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seradyn · 3 months

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Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

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cupid-styles · 1 month

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golf (sugar daddy h)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint

sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Mia doesn't care about golf.

Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those.

And of course, Harry loves to golf.

It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.

Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go.

She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.

So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no.

Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand.

Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop.

"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"

"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."

He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself.

She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."

But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea.

. . .

Mia sucks at golf.

Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?)

"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"

Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end.

"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"

Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance.

Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it.

She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt.

"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"

"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"

"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."

She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much.

"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"

She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up.

"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head.

"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."

Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road.

"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."

Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.

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strangersmunsons · 4 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 5 Prompt: Love Notes 💌 ~ 2,300 words Eddie writes you an anonymous love note. it doesn't go according to plan.

Dear ____

I hope you’re not too weirded out by this. To be perfectly honest with you, it seemed like a really good idea when I saw this pink paper in the art room and swiped it, but now I’m not so sure…

Ah, fuck it. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? The pen has been put to paper — I might as well nut up and finish the job.

I really like you. I think about you all the time.

You don’t know me, but we had a class together two years ago. And on the first day, when I was still fresh off a jilt by a different girl, you came in and sat down. I didn’t think much of anything at first; you were just another body in the classroom, and I was wallowing in self-pity, nursing my metaphorical wounds. But as the minutes passed, I found myself glancing over at you — at first just once, then again, and then again, and then I was staring, and all I could think was: she’s really beautiful. And then I couldn’t stop looking.

Day after day I’d watch you in class and in the hallways and anywhere else you and I happened to be occupying the same space. I still do. There’s just something about you that keeps drawing me in. You seem so genuinely good and kind, like you would never hurt anybody, not even a guy like me. But I still can’t bring myself to approach you, because I look at you, and then I look at myself, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved that way, by someone as perfect as you. I can’t take the leap no matter how badly I want it.

I have dreams about you. I dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand, to put my arms around you, and to feel yours around me. If my subconscious is feeling particularly indulgent, I might get a kiss. But mostly in these dreams we just exist together, which feels like the most unattainable fantasy of them all. They’re the sweetest dreams to have but the worst to wake up from.

I’m not sure why I’m confessing this all to you now. Everyone else is sending each other candy grams and roses; I suppose it means I’m not as immune to this Hallmark-conspired holiday as I thought. If nothing else, I hope this gives you at least an inkling of how wonderful you are, in case you ever had any doubts. You’re a sweet girl. Anybody would be really lucky to be with you. Especially me.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Deliberately omitting his signature, Eddie sets his pen down and stares at the paper in front of him, rereading the fucking novel he just wrote you.

See, now this is far too much.

Cheeks violently red, he slumps over the table in embarrassment. God, he sounds like such a serial killer! He can’t give this to you, no way. Even if it is anonymous.

…can he?

On one hand, you might find it touching. On the other hand, you might find it both disturbing and grossly predative.

If it’s truly any one thing, it’s honest — Eddie has spent the past two and half years being completely and utterly infatuated with you. He’d call it love, if he’d ever said a single word to you. But instead he’s camped out here in the library during his lunch period, spilling his guts out all over this cotton-candy pink paper, with no intention of revealing his identity.

He sighs, and with nimble fingers, folds the paper into a shape that resembles a heart. Tucking the love note into the pocket of his vest, he wrenches himself away from the table and stalks out of the library. His expression is sour; to the outward observer, he looks mightily pissed off, although what he’s really experiencing is a fierce combination of ambivalence and humiliation towards his own actions. You’d never guess that his heart is thumping wildly against his chest as he speeds through the empty hallways, getting closer and closer to your locker, still uncertain of what he’s going to do when he actually gets there.

But he knows that if he’s going to do something, he needs to do it now, because lunch will be over in mere minutes, and then everyone will start pouring out of the cafeteria.

133…134…135…there it is.

Eddie stares at your locker as though in a trance. He fishes the note from his pocket and simply clutches it in his fist, mind racing.

Can I? Should I? If she’s disgusted she won’t know it’s me. No. No. Maybe I shouldn’t. Bad idea. BAD. Or maybe…I should…

“Whatcha got there, freak?”

A beefy arm shoves him violently from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fingers automatically close around the note, instant panic setting all his nerve endings on fire.

No. Oh God, no.

He quickly tries to haul himself back to his feet, but he’s outnumbered. Two jocks pin him to the ground by his arms, thwarting any desperate punches he might have swung. A third yanks the note from his hand, smoothing out the meticulously-folded paper he’d poured his soul onto.

There’s a roaring in his ears, but it’s not enough to completely drown out the bell ringing in the distance. Then the student voices start floating down the hallway, alerting Eddie to the fact that, not only is he about to suffer greatly at the hands of these meatheads, but he’s unfortunately also going to have an audience when it happens.

The third jock holding the note reads it silently, a slow, evil grin splitting across his face. He starts howling with laughter. “Shit, Munson! I mean, I figured you’d be desperate for pussy, but this? This is a whole new level of pathetic.”

“Give it back!” Eddie snarls, desperately trying to free himself.

The third jock doubles over, cackling, then reads aloud in a nasally, mocking voice, “I have dreams about you…”

One of the goons pinning Eddie down snorts, and loosens his grip. “Hold up, I wanna read it —”

Eddie, sensing his chance, breaks out of their grasp, and makes a move to snatch his note back. Before he can, the third jock crumples it into a ball and tosses it over his head to one of his friends; Eddie makes a wild grab for it, and misses.

High school students start to trickle in, drawn to a fight like flies to honey, crowding at the edges of the scene.

The four boys play a game of Eddie-in-the-middle, the onlookers puzzled but intrigued, watching the mysterious paper whiz back and forth through the air. Growing angrier by the second, fed up with the childish antics, Eddie finally stops trying to catch the note. Instead, he cocks his fist back and lets it smash into the third jock’s nose.

There’s a collective “oooh!” from the mass of students. Eddie and the jock scuffle, both now determined to fuck the other one up as badly as possible. One goon steps in to help his friend, while the other scoops the wadded-up paper off the floor, so he can finally skim the content of Eddie’s heart for himself.

And then suddenly, the most devastating thing of all: the asshole is hollering your name over the din.

For the first time ever, Eddie finds himself hoping that the bully he’s fighting actually kills him. Because death would be better than this.

“Where’s she at? She’s gotta hear this — hey, guess what! The freak is in love with you!”

Eddie wheels around in horror. The other goon grabs him from behind, rendering him motionless again, but it barely registers. The crowd has parted like the Red Sea, everyone stepping aside to make a clear path for you to walk through. You approach nervously, looking completely bewildered as to why you’re being summoned. Eddie wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

The goon thrusts the paper out to you. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he sneers.

“More like a stalker,” the third jock interjects, voice thick from his swollen nose. He steps in front of Eddie and gives him a bloody smile, flexing his hand menacingly. “Hold his face steady for me, would ya?”

“Stop it!” you shriek suddenly, snatching the paper without bothering to look at it. “You’re such assholes!”

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Principal Higgins has finally decided to do his job, it seems. He marches through the crowd — “Get to class, all of you!” — and pulls the two boys apart.

“My office. Now.”

He corrals the four boys down the hallway, towards the office, as the other students scatter about, flushed with excitement. None of them cast a backwards glance at you, head bent, reading the crumpled note with a furrowed brow.

An hour later and Eddie’s finally trudging his way through the parking lot.

He’s been sentenced to three days’ suspension. The guy he clocked made it out with one after-school detention, which he’ll most likely get out of due to basketball obligations, and the other two got off scot-free. Principal Higgins’s reasoning was that Eddie, because he’s the only one who did any ‘real’ damage, should get the worst punishment.

Sure, he threw the hardest punch. But the idea that any of those three are suffering worse than he is right now is downright laughable.

The hot, bitter embarrassment of it all is making his skin itch. There’s a lump in his throat; he can feel the start of angry tears prickling in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he starts driving — the last thing he needs right now is an excuse for one of Hawkins’ finest to pull him over. God knows how much they love doing that.

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t turn around, rage and shame making him want to disappear. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, or ever again, probably.

“Eddie! Wait!”

A light hand caresses his back, then curls around his bicep. He whips around, already on the defensive; you flinch backwards at his aggressive stance.

As soon as he sees that it’s you, all the tension in his body dissipates. His eyes widen and his lips part in shock; his skin becomes dead-white, then bright red in the span of about four seconds.

“I’m sorry,” the words tumble out of his mouth. “For the note — for everything. You weren’t supposed to know it was me.” He stares down at his feet, unable to look at you.

“Did you really mean it? All that stuff you said?”

Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well…yeah.” He rubs his clammy forehead with his hand in distress, heart rate spiking again. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m the biggest fucking creep, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to give it to you —”

“I don’t think you’re a creep.”

Eddie falls silent. His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and he’s surprised to find that you don’t look…angry. Or repulsed, or even annoyed. Your gaze is soft, the corners of your mouth pulled slightly down in a worried frown. You look concerned.

Is that for him?

“You swear you weren’t playing a joke on me?” you ask.

Eddie starts, taken aback. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that to you, ever. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

You nod slowly, seeming to believe him. You swing your backpack off your shoulder so you can unzip the front pocket, and pull the dreaded love note from inside. Eyes roaming the paper once more, a small smile appears on your lips. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” Then your expression turns more serious, and there’s a slight tremble in your voice. “And I’m so sorry that those jerks did that to you. That was terrible. But you don’t have to be embarrassed about me reading it. I love the note. Thank you for writing it.”

He can scarcely believe this conversation is happening. He’s thought about you standing in front of him like this for years — imagined what it would be like to have you look at him and really see him, the way you do right now. Now that he’s living it, it’s almost too much for him to handle.

You hesitate, like you’re unsure of what to say next. “Um, to be honest, I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

“How could I not?” he says dazedly. The notion that he might not know who you are is absurd to him.

You shyly avert your eyes, like you’re overwhelmed by the praise. Pressing on, you tell him, “You did get one thing wrong, though.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I’m not perfect — certainly not too perfect for you to come and talk to, or — or ask out. I think you’re a good guy.”

Is there air left in his lungs? It doesn’t feel like it. “Oh,” he manages faintly. He’s too scared to say anything else, that a single incorrect word will break this spell.

You give him a gentle smile. “So…are you busy right now?”

Eddie hides his shaking hand behind his back, blushing furiously. “No, I’m not busy right now. Actually, um, I’m not even allowed back here for the next three days, so…yeah, I’m — I’m pretty open.”

You nudge his arm playfully. “Do you wanna go do something?”

Even through his leather jacket the contact makes his skin tingle. “Yes!” he practically shouts, then lowers his volume. “Sorry. I mean, you read my note. So you understand that this is kind of a big deal for me.”

You laugh, and not unkindly.

“Well, let’s get going then. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #we're an hour late! sorry bout that

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

Note

omg i have an idea

eddie x reader

shes gareths best friend & eddie always liked her

she would show up to their performances & campaigns for eddie but eddie thinks she likes gareth so eddie starts bringing a new girl & he chases reader away , she stops showing up to everything & gareth is upset with eddie, fluffy at the end

Ugh I love a good Eddie being stupid and bringing new girls around

Y/N had the biggest crush on Eddie Munson ever since she met Gareth. Eddie and Gareth were always together and did everything together. It was impossible to see Gareth and not run into Eddie. She didn't stand a chance. And Gareth being a best friend, teased her for it.

"do you think you'll ever actually play on the campaign or sit and drool over Eddie the whole time?" Gareth mocked as they walked towards the drama room.

"shut up. I do not" she scoffed, smacking his shoulder.

"oh come on! I think once I actually saw drool on your chin. The day he wore that silver chain on his neck!" Gareth pointed out, laughing as she tried to hide her face

"okay that wasn't fair. He can't wear a chain and hang over the table and just let it dangle there. That was like.... shut up!"

Gareth laughed harder as she tried to walk faster, he was hot on her feet, preparing to tease her even more

"you so had a wet dream about that didn't you?"

"GARETH!" she screamed shocked. Her face heated up because she in fact did have a very wet dream about that chain.

The two were laughing and pushing each other as they walked into Hellfire. In their own little world, not noticing someone new at the table

Eddie stiffened as the two walked through the door. Watching as they laughed and pushed each other. Flirting with no care in the world. Eddie had a huge crush on Gareth's best friend. He can't even remember when his crush started but it's been way too long. Every time he wanted to make a move he was reminded that she was Gareth's girl and he could never do that to his best friend.

He needed to move on and forget her. Sitting and watching the two whisper and her getting flustered was breaking him down. He knew he should talk it out with Garreth. Gareth has had years to make her his, there was something stopping him. Eddie definitely had a fair shot but it was so easy to tell that Y/N stuttered and got shy whenever Gareth's lips were near her ear.

"if you two want to stop giggling. We have someone new" Eddie snapped. The two finally looked up. Shock on both of their faces as their eyes went to Eddie's left, a beautiful brunette sitting with a smile.

Gareth looked from the girl who's hand was on Eddie's arm, to Eddie, to his best friend. Watching as Y/N swallowed the biggest lump in her throat.

"maybe it's not what we think" Gareth whispered into her ear, smiling and throwing his arm over her shoulder. Walking her towards the table as she was frozen in her spot

Eddie felt his jaw clench when Gareth whispered in her ear, throwing his arm on her. Eddie answered their actions with his own. His large hand making its way on the girl's shoulder. Wrapping his arm and practically shoving her in his chest.

Y/N tried to avert her eyes away but her brain forced her to watch. Gareth sighed next to her, questioning Eddie with his eyes. Gareth was so going to kill the long haired bastard.

Eddie spent the whole camping ignoring her existence. Gareth glared at Eddie every time he looked in his direction. Y/N sat silently and watched as Eddie flirted with the gorgeous new girl. Insecurity filling her body the more she compared herself to her.

After the hard challenge of watching hellfire last night, Y/N still wanted to attend the band's performance. She wore her merchandise and got in her car. She held her breath as she pulled up to the bar.

She made her way to her usual spot at the front booth near the stage. Waiting patiently for the boys to come on

"Y/N right? It's Erin!" Y/N felt her body deflate as Erin smiled and sat down. Her perfect body was framed by a tight deep red dress. A dress that she knew Eddie would be on his knees for. She tried to shrug it off, smiling at Erin. She hated how perfect this girl was for Eddie. The alternative look just fits her so well. It wasn't like she had to try at all.

Once the band was cleared off stage, Y/N was met with silence again. Erin quickly filling it

"so!..." She trailed off

The awkwardness was obvious

"you and Eddie huh?" Y/N asked, trying to sound supportive and interested. Trying to ignore the pain of Eddie being with someone else.

"like together? No. We just have hot sex" Erin shrugged, throwing back her drink

Y/N felt herself clench her eyes. The blow hit her way harder than she wanted it to. Good news, they weren't dating. But bad news, he was fucking her. He was kissing her. He was being intimate with her. Doing the shit she dreamed about

"oh..right" Y/N said quietly. Holding her full glass as she tried not to cry

"There she is" Eddie teased, grabbing Erin by her jaw and shoving his tongue down her throat. Y/N looked away as fast as she could. Trying to block out the sounds of the groaning.

She sighed in relief when Gareth walked over. Grabbing her hand silently and yanking her out of the booth

"you don't need to watch that" he snapped, dragging her to the bar, as far away from Eddie as Gareth could.

"he's fucking her Gareth. Look at her! She's practically from a porno magazine"

"stop. I know what you are thinking and she's nowhere near better than you. He's just being dumb " Gareth knew Eddie liked Y/N, which is why he doesn't understand what the fuck Eddie was doing.

"no he's not. He likes her and is having fun. I never made a move so no harm done. The blonde at the end has been staring at you since last week. Go have fun, I think I'm going to go home" she said, giving him a hug.

Gareth pulled away with a sad smile "he's going to regret this you know"

She laughed and shook her head in disagreement. Pushing him towards the blonde.

Taking a deep breath she walked towards Eddie and Erin. Forcing her legs to move closer as Eddie groped her in public

"hey Eddie?" She coughed loud

Eddie pulled away, lips covered in deep red lipstick

"what's up?" He asked breathless. His eyes looking at her, growing worried as she looked seconds away from crying

"I'm not feeling good so I'm going home. But I wanted to say good job tonight...as always. I'll see you tomorrow" she smiled and quickly moved out of the bar as fast as she could.

Eddie watched her confused. Eyes searching the bar for Gareth, growling as he watched Gareth kissing a random blonde

"she looked really upset" Erin spoke outloud

"yeah...I think I know why" Eddie snapped. Eyes never leaving Gareth.

After that night Y/N decided it was best to not attend hellfire or go to the gigs. It was too hard to watch Eddie and Erin. She accepted it, nothing she could do. Eddie was single and free to have sex with whoever he wanted.

"it's been a week, are you sure you don't want to come?" Gareth asked softly.

"no I think I'll go home and study. Plus Bethany told me she's excited to watch you play. I don't want to third wheel" she joked

Gareth smiled and nodded

"I get it. I'm sorry he's doing this" Gareth said kissing her forehead. He felt horrible for his best friend. Always hyping her up to ask Eddie out because he knew Eddie felt the same. Now he had to watch his best friend fall apart.

Eddie felt his body stiffen as Gareth walked in with the blonde from the bar

Y/N hadn't been to hellfire or their gigs for a week, and all because Gareth decided to spend his time with Bethany.

"you are unbelievable" Eddie snapped, not waiting a second to get in Gareth's face

"what?" Gareth scoffed

"is she why Y/N refuses to come around now? How can you do that to her! Lead her on and shove your tongue down Bethany's throat and leave her in the dust!"

"Eddie trust me you have no fucking idea what you are talking about" Gareth growled. Eddie was the one to blame not him

"oh please! We all know she's in love with you!" Eddie hated saying it outloud. A reminder why he could never be with her

"IT'S NOT ME THAT'S BREAKING HER HEART" Gareth screamed. Eddie doesn't get to break her heart and try to blame other people for it.

"THEN WHO IS?"

"YOU MUNSON. SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU"

'"she's what?" Eddie choked out

The room was silent. Everyone watched as the two fought back and forth. The confession on Gareth's tongue sat in the air

"she loves you Eddie. And she couldn't handle seeing you and Erin together so she left. You happy? Fucking asshole" Gareth snapped, grabbing Bethany's hand and leaving the room

One by one the room cleared out. Eddie stood frozen in the same spot. Blinking and trying to figure out what Gareth just told him

"do you like her?" Erin asked softly from behind him

"no...I'm pretty sure I love her" Eddie admitted out loud for the first time. Hands shaking as he rubbed his face

"god I fucked up so bad" he groaned, throwing himself in his chair

"look, if she's truly in love with you she's not going to be over you that fast. She might be hurt right now but if you clear the air and fix it, I think she'll forgive you. All you did was hookup with someone else. You didn't know she had feelings for you. Don't beat yourself up over it" Erin advised, patting Eddie on the hand as she got up

"it was fun Munson. Now go get the girl" a smile on her lips as she went out the door.

"YOU TOLD HIM!" Y/N screamed as she smacked Gareth over and over

"it slipped out I'm sorry!" He apologized, trying to dodge all of her hits.

The two froze when her doorbell went off. She raced to the window to see Eddie's van parked in the street

"oh my god it's him" she panicked

"good! This is what you need" Gareth said, racing to the front door

"DON'T OPEN IT!"

He ignored her and yanked open the door

Eddie smiled softly, eyes looking behind him as she came running down the stairs

The second she made eye contact she sighed. It was now or never.

"fix it dick" Gareth spit out as he went around Eddie to walk out the door

Eddie coughed and shut the door behind him

"Gareth told me some things I was very unaware of and I'm sorry. I hate that I hurt you"

"you didn't know. I refused to tell you so I'm not mad at you for hooking up with Erin. You are single and are allowed to do single people things"

She said shrugging

"doesn't mean you deserve to be forced to see it. I shouldn't have rubbed it in your face. I was being stupid and jealous" he admitted. His brown eyes refusing to leave her eyes

"jealous? Of what?"confusion written all over her face

"I thought you liked Gareth. I thought you were head over heels in love with him and that he loved you too. I've had these feelings for you since forever and it hurt watching you flirt and whisper into each other. I acted out of jealousy and wanted to show that I can move on"

"we actually whispered about my embarrassing crush on you" she laughed awkwardly. Eddie smiled at the confession. Stomach doing flips that they talked about how much she liked him

"were you successful?" She asked once her laughing died down

"about what?" Eddie asked. He wasn't sure what she was asking

"moving on from me?" Her nervous eyes searched all over his face. Swallowing another lump in her throat.

