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unwantedtomost · 3 years

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it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning.

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it?

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #marvel smut #marvel men smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #fanfic #tfatws

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marichat-verse · 3 years

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Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

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bugsbucky · 4 years

Text

Special Birthday Girl

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: DDs: it’s your birthday and unfortunately, you and Sebastian/Bucky had a fight a few days ago and still aren’t talking. There’s a delivery of a large bouquet of flowers from your partner but the note attached makes you anxious he’s hinting for a breakup. How do you make up when you learn the note was just worded incorrectly?

Warnings: Angst, lots of tension, fluff, happy ending!

Word Count: 1,466 (Yikes!)

Authors Notes: This is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Extended Drunk Drabbles! A really really big thank you to my tumblrmama @hawksmagnolia for your help with this prompt! Couldn’t have finished it without you!!

Happy birthday sweetheart!!! Hope you have a great day!

Many kisses Y/N! Have a fantastic day!

Happy Birthday!!!

Happy birthday, you beautiful human!

The birthday messages kept pouring in from your friends and family. Everyone close to you had wished you a happy birthday, everyone except Bucky.

The atmosphere in your tiny single bedroom apartment was uncomfortably thick. Even his Avenger friends picked up on the tension as soon as they had walked into the space.

The two of you had had a pretty heated fight a week ago about his continued grumpiness. Bucky was tired, you understood that since he’s been working so much, but his short patience with you was making you crazy. It seemed he bit your head off every time you opened your mouth. You were officially done with his surly mood so you chose to put him in his place, warning him that if he didn’t stop talking to you like that then he shouldn’t bother talking to you at all.

Since that day, he has chosen the latter and hasn’t spoken to you since. Whenever you and Bucky have fought in the past, one of you would usually break the silence after an hour. You kept expecting him to try and fix things, like apologise for his hostile remarks but nothing. You feared this was the end of your relationship, that this was his way of breaking up without saying it.

It was like two strangers under the same roof. You still shared the same bed, but at different times. You cooked and ate your own meals separately and spent most of the day in a different room away from each other.

But today was your birthday and while you were really happy to receive such beautiful messages from those who loved you, the memory of your angry outburst and his silence sat heavily on top of your shoulders. Just knowing that you and Bucky weren’t okay was making it difficult to enjoy your day.

A sudden knock echoes throughout the apartment startles you and your head jerks to the door in the hopes to hear Bucky striding to answer it. When you hear nothing after a couple of heartbeats another loud knock comes. You huff in frustration and stomp towards the door. You hadn’t heard Bucky leave the apartment and knew he was here somewhere. He had come in very early this morning and you assumed he’d crashed on the couch. You’d been hiding in the bedroom, hoping the door would muffle any tears.

Would it really be such an inconvenience for him to answer the damn door?

You yank the door open with more force than you intended to use and your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. A delivery man in brown uniform stood in front of you holding a beautifully wrapped large bouquet of flowers in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Good afternoon ma’am! Are you Miss Y/L/N?”

You nodded. “Um yes, that’s me.”

“Great. I’ve got a delivery for you from Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.” Hearing his full name caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“Oh.” You blew out a surprised breath. He’d bought you flowers for your birthday? Your excitement died a bit and you swallowed a knot in your throat realizing he could have ordered them well before your fight.

The man clears his throat and you blink at him. It’s then you realize that he’s holding the flowers out for you to take them. You take them gracefully as possible, quickly scribbling your name down on the piece of paper and nudging the door closed with your foot.

Setting the flowers down on the side in the kitchen, you go on a hunt for a big enough vase to fit the bunch. As you’re about to turn away, you see a note wedged between the petals from your peripheral vision.

Plucking the note between your fingers, your eyes scanning over the words printed on the back of it.

My love, I’m wishing you the happiest of birthdays. May the light guide your loneliness in your future adventures.

Yours, Bucky

What the absolute fuck did that mean? Your eyebrows furrow as you re-read it over and over and it still does not make any sense in your mind. Was he seriously hinting of a breakup with you? On your birthday of all days?!

Tossing the card on the kitchen counter, you take a step back and rub your temples. Tears were pooling in your eyes with the fear of what it meant.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Bucky asked from behind you. The first three words he has spoken since your fight and his voice sounds almost foreign to you now. “Did you not like my flowers?” His voice was deep and raspy, as though he just woken up from his nap. You sensed some guilt there too.

“They are nice.” You breathed, keeping your eyes closed as your heart raced. This was truly the shittiest of birthdays you’ve ever had.

“Y/N.” You could feel his body heat in front of you, his footsteps were silent thanks to his experience as an assassin. His large hands wrapped around your wrists and pulled them away from your face. Tears slid down your cheeks and you averted your gaze everywhere but on him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” The words rolled off your tongue before you could swallow them down. Might as well give the shitty day a high five and get it over with.

For a moment, Bucky looks stunned. It’s quickly replaced with confusion as his brows knit together. “Of course not! We’re adults here, I know we can and will fix it. It was just a stupid little fig-”

“Then why word the note the way you did? What the fuck does it even mean? You make it sound like I’m going into my future alone without you. And today of all days, Bucky! It’s my fucking birthday and I can’t believe you’d do this!”

The crease between his eyebrows deepens and now he’s more confused by what you meant. “What note are you talking about, doll?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes, the leftover anger from your fight and frustration of the week of silent treatment coming to the surface. You stepped around his large frame and almost punched the card into his chest.

He read over the note and you took mental notes of his expressions. Confusion that was replaced by anger. His nostrils flared as he ripped the card up and threw the pieces on the floor.

“I didn’t write that. That’s not even close to what I told the girl to write.” He scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“What do you mean?”

“The girl at the flower shop has this weird crush on me. I told her what I wanted the writing to say and that was not it and clearly she fucked it up deliberately.”

You looked at each other and soon it became a staring contest. A small smile fighting its way to your lips and you shift under his intense gaze.

“Y/N.” He whispered, stepping closer. “I promise baby, I’m not breaking up with you. I wouldn’t even dream of it. I know we haven’t talked this past week and believe me, it killed me. I had to keep fighting the urge to curl into you at night and wrap you in my arms. I’m so sorry for my moods and I promise I’ll get my shit together. And believe me, that girl who sabotaged that note will not get away with it.”

This time a smile did find its way to your lips. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into his chest. He planted a kiss on top of your head and held you close, as though he was afraid you’d turn to dust.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He sighed. His breath fanning against your hair as he spoke.

“I love you too.” You craned your neck upwards and smiled. He kissed the tip of your nose and darted his tongue out to lick his dry lips.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered. Your chin resting against this broad chest. A goofy grin appears on his face and you already know the next words that will leave his lips.

“Not as much as I’ve missed you. I have a lot of making up to do. But since I didn’t give you your special birthday gift this morning, how about I give it to you now?”

“You better make sure it’s extra special.”

“Extra special for my special girl, coming right up.” He scooped you up into his arms and carried you straight into the bedroom.

Taglist: @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @deanthedemon @eurynome827 @emilylyoness @buckybarnesplumwhore @sarge-barnes-sir @crushedbyhyperbole @this-kitten-is-smitten @kitkatd7 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @littleredstarfish @buckys-henley @tuiccim @mystoragehatesme @starspangledseb @bambamwolf87 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

I love you too much to let you go

Summary:

Mobius says to himself that he did what he had to do to make Loki happy... fortunately he will come back to his senses and open his eyes.

Tumblr request : how about a break up and then forgiveness story?

Notes:

Honestly I never write break-ups, I am not fond making "my" characters suffer. I won't be doing it again anytime soon, but I hope I've met the challenge.

HAPPY ENDING!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32753194

1428 words - Rating G

Mobius rubbed his eyes, stretched, and slowly sat up. He reached out to the other side, out of habit. The space next to him was empty. Because Mobius did the right thing.

He stood up, walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. He looked at his reflection in the mirror without seeing it.

"I just think it's wiser to stop things before they go too far."

"We've been together for over a year, we've already gone too far." had replied Loki

"I am old and mortal. You have your whole life ahead of you and I do not wish to stand in your way. "

"In my way? But what way Mobius?" Mobius could sense the incomprehension in Loki's voice.

"I do not wish to be a burden to you."

"Mobius, how can you say that?" The voice was now pleading

"I'm saying that we should... that it's in our best interest to..."

"You're breaking up with me. Say it."

"Yes I want us to break up, before it hurts too much."

He saw Loki's features contort with anger. His gaze was as cold as ice.

"You'll thank me eventually...it's the right thing to do."

"How can I thank you when you are sacrificing me on the altar of your integrity, sacrificing our love on the altar of your fear.I thought you said I had the choice to do what I wanted with my life, but do you realize you just took that choice away from me? Who is now the scared little boy?"

Mobius answered nothing and stood in the middle of the living room until Loki walked out, closing the door, gently, without slamming it.

Mobius lived through that day and the next. The apartment was filled with Loki's absence, and Mobius spent more time at work to avoid feeling it. He told himself that Loki's things should be packed, but the thought of touching anything that evoked his presence made him sick.

"Go home!" HB ordered him when she realized that Mobius hardly ever went home and slept in his office.

"This is not my home anymore..." muttered Mobius.

"It's your fault" HB knew all about their breakup and had called Mobius an idiot more than once. "Go to sleep and especially get yourself a wash!"

"I'm sorry," Mobius said. He straightened up and went home.

Once the door was closed, he leaned on it and let himself slide against it. After a few seconds, he realized he was not alone and heard voices coming from the living room.

"Loki, did you even read all those books?" asked a voice Mobius knew. Casey.

"Almost all of them," Loki said with a tired tone, and Mobius froze, "The ones I didn't read were from Mobius, who..."

It was me who read them aloud to both of us.

"It must be nice to have someone take care of you like that."

"Yeah it is... unbelievable," Loki said, and Mobius could hear the clenching of his teeth.

"Mobius is great," Casey replied, "Everyone loves him."

"Sometimes that's not enough," Loki answered softly.

Casey didn't seem to hear him and continued, "To think that before he met you it was Loki-this or Loki-that, and even more so, after he met you it was the same. For anyone who knew Mobius, like me, it was crystal clear that he was completely dedicated to you. He had never put his head on the line for anyone like you."

"Shut up," Loki muttered. Mobius put his head in his hands.

What have I done?

"When you left, when you followed the variant, it wasn't the same. I'd never seen him like that in all the time I've known him. He hardly slept at all, until we found you."

"Mobius loves me, I know that," Loki said softly. "It's just... Like I told you, apparently that's not enough for him. It's not enough for him to fight."

"Loki," Casey continued, "I know most people think I'm an idiot. But you kept talking to me and being nice. So why are you letting him break up with you? You have to fight for him. You love each other. Everyone can see it, the young recruits when they hear about you, they call you the Time Lovers. For three days you've been a shadow of yourself."

"I'll have to find another light then," Loki blurted out.

Casey didn't respond and sighed.

Mobius decided it was time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat and walked toward the living room. "Good evening."

"Mobius!" Loki turned around. "I was, uh, packing up some stuff. I thought you'd be home later."

"I decided to come home early today."

Mobius realized that Loki was indeed a shadow of himself as Casey had said, and Mobius was to be blamed. The magnitude of his mistake was clear to him. He took a step towards Loki, then became aware of Casey's presence.

"Casey... do you-"

"I'm leaving." he paused, looked at Loki and said without letting out a sound, "Fight for it."

Loki nodded and Casey left.

Mobius waited for the front door to close.

"Loki, I'm sorry, I think I made a big mistake."

"You think?" Loki replied in a bitter tone.

"I'm sure of it. I lost faith in us for a while because I overheard a conversation that I probably shouldn't have. People were comparing us and saying how I was no good for you. That I was holding you back. I could only see my flaws, I could only see how I could possibly hurt you. I didn't realize...I didn't know...I couldn't see what I could offer you anymore." Mobius could no longer hold back his words, nor his tears, so desperate was he to convince Loki.

"I love you with all my being, Loki. Without you, nothing has any meaning, taste, flavor, light. And I realize that I am no longer able to live without you, so even if it makes me selfish, please Loki, come back to me."

Loki approached him and took his hand, "Mobius, how can you believe that you are not good for me? You trusted me when in the eyes of the universe I was anything but trustworthy, you saw the good in me when I had done nothing but evil, you made me want to become good, to become trustworthy, to become as you saw me. If you are not good for me, then no one is. How can you think you are holding me back when you have set me free and because of you I am no longer tied to the ground by my destiny." Tears were also running down Loki's cheeks. He continued, his voice trembling, "Even as you broke up with me I knew you loved me and I didn't stop loving you."

"Loki, I'm so sorry for the harm I may have done, for acting like a fool."

Loki shook his head, "You acted like a real idiot, but the harm you did was to both of us. You know, for a long time I thought I'd be the one to do the first stupid thing, to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing to make you want to leave me. I didn't think you would do it alone."

"I apologize with all my heart Loki."

Mobius took Loki's face in his hands and with his forehead against his, eyes in eyes, he said in a clear voice.

"I love you."

"For all time"

"Always."

"So we don't break up then?" joked Loki, who leaned in until his mouth was inches from Mobius'.

Mobius closed the distance then kissed Loki long and hard.

When they parted, Loki said softly, "I love you. I love everything about you. And I can't stand one more day of life without you. It's been a hell of a few days Mobius. I forgive you with all my heart but don't let this kind of thing break us up like this again. We've trusted each other since the very beginning, so trust me too when you doubt yourself."

"Thank you." whispered Mobius, exhaling with relief.

Loki took Mobius by the hand and led him to the couch, where he sat Mobius down, then got into his favorite position, his head in Mobius' lap, this time facing Mobius and wrapped his long arms around his waist before whispering against his stomach, "Don't ever do that to me again, Mobius. It was worse than the day I found out I was adopted, I thought my heart was being ripped out."

"Never again," Mobius promised, "I swear it to you." He leaned over and placed a long kiss on Loki's forehead.

They stayed like that for a long time, savoring the moment.

Their love had survived. _________

Whole series of oneshots here : X

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#lokius #lokius fic #loki seris #loki #mobius m mobius #moki #wowki #loki x mobius #timehusbands #time frost #established relationship #break up and make up #casey (loki)#Hunter B-15

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wincestation · 3 years

Text

Just Tonight

Prompt: Stanford Era

Pairing: Sam x Dean

Summery: Inspired by the song "Just Tonight" by The Pretty Reckless. Sam drunk-dials Dean in the middle of the night and tells him he needs him, but after a year apart, is one night enough?

Word Count: 2,059

Written For the SPN Trope Round Robin 2021 (@spn-trope-round-robin) - Round 3 (Remix/Inspired By).

A/N: My first SPN writing challenge ever! I really enjoyed this one. Hope you do too! also, @stanfordsweater your brand is in there for a moment ;)

Read on ao3

Sam’s world is narrowed down to the sound of the dial tone. He waits in the cold, his breath forming visible little clouds. Finally, someone picks up on the other end.

“Sam.” he sighs heavily. “It’s 2am. On a Wednesday.”

Good, Sam thinks. He’s in the same time zone as me. “Dean, I need you.”

“What?” Behind Dean’s voice, Sam can hear the engine of the Impala rumbling to a halt in the background and the familiar sound almost makes him cry. “What do you need me for?”

That question has too many answers, and Sam can’t think straight, he just knows he’s cold and alone and tired and he needs his brother. “I need you to take me home,” he says in a pathetic, tiny voice, leaning against a tree to keep his head from spinning.

Dean tries to sound sympathetic, Sam knows this, but his words come out patronizing. “Can’t you get a cab or something? Or... walk?”

“Dean, please.”

“It’ll take me forever. I’m in bed.”

“No, you’re not. You’re in the car.” He feels sick. Dean never lied to him before.

His brother might be thinking the same thing, because he doesn’t reply.

“C’mon, De, please.” Sam is begging but he doesn’t care, he’s the one who left, he’s the one who hurt Dean, and if Dean wants him to beg, he will. He’ll do anything. “Start the car and take me home.”

“You’re drunk.” Dean says in disbelief.

Sam slides into the Impala and slouches against the seat. “And a bit high,” he confirms.

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” and Sam knows he meant it as a joke, but he can’t say anything because the lump in his throat threatens to overflow if he does. He gives Dean the directions and leans his head on his brother's shoulder, ignoring the voice of reason that screams at him to stop making a fool of himself.

If Dean minds, he doesn’t show it. He drives slower than usual, as if he doesn’t want this ride to end, and for a few minutes, Sam lets himself feel a little hope.

The car stops too soon. “Looks like we’re here,” Dean says. It’s an unnecessary comment just to break the silence and Sam drags his pounding head away from his brother’s shoulder.

When he doesn’t move, Dean adds, “Need me to walk you inside?”

Sam nods. “Please,” and Dean agrees, because he could never say no to his little brother.

They both blink when Dean turns on the living room light. Sam groans and sinks into the couch while Dean looks around.

“Nice place. How can you afford - “ he stops abruptly and Sam raises his head.

Dean is holding a framed picture of Sam and Jessica, both smiling happily at the camera. She’s wearing his Stanford sweater - the one he has on right now, in fact. Dean looks at him and Sam knows he noticed that. “Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Sammy.” his voice is bitter and he puts the picture down as if it was burning his fingertips. “So you two live together, huh? Where is she?”

“She’s - not here.”

“Is she out partying on a Wednesday, too? When is she coming back?”

Sam winces. He doesn’t want to talk about Jessica right now. “I don’t know,” he says.

Dean turns to him with a cold smile. It’s the smile that Sam fears most - the one that doesn’t show his teeth, doesn’t reach his eyes. “So you invited me in, for what? So we can wait here for your perfect little girlfriend and - “

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam cuts through his words. He stares at Dean angrily. “Not anymore.”

Dean looks genuinely surprised. “What, she… left you?” Sam nods. “Like, for good?”

Sam pauses for a moment. “She’ll come back eventually.” Before the cold smile can return, he clarifies, “To pick up her things, I mean.”

“Oh.” Bitterness gone now, Dean looks a bit lost in the middle of Sam’s Stanford living room, and Sam almost laughs. Dean was always better at dealing with broken bones than with broken hearts - but it’s not like Sam himself was any better. The memory of the last time he saw his brother starts to creep back at him, and although he banishes it away, it kills any chance of laughter.

“So…” Dean starts, looking at Sam, as if he wants him to say something. When he doesn’t, Dean continues, “Unless you want to cry into your pillow while I stroke your hair...”

“No - don’t go.” Sam blurts out.

Dean just stares at him. Eventually, he says, anger underlining his words, “So you want me to stay, and, what? Get you through your hangover, help you get over your breakup with college Barbie? Is this what you meant when you said you needed me?”

Sam’s too hazy to properly respond, can’t even see straight. “Just tonight, Dean, please.” His hands reach out to the edge of Dean’s jacket and he grabs handfuls of the leather, bringing Dean as close to him as possible, trying not to sob his next words, throwing any inhibition away. “Please, De, need you to stay with me.” He knows his eyes are probably leaking. He doesn’t care. He looks up to his brother’s face, trying to memorise it so he can remember it tomorrow, because right now he can’t decipher what that look of his means.

Dean grips Sam’s hands and holds them for a moment. “Just tonight.” He says at last, and lets Sam drag him onto the couch and wrap himself around him. The anxiety that bubbled up in him is settled down, and Sam allows himself to relax into his brother's arms; even if it’s just tonight.

The light hits Dean’s eyes and he blinks furiously before finally making out his surroundings. A moment later, last night’s memories come back to him and he sits up, completely awake.

He can hear the shower running. His nose picks up the scent of coffee - and toast, too. His watering mouth is what makes him get up eventually, and when he does he feels his clothes stick to his skin, a reminder that he slept in them last night. Sam did, too. They didn’t even bother with as much as kicking off their shoes before drifting off to sleep - together, legs tangled, arms holding each other close.

