attractive, and goes with the flow if the person responds positively. If she gets really cozy with you, she can come off as clingy in the beginning, but that typically subsides with time. That’s applicable to both her friendships and her romantic relationships. 05. Her public image is similar to that of Alice in Wonderland and Snow White—beauties with fair skin and wide eyes; imaginative and curious; trapped in purity and sweetness; soft, feminine, and delicate—but with a slight “edge” because of her rapping and quick wit. It’s hard for her to keep up with it all the time—especially when she’s a bit different personally—and she’s barely starting in her career. She hopes it evolves over time. 06. She’s decided to go by her Korean name as an idol because it made the most sense, to be honest. Though, a few other stage names tossed around were: Chelle, Wooah, Hayan, Rozy, and Baekseol. In the end, she’s happy she’s just Rorin or Michelle to everyone.

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙-𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘.

This section will be updated when her plots page is complete. Please look forward to it !! I’m getting it done as fast as I can. In the meantime, I’m happy to brainstorm and look over your muses’ plots pages too !! ♡

#〈 INTRODUCTION. 〉#〈 YOUR ONE & ONLY. 〉

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