"not in the slightest. I don't think it's possible to move on from you" he admitted, stepping closer to her body

Moving a hand up her arm to her cheek. She was soft and warm. Exactly what Eddie thought she would be

"me too" she breathed out. Moving her body so it was pressed against his. She loved how hard his chest was and his hot breath.

"I'm in love with you" he said into her lips, inches away from connecting himself to her

"I love you too" her breath leaving her lungs as Eddie pressed his lips into hers. Grabbing her hips and pushing her harder against him. She groaned and pushed him against the door. Her hands are working up his chest. A finger hooking around his chain necklace. Desperately clinging on to each other. Whimpering into each other's mouths.

"come back to hellfire and our gigs?" He asked, pulling away just an inch. Forehead pressed into hers

"if you keep wearing the chain" she smirked, yanking the silver necklace and crashing her lips on his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming

@eddiemunsonsbitch69

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff

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serafilms · 6 months

Text

song 24! message in a bottle (taylor swift) + aang requested by @fylithia (spotify wrapped event)

but now you’re so far away and i’m down, feeling like a face in the crowd, i’m reaching for you, terrified

It’s been years now since the war ended. Years since you and your friends saved the world, defeated Zuko’s father and brought peace to the four nations once more. Ever since, everyone’s been busy trying to piece the world back together. Katara’s been staging a feminist revolution in the water tribes, Toph has been reinventing Earth bending, Suki taking the Kyoshi Warriors all over and recruiting, Sokka inventing, Zuko rebuilding a nation and Aang flitting all over the place.

You, on the other hand… What have you achieved? You went back to your village and spent some time telling stories of your adventures to children, then picking up odd jobs on fishing boats and cargo ships to hitch a ride to wherever your friends are off making history. You tell yourself you like the simplicity, like not having to worry about the fate of the world, but you feel like about as insignificant as a speck of dust at your biannual (twice a year) catch ups.

I’m like an old lady telling stories to relive her glory days, you think bitterly.

But you like reliving them. You miss adventuring and seeing the world with your friends. You miss when you were all just kids and there were no real titles or duties in the way (aside from your common goal of ending the war, of course). You miss when Aang looked at you like you’d hung all the stars in the sky, when he was just a boy who liked you but never said it, and when you liked him but refused to show it. Now you feel like you’re miles apart, like he’s on the top of the mountain and you’re left waiting at the base.

You still all write each other, Aang more than the rest but you can’t shake the feeling that it’s out of pity; it’s an obligation to you as an old friend. They’re busy now and that’s not their fault, and you all really would have no reason to go back to camping out. In fact, with the Avatar and Fire Lord especially, it was probably a security risk.

You’re too busy drowning in your own misery to notice Katara until she’s already nudging you in the arm. “Hey, why aren’t you over there with everyone else?”

Starting a little in surprise, you stare at her for a second before sighing as you kick your foot into the dirt and watch the dust rise.

“No reason,” you lie. Because I don’t want to talk to you guys. Especially Aang.

Your time alone has dulled your social skills, because Katara stares at you for a good seven seconds before you realise she expects you to keep talking.

“I think it’s just a little overwhelming to be around many people when I’m usually by myself.”

Her face softens and she reaches out to put her hand on your knee. “But it’s us. We want to make you comfortable and be around you. You know that, right?”

You nod, and she squeezes then releases you. “Let’s start small. Aang!”

Your chest flickers with panic as his bright eyes locate you instantly and he leaves his conversation with Zuko without a second thought. Katara takes his place, striding back up to the group as Aang stops right in front of you.

You feel your heart lurch at finally seeing him up close after spirits knows how many months. He's taller than you now, so it's not hard to avoid his gaze, but you can't tear your eyes away yet. His eyes sparkle at you and you feel yourself flush at how cute he looks with faint freckles dusting the upper part of his cheeks.

"Hey," he greets you softly, taking a seat beside you. "How are you?"

"I'm good," you find yourself saying, despite your mind being devoid of any thought that's not of him. His smile that's as sweet as ever, his eyes, his pink lips. How he's so, so out of your league.

Much like Katara, Aang seems unsatisfied with your short reply. "What have you been up to?"

Thinking about how much I love you. You can't say that, of course, so you babble on about the courier job you did a few months ago, which was great because you helped find a few new Kyoshi Warriors for Suki. When you look back at him once more, Aang has a soft look on his face, and a smile that seems to be there without his knowledge. Your face flushes, stomach flips and something akin to hope rises within you.

His cheeks turn pink when you've trailed off and he realises you're looking at him.

"Wow," he says. "That sounds really great."

You roll your eyes a little, feeling a sense of familiarity. "It's fine, you don't have to pretend you're interested. I know it's all boring compared to the work of the great Avatar."

"No, really," he insists, and there's an urgency in his voice, as if he needs you to know how genuine he is. "I think everything you do is amazing."

You smile. "Really?"

Aang nods down at you, eyes wide. "Well, yeah. I mean, it's you."

Embarrassed but pleased, you look down at your shoes before looking back up at him. "Thanks, Aang."

He grins at you, before glancing over to the others. "Wanna go catch up with everyone else?"

You take a look over at your friends. They look normal now, like a group of friends laughing, instead of the incredible figures they are. You nod at him and he extends a hand out to help you up. You take it.

You can't tell him how much he means to you, but you feel closer now. All you can do now is hope that one day, he gets the message.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #aang x reader #atla x reader #avatar x reader #atla imagines #atla imagine #avatar imagines #avatar imagine #avatar the last Airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender imagines #aang imagine #aang imagines #written works !#2023 Spotify wrapped event !

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wondernus · 1 year

Text

˗ˋˏ a winter interlude ˎˊ˗

synopsis: maybe this is meant to be an interlude – an unforeseen passing moment in each other’s timelines. but with the stroke of a conductor’s baton, the symphony lands on the fermata hovering above the note. do we allow this interlude to become something longer than a short period in our lives, or do we end it after all of it is over?

pairing: wonwoo x coworker!reader

genre: romance, drama, light angst

tags: children's book illustrator wonwoo, publisher reader, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, food/drinks, work husband jeonghan cameo, small town dynamics, snowed in, scene where reader almost gets physically injured

wc: 11.3k

message from nu: waaaa first fic of the year. special special special thank you to my beloved madi (@heartkyeom) for being my beta reader well after midnight. I also wanna thank mars (@onlymingyus) for being mars c: I remember a while ago I answered an ask with a possible wonwoo work husband spinoff. this is it. this is wonwoo's work husband spinoff. this can be read as a standalone fic. happy winter and happy new year to all of you. I hope you all enjoy this svthub snowventeen collab fic - nu ♡

wondernus's masterlist / snowventeen collab 18+

one

“Don’t forget to wear you layers because it’s about to be chillier as the week passes by. For those trekking into the mountains, make sure you look out for weather updates from the signal tower and stay indoors because a large snowstorm is about to paint the mountains white. Stay safe, and have a great day. Now, onto Yoon Jeonghan with the traffic.”

“‘Trekking?’ What are you? A protein bar wrapper? Anyway, thank you Joshu-"

Never really understanding why other people say they often find themselves turning down the music while driving to see better, you find yourself doing the same – driving in silence as if the silence could create such a frictionless surface that would shoot and propel your car to your destination. A couple of hours late to your annual winter work retreat, a clear understatement defined by the speed at which you are driving, what was supposed to be a carpool event turned into you sitting in a pool of cars while stuck in traffic.

The Sun shines lightly, a gentle kiss against your skin, but not enough to hug everything it touches in warmth. With the heater on high, you sit in your front seat sweating and dreading the moment when you have to get out of your car, thighs peeling off the leather seats and leaving a pool of sweat where you were sitting. Perhaps it is not the Sun and the heater’s heat that causes you to sweat, but a psychological factor – an amalgamation of stress and anxiety that stemmed from the moment you realized you were late.

No longer can you allow yourself to forgive him that easily, yet you really did not want t blame him for giving you incorrect meeting minutes. But when the retreat itinerary clearly stated to meet in the morning at seven in front of the publishing house, you should have known better than to wholly trust your ditzy new intern to attend your office meeting while you traveled out of town to hunt down your author for her overdue speculative fiction novel draft. Instead of writing the correct time to meet, he incorrectly noted the arrival time.

This unprecedented-precedented blip is the catalyst for a series of chain reactions that would metaphorically send you pummeling down the steep side of a mountain in a snowy avalanche that you could have avoided. But you do not know it, nor do you know how it, whatever “it” is, ends.

Dark circles under your eyes and a forgotten paper-thin pimple patch a jolt over a speedbump away from falling off your oily skin, you keep telling yourself that everything will be okay once you get to the camping grounds. Hopefully, this sort of denial could make up for the fact that you spent all of last night kicking your feet under your covers while binge-watching the reality show that your favorite boy group filmed rather than packing for your trip. But there is only so much your heater turned on high can do for someone wearing an old flimsy university tee with a couple of cat teeth-made holes who forgot to put their contacts in last night. You are better off skipping the winter retreat, but you are already nearing the mountains. There is no turning back – especially on winding roads.

And the embarrassment. This feeling of creeping anxiety seemingly washed away the moment it stepped foot into your head even though you are utterly unprepared and inappropriate for being late to the paid work retreat. Because this sudden realization hits you mid-drive: the only person who you would be embarrassed to meet in your current situation is excused for the retreat. Reasons unknown. And not that you would let any man define you, but at your core, you are simply a person with an embarrassingly big fat crush on your co-worker (and seemingly everybody else you work with). This crush is so bad that if HR made every team create their own set of photocards, you would put his in a protective cover with tiny holographic hearts, and then in a sturdy toploader decorated with overpriced stickers. One glance at him would put you in a trance, daydreaming about what it would be like to wake up in his arms on a sunny day with birds chirping outside your window, and him with a soft smile on his face.

Except for one thing – he hates your guts, so you decided to hate his too.

They always say “try, try again,” but how many tries would it take before the attempts turn Sisyphean? Sure, Hades enchanted Sisyphus’s boulder so that it would roll away before Sisyphus reached the top, but what about you? Car tires struggling against the icy roads, you drive carefully so your car does not turn into a giant hockey puck or a curling stone on (what is essentially) a giant ice rink. But being careful does not help the fact that you are unprepared. And being unprepared means your car has absolutely no way for you to drive over any sized slopes, no matter how many times you try.

You only realize any further attempt of going over the slope or taking any other route is fruitless when your tires spin in place after digging themselves well enough into the road. And you slump against your steering wheel like an exasperated character in a movie – pounding your head against 12 o’clock a few times for good measure. So much for a fifteen-minute-saving de-tour through a small town you have never seen before. And so much for you trying to drive over a slope you could easily walk over. Trying sucks.

Still, the only thing that keeps you from abandoning your hand-me-down car to trek forty-five minutes to the campsite is the fact that it is freezing outside, and your cellphone Wi-Fi gets especially spotty when you are in areas of high altitudes. With one final sigh, you push yourself away from your steering wheel to sit upright, leaning the back of your head against your headrest. There is not much to do except to put your car in neutral and try to push your car out of the little hole it dug itself in.

The thing is, the texture of real snow is a lot different from the snow that giant portable snow machines shoot out of their gigantic cylindrical nozzles to cover the courtyard in front of the city hall whenever the local city has its annual winter festival. Real snow is also incomparable to the “snow” a child creates along the perimeter of an ice skating rink, hands holding onto the rails for support while they repeatedly scrape the inside of one of their blades towards the inside of their other shoe, creating soft ribbons of shaved ice before the navy blue Zamboni can create a clean slate before private lessons start.

Real snow is relentless toward anybody who does not come prepared to interact with it. So, no matter how much you try to dig and twist your sneaker sole into the snow, that tactile grip that you wish to create that supports your feet while you are pushing against the back of your car can seldom be created. You slump against your car’s bumper in defeat. The Sun still shining on your skin, a little bit stronger now, leaves you with the same warmth you felt against your skin, a bit tingly and upsetting, when you knew your skin would still burn no matter how nice the cordiality of the Sun felt on that one Spring day in the past.

Plus, there is a little more time to observe your surroundings when you have given up completely.

In the grassy median strip that denotes the entrance into the small town is a wooden welcome sign with the name in loopy golden lettering against a beautiful pine green: “Welcome to Interlude.” A few feet ahead of you, the mountainous road marries smooth concrete, and the sidewalks pave in a festival town-esque brick lining. And you conclude you must be on the outskirts of the town. Leftover snow fills the grooves between each brick and covers the dark-colored awnings in front of each shop along the town strip. Where flashy LED shop signs and brightly colored bulbs decorate sidewalk trees drawing visitors in from around the world, is surprisingly a lack of people. And you frown while thinking about how you would be able to push your car to the side of the road if another vehicle wants to enter the town.

Not a few moments later, a navy blue truck slowly climbs up the road, and you feel the littlest bit of hope surge into your body. Forcing yourself to stand up, you move out of the way and wave at the incoming car. But as your day could not have gotten any more unfortunate, your car starts rolling backwards towards the pickup truck. And you cannot help but see your entire life flash in front of you – a person dressed too lightly for the snow and the used car passing by like a celebrity on a parade float, all in a moment.

What is scarier than the fact that your car is now bumper-less and the pickup truck remains unscathed is the man who hops out of his truck. Looking like a snow-stage boss from a video game, the man who is large and menacingly looking enough to make his shiny dark green car look like a minivan next to him stalks over to you with his finger pointed directly at your face. The only thing missing from the scene is the army of ice ogres that are supposed to follow closely behind him.

However, the only thing you can register is the fact that he is yelling at you – face glowing bright red and spit flying out of his mouth. Your body is frozen in fear. There is a lack of capacity for you to be able to stand up for yourself while you are shocked and unable to recognize your surroundings while terrible words spill out of the man's mouth. And you cannot do anything except take in his expletives while teardrops well up, ready to spill out of your tear ducts.

But they do not. A figure puts himself between the man and you, and your view is too obstructed to see the other side.

“I called the insurance company. Give me your information and I’ll handle it,” the mysterious person says.

“And who are you?” You hear from the other side.

“I’m their husband.” He fishes for his wallet in his back pocket and takes out a business card, handing it to the man between two fingers. “Call me. Email me. Your choice. I’ll get it sorted. Sorry about the whole thing, I didn’t have time to drive my partner. Bad husband right?... So, I heard you’re the new fishing shop owner? I’ll drop by sometime.” He tries to switch subjects to lessen the tension while slipping his wallet back into his pocket.

The thing is, it works. The presence of the man who uses his body to shield you calms the angry pickup truck driver almost exponentially. And the man who yelled at you seemed to forget he was yelling at you just because he realized your marital status. The man calms down, and even falters in his speech.

“Ahh…I’m not a fishing shop owner. I guess it’s fine now that you’re here, but you know men. There aren’t bad husbands, only ba-”

“I’ll be at Town Hall if you need more information from me.” The man who calls himself your husband purposely and curtly cuts the other man off, knowing very well that he would be even more upset if he heard the man finish his sentence.

The man does not turn back to address you until he is done taking photos of both cars and waving the other man goodbye. And your piece of junk car stays in the same spot, bumper-less and bruised, while the pickup truck, clearly without any injury, smoothly makes its way into Interlude, disappearing from your sight.

“You’re just going to dumbly let that man say those things to you? About you? Do you have no respect for yourself?” He lectures you, his deep voice muffled by the black wool scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth.

You see him clearly this time, how his black locks fall in front of his face in neat curtain bangs, set in a defined “C” shape. The oversized fleece-lined collar jacket falls to the middle of his thighs, leaving little room for his cream-colored sweater to peep into view. And his stance, focusing his weight on his right heel while his left foot slightly protrudes forward, allows him to tap his foot against the snow while he waits for you to answer him.

But what is shocking to you is not the code-switching he uses when speaking to the driver versus when speaking to you. What is shocking, you realize, are the thin silver-framed glasses that sit on the bridge of the man’s nose and the familiar deep woody scent that clings onto him, touched with a hint of peach.

It couldn’t be.

A cold chill leaves your tongue dry and squeezes your stomach.

“Are you dumb? Did you not hear about the snowstorm coming?” He asks you, a voice without concern, all while pulling out his phone from one of his pockets.

He tugs his manicured thumbs out of his gloves to wake his phone and proceeds to reveal his face from under his scarf to unlock his phone. After a few loud keyboard taps, you hear your phone’s notification sound from your car. But all you can do is stare back at the man, stomach gurgling and queasy.

“Yn,” your co-worker sighs, clearly annoyed by your lack of response. “Why are you here?”

two

A backpack-wearing piglet who happily crosses the street. A fashionably dressed lumpy toad who rows across the pond in a wooden paddle boat. A shrew who picnics with a chipmunk in a grassy city park. Tiny children who sit between each of a stegosaurus’s scutes. An angry and scruffy-looking Siamese cat who wears a cone too big for it to see. The backside of each illustration states:

Jeon Wonwoo ILLUSTRATOR Same Dream Publishing House Work Email | Work Number | Personal Website

Nicely squared recycled textured card stock printed with soy ink, Jeon Wonwoo’s business cards can very well double as collector cards. And the owner of these cards himself, in your eyes, is the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. No fantasy writer, no Renaissance artist could ever truly depict how you see this man. Yet it makes you feel terrible, so entirely rotten on the inside, knowing that he would rather crawl up several flights of stairs made of tiny plastic building blocks than take a fifteen-second elevator ride with you.

If you could pinpoint the exact day Jeon Wonwoo started hating you, it would be the Monday after coming back from a previous work trip to the vacation home of a poet the two of you were assigned. The two of you were amicable with each other, even more so – close friends. A power couple in the children’s books and short stories field – a force to be reckoned with. And the hotel rooms adjacent to each other where the two of you decided to sit on opposite sides of your shared door and talk to each other with both your backs against the door. You remember the sound of his hair brushing against the wood and his soft chuckle when you accidentally bump your head against the door. The goodbye after the trip lingered for a little too long while the first hello back never came. And you can only watch from the back of the crowd during meet and greets and panels, sometimes only catching the tip of his tiny flyaway from far away.

It would hurt your feelings a lot less if he turned away whenever you walked near him, but he chooses to frown instead. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make you like him any less. But you do not know what you are holding onto (or if there is anything to hold onto at this point).

Even now, there is a blatant emotional and physical distance between the two of you. He briskly walks at least a meter in front of you, never turning his head back to see if he left you behind or if you were following closely behind.

The thick uncomfortable shoulder strap keeps slipping from your shoulder, unable to find any traction against the smooth nylon of the puffer you put on earlier. And it is just a walk, a measly ten-minute walk to the police station where you can report the accident, but it is hard to walk while looking ahead when you are so close to crying. No matter how much you try to adjust your shoulder strap so it doesn’t stop falling, it finds a way to slip from your sore shoulder or frozen grip. Overwhelming emotions usurp any will to continue onwards and leave you feeling so annoyed, so dejected, and so frustrated with everything that happened today. And when your bag’s strap slips again, you let it slip from your shoulder, sending your entire duffle bag crumpling against the wet and icy brick pavement.

And so you crumple with it, sinking to your knees and wallowing in your unhappiness.

The winter boots that clop in front of you never stop. Jeon Wonwoo would never stop for you, never walk backwards to pick up your heavy duffle and offer you a hand. So it wracks your head trying to understand why he would help you out in the first place, leaving you in the snow once everything was settled, and threatening an IOU coupon for the future. Why he would be in this town in the first place.

The shop window lights of the tiny electronics store to the side of you flicker on. On display and pressed flat against the glass are a bunch of old television sets stacked on top of each other, creating a large screen if not separated by the thick plastic television frames. Golden tempera paint in a modern Serif font exhibits the store’s logo across the glass: “Stay For A While,” in a wide downward pointing arc.