Because that’s normal, right? Nothing says “Hey, Sammy, I missed you” like a casual brotherly spooning, Dean thinks grimly and sits at the kitchen table.

He nibbles on a slice of toast while contemplating his next move. Sam is bound to leave the shower soon - it’s taking him forever, what a princess - and Dean has to be ready when he shows up. He let himself slip last night, lost in the face of Sam’s desperation, that genuine need… But he shouldn’t have stayed. He should've tucked Sammy safely into his bed, say goodnight and drive the hell away from this stupid prissy college.

Dean braces himself when he hears the water stop. Any moment now, Sam will enter the room, apologize for calling him up, and send him on his way.

Dean is already thinking of a way to tell his father about this (cuddling excluded, of course) when Sam steps into the room, casually rubbing a towel over his wet hair, completely naked.

“Dude, what the - “

“Oh - shit, Dean, I thought you were still asleep.” Sam flashes an embarrassed, apologetic smile as he wraps the towel around his waist. Dean feels heat creeping up his cheeks and tries his hardest to repress it, seriously, it’s supposed to be Sam who blushes like a girl, while Sam sits in the chair in front of him and grabs a piece of toast.

Trying to keep his eyes away from his almost-naked brother, Dean stares at the clock on the wall, trying not to think of it as counting away his time. Finally he asks, eyes still fixed on the clock, “Don’t you have classes or something?”

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “Professor is sick,” He says with his mouth full. “Want me to show you around campus later?”

“Show me aro - aren't you going to apologize?” Dean snaps, moving his gaze back to his brother. He lets more anger into his words than he intended and he curses himself for it, but it’s too late to back out from this conversation now.

Sam swallows his food, troubled, and sets the rest of the toast aside. His hands drop to his lap, where he plays with the towel, until finally he says, “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have done this.”

Disappointment starts to bloom in Dean’s chest like blood stains through a t-shirt and he pushes it away violently. This is exactly what he was getting ready for, so how come he still has any glimpse of hope? “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”

“I was just so - “ Sam won’t look into his eyes, and traces of last night’s desperation start creeping into his voice. “When you told me all those things, I, I panicked. I was already pretty unhappy for a while - you know me and dad, always butting heads - and that was kinda like a final push or something.”

Dean has a weird feeling in his stomach. “Sam, what are you talking about?”

“I’m trying to apologize, Dean. Please, just let me finish.”

“For drunk dialing me last night and dragging my ass out here in the middle of the night,” Dean says, not asking, trying to convince himself that this is all the conversation is about.

“What?” Sam looks at him. Dean notices tiny tears hanging from his lashes, like fish caught in a net. “No. For leaving you.”

The silence thickens while they look at each other. The clock keeps ticking away in the background.

“I told you to forget everything I said,” Dean says eventually. His voice is hoarse even to his own ears.

“But that’s the thing, Dean,” Sam speaks quietly, “I just couldn’t. Even here, all those miles away from you, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I tried to put it all behind me, find a girl, build myself a normal life… But I couldn’t.” His eyes are focused on the towel and Dean’s head is working overtime to make sense of this.

Sam sniffs. “I know I hurt you.” He says in a small voice. Dean sees right through him - sees his teary-eyed baby brother, who simply did something he isn’t proud of and now aches for his forgiveness. “I said things I regret.”

“Called me sick,” Dean reminds him, mercilessly. “Said I needed to go see someone to fix everything that’s wrong with me.” Many other things were said, too, but those are the only ones he can bring himself to repeat.

“But that’s the thing, Dean,” Sam lifts his head at last and meets Dean’s eyes. His eyes tell Dean he’s right - this is his best, desperate attempt to fix this. “I don’t think you’re sick anymore. I think I know how you feel.”

What is he saying?

“I tried not to, tried to run away from it. But nothing else was enough, no one else was.” He’s visibly crying now but he continues, and Dean realises Sam needs to say those things, not just to him but out loud, to make them true, to make sure there’s no turning back. “De, you’re my big brother. And I love you. I don’t care if people think we’re sick, okay? I want to be with you - “

Dean doesn’t know how he got there - he doesn’t remember getting up - but he��s kneeling next to Sam, reaching up to brush away the tears, and it’s hard to reach his face because when did his baby brother get so freakishly tall? “It’s okay, Sammy. Don’t cry.”

“Mean it, Dean. I need you. I can’t - not without you.”

Dean stands and hugs Sam’s teary face to his chest. “Not going anywhere, Sammy. I’m right here with you.” Sam wraps his hands around his big brother and they melt into each other, bright morning sunshine and the smell of burnt, forgotten coffee, and little drops of water and tears mixing together and they don’t know where Dean ends and Sam begins but that's exactly what they're craving, wouldn’t have it any other way.

#wincest #wincest fanfiction #spn trope round robin #sam x dean #my writing #stanford era #hurt/comfort #eventual fluff #sam needing dean so bad he cries is apparently my thing now

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whiskery-louis · 3 years

Text

Pancakes

This is part 2 to Game Night and I think it will be the last! I am thinking about writing out their break-up but I’m not sure.

Luke x reader

Trigger Warning: angst

Please let me know what you think!!

~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing here?” you moved to block him from coming in, pushing the door closed every so slightly.

His eyes followed your movement and you knew he wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly what you were doing. It was unnerving him watching you after all this time. You used to love that his eyes followed you around the room, but now you were itching to slam the door in his face.

“Your phone.” he whispered.

“What about it?” you snapped.

He just sighed and put his hand in his pocket, pulling out your familiar marble phone case. “You ran out so fast you forgot this in the kitchen. And I-uh, I just wanted to make sure you got it back.”

He held it for you to take as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand. You couldn’t stop your eyes from glancing at the patch of skin that escaped under his shirt as he moved his arms. He cleared his throat when you didn’t take your phone from him immediately, the sound snapping you back to reality.

“Thank you,” you spoke curtly, not wanting to show him any emotion. You reached out and grabbed your phone careful not to let his skin brush yours. “If that’s all…” you moved to shut the door on him but his hand shot out and stopped it. The metal of his rings connecting with the door.

“Y/N wait can we talk?” he eyes searched your face pleading.

“Luke I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s been six months and I had a long night. Thank you for bringing me my phone but I just can’t.”

“I brought coffee,” you turned to see him reaching to the little table you had on your porch to pick up an iced drink. “And donuts.” his other hand was now holding a small box.

You sighed defeated as you opened the door further to let him in.

“You can stay until I finish my drink.”

He shut the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You froze in the doorway seeing the contents of the box that you forgot were laid out on the island.

“Shit,” you muttered but before you could turn to stop Luke from seeing your mess from last night, his body collided with yours, spilling the drink all over you.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so sorry. You just stopped and I didn’t…” His voice trailed off as he saw the photos of you and him that littered the kitchen. His eyes went back to you, a questioning look crossing his face.

You cut him off before he could speak. “I’m going to change. You can sit in there,” you pointed to your living room. “I’ll be right back. Please just don’t touch anything.”

Luke just nodded and went to sit on the couch as you made your way back upstairs.

“Nice shirt by the way!”

You looked down to see you were wearing his old Nirvana shirt, the first one he ever gave you and mentally cursed yourself for choosing to open that damn box last night. You rifled through the pile of clothes on your floor looking for your familiar oversized sweatshirt. Once you located it you took off Luke’s old shirt and shrugged on the familiar pale yellow crew neck. Ironically this was the sweatshirt you bought on your flight home from L.A. after your breakup and it had become the thing that you wore to bed whenever you had an off day. Maybe it was because that whole flight home you had cried and the only thing you had that he never touched was that sweatshirt.

You paused to take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and blanched when you saw how disheveled you looked. You sighed and hated that you wished you looked nicer, still not wanting Luke to see you like this. You quickly crossed the hall to your bathroom to wash your face, run a brush through your hair and apply the smallest amount of concealer to cover the blemishes on your face. Feeling slightly better you flushed the toilet to make it seem natural that you were taking longer.

Closing your eyes and taking a quick breath, you headed back down to Luke. He was sitting on the couch as you had told him too but now he was surrounded by the items that you had stored away in that box for six months. He was looking through a scrapbook that you had made about your trip to Disneyworld, he was so distracted that he didn’t hear you enter the room.

You stood there for a few minutes in disbelief at what you were looking at. Never did you think that Luke would step foot in your new home. The breakup had been so hard that you swore you wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt you again. You didn’t want to be that girl who took a guy back just because he apologized. Even if he is the love of your life.

Standing here watching him relive some of your favorite memories you began to feel your walls weaken. There had always been something about him that made your insides go soft, the way he always huffed at his hair to keep it out of his eyes, too stubborn to pull it back. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when you walked in a room, how he would always make you pancakes when you had a bad day, and the way his arms felt when they were wrapped around you during a scary movie.

It was strange seeing him after all this time. You thought your anger at how it ended would overpower you, but instead you felt sadness at what was lost. It shouldn’t surprise you as you were always head over heels for him, all your friends said you were crazy for running off to L.A. to be with the rockstar that you met by chance when he was touring the world. You knew their concerns were valid but you also knew the connection you shared with Luke was stronger. And you were right, for eight months you lived out there and it was eight months of pure bliss. Then out of nowhere he broke up with you and you were on the next flight home.

And now after all this time you were curious as to what he had to say.

You crossed the room and sat down next to him, glancing over his shoulder at the pages he had opened in the book. You laughed when you recognized the picture of the two of you riding Dinosaur. It was one of your favorite memories - Luke was screaming and you were turned towards him laughing at his reaction.

“That was one of my favorite parts of that trip.”

He looked up at you, a slight smile on his face, “Mine is how tired you always were at the end of the days so you would lean on me as we walked out of the park and always fell asleep on my shoulder while on the shuttles. I always loved watching you sleep.”

Your eyes moved from the pictures to meet him. The sorrow you saw was overwhelming, it made you pause and realize you never thought about how he felt when things ended.

“Luke-” you began but he cut you off.

“Please Y/N let me talk. I’ve been trying to figure out how to word this for six months and I need to tell you why I ended it.” He pleaded, his voice breaking at the end. You only nodded your head not trusting your voice. “I need to say how sorry I am for what I did. And I don’t have this epic excuse or anything. I was just being a stupid fuck. I was trying to make myself believe that I wasn’t being a complete jackass. I had convinced myself that you were miserable and you didn’t want to be with me.” His eyes searched yours, begging you to believe him. “After you left I thought I had done the right thing, that I wouldn’t feel so messed up anymore. And it did, but then I buried myself in alcohol, partying, and other girls. Hell that even worked for a time, but nothing could fill the hole in my heart. One particularly wild and embarrassing night, the paps caught up to us. And well...Ashton told me you saw the photos and that’s what brought it full circle Y/N. Even though we were no longer together I knew I had to find a way to tell you why I ruined us. I owed you that much. I wish I had planned what happened yesterday but I had no idea you would be here. The boys told me you had moved in with your college friends and I never questioned it. Never believed that you would move back home and didn’t even realize how close their Airbnb was. I had been living in a trance the last month and I think the boys knew seeing you would break me out of it.”

He stopped here, and reached over to grab your hands. You pulled back at his touch, very unsure as to how you were feeling about everything he just revealed.

“You still haven’t told me why Luke. Why did you end it?”

“I was scared.”

“Bullshit, that’s a coward's answer and you know it.”

“You’re right, I was a coward. But that’s the truth Y/N I swear by it. I was scared of how much I loved you and it terrified me that you could walk out on me one day. So I pushed you away. I convinced myself that I was no good for you. That I was a cancer to your life. I told myself that you were miserable living in L.A., that you missed your friends and family and you were alone too much due to my schedule. I told myself that it wasn’t fair what I was doing to you and that I was ruining your life. So I told you all those lies six months ago so that you would hate me and it worked,” he chuckled darkly.

You were shocked, after all this time you were getting a reasoning behind your heartbreak and it wasn’t what you thought. Or what you wanted. You always assumed there was someone else or something else that he wanted more than you, but he was just scared? He was being raw and honest with you and although it wasn’t a groundbreaking revelation, you knew it was the truth.

“Y/N, can you say something?”

“I’m just processing. Of all the reasons I never thought….” you trailed off as your mind was racing. “Luke I always thought it was because of her. That she was giving you something I wasn’t.”

He grabbed your hands again, and this time you didn’t retract. Your eyes met his and you could see the pain in them.

“That was never the case, she was supposed to just be another stupid escape but when the photos were published I went with it. I thought if I looked happy to the rest of the world that maybe I would start to believe the lie. But once Ash told me you saw those pictures of that night, I broke it off with her. None of the boys knew, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing me like that. She is my biggest regret since pushing you away.” You just nodded slightly. “I really am disgusted with how I hurt you Y/N. You were the best thing that happened to me and I will never forgive myself for making you feel that way.”

“Luke it’s-well it's not okay what you did, but I do believe you. I believe that you were scared of losing me but you should have talked to me about those fears. You were my world Luke, I gave up my life here to be with you and you never asked me to do that. Every decision I made was my own, and you should not have taken my decision away from me. You broke me Luke and I had to pick up the pieces by myself. The past six months have been impossibly hard, but I am stronger because of it. So ironically I should thank you for the pain you put me through. Before you I didn’t know what love was and what it felt like to be loved. I also know what I deserve in a relationship and how I should be treated. You treated me like an equal up until that night which is why it was so hard to accept what had happened. You also taught me to fight for what I want. I should have fought harder for you to talk to me but I was so shocked I just left. So yes, you broke my heart but somehow I’m okay.”

You broke your gaze from his and picked up the scrapbook he was looking at. Smiling at the memories you had preserved.

“You know I haven’t looked at any of this stuff since I moved in here. Seeing you last night was shocking, but I’m glad it was you who brought my phone back. Though I am still going to kill Ashton and Mikey for pulling this shit. I’m glad we talked.”

You looked back at him and saw him staring intently at you once more. A small smile danced across his lips. He reached out and took the scrapbook from you, placing it back on the table. He had his whole body turned towards you, and laced his fingers through yours. It was a familiar feeling and warmth spread from him to you.

“Y/N I know I have no right to ask your forgiveness but I am. I miss you, I miss being with you and I’m here asking - no begging for a second chance to prove myself to you. To prove that I am no longer scared and that I am still worthy of calling you mine. Do you think we could try again?”

The emotion in his voice was evident, he meant every word that he said and you knew if you decided to give him a chance that he would do everything he could to prove himself to you. You could feel it in your bones that he was still in love with you, and you knew that you never stopped loving him. But it was one thing to love him, and another to trust him after everything he did.

“I’m not sure I can forgive you just yet Luke. And as much as I want to forget it all happened, we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

The hope in his eyes dimmed as the words left your mouth. His whole demeanor changed, his shoulders dropped and he let out a small sigh.

“I get it, not the answer I wanted but thank you for being honest.” He stood to go, obviously feeling uncomfortable at staying any longer. “Thanks for hearing me out, I uh, I hope we can still be friends.” He gave you a slight smile and headed towards the door.

You stood up and reached out for his hand, pulling him back towards you.

“I said we can’t go back to how it was, I didn’t say we couldn’t go out for some pancakes.”

Before you knew it, he swept you into a hug, holding you as close as possible. He pulled back slightly and you saw the biggest grin plastered onto his face as he looked down at you.

“Pancakes sound perfect.”

#luke hemmings #luke imagines #luke hemmings imagine #luke imagine #ashton imagine #michael imagine #calum imagine #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #imagine #bands #five seconds of summer #five seconds of summer preference #part 2

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viastro · 4 years

Text

the time for us | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you and soonyoung broke up six months ago and you run into each other at the club. [requested by @shoshishua]

ミ★ genre: primarily angst, fluff at the end

ミ★ warnings: very very brief mention of blood

ミ★ word count: 2,452

ミ★ pairings: hoshi x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! another oneshot hehe. my baby requested this one! we basically had this whole deal where we choose two sentences and a person for the other to write about. the two sentences i got were, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” as well as, “what happens if I do this?” so i hope you guys like this one!

There’s only been one guy in your life who you’ve loved. You may have been young, sixteen at the time, but it felt like you and Soonyoung could take over the world. You were both hardworking, always sneaking around the dance studio at late hours to practice. As well as being ambitious, proven by the fact that whenever the opportunity for a solo arose you and Soonyoung would compete against each other for it.

It was when you both graduated high school that things started to fall apart. You were naive, thinking that since you two were together for three years you guys were practically married. Your relationship only took the turn for the worst once you and Soonyoung realized you both had incredibly different career paths. You wanted to become a nurse while he wanted to pursue dancing. You both completely supported each other, Soonyoung being ecstatic when your application for residency was approved, and you being excited when Soonyoung got into the talent agency.

However, your schedules no longer lined up as you both became busier by the minute. Your late night calls became the new system for your guys communication, but that began to dwindle as well. Suddenly the excuse, “I’m tired, I had a long day.” began to be thrown around endlessly. Which may have been true, but it led the feelings of bitterness and anger to start to rise between you two due to the lack of communication. Or should you say, the lack of effort that was being put into the relationship.

The breakup was the worst thing either of you had to go through in your twenty years of living. That may sound like it’s an exaggeration, but it’s not. It ended with tears, a slam of a door, and Soonyoung throwing a plate across the room. Your relationship wasn’t the only thing that shattered that night, for the plate broke into what looked like thousands of pieces. It was a pain in the ass for Soonyoung to clean, so he didn’t. He left the shards of glass there for months, as some kind of way to punish himself for the things he said that night, for letting you go.

He only cleaned it on the fourth month after the breakup because Chan came over and scolded him, telling him how dangerous it is. Chan basically held an intervention on Soonyoung’s behavior, and took him out to the club to try and get him to feel something again.

Little did Chan know that it would simply make things worse.

Soonyoung started going to clubs almost every weekend to just bring home different girls in an attempt to get over you. It really doesn’t work though because the whole time he’s kissing a random girl his mind is just running off of you, you, you.

He imagines that it’s you he’s kissing, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one laying with him after everything is said and done. He’s been doing this routine for six months now, and no one can stop him.

Honestly, you aren’t doing that much better either! You’re both god damn messes after the break up. You refused to leave your room the whole weekend after things ended horribly between you and Soonyoung. You’d only get up to go to work, then come back to your apartment and wallow in your own self pity.

You only started going out a few months after the breakup because Seungkwan thought you needed to find somebody new. He had the same thinking as Chan when it came to this, and that’s why you’re here in this position now.

Dressed in a silk lavender dress and a pair of flats because god knows you can’t wear heels. You haven’t looked this put together in months, but you’re slowly falling apart on the inside once you take notice of who’s sitting at the bar talking to a really pretty girl.

Yes, you guessed it, it’s Kwon Soonyoung. The guy who broke your heart six months ago, as well as you breaking his. You feel your heart pound against your chest as you look at him from the booth you and Seungkwan are seated at. His hair is no longer red like you remember, now dyed a dark black that emphasizes the sharpness of his jawline. He’s wearing a see-through shirt with a black fitted blazer over it, along with tight black jeans.

“He looks great.” You mumble to yourself as you take a small gulp of the soju Seungkwan ordered for you. Soonyoung smiles at the girl when she rests her hand softly on his shoulder, and you find a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You know yn, the whole reason we came here was for you to get over [redacted], not eye fuck him.” You turn your head to glare at your friend, who’s giving you a knowing smile.

“You knew he was gonna be here?” You ask and Seungkwan shrugs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Yeah.”

“And you thought bringing me here was a good idea… why?”

“I live off of chaos.” You roll your eyes at his answer, turning away to look around the club. The dj is playing an Usher song, which is giving you major nostalgia. Specifically, it brings back the memory of you and Soonyoung fighting for who gets center when you were seventeen. Letting out a small sigh at the thought, your eyes find their way back to your ex-boyfriend, and your heart practically leaps out of your chest once your eyes connect with his.