Every single television screen livestreams the local news. According to the subtitles, a giant snowstorm is about to hit the local area. Residents are advised to seek shelter and stay home. The sunny weather is only a farce.

But you don’t notice the news. To you, the only thing in front of you is a lachrymose shadow of a blob trapped in a foreign town with nowhere to go. And your heart follows closely behind the man as if dragged by him on a leash – blindly bouncing, cobbling, and getting scratched by the various pebbles and dirt on the pavement.

The man never looks behind to check on the organ. He doesn’t even know it’s there.

“What do you mean you’re cat sitting? Jeonghan, you never volunteer to do things willingly…Oh, for the friends who are high school teachers? Then road trip with their cat and save your cousin who is stranded in the mountains.” You adjust your grip on your phone while mindlessly browsing through the several knickknacks for sale in the souvenir shop in the town’s only lodge.

Passing the wall of graphic tees and sweaters and passing through a shelf of souvenir mugs, you stop at a shelf of tiny woodcarvings. Your eye lands on a figurine of a whittled cat, hand-painted orange with a white belly. On the other end of your phone call, your cousin complains about the weather, but you don’t listen – clearly too entranced by the tiny cat.

“Of course I listened to the radio this morning,” you mutter while running the tip of your pointer finger against the cat’s ear, feeling the smooth sanded wood under your touch. “Okay, you got me. It was for background noise. Look, I’m not asking you to pick me up today. I somehow ended up booking a room after finding out cab services are down today. But if you’re not going to pick me up then I’m going to hang up and solve this myself. But if you don’t hear from me in three days, then call a search party. Okay?”

Except he hangs up before you can say goodbye, grumbling about how you never listen to him. Still, you’re unbothered by his action. The tiny cat, now in the palm of your hand, looks so content with life, unbothered by what goes on around it. Your mind wonders about its artist, how long they must have spent carving the cat from a single block of wood, the hours it must have taken to create something so tiny yet so fulfilling to own. And you wonder about the artist’s emotions, if they ever felt sadness after parting with their cat. If the cat was the artist’s friend, even for the brief moment, that juncture, in their individual timelines.

It would be best if you left the cat on the shelf, you think. Just in case the artist ever changes their mind about selling the cat. And the cat looks happier sitting on the shelf with its other animal friends, happier than what its painted lazy smile suggests.

And for the first time today, you feel a tiny bit of happiness – a halcyon moment surrounded by forest-themed trinkets and flashing keychains with generic names and soft 2010s pop music playing from the store speakers. That is until you see a familiar figure being escorted to the lobby of the lodge. Curiosity causes you to leave your spot in the souvenir store, edging closer to the creation of a new scene.

“I have a room.” You hear him try to reason with the security guard. “It’s not called loitering if I am a guest.”

You can’t hear the security guard, but it seems like Wonwoo’s bluntness is not a strong enough source of logos for the guard. And the guard stands in front of the illustrator, fully unconvinced that the man wearing a suit and holding his work briefcase would be any other out-of-town guest. And one look of pure panic on Jeon Wonwoo’s stupidly handsome-looking face sends you on autopilot, making your way to his side for no good reason.

“Babe.” You lie through your forced smile while looping your arm around his right arm. “Where were you?”

His arm jerks in the tiniest bit before it relaxes as if he hesitated for a moment before making his decision. Of course, another explanation could simply be because he experienced a negative bodily reaction to your mere presence. Flabbergasted, he would mutter. The nadir of today’s excitement. And you would hate him even more for using vocabulary without incorporating any malapropisms. He is as pretentious as the outfit he wears.

“Baby,” he grits through his teeth. “This gentleman seems to think I’m stalking the halls like some animal out to hunt its prey.”

“Sorry, Sir.” You pout at the security guard, hoping your natural pathos could appeal to the man. “My husband has a tendency to walk around whenever he’s bored. It’s been a while since we went on vacation, and he clearly has too many thoughts in his head. You see his outfit? It’s a bad habit.”

The security guard strokes his chin and nods, eying Wonwoo’s ineffable outfit. He wonders why the man in front of him would pack a business suit for a vacation in the mountains, but he doesn’t want to be the one too quick to judge. Rather, he agrees with the fact that the suit actually fits the man very well. If the man wasn’t stalking the hallways just a few moments ago, he would’ve asked him about which tailor he sees. “If he’s so bored, why don’t the two of you join couples night tonight? Winners get a free bedroom upgrade. And between you and me, I heard there’s a famous author who’s staying with us,” he whispers the last portion, a quick cheeky wink.

You don’t realize that you are still grabbing onto his arm until you dragged him into your room. And he shrugs you off, taking the extra step to smooth out his suit fabric while looking through your vanity mirror before turning to you.

“You have the grip of a snapping turtle,” he scoffs while looking around your room.

It is a standard room with a single queen-sized bed at the center of the room. If it were not for the carpeted floors, the entire room would look like a wooden box from its Western Red Cedar planks that make up the four walls to the wooden paneling that covers the ceiling, giant circular wooden beams that keep the ceiling steady by design. The rooms in this lodge are a termite’s dream feast and an art deco enthusiast’s nightmare. Even the bedframe is made of logs, cylindrical in every piece, and the bedsheets are of deep burgundy red bordered with silhouettes of black bears as if it came straight from the video game your cousin was so obsessed with a few Summers ago.

What catches his eye is not the fact that your duffle bag is thrown across your bed, nor the fact that the lamps in your rooms may as well be oil lamps. Rather, he stares at the door to the right of your mounted television, the divider between your room and your neighbor’s. And you can’t help but wonder what is going on in that head of his.

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“How long did it take for you to think of that comeback?” His attention is drawn away from the door and aimed toward you. “Just because I compared you to a turtle didn’t mean you had to act like one.”

Your jaw drops and becomes your turn to scoff at him, loudly. You cannot believe what you are hearing, and your breathing becomes shallower as you glare at him. “Are you kidding me? Me helping you literally saved you from being pathetically kicked out by the security guard. You should be happy I didn’t record it and post it online.”

“Like you would have enough followers for it to go viral,” he sneers while taking a step toward you. “And I never asked you for help.”

“Loitering in the hallways? Wearing a business suit when you’re supposed to be at the retreat?” Now there is almost no space between the two of you. And you reach over to his chest, grabbing the plastic nametag that dangles from his neck, and holding it up to his face. The item feels as cold as the person who wears it. “Wearing your work badge? Fine, I’ll admit I have no idea why you’re here. But if you thought that walking around and waiting for some author to come out of their room and have some preplanned accidental meet cute could work, then you’re so wrong. And I’m not going to let you defame our company just because you have no social skills whatsoever.” You let go of the item you’re holding, letting it drop against his chest.

“Okay, I’ll be the bigger man and admit that I was waiting for the author my team wants to work with to show up. But talking about defaming the company? You want me to care about what you say when all of that was coming from someone who would rather let some random man verbally degrade their worth than to stand up for themselves? You’re all bite and no tongue. Just like a snapping turtle,” he says, his face entirely without emotion.

“SNAPPING TURTLES HAVE TONGUES. DUMBASS,” you snap at him.

“That’s exactly what a snapping turtle would say,” he challenges you.

The thing is, Jeon Wonwoo likes to keep things short even though he is not as quick-tempered as you are. He prefers to relay everything he wants to say at once, saving anybody from asking for clarification. Yet, you can feel that Wonwoo only seeks to maim you with his words. Even at your most imperturbable composure with your intern, you cannot stand being alone in a room with Wonwoo once he starts opening his mouth to speak. And stupidly and repeatedly you let his elementary quips affect you like rubbing salt on an open wound. The laceration in your heart.

“You’re so rude Jeon Wonwoo. No wonder I hate you more and more every single day. You’re the single-most worst person in the entire world, and I hate how I once considered us friends.”

He looks like he has something to say to you but mentally drops the notion. Instead, he sighs and makes his way to the door beside your television, unlocking the knob and opening the door. He doesn’t make some offhanded comment about being your neighbor and only quietly closes the door behind him, making sure it’s locked with a tiny click.

three

It is a tiny office breakroom, the kind with a beige refrigerator whose motor is a little too loud, a low-watt microwave, and light green walls decorated with random pen marks from the lodge workers signing up for holiday potlucks. The late afternoon sunlight shines in an ethereal orange glow through the window, casting what could be the day’s last warm ray across the round wooden table in the middle of the room. Central heating runs throughout the building, and the lodge manager sits in the hot seat, his hands folded in front of him while he stares at you and your “husband.”

“Darling?” A nice elderly receptionist on break holds up a bag of mini marshmallows, the tri-colored kinds you can only find in baking stores, and points to it with her manicured finger. “Marshmallow?” she asks you from her place near the kitchen cabinets.

“No thank you,” you reply, your hands wrapped around a warm disposable cup filled with generic brand instant hot chocolate. Gratis, courtesy of the elderly receptionist before the manager arrived to talk to the two of you.

You bring the sugary drink to your lips, blowing softly and watching the steam disappear into the air. The drink itself, velvet chocolate that coats your tongue, is a warm invitation to this little town in the middle of nowhere. However, you cannot help but feel the only thing – or person – that unwelcomes you is the man who tries to angle his body away from you and the manager if the two of you ever cause trouble for your neighbors. Again.

“Look, we’re not going to kick you out. It would be inhumane to kick someone out during a snowstorm. And also we’re all kinda snowed in…actually, we’re super snowed in so nobody is coming in or out at this point. Funny how it was sunny earlier, right? Anyway, word has it that the two of you are married. So why don’t you two take some time to work things out, yeah? I’m no relationship counselor, but this is a small lodge in a small town so word gets out fast. So, seeing how far the two of you are sitting apart from each other, maybe channel that pent up anger into some competitive spirit during couple’s night because we can’t have you two being loud and arguing elsewhere. And I hate to be the bad guy here, but no more calls from your neighbors complaining about the two of you arguing or else we will contact authorities. Alright? Just keep it down and work it out, would ya?”

The manager’s lengthy spiel is immediately followed by silence, although not awkward, but one that provokes thought. And when you sense Wonwoo, being the smartass he is, open his mouth to counter his marriage status, and you immediately kick him in the shin with the heel of your tennis shoe. And he folds like his latest pop-up book, glaring at you while trying not to wheeze in pain. A fake smile and a solemn pledge to not bother the other patrons for the rest of the night are enough for the two of you to be excused from the conversation with the manager.

But not from each other.

How you ended up blindfolded and dizzy with a bat in your hands while Wonwoo angrily yells at you from the sidelines is beyond you. For the time being is what the two of you agreed with, albeit this one is far from Ruth Ozeki’s version. It’s a small promise to try to prove the two of you are more than amicable: attend a few games and activities together with the other couples, attempt to act like a married couple, and dip after an hour.

After twelve elephant spins with your forehead against the baseball bat, you and the other blindfolded contestants try to cross to the other side of the banquet hall in order to smash one of the many squashes on the large blue-colored plastic tarp laid across the floor. And Wonwoo, along with the other separated pairs, barks into the open air in the direction he wants you to move.

The funny thing is, you would expect to hear him call your actual name out of all of the pet names being thrown around, but Wonwoo cannot yell for the life of him, so much to shout your name in public. So even though you hear a bunch of people getting confused with the various forms of “honey” and “baby” being called out, you struggle to find his voice amidst the cacophony of shouts. Once the physical dizziness from spinning around evaporated, you feel a new kind of dizziness from being agitated as an aftereffect of trying to find Wonwoo’s voice in the middle of the crowd. By the time you decide on giving up, the shrill sound of a whistle signaling the end of the game fills the air. Shrugging the blindfold off your face, you look around to see the aftermath. While the other pairs are on the other side of the room surrounded by broken pieces of squash, there is only one man standing in front of you alone and separated from the others.

Your breathing hitches when you realize he’s walking towards you – long, even strides like the romantic lead in a movie. By the time he places himself in front of you, your baseball bat is in his hand while your cheek is in his other.

“It was hard, wasn’t it?” he whispers while looking into your eye.

Except you can’t help but train your eyes elsewhere, unable to look him in his eyes while it feels like your heart is beating erratically. And even though you know very well how he is faking everything, you can’t help but regress to the same you, the same you who is so helplessly in love with the man you hate. The same you who spends every day wondering how did the two of you end up that way.

“You only took the bat from me because you’re scared I might whack you with it. And not going to lie, I was contemplating it,” you mumble.

“It’s okay babe.” He tries to cheer you up, a slight undertone of insincerity in his voice. He continues to ignore your statement. “You did your best. Snapping turtles are slow, but they still manage to survive.”

Ignoring the fact that Wonwoo’s hand is warm because he has warm packs in each of his loungewear jacket pockets (and the fact that he refused to share one with you), someone catches your eye in the distance. Where workers are cleaning up the aftermath of the squash game, a familiar-looking man stands to the side where some lodge patrons flock around him with rectangular objects in their hands. Once you see him turn his head your way, your entire body freezes – Wonwoo’s touch suddenly begins to feel cold against your skin. And Wonwoo, who was expecting you to get mad at him for calling you a turtle, can’t help but notice your state of panic. And he not so subtly turns around to see who could be causing you so much fear.

“Oh my,” he mutters, coming to his realization.

“I can’t believe –” you begin before Wonwoo interrupts your train of thought.

“I hope he rots in hell before he can get his next book deal,” he almost spits at the man from several feet away. He drops his hand from your cheek and takes a tiny step back before taking a deep breath as if he is about to ask you something that he would regret, “Do you mind staying a little longer? I want to make sure chauvinists never win book upgrades.”

“Room upgrade,” you correct him while glaring at the other man from afar.

“What?”

“You misspoke.” You guide your attention back to the man who is, for what you think is the first time, looking at you attentively and without malice. And the fact that he is looking at you amicably makes your brain go haywire, but you subdue your thoughts and continue the conversation. “It’s the ‘room’ upgrade that we’re trying to stop him from winning.”

“Book upgrade or room upgrade, it’s the same thing.” He frowns while tapping the end of the bat against the ground. “It turns out your pickup truck man is the author my team is after. But I’d rather be jobless than to work with someone like him.”

So he works with you, absolutely demolishing the competition during the Dinner and Paint section and loudly cheering for you while you stacked plastic cups. And the way he smiles at you, lovingly and with the glimmer reflected from the ceiling lights contrasted against the cocky attitude he surrounds himself with when one of you wins a game – it almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to hate him. How easily he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against his embrace so much that his cologne lingers on your clothes, leaves you feeling hopeless. Because the only time Jeon Wonwoo could ever approach you without visibly withering in repulsion is when he acts like he is in love with you.

Outside the cozy lodge, the Sun sets its rays on the heavy layers of snow. While the Earth turns to face the other way, the rays wash the pillowy white crystals in a warm and deep burgundy orange – a warm embrace, a promise to return, before parting for the night. As you clean Wonwoo’s smudged glasses with the hem of your shirt, he sneaks his right arm around your waist while he leans further into his seat as the Couple’s Night host announces the next game. You feel something warm enter the pocket of your jacket and look down to see Wonwoo’s hand back on your waist. The untouched hand warmer gradually feels hotter in your pocket when you gently place your fake husband’s glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He whispers a small “thank you,” and you can only smile back at him with a heaviness in your heart that only you can carry.

The hand warmer feels like it would burn through your clothes at any second.

four

“Team Snowball, what did your partner answer for the question: ‘What is your partner picky about eating?’” The emcee points at the woman sitting next to you who gladly flips her sketchbook around for the other half of the room to see. She squints her eyes, trying to read the woman’s squiggly writing, and smiles when she realizes it’s a match. “Soft grapes? It’s a match. Point to Team Snowball.”

Despite everything going around you, you can’t help but fidget in your seat, the sketchbook’s pages starting to feel damp in your sweaty palms. Wonwoo sits with the separated pairs across from you. He crosses his legs, and his sketchbook lays comfortably across his lap so he can twirl his black marker in his hand. Even when you know you wrote the correct answer to Wonwoo’s food preferences, the two of you are still several points behind the other teams. Your stomach cannot help but feel queasy every time you embarrassingly flip your sketchbook for others to see. Because every single wrong answer about your “husband” whom you love very much feels like a punch in your gut every time you hear snickers from the others around you.

Seafood is your answer; you’re the last to answer this round’s question. You earn a small cheer from the woman reading your answer and a small smile from Wonwoo. He sneaks you a tiny thumbs up, the tip of his thumb poking out of his sweater.

“Next question,” dictates the emcee. “When did you know they were the one?”

It’s an abstract question – one that doesn’t necessarily need matching answers from both sides. Still, you look across to look at Wonwoo, uncertain whether or not he would put much thought into an answer he would have to pull out of thin air. Uncapping his marker with his mouth, he pulls the sketchbook closer to him to scribble down whatever comes to his mind. The action leaves your mouth feeling dry: one, obviously, because he uncapped the marker with his mouth; and two, he was the first to start writing.

Some answers are simple. Some answers are meaningful. Some answers are like yours – “love at first sight.”

Corny, overused, and unusual, your answer is the safest route you knew you could take. And despite how clichéd your answer is – its timelessness, its Hallmark-ability – still garners a series of awws from everybody around you. Technically, there is some truth to your answer. You developed a tiny crush the first time you saw him at the office. Who wouldn’t? He surrounds himself with illustrations of anthropomorphic animals and has a laugh that bellows and fills any room with joy. He made your days brighter by simply existing.

Now, the brightness struggles to navigate its way through the thick fog. And you’re left alone in the cold, the fog’s misty droplets clinging onto your skin.

It’s weird how in this life, time moves linearly, but moments and experiences with others exist in intervals – interludes that we can relive over and over again through memories. Sometimes we experience interludes of happiness, interludes of pain, and interludes where it only seems like there are only two people in this world. But nobody can determine how long these interludes can last and for how long you can try to hold on to these moments before letting go.

“Let’s see if Team Turtle can earn a point. Please show us your answer.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed,” he softly chuckles, voice more sonorous than ever, while standing his sketchbook on his knee.

9 pm is his answer. You, and the rest of the people sitting beside you, cannot help but gaze at his answer in confusion.

It is only when he sees you staring at him he finally clarifies, “When we were sitting in my car eating donuts while the waves crash on the shores in front of us. You smiled at me with pieces of maple donut glaze stuck to your upper lip.”

You. He speaks in the second person and looks directly at you with a soft gaze. It couldn’t be, you think. But it is true, you recognize his diction as true. He’s speaking to you.

And you remember that shared moment in the front seats of his car, the night of the work trip. The donuts were for the poet, but the two of you had the door slammed in your faces before being able to hold a full conversation with the poet. And after an entire day of confusion and apologies, the two of you were finally able to fulfill your portions for the work trip. Who knew that the tiny suggestion of walking along the pier after dinner would turn out disastrous – frigid ocean winds strong enough to blow people away? The clothes the two of you packed were not meant to sustain harsh winds but harsh sunlight – after all, the work trip’s destination is a beach town. So the two of you sat in his car, eating donuts, people-watching, and sharing anecdotes to get to know each other better. It was the type of conversation that you would do anything to prolong its duration, the type of conversation with the right type of person.

“You were so happy,” he finishes.

You were so happy, it echoes in your head.

Are you happy now?

“How about you?” The emcee turns to you for clarification. “Your partner gave us such a beautiful explanation. So, you have to explain your ‘love at first sight.’ Tell us about it.”

“Ohh,” Wonwoo begins awkwardly while giving an equally awkward chuckle. “You don’t have to if you do-”

“I was having a really bad morning.” You smile into your lap and look up at your supposed husband. You don’t know why or how the full day with unease bubbling inside of you dispersed so quickly after Wonwoo’s particular answer. But you launch into your story, letting the words flow out of your mouth like melted snow on a grassy hill under the bright Sun. “A really bad morning. I ended up working overtime and accidentally missed my morning alarm. I had to chase the bus while my hot coffee poured out of its opening and onto my skin. My entire day at the office was a mess because I kept messing up. I felt awful and exhausted. So I worked overtime for the second day in a row to clean up my errors. Someone places hot green tea in front of me, the free ones at the office. There is a doodle of a stingray with the dumbest-looking smile on its face. It looked so pathetic that it made me feel a little better about myself. He says that he accidentally boiled too much hot water and thought to make a cup for me. And then he holds his own up in front of his face. There’s a picture of a cat wearing glasses. ‘You can do it,’ he tells me in a squeaky voice. And he leaves. We don’t meet again for about a month, but his kind gesture pieced me back together. And I held onto his kindness for days.”

He stares at you, a few strands of his hair out of place and in front of his eyes. He doesn’t care to move them back in place. There’s that smile on his face, the exact one you imagined to be on his face that time he sat on the other side of your shared door. Soft coral lips relaxed, but the cupid’s bow is slightly perked as the corners of the lips turn upward. He tries to hide the fact that he is smiling, keeping his happiness hidden and only to himself.

So you smile at him. An honest, genuine smile where the cheeks kiss the lower lashes. And his lips stretch thinly so that his brilliant white teeth shyly make their way into the open. He smiles back at you.

Musicians know that an interlude, in music, is an interrupting or intervening passage that connects different parts of a song. An interlude can also be a song in an album. In other words, there are different ways for musical interludes as well as temporal interludes to exist. Now, there is a new interlude in your timeline, this shared moment where two timelines from two completely different lives collide and converge. Anybody can tell that this shared moment is filled with happiness and understanding…perhaps, even longing.

But what do you call it when these two timelines have converged in the past? If two timelines that once converged reconverge at a further point on the timeline, did that initial interlude ever truly end? Are interludes simply short periods in our lives if these interludes stay in our timelines forever, even when the moments they denote end?

Nevertheless, at this moment, you know you’re happy. And you can only hope the man who sits across from you, the one who looks at you with a reminiscent expression you once experienced so long ago, is feeling the same way.

“Okay. We’re in third place. If we win this one, then we’ll be a point ahead of them.”

“I tied it pretty tightly. Is the tightness okay with you?” Wonwoo frowns from below you, seemingly exploring a different problem at hand. He inspects the rope he tied around your leg, poking and prodding at different sections. “It’s a three-legged race, but I don’t want you getting hurt from an accidental rope burn because I tied it too tightly.”

“Wonwoo, it’s fine.” You pat his left shoulder, letting him know he doesn’t have to worry.

He grabs your stretched hand, and you help hoist him upwards. But there is an apparent frown on his face.

“Why do you still call me Wonwoo,” he mumbles while wrapping your arm around his back and on his waist. There is a tiny pout on his face pointed downwards as he naturally loops his arm around your shoulders like he had done it a thousand times. “Are you not comfortable with calling me ‘babe?’ Any other name also works.”

Deep down, or not even deep down, you know he is right. You are uncomfortable with the idea of casually calling him by these pet names over and over again. Calling him by fake pet names, not counting the many idealistic scenarios that once played in your head, in this case, feels very wrong. His sudden change in attitude towards you as well as his overall demeanor after the last game left you in shock. A plot twist in a season finale would be less shocking than what you feel at this very moment. Like every other hypothetical person in your situation, you choose to ignore your problems by focusing on your other problems at hand. Because you know very well, allowing yourself to fully play into this fake husband rouse, even in times when you’re truly happy, would only hurt you in the end. And you’ve been hurt by him before, not really sure if you ever fully healed.

But you can’t deny he looks and seems nothing like the literal he-devil he was this morning. In fact, he seems to be the opposite. Even without being physically tied to you, he trails behind you like a lost puppy and clings onto your sleeve like a cat who kneads dough on your arm, nails hooked onto the fabric of your clothing. And you let him hold you close to him so much that he leans his chin on your shoulder while listening to others talk. And you let his hair tickle your scalp and would let him melt into you if he asked.

Getting hurt by the same man twice does not make a right. Succinctly, it only makes you dumb. So, to protect yourself, you use the image of the screaming man from the morning to remind yourself that everything is a rouse no matter how much you enjoy each moment with the illustrator.

The three-legged race’s course starts in the banquet hall, passes through the hallway and into the lobby, takes several twists and turns throughout the sitting area, and finishes in the banquet hall. Wonwoo takes the lead, firmly holding you against him while he chants “in, out, in, out” to direct how the two of you should speed-walk. But the excitement of the games and the promise of the upgraded room must have gone over the heads of several of the teams, causing each team to speed walk into a sprint once they left the banquet hall.

Wonwoo and you are also victims of wanting to win, or at least of wanting to beat the author. But in this incredibly small lodge, there are only so many paces you can take before having to try to squeeze past another team. And Wonwoo practically hoists you onto his foot without notice, penguin-walking you to make it past another team to navigate through the sectioned seating area.

Startled by his sudden lack of communication, you demand he set you down. “Let me go,” you grunt after being jostled against one of the round wooden tables. You are absolutely sure your hip would bruise in the morning if he bumped you into one more object. “It’d be easier if one of us walks ahead of the other.”

Does it look like I care?” His ego slips from his tongue, completely coating the sweet words that came out of his mouth before the game started. His sudden change in tone catches you by surprise. “I’ll buy a sled from the gift shop if it means I get to drag you instead of hauling you around.”

“It’s just a game.” You try to push yourself off of him, annoyed that he’s suddenly being uncooperative with you. In the meantime, the team behind the two of you catches up and pulls ahead. “Let me go before one of us gets hurt.”

Wonwoo’s eyes aren’t trained on you. Instead, he stretches his head to look at the few teams in front of the two of you. Surprisingly, the two of you make it out of the seating area without any trouble. Before the two of you can make a sprint back toward the banquet hall, you pull yourself away from Wonwoo, yanking his arm off of your shoulder.

“Babe, come on.” He holds out his hand for you to grab onto. “We’re going to end up being last.”

But your hand never reaches out to meet his.

“Babe? Are you serious? Are you kidding me? Are you really calling me ‘babe’ right now?” You almost shriek at him if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you are standing in proximity to the reception desk. But you are exasperated, your voice wobbles as you voice what is bothering you. “I’ve had it with you, Wonwoo. I tried communicating with you. I tried voicing my fears. But your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t even think about the safety of the person right beside you. Am I sad and mad about what happened this morning? Yeah, I still am. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, but nobody deserves to be ignored. I don’t care about winning anymore. I feel humiliated, utterly and devastatingly humiliated by you and by myself. To think I let myself have fun around you. To think I believed for a second that you truly did care about me. At one point, I thought we were friends. At one point, I really did like you for who you were. But I guess I can’t expect people to stay the same, can I?” More words and sentences pour out of your mouth – like a small tornado that grows larger in size after picking up all of the things you left unsaid, the words that threatened to slip from your tongue all picked up and twirled into the tornado, you ended up saying more than what you meant to say.

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” he begins, but he can only hopelessly stare at you squatting in place to untie the rope that binds the two of you.

“There.” You bitterly drop the rope in his free hand. “You’re free from me now. You can go back to hating me all you want.”

“But I don’t hate you.”

“I’m done, Wonwoo. I’m done with being confused so I’m just going to give up and wallow in my room until Jeonghan picks me up once the snow clears.”

five

“No offense, but I would never spend that much time or energy on a guy…especially a guy who treats you like that. He even stopped pounding on your front door so that obviously means that he’s the type to stop trying after a while,” your cousin rants from the other side of your phone screen. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose while the cat he is looking after purrs contently on his lap. “So what are you? A masochist? You like men who treat you poorly and then reward you with like an hour of happiness? That’s literally like if professors gave you the hardest final you’ve ever taken in your life and told you to grab a free cookie after you turned in the final. What are you even holding onto at this point?”

“I don’t know,” you wail at the older man, crumpling your used tissue in the palm of your hand. It quickly joins the growing pile of snot-riddled balls of tissue at the edge of your bed. When you recline into your initial position, the shifted blanket knocks Wonwoo’s hand warmer onto the floor.

“Eww stop holding your phone so close to your face,” Jeonghan complains, “Vernon says I kinda look like you, and I can’t help imagining that’s how I look when I cry.”

“I don’t know why I still like him,” you mumble to your cousin. You honestly still don’t understand why you like him despite every single recent negative encounter with him. To be honest, your heart doesn’t flutter as it does with the characters in the novels you read. Nothing cliched happens when you see him, like how the world stops and he is the only one who walks in slow motion. Quite frankly, your days pass by whether you see him or not, but it doesn’t mean that the thought of him crosses your mind every once in a while.

“Maybe you just like the idea of him,” he offers with a sigh. There isn’t much that he could do for you in the middle of a snowstorm except to be on a video call with you and hope that the can solve whatever you have going on before his bedtime.

“I make up scenarios of him in my mind but I still prefer the real him,” you admit with a twinge of embarrassment. You can only sink deeper under your covers, pulling the cabin-themed sheets closer to your chest. Maybe you’re still holding onto the Wonwoo who existed during the work trip, and maybe, you think, he still exists somewhere.

“Hypothetically, do you maybe think that the reason why he’s so bad at everything is because he spends most of his time with children and draws instead of writing so his communication skill is basically hindered? Like how you’re good with feelings and ideas because that’s the bulk of the media you surround yourself with daily so you have more exposure to that area. So you have man-child versus person with skewed expectations on love and relationships. But then you literally have people like me…perfect in every aspect.”

“Shut up. You talk about traffic every morning but you can’t even name the model of your car. You were also tricked by a catfish.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m sorry,” you beg him. “Please don’t.”

“My point is.” He places his phone down on the sleeping cat to use as a temporary phone stand while he gathers his thoughts. “The two of you seem like total opposites. And the only time the two of you seem to work well together is when you meet in the middle. So, have you ever tried communicating with him? Ever pulled him to the side to ask him why he’s such an ass?”

Yoon Jeonghan’s simple solution to your problem causes your brain to briefly short-circuit. Silence fills your lonely cabin room as your mouth slightly hangs open while your cousin silently judges you from the other end of the phone. It took a simple suggestion to make you realize that you have been hanging onto Wonwoo’s personality change to even think to consider the idea of confronting him about it. And Jeonghan’s hypothesis may not be wrong at all – life isn’t a fictional novel where everything can be magically solved in the incoming chapters.

“No?” Your answer is meek. You don’t know what to feel after this revelation. Anger? Despair? Peacefulness?

“And is he still knocking on your door? Trying to talk to you?” His tone is gentle for once.

“Yeah?” You look to the right side of your room where the door stands between his room and yours. Slips of lodge notebook paper often found in the nightstand drawers slowly shove themselves through the tiny crack under the door. “I think he’s pushing slips of paper under our shared door.”

“Then go talk to him. But throw away your snot pile and fix your appearance before you do. Yeah?”

“What would I do without you?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. Bye.”

Sitting on the floor with your back leaned against the door, you shuffle the sheets of paper in your hands. There are a couple of sorry notes partnered with sad and apologetic-looking animal doodles. There are a few slips where he asks you to forgive him. Then there are these series of slips – a mini cartoon of his morning, this morning – that somehow cause a small upwards curl to form on your lips.

Blue ballpoint pen ink depicts a series of panels starting with a text he received this morning. This comic is void of cute tiny animals and can only be drawn with the sincerity of a children’s book illustrator. He draws himself staring at his phone screen in confusion – you’re missing, and the rest of the work group chat has no idea where you are. And he’s worried. Everybody is worried, but nobody is worried enough to send search parties for you. Blue-figured Wonwoo rushes out of his room, completely abandoning his presentation for the author, to rush to the entrance of Interlude. Because he knows that your team always passes through Interlude, but you’re known to arrive at the campsite while rubbing your eyes, hair frizzing from the static built from your head rubbing against the headrest while you were sleeping on the way there. But the scene he stumbles upon makes him angry despite how relieved he is to know that you are okay.

The few pages that you hold in your hand are smudged with blue ink, and the ending is unfinished. Wonwoo softly rasps his knuckles against the shared door, calling out your name. When you don’t reply, he sighs and sits down with his back against the door. You feel a tiny jolt with his added pressure against the door. Still, you can’t bring yourself to confront him. At least not yet.

“I’m childish and I let myself get caught up in moments. And you were right, if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself for hurting you. At one point, I really did forget that the reason why we agreed to work together was because we didn’t want him to win. I ended up wanting us to win, or at least for you to win so you could have the upgrade. I’m really sorry for not communicating well with you, and for how I acted.”

The sound of his hair leaving the door lets you know that he probably dropped his head toward his lap.

Taking a shallow breath, he mutters into his hands, “And I wasn’t lying when I talked about us at the beach. I really did like you then. I still like you.”

“Then why ignore me? Why act like you hate me? What did I do to deserve how you treated me?” The questions leave your mouth in a flare of anger.

“I started ignoring you because I was hiding from you. I couldn’t confront you because I knew I would make it obvious that I liked you. But I guess I hid from you for too long because you thought I hated you.” His voice muffled from being on the other side of the door.

“So all of this happened because of some big misunderstanding? Just because we couldn’t confront each other?”

So it really was a simple problem with a simple solution. The revelation feels like a sore punch in the gut, one that’s so surprising that all you can do is laugh.

“I’m sorry, Yn. I really am.”

“I’m also sorry.” You feel really guilty now that you know that you were wrong to believe that he hated you. “I should’ve confronted you about this earlier.”

“Does it still hurt?” His voice sounds clearer as if he shifted his body so he sits facing the door.

“Oh, from the race? Actually nothing happened.”

“From when you fell from heaven,” he finishes with his voice trailing in diminuendo, almost as if he is slightly embarrassed from using the overused pick-up line.

“It actually hurt a lot,” you joke. “But I’m glad it was you who found me in the middle of the road.”

“Then can I stay by your side? Not separated by doors, but by your side?”

So you push yourself away from the door, turning around to unlock the brassy knob. The door slowly swings open to Wonwoo, who is still sitting on the floor, now facing you. And you awkwardly sit in front of him, not really able to meet his eyes.

“I think I have a lot to learn.” He fiddles with the hem of his sweater. “I’ll start by being more communicative about my feelings,” he promises with a soft smile. “Because I really do like you.”

“I like you too.”

There is a magnetic pull that slowly draws the two of you closer together, a comforting sort of sensation that offers a moment of solace created from two extremes. The outside world is dark. The snowstorm has long gone. The surfaces where the sunlight once touched are replaced with the soft yellow glow of several lamps around both of your rooms. Kaleidoscopic remnants of shards of light scatter around every surface. But the two of you, seemingly in the very corners of your shared world exert a different type of glow - one that can only be created in a collision like the break of dawn after a devastating snowstorm.

“I really like you too,” you can’t help but reaffirm.

“It’s actually ‘I also like you.’” He can’t help but playfully correct you. “You’re the publisher. You shouldn’t be making these errors.” He teases.

“And you’re the illustrator, so shouldn’t you stay quiet so I can kiss you?”

one month later

At the base of a computer monitor, a tiny wooden whittled cat naps lazily next to its turtle counterpart. Two people sit side-by-side in the breakroom a few rooms away, the metal seats practically stuck to each other. While their lunches heat up in the microwave, the two happily discuss the upcoming young adult novel they are finally working on together. Under the table, their pinkies naturally interlock. The man who scrolls through art ideas on his tablet can’t help but let his eyes linger on his partner for a little too long while they scroll enthusiastically through the several concept art slides he created. When the microwave sounds, he quickly leaves a soft and brief kiss on the side of his partner’s temple before getting up to remove their heated lunches. And the partner smiles while turning back to look at him, a smile brighter than the soft sunlight that wraps the room in a warm afternoon glow.

There’s a new interlude in their timelines. In this interlude, the two opposites are taking it slow, learning to meet in the middle.

dedicated to ellie (@flowershu/@eliphant). just wanted to thank you for supporting wondernus for all these years. happy new year <33

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo au #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x yn #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios

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strawberrystepmom · 7 months

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pokemon trainer au! gojo x f!reader. reader is a fairy gym leader and satoru is league champion and a flying type trainer. a bit of world building! we discuss fairy gym leader and satoru's first meeting and their future plans a bit. wc 2.6k

part one, part two (you are here), part three

divider by @/cafekitsune!!!! 🩵

Unsurprisingly, the news of the current League Champion stepping down spreads like wildfire and you chuckle while spooning cereal into your mouth and leaning against the counter in your kitchen, Skitty eyeing you desperately from the floor below begging for a bite.

You scoff at her and point toward where her bowl lies a few feet away, full to the brim, and she rubs her tail against your calves while you lean over the counter and narrow your eyes at the TV, chomping on another perfectly soggy mouthful while watching clips of Satoru’s recently televised battles as Champion flash across the screen.

“Damn he’s good,” you mutter to yourself as if it’s a surprise. You know very well how good Satoru Gojo is, it’s why you’ve spent the last three years refusing his requests to battle. He has no reason to battle you other than bragging rights and you know his ego to already be overly inflated even if it is rightfully so and you’ve been satisfied with your decision until now.

You’ve spent two days trying to figure out why he asked you on this journey in the first place, stuffing your long forgotten camping gear and various repel sprays and medicinal sprays in the largest bag that you own while pondering every aspect of why. Why you?

Thinking back throughout the years, you remember every interaction you’ve had with the man fondly. Perhaps it’s the teensy crush you’ve always harbored for him painting the memories as sweet or maybe he is simply sweet beneath the brash and arrogant exterior. People are capable of being more than one thing at once, an important lesson you’ve learned in your life. You met him when you were still going to school and he was a member of the Elite Four, your shock seeing the way he and his Sneasel worked together against a schoolmate of yours was enough to catch his attention.

The two of you were the same age back then, fifteen, but on two clearly different paths - he was destined to become Champion and your own future felt undefined but free, something you’ve always craved.

He winked at you that day in response to your wide eyes and parted lips and you’ve never forgotten it. Not that he’d ever let you, the starstruck look is something he manages to sneak into almost every conversation the two of you have had since. Clearly it had an effect on him too and you’ve been quietly smug about it for a long time.

“And now we have a few words from the Champion himself. Mr. Gojo?”

You nearly choke on the mouthful of cereal you’re working on swallowing, holding your chest while Skitty chirps happily at your near imminent demise. You’ve always been certain she’d be the first to eat you if you were to die so you glance down, shaking your head, before gluing your gaze back to the man on the TV with a glistening grin as wide as the screen he’s upon. It’s a surprise to see him, you were certain he’d let his spokespeople do the heavy lifting, and it does nothing to answer the question on your mind of why he picked you.

He would be infuriating if you didn’t find him so charming. His hair flops over his eyes, big and blue and beautiful as ever, and he is wearing a suit which is something you don’t think he has ever truly done before. You know the PR around this must be a nightmare if they’re hauling him onto daytime television in a suit likely designed by the finest designer in Johto and sheer amusement makes your lips twist into a smile seeing him nod politely to each question he has been asked.

“Thank you for giving me the time to talk about my future plans,” he grins and you scoff, Espeon now joining you by hopping on the counter. You start to fuss at her but stop yourself as soon as Satoru begins speaking again, his head bowed humbly. Whatever he’s saying goes in one of your ears and out the other, your eyes trained on the way his pretty mouth moves instead of what he’s saying, and Espeon chirps at you. You toss her a glance and reach for the remote, turning up the volume to actually listen to the man on the screen.

“How can someone call themselves a Champion if they aren’t rising to every challenge they can?”

Nodding, you’re surprised that’s the public reason he’s giving. Perhaps he won’t mention the travels of the two of you at all and you are his mere escort, someone far more familiar with the routes criss crossing your home of Kanto and the other regions than he is, and if so, you’ll accept that although his pretty mouth looks a little less pretty when you remove the thought that he may have a thing for you as well from your mind.

“I need to challenge myself to be even better, to see this entire world, to experience every Pokemon I can and I’ve invited a friend along with me,” his words fade out when he says your name and mentions Camellia Town, the place you’ve called home for the last five years, and you watch the camera pan back to the surprised expressions of the show hosts. Despite their shock, he continues carelessly and your jaw drops as wide as it did the first day you ever met him.

“If you see us out there, don’t hesitate to stop and ask for a battle! My partner is capable of more than she lets on.”