Soonyoung is no longer paying any interest to the girl in front of him once his eyes land on you. His heart pounds violently against his chest once he realizes it’s been six months since he last saw you. He watches as you look around the room for a moment, only to lock your eyes with his. Your eyes immediately widen for a second, only to go back to normal.

she’s so cute, Soonyoung thinks to himself. He raises an eyebrow at you once he realizes this has now turned into a mini staring contest. You finally blink, choosing to look back at Seungkwan once you feel your hands begin to shake underneath the table. Soonyoung smirks, already feeling pretty buzzed from the bottle of soju he finished.

“Um, Hoshi, hello?” Soonyoung turns back to the girl he was speaking to, only to give her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m interested tonight. You’ll find someone better, don’t worry.” Soonyoung tells her sweetly, and she gives him a sad smile. She nods her head before getting up off the chair and heading towards the dance floor.

Soonyoung turns his head to look back at you only to realize you’re not sitting at the booth anymore. His eyes widen in panic for a moment turning around in his seat to look for you. You let out a small smile as you sit down in the seat the girl was sitting in a moment ago, waiting for Soonyoung to notice you.

“Where’d she- AH!” You let out a small giggle at his reaction once he finally turns back and notices you sitting beside him. Soonyoung lets out an embarrassed cough, trying to play it cool.

“It’s been a while.” He mutters, and you glance at him through the corner of your eye, taking notice of the pink tinge on his cheeks. From being tipsy or being embarrassed? Probably both. You take another sip from your soju before answering, “Yeah. It has.”

“Why did you come here? I thought clubbing wasn’t your thing.” Soonyoung asks you, and you shrug.

“When we were dating it wasn’t, but I’m single now. Decided to try something new.” You respond, and Soonyoung feels a punch to his gut. You almost slap yourself in the face at the stupid, petty comment, but you keep your demeanor cool. Soonyoung downs another shot before standing up from the bar, feeling old anger resurface.

“I’m going to dance, it was nice seeing you.” His tone is as cold as ice, making a shiver run down your spine. You finally turn your head to look at him, and you both feel your breaths get taken away at the close proximity between you two. Soonyoung’s eyes travel from your eyes to your plush lips, and you feel your heart beat wildly in your chest. Soonyoung feels tears prick at the back of his eyes once your scent registers in his mind, triggering the feeling of home. A feeling that’s been lost for months.

“It was nice seeing you too.” You whisper softly, eyes glancing down to his lips, causing Soonyoung to clench his jaw. Before he does anything he’ll regret, he turns around and walks off into the crowded dance floor. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, turning in your seat to watch him.

Soonyoung feels your eyes on him as he begins dancing with a random girl, and it reignites the pain he thought was numbed away. You watch as the girl starts grinding back onto Soonyoung, and you feel your heart shatter once again. You weren’t ready to get over him, god you aren’t even over him. Watching the way Soonyoung starts to nibble on her neck is the last straw for you. You take one last sip of your soju before walking back to the booth you shared with Seungkwan.

“I want to go home.” You demand and Seungkwan nods his head, not needing to ask why. The heartbroken expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

“Yeah, I’ll take you home yn.”

You fail to notice Soonyoung watching you leave.

“I can’t believe I’m still not over him.” You mutter to yourself as you pace around your apartment, barefoot but still in your dress. It’s been an hour since you left the bar and Seungkwan dropped you off at home, and you spent thirty minutes of that just sitting in the middle of your kitchen eating a slice of bread.

“I know our breakup was so fucking stupid and I shouldn’t have left, but that was the past. How am I still hung up over the past when it’s been six fucking months.” You feel a sob begin to bubble in your chest as the fond memories flood your brain.

You hear a knock on your door, causing you to pause your pacing in the living room. You carefully step over, looking through the peephole once you make it to the door. Your breath hitches in your throat once you see who’s on the other side, and you quickly make it to open the door.

“Soonyoung.” You breathe out. He’s standing there in all his glory, looking a bit less put together than he was at the bar. You feel your blood run cold once you notice a red lipstick mark on his neck.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, feeling vulnerable at the way his eyes rake your figure.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you nod your head, moving to the side so that he can step in. He slips off his shoes, and follows you to the kitchen. You open up your fridge, checking inside to see what refreshments you can possibly offer him.

“Do you want a drink? Food? I only have leftovers from this one thai restaurant-”

“I still love you.” You stop mid-reach into grabbing the can of coke, knowing it was his favorite while you two were dating. You close your fridge, and slowly turn around to face him. He has tears pricking at the back of his eyes, and you feel your heart stop when he takes a small step forward.

“Y-you, you what?”

“Our fight was stupid, and it was my fault. I wasn’t trying hard enough which is so horrible because you are quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wish I stopped you from leaving that night because you never came back.” Soonyoung says, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“You’re drunk Soonie.”

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.” He takes another step forward, and you look up at him, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’ve regretted letting you go every single day these past six months. I’ve become someone so ugly on the inside. I feel like I’m not living and I’m doing stupid shit just to feel something again.” You bite the inside of your cheek even harder to the point that you taste the copperness of blood.

“I- I go to bars every weekend, I drink until I can’t remember, and I find a new girl to bring home just to make sure you’re not on my mind.” Soonyoung confesses and you look away from him, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, only for more tears to take its place. He takes another step forward so that your faces are mere inches apart. He presses a finger underneath your chin, making you look back up into his eyes.

“But it never works.”

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you, yn.” A tear falls from his eye, and you reach up to cup his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He lets out a small smile, leaning in a bit to test the waters.

“What happens if I do this?” He asks, his lips almost brushing against yours as he speaks.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, your hand dropping to clutch his shirt. Soonyoung reaches up and softly rests a hand on your cheek.

“I’m going to kiss you now, tell me if you want me to stop.” He mumbles, staring into your eyes. Another tear slips past as you nod your head, a small, sad smile gracing your features.

“Please.”

It’s all Soonyoung needs to hear before he leans in, capturing your lips with his. His lips are slightly chapped, and it tastes salty due to the tears you both shed while also tasting like soju. However, it’s nothing short of perfect. Your hand moves from clutching his shirt to resting on the side of his neck as his arms reach around your waist, pulling you closer and holding you tighter.

“Is this real? You love me?” Soonyoung asks against your lips, pulling you in again to taste your sweet lips that he’s been missing for months. A small smile escapes you, mumbling between kisses, “Yes, it��s real. I love you so much.”

After six months of Soonyoung kissing random people imagining that it’s you, for the first time it’s finally you.

it’s finally you.

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starkidpotty · 3 years

Text

The Good Side [DLM]

You and Draco lament on what could’ve been and what would’ve been fun had things been different.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Words: ~2.1k

A/N: I took a lot of liberties writing Draco out, so I’m sorry if the characterization is a little whack. (any draco writers out there...advice is welcome pls message huhu) i hope u guys enjoy it nonetheless <3

The sun beat down on the northern part of Diagon Alley that day. It was the transitional period between summer and spring, where the weather hit just the right spot and everyone was out to enjoy their time. It was quite the contrast to what you and Draco had come to discuss at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Shop.

Draco was sat across from you, people-watching while scooping up his raspberry ice cream. You decided against ice cream that day, with your hands folded gracefully on your lap. You and he would occasionally steal glances at each other, trying to urge each other to start the conversation. Whether it was pride or shyness that hindered you two from talking, you were not sure. The heat was starting to get to you, as you were now starting to get annoyed with the silence you two didn’t need to share.

“How’s the MACUSA and Ministry effort?” Draco starts, as though he were aware of the irritation building inside you. He was always one step ahead of you, a skill he still proved to have been proficient at even though it had been years after you two parted ways.

“Same old, same old–only I spearhead it now.” You answer him quite proudly. He stops picking at his ice cream to flash a smile your way.

“I always told you’d get it, didn’t I? The Ministry would be fools to let such talent go to waste.”

A heavy pause blankets you both. The air between you two was a tripe mixture of nostalgia and despondency. As uncomfortable as it was, neither of you made moves to fuel the conversation further. Draco picks at his cup again, and you fixate on a wizard carrying a stack of books making his way out of Flourish and Blott’s.

You take a deep breath in, “Alright, I think it’s time to save us the awkwardness, yeah?”

Draco puts down his ice cream cup, turning his body and chair to face you. He perches his folded hands on the table and looks at you intently. Your body is still facing the street the ice cream shop overlooks, but your head is turned to look back at him.

“I need the ring back.” He states his purpose simply.

“Then, you’ll get it back. Need not worry, Draco.” You grab your purse and shuffle through its contents until you finally palm the velvet ring box. You gently place the box on the table.

“Perfect.” Draco says to you, as he opens the ring box, examining the emerald ring inside.

“When are you planning on asking Astoria?” You ask Draco, trying to make your tone as neutral as possible.

“All I can say is soon. I just know I’m going to marry her.”

You won’t lie to yourself and say that there isn’t a small part of you that finds this deeply saddening. Draco and your’s relationship was good, to say the least–as good as it gets as childhood acquaintances to Slytherin housemates to lovers. All firsts were shared with each other: first kiss, first time, first I love you’s. You watched him as he received the Dark mark, held his hand through Lucius’ trial after the war, and watched each other in the early stages of your respective careers. It wasn’t the beginning and middle that was terrible so much as the end. There was never any big event that had caused either of you to fall out of love. There was no third party, no betrayal, no selfishness, no greed. It was quiet–that was the best way you could describe it–the ending crept up on the both of you, sleeping on your chests until the weight became too heavy to shudder away. You looked at each other and no longer sought each other out in the future. The breakup itself was amicable and neutral, with the both of you accepting that you had merely outgrown each other, despite having grown together. On some nights, imagining what could’ve been sent you down two paths, where you either resented each other or fell back in together. It bothers you sometimes to think of the latter, but you know well enough it was going to be the former.

You smile sweetly at Draco in response, looking back down at your hands as you were at a loss for words.

“I’m glad you found someone, I really am.” You say as you finally unknot the tie your tongue was in.

Draco looks around, as though making sure no one would be able to hear the next sentence to fall out of his mouth. “D’you ever think we could’ve made it to that point?”

“You did propose to me, hence why we’re here.” You chuckle lightly and continue, “but, I think we would’ve grown to hate each other, if I’m being honest, Draco.”

Draco squints to look up at the sun, trying to muster a response.

You look back at him with your mouth twisted into a half-smile, brows furrowed, mildly amused that he asked. He finally turns to you and catches your expression, making him smile slightly.

“Why do you think that?” Draco asks you intently.

“Well, I think we just became different people. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

One of the things Draco had to learn was choosing his words carefully before speaking them. He was never keen on being heedful with what he’d say, as evidenced by his formative years at Hogwarts, even when he was talking to you. However, his early years in litigation forced him to catch his tongue before it made any unfavorable comment on stakeholders during a trial. His eyes were shut in deep concentration, trying to map out what to say next to you.

“What happened between us?” Draco asks you. “I still ask myself that a lot sometimes. Not for anything, but it’s just hard for me to understand. It just happened upon us, quickly too might I add.”

You take a few moments to ponder, to craft out your dialogue, “It wasn’t that anything happened, Draco. It was moreso that nothing happened at all.”

“Did we grow to hate each other, is that it?” Draco tries hard to hide his classic schoolboy sneer, but fails.

“Draco, I could never hate you. You of all people should know that.” You huff out, suddenly frustrated at his tone.

“Sorry, [Y/N], that didn’t come out quite right.”

“S’alright, I understand.”

Draco curses himself for the drastic change in mood, he didn’t mean for it to happen.

“It’s just strange to think, I suppose.” He asks again, more careful now with his tone.

“What is?” You turn your head to face him. Suddenly, the years you spent apart are splayed on his face in developing forehead wrinkles and tired eyes. You are studying the new features on his face intently, making sure that this is the Draco you had spent more than two decades with.

“Weren’t we always sure of what was to come to both of us? As though we had so much control over the next few years of our lives?”

You breathe in and close your eyes before you answer. In a flash, you are taken back to nights spent in the Slytherin common room, talking hypothetical situations with Draco–what you’d do if in the event the hospital made a mistake and you were having twins instead of one child, what if you became a quidditch star and he your number #1 fan instead of working for the Ministry, what if you both ran off to an island off the coast of Greece and raised sheep and never came back?

You reply to him solemnly, “I think the universe is funny that way, don’t you think?”

“Merlin, you sound like you belong with the quacks in the Department of Mysteries.”

“Shut up, it’s a saying muggles like to parrot, thought it would go nicely with the tone of conversation.”

Draco pauses and continues, “Didn’t we always have our own sense of time? That extended into our plans, who our hypothetical kids would be. It’s insane to me how that changed so fast,”

“I agree.” You tell him, “We were supposed to marry each other, for Merlin’s sake!”

Draco sighs, looking off to the side.

You never held any ill-intent with how you and Draco ended, but now you realize that was just you. Not once had you considered that he was hurting more than you due to the peaceful nature of the breakup. It was criminally naive of you to have thought Draco was just as at peace as you after ending a decade-long relationship.

“Well, do you hate me, Draco?” You ask him at your realization.

“More than 10 years together and, what? Four years apart, you think I could hate you?” Draco asks you, almost offended at your question. “You know the answer to that, [Y/N].”

“Were you ever angry at me? For how,” You pause trying to look for the term to best describe, “calm I was when I told you I wanted to leave?”

Draco’s practiced this conversation so many times in his head, but he still takes a moment to process the words he wants to use to convey his emotions. “For a time, yes. I was angry with you. But not the kind of angry I usually am. It was an anger that made me question so many things.”

“I had just always thought time was an excellent indicator of a strong relationship, I mean, 10 years? Would you question it then? A decade? So, to put it simply, I was angry–angry that time wasn’t enough to salvage what we had. But, I think that was naivety talking. This is in no offense to you at all, I cherish our time together so much so. But, Astoria? It’s as right as anything, and not even time could tell me how to feel about her.”

You look at Draco in awe, wondering when he had crossed the line from boy to man in the four years you spent apart. Draco was always smart, no doubt. But, this Draco sat in front of you–carefully choosing his words and explaining his emotions–it was entirely new. You reached over to hold Draco’s hand, but not in the way you and he would hold hands years ago. It was in an I’m proud of how far you’ve grown, type of way. Draco was taken aback, but understood quickly, always privy to your emotions, whether they were tacit or overt. He squeezed your hand back.

“[Y/N], I need you to know that you are such a huge part of who I am today, I can never discount that. Ever.” Draco says to you, your hand still in his. “We’ve done so much good for each other, we really have.”

“We really have, Draco. Astoria’s so lucky, she has to know that.”

Draco’s famous smirk makes an appearance on his mouth, “I’m damn well sure she knows.”

You throw your head back in laughter, letting go of his hand, “Merlin, there you are again–cocky boy from Slytherin.”

“Cocky boy from the litigation department, I’d rather hear that.”

You both laugh at each other like no time has passed. Like both of you were back in the Slytherin common room after bedtime talking about all the dumb things two teenagers thought were important at the time. You two catch up a little bit more, further detailing your efforts in dating and at the ministry (with the former being quite futile), and he diving into how he and Astoria came to be. You and Draco filled in the blanks from the last few years until the conversation boils down to a halt. You say your goodbyes, hugging each other, wishing each other well and walking toward opposite ends of Diagon Alley.

As much as you thought this a heavy task to fulfill, you left the conversation with a light heart and even lighter shoulders. There is relief you haven’t felt since you left Draco. The relationship, as good as it was, was best left how it ended. No mourning, no lamenting could rewrite the ending or the years succeeding it in the same way no regret or guilt could change the years prior to it. All you knew was the good that you and Draco left in the spaces between you two.

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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youremeimyou · 4 years

Text

Old Lovers

pairing: Min Yoongi x reader genre: angst with sprinkles of fluff, ex-boyfriend au word count: almost 5k warning: some passionate kissing

Description: Min Yoongi is your ex-boyfriend that you’ve parted ways not on the greatest of terms with. But in the makings of a mixtape, somethings will be rekindled. Will it be friendship or maybe more?

A/N: I’ve started writing this so long ago but only recently got to finish it. I haven’t been able to post any fics in a while even though I’ve got a lot of wip. I’m graduating uni and my life’s basically a chaos right now. But I liked writing this a lot. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of it :) [posting again cuz it’s not showing on tags ughh]

Going back to school has never been this painful to you before. Of course assingments, exams and longer than necessary lectures were always there to welcome you back to hell every year but no new semester intimidated you quite like this one does. Especially after the very much disconnected summer break you had.

Spending the summer in your hometown of Gwangju was a rushed decision that was actually forced upon you at the time. But it turned out to be exactly what you needed. At least, Hoseok made sure that it was. Being your life-long friend, he took matters into his own hands when you couldn't pull yourself together after the rough patch you've been through. The Hoseok-ie rule he called it: No getting in touch with anyone in Seoul. And while it was a little hard not reaching out to close friends in Seoul, you couldn't risk breaking the Hoseok-ie rule. He's sweet and you love him but that guy is one scary motherfucker when he's pissed.

Now, summertime's over and you're definetely not prepared to face your demons. It doesn't help that Hoseok's classes aren't starting until next week, either. That means you have to go through this alone.

On your way from the subway station to the campus, you check the new weekly schedule once more and it makes you let out a dissappointed huff. You can't blame anyone. You made this schedule. But do you have any idea why you decided to put music theory at 9 in the morning while you were making it? No.

Your legs take action before you know it and suddenly you're now turning to the other street. They continue to take you through another familiar path. As you close in on the shop at the corner, the calming smell of coffee reaches your nose and you realise why coming here was more tempting than attending class.

This coffee shop was your safe haven for the past three years and this semester isn't going to be any different. Even though it's so close to campus, not many people know about it and it's never hectic. Which is something you love and right now, definetely need. Some peace and quiet before starting the semester...

You enter and head straight to the barista, who happens to be a friend of yours since you're a regular.

"Hey Ryu."

"Well well, if it isn't Miss I'll come everyday this summer that never showed up once." Ryu has sarcasm alongside with mischief in his voice.

"I know but Hoseok kept me in Gwangju as a prisoner the whole summer, I'm sorry."

"Where's that dancing machine?"

"He doesn't have classes until next week so it's just me for now." You're still not over the fact he left you on your own for the first week.

"It's fine, you're not alone. Look!" Ryu points to the back where the tables are. You're confused as to who he could be pointing at. You and Hoseok are the only ones you know that come here- except...

In a flash, you stop turning around and hurriedly order a black coffee. "Please make it quick." you plead quietly but what's done is done, he already knows you're here. In fact you can hear footsteps approaching.

"That drink was great, dude. What's it called again?" He appears on your right side in his all-black outfit with a snapback. Nothing's changed about him, you think. Except you see some of his hair through the hat and it seems to be bleached. Something he hasn't done for a while. For the two years you two were together, to be exact.

"Oh, it's called yuanyang. You think I should put it on the menu?"

"Definetely, go for it."

It seems like he doesn't even acknowlegde the fact that you're right next to him. But why the hell did he even come here? You totally introduced him to this place and Ryu. So, you should get to keep this place after the break-up. Aren't those the rules?

He takes out his wallet to pay but pauses for a second. "Ryu, can I get two cookies to go?" he asks and hands over his card.

Two cookies? You know he doesn't like sugaries that much. You're almost sure he's meeting someone and it makes you scoff, unconsciously. Both him and Ryu side-eye you but you avert your gaze. "Chocolate ones, please." he adds. You think he must be ordering your favorites just to spite you.

He recieves the cookies from Ryu, fistbumps the guy and starts walking out. But then, just as he passes by you, he leaves one of the cookies on the counter in front of you and exits without another word.

First, you're shocked. And so is Ryu, apparently. You glance at him and he confusedly shrugs. Then, you're pissed. In a moment of anger, you blast out of there to go after him.

"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you shout.

He stops but doesn't turn around for a while. Just when he's about to, you appear right in front of him, the cookie in your hand.