Almost as if every one of your companions hears him, they all turn toward you and you sigh. Espeon blinks, Skitty begs at your feet, Piplup chirps enthusiastically at your snowy white Vulpix - they’re as ready for adventure as you are and you’ve taken it too easy on them.

“I know, I know.”

Throwing your hands up in surrender, you intentionally ignore the buzzing of your phone on the counter next to you. The screen lights up with messages from your friends and fellow gym leaders, one of your best friends’ names at the top of the screen. You read her messages and snicker to yourself, shaking your head.

Call me now. What do you mean you’re traveling with THE Satoru Gojo?????????

THE Satoru Gojo you’ve whined and pouted over for years?????

Oh this is delicious. I love you. Call me NOWWWWWWW.

Scoffing at the last message, you drag the device to your ear and listen to the dial tone on the other end, only to be met with screeching when she picks up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You groan at her words and hear her boyfriend chuckling on the other end, probably making her breakfast in his cozy little Dark type gym in the city.

Some girls have all the luck and it comes in the form of raven haired gym leaders that think they hung the moon. Others get stuck with arrogant men that have the attention of the entire world on them at all times. You make a mental note to ask her for tips later but for now you play defense, shocked at the tone of your own very best friend in your ear.

“What was I supposed to say? This dude I’ve had a crush on for a decade asked me to go rough it with him?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to say but you don’t talk to anyone about anything ever,” you let her go on a rant and you roll your eyes, pantomiming her words about needing to be better about telling everyone what’s happening with you.

It’s true, you’re terrible about keeping everyone up to date even your own mother who you’re certain is calling you judging by the beeping you hear alerting you another call is coming through, but you figured by this point in your twenties everyone would just accept it. You’re old enough that you won’t be changed and it’s time for everyone to just accept it.

“Okay, well, next time the man you’ve loved for ten years shows up and asks you to run away with him you better call me. I love you!”

You return her admiration, smooching and making kissy noises into the microphone, before immediately ending the call and watching the screen fade to blissful blackness, no notifications for a moment. The television screen pans back to the newscasters who are still buzzing with your name and you know anonymity on this journey is a dream.

Perhaps you should have known better from the start that it would be anything but a normal journey to travel by Satoru’s side but you have always been a little bit of a hopeless dreamer.

Your phone buzzes again and you sigh, looking down to see the name on the screen belongs to the man of the hour himself. Discarding your cereal bowl, you scramble to pick up the phone and press it to your ear.

“Did you see me?”

You snort, shaking your head while Espeon crawls across the counter to eavesdrop.

“I did and you looked great. New suit?”

You swear you can hear how smug he sounds from the other end of the speaker and you roll your eyes for the tenth time in an hour, scooting back from the counter to bend at the waist and press your forehead against it. How are you still reacting to a crush this way at 25?

“Yeah somethin’ stupid they put me in to make me camera ready but I didn’t call for compliments although they’re appreciated,” you hum and giggle, wondering what he could have to say next. “Did you like my little shout out though?”

“No. I’ve been getting calls nonstop for fifteen minutes.”

Gojo chuckles and you want to wrap yourself in the sound like a warm blanket. It drips with his confidence but it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard and tomorrow’s deadline of his arrival to come get you starts to loom when your eyes fall on your half packed suitcase that is spread across the floor of your living room. To get your mind off of it, you switch gears and raise your brows, cheeks puffing out as you exhale.

“Satoru, can I ask you something?”

He hums affirmatively. His mind wanders a bit to what you could possibly ask or if you’re rethinking your commitment to take this journey with him. Was this morning too much? He has been reminded endlessly his whole life that he’s too much and from everyone else, it doesn’t bother him. From you, it would wound. He has always wondered what you really think of him, not just a fifteen year old version of you in a denim miniskirt with her mouth agape at his abilities.

“Why did you invite me?”

He’s relieved you have no intention of wounding him after all and he plays off his relieved sigh with another chuckle, twisting his mouth to the side in the back of a car driving him from the PokeNews Network headquarters back to his high rise apartment in the city. The last two days have been a whirlwind of nonsense and he’ll be glad when the rush is over and the two of you are finally on the road to wherever the wind will take you next. The city rushes by outside of the tinted window and you wait for his answer, yanking your phone from your ear to scroll through your social media.

“Is it such a crime to want to get to know a pretty girl better?”

That’s the last answer you were expecting and it’s evident by the cough he hears on the other end of the phone. Espeon approaches you and rubs her head against your knuckles and you squint to read the name on the little dark screen.

“If you wanted a pretty girl I’m sure whoever @FlyHighGojo is must be pretty and would love to be by your side for the journey.”

Your eyes scan over the message in front of you eloquently listing out the ways you could never love the former Champion as much as whoever mans this account does and you laugh, swiping the app closed. He tilts his head, smiling despite himself.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your rabid fangirls? They’re currently on my feed in droves and now they know what I look like so I’ll be shocked if I don’t have a crowd outside of my house by the end of the day.”

He sighs, thinking quickly on his feet. There’s no regret about mentioning you, in fact he’s proud he was finally able to do so since he thinks about you all the time, but he does feel bad that the droves are out and seething over it.

“I’ll come get you before they have the chance. Be ready by 5.”

Looking back at your half packed suitcase, you groan.

“Really?”

“Really. We’ll start tonight instead of tomorrow.”

“Okay, but give my question a real answer first.”

Words dance in Satoru’s head yet he struggles to string them together. How can he tell you it’s because he has had a crush on you for ten straight years without sounding utterly pathetic? This is the most powerful man in the League and certainly a figurehead of the culture of your life and that of all humans who love Pokemon, who would he be if he admitted seeing the look on your face that day has haunted him since?

He was in love at first sight, he has just always been too preoccupied to worry about it. Now, it’s all he can think about.

“I’ve always wanted to get to know you better and I’m running out of time to do it.”

He has been League Champion for eight years, unstoppable in every single way, and he’s willing to walk away from it just to spend time with you. Your heart feels so heavy and light at the same time, a lead filled balloon, and his honesty seals the deal.

“Perfect. I’ll be ready for you at five.”

Amusement is all you hear from the other end of the phone, his laughter making you grin. You make him feel so blissfully normal that he forgets to be embarrassed by his slip of his true feelings.

“That’s all you have to say?”

You hum affirmatively, mirroring his own response to your prior question.

“I don’t want to make you sick of me before we even leave so yes, for now.”

Although he thinks it would be impossible for him to ever get sick of you despite the little bit of distance that still remains between the two of you, he appreciates your forethought. This trip is a means to finally win you over, uninterrupted.

“Alright. I’ll see you at five.”

He ends the call with your goodbye and confirmation of the plan and holds his phone to his chest for a moment, shutting his eyes tightly. Most of what he knows about you is secondhand information fed to him by the same friend who just accosted you for your plans with him, the two of them close thanks to her relationship with his best friend. She has filled in every blank he has ever had when it comes to you and he finds himself indulging in imagining you filling in the rest of it during his ride home.

Yes, this is a chance to get to know a pretty girl better but you aren’t just a pretty girl. You’re you. Patient, kind, funny, gracious…he could go on but stops himself, raising a perfectly arched white brow while he looks out the window and into the limitless sky, as blue as his eyes.

It’s time for him to figure out who he is if not Champion and he can’t wait to do it by the side of the most patient person he has ever met.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #pokemon au #kendall writes

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

A. Matthews - Father’s Day

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): mention’s of sex

Bear with me. This is a recovery fic lol. I have so much medicine in my system it’s amusing 😭

—————————————

“Ohh you’ll never guess what I did today!”

Auston and I could barely contain our smiles in the front seat of his car, glancing at each other while Hudson kicked his feet and giggled in the back. It was no special occasion, but for a single mother one special day in June was like a national holiday after finding a man. Especially a few weeks after he finally proposed. Auston and I had spent our day naked in bed, passionate and loving, laughing and joyous. We needed it, quite honestly. And it felt good to know Auston felt appreciated and happy on such a day. After all the hard work he put in, and the amount of time he spent with Hudson when the summer began, I didn’t take no for an answer when he said he didn’t want to celebrate Father’s Day.

“What did you do today, Hudsy?” Auston asked curiously.

“I can’t tell you! It ruins the surprise!” Hudson’s complaint made us both snicker.

With school out, and myself still working, Auston was usually on Hudson duty from day to day. When he brought up the idea of Hudson attending a summer day camp three days a week, we discussed it for a while before bringing it up to the kid. He seemed completely on board with a little encouragement, and we definitely couldn’t have made a better decision. His days were only four hours long, so we still had an abundance of time with him, and it also gave Auston a break when he needed it, and time for us to spend alone on my days off.

“So there’s a surprise?” I asked, glancing toward the road as Auston drove us back to my place. I had a hunch as to what kind of surprise it was, but I kept it to myself.

“Yes! I have the biggest surprise!”

“It wouldn’t happen to be in the bag, would it?” Auston asked, peeking in the rear view mirror at the brown paper bag Hudson held.

“Don’t look, dude!”

Auston was still patiently waiting for ‘dude’ to turn to ‘dad.’ He and Hudson had a few conversations discussing the fact that he would be Hudson’s dad, but Hudson had yet to actually call him anything but Auston.

“Well when can we see it?” Auston laughed.

“When I’m ready.”

And sure enough, Hudson took his sweet old time. Once we got home, he bounced off to his bedroom while I got started on dinner. Auston joined me to help, but he was more or less a distraction. After I had placed the lasagna in the oven, I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his shoulders and smile.

“Happy Father’s Day.” I whispered between chaste kisses. Auston pressed my back gently against the countertop. I giggled.

“That still sounds weird.” Auston spoke quietly in return.

“Don’t tell Hudson it sounds weird when he decides to start calling you dad.” I advised playfully. Auston pressed another kiss to my lips.

“You know I won’t.” He smirked, his hands traveling to my hips. “You wouldn’t happen to know when that’s coming, would you?”

“That kid is unpredictable. Just be patient, Aus. He loves you. Baby steps.”

“Right.” Auston sighed quietly.

“Right, what?” I was swift to pick up on his mood change.

“Right, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Auston flashed me a feigned smile and pressed a kiss to my head.

“Auston.” I was quick to scold, watching as his eyes fell to the floor in consideration.

“I don’t know, it’s just-“ I pulled away to open the fridge. “I see all my friends with kids and.. they get called dad all the time and.. I don’t know.”

“Makes you a little jealous?”

“Sad, actually.”

I turned back to him, raising a brow.

“I do everything they do. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Auston.” I smiled, in both understanding and reassurance. Every parent questioned their methods, he was no exception. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Look at it from his perspective. Hudson never knew his first dad. He’s never had a guy to call dad. Or a father figure. And now he has a man in his life who takes care of him and his mom. His first proper example of a father. He’s still understanding that this is what a father is.” I reached out to cup his cheek. “You are his dad, I have no doubt about it. Just give it time.” I flashed him a quick smile.

“Baby steps.” Auston repeated my previous words.

“Baby steps.” I affirmed, leaning in once again to kiss him. Auston managed a smile against my lips. When I pulled back, I spotted a little figure in the doorway, startling me.

“Go ahead.” Hudson waved us on, carrying the little paper bag to the table and climbing up into his seat. Auston and I both smiled as we watched him, turning to keep our eyes on the boy as he got situated.

“Do we get to see this surprise now?” Auston asked, suspicious and excited.

“In a few minutes.”

“Damn.” Auston muttered, and I was swift to backhand his arm.

“You know better.” I scolded softly.

“Auston you shouldn’t curse.” Hudson piped up, and I had to stifle a laugh as Auston looked wide eyed at my child.

“Hudson,” I scolded. Despite the situation being amusing, I still had the motherly role to play. “You shouldn’t tell Auston what to do.”

“But you say it’s bad.” Hudson defended himself.

“For grownups it’s a little different.” I tried to reason, but sometimes a simple, ‘because I said so’ was easier to say.

“I guess so.” Hudson shrugged, lifting his eyes to peek at Auston. “Okay.” He breathed out a sigh, placing his hands dramatically on the table. “It’s surprise time.”

“Finally?” Auston smirked, quickly leaving the kitchen to join Hudson at the table.

“Is it for both of us?” I questioned.

“No… sorry mom. It’s just for Auston.”

I glanced at Auston to see the cheeky smirk on his lips, and I rolled my eyes.

“Today at day camp. The girl asked the kids if they celebrated Father’s Day. And a lot of them raised their hands.” Hudson peeked down at the table. “I didn’t.. and later she asked me why. And I told her ‘cause I didn’t have a dad before. And she said that’s okay. That sometimes it’s okay to celebrate your pap or great grandpap.. or nobody at all, and I told her that there was this one guy.”

I folded my arms across my chest and watched as Hudson drew shapes into the wooden table with his finger.

“I told her that he takes care of me when I’m sick. And that he tells me he loves me before he drops me off.. that he sings for me sometimes even if he sucks at singing.. and that he’s marrying my mom.” I considered grabbing my phone to film, but I wanted to live in this moment while it happened.

“Yeah?” Auston prompted him on. “He sounds pretty cool.” I immediately rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, he is pretty cool.” Hudson nodded in response, barely registering the joke Auston had made. “The girl said, that sounds an awful lot like a dad to me.. and then she helped me make this thingy.” Hudson finally opened the brown bag, rummaging through it until he snatched up the item inside.

“It’s not a lot.. but I wanted to celebrate Father’s Day with you.” Hudson’s cheeks turned red as he set his hands on the table and presented a little threaded bracelet. “It says dad.” He explained, and I could only assume there were beads on the one side I couldn’t see. I clasped a hand over my mouth, watching as Auston’s lips turned upward into a huge smile.

“Hudson.” Auston reached out to take the bracelet. “This is awesome, Buddy!” I could barely contain my smile at the sight of tears in Auston’s eyes. I would have loved to butt in, but it wasn’t my moment to share.

“I’m really, really happy you stayed.” Hudson watched Auston slip the bracelet on. “And I’m happy you’re marrying my momma.”

“Well ya know what, bud?” Auston leaned forward to ruffled Hudson’s hair. “I’m happy I’m gonna have the coolest and best kid in the whole universe.”

“I’ll be- technically your step kid though.. right?” My brow shot up in surprise.

“Nope.” Auston shook his head. “You’re just my kid. My son. No steps, no anything. You’re my son.”

“And you’re my dad?”

“Hell yeah, I’m your dad.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #singlereaderfic

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readriordan · 7 months

Text

Happy Halloween!

A day of ghouls and specters, there isn't a better time to be a chthonic demigod - aka a demigod of the Underworld! So let's check in on some of our favorite chthonic kids and see how they spent their holiday:

Nico di Angelo

"I'm not exactly the most popular kid in Camp Half-Blood most days, but Halloween is different. We didn't really celebrate it back in my day in Italy, but I almost feel obligated now. I mean, I'm king of ghosts, I think that means I win Halloween, right? Anyways, I turned Cabin 13 into a haunted house for the other campers this evening. I've even got skeletons roaming around, and Jules-Albert is giving out candy. Usually people would be screaming about that, but the other campers love it. It's nice to be seen as cool for a change."

Hazel Levesque

"Camp Jupiter is busy during the holidays! Everybody's going trick-or-treating around New Rome. In the legion the cohorts are giving out candy to each other and holding a competition to see who can get the biggest haul. Even the lares are getting in on the fun trying to prank campers. Frank and I are on duty in the praetors' offices for any trick-or-treaters who come by. Usually some of the houses in New Rome stay open a little bit later though for the centurions once they get off of door duty, so we'll still have time to go wandering later. Plus, we get all the leftovers anyways, so we'll have plenty of treats regardless!"

Clovis

"Oh, Lou Ellen and I made a deal for tonight - she's going as Kiki from Kiki's Delivery Service, and she said if she can turn me into a cat for the evening she'll split her candy with me 50/50. And I get to nap the whole time. Not too bad of a deal for me, honestly. If I want I could honestly probably make the rounds again for seconds, since nobody would know I was already there. Total win-win."

Lou Ellen Blackstone

"Clovis probably already told you about my costume, but what he doesn't know is that my cabin is going all out. We're not gonna let Cabin 13 win spookiest haunted house, at least not without a fight! Sure he has skeletons and ghosts, but like, c'mon! That's gotta be cheating, right? Us Hecate kids take Halloween very seriously, of course. Especially trick-or-treat. Let's just say we tend to prefer the trick half a little bit more. We'll see how many campers get turned into animals by the end of the night. Unfortunately, Clovis doesn't count towards that."

Alabaster Torrington

"Well, normally I would be spending Halloween with my family, but seeing as the gods exiled me, I can't. That's alright though - I have a plan. You see, me and Dr. Claymore are gonna go scam campers out of their candy. I may be exiled, but as long as I stay outside the borders of Camp Half-Blood, I'm not breaking the rules, and they never said anything about Mistforms. And I might be able to say hi to my half-siblings while I'm there. Just as long as nobody rats me out to Chiron we're good. I'm sure I can convince them to keep quiet in exchange for king-sized candy bars. Oh, someone's coming - gotta go!"

What a spooky bunch! We hope you all had a happy and safe Halloween with plenty of treats.

#pjo #riordanverse #readriordan #read riordan #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #clovis pjo #lou ellen blackstone #alabaster torrington

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 1 year

Text

You can't flirt with her (USWNT x Reader, Christen Press x Reader

I don't know where this came from, it was a random idea that I ran with so I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 2k

It was my first time at camp. I wasn't as nervous as I expected, maybe because Christen was with me and we got to share a room. We had been dating for a little over two years now and we lived together. The team didn't know about us yet, we had decided to let the team get to know me first before telling them. I knew it was going to be hard, I was very attracted to her which meant I was very cuddly and flirty.

I thought maybe I had messed up pretty much as soon as camp started. Christen was wearing jeans and a blouse that just looked amazing on her. The compliment had just slipped out.

"You look amazing."

Christen blushed before giving me a look, "Thank you."

The looks we got from the team made me want to laugh. They were a mix between surprise and glares. Probably because they knew Christen had a girlfriend. When I was pulled aside by Tobin and Ashlyn, I knew they hadn't caught on.

"Hey, just wanted to give you a heads up, she has a girlfriend, you can't be flirting with her."

"I'm not. I like to hype people up when I can, but I'll make sure not to flirt with her."

"Good."

By time the next camp came around, I had gotten to know the team pretty well and they seemed to like me. During the last camp, I had been careful of how I interacted with Christen. The team knew we were close, but I hadn't flirted with her or anything that obviously gave away our relationship. Christen and I had decided that we would tell them this camp, although I had convinced her to let me have some fun before we did. The team had pulled a lot of pranks on me last camp so I just wanted to get a little payback.

I decided to start out slow, complementing her more and light touches as I passed her or sat next to her. Christen would blush and lean into me. I loved that even after two years, I still had that effect on her. The girls however had given me looks and started asking about Christens girlfriend more when I was around. I just had to resist the urge to laugh every time they did. Christen on the other hand would answer the questions with a smile on her face, a smile mixed with love and amusement. As much as Christen told me off or felt mean putting the girls through this, I knew she found it at least a bit funny.

Some of the girls cornered Christen one day when they thought I wasn't around, "Why are you letting her flirt with you? It's not right, you have a girlfriend."

I watched Christen shrug, wondering how she was going to respond, "She's not flirting with me, she's just being friendly. It's how she is."

"Yeah right. She's never like that with us."

"Just drop it. She knows I have a girlfriend and I know when things get too friendly."

"Okay."

Next, I started kissing her cheek or wrapping my arm around her when we stood or sat next to her. We would also cuddle up during movie nights. Such as right now, it was team bonding and I had my head resting in Christens lap as she played with my hair. There were only two days left of camp so everyone was trying to get as much time with each other before we left. Myself included. I had grown to like the team, but I also wouldn't see Christen for a few weeks once camp ended. I was going to Texas to see my family while Christen had to go back home for prior commitments.

"So what were those noises coming from your room last night?"

I cursed myself for not keeping Christen more quiet during last nights activities, not just because it would make them think we slept together which we did, but also out of respect. They didn't need to hear that, "Nothing."

"It sounded awfully like sex, please tell me you two didn't sleep together," Ashlyn asked bluntly, staring me down.