"What's this?"

"What does it look like to you?" he retorts back, his eyes avoiding yours. And you frustratedly huff.

"What are you trying to pull?" you ask with hints of accusation in your voice. That's when he meets your gaze.

"Nothing at all. My fault for trying to be nice."

There it is, the Min Yoongi venom you were waiting for. He opens his mouth to say something else but you beat him to it.

"Ryu doesn't seem to know that we-" you pause. And immediately regret pausing. Why couldn't you just say it?

"Oh, right. You must be thinking that life stopped while you were away." And only as he says this that you notice the dark circles under his eyes. "He knows. So do a lot of other people, by the way."

Well, shit. You might've been away from all the post-breakup commotion but he was here. He was dealing with everyone of your social circle, alone. And what's the first thing you do when you see him for the first time after all that? Lashing out at him. And when he was just trying to be nice, too. Great...

"Can you move? I'm missing class." he says coldly. But despite trying to hide it, his voice sounds tired. Which makes you step out of his way and let him go. Instead, you start making your own way to class, being already late as it is.

Safe to say it's an awkward walk to campus, with you on one side of the street and Yoongi on the other. The bad news is, you constantly find yourself looking his way. Even though you curse under your breath everytime you catch yourself staring at him, you can't help but look again. But his eyes are completely fixed on the road, not even sparing you one glance.

To escape the awkwardness, you decide taking the longer route to class by heading for the stairs at the back while he takes the ones near the entrance. Since you're late and afraid of Professor Sol, you fasten your pace. Once you reach the door, your hand clashes into someone else's. Yoongi's. Of course, you think to yourself. You should've known he's taking music theory from Professor Sol. He's the best student when it comes to music and the best teacher here definetely wants him on his class.

It's too late when you realise you haven't removed your hand because he opens the door with yours under his, making it feel as though you're holding hands.

"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence? You shouldn't have. The class is about to end." Professor Sol scolds the two of you. She isn't exactly wrong. "I can pardon a student who already excells but the one who barely passes classes, I hope you know what you're doing Miss Y/N." One thing about her is that she notoriously discriminates between students and she's never liked you.

Yoongi's hand and yours is still connected and you feel him tense up. He actually used to be your guardian when it came to Professor Sol. And apparently old habits die hard because he grabs your hand harder and steps up a little. "The last I checked, at least eighty percent of your class fails every year, professor. It includes people who rank highest in some of the other classes. Strange, don't you think?"

Only Min Yoongi has the guts to do this. And only he gets a free pass after doing it. When the professor simply points you in the direction of the seats, Yoongi pulls you by the hand he’s still holding and sits you down. There’s immediately talk going around, people discussing if you were back together and all that. That’s when he snaps out of it and lets your hand go. So you’re finally able to let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. Then, he goes to one of the back seats and sits down himself. And you quietly wonder why that hurts you.

It's Hoseok's first day back and the two of you are enjoying some coffee at Ryu's shop, after a long school day.

"Y/N, I've got some bad news." he says, looking gloomy all of a sudden.

"Wha- hurry up and tell me." You hate the suspense, it makes you worry.

"I haven't been able to find a studio that we can continue the album with." He looks really upset. That's only natural, he's been working on this project for over a year now. Before you broke up with Yoongi, Hoseok was writing and producing a mixtape in Yoongi's studio with you and Yoongi's help. After you parted ways, the mixtape was put on hold.

"I've saved a lot of money this summer. We can look into some expensive ones too, I'm sure we can-"

"It's not the money, Y/N. I can't work on it the way I want to in any of those other studios. Even if it's one of the expensive ones." he cuts in. Yes, Yoongi was probably the only person to let Hoseok do his own thing.

"Well then, you should talk to Yoongi. I'm sure he'll be cool with working with you, still. As long as I don't show up, it should be fine."

He rolls his eyes. "I can't do it without you, Y/N. I'll need your help, so you'll have to show up eventually."

It's your turn to roll your eyes. You don't want anything to do with that studio. But you know how important this mixtape is to Hoseok, so you say okay. Even though you doubt Yoongi would be fine with you being there.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In his damned, cursed, beautiful leather jacket... This time there's no hat so you can fully observe his bleached hair and notice how it's grown longer.

"Would you really be okay with it? I don't wanna put you in this position, no. Let's just forget it-"

"Hoseok-ie, you're lovely. But for now, shut up." You get up and make your way to Yoongi's table. Hoseok's mixtape has to be done, no matter what. Seems like he hasn't noticed you so you clear your throat to grab his attention.

"What?" he asks, not looking at you. Your blood slowly starts to boil.

"I need to ask you something-"

"Ryu, I kinda need that coffee asap, buddy!" He cuts you off by hollering at the barista and starts to gather his things. He really must want to get on your nerves.

"Actually, first things first, why in the bloody hell are you still coming here?" You can't help but lash out again. You discovered this place after all, you have the right to claim it.

"Excuse me?"

"I showed you this place, it's my territory. Don't you know the break-up rules?"

He laughs at that. In such a condescending way that you regret saying it. He stops getting ready and settles on the table once again. "You're cute."

Oh, you're so close to smacking him on the head.

"And you're an asshole."

Ryu comes with Yoongi's order and leaves it on the table. "I thought you were in a hurry." He says while heading back to the counter.

"I suddenly wanna stay longer." Yoongi states, looking straight at you.

Every fiber of your being wants to avoid his eyes and run away from there, he knows exactly how to make you vulnerable. But you endure. For Hoseok.

"I'll get to the point. Hoseok needs to keep working with you. Our situation shouldn't effect his mixtape, don't you think?"

He switches to serious mode quickly. "Was this your idea or his?"

"What does it matter-"

"I'm only okay with it if he wants to do it on his own will and not by you forcing him."

Okay, you do get a little bossy sometimes but he didn't have to put it as harsh as that.

"He wants to. He refused other studios and all that."

You think you see his lips curve into a small smile for a second. Hoseok and Yoongi got along very well, actually. You never wanted for them to stop being friends, anyway. This might be a chance for them to catch up even. Of course, there's a slight problem.

"But- he says he can't do it without... well, me. He wants to make sure that you're okay with-"

"Not a problem." Yoongi unexpectantly cuts you off. You're rendered speechless due to shock. He finally turns his head and looks at you. "My studio is a workplace, Y/N. Why would it bother me when you're there for work purposes? Especially when you're essential to the process."

Yoongi's sense of kindness is a very strong thing. But it's well hidden under all the coldness and sarcasm. You'd know, it had taken you a while to get to it. But when you did, it made you fall for him even harder at the time. And now, even though things between you are over, you can still see it.

"Thanks..." is all you can say while turning around to go back but suddenly your feet stop and turn back around. "Actually, thanks for before with Professor Sol, too. Even though you don't need to stand up for me anymore-"

"It's not that I needed to, Y/N. It's that I wanted to."

He goes back to gathering his stuff and you head back to give Hoseok the details of how it went. Just as you're about to, Yoongi stops by your table before leaving.

"Hoseok-ie, text me later to come up with a schedule for studio hours, okay?"

Hoseok is visibly happy and responds with a big smile. "Sure thing."

It's been three weeks since Hoseok started to work at Yoongi's studio again. But today is the first time that you'll be going there since the break-up. Even though time has passed, you're still not used to being around Yoongi all the time. Like having to attend almost all the classes with him and also, well... without him.

Without him sitting next to you, practically glued to your side, while you both silently giggle in the middle of the lecture as he whispers stupid jokes in your ear. The fact that you're consantly around him (not by choice by the way) prevents you from getting over him.

And now the studio... One of the most dangerous places for you now because of the memories you have with him there. You know, an intimate, indoor space with dim lights... A perfect spot for activities you definitely don't want to be reminded of. But for your best friend Hoseok, you have to go.

When you arrive, you call Hoseok to open up the door, too nervous to ring the doorbell. Once you enter, your giggly friend drags you hurriedly into the recording room.

"Okay warm your voice up. We should start with the vocals-"

"Wow there, pickle." you say. Vocals were maybe the only thing you told him you wouldn't do. What did he think? That he could hurry you into it and you wouldn't notice? "What vocals, Hoseok? I'm here to arrange, mix and maybe write some melodies, you know that."

"Shhh... look you gotta. Otherwise Yoongi's gonna have some other girl do it and I don't want that."

What girl? For as long as you can remember, Yoongi has tried to get you to sing. For Hoseok's and other albums. But you don't have confidence in your voice so you've always refused. And now he just wants some other girl?

"Have you told him you don't want that?"

"Yes, obviously. He told me if I can't convince you, we had no other choice. So c'mon, just try for me? Pleaseee?"

You sneakily glance out the window to see Yoongi talking with the said girl. She’s probably from your school even though you haven’t seen her here before. She’s standing a bit too close to Yoongi’s chair and leaning on him a little but that’s none of your business. And you definetely don’t care. But still, you can’t have someone whom Hoseok’s not comfortable with, sing in his own damn album.

You go out the room and toward Yoongi and the girl. “We need to speak.” you say and head for the other room. Yoongi huffs while following after you.

“What is it miss grumpy?”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really pulling an ultimatom on me like this? Hoseok clearly isn’t okay with this girl-”

“Hoseok isn’t okay with anyone but you. This isn’t my ultimatom, it’s his. Marley’s like the third person I asked to do this and he didn’t like any of them. Because what he wants is your voice. You really can’t see that Y/N?”

He sounds fed up and exhausted. What he says makes sense too, since you know how stubborn and sneaky your best friend can be.

He continues. “Look, if we want the album to proceed there are three options. First is Marley does the vocals and Hoseok will be unhappy about it. Second is there’ll be no female vocals which will make the whole thing empty and far from what we planned. Or third, you can do them and save us all the grimace.”

He makes it seem like he doesn’t care which you’ll go with but in his eyes, you can see hope that you’ll say yes to the third. But no. You’re not ready, you can’t. In your mind, you suck. So you convince Hoseok to go with Marley for now.

So, days go by. Marley comes pretty often to record. Hoseok’s not frowning that much about it anymore. And you notice how every chance she gets, Marley is pulling the moves on Yoongi. Which seem to work, since sometimes they come in or leave together. None of it bothers you at all, you tell yourself.

One day, you come in pretty late at night remembering you left your notes there. Since you have a spare key, you think you can be in and out unnoticed. Silly you because once you hear Yoongi playing the piano, you can’t just leave. You wait outside the room until he’s done and some stupid momentary courage makes you go in.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” you instantly say when you see Marley sitting next to him. “I just forgot my- I was leaving-”

“Wait!” Yoongi says hurridly to stop you. “We were done here anyway.”

Marley doesn’t look happy but gets up and leaves.

“No really, I got my notes and I was about to head out. She doesn’t need to leave on my account-”

“It’s not on your account. But since you came in here, you must have something to say?”

Why does it feel like he wants you to say something? Why does it seem like he wants you to stay? You’re convinced it’s your own mind playing tricks on you.

“No. I don’t.” you lie with a broken voice. But your feet aren’t leaving. And Yoongi is still staring at you with a cold attitude but expecting eyes.

“Fine.” you give up and say. “I thought the piano room wasn’t allowed to just anyone. I guess since she was in here...” you cut yourself off. The piano room was kind of your special place when you were together. Nobody other than you was allowed in here. This is the place you two would spend hours and hours coming up with songs. Or just talking about things you shared only with each other.

“I’m just giving her piano lessons for some extra cash. And this room doesn’t mean much to me anymore.”

His answer dissappoints you. Not the part that he indirectly said they weren’t dating. The latter part. “And here I thought the whole secrecy of the piano room was just your way of pulling the moves on whoever you’re dating.” As long as the sentence is finished, you regret saying it. You know it isn’t right. What you said is unfair to every intimate and meaningful moment you had with him here. And your words come down like the last drop on his patience.

He shoots out of the seat. “If I wasn’t so goddamn sure that you already know how you’re the first person I ever brought in here, I’d be hurt. But instead I’m just pissed.”

He’s right to be. So you can’t say anything back.

“How can you even-” he stops for a moment. “But that’s just your way, isn’t it? Spit out venom whenever you don’t like something.”

“Me?” you ask in shock. Now this you can’t have. “No. Poisonous words are your specialty.”

“And you already left me for it, didn’t you? You left me so why would you care who I bring in here anyway?” He’s switched to his shouting voice now.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But I left because you pushed me away, Yoongi.” He averts his gaze to the floor while you continue. “I know that you love music more than anything else but what I also happen to know is that you use it as an escape. An excuse to not get too close. But guess what? We were already too close for me to not realise what you were doing! And that is why I left!”

Both of you are obviously done shouting and silence takes over the room for a while. You already had to push back tears like twice now, so you decide to leave but just then, Yoongi has something to say.

“This room will never have any significance with anyone else besides you. Just know that.” he silently admits with his eyes still fixed on the ground. You don’t say anything and just walk away.

It’s nearly the end of the semester and Hoseok’s mixtape is finally finished. He was so exited that he accidentely published it three times in a row on soundcloud. And the fact that he’s getting some great feedback is the icing on top.

In the meantime, you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. After that fight with Yoongi, you’ve started to seriously consider the fact that maybe leaving him just like that was a mistake. Because yes, you were hurt that after all you had been through, he was still trying to keep you at bay. You felt like as you were falling completely and irreversably for him, he was still holding back. But when you left, you were gone all the way. Leaving him all alone when you knew he was hurt.

Spending the last couple of months together, you finally admitted to yourself that you missed him. And that it did bother you seeing him with other girls. It bothered you that Marley was so obviously into him. Even though he made it clear he wasn’t interested, you still felt... jealous.

But you never mustered up the courage to talk to him about any of these. Even though it seems like lately he’s trying not to be cold around you, trying to strike up random converstions in efforts to perhaps recover at least your friendship. For some stupid reason you can’t seem to dare let him back in.

Your buzzing phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You check and see it’s your best friend that you’ve been feeling extra proud of these days.

“Yes, my successful, on his way to become a star best friend?”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You won’t believe this!” he squeaks while talking. And you hate the suspense so you tell him to hurry up and tell you what’s up.

“Yoongi’s friend in radio 12 agreed to play the title song!”

“What??” you start to squeak in exitement as well. “When? When will it be on?”

“In about two minutes! Just put the station on, now!” he orders and hangs up immediately. He’ll probably call his parents next. You quickly do as he says and for sure, the next song is Hoseok’s title track. You start hopping in your bed, dancing around in your room with the dumbest smile on your face but then-

The bridge comes and it’s your voice. That’s impossible, you think. But it is you singing the bridge. And then it hits you. That one night you snuck into the studio with your spare key and recorded this exact bit, just to see how it’d be... As always, you thought it wasn’t good enough. But instead of deleting, you hid the file. Guess you couldn’t hide it that well, after all. Was it Hoseok that did this? Or...

Your phone buzzes again and once again it’s Hoseok. “Y/N- This was the best surprise you ever made for me. I’m literally about to cry, you sound so good! Thank you for doing this.”

It wasn’t Hoseok, then. But you’re thrilled to know he likes it that much. You’re thrilled to hear yourself on a freaking radio station that so many people listen to! It feels amazing. It gives you so much confidence. So much that after ending the call with Hoseok, you decide to go to the only person left who could’ve done this.

You’re at Yoongi’s door. You haven’t been here for a long time but despite the nervousness, you manage to knock. It’s pretty late but you know he’s a night owl, he should be up. Soon enough, he opens the door. He’s taken aback to see you at first but then his surprised expression turns into worry.

“I know why you’re here. I’m sorry I used the recording without your consent but-”

You launch yourself onto him and crash your lips on his. His response is so quick that it’s almost automatic. He pulls you in even more, closes the door with his foot and traps your body againts the wall with his own. All the while not parting your lips once. Your hands go to his hair. You’ve been wanting to brush your fingers through his hair ever since you’ve seen that he bleached it again after two years. You pull at the tips slightly. It makes him hum into your mouth.

“Wait-” he says while he pulls away suddenly. “You-” You’re both out of breath. “Are you really okay with what I did?”

“Yes.” You close the distance once again and this time he moves you to the couch. You’ve missed this couch. You’ve missed him...

He pulls back again. “Y/N- wait. What are we doing?”

“What do you think?” you tease as your lips travel down to his neck.

“I wanna talk to you first, though.” he manages to say between his panting.

“So talk.” you say and go back to the week spots on his neck, secretly smiling against his skin.

“You’re not-” he swallows a groan. “exactly making it easy.” He then pulls your head up to face him and gives you another long kiss. But this time not out of the heat of the moment. Instead with so much meaning engraved on it.

“Y/N... I never meant to hurt you.” he says staring into your eyes. “You were right, I was a coward but- I swear if you give me another chance, I will give it my all. I’ll be a thousand percent in.”

You smile. He looks so much like a lost puppy that it makes you want to tease him. “Well, prove that to me right now then.” you say slyly.

“Uhh- I will. I- I’m gonna go dye my hair brown, right now. I bleached it to get your attention, anyway. Not to attract others, I promise.” he says in panic.

You burst into laughter. When you first started dating, you talked him into not bleaching his hair anymore. You always said it was only for his health but he always knew you were jealous of girls getting attracted because of it, too. “No, don’t. I actually missed how even hotter it makes you look. Let’s keep that for now.” you say. “I was kidding, you don’t have to do or say any-”

“I love you.”

You pause. It’s not the first time he tells you that. But this time he says it in such a way that you’re certain it’s the real thing. Even more real than before. “I love you, too.”

“So...” he leans into you and whispers in your ear. “Couch or bed?”

You both giggle. “Surprise me.” you whisper back and he quickly tries to lift you but fails, making you both laugh out loud. “Umm- I haven’t been working out lately, baby. I’m sorry.” he says between giggles.

Between all the laughter, you silently thank him for giving you another chance, too. And make a mental promise that you won’t give this up so easily ever again.

....

A/N: This was my first Yoongi fic and I feel good about it. It’s really hard to imagine Yoongi not being a god at music so anytime I use him as a character, he’s always a prodigy lol. I can’t help it he’s just really good. Anyways if you’ve bared with this, thank you sooo much for reading and I hope you liked it. Let me know if you did. Always wash your hands and stay healthy :)

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

not a rebound ~ yungblud

word count: 1302

request?: no

description: after a heartbreaking break up, dom’s friend colson decides to hook him up with a friend

pairing: yungblud x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

no hate towards halsey, i actually absolutely adore her, but she’s just the ex-girlfriend in this imagine so there’s some instances of dom and colson saying not very nice things about her. i also don’t know the details of their breakup so i’m making it up for the sake of the imagine.

“Come on, man, you can’t keep moping over some bitch that broke up with you. You gotta move on from her.”

Dom looked up at Colson from his position on the studio couch. "How can you say that about her when you fucked around with her, too?”

“I got my anger out through a song, and that’s what you have to do,” Colson told him. “Now get your ass up, we’re going to write something fucking amazing and blow everyone away.”

Dom put his head in his hands and sighed heavily. It was easy for Colson to say, his fling with Ashley was very short lived, and eventually they ended up being friends again. Dom and Ashley had something real, he was sure he was in love with her. Then, out of nowhere, she broke up with him, claiming their relationship just wasn’t working out and she wanted to be by herself. Not even two weeks later, she was pictured out with another guy, and it was recently confirmed that they were together.

Ever since, Dom had just felt so heartbroken and down. He didn’t even want to make any music, although all his friends, especially Colson, were trying to get into the studio with him. Finally, feeling fed up with Dom’s sadness, Colson picked him up and dragged him to the studio to try and get his mind off the breakup, which currently was not working.

When Dom didn’t move, Colson sighed. He shook his head and sat himself down, deciding to start on the song without Dom. The two sat in prolonged silence as Colson wrote some notes down, humming them out and figuring out the songs every now and then.

Just as Dom was about to stand up to leave, the door to the studio opened and an unknown girl walked in carrying a tray of paper coffee cups. Dom sat up straighter, noticing how beautiful this woman was almost immediately.

“Hey (Y/N),” Colson said. “Thanks for the coffee. I don’t know about the sad fuck over there, but I’ll definitely need it. I’m planning on at least writing enough songs for the next album.”

“Kells, you need to slow down and rest at some point,” the woman, (Y/N), told him.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” Colson said, waving off the comment. “Oh, by the way, this is Dom. Dom, this is (Y/N).”

She turned and smiled at the young Brit. “Hey! It’s nice to meet you. Kells talks about you a lot.”

Dom tried not to visibly deflate upon realizing that (Y/N) and Colson really knew one another. She was probably another of his recent string of girlfriends or hookups.

As if reading his friend’s mind, Colson stood and wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is an old friend from Cleveland. We’ve known each other for years.”

“Colson’s like my big brother,” (Y/N) added. “Right down to the wishing I didn’t know him.”

Colson playfully shoved (Y/N), causing her to almost fall onto Dom’s lap. Although he would’ve loved to have her sat there, Dom caught her instead and placed her on the couch next to him.

“We;;, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Dom said.

“You wanna stick around, (Y/N)? Maybe you could help us write something,” Colson suggested.

(Y/N) scoffed. “I can barley speak English, let alone write a good song. I’d love to stay and watch the process, though. If I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all!” Dom responded before he could stop himself.

Colson looked between the two, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Well settle in, we’re gonna be here a while. I gotta piss, be back in a few.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and waved Colson off. Once he left the room, things got slightly awkward. (Y/N) leaned against the arm rest furthest away from Dom, putting a lot of space between the two. She pulled her phone out and began typing something. Dom longed to say something, but he didn’t know what. He was also too afraid that he’d let something embarrassing slip if he opened his mouth.

Suddenly, (Y/N) gasped. “I knew you looked familiar! You’re Yungblud!”

Dom raised an eyebrow. “Kells didn't tell you that?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Nope, he always just referred to you as Dom, and he hasn’t said anything about your song or the tour or anything. I can’t believe he invited me to hang out with one of my favourite musicians without telling me!”

Dom laughed. Luckily, this was what he needed to get the conversation rolling. They started talking then, really getting to know one another. They were so deep in their conversation that neither realized that nearly 20 minutes had passed and Colson still hadn’t returned.

“So, what are you and Kells working on? Anything big?” (Y/N) asked.

Dom sighed. “He’s trying to get me to write something, but I’m just not feeling overly creative right now. I just went through a bad breakup so I don’t feel like writing another epic hit song right now.”

“Oh yeah, Kells told me that,” (Y/N) said, shuffling awkwardly. “And I’ve...seen the pictures of Halsey with Evan Peters. I’m so sorry, Dom, that sucks so bad.”

She reached over and took Dom’s hand in hers. When he turned to look at her, he found himself lost in her eyes, as cheesy as that sounded. She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, slight blush creeping across her face.

And, of course, it was that moment that Colson decided to walk in.

“Geez, took you long enough to piss,” (Y/N) said. “What, did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?”

“Sorry,” Colson shrugged, although he sounded less than apologetic.

“Well, you were gone long enough that now I’m hungry.” (Y/N) stood. “You guys want anything?”

“Grab me a burger. No pickles, fuck that shit,” Colson responded. “Dom?”

Dom shook his head. (Y/N) shrugged and headed out the door. Colson hit Dom’s arm, causing the young Brit to actually jump. “What the fuck?”

“Go with her!” Colson insisted. “Dude, I just watched you two get super close, she totally digs you!”

“You watched us?” Dom asked.

“You didn’t actually think I went to piss for nearly half an hour did you?” Colson questioned. “I saw you two hitting it off and decided to wait and see where it was gonna go. You obviously like her, and she is totally into you. Go with her to get the food, spend more time with her!”

Dom couldn’t deny that the idea of spending more time with (Y/N) sounded great, but he shook his head at Colson’s suggestion. “I can’t. I’m just out o of a relationship, Kells, I’m not ready for anything else. And I don’t want a rebound.”

“She’s not a rebound if you really like her,” Colson told him. “I’m telling you, hang out with her, get to know her. Then when you’re ready, go out on a date with her. I’m telling you, dude, you two would be great together.”

Dom took a moment to think about what Colson said before standing and running out of the room. He caught (Y/N) just as she was reaching the door of the studio. “Hey, (Y/N), wait up!”

When she turned to look at him, Dom caught a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. It looked like hope, or excitement.

“Want some company for your food run?” he asked her.

“Yes!” she answered excitedly, but quickly regained her composure and corrected herself. “I mean, yeah. That’d be pretty cool.”

Dom laughed, causing (Y/N) to smile, and the two made their way to (Y/N)’s car.

#yungblud #yungblud imagine #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison #dominic Harrison imagine #dominic Harrison x reader #imagine #one shot #mgk #machine gun kelly

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pussy-puncher · 4 years

Text

The Pain of You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warning: It's just pure angst, there is no fluff at all (I'm not even sorry), swearing, yelling, arguing, violence, use of guns.

A/N: Y/C/N means your code name. I had so much fun writing this. This is probably one of my favorite things I've ever written. I am really proud of this. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

Tony rushes into the kitchen of the Avengers' compound where Steve sits eating a bowl of cereal. "Steve did you hear?" Tony asks urgently in a hushed tone.

"About that crazy football game last night? Yeah. That was a close one–"

Tony groans frustrated with Steve and his stupid football game, "No, Tom Brady! Nat and Y/N!"

"What? No. What happened? Is everything okay?" He asks, getting worried.

"They broke up. Wanda told me about it this morning. Y/N is moving into the compound, and Nat's staying with–" Tony is cut off by Clint walking into the kitchen.

"Me. Nat is staying with me." Clint says, his voice sounds sad. He feels bad Natasha and you had a fight and ended things. He wants to see you and Nat get together again, so she would smile for once since the breakup last week. But he also wants to beat the shit out of you for breaking her heart.

Tony and Steve look over at Clint as he speaks, "Don't talk about the breakup in front of Natasha, please. She... isn't doing too well. She's in the training room, beating a punching bag." He sits down at the table with them.

"Do you know what happened?" Tony asks his curiosity getting the best of him.

Clint sighs, "Not really. She didn't tell me much. But I do know that they had a fight because Y/N did something. But Natasha wouldn't tell me what Y/N did. She said there was yelling and screaming and things being thrown. Then Nat said that she was fed up of fighting with Y/N and Y/N got even more pissed off at that and she screamed something along the lines of 'Fuck you. It was all fake, I never actually loved you.' Then Y/N left, and Natasha came to my house crying."

Five auditable gasps could be heard from the kitchen entrance. There stood Sam, Bucky, Thor, Bruce, Wanda and Vision. Vision did not gasp, due to not really understanding the situation all that well. They all walked further into the kitchen, sitting down in seats.

"Lady Natasha and Lady Y/N are separated. This is horrible. They were so nice together. But I guess it was not meant to be." Thor says sadly, looking down at his large hands.

Bruce frowned, "They were together for such a long time and they seemed to be happy together. They could always make the other smile."

Sam sighed, "I guess all good things must come to an end, right?"

"I don't understand. Why is everyone so upset about Natasha and Y/N's breakup? It was bound to happen eventually, and it is their private matter. Is it not rude and inconsiderate for us to talk about this without them knowing?" Vision asks confused.

Tony pats him on the shoulder, "This breakup will affect the whole team, buddy."

Wanda gives Clint a look, "You told it as if Y/N was the bad guy. She's not. She's just as hurt as Nat!" Wanda stands up, anger boiling in her veins. Her eyes glowing red. She was your bestfriend and the one you went to after the fight. "Y/N didn't mean to hurt Nat but Nat just wouldn't let it go! Y/N was drunk and not in her right mind!" Wanda storms off and Vision follows in hopes to calm his raging girlfriend.

Bucky sits up, grabbing everyone's attention, "I guess word travels fast in the tower, huh? Because this morning I heard some of the newer agents talking about how Nat broke a guy's arm and his nose all because he asked Y/N out the other day."

Clint rolled his eyes and sighed, "Of course she did." He got up and headed to the training room, probably going to find Natasha and talk to her about the breaking-of-a-man's-arm incident.

Thor and Bruce head into the living room to talk about the while situation. While Sam and Bucky go to the track to run off the newly found stress.

Tony and Steve share a look. Steve speaks up, "We'll all be fine. We'll get through this together. All of us."

—————

It's been a month. You haven't seen Natasha since the night of the fight, and hadn't planned of seeing her anytime soon but Fury had other plans.

The two of you were currently standing opposite sides of Fury's office, avoiding looking at each other. Fury sits in his seat behind his desk, his hands clasped, elbows resting on his desk. He looks between the two of you with his good eye. "Sit."

The two of you look over at him then to the two chairs in front of the desk, they're sitting next to each other. You sigh and do as he says. So does Nat. Neither of you look at the other.

"This is ridiculous. You two were some of my best agents and worked together perfectly. Now you can't even look at each other let alone be in the same room together longer than 10 minutes." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "The two of you are going on a mission to Italy together."

Your eyes go wide and you look at him like he has two heads, "What?! No way!"

At the same time, Natasha's eyes widen, like yours, "I am not working with her!"

I look over at her in anger, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Do you not trust me?"

She looks back at you, you can see the same amount of anger in her eyes, "Trust you? You're the one that fucked up everything we had! So, no. I don't trust you." She yells at you.

"Me? I didn't fuck anything up! You're the one that got mad at me in the first place! If you had just been nice and listened to me it would have been fine!" You yell back.

You both started bickering loudly, standing up to get in each other's faces.

Fury tries to get the two of you's attention but fails the first few times. Then he raises his voice and yells at you both, "Agents! Sit down! Now."

Natasha and you immediately stop and look at him. You both sit down and you cross your arms over your chest in anger, muttering under your breath like an upset child.

Fury gives the two of you a stern look. "You are going to work together and you will do a good job. I also want the two of you to fix this mess." He says gesturing between the two of you. "You will be going to Rome, Italy to take out a gang selling illegal war machines and weapons."

"That sounds like a job for the government. Not S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury." You say trying to get out of this situation.

Fury looks over to you, "The weapons they're selling could wipe out a small town at the push if a button. Does that not sound like a job for S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Y/L/N?"

You nod slightly embarrassed and look down, "Yes. It does, sir."

"The mission starts next week and you will stay as long as it takes. I'll give you more information closer to time. Are there any questions?" He asks, looking from you to Natasha. When neither of you speak, he stands up. "Alright. It's settled then. You two will be going on the mission at the beginning of next week."

—————

You shoot the man in front of you then the one across the room, both times between the eyes. Then shoot the other men trying to enter the room. "Nat where are you? I'm down by the loading dock. Meet me there." You say in to your ear piece.

It takes her a moment to answer, but she does. "I'm headed your way. I've cleared the North side of the building."

"Got it." You reply. After you finish clearing your area. She meets you by the entrance of the loading dock.

The two of you just finished taking down one of the warehouses that was shipping out the weapons Fury told you about eight months ago. This was the fifth one this month you've shut down.

Natasha and you were still on bad terms but not bad enough to let the other get hurt or get in a compromising position. You both still cared for each other but neither of you had forgotten or forgiven the other for what thet had said that night.

After a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents came to take over the warehouse, you and Natasha got into your jet and set off to the safe house Fury set up for the both of you.

During the mission you are required to act as if you and Natasha are married. But only in front of people. You are both undercover. She uses the name Natania Rastelli and you go under the name Y/C/N Rastelli.

Your safe house is a small cottage at the edge of Rome with lots of land. You actually enjoy living in the cottage. It is cozy and comfortable. But you hate having to share it with Natasha.

You arrive at the place you've called home for the past eight months. You open the door, glad to see everything as you left it. You enter and walk to your desk, sitting your gun down and knives. You clean them as Natasha showers, waiting for your turn.

After cleaning your weapons, you start to make dinner for you and Natasha. You make something simple. Something you used to make the two of you when you were together.

Natasha gets out of the shower not too long after you finish cooking. She dries off and puts on shorts and a tank top. She walks out of your shared room, Fury made sure there was only one bedroom and no couch. Then approaches you, glancing at you then the table set for two.

"What's this?" She asks gesturing towards the table as you sit the plates of food down.

"Dinner." You say simply.

"You cooked spaghetti when we went on dates. We don't do that anymore. We broke up. Y/N... just because we have to act like we're married for the mission doesn't mean you have to do this." She says crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's not why I did it, Natasha." You say giving her a slight frown as you sit. You gesture for her to sit before continuing, "I did it because it's been a long time since we've eaten together." You say before you start eating.

She sits, but eyes you suspiciously. "What do you want? You never just do things like this unless you want something."

You sigh, sitting down your fork, "I want to fix this, Natasha. I want to fix us. We don't have to get back together and you don't have to tell me you love me but I just don't want there to be anymore hard feelings."

She takes a deep breath then exhales, "Yeah. Me too." You get hope and smile at hearing this. "But I also just wanted you to love me, and you couldn't even do that." Your smile falls, "I gave you my heart and you crushed it into a million pieces. How can I just give it back to you when I can't even pick it all up?" She asks as she stands and you can tell she's holding back tears. She's doing that thing. Where she pretends to smile and looks away from you as she blinks away her tears.

You open your mouth to answer but she's already run off to your shared room, shut the door and locked it. Even though she can't hear you, you still speak aloud, "I'm so sorry." You let a few tears fall then stand, grab both plates, put the mostly untouched food in plastic containers so you guys can reheat them and have them later.

You move to your desk and sit in the chair. Running a hand through your hair, sighing shakily. Knowing you've fucked the situation too much to salvage. You just have to live with what you did to her and move on.

Who knows you might find someone new and break their heart into a million pieces be happy again. Like you were eight months ago. Before you drank your senses away and screamed at Natasha until you were blue in the face and she was balling her eyes out.

You just wanted things to go back to the way they were before. But you knew even if you did get back with her it would never be the same as it was before.

Even if you fixed things, she would never forget how you hurt her, how your broke her heart into a million pieces and stomped on it.

You would never have her the same way you did. You changed her. You broke her in ways she's never been broken before.

You gave her many beautiful memories that she will never be able to replace. You also taught her that love can be an amazing feeling that makes people see the beauty in things or it can be relentless pain and constant suffering. She will never love anyone else the way she loved you.

You made her heart ache with such extreme and intense pain that the only way she can describe it is:

The pain of you.

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verytamenow · 3 years

Text

evermore reactions

1. willow

why is this giving me kate bush vibes?

“but i come back stronger than a 90s trend” I LOVE IT

2. champagne problems

“your mom’s ring in your pocket/my picture in your wallet/your heart was glass, i dropped it”

look not to be a gaylor on main but swiftgron.

swiftgron swiftgron swiftgron

di really is the one who it’s never really over with.

are we going to acknowledge the timing of the 1 and di’s divorce

it’s nice to get the “i fucked up too” song

is di due to get married to molly??? are they even still together?

3. gold rush

this is apparently jack’s favourite so here we fucking go

the open vocals are something else

taylor is a jealous bitch and i feel like it’s hot af

anyone remembering the vsfs 14 gold wing outfit karlie walked in?

“what must it be like to grow up that beautiful” BIOTCH HAVE YOU LOOKED IN A MIRROR

4. tis the damn season

the title intrigues me

“tis the damn season” cuffing season?

is this all “we’re over and it’s destroyed me?” i mean hoax as the final track of folklore gave that vibe

this is the anger phase of grief mixed with bargaining

plot twist - this is finally the reply to the guy from parachute who wrote kiss me slowly about her

emily? is this about the what if she’d not chosen fame? “it always leads to you and my hometown” = it always comes back to the same choice/trauma?

5. tolerate it

track 5, buckle up bitches and models

where is this going?

oof the chorus

this feels connected to the moment i knew

but red season just passed so i could be projecting

this is heavy in a different way for track 5

it’s not the callout the last couple of albums’ track five have been and yet i feel it

6. no body, no crime

oo i already like this

this goes hard

oh murder turn, d

idn’t see that coming

this NEEDS a music video taylor!

murderess!taylor has no right to be so hot

but she’s never hotter than when she looks like she might murder me

7. happiness

one fuck of a breakup song

this is a divorce song tbh

“when did all or lessons begin to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt” =“what you did was just as dark as when they pulled me apart”

WAIT IS THIS ABOUT SCOTT?!?!?

I think this is about Scott. holy fuck

fuck scott borcheta with a catcus

“no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too” oof why is this about my family

again vague kate bush vibes damn my father for making that a reference i can give

8. dorothea

this is a tone shift

so this is the hollywood song

why the fuck tupelo

9. coney island

“break my soul in two, looking for you, but you’re right here” ouch

anyone else weirdly relating this to mental illness? or having a loved over sinking in their mental illness or issues? all the blame and guilt and wanting to know if you could have done more to help or why you missed it until it was too late?

this also needs a music video

i’m gonna need a few listens to unpack this one

10. ivy

“i once was poison ivy”?

this feels a portal to a stone cottage in a forest clearing near a river or lake or coast. long forgotten yet lovingly cared for. hidden beyond a half overgrown dirt road

yet another affair song

i sense a theme

11. cowboy like me

dancing on this album as a metaphor is definitely A ThingTM

12. long story short

i want an 80s remix of this

it deserves it

i love this song so much

this is basically “hiddleswift was a clusterfuck and i wasn’t well”

the bit to her past me...they DID all self destruct

13. marjorie

yay it IS about her grandmother

“never be so kind you forget to be clever/never be so clever you forget to be kind” is a hell of a line

Taylor definitely has her sense of style

gods she was stunning

i can imagine how emotional she and andrea were putting together the footage

“I should have asked you questions, I should’ve asked you how to be, asked you to write it down for me” punched me in the gut. all the things i never got to ask my great grandmother, my grandfather, even my mother.

was the sound based on specific this she sung? i need to know

14. closure

this is a very different opening

Scott again?

could be an ex.

i imagine the “messy” sound is very intentional

in another life this would have been such a sassy pop single

15. evermore

yeah that sounds like anxiety and ptsd to me

december? oh now we’re bringing out the sads

the comfort to the hurt. fall and redemption.

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demigodsanswer · 4 years

Text

Once Upon a Pointe: Chapter 5

Story Summery:

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,’ Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.”

Percy, a soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he’s really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well.

Chapter Title: Diamonds

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Start from the beginning

Note:

Like the chapter itself, this note comes to you in two parts:

Part 1: Content warnings. This is the angst chapter. It gets into what happened between Luke and Annabeth and their breakup. There is talk of a relationship between someone who is underage and an adult. There are some scenes of verbal manipulation bordering on abuse. the particularly bad scene is the breakup scene. This scene is demarcated by ***** at the start and ~~~~~ at the end. If you want to skip this section, just control F for ~~~~~ when you get to the stars. Be aware, though, that some of this content is sprinkled throughout the chapter.

Part 2: There is a tendency when it comes to fiction, but esp. fan works, to conflate the events of the story with the authors moral or political stance. Annabeth talks in this chapter about a decision that she has made, and, likely, not a lot of people will agree with it. Please do not conflate this exploration of a fictional character in a fictional situation with what you think my moral or political stance on the issue is. This is a story, not my advice to survivors. On that note as well, please know that you are not entitled to my past, trauma, or research. Please do not come a-knocking demanding that I explain what may or may not have happened to me in the past or what research I may or may not have done to write this chapter. If you don't like the chapter, you are free to say so and/or to stop reading the story, but you are not entitled to my past. If you demand that information of me, I simply will not engage with your comment.

Part One: El Tango De Roxanne

“First there is desire. Then passion. Then suspicion. Jealousy, anger, betrayal. When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. When there is no trust, there is no love. Jealousy, yes jealousy, will drive you mad!”