"Of course not. As you keep reminding me, she has a girlfriend. Not that it's really your business, but I met a girl, Christen spent an hour or so in the hotel garden talking to said girlfriend while I had some fun."

They didn't seem to buy it, but dropped the topic, starting up other conversations. I heard parts of the different conversations, although the one about us not sharing a room next time, made me want to laugh. This was way more entertaining then I had expected. After a few minutes Christen got my attention, whispering in my ear, "I think they're getting seriously concerned about our growing relationship."

I smirked, "Wait until they find out how much time I spend between your legs."

"Y/n!"

The team looked at us, eyebrows furrowing, I just shrugged turning back to Christen, "What? It's true."

Once the girls stopped paying attention, Christen spoke again, "Do you think we should just tell them?"

"We will. Maybe tomorrow though. Let me enjoy the fun for a little bit longer."

---

Every time Christen went down on the pitch, it sent fear through every part of my being. The longer she was down, the more terrified I got and the harder it was to stop myself from running to her during a game whether I was watching or playing with her. Seeing as it was a practice, I didn't stop myself from running to her side, beating the medical team there and lacing my fingers with hers, "Chris! Chris are you okay?"

She groaned, "I'm okay. I think I hit my head a little bit and my shoulder might be bruised, but I'm okay."

I scanned over her for any obvious injuries or blood, relaxing slightly when I didn't find anything. Christen squeezed my hand, "Seriously Y/n/n, I'm okay. Help me up?"

I carefully helped her up before kissing her temple and hugging her tightly, allowing myself to relax knowing she was okay, "Ow, careful. Bruised remember?"

"Sorry."

"That is definitely not how friends react," I heard from behind me, but I was too focused on Christen to do anything about it. Coach called off practice early seeing it was the last day of camp. I helped Christen back to the locker room, not that she needed it, but I was worried which turned into overprotectiveness. The girls were giving me looks, but right now I didn't care.

We managed to sneak away when I helped her to the shower. Christen cupped my cheek, pecking my lips quickly, "Stop worrying, I'm okay. I might be a bit sore, but it's nothing I can't handle and nothing a bath later won't fix. Now go get cleaned up while I shower."

The girls gave me a look when I came back out, but I ignored them again. Things had happened in the past that made me really struggle when people I cared for got hurt. I hated when people I loved got hurt, accident or not, but when it came to the person I loved most in this world, that worry didn't go away easily. I felt myself getting annoyed when they wouldn't stop staring at me, so I stood up, deciding to wait to shower and wait outside instead. It was always harder to control my temper after Christen got hurt, "Didn't your parents ever teach you it's rude to stare?"

Ten minutes later, the team filed out to the bus. I had my headphones in, ignoring them as I sat at the back of the bus. Christen sat with Tobin, but looked back at me occasionally. My phone buzzed with a text from Christen.

Chris <3 : Stop being grumpy. I know you get like this after someone get's hurt, but I'm okay so stop it. It wasn't their fault. Enjoy the last day at camp, think you can do that for me?

Y/n: Yes ma'am. I need a shower when we get back.

Christen just replied with a winky emoji and went back to her conversation with Tobin. I couldn't help the small smile that stretched across my face. I noticed Tobin watching me before my phone buzzed again. This time it was a group chat with me, Tobin and Christen.

Tobin: You're Chris's girlfriend aren't you?

Y/n: About time someone figured it out. What finally got you to make the connection?

Tobin: Christen was texting her girlfriend and I noticed the smile on your face. I just kinda assumed. Why didn't you just tell us?

Y/n: Well you guys pranked me so much the first camp, I wanted payback. Chris just went along with it. She'll deny it, but she found it amusing.

Chris: Never! I'm sorry I didn't tell you Tobin, we just wanted you guys to get to know her before you knew.

Tobin: Don't be, I understand. When are you going to tell the rest of the team? They're convinced you two are sleeping together and Chris is cheating on her girlfriend.

Y/n: They'll find out tomorrow, one last show ;)

Chris: Don't ask, I don't even know

---

Camp had officially ended which meant it was time for me to leave Christen for a few weeks. We had been apart for longer, but I would still miss her like crazy. I was leaning against the wall waiting for Christen while talking to the team. Christen walked up, standing across from me. I laced my fingers with hers, pulling her in and connecting our lips. Christen looped her arms around my shoulders as I pulled away, nuzzling my nose against her neck, "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too. It's only a few weeks baby, we'll be okay."

Christen was pulled away by Ali with a glare meant to kill, "Okay that's enough, Christen you have a fucking girlfriend, one you're about to go home to yet here you are making out with someone else. I never expected you to be this type of person Chris."

The laugh I tried to stop at how mad they looked slipped out making Ali and Alyssa glared at me, "What? You think being someone's mistress is funny?"

I cleared my throat, trying to remove the smile that had formed, "Of course not."

They crossed their arms, glares getting worse somehow, "We told you she had a girlfriend."

"I know, but-"

"No buts, you don't go after someone who's already taken."

"Can we not do a lecture now please? I want to enjoy my time with Chris before I go."

"Don't do dumb shit then. You crossed a line Y/n, you both did."

"Okay, okay I get it. She's just so attractive, amazing, smart-"

"But she has a girlfriend!"

At this point I was starting to wonder how smart they actually were. I knew they didn't know about me before, but I really thought they knew Christen better than that and would put it together. Christen was the most loyal and faithful person there was, she would never cheat on someone.

"I am very aware. I know her girlfriend very well."

"How?"

"Well, I've known her girlfriend for about 30 years, shower, dress and feed her everyday, see her in the mirror everyday. Do I really have to keep going for you guys to take the hint? Let's see what I see her girlfriend do. I- I mean she wakes up next to her almost everyday, plays with her hair when she can't sleep, makes her dance with her when work is getting too much because no matter her mood it always makes her smile, I tell her stupid stories to ma-"

Ali groaned loudly, pushing my shoulder, "Oh you bastard. You are her girlfriend. Why didn't you just tell us that? Why put us through that?"

"Sorry, you guys are just fun to mess with. We wanted you to get to know me before you knew. It was also a bit of payback after all the pranks I got last camp. I honestly thought you would realise. Can I go back to kissing my girlfriend before I don't see her for weeks please?"

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press/reader #christen press imagine #woso x reader

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captainsophiestark · 2 months

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Hypocrite

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by @flowers-and-fichte! Hope you enjoy, Novalis, and thanks for the request!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Bucky's gotten close with Peggy's best friend, the two bonding over the reckless mavericks they both chose to care so much about. But Steve and Peggy aren't the only couple dancing around each other in this war.

Word Count: 1,396

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: I can't believe this is my first time writing for Bucky, lol. Most of the rest of the fandom has been here since Winter Soldier, but better late than never I guess!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I shook my head as I barely managed to put one foot in front of the other, heading through the front door of my favorite dive bar. The Howling Commandos and I had spent many a night here, toasting success or planning our next move, but tonight I was without the rest of my group.

Peggy Carter was going to well and truly kill me, and I needed a night to process that.

She'd been my best friend for just about as long as I could remember; we'd joined SOE together, and somehow managed to end up on General Philips' staff, two of the only women getting as close to combat as we did. We made an excellent team, and normally, I had no complaints. But sometimes she could just be so reckless, flying head first into insane danger, that my heart needed a break lest it burst on the spot.

Tonight had been no exception. Peggy and Steve Rogers, the one and only Captain America, had worked together on a Commandos mission just across enemy lines. We'd been successful, and the two of them together had made an incredible difference in the war effort, but damned if I didn't also rue the day they'd met.

I slumped into a stool at the bar, barely registering my surroundings until someone slid a glass of my favorite drink in front of me. I frowned at it, then turned to my left to see who exactly it had come from.

Sargeant Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers' best friend, stared back at me with a faint smile on his face. He looked almost as tired as I felt.

"You look like you could use this," he said. I huffed.

"Thanks. How'd you know what I liked?"

He just shrugged, his eyes never once leaving mine as I took a drink, the corner of his mouth gently tugging up.

"I usually pay attention to the drink orders of pretty girls."

I snorted so hard a bit of my drink came out of my nose. It burned like hell, so it took me a few moments to recover myself enough to meet Bucky's gaze again. He'd leaned forward a bit, one eyebrow raised, looking a bit concerned.

"You alright there, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, fine. Just wasn't expecting you to hit on me, especially with that lame ass pickup line."

"Lame?" Bucky asked, a hand flying to his heart in mock-outrage. "That hurts."

I just rolled my eyes. "Knock it off, Barnes. We've quite literally been through hell together, I think we're a little past you trying to get my number in a bar."

"Well then how would you suggest I get your number?"

I paused, drink halfway to my lips again, and cut my eyes towards Bucky to let him know how truly ridiculous I thought the question was.

"You already have my number. It's the same one for Peggy and all the Commandos, as long as we're all stationed at the same camp."

Bucky just stared at me for a long moment. I sipped my drink and set it back down on the bar before he finally spoke again.

"Shit."

"Yeah. Nice try though."

Bucky huffed a laugh and took a sip of his own drink, then turned back to me with renewed energy and a bright, charming smile. I held up a hand before he could launch into whatever he was planning to say next.

"Okay Buck, why don't you just tell me what this is about. Because I came in here exausted after dealing with our best friends, and I don't have the energy to coach your rusty ass on how to flirt, if that's what you're trying to practice."

Bucky cleared his throat, deflating a little, but not all the way. He sighed, then set his shoulders and met my stare again with a determined expression.

"Actually, I'm trying to ask you on a date."

I laughed, until I realized Bucky wasn't laughing.

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Very. Although you're really testing my resolve, since you've now laughed in my face twice. You know I used to be good at this before the war?"

I shook my head, a disbelieving smile subconsciously forcing its way onto my face.

"Bucky... I'm not saying no, but... I mean, why? Why me, why now? We've known each other and been working on missions since Steve got you out of that prison... what changed to make you think this was a good idea all of a sudden?"

He sighed heavily, the muscles in his jaw working as he apparently forced the words to come.

"I've been feeling like I wanted to ask you out since I saw you, honestly. But we were going to have to work together, and I think it's pretty clear I'm a little rusty. So I waited, and I was just starting to convince myself to wait all the way to the end of the war, until I tried to get Steve to ask Peggy on a date."

My eyebrows shot up. "You did? How did that go? Those two have been dancing around each other for way too long, I've been trying to tell Peggy the same thing-"

"Well, maybe between the two of us we can actually get them to take the leap. But I realized when I was talking to Steve that I can't expect him to take my advice when I won't take it myself. I'm turning into the biggest hypocrite in the world encouraging him to talk to Peggy while chickening out on talking to you. So... here we are."

"Here we are..." I repeated, my voice a little faint as the full weight of Bucky's confession sank in. He had feelings for me, and apparently had for a while now. And now he was asking me on a date, the fact that we were in the middle of a war be damned.

I grinned.

"Is that a good sign? That looks like a good sign, but now I'm not sure..."

"It's a great sign, Bucky," I said, meeting his eyes and feeling a spark of excitement in my chest. "I'm glad you decided to take your own advice."

"So that's a yes?"

"That's absolutely a yes." Bucky's shoulders finally relaxed, a smile appearing on his face to match my own. "So... when do we do this? Do we call tonight our first date? We're out together, the two of us, at a bar..."

"No. No way," Bucky quickly decided. I raised an eyebrow at him, so he continued. "Tonight's not a date, sweetheart. Even in the middle of a war, I can find a way to make our night on the town something special. A little magical, and definitely just about the two of us. Tonight might be just the two of us, but it's about the two reckless idiots we call friends."

I laughed, then reached for my drink and raised it towards Bucky.

"I'll toast to that. To taking tonight to cope with the people we care about, and putting something on the books for a real night out together soon."

"Hear hear."

Bucky and I shared a smile, then each took a drink. I finished mine off, then sat back in my chair and stared at the man before me.

"So... how do you feel about a game of darts? Person who's not throwing is allowed to distract the other person, but only by relating the most insane shit our friends have done lately. True stories only."

"Bring it on. I've known Steve long enough that nothing's gonna surprise me anymore."

I snorted as the two of us grabbed another round of drinks and headed for the dartboard at the back of the bar.

"Look, Peggy might've gone through a phase of trying to be a proper lady, but she's been making up for it by doing even more ridiculous nonsense lately. Your boy's got nothing on her."

"I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Bucky and I shared another smile. The routine was familiar, but now, there was an extra spark attached that hadn't really been there before. Even though tonight wasn't a date, spending time with Bucky felt a little different, now, in a very good way.

Maybe this could be the silver lining I held on to the next time Peggy tried to kill me via heart attack, until the end of the war and beyond.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @songbirdcannabe @infinetlyforgotten @coinsublime

If your name is crossed out, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason

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heesdreamer · 1 year

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SILENCED (2)

MASTERLIST

GENRE ➩ enhypen zombie apocalypse au!

SUMMARY ➩ navigating life 1 year post end of the world was already difficult as you avoided rotting corpses with hefty appetites and groups with various bad intentions. things get harder when you run into a group of survivors, 7 boys who make it impossible to run away.

WC ➩ 5k

WARNINGS ➩ everything the zombie apocalypse could bring lol, gore, mentions of death and injuries and lots of talk abt starvation and hunger this time around

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ this is a really short update but it was starting to bug me the longer it sat in my notes so i hope short is better than nothing. not proofread as always

Even small trips weren’t easy in the apocalypse. Runs to grocery stores could be the last thing you ever do and getting a few hours away could take weeks as you navigated rocky terrains and avoided uncrossable areas.

Transportation was something you’d taken for granted back then before the world had fallen apart.

You can remember tapping your foot impatiently against the subway station floor, arms crossed as you huffed and checked your watch for the umpteenth time. Maybe you were running late for school or you had just gotten off of work and wanted to get home fast so you could eat something.

Thinking about this now you felt utterly ridiculous, spoiled and sheltered from how good you truly had things.

But it wasn’t you alone who had these trivial problems and you considered that too as you walked with the group of boys, trailing behind a few feet but never left unattended considering they kept looking back to make sure you hadn’t disappeared into the woods at some point.

You wondered if you’d ever been somewhere at the same time as them. Seoul was big but it wasn’t spacious enough that this was totally an impossible thing to have happened. Maybe they’d been on the same train as you at some point, leaving school together and crowding around each other as they pulled playing cards.

It wasn’t a complete far fetched idea that you could have passed Jungwon on a crowded street when you went to get lunch or narrowly missed Heeseung as he rushed to an appointment he was late too.

You didn’t like to think about them like this, as people who all had lives and families before this all happened. You didn’t even like to think of yourself this way, chest tightening with the reminder of how much you’ve lost as this world changed.

It’d been days now since the camp had gotten overrun and you’d practically spent the last 72 hours straight doing nothing but walking. The straightest route to your destination hadn’t been safe enough to travel through, adding even more time onto the walk.

Most of it had been quiet, only hearing the boys speak in hushed whispers to each other every so often. It was hard to hold a conversation when you were all exhausted and hungry, running on autopilot and the fear filled adrenaline that built up every time the sun started to set.

Heeseung had been the quietest of everybody and he barely looked at the rest of you, his gaze sharp and focused as he continually scanned the surrounding areas. You thought back to your talk, the responsibility he held on his shoulders and you felt troubled for him now that such a major setback had occurred, now that their only home was gone.

He was closest to you as you lagged behind the group, keeping his eye on the boys ahead of him as the trudged along.

You were picking up your pace to catch up to him before you even confirmed within yourself it was a good idea, slowing back to a casual pace once you were side by side and reaching your hand out to gently tug on the sleeve of his long shirt. His eyes were shooting down to the point of contact and then back up at you with a frown.

“Hey.” You breathed out, trying to calm him down before you made your request. His eyes softened just slightly at the sound of your voice and he raised an eyebrow. “If we find somewhere safe to stop and rest for a few hours I can go try to get us something to eat.”

He watched you as you spoke and you knew he didn’t like your suggestion judging by the way his face hardened again, his jaw tensing as he scoffed and looked away from you. You figured he thought this was you finally putting your plan into action, leading them into the wilderness just to ditch them.

“I’m serious.” You had kept your hand on his sleeve still as you spoke and only now moved it, wrapping it fully around his arm so he could understand your earnest words. “They can’t go on like this much longer.”

He looked back over at you as you said that and you felt guilty at the sad expression on his face, knowing he had been thinking the same thing.

It must’ve been impossible for him to deal with the past few days, watching his family and the boys he was meant to lead barely make it through the day. The younger boys were stumbling as they walked, holding each others shoulders occasionally in an attempt to keep steady under their own crippling weight.

“Where’s safe?” He was genuinely asking but his voice broke around the word, already hoarse from not using it or having anything to drink. He sounded disbelieving that it was a possibility and he staggered slightly, knocking into your side.

Sunghoon had been lurking a few feet ahead and hearing this conversation he slowed a bit, letting you and Heeseung catch up as he leaned towards the two of you. “There’s a neighborhood or something up the ways a bit.” His tone was low so the other boys couldn’t pick it up.

You gave him a questioning look and he glared at you, eyes shooting down to your hand on Heeseung’s arm and your close proximity. “I saw it on the map.”

Heeseung nodded at his explanation and pat his back a few times in thanks, walking away from the two of you to alert the others you’d be stopping soon for a bit.

You had expected Sunghoon to follow him or at least drift back to his previous position, furthering himself away from you. It surprised you a bit when he continued to stand next to you but the look on his face didn’t, a suspicious glare as he watched you with no sign of care at your uncomfortable shifting.

“Something on your mind Sunghoon?” You were mumbling in irritation. You didn’t expect to become best friends but you hadn’t done anything to warrant him treating you like a criminal.

“Why are you still here?” He was saying it quickly like it had been on the tip of his tongue and you looked at him from the corner of your eye. “What are you planning?”

“I’m not planning anything.” You scoffed and took an offended step away from him, stopping in your slow pace. “And in case you forgot, I wasn’t given a choice in being here.”

He was stopping too and turning to look at you, sparing a glance behind him at the other boys who had continued walking. They weren’t going fast enough to leave you behind and the road was a straight shot surrounded by trees and no connected off paths so you wouldn’t lose them by stopping.

When he was facing you again he looked more angry and if you didn’t know any better you’d consider him a threat right now, a danger to you. However you’d seen the way he interacted with the group, with the dead even, and he wasn’t any issue. He was more gentle than he appeared regardless if he disliked you and was frustrated.

“Don’t bullshit me. You could’ve left if you wanted to, don’t be stupid.” He was shaking his head and you gave him a confused look so he explained further. “You didn’t even try to get away from them, no tears no questions. I can tell you’re smart and good at this world so I know you can tell the difference between a good person and a bad one.”

“Then what’s your problem with me?” You spat at him and cut him off, not wanting him to say more.

You could tell he was the most observant of the group but you didn’t like what he was implying. Your stomach turned at the thought of him seeing how much you didn’t necessarily want to be alone again, despite knowing it was the best option in the long run.

If you were alone you wouldn’t need to worry about things like this. You wouldn’t have to think about feeding them before you fed yourself because there would be no ache in your heart at the thought of them going hungry.

“My problem?” He was sneering but his voice was desperate like he wanted you to understand his point. “My problem is how excited Riki is to have a friend to talk to. My problem is that Sunoo basically thinks he owes you his life for getting you into this situation in the first place and my problem is that you aren’t going to stay.”

You both fell silent after that and he looked away from you, visibly upset and frustrated at the idea of you disappearing before you got to the place you’d showed them.

He flinched when he looked at you and saw your lips opening and closing, parting as you tried to think of something you could tell him that wouldn’t give him false hope but you also didn’t want to lie to him. Despite his wincing he waited patiently to hear what you had to say.

“Tell Heeseung I’ll catch up with you guys.” You muttered back and he watched in bewilderment as you turned and disappeared into the woods.

——

It took you an hour to stop replaying the conversation in your mind and you were glad considering you hadn’t managed to catch anything since leaving the boys on the road.

Part of you was laughing at the fact that, here you were. In the woods with full freedom and capability to disappear and never come back and yet you were sat crouching behind a log as you attempted to get them all something to eat. You quieted the voice with the reminder you could leave whenever you wanted and you would, you just didn’t want to leave them hungry and lost.

That’s all this was, you kept telling yourself over and over as you continued to track whatever animal was leaving small footprints in the dry dirt.

This was simply you being a decent person, not letting the apocalypse shred you of your morals and humanity. It wasn’t because you were starting to grow used to the boys, starting to care about them and their safety as individuals and a whole.

You’d finally caught sight of the animal as you slowed to a stop, a hefty raccoon shifting over some sticks and rocks just off in the distance. It hadn’t noticed you yet and you were glad for this considering you only had a knife to work with.

Before you could make any attempt at approaching in, steadily planning out the right angle to pounce forward, it was falling on its side and hitting the floor with a cry and a thud.

Your eyes widened in surprise, rushing forward to see what had happened to it. It’s face was bloody and you quickly realized it had been shot in the head by something, more accurately someone. You knew who it was before you turned around to check.

“You’re a good shot.” You sighed as you spoke and glanced over your shoulder to see Jungwon stepping out from behind the tree.

He was definitely the most skilled when it came to weapons, especially in accuracy and you’d quickly noted a few days ago that he was the only boy to have a silencer on his gun of choice. You knew it was him considering the fact there’d been little noise as he killed the animal.

“Took archery in highschool.” He shrugged like it was a casual skill to have as he approached you and the raccoon. “Guess I don’t have to tell you about that though do I?”

For a second you weren’t sure what he was referring to before you realized he was alluding to the fact you also shot with a bow typically, looking up at him with widened eyes which caused him to give you a half smile as he shrugged again.

“Can tell by the way you carry yourself I guess. Plus you’re a hunter, can’t imagine your weapon of choice is a knife.” He was explaining and he crouched down next to you, examining the animal for any bites or signs of disease.

“If you see any bow shops around here feel free to let me know.” You were mumbling back and he chuckled a small laugh. “They send you out here to follow me?”

He was shaking his head and you were slightly surprised at this considering you assumed he had been tasked with making sure you didn’t run away, potentially bringing you back if you made any attempt to. You were reminded of what Sunghoon had said about being able to leave whenever you wanted.

“I was looking for food just incase.” He didn’t finish his sentence but it was obvious what he was implying. Incase you didn’t return and they still needed to eat something.

Jungwon offered you a hand so he could pull you up off the ground where you were still crouching, you eyed him hesitantly but took it with an appreciative nod and stood slowly after you grabbed the animal by it’s tail in your free hand.

You followed behind him in silence as you made your way back to the road, back to where the boys had set up camp for the night. You tried not to think about what this meant and how you coming back willingly was going to come across to them. They were going to find out what you’d been trying to deny since running into them and your stomach was turning.

By the time you got there, the sun had nearly finished setting and it was almost too dark to see in front of you.

The fire the boys were sat around made you nervous considering how exposed you were and how near the woods lingered, the light and crackle of the flames potentially drawing the undead out of the woods and giving you all a replay of what had happened earlier this week. Four sets of eyes turned towards you when you and Jungwon popped out from the woods.

Heeseung was standing up and coming over to the two of you, patting Jungwon affectionately when he spotted the animal you’d handed to him at some point during your walk back.

“You okay?” Then he was turning to you and your face flushed as he grabbed you, his hands holding onto both your arms directly underneath your shoulders as he scanned your face for any sign of distress.

You were nodding awkwardly but your hands were instinctively coming up to cup around his elbows, leaving you both holding each other at an awkward distance. The other boys must have thought you were crazy as you touched their friend and leader but a large part of you felt connected to him after the auto shop, him having saved your life so directly.

When you both made your way over to the fire, Heeseung was clearing his throat and catching the attention of the older boys and Jungwon, who began to shake Riki and Sunoo awake at the signal for directions.

“We’re going to clear the house on the corner.” Heeseung was speaking in a low voice and you took the opportunity to observe where you were sitting.

The neighborhood, if you could call it that, was only a few run down houses neatly tucked away outside the main road. You imagined it had homed one or two families of rednecks in its prime, roofs titled and covered in roots and leaves. The boys had set up the fire in the middle of the three buildings, seemingly waiting for you all to be here before they entered.

“Shouldn’t we clear them all? Eliminate any potential surprises?” You were shocking yourself and the others as you voiced your suggestion casually.

Heeseung was looking at you with a bewildered look for a few seconds before glancing back towards the houses and nodding in agreement, realizing your idea was better than his.

It wasn’t the most grueling task and you’d cleared areas must bigger than this with much more active dead, yet you still had a sick feeling in your stomach as Heeseung leaned his shoulder against the first door and prepared to ram into. It only took one corpse to end everything and you tried not to think about this as he was pulling back and slamming forward against the decaying wood.

He was stumbling forward into the house and again, you could smell them before you saw or heard them. There was three inside and it looked to be a family, one significantly smaller than the other as it attempted to get closer to Heeseung and take a bit out of him. Jake was moving forward in a rush and taking out the biggest one, axe swinging over his shoulder and landing directly between its eyes with a loud crack.

The second was on its knees before you even processed it and you knew it must’ve been Jungwon from the doorway judging by the way it simply crumbled onto the floor without any fight or noise.

Riki was inside the house and tasked on the third walker, the smallest one that was clearly just barely older than him if at all. She had a large blood stain on the front of his pajama sweater and you tried not to wonder what had happened here that left them all like this, what measures were mistakenly taken to try and prevent them from turning. You didn’t like to think about the walkers being people similarly to the way you didn’t like to think about survivors in the old world, easier to make the separation and get it over with.

You could immediately tell Riki was struggling with doing this judging by the way he was frozen in the middle of the room, watching the corpse approach him.

He was facing away from you so you couldn’t see his expression but you didn’t need to anyways, knowing from his stiff back and hands fidgeting around his crowbar that he was hesitating and hesitating was one of the deadliest things you could possibly do. He had told you before that he didn’t kill as much as the other boys, being kept away from it all the best they could manage up until more recently when they started to take him out to practice in small intervals.

You were moving before you thought about it, circling in front of him and taking out the small corpse as cleanly as you could. You cupped your back of her head as she dropped, motionless now, and you tried to help lower her body onto the floor so the impact wasn’t as upsetting.

“I could’ve done it.” Riki’s voice was sounding behind you and you turned your head to look at him, standing back to your full height and giving him a confused glance once you noticed how agitated his expression was.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, if you’d done something or if maybe he was just upset you’d stepped in on his kill, he was turning on his heel and leaving the small house. You were fearful for a second watching him leave and then you remembered Sunoo, Sunghoon and Jay were just a few feet away at the other house over.

You almost followed him out the door in confusion, wanting to understand what exactly had made him look at you like that just to storm off but you were stopped by Heeseung stepping in front of you, bringing a hand up to your chest to stop your advances completely as he looked down at you with an apologetic glance.

“What happened?” You whispered to him, eyes wide slightly with confusion. The look the youngest boy had given you was deadly and the energy in the house had shifted drastically now. “What did I do wrong?”

“He’s just sensitive about that stuff.” Heeseung mumbled back, keeping his voice low in case the boy was still able to hear just off in the distance. The other boys in the house with you weren’t saying anything and eventually filed out once they realized your conversation was taking a private turn.

“Because I took his kill?” Your voice was cracking with disbelief, not able to understand what he was attempting to get across to you. Riki didn’t seem like the type to have an ego so large it would be damaged by you stepping in for an assisted kill. “It was about to grab him.”

Heeseung was sighing softly like you were poking a bear, glancing over his shoulder out the open door for a second before taking another step closer to you. You didn’t lose your confused expression, eyebrows furrowing further when he was bringing a hand up to gently touch your cheek before pushing a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.

He was clearly trying to soothe you and help you calm down but if anything it upset you further, solidifying it in your mind that you had done something wrong.

“You’ll have to talk to him about it. It’s not my place.” He was eventually continuing on when he realized what he was doing wasn’t working in taking your mind off of it.

You nodded softly and made a mental note to bring it up after things calmed down and you were certain things were safe for the night, vaguely hearing a sharp whistle outside that you’d learned to understand meant things were clear for now. The other boys must’ve cleared the other two houses while you were talking to Heeseung and now you were able to eat and get some rest finally before talking to Riki.

——

The food wasn’t a lot but it was enough to help everybody feel a bit better, passing each other small portions around the fire before retiring into one of the houses to rest.

You all decided to sleep together on the living room floor to minimize the risk that being spread out would being, somebody always staying awake in different shifts to keep watch outside on the porch. You laid in silence while you waited for your turn, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep in such a foreign place.

When it was the youngest turn to take watch, you sat and tracked his shadow as he left the dark room and slipped out the front door, mumbling a small greeting to Sunghoon who was finally coming in and joining the rest of the boys who were already asleep. You got up as slowly as you could and gently stepped over the bodies on the floor so you didn’t wake them up from their much needed rest, following Riki outside.

He whipped his head over when the door creaked up and sighed when he saw it was only you slowly closing it behind you. You glanced at him awkwardly and tried to decide wether to stand weirdly or to take the seat next to him on the small outside porch couch and risk upsetting him further.

“Just sit down.” He was mumbling once he noticed your dilemma and you hesitantly took the offer, sitting as far away from him as you could.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night and the woods while you ignored each other. You weren’t sure if you should speak first but he clearly knew why you followed him out here in the first place so you bit the bullet and started to talk before his shift ended.

“I have a brother around your age.” He picked his head up when you started to speak but you avoided looking at him for now. “You actually remind me of him sometimes, just the way you joke around. You’re a bit braver than him though but I’m sure he would’ve grown out of that eventually, you know? I didn’t mind it though… it came easy to me to take care of him.”

Riki wasn’t saying anything just yet but you could hear his breathing increase and you didn’t feel him looking at you anymore and he slowly understood what point you were trying to get across by opening up to him about this. You wanted him to understand why you did what you had for him and why it was second nature for you to step in like that once you thought he was in danger.

“I never though he was childish or a coward for needing my help sometimes, that’s what big sisters are for.” You took a pause so you could breathe, playing with your hands nervously. “It took him a long time to want to ever ask for it though… just too long I guess.”

You didn’t need to finish or directly say out loud what had happened to your brother, he picked it up as soon as you started talking about him.

He was scooting closer to you on the bench and you felt him grab your hand that was in your lap, stopping you from picking at your skin anxiously. You turned your head to look at him with a sad smile, biting your lip to try and stop from crying when you noticed how equally teary his expression was.

“You could’ve killed that walker.” You stated firmly and he nodded along with you, now fully understanding why you had. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to have to.”

Riki was still nodding and you felt slightly guilty now as you watched tears run down his face, avoiding looking at you again out of embarrassment. You wanted to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to cry, it was okay to still feel things in this world that weren’t fear and hunger but you weren’t sure that was even true so you didn’t dare voice it.

You stayed with him for the rest of his shift and when he eventually started to yawn and lose focus on your surroundings, you reassured him it was okay to go to bed and that you weren’t tired.

He hesitantly was leaving you out there and you although you were glad things were patched up between the two of you for the most part, you also felt a wave of relief over having a moment alone. It wasn’t lost on you that you were being trusted as part of the watch shift cycles, despite the fact you could easily disappear in the night and leave them with no warning if something stumbled upon the sleeping boys.

It was getting harder to deny what you were feeling more and more every passing hour the eight of you survived together.

It had bothered you when Riki was upset with you, deeply bothered you to the point of your skin crawling in nerves that you had done something wrong. You were distraught watching them all face hunger earlier this week and you felt deep sadness when they lost their camp and their home.

You especially didn’t want to consider what it meant that you liked listening to their stories around the fire. You thought Sunghoon was funny even when he didn’t seem like he realized he was telling a joke and it made your heart warm when Sunoo and Jungwon covered the sleeping older boys with blankets.

Heeseung was the worst of all, the most confusing part to all of this. You’d been most fearful of him at the beginning but the more you thought about him and his resolve, his brave heart taking leadership and treating the boys like they were more important than his own safety and survival, the more you liked being in his company.

He made you feel seen and human whenever he turned to ask for your opinion on something and he was surprisingly gentle whenever he spoke to you in hushed whispers or helped you over bits of debris in your pathway.

You liked these boys and you liked their hearts and love for each other that this world was slowly running out of.

Yet you couldn’t stop hearing the screams of your family and others you’d encountered, people you knew for months all the way to people you’d simply passed by on one of your runs. People didn’t last long in this world and it was a miracle that all seven of these boys were still together, still without major injury or setbacks.

Maybe that was the secret trick to it all, maybe their care and love for each other above all else was helping them survive and manage without facing the reality of your loved ones being tore away from you and ripped apart limb by limb.

It still made your stomach hurt to think about any of it though, it was never apart of your plan to care about somebody again after everything you’d lost and you were only feeling more and more certain in your decision to leave as fast as you could.

No matter what it takes.

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roseofdarknessblog · 10 months

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Irreplaceable (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 5 040

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: When you married Levi, you already knew he would one day be an amazing father. So when your daughters were born, you had zero doubts. Even Levi gained confidence in himself after becoming a father. But with the Rumbling and the birth of your third child, many things changed once and for all.

Irreplaceable

You swallowed hard, looking over your shoulder once again. Levi was only sleeping, he was alive. You just checked... he was breathing just fine and his pulse, although still a little weak, was regular. Hange did everything to ensure that he was going to be okay. But still. As you saw him there in such a terrible state, your mind started to wander to the darkest places.

He simply couldn’t die. No. What would you tell your children, if their father never came back home? His precious little girls wouldn’t understand what happened. Not at seven and four years old.

„Are you okay?“ Hange asked when they came back to your little improvised camp with more firewood. If it weren’t for the Scouts they killed to keep you safe and the stuff that was left after their deaths, you would have nothing. Only the still-soaked clothes you were wearing. „How’s your knee doing?“

You waved your hand. „It’s a little swollen, but okay. I’ll be fine,“ you assured them, rubbing your left knee. It hurt pretty badly, but nothing you wouldn’t be able to suffer through. You didn’t even know where and how you injured it. Only when you finally came out of the river, it was already hurting. „He’s fine, I just checked.“

Both of you looked at Levi before Hange nodded and sat down at the fire next to you. Staying awake and alert was the most important thing. There was still a possibility, that someone would come after you.

„I’m sorry you have to be a part of this.“

You shrugged, looking into the fire for a moment before you looked back at Levi once again. „If I ever see Floch again, I’m going to rip him apart like a piece of paper,“ you hissed, looking back at Hange. Even they, your lifelong friend, were surprised about what you just said. But after all, you had all the right reasons to hate him. And all his men as well. They wanted to kill Levi when he needed their help the most. And anybody, who even thought about hurting your family was your enemy and deserved to feel your anger.

You were just an ordinary civilian, not a soldier. You spent your life on your family’s little farm with your father, or on the farmer’s market in Trost with your mother. That kind of life was all you knew. But just until you met Captain Levi Ackerman and the two of you fell in love. It was a long and slow process, but the wait was so worth it. The stoic Captain, who was known as Humanity's strongest soldier, became the most treasured person in your life and after years of getting to know each other and dating, you became his wife and soon after the mother of his children.

„What are we going to do, Hange? We can’t stay here.“

„I know, but... I need a little more time to think. And Levi needs to rest, we can’t move just yet.“

„I have to get back home.“ Hange nodded, reached for one of your hands, and squeezed it reassuringly. „My parents are surely taking the best care of our girls, but what if the Yeagerists go after them as well? What if they hurt them, just to lure me and Levi out from hiding?“

„No, no, no. Don’t even think about that, they’ll be fine, I’m sure. I know your dad, Y/N. He’s going to chase them away with his rifle if he has to.“ Something about that thought made you smile a bit. Yes, your father would do such a thing. His family was his biggest treasure and if anybody tried to hurt his wife, you, Levi, or his granddaughters, he wouldn’t hesitate to even kill to keep you all safe.

But still... he was alone and he wasn’t the youngest anymore. And if Floch with the others truly came to your parent’s house...

When they crossed your path in the morning, you were heading to the town for some mundane shopping. The day started out as usual, your girls were still sleeping and you decided to get the shopping out of the way as soon as possible. You never thought, that you wouldn’t return home. Floch with the Yeagerists cornered you out of nowhere and made you go with them.

For a long time, you didn’t know what they wanted from you – from Captain Levi Ackerman’s wife. Nobody bothered to tell you what was going on. Only when all of a sudden Hange joined you. From that moment, everything started to go downhill.

And now you were here – on the run, hiding in the forest and feeling more scared than ever before. Your husband’s life was still in immediate danger, while you couldn’t be sure if your parents and daughters were okay. And on top of that... you were carrying another little Ackerman nobody except your parents knew about.

„I’m pregnant again,“ you heard yourself say very quietly to Hange. It was only natural to tell your best friend about something this special. If they weren’t spending the last few months in Marley or planning the Liberio raid, they would already know and probably be as excited as when you were pregnant before. „Nobody knows, only my parents.“

Hange looked at you with a huge surprise on their face. „When did it happen? We’ve been away for almost three months and Levi was here with Zeke since our return.“

„I’m roughly five months along,“ you said, putting your hand on your belly. Every single day, you spent more and more time when you were getting dressed. Mainly when you went out to town. You wanted to hide your growing pregnancy belly as best as possible to avoid rumors from people you knew. „I first started feeling a little off before you all left for Marley for the first time. But I didn’t go to the doctor until Levi was home. And since then I didn’t really have a chance to tell him.“

You only saw Levi for a couple of short minutes, after they came back. That time was enough for a long hug and a couple of quick kisses. Levi asked how you and the girls were doing, and that was basically it. He was gone once more and when you saw him again today, he was bloodied and on the brink of death.

„So another member of Levi’s personal squad, eh?“

You smiled when Hange excitedly leaned closer and hugged you. „Yeah, another little Ackerman is on the way. Maybe finally a little boy.“

Levi loved being a girl dad, but you really wanted to give him a son as well. A little boy, who would hopefully look like him, even though your daughters both had their father’s hair and features. When anybody, who knew Levi looked at his kids, it was immediately obvious, that they were very closely related. And you loved this fact so much. You loved seeing your husband in those two little miracles the both of you created together.

„So that’s why you had such trouble getting into the saddle earlier? Or why you didn’t want the Yeagerists to touch you at all?“

You nodded, caressing your belly. About two weeks back, you finally felt the baby start kicking for the first time. Even now, during your third pregnancy, it was something magical. „Didn’t want them to accidentally see or touch my belly.“ Your loose black dress with a colorful long vest hid your pregnancy pretty well. But you still had to be careful not to draw much attention to your abdomen.

„I’m so sorry you got caught up in this situation. Now even more.“

„It is what it is,“ you said and looked over at Levi again. He was still unconscious, but at least he didn’t hear you talk to Hange. This was not the moment you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him. „I just hope all of this ends soon.“

Deep down in your heart, you knew Levi will be okay again. He had to be. He was your husband, after all. He had a family that needed him back home. Your girls needed their dad, who they loved and absolutely adored every waking hour of every day. He truly was their hero. And not because he was Humanity's strongest. But only because of how much he loved them and cared about everything that regarded his two precious little angels.

You knew very well Levi wasn’t just a cold and grumpy soldier. Not when he was with you. But seeing him become a father was something completely different. He even cried, when your first daughter was born. And he was just as emotional, happy, and grateful when your second daughter was born almost three years later.

„Not to sound grim, but I don’t think we’ll know peace in the near future,“ Hange said, stood up, and went over to Levi to check on him.

You worried about him to the point that you felt physically sick. Maybe because it was such a rarity to see him hurt. He came back unharmed even from the worst expeditions. And now here he was – completely dependent on your and Hange’s help.

And it was one of the worst feelings ever. Knowing how close to death he really was. Seeing him hurt and all bandaged up, while you sat just a couple of steps away with your third baby on the way. Thinking about Levi never knowing about the baby... about never seeing him or her...

A quiet sob escaped your mouth before you could press your hand to your mouth. Hange immediately turned around and looked you over with great concern. You really never felt so much fear and pain all at once. So much despair.