“You’re free to leave me, just don’t deceive me, and believe me when I say ‘I love you.’”

Ten Months Ago:

Beckendorf didn’t need to be in the “Diamonds” rehearsal, but he didn’t have anything else scheduled, and he wanted to see their progress. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t been slotted to dance with Annabeth, but it seemed like the right call. Beckendorf had always felt more suited to “Emeralds” than to “Diamonds.” Annabeth, though, fit into the elegance and opulence of Imperial Russia flawlessly.

He smiled as he watched Percy turn her around, perfectly on time with the music. Beckendorf had only spent eleven months in soloist purgatory (although it had taken him four years to reach that rank); he was sure that after three years in the corps and four years as a soloist, Percy was working as hard as he could to prove himself a principal. He sure did look like one as he and Annabeth continued their dance.

Beckendorf didn’t remember his own short stint as a soloist very fondly. Almost overnight, he had gone from dancing six ballets a night to one solo in one ballet following his promotion. Even though he had more solo time, his time on stage decreased, and he was never first or even tenth in line for principal roles the way he was now. For eleven months, he was desperate to get on stage and to get promoted. He didn’t know how Percy had managed living in that limbo for three years.

If anyone had earned their promotion by now, it was Percy.

Beckendorf watched the ballet master’s eyes track Percy’s technique, face, and movement, paying little attention to Annabeth. He smiled; they were testing him, and Percy was acing the exam.

~*~*~

Beckendorf ran into Luke in the showers. “Hey, saw Annabeth dance earlier. She looked good.”

Luke smirked as he got changed, heading into his own rehearsal. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Shame she has to dance with Jackson.”

Beckendorf furrowed his brow. “Percy’s a great dancer.”

He scoffed. “You sound like Annabeth. I swear, he’s all she talks about.” Luke went back to pulling warmups out his bag to cover his tights.

“I’m sure you don’t have to be jealous of Percy,” Beckendorf said. He talked to Annabeth pretty often, and he didn’t think she spent too much time gushing about Percy by any measure. As far as he could tell, Annabeth loved Luke more than anyone.

“I know,” Luke said, the smile back on his face. “She pretty much begged me to marry her.”

Beckendorf paused. He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic about getting married. He didn’t want to pry, but he felt like he had to ask.

“Do you not want to –”

Luke cut him off before he could continue. “Check these out,” he said, holding up his phone. “Bet Jackson wishes he could see these.”

Beckendorf looked away as quickly as he had looked at the phone. “What the hell, man?!” He yelled. Luke had shown him a wall of photos of Annabeth; the images had been thumbnail size, but it didn’t take long to notice that she was nearly or completely naked in all of them. “She’s your fiancé!”

“Aren’t I lucky?” He said casually.

Beckendorf tried to wrap his head around what had just happened.

He and Luke had been in the company together for years, but they had never been close. Beckendorf didn’t even show Luke photos of his and Silena’s honeymoon. He couldn’t figure out why Luke thought what he had just done was appropriate.

“You shouldn’t show people those,” he said finally.

“Please. She wouldn’t care.” Luke said, putting his phone away.

He felt himself getting angrier with each response Luke gave. Beckendorf had great respect for Annabeth and counted her a friend. He couldn’t understand why Luke would expose intimate pictures of her, especially to him.

“Have you asked?” Beckendorf asked, trying to keep his voice below a yell.

Luke didn’t answer his question. Instead he told Beckendorf: “Relax,” with a suave calmness, as if he hadn’t just shown Beckendorf dozens of naked photos of Annabeth.

Luke’s calmness pushed Beckendorf’s anger over the top. Beckendorf slammed Luke up against the row of lockers, making some of the doors shake.

Luke put up his hands. “What the hell, man?”

“Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?” Beckendorf asked, still holding him against the wall.

“Whoa, guys, what’s going on?” Beckendorf heard Jason say, coming around the corner to break up the fight. Beckendorf stepped away. He couldn’t hit Luke. If he did, he could lose his job or be arrested. Beckendorf grabbed his bag and left without a word to either of them.

~*~*~

“What should we do about this?” He asked Silena as they left the studio.

She shook her head. She wished she had been more surprised by what Charlie had told her, but she knew Luke better than a lot of people. Dancers rarely thought about who in the costume shop was listening to them.

He had seemed nice at first – charming, sweet, all those things. But Annabeth’s career had begun to take off; she was earning leads, first-cast roles, and getting promoted through the ranks quickly. His had begun to plateau. He was already a principal (a well-respected one, at that), and he was six years older than her. At thirty-three, his career was entering its sunset phase, and hers was on the rise.

She had heard him trying to undercut her accomplishments to other dancers, attempting to take credit for roles and promotions she earned, but she had never expected him to do something this low.

“We have to tell her,” Silena said. “We can’t let him keep doing this without her knowing.”

Charlie nodded. He had expected that answer. Still, it didn’t mean telling Annabeth was going to be any easier.

~*~*~

Annabeth wasn’t stupid. No matter how cheerful Silena had tried to sound on the phone (“Can Charlie and I drop by for a few minutes?” she had asked) that something was obviously wrong. She and Beckendorf were close, of course. They had done most of their partnering together for the last three years. But they didn’t hang out outside of rehearsal that often, and they didn’t just ‘drop by.’

What they were coming to talk to her about, though, was a mystery. She catastrophized of course – worse case scenarios all over the place – and she tried to rationalize – your friends just want to hang out.

When she opened her apartment door for them and saw their grim faces, though, she went back to catastrophizing.

“Can we come in?” Silena asked.

Annabeth stepped aside and let them in. “Make yourself at home.” She told them. She had started boiling some water when they were on their way and went over to the small kitchen area to pour the tea. “Can I get you anything? I made us some tea.” She said.

They both declined but accepted the tea silently.

The two of them sat on Annabeth’s couch, while she sat in the big chair at the foot of the coffee table.

“So, what’s up?” She asked, trying to hide how terrified she was of the answer.

The two looked at each other, as if they hadn’t rehearsed this part. Annabeth looked in between, them waiting for an answer.

Finally, Beckendorf took a deep breath, looked her in the eye and said: “Luke tried to show me nude photos of you today.”

Annabeth shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she let out a small laugh of disbelief. Beckendorf’s words bounced around her head but her mind refused to process them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “what did you just say?”

Silena nodded. “Luke tried to show him a bunch of naked pictures of you that he had on his phone.”

Annabeth shook her head again, her mouth open, trying to find words or a deep breath, but both escaped her. Time seemed to halt as what Beckendorf had just told her sank in. She felt her mind and emotions go numb to the news, her anxiety subsiding suddenly and inexplicably.

“Why?” She finally asked. Her brain seemed to turn back on suddenly, finally reacting in earnest to what she had been told.

Why would he do that? Why would he do that to me? Why would he show that to you? Why did you tell me about it? She wanted to yell. She felt a fierce anger deep in her gut, like she could run the eighty blocks to the studio and make a scene in front of his rehearsal.

“I, uh …” Beckendorf paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, “it seems like he was jealous of you and Percy.”

Annabeth leaned her head back. She felt like she could scream as the rage bubbled up, finally finding words to attach itself to. “He always does this!” She said, standing up and pacing around her living room. “I mean, seriously, if I say I like partnering with someone who isn’t him, and we never partner together because he’s too tall and he knows that, he takes it as some personal attack or some sign that I’m cheating. And I’ve never cheated on him!” She folded her arms on the back of the chair, resting her head in them. “Fuck! I can’t even compliment a coworker?” She yelled towards the floor. “And now …” she paused and looked up. “Why would he show them to you?” She asked.

Beckendorf shrugged. “I told him how good you are Percy looked at your rehearsal, he said some jealous things about Percy, then showed them to me, saying that he bet Percy wishes he could see them. I don’t know if he wanted to prove something to me or tell Percy about them or what.”

Annabeth sat back down in the chair, sinking low into the cushions. Her anger subsided quickly, replaced with a deep and overwhelming sadness that seemed to rip through her chest as she began to sob.

They had gotten into a fight a few nights before over Percy. She had mentioned over dinner that she though he would be promoted to a principal by the end of the summer, and Luke had gone quiet, ignoring her for the rest of the meal. She knew what he was waiting for: an apology for upsetting him.

She hated doing that. When she was younger, the apologies came easier. She found herself apologizing for crying when he yelled at her.

“I made me cry,” she had once told him, “I knew that doing that would upset you.” She had gone to Reyna’s apartment for an all-soloists party without Luke, who, as a principal, hadn’t been invited. He had asked her not to go at all, claiming he didn’t trust other guys to behave around her. She assured him that she could handle herself. A few drinks later, it was just her, Reyna, Piper, and a few others left, all getting ready to just crash on couches, air mattresses, or beds. When she called him to tell him, he yelled at her until she was crying in Reyna’s bathroom. If Reyna had known why she was crying, Annabeth was sure she would have advised breaking up with him on the spot, but, instead, Annabeth faked a panic attack and used that as an escape.

Because she loved him. So much of the time she loved him, and their relationship was fun, and passionate, and loving. Eighty percent of the time, he was the perfect guy.

And twenty percent of the time, he sat quietly through dinner, waiting for an apology for something so minor. When she was about twenty, she learned that it was easier to just offer the apology and move on.

“Sorry.” She said to him finally.

“I don’t know why you do that.” He said. “You know it upsets me.” Luke said, not looking at her.

“He’s just my dance partner.” She protested.

“Well, you sure do think a lot of him.”

“I think that he’s talented, yes.”

He looked up at her. The hanging light fixture over their kitchen table reflected in his eyes, making them almost look gold instead of blue. Annabeth sat up straighter, ready for a fight if there was going to be one.

Instead, he stood up, plate in one hand, and dropped the dish in the sink, before heading towards the door. “I’m going out.” He told her.

When the door slammed behind her, she let out a deep breath, sinking into her seat, trying desperately not to cry. Not for him, not again. After a moment, she stood up and went to the sink to clean up. Luke’s plate was broken in the sink, cracked into three larger ceramic pieces, with little shards decorating the rest of the basin. Annabeth took a deep breath again, and place her own plate over the broken one, resolving to clean it up later.

She hadn’t expected this from Luke though. To show someone something so private and without much reason. For what? To make Percy jealous? Beckendorf jealous?

She knew the answer had nothing to do with either of them. There were truths about her relationship with Luke that were crystal clear if she thought about them for long enough, but they were terrifying to deal with.

She loved him, and they were great together so much of the time. He had promised her that they would be together and be a family. She hadn’t wanted to get married so young, but they had been together for years. When he proposed he had promised her all of that: family, security, permanence. Everything.

It was so easy to believe that promise was unconditional. But she had seen the patterns for years. He didn’t trust her, he took credit for most milestones in her career, and he certainly didn’t like moments when she soared above him. He had been on edge since she became a principal, constantly worried that she would outshine him. “I’m afraid you’ll get too good,” he had said jokingly soon after he had proposed, “and then you’ll leave me.”

It was an irrational fear – he was a great dancer, and so often male choreography existed to make the female dancer look stunning as he blends into the background.

He was never good at blending, though. He had to be the center of his own career and hers. Hell, most people in the company already resented her because they thought she had slept her way to the top, and she knew those rumors started with him. And now …

And now.

She looked up when she felt Silena’s hand on her shoulder. She offered her a tissue.

“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked.

Annabeth shook her head, not quite sure how to respond.

“I just didn’t think he hated me this much.” She said after a moment.

“Oh honey,” Silena said, pulling her into a hug as she kept crying. Silena didn’t try to convince her that he didn’t hate her, or that he had just made a mistake. She just held her and let her cry.

After a moment, Annabeth sat back up, and found herself talking in circles about her relationship with Luke; Silena and Beckendorf’s faces became more upset and angrier as the stories piled up.

Finally, Annabeth paused to drink her tea. Silena sat back on her heals and told her, “You can’t marry him.”

Annabeth sat up straighter, mug still in her hand. “Please don’t tell me what to do.”

Silena nodded. “I’m sorry, but …” Annabeth could see her searching for the right thing to say.

“If he hurts you like this now,” Beckendorf said, “it’s probably only going to get worse when you’re married.”

“It’s not like he’s ever hit me.” Annabeth said, putting her mug back on the table. That was true; he’d never even come close.

“But he controls you,” Silena said, “and he undermines you, and he violates your privacy. That’s not any better.”

Annabeth took a shaky breath. “I just … I don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Anything,” Beckendorf said, “you could do anything without him.”

“But we’ve been together for so long,” she said, “and I love him so much. So much of the time it’s so good.”

“Is it so good?” Silena asked. “Or do you spend that eighty percent of the time self-censoring to keep him happy? Do you spend that time waiting for the next time he gets mad at you?”

Annabeth hung her head and began to sob again. I can’t marry him, she thought for the first time. She had had doubts before, but she figured every bride had doubts. But Silena’s question had broken through walls in her mind that kept those doubts out. Was she happy? I can’t marry him.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” She admitted, still crying.

“Honey,” Silena said, “as long as we’re alive, you’re never on your own.”

Annabeth looked up and leaned forward quickly, pulling Silena in.

“I know you’ve been together for six years –“ Beckendorf started. Annabeth didn’t let him finish his sentence.

She took a deep breath, and before she could remember to be afraid, she told him: “It’ll be ten years this December.”

Silena pulled away from the hug and looked at her. “Aren’t you twenty-five?”

Annabeth nodded. “We went on our first date after my first Nutcracker season as an apprentice.”

Silena gasped and leaned on the coffee table for support. Beckendorf just muttered, “Jesus Christ,” to himself.

Silena looked more shocked than Annabeth had seen her in the entire conversation. “You could really sue him for this.” She said.

Annabeth hadn’t thought of that. Of course, she had known that their age gap was inappropriate and illegal, but it had never occurred to her to press charges over it (especially not considering she was planning on marrying him). “I don’t know,” Annabeth said. “I don’t even know what to do about right now.”

“Are you going to break up with him?” Silena asked.

I can’t marry him, she thought again, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. “I don’t know. I mean, an hour ago I was happily engaged, and now I don’t know what I am. It’s all just a lot, and I want to talk to him about everything and just … get things sorted out.”

Silena nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by the door opening.

Annabeth’s eyes met Luke’s, before he scanned the rest of the apartment, shooting accusatory looks at Beckendorf and Silena. Beckendorf stood up, staring at Luke before asking Annabeth, “Do you want us to stay?”

“No,” Annabeth said, “you guys can leave.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked. Annabeth nodded, and she hoped that was true.

*****

When the door closed behind them, Luke turned to her, his eyes calm. “What were they up to?”

Annabeth looked at him in disbelief. “You really have no idea why they were here?”

Luke ignored her puffy eyes and runny nose and sat on the couch. “What did they tell you?”

“So, you do know?” Annabeth asked. She stared him down, waiting for him to admit to what he’d done.

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” He said to her.

She almost laughed at him she was so angry. “Are you kidding?” She asked. “You violated my privacy, you exposed me to another dancer!”

“You’re mad at me because I love you? Because I think you’re beautiful, and I want to show you off?” He asked, moving closer to her.

Annabeth stood up from the chair and walked away from him. “That’s not what you did, and you know it.” He didn’t look guilty or remorseful. He just stared at her like she was the one in the wrong, like she was crazy for not seeing the situation from his point of view. His indifference felt violent. “We were going to be a family, Luke.” She said, her voice quivering. “You promised.”

She walked towards the kitchen, unable to look at him.

“We are going to be a family.” He said.

Annabeth sobbed again. She leaned on the sink, afraid she might throw up, but instead the words she had so far been too afraid to say left her mouth.

“I’m not going to marry you.” She said into the sink.

“What?” He asked, standing up to walk into the kitchen.

“I’m not going to marry you.” She repeated, turning around to face him. “I can’t believe you would hurt me like this.” That was a lie; he had hurt her like this before, just never in this way.

“Annabeth –” He tried to reach out to her, but she dodged him.

“Don’t touch me.” She said.

“You wanted to be a family. And we will be if you don’t throw that away over something so stupid -”

Annabeth cut him off by throwing her engagement ring at him. When that hit didn’t satisfy her, she picked up the vase of roses on the table, and raised it over her head, letting the flowers and water splash on the floor. When she moved to throw it, Luke flinched. She paused before putting the vase back on the counter. She took a deep breath, overwhelmed by her own anger. They started at each other for a moment. He felt like a stranger to her.

“I want you to get your shit and move out.” She told him.

“You can’t just kick me out.” He protested.

“Oh yes I can, your name’s not on the lease.” She told him.

Luke bent down to pick up the thrown engagement ring. “No,” he said, “but is yours? Or is it your daddy’s name?” He asked. He pressed his body close to hers. This time, Annabeth didn’t move; she stood frozen, half with fear and half with pride. She felt his left hand wrap around the curls at the base of her neck; his right hand held her left hand. From a distance, their position may have seemed romantic, but Annabeth felt vulnerable in his grasp.

She tried to look him in the eyes, but she was met with a cruel look she could barely stand. She stood still, not wanting to make him angrier than he already was.

“You wouldn’t have anything without him or me, Annie.” He told her. Annabeth shook her head as much as she could with his grip still in her hair. That’s not true, she wanted to tell him, I know that’s not true, but she couldn’t find the words. “And he doesn’t love you, not really.” Annabeth started to cry again. “You’d be alone without me.” He said again. She sobbed, resisting the urge to lean against him for comfort as always had.

He dropped the hand from her neck. The ring had been clenched against his palm, leaving an indent in his skin. He took her left hand. “So let’s put this ring back on.”

She clenched her fist, resisting it. “No!” She said, stepping back from him before he could grab her again. Her sock met the puddle the flowers had made, and she slipped backwards, crushing the roses under her weight.

Luke leered over her. He looked like he might spit on her or kick her, but he just frowned and shook his head as he slipped her engagement ring into his pants a pocket.

“You’ve never been less attractive,” he told her, before walking towards their bedroom

Annabeth sat motionless in the puddle of flowers, watching him move through their bedroom, gathering street clothes and dancewear. Annabeth couldn’t be sure of how long he’d been in there, but he emerged eventually with a suitcase and a dance bag.

“The wedding is off,” he said to her, as if it had been his idea, “until you can get your act together.”

When the door slammed behind him, Annabeth curled up on the floor and sobbed, gripping the roses in her fist. She crushed them until the petals stained her fingertips and the thorns cut her palms.

~~~~~

Part Two: Sparkling Diamonds

“He’s your guy when sparks are high, but beware when they start to descend / Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”

Silena and Beckendorf hadn’t been far away, reluctant to leave her alone, despite her protests. Once Luke left, they came back, collected her, and brought them to their apartment for the night. Annabeth was grateful for them. She didn’t like burdening people, but they were right. She hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone.

She woke up in the morning to the sound of a blender. Their ‘guest room’ was a futon in the living room near the kitchen. It had been a surprisingly comfortable bed, which Annabeth was grateful for.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Beckendorf said, pouring the fruit mix into two glasses and offering one to her.

“Thanks.” Annabeth said, taking the glass. “What time is it?”

“Seven.” he said. “Class starts in a few hours, then dress rehearsal, but I’m sure Chiron will understand if you don’t want to –”

Annabeth shook her head. “There’s no reason for me not to dance today or in the performance. I’m not sick, I’m not injured, I’m doing it.” Luke had tried to take so much from her, and she wouldn’t let him take dance.

Beckendorf could tell that there wasn’t any use arguing with her.

Annabeth stood in the wings, taking deep breaths as she watched Luke at the barre. She picked a spot on the stage as far away from him as she could find, avoiding his looks, and trying to look as though the past night’s events had no effect on her.

Class helped her refocus. It was a methodical focus on technique and control, and that’s what she needed in that moment: control.

Dance had always been her escape. It was what she did or where she went when she felt like there was no one on her side. It didn’t matter that Luke was in the company with her, she tried to tell herself, or that other people in the company had seen photos of her, what mattered was dance.

Have other people seen the photos, she thought suddenly. She hadn’t asked Luke, but if he showed them so casually to Beckendorf …

She tried to put the thought out of her mind, trying to convince herself that if someone else had seen them, they would have told her. But Luke did have a lot of friends in the company … She snapped herself out of the thought spiral, returning her attention to the ballet master’s next combination.

She wished Luke looked worse. She wished he looked like he had been crying all night, or like he had been betrayed, or like he felt guilty, but he didn’t look like that at all. He just looked like any of the other dancers. Annabeth tore her eyes away from him, refocusing on the combinations, trying to keep Luke as far from her mind as she could.

Annabeth took a deep breath as she stood in front of her dressing room mirror. Her costume glittered with crystals and rhinestones. Even her tights were white to match the tutu and bodice; her pointe shoes had been spray-painted to match. Carefully, she pinned a bejeweled hairpiece to her bun, the final bit on bling on her costume.

“Looking good,” Piper said. Piper was the Diamonds lead in the second cast, and her dressing room roommate. Second cast rehearsed after the first, so Piper was still lounging in her normal dancewear.

“Thanks,” Annabeth said, trying to steady her breathing. She had run to her dressing room quickly after class to avoid as many people as she could, but there was no avoiding Piper.

Piper had spotted that something was wrong from when they had first gotten into the dressing room. “Are you okay?” She asked Annabeth.

Annabeth shook her head as she peeled off her warmups and took down her hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Piper asked.

Annabeth thought for a moment before shaking her head. If she tried to talk about it, she worried she would break, and she didn’t have time for that. She just wanted to relax, enjoy a small lunch, and go out and run the ballet. “No.”

“Okay,” Piper said. “But I’m here if you need me.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thanks.”

Before every show, Annabeth had a recurring nightmare. They were always the same: the orchestra played her cue, she ran out on stage, slipped, and fell on her face. She would get up, and try to continue, but she couldn’t remember the choreography, or she’d do the choreography to the wrong dance. Last night, Annabeth had dreamt that she went out on stage, met the corps and Percy, all in their gilded white costumes, only she was in her red costume from Don Quixote, and she could only remember the steps to Kitri’s act one variation.

She looked down at her costume. It was definitely white. She did a few steps, confirming for herself that she did remember them.

The curtain fell at the end of Rubies, and Annabeth tried to hide herself in the shadows as much as she could as Luke left the stage, but he found her.

“Good luck.” He said smiling. To anyone else, it seemed sweet; to her, it felt deeply insidious.

She tried to smile back, but she felt her stomach churn looking at him, so she just looked away towards the stage as the corps took their place.

He barely moved away from her, taking a spot in the wings where he could see. He’s going to watch, Annabeth realized. That’s okay, she tried to tell herself. He’s just a company member. He wants to watch. He’s allowed to.

After a few minutes, the corps left the stage, and the music for the pas de deux began. Percy entered the stage from downstage left, and she entered from upstage right. They moved slowly to meet each other in the middle. For a moment, all her nerves melted away. She was doing the thing she was best at, and nothing could get in her way.

The dance was slow and elegant, and she and Percy worked well together as partners. She didn’t have to think about anything during the dance. She found peace for a moment as her body moved through the music.

She took his hand and dropped down into a penche, a standing split, one leg going straight up in the air as her body dropped forward, supported by him. Her gaze drifted past Percy though, into the wings, where Luke was still watching. She saw him whisper something to one of the young corps girls, who put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Annabeth’s heart rate rose as she lifted out of the penche, turning around to move on with the dance. On the other side of the stage, she saw the Stoll brothers, good character dancers, but also good friends of Luke. They were looking at something on a phone, smiling and not paying attention to the dance. They’re looking at the photos, her anxiety told her. They’ve seen them. How many people do you think have seen them?

She turned back to Percy; her movements less precise as she began to spiral. He could tell something was wrong, and tried to help her through, holding onto her tighter when he could to help her stay steady. He’s probably seen them, she thought. He knows. They all know.

She stopped.

She stood flat on the stage as her heart rate rose. Out in the audience, she heard Chiron call for the orchestra to pause, but his voice sounded far away.

“Annabeth? Are you …” Percy started.

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I can’t do this.” She said to him. She didn’t recognize her own voice or what she was saying. She looked at Luke one more time. He was smiling.

Annabeth turned and tore off stage in the other direction.

Her dressing room door was opened for her, and she tore inside. She was met by Piper who pulled her into a hug. “I was watching on the monitors.” Piper said, squeezing Annabeth close. “What happened?”

Annabeth sobbed into Piper’s shoulder, holding onto her to keep herself from collapsing, making no effort to explain. Piper didn’t push her to, she just held her until Chiron knocked on their door.

“Annabeth, can I speak with you?” He asked through the door.

Annabeth pulled away from Piper, grabbing tissues to wipes her eyes and nose. “Yes, can I get changed quickly?”

“Of course,” he said, “meet me in my office.”

Annabeth looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was running, and her eyes were red, but her hair and costume were still pristine. She took a deep breath and grabbed a makeup wipe, removing all traces of the streaked makeup.

She knew before entering Chiron’s office that she wasn’t going get through the conversation without crying. If he was merciful, she’d still have a job at the end of it.

When she walked into his office, he asked her to sit, looking at her with a removed sympathetic look.

“What happened out there?” He asked her.

Annabeth began to cry despite her best efforts not to. She had hoped she’d make it longer than four seconds.

The story of the night before came spilling out of her. Chiron listened silently, his eyes going wide with shock at some of the details. She finally mustered up all the courage she had and told him: “We’ve been together since I was an apprentice.”

He sat up straighter in his chair. “Well, this is all incredibly unacceptable,” he said.

Annabeth could tell that he didn’t know what else to say to her.

She had spent all morning trying to convince herself that Luke wouldn’t be a distraction. That dancers date all the time and break up. They keep going, why couldn’t she? But she knew it was different. He had a hold on her that he wouldn’t let go of easily.

She took a deep breath and admitted: “I don’t think I can keep dancing here as long as he’s here.” She started to cry again. The idea of losing City Ballet was a nightmare. Losing it because of Luke, though, was never something she expected. But it wasn’t a nightmare at this point, it was a reality she was living.

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to lose you, especially considering the circumstances,” Chiron said. “Let me work on keeping you here.” He said. She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, though. “Do you know what your next step will be?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t … I haven’t had much time to think about all of this. I just …”

“Why don’t you take some time off?” Chiron suggested. Annabeth looked at him, her heart racing. Other than a few injuries, she had never just taken time off before. “If you think that would help.” He added. “I’ve watched your career since you joined the school at fourteen. I want to see you dance here, but I also want to see you heal.”

She thought for a moment before nodding. “I think a break would help.” She admitted. “I hate to do that though.”

“Take your time,” Chiron said. “The ballet will be here when you come back.”

“Will Luke?” She asked.

“Not if I can help it.” Chiron said. Annabeth let out a deep breath and almost smiled.

“I don’t want this to be huge news in the company, though. I’m sure there will be rumors but –”

“We will do what we can,” Chiron promised her. “Do you have someone to stay with?” He asked. Annabeth nodded, hoping Silena and Beckendorf didn’t mind if she crashed at their place for another few nights. “Great,” he said. “Keep me posted on your situation. And if you pass Piper, tell her she’ll be dancing Diamonds with Percy first cast. Katie will take Piper’s second cast spot.”

Annabeth nodded, and headed out of the office.

When she stepped into the hall, she was met by Percy, still in costume and looking worried. “Hey,” he said, walking up to her, “are you okay?”

Annabeth didn’t know Percy that well, but they had been in the company together for years. This was the first time they had partnered together though, and they had started to become closer. She still didn’t know much about him except that he was kind and funny (and he had eyes so green it should be illegal.)

She was almost overwhelmed that he cared about her enough to wait outside the office to check on her. Luke, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll be okay,” she told him, hoping that was true. “I’m so sorry.” She added.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you need anything?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Thank you. I’m not going to be performing, though. I’m taking a break for a bit.”

He looked shocked, but he was too polite to ask any questions. “Good luck,” he said. “And really, please let me know if you need anything.”

Annabeth nodded and headed back to her dressing room to pack her things and tell Piper that she’d been promoted to first cast.

~*~*~

Present Day

“So, I left, stayed with Beckendorf and Silena for a few days while Luke moved out. A month or so later, I went down to Virginia until December,” she finished telling Percy.

They were sitting on her couch facing each other. She had tucked her knees up to her chest, closing herself off as she told the story. She had asked Percy to come to her apartment during the phone call, sending him an Uber. When she opened the door for him, she nearly collapsed against his chest, pulling him in for a hug. Percy hugged her back, holding her tightly. He felt grateful that she still trusted him enough to be close to him.

As she told him her story, he wanted to pull her in close, but she kept to one side of the couch, hardly looking at him as she recalled some of the more painful details.

Percy hadn’t felt this angry in a long time. He had known men like Luke before, he had lived with one for too long, and he didn’t like the idea of anyone having to put up with that, and certainly not for a decade. Certainly not still.

“Fuck him for doing that to you.” Percy said finally. He tried to conceal his rage; he knew it wouldn’t necessarily be the most helpful thing to add to the conversation.

Annabeth took a deep breath. “He’s the worst, and I can’t believe how much time I wasted with him.”

Percy moved closer to her, just close enough the rest his hand on hers for comfort.

“Did you ever end up pressing charges or anything?” He asked.

Annabeth shook her head. “I tried. It seemed like the right thing to do. I met with a lawyer and it was … awful. It was just hours of traumatizing questions of whether or not we had evidence or foundation. It wasn’t helping me get better. There was one moment where I realized that I if I had to sit on the stand, I’d be more likely to throw up or have a panic attack, rather than offering any evidence to help my case.

“So eventually, I sat down and thought about what I actually wanted. And I wanted to heal, which wouldn’t happen as long as this process was on going. I wanted him out of City Ballet, which Chiron was already working on, and I wanted him out of my life, and to get rid of the photos. So, we settled between the two of us. He’d leave the ballet and move to Portland to work for his dad, which he did, and he even let me delete the photos of his phone myself.” She let out a grim laugh. “Should have figured he had them somewhere else.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “But, anyway, he left, and I hadn’t heard from him until today.”

“Do you think you’ll go forward with something now?” Percy asked. “Because I’m sure Mr. Gmail could get that email back if you –”

Annabeth shook her head. “Probably not. I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll probably call him at some point and ask about today, but I still don’t think I’m ready for any legal process.”

“Don’t you want him to face consequences?” Percy asked. Percy thought back to Gabe, and how many times he wished that his mom would divorce him, or that a school councilor would notice that Percy was bruised. That someone would do something to get him out of his and his mom’s lives. None of that ever happened. The happiest day of Percy’s life was when they’d found Gabe in the Hudson – some unsettled poker debt and a bar fight. His mom had never let him know all the details, but Percy always figured that his body must have been even more bloated and smelly after a few days in the river. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want something similar for Luke, instead of him just walking away to a different life.

“I wanted to hurt him,” she admitted. “When I held up that vase, I wanted to hurt him, to make him bleed, to make him vulnerable. But more than that, I wanted to keep my career, to keep my life.”

“Do you think your career would be ruined by exposing him? You’ve already got Chiron on your side.”

“No,” She told him. She paused for a minute, thinking about what to say.

“You know, the day after he moved out, Jewels opened,” she said. “I went and sat all the way in the back. Chiron had pulled Luke from “Rubies,” but Jason was dancing in his place. From all the way in the back, he looked like him. But that didn’t bother me. I felt nothing. The thought of him being on that stage didn’t make me angry, and the thought of him never dancing on it again didn’t make me happy. But then “Diamonds” started. And I saw you, up on stage with Piper, and I just started to cry. Because I didn’t know if I’d ever be on that stage again.

“I left New York a few days later, and I spent months with therapists, and old dance teachers, and my journal, and Greys Anatomy reruns, just trying to figure out what do, and …” She trailed off and stared at her hands as she took a deep breath. Finally, she looked back at Percy. “I’m just trying to do what’ll make me happy, and, right now, pressing charges won’t do that, I don’t think.”

Percy didn’t say anything. She started to cry again, and he handed her a tissue and her glass of water, offering a short pause before she continued.

“We were engaged. I told him I wanted to marry him! We were a month away from the wedding. I had a dress! Have a dress; it’s still in my closet.” She looked over towards her room, her gaze distant.

“I know we like to think we live in some liberal utopia, but how many judges will look at this case – look at me – and think I’m just some vindictive would-be bride who got dumped? I have no evidence of our relationship before I was 18, and even then, it’s slim. Most people think we started dating when I was 20! It’s just my word against his.” Percy wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that there would be judges who would take her seriously. Or lawyers who would encourage him to settle, getting her a restraining order or something. But he knew Annabeth was smart; if she didn’t think that was possible or good for her, she wouldn’t do it.

She shook her head, looking down again, blonde curls a curtain covering her face. “And for what? Maybe he’ll face consequences if put before the right judge, but what are the consequences for me? I have to sit in front of a room of people I don’t know and tell this story again? Ask them to believe me?” She sobbed again.

“I never even told my dad what happened. What? Am I supposed to sit in court and say, ‘Sorry dad, you trusted me to go off to New York and I got taken advantage of for a decade in the apartment you pay for? Now watch some lawyer hold up nude photos of me?” She laughed and sobbed at the same time before continuing. “No. I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath and took a sip of water before continuing.

“Percy, I’m so embarrassed. I’ve spent the last few months trying to understand that I was taken advantage of, and harmed, and that it all wasn’t my fault, but … I lived with him for five years. I believed him when he told me he loved me. And not just when I was sixteen. I believed him when I was twenty-five. For ten years, I thought he loved me. And I’ve never been so wrong about something, and I am so embarrassed. I have a fucking wedding dress in my closet and –” she cut herself off with her own sobs, taking a few more tissues from Percy, who just rested a comforting hand on her leg as she cried.

She caught her breath after a moment. “I don’t want people in the company to know what happened. Going to trial would just mean everyone finding out. I don’t want rumors that I’ve slept my way to the top to get worse. I don’t want people to judge me, or pity me, or hate me. I don’t want people to know the photos exists, because they’ll just go looking for them. I just … I can’t give up what I have right now for a trial that might result in nothing.” She took a deep breath. “I know it might not be the right thing to do. It’s not the brave thing. But it’s what will make me happy right now.”

Percy nodded. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do to Luke, or what he felt he deserved, he reminded himself. He was at Annabeth’s apartment to comfort her, not to try and tell her what to do.

“You know, I danced the Sugar Plum Fairy when I was seventeen?” She said. Percy nodded, he had heard that story before, but he didn’t know why she was telling it. “I was in the morning class,” she continued, “before the matinee. I was going on that night as snowflake and flower. Right before class started, Chiron came up to me and told me that whoever was dancing it that night was out. I don’t even remember who I replaced, but he told me that I was going to do it. I had about four hours to learn it, get in a costume, and get on stage. And I remember Lee Fletcher was my cavalier.” Percy knew Lee, of course, he was one of the oldest dancers in the company. He had retired two years ago, but he still came back for the Nutcracker to play Drosselmeyer. He was possibly one of the kindest people Percy had met at City Ballet besides Beckendorf.

“So, Lee and I go into a studio and just start running the dance over and over with a ballet master. Then I got into a costume and waited for act two to start. While I was waiting, I remember him coming up to me and saying ‘Don’t worry. If you forget the steps, just make it up. If you forget the steps to the pas de deux, just make it up, and I’ll follow your lead.’ And I could tell that he was kind of joking to lighten the mood, but also very serious, and that was exactly what I needed to hear. But, anyway, I went out for the solo, it went great. We did the pas de deux later, it went great, and I felt like I was on top of the world. I had debuted at Sugar Plum at seventeen.” She smiled. “And then I went backstage, and one of the ballet masters just said, ‘great job Annabeth. Go bring that costume back to the shop, we need you as a party guest, a snowflake, and a flower tonight.’ And that was it. I had my moment, and it was over as quickly as it had been given to me.

“And then, this November, I agreed to do some guesting performances at my youth company. I would be their Sugar Plum for their Nutcracker performances for the first two weeks of December, and then I would move back to New York right before Christmas. And then Chiron called me and asked if I was coming back for Nutcracker. I told him I’d be back in the city on December 20th, and that was planning on doing the Spring season shows, but not Nutcracker. And he said ‘December 20th? Can I put you in for shows after then?’”

“And I just said ‘yes, of course.’ I didn’t realize until I said that how much I wanted to be back. He put me in for three shows, all with Beckendorf. The first one was December 23rd, and I was standing in the wings, waiting to go on. I felt so nervous and so calm at the same time. Then Lee came up behind me, and he was all dressed up as Drosselmeyer, and he said ‘remember, if you forget the steps, just make them up.’” Her voice caught, and she started to cry again, but she spoke through it. “Then he hugged me and told me that he was glad I was back.

“I thought no one remembered that day. It had all happened so quickly. No one was in the audience to support me. I didn’t even have time to call my friends or family to let them know it was happening, and it was over so fast. But for him to come up to me nine years later and show that he remembered that day, and that he knew how important it was to me it just … it meant to world to me. And I knew that this was where I wanted to be and dance for the rest of my career.

“And I just want Sleeping Beauty to be perfect, because I want people to know that I am back, I’m not going anywhere, and that I’ve worked hard and I’m good, and I’m not giving that up.” She paused and took his hand. “And I know you understand that.” Percy nodded. He did understand. The two of them had come from incredibly different trainings and upbringings, but somehow, they had both landed in similar situations. They were leading a ballet together, and half the company thought she wasn’t qualified to do it, and the other half thought he wasn’t qualified. But they were all wrong, and they would show them.

She squeezed his hand but kept holding on. “Today, when I was in costume and on stage again, I felt so strong. I was balanced on two tows, and I felt like nothing in the world could knock me over. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.” She smiled faintly, looking up at Percy. “I just want to keep feeling that way for right now.”

Percy nodded and smiled. “It’s your decision, and I won’t try and push you in any other direction,” he promised. “But I’m by your side no matter what.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.”

Percy took a deep breath. “I do kind of understand what you’re going through.”