„I’m fine,“ you got out and tried to take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself. Hange seemed pretty out of place when they saw your tears. From experience you knew, that they weren’t the best when it came to comforting a crying person. „It’s just...“

„Yeah, I know,“ Hange said and smoothed Levi’s hair down a bit. If he was awake, he would probably frown at them and pull away. But not now. „But try not to stress yourself too much, please. You have to be extra careful.“

Hange seemed way more tense than before you told them about your pregnancy. And that was understandable. They were the Commander and the person in charge now. You telling them about your pregnancy just put extra weight on their shoulders. Now they needed to look after Levi, you, and even your unborn baby.

„I’ll get you home, don’t worry,“ Hange said after a minute and came to sit back down next to you, wrapping their arm around your shoulders. „And I’ll keep Levi safe for you and your kids. I promise.“

You gave them a weak smile, leaning your head against theirs. This was a really bad time for crying, but you were an emotional mess during every pregnancy. Not to say in a situation like this, when death was lurking dangerously close.

The bright morning sun was shining right on the bed, where you were slowly waking up from another long and almost sleepless night. You almost forgot how it felt to have a newborn, who woke up many times and needed attention. Not to mention your other two kids waking up as well because they still weren’t used to their new home.

The Rumbling happened almost half a year ago, and the world was still upside down from all the consequences. You still remembered the day Paradis started shaking as the Wall Titans followed Eren on his mission to destroy all your enemies. When you parted from Hange and Levi, to return back home, you found your parents and daughters out on the porch of the farmhouse, watching the Titans in horror. The girls were crying like never before. And there was nothing you could do to calm them down and assure them, that you’ll all be alright. They cried for their dad and kept asking you when he was coming home to protect them.

And you had no idea.

When you kissed Levi goodbye, you couldn’t be sure you’ll ever see him again. For many weeks, you didn’t know what happened to him or the others. And for an even longer time, there was no way for you and your family to get to Levi. You spent countless amount of nights crying and worrying, which ended up causing preterm labor.

But despite that, everything turned out okay. Your baby was healthy and beautiful, and you recovered even faster than when you gave birth for the first and second time. Before you knew it, you were back home with your girls, who were in awe when they first saw their new sibling.

Even after your baby’s birth, it took another almost two months, until you got a chance to leave Paradis and travel to the place where Levi was staying and recovering. It was the Azumabito family, who helped you get to your husband. It all happened so fast. You and your parents had to pack up the kids and your whole lives in a couple of days and leave Paradis... probably for good.

And that was maybe for the best. After everything, many people, who knew you were Levi’s wife, acted harshly toward you. A lot of things in your homeland changed and not necessarily for the best. So leaving and starting over was probably a smart idea. Your kids deserved a much better life, with nicer people surrounding them.

Most importantly... they needed their father, just like you needed your husband.

Traveling across the ocean and finding a way to cross the burned lands which the Wall Titans and Eren left behind, took a toll on your whole family – your elderly parents, two spooked-out kids, and a still fragile newborn. And on you, too. Physically and also emotionally.

But in the end, it was all so worth it. When you saw Levi after many long months... an unimaginable wave of relief and happiness washed over you, making your eyes water almost immediately. And when your girls ran up to him, not minding even a tiny bit, that their father looked much different, your heart almost burst from love and gratitude. They didn’t mind his new scars, his blind eye, or the wheelchair he needed because of his leg. All they saw, was the father they adored and loved more than anybody else. They exchanged many hugs and kisses. Levi sat them both onto his lap, wrapping his arms around them and holding them close, whispering how much he missed and loved them.

Levi knew, that you and the girls were coming. He was happy to see your parents, too. The biggest shock for him was the roughly two months old newborn baby in your arms. Nobody except your late friend, who you still missed very dearly, knew, that you were pregnant. And it seemed that Hange didn’t tell Levi. So when he saw the tiny black-haired Ackerman baby, who was looking at him with bright blue eyes in complete amazement, he wasn’t able to say anything. Until the girls started telling him everything about their new sibling, who they loved greatly.

„Oh... good morning. What did I miss?“ you asked, when you finally found your whole family – out on the porch, enjoying a beautiful colorful sunrise. When you didn’t find Levi or the girls in their beds, it was obvious, that they were somewhere outside, having a peaceful and quiet morning.

„You came just in time, the sun’s coming up shortly,“ Levi said in a hushed voice. The baby, your third daughter, was peacefully asleep in his arms, while your four-year-old was sitting on his lap and hugging him, also half-asleep. Your oldest daughter was sitting on the porch right next to Levi’s wheelchair and was holding his hand – the one, which was missing two fingers.

Seeing them content and peaceful like this, made your eyes well up with tears almost immediately. You were all still adjusting to your new life and for the most parts, it wasn’t easy. That’s why moments like these helped you more than you would be ever able to express and explain.

You loved watching Levi with his girls. All the love between them was so pure and innocent. It was very precious to you and Levi as well. He had so many doubts about becoming a father. And they were all pointless, because the second your first daughter was born, he was already a natural. Always tending to his daughter’s needs and doing everything in his power, to give all of them everything he didn’t have growing up.

„The girls came into our room and since I couldn’t sleep anymore, I took them outside so you could rest a bit more. It was a rough night,“ Levi said, looking down at the sleeping baby.

„I love the newborn phase, because they are so tiny and adorable, and you are getting to know them for the very first time, but that constant waking up in the night...“

With a chuckle, you kissed all of them on top of their heads and sat down on the other side of Levi’s wheelchair, crossing your legs. The air was a bit crisp, a thin layer of fog was hovering between the trees of the forest behind the small house you lived in now.

„I think we should enjoy it because it’s probably the last time we are experiencing this phase.“

„Is it?“ Levi teased you.

You raised your eyebrows. „Would you like another baby?“

„You wouldn’t?“

„I would like another sibling,“ your seven-year-old said enthusiastically. She was a big help when you brought the baby home from the hospital for the first time. It was almost as if she knew, somebody had to take Levi’s place. „Maybe a baby brother for a change.“

„You know we can’t influence that, honey,“ you said with a smile.

„Maybe we could try... somehow...“ Levi suggested playfully, winking at you with his healthy eye. „After a couple of years, that is. No need to hurry. We need to properly settle down first.“

„And open your tea shop,“ you said excitedly, reaching your hand towards Levi and stroking his arm. „After many years, we can finally turn that dream into reality.“

„With me being like this?“ Levi asked in a much colder tone, looking down at you with a grim expression. But before your eyes met, he looked away and instead kissed both of his sleeping daughters. „Don’t think that would work out.“

„Why do you think that?“ He shrugged, almost as if he didn’t want to tell you what he really meant. Maybe because the girls was here. Or maybe because you already knew too well.

You and he already had some pretty harsh and painful conversations. They were all pretty similar – all of them ended in tears. Sometimes only Levi’s or only yours. Other times you cried both. For many minutes, even hours. In the middle of the night, or even during the day, when the girls weren’t around. Levi was still hurting – mentally and physically as well. And some days, the pain and sorrow got the best of him. He cursed, screamed, and cried. He even wished for death.

That’s how much he hated the current version of himself. He despised looking into a mirror – even now, many months after all of his injuries happened. Most of them were healed by now, but that didn’t make a big difference to him. Not even your words and tears could make him hate himself less.

„Nobody said, you would have to run the shop alone, darling. It can be a little family business. Bet my parents would love to help out, mom has a lot of experience when it comes to dealing with customers.“

Everybody on the farmer’s market back at Trost loved her – buying fruits, vegetables, homemade erb soaps, or any other good stuff from her, or just stopping by for a quick chat. With her cheerful personality, she was able to charm everybody. And probably would be no difference here. Or at least you hoped.

„And dad is already grumpy because he has nothing to do here. He really misses the farm and all the work around there.“

„I miss the farm too,“ your seven-year-old said. „All the animals and growing plants. The flowers we used to plant with grandma each year. It’s a shame we had to leave, I loved it there.“

„We can build something similar here as well,“ you said to her, trying to sound hopeful. But deep down in your heart you knew, that nothing would ever be the same. Having hope was a nice and necessary thing, but it wasn’t enough.

„Nobody said we have to stay. If we don’t like it, we can just pack up all our stuff and leave,“ Levi said suddenly, once again sounding a bit more cheerful. It was all just a pretense, you knew it. But appreciated his effort anyway.

All you could do was nod in agreement. But after that, watching the rest of the sunrise in silence was the best possible choice. A moment of quiet and peace was necessary for all of you. Just a moment of sitting down and enjoying something so simple and yet beautiful. Something, that always gave you hope, that the new day would be much better than the previous one.

Just after breakfast, your parents came over and took two of your oldest daughters for a fun day in the town. The house got quiet when you took care of the baby and settled her down into the crib. Instead of preparing lunch for you and Levi, you and he ended up outside on the porch again.

„Sorry I talked like that in front of the girls.“

„It’s fine, you didn’t say anything wrong,“ you assured him, pulling up a chair next to him and reaching for his hand. „I know it’s hard. For all of us. But we have to keep trying, Levi. We have to keep going for our family.“

Moving away from Paradis and starting over in a foreign country wasn’t even close to being easy. Not even you felt comfortable and content with your new life. But you had to try. You simply had to. For your parents and daughters, but mostly for Levi. You wanted to be his everyday dose of motivation and the reason he kept smiling from time to time.

And above all... you had to be strong for yourself. You were just as important as everybody else in your life. Because if you wouldn’t be able to function, everything else would start to fall apart as well.

„I’m tired, Y/N. Exhausted, worn out...“ You squeezed his hand, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. „I’m still angry with myself for not being able to function like before. For not being able to be the father, husband, and son-in-law all of you need.“

„Levi, you’re everything and much more, than all of us need. You’re still the same person I fell in love with. You may not look the same, but that’s not important to me. It never was.“ His quiet chuckle surprised you. But also warmed your heart and gave you hope. „And if you want to know... I still find you very handsome.“

„Well, am I a lucky guy?“

„Definitely.“ You nodded, leaning closer to him and hugging him around his right arm tightly, but gently at the same time. „I love you, and I always will. No injury can change that, Levi. You will always be the love of my life. The only one I want to share my life with. The one, who I know loves me back just as much.“

„Not just as much... but even more,“ he corrected you, the tone of his voice sounding warm and loving. „I know I’m blessed to have a wife like you and a precious family. Many people died so we could sit here like this and talk.“ He stopped for a second, taking a couple of deep breaths to hide how his voice was starting to break once again. Since you came here and reunited with Levi, you have seen and heard him cry more times than throughout your entire relationship. And it kept breaking your heart over and over again. „Despite that, I can’t seem to find the way out of the darkness. It keeps following me everywhere.“

„Because you keep being too hard on yourself. You still think, that being a soldier or a weapon for someone in power, is what made you matter. But we both know that’s not the truth. You’re perfect as you are... here in this moment. You don’t need to be Humanity's strongest soldier to feel important, admired, and loved. It’s enough for you to just be... Levi.“ You knew he longed for the power and all the abilities he once had. He wanted to feel like his old self so badly, that he kept forgetting what was truly important. „You changed and there’s nothing wrong with that. In here,“ you said and placed your palm over his heart gently, „you are still the same person I love and admire. I traveled across the world, which was almost burned to ash just to be with you again. And I’ll never regret that.“

You told him similar words many times before. But that was pointless, you would repeat yourself as many times as he needed to hear it, hoping he would take something away from them.

„You are still you, Levi.“

„But is that enough for you, Y/N? In this state, I can’t give you the life you and our girls deserve.“

„I don’t expect you to give me anything. All I need, is your presence in my life and in the life of our girls,“ you said, leaning closer to him and kissing his cheek. „If I had to, I would carry this on my own. But I really, really don’t want to. I want to share everything with you, just like before. The good and the bad as well.“

„I know you could do this all on your own. You did it for the last couple of months, and you did brilliantly. Enduring an entire pregnancy without me even knowing, giving birth, and traveling with three kids across this forsaken world just to... find me again... I...“

„I did it for us, darling. For our family, our future.“

It was hard and even traumatic in some ways. But all of that was over now, everything was okay again. Levi was right there beside you, and your family was complete once more. Nothing was perfect, and it never will be. Finding true happiness was always difficult, and in this new world, it seemed close to impossible. At least for now. Many things were changing for you and for the whole world as well. So it was probably normal to feel this way.

„And I would do it all over again if I had to,“ you added in a reassuring tone, holding Levi’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

„I know you would. That’s why I love you.“

Before you could say anything back, both of you heard a faint cry from inside the house. With a quick kiss, you left Levi outside and hurried after your baby. All it took, was a diaper change and a few kisses before you could return to Levi, your youngest daughter once again contently resting in your arms.

She was a carbon copy of her father, just like her older sisters. With Levi’s silky black hair and his adorable nose, she was a true Ackerman. And Levi was all about that, just like when he saw all of the girls for the very first time.

„Everything okay?“ Levi asked, reaching for his daughter immediately.

You nodded with a smile, carefully handing him the baby. It looked like she became immediately happier when Levi cradled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. She cooed quietly, looking up at her father with eyes wide open. Almost as if she was seeing him for the very first time.

Levi’s touch and voice always calmed the kids down. His mere presence was enough for them to feel safe and loved. They missed him very dearly every time he went on an expedition or had a lot of work to do. Sometimes, the girls even waited for him to come home from the HQ, just to see him for a couple of minutes or get a goodnight kiss from him.

„She’s so precious,“ he whispered, kissing the baby’s hair once more and offering her one of his fingers to hold. „To think I almost didn’t get the chance to meet her...“

„No, stop! Don’t talk like that, please.“ He wanted to say something but decided to stay quiet and instead whisper to the baby how much he loved her. „You know... this is when I find you the most irresistible.“

„Crippled?“ he smirked.

„Levi!“ you scolded him and hit his shoulder playfully.

When you heard him laugh a new spark of hope flared up in your heart. Maybe everything could be okay once again. Not today or tomorrow, but eventually. You both had something very precious to fight for and keep trying. You went through so many challenging things together and apart as well. But love always helped you find your way back to one another.

„I’m glad I have you all,“ he said after a while, his eyes still glued to his daughter, who was carefully watching his face. „My irreplaceable Ackerman girls.“ With a tiny smile, he leaned over to you and gently grabbed your chin. „I’ll keep fighting for you all. With everything I have left. I can promise you that, Y/N.“

„Only if you let us fight for you... my irreplaceable Ackerman,“ you teased him, before brushing your lips against his in a long and loved-filled kiss, which said more than a hundred words ever could.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #dad!levi #hange zoe #aot x reader #aot x you #attak on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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stusbunker · 3 months

Text

Spotless: Hook

Chapter Twelve

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Charlie, Meg, many more mentioned

Word Count: 2229

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean took another sip of his coffee, the plastic lid as familiar a sensation against his lips as the warmth of the liquid flowing through it. Meg had rolled her eyes at his cup the second he arrived, but hadn’t voiced her precise annoyance about the chain coffee company, which Dean considered a small victory. They sat at a small table next to the booth where you and Charlie were camped out with your laptops and phones out, listening while you both worked. Dean appreciated the support and even supervision more than he would ever say. Especially when Meg started grilling him.

“Okay, fine, we won’t talk about ol’ blue eyes himself. Tell me about the new member of the band— Kevin Tran?”

“Kev is great— super smart and really bringing a new edge to the keys on our upcoming album,” Dean said, nodding, a small smirk on his lips because he knew Meg wanted more than that.

“And when should we expect to see this yet-to-be-named album?”

“If everything else goes as well as recording it did, it’s looking like a spring release,” Dean knew he sounded like a corporate stooge.

“You’re touring before the album is released, in this day and age that’s a bit naive, if not reckless,” Meg prodded.

“Well, we’ve got a lot of material to work with, besides, a lot of these folks are coming out to see the last album anyway,” Dean leveled his glare at her heart-shaped face, anticipating the dark glint in her big eyes.

Dean didn’t do interviews. He didn’t like stirring shit for public consumption. He would sit in a room and talk music with somebody, hell, anybody, all day long if he could. But being under the microscope was something he’d just learned to really do on himself, from Missouri. And once he’d cried in her office all those months ago, he knew he’d never get that wall back up. Wouldn’t really even bother rebuilding it because he now knew it was a prison, a self-inflicted cage.

But this wasn’t therapy and Meg wasn’t Missouri.

Luckily, Dean could read her as well as she could read him. And he knew she was dangerous.

Meg took the bait, “so, the plan is to make up for all those shows that you canceled— all the fans you let down.”

Dean nodded. “If we can.”

“And what happens if you just disappoint them all over again?” Meg pressed.

Dean shook his head, “can’t think like that. We just go out there and do what we love and let the music speak for itself.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to get on stage again. You’ve got to face them and show them you’ve still got it.”

Dean knew she was right, but he also knew a lot of things she didn’t. About hours in the studio and time spent one-on-one with each member of the band. About Kevin’s audition tapes and phone calls and hours of sitting in the den just letting the strings of his guitar knit pieces of himself back together. Confessions and penance might seem like trite concepts amongst musicians, people who do everything loudly for seemingly selfish purposes. But Dean had lived through it and he knew they were stronger for what they’d overcome.

No one else was leaving.

“Once we’re up there, they won’t have to worry about that. Trust me,” Dean said and took the final sip from his coffee.

Meg quirked an eyebrow and watched him as the server brought them their entrees. She shifted her phone where it was openly recording their conversation and her tablet where she had jotted down notes that Dean pretended not to read about his posture and his “faux confidence”.

He took a bite out of his sandwich and waited for the next line of questioning, the next stage of battle.

She delicately nibbled at a fry as she continued to look for an opening.

“Tell me about Bela, Dean. You two have created quite the stir online,” Meg was better than the obvious, so he knew she was trying to get him prickly. It was a diversion and they both knew it.

“What do you wanna know?” Dean didn’t act fazed, taking another obnoxiously large bite that would have earned him a bitchface from Sam.

“How’d you meet?”

Dean took his time chewing. Meg smirked, waiting oh-so-patiently.

“Mutual friend.”

“Fascinating.”

“Not really. Why? How do you usually meet people?”

“Tinder,” Meg replied quickly.

“Yeah, not really my scene.” Dean had never even installed the app, or any hookup app, though he knew people used them as often as they used Uber.

“But you seem to hit the jackpot all on your own. Didn’t you? She’s gorgeous,” Meg was really trying for something, Dean couldn’t say what though.

“She’s a lot more than that, but yeah, I am pretty lucky,” Dean wasn’t selling Bela out, no matter how much this she-demon wanted him to.

“Don’t sell yourself short there, Dean-o. I mean she’s a D-list celebrity no one even remembered until she showed up with you on her arm. She seems to be making out well in this scenario as well,” Meg goaded.

Dean huffed and took another bite.

“Not going to deny that one, huh?”

Dean swallowed and wiped the mayonnaise off his mouth. “No, wasn’t going to validate it with a response. But obviously you play dirty. Look, if I cared about any of that crap I would be with some Botox’d bimbo who uses followers as a way to justify their existence. Or to sell something. Bela’s not like that, she cares about people. And she really has no use for any sort of celebrity ranking system.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as me,” Meg batted back.

“Whatever, lady, believe me or not, but say what you want about me. She doesn’t deserve your bullshit,” Dean growled. He could feel you inching towards him from your perch on the booth's bench, you were his back up, but he really didn’t want it to come to that.

“Fine,” Meg snipped. “What does she even see in you, Dean?”

Dean sighed and looked around the diner before putting back on his company smile. “You’d have to ask her yourself.”

That lit her up. “Maybe I will.”

Dean shrugged and started in on the second half of his lunch. “Go for it.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Dean knew he’d won that round, especially when he heard Charlie and you start up your own separate conversation.

Meg scrolled through her tablet, while Dean continued to eat. It wasn’t the worst forced socialization he’d lived through, but it wasn’t over yet.

“Look, I was hoping we’d come to this topic more organically, but you are surprisingly stubborn, so I’m just going to put this out there: who is Cain Charles?” Meg swung for the fences.

Dean swallowed and then looked at Charlie, praying she’d look up from her laptop and reassure him. He wouldn’t look at you, that would be too much of a giveaway.

“He owns a chain of boxing gyms in Vegas,” Dean went with the more palatable answer.

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Dean