He ended up telling her most of the details he remembered about Gabe. Their ‘guys secret’ where Percy gave him poker money or else Gabe would punch his lights out. His yelling, his smell, and the day Percy realized he hadn’t been the only one being hurt by Gabe. Annabeth kept holding his hand as he talked through the story, offering him comforting squeezes when it became too much.

“Then one day, he turned up dead in the river, and it seemed like all of our problems were over.” He said. “My mom and I were suspects for a little while, but they eventually figured out it was some gambling dispute turned bar fight.”

“Who knew that of all the things, this is something we’d have in common?” Annabeth joked. Percy laughed for the first time that evening.

Percy only noticed how long they had been holding hands when Annabeth let go of his. She turned her body to face foreword, putting her feet on the ground for the first time in hours. “Anyway, I hate to ask you this,” Annabeth said, “but would you be willing to stay here tonight? Just in case he tries to come around or something? If not, I can call Silena, I’m sure –”

“Annabeth,” Percy said, “of course I’ll stay.”

She let out a deep breath and smiled. “Thanks. You can take the bed.” She said.

“Absolutely not. I’ll be fine on the couch. I’m not taking your bed away from you.”

“No, seriously, I’ll be fine. Besides, this is a pull-out couch.” She said, patting the couch cushions.

“That might be worse.” He said.

She stood up and stretched. “How about we settle this later, and for the time being, we pop on a movie? I can make popcorn.”

“That would be fantastic.” Percy said. They didn’t have a rehearsal the next two days, so they could afford to stay up a little late. They both needed to unwind.

“I have Netflix. I used to have more DVDs, but Luke took most of them when he moved out. All he left were Moulin Rouge and the behind the scenes footage for the Lord of the Rings movies.” She said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Wow, what a psycho.” Percy said.

“He took Psycho too.” She added. Percy laughed, before standing up.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Wanna melt the butter?”

A few minutes later, they were sitting on Annabeth’s couch, under the same blanket with a bowl of popcorn in between them, as Baz Luhrmann’s colorful early 2000s masterpiece started. Musicals weren’t Percy’s favorite genre (although he was always partial to Ewan McGregor), but he understood them. They were like ballet. Musicals and ballets were things that your logic understood, but your emotions did. And Annabeth had a number of emotional reactions to the film.

By “El Tango De Roxanne,” they had finished the bowl of popcorn, setting it on the table, and she had taken his hand, gripping it with anticipation as the scene went on.

Percy worried about their movie choice the Duke ripped the diamond necklace from Satine’s neck, before stripping her and abusing her, but Annabeth kept her eyes forward as the music swelled. “You made me believe that you loved me,” The Duke said to Staine. Annabeth didn’t move, but Percy squeezed her hand as the Duke tore at Satine’s clothes. She didn’t move until Satine’s death; Percy watched her quickly wipe tears from her face.

“Luke always hated this movie.” She said. “Probably why he left it.”

Percy could figure out that a movie that punishes jealousy in love would make Luke squirm. He wanted to ask what Luke had against the behind the scenes footage of The Lord of the Rings, but it didn’t seem like the appropriate time.

When the credits rolled, Annabeth wiped her eyes quickly, before standing up to take the popcorn bowl to the kitchen.

“So,” she said, “you’re taking the bed?”

“Absolutely not,” Percy said back, “you’ve had a very long day, and it’s your bed. You’re taking it.”

“You are my guest and an absolute saint for listening to me for hours and hours.” She walked back to the couch and poked him in the chest. “You are taking it.”

Percy laid down on the couch. “Nope, I’m just fine right here.”

Annabeth groaned. “You know what? It’s a king-sized bed, why don’t we each just pick a side?” Her face was a little red, but that might have just been from crying.

Percy nodded, trying to seem casual. They had done plenty of intimate things on stage, but that was their job. Sharing a bed platonically felt like a new level of intimacy unmatched by any ballet moves or stage kisses. “Alright, but you’re picking which side first.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “If you need something to change into, I might have something.” She offered.

Percy looked down at his sweatpants and tee shirt. Usually, he just slept in his boxers, but that wouldn’t do for tonight. “I’ll be alright in this.” He promised.

They took turns in the bathroom, and Annabeth found him an extra toothbrush to use, which he was grateful for. He texted his mom, briefly explaining the situation to her. Sally had texted back: “Thank you for staying with her, I’m sure she appreciates it. Be safe.”

“It’s not like that.” He texted back. She just sent back the shrug emoji and a blue heart.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Annabeth was already in her pajamas – just a plain black tee shirt and flannel pants. She had gotten under the covers on the side near the window.

Percy almost smiled getting into bed with her, but he held back, not wanting to make anything weird. It was weird enough being in Annabeth’s bedroom at all. Most of her furniture was white, and her shelves and dressers were decorated in photos of her dancing, trophies, and a few old pairs of pointe shoes that she had written the date on and the name of a show. Before she turned the light off, Percy noticed a pair hanging by their ribbons over the nightstand on his side. They were particularly faded with age, and the ribbons were fraying. “The Nutcracker, 12/6/2011” they said. Percy smiled.

“Thanks again for staying.” Annabeth said, already rolled over away from him.

“Of course.”

She reached over to the lamp on her nightstand and clicked it off, leaving them alone in the dark.

~*~*~*~*

A/N: Sorry this became so thematically tied to Moulin Rouge. It wasn’t that way about five hours ago. Damn you Baz and you’re wonderfully stylized musical.

Jewels: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9Z2-0GVvIE&t=4374s (skip to 59:31 for the pas de deux) Kitri act one variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOvXo841L1o Sugar Plum Fairy solo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pKwCEfGRDU Sugar Plum pas de deux: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qy6dlGpC3Ns (this is not the NYCB choreography, but you get the point) El Tango De Roxanne: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rn0xXo1gwGY

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #charles beckendorf #silena beauregard #luke castellan #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #once upon a pointe #Piper McLean

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Galactica, Chapter 39 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things were looking rocky for Violet and Sutan.

This Chapter: Sutan tries to get some answers.

***

“I would ask what you’re doing here-” Violet was looking straight ahead, her spine perfectly straight, “but I assume that that’s an Elite model.”

“Correct.” Sutan barely kept himself from shifting from foot to foot as he stood behind her, his hand curled into a fist inside of his suit pocket.

It had been less than a week since he had last seen Violet, less than a week since he had kissed her, but it felt like forever.

“I was hoping-” Sutan bit his lip, keeping his voice low, nodding to one of the Galactica employees who walked by him, keeping up pretense that this was perfectly normal, that he wasn’t talking to Violet at all, but simply standing behind her.

He had no idea what he was hoping for, had no idea why he had gone along with Raja’s insane plan, but he had to know, had to figure out what had happened between them. “Violet, can we talk?”

"I'm at work." Violet didn’t look back at him, but she wasn’t walking away either. He had never experienced her so standoffish before, had never not been near the center of attention when he was around her.

"So am I?" Sutan wanted to take a step forward, wanted to reach out and touch her, but he knew it wouldn’t be appreciated.

"Then you're not doing a very good job at it."

Sutan clenched his fist, a flare of anger burning through him. He wanted to give into it, wanted to reprimand her for sarcasm and throw it back in her face, but he forced the emotions down.

“I just want five minutes of your time.”

"To do what exactly?" Violet shifted from one foot to the other, crossing her arms even as she still looked ahead.

"To discuss something I know you don't want me to say in public."

"Sutan-"

He wasn’t proud of how immensely satisfying it was to hear her waver, how good it felt to hear the quiver in her voice, but it meant that he was right, meant that somewhere, something had gone wrong, and that they had a chance to fix it.

"Please."

"Fine." Violet looked around the room, probably making sure that she could actually leave, before she turned and left. She hadn’t asked him to, but Sutan still waited for a few seconds before he followed her into the hall, making sure they weren’t acting suspicious.

Sutan looked left and right, wondering for a moment if Violet had bailed, but then, she was there waving him over as she swiped her key card, opening a door to an empty office, gesturing for Sutan to go inside.

“There.” Violet closed the door behind them, turning the lock before she looked at him. “Say whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Sutan raised an eyebrow, anger rearing its head once again. “You’re acting very hostile for an adult who thought it was cool to send a breakup text.”

Violet flinched, and Sutan had to force himself not to smile at the pain he had caused her, forcing his thumb in the wound so satisfying.

“And writing ‘Thank you for everything’? What does that even mean?”

“It means exactly that.” Violet crossed her arms, her lips set in a thin line. “Thank you. For everything.”

“So you meant it?”

“What gave you the impression I didn’t?”

“You’re seriously breaking up over a text?” It wasn’t often that Sutan could feel his control slipping, but it was impossible not to raise his voice. “Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

Violet didn’t say anything, and somehow, that only made it worse.

“Who are you? The Violet I know wouldn’t act like this, she isn’t cold or cruel-”

At those words, Violet flinched once again, Sutan apparently hitting her exactly where it hurt.

“Do you have nothing to say?”

The fingers on Violet’s upper arm tightened, digging into her own flesh, and for a moment, Sutan thought she’d really stay silent, that she’d refuse to say anything, but then, she spoke.

“Maybe you don’t know me.”

Sutan snorted, the response so bratty and selfish. “Apparently not.”

This time, instead of a quick flinch, Sutan saw Violet’s entire face crumble, her eyes widening, hurt radiating from them before she managed to resculpt her expression.

“I, I know it wasn’t fair of me to send that text but I couldn’t see you, I couldn’t do it if I-”

It wasn’t much, but it was all the sign Sutan needed to be confirmed in the fact that they were making a mistake.

“Violet-” Sutan took a step forward, but Violet moved back, her back pressing against the door. “Let’s talk. Please.”

“No.” Violet shook her head. “I don’t think we should be together. This isn’t working.”

“I don’t accept that.” Now, it was apparently Sutan’s turn to be selfish, Sutan’s turn to be the brat. “We’re great together.”

Sutan couldn’t remember the last time he had essentially begged someone to stay with him, wasn’t even sure if he had ever done it, girls usually the ones begging him, but he refused to let Violet go without a fight, refused to let her think she could just slip away.

“I like you.”

“Stop.” Violet looked like she was about to cry, her nails digging in. “Stop saying you like me when I can’t be the person you want.”

“What?” Sutan felt like his brain rebooted. Couldn’t be the person he wanted? “What do you mean?”

“Do I have to say it?” Violet’s brown eyes were blank with unshed tears. “We don’t belong in the same world.”

“I thought we had already talked about this?” When he had found out that Violet was an assistant, Violet had voiced the same concerns, had told him that they couldn’t be together because of status, but Sutan had never cared about status, at least not status like this.

He had told Violet as much, had spent time with her in Paris which she hadn’t reacted to, so it couldn’t be status she was talking about.

“I don’t care-”

“Well I do!”

Sutan almost took a step back, Violet actually raising her voice.

“Is this about my age?”

Sutan knew he had asked, that he had asked more than once, but 18 years was a big difference, and it was the only thing he could think of, the only thing that made sense.

“No!” Violet’s eyes widened, a genuine expression of surprise on her beautiful features. “No, no of course not.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Sutan didn’t want to raise his voice, didn’t want to lose his cool, but he was dangerously close to it. “I don’t understand, and I’ve been killing myself trying to figure it out-”

“I’m not one of your IT Girls.” Violet threw her arms out, obviously beyond frustrated.

“.... What?” Sutan knew he had to be staring like Violet had grown a second head, but he couldn’t believe the words that had just left her mouth. “What are you talking about-”

“I can’t pose for photos or be online like Raven,” Violet bit her lip, one of her hands grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, her fingers twisting into the fabric. “I can’t go to events with a moments notice in brand new clothes no one has ever seen before-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, no one’s asking you to-”

“You told me Monday,” Violet looked directly at him, “that I had to go to a party on Friday for one of the biggest fashion editors in New York.”

“Oh.” Sutan paused, feeling like an absolute idiot. “Was that the first time I told you about Bianca’s party?

“Yes!”

“Well shit.” Sutan put a hand in his pocket, chewing on his lip. He was so sure he had told Violet that they would be going together, and knew for a fact that he had told Bianca weeks in advance, but he also knew that he had a terrible tendency to forget to actually include others in his plans, Raja chewing him a new one in Paris for the fact that he hadn’t told Violet they would be at the dinner. “Sorry about that.”

Violet froze, her eyes narrowing. “Sorry?”

“Yes.” Sutan nodded. “Sorry. That was my bad.”

“I-” Now, Violet was the one looking at him like he had grown a second head. “How are you so calm?”

“How are you so calm?” Sutan smiled, throwing it right back at her. “At this point I’m used to girlfriends throwing plates at me.”

It was true. At this point, he would usually be defending his life in fear of flying objects or risking an eardrum from the excessive melodrama and yelling.

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“And?” He knew they were still fighting, knew that they were still arguing, but he couldn’t help it. “You could be, if you wanted to-“

“Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” Violet sounded genuinely frustrated. “I can’t be that IT Girl, I can’t do those things-”

“I have, and I don’t understand what the problem is?” Sutan shrugged. “You don’t need to be an IT Girl, you don’t need to act like something you're not. I haven’t asked you to be on social media, actually I kinda like that you’re not-”

Sutan knew he was going on a tangent, but for once, it was nice not to have to pose for photos, nice not to have an audience in his relationship, nice to know with absolute certainty that Violet wasn’t doing things with him for some sort of performance of a perfect lifestyle.

“-and if you don’t want to be in pictures, that’s not a problem either.”

“You’re not listening.” Violet almost groaned. “I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

“And you’re not listening to me. Violet. I don’t want you to be the person you think I want you to be. I just want you to be you. I like you, and I like us, and I like it when you’re my girlfriend.”

“Is that what you really want?” Violet looked at him. “For us to be…” Violet gestured vaguely, and Sutan realized that they hadn’t actually had that conversation yet, that they hadn’t made it official between them, but now that it was on the table, now that he knew Violet didn’t actually want to break up, he was absolutely certain.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“I’d like that too.” Violet smiled, and Sutan took a step forward, pulling her in by the waist for the kisses he had craved since arriving. He pushed her against the door, Violet moaning into the kiss, her fingers tightening on his shirt.

“Mmh.” Sutan hummed, pressing his body against her. It felt wonderful to drown in her, felt so good that he couldn’t help but reach out, his hand reaching for her ass, his hips thrusting toward.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” Sutan grinned, pausing as he put space between them, his right hand still grabbing a handful of her perfect ass. “Not sorry.”

“You,” Violet focused on him, her cheeks flush. “You have lipstick on your face.”

“Better kiss it away than.” Sutan smirked, capturing her lips once again.

***

“Mmmh,” Bob tapped his fingers against his mug, watching as Violet stepped up to the machine. Maxwell and Jovan were discussing their Halloween costumes, Jovan talking about some party he was going to in Brooklyn.

“Hey, Violet?”

“Yes?”

Bob had been in tailoring all day, overseeing the fittings. He couldn’t sew anything original to save his life, but he had a knack for the math behind it all, Bob in charge of purchasing and the more technical aspects of the project management they constantly did in design.

“What the deal with you and Sutan Amrull?” Bob asked, a sly grin on his face, Maxwell and Jovan going quiet the second he said Sutan’s name. Bob hadn’t been looking, but it had been impossible not to notice that Violet had mysteriously disappeared, Sutan sneaking out just behind her, Bob’s eagle eyes instantly seeing that Violet wasn’t wearing lipstick when they had returned, and he had been dying to ask her about it all day.

“Who?” Violet didn’t look away from the machine, pressing the buttons Jovan had shown her earlier. “Oh, you mean Raja’s brother?”

“Come on!” Bob snorted. “Tell us. Is something going on there? I saw you leave-”

Violet paused, her fingers around the mug she had selected.

Jackpot.

“And I saw you come back with no lipstick on.” Bob grinned, his fingers almost tingling with the excitement he was feeling. “You were wearing lipstick this morning.”

“If this is true, I’m filing a complaint.” Maxwell smiled, crossing his arms. “Sutan Amrull is so hot.”

Bob wiggled his brow, thankful for the fact that Maxwell played along, his boyfriend always knowing exactly what to say in his own weird way.

“You think?” Violet picked up her mug, blowing on the hot beverage. Her face was impassive, but Bob swore he could almost see a smile play on the corner of her lips.

“I would climb him like a tree.” Maxwell smirked, causing both Violet and Jovan to laugh, Violet leaning against the table.

“Now come on Chachki!” Bob urged, hoping that Maxwell had buttered her up. “Spill the tea.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Violet took a sip of her coffee, and if Bob hadn’t seen them, he’d have almost believed her.

“So why was he in the same photos as you at that party?”

“How would I know?” Violet gave a sweet smile, lifting her mug before she turned around and walked back to her desk, Bob equal parts offended that she wouldn’t answer, and impressed with how well she had wormed her way out of it.

“I will get to the bottom of this, ma’am!” Bob yelled after her, looping an arm around Maxwell’s shoulders, pulling the man against his side.

“So,” Bob looked at the other two, Jovan swinging his legs as he was sitting backwards on a chair. “They’re totally fucking, right?”

“Why are you asking me?” Jovan raised a brow.

“You share a workstation! You should know everything about her!”

Bob loved his job, and he liked being a manager, but if there was one thing he hated about his position, it was the fact that he had his own desk and his own space.

“Yeah, we haven’t really discussed who she’s banging.” Jovan wrinkled his nose. “Sorry.”

“Well, I’m very disappointed in you,” Bob sighed, shaking his head sadly.

“I hope she is,” Maxwell grinned, reaching up and intertwining his fingers with Bob’s. “Someone should be.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bob exclaimed, all three of them bursting out laughing.

***

Raja heard the door to her office open, soft music playing as she was attempting to fight the beast that was her email inbox.

“I’m busy.“ Raja has specifically told Ivy that she was unavailable for the rest of the day, but for all the great things her assistant was, insistent and firm wasn’t very high on the list.

“I found it.”

Raja looked up, a hint of excitement in Fame’s voice.

“Found what?”

“It!” Fame was smiling brightly, her lips red, her blonde hair curled, a tan coat over a white dress. “The inspiration!”

Fame walked over, sitting down in the chair in front of Raja’s desk, and Raja quickly saved the email she was writing, locking her computer since this could talk a while.

“Charles accidentally crushed one of our coffee mugs two weeks ago, so I’ve been meaning to replace them all.”

“Of course.” Raja hid a smile. It was so perfectly Fame, the woman somehow never done decorating or redecorating her house.

“I was walking around Sara, and that’s when I found it.” Fame reached into the small paper bag she was carrying, the sound of silk paper rustling when she dug into it. “Look!”

Fame pulled a ceramic cup out of the bag. It didn’t have a handle, the ceramic glaze a delicate light beige, little specks of golden freckles scattered all over it.

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

“I guess.” Raja took the cup, weighing it in her hand. She could see why Fame was attracted to it. It fit comfortably in her grasp, the craftsmanship of it both whimsical and to the point, the fact that it was handmade perfectly clear as Raja looked at it further.

“It’s what I want for the Spring collection.” Fame looked like she had just handed Raja the key, like she had given her a full portfolio of realized sketches, content and happiness radiating from her.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

***

“Coming in!” Violet giggled as Sutan pushed her, moving her out of the way so he could get back into bed. He had gone to get rid of the condom, Violet still naked under the duvet, and she knew she’d have to deal with it sooner or later, but right now, she just wanted to cuddle.

“Hey there.” Sutan smiled as she got into his space.

“Hey.” Violet smiled, tilting her head upwards for a kiss, which Sutan thankfully gave her, the man slipping underneath the duvet with her.

She loved being naked with Sutan, loved the feeling of skin against skin, loved the weight of his body when he pressed her down just like he did now, Violet’s legs falling open to allow him in.

She had come over right after work, Sutan undressing her before they had even reached the bedroom, her bra lost somewhere in the living room, but that hadn’t mattered when his hands had been roaming all over her body, those wonderful, wonderful hands.

Sutan tugged on her hair, and Violet moaned into the kiss, her hips stuttering at the electrifying pleasure pain, her toes curling.

“Huh.” Violet opened her eyes to see Sutan looking at her, his face illuminated by the bedside lamp. “Seems like someone liked that?”

“I-“ Violet swallowed, shame suddenly curling in her stomach.

“Hey,” Sutan smiled, his hand still in her hair. “I’m not judging,” Sutan leaned down, kissing her cheek. He wasn’t, of course he wasn’t, Violet was just about to open her mouth, to say thank you, when she felt a hot breath against her ear. “If only I could get hard again and fuck you like you deserve lovely eyes.”

“Oh-“ Violet swallowed a moan, her entire body suddenly flaming hot.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to pull your hair and ride you like a mare?”

Violet didn’t even register that she was nodding, wasn’t aware until she felt the warm chuckle, Sutan so close to her.

“How interesting.”

“I- I-“ Violet could feel how hard her nipples were, her pussy achingly empty and embarrassingly wet. “Hand.”

Sutan pulled back, leaning on his arms, a surprised expression on his face. “Hand?”

“Yes,” Violet reached up, her fingers catching Sutan’s forearm. “Hand.”

“Ah,” Sutan grinned, clearly catching on. “Hand. Of course.”

It was all she could think of, Sutan’s clever fingers buried deep in her, his thumb pressing against her clit, his lack of nails meaning he could touch and fuck and take in ways she’d never been able to herself.

“Please.”

“Your wish,” Sutan smirked, “is my command.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #vitan #violet chachki #raja gemini #bob the drag queen #miz cracker #yvie oddly #miss fame #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au #smut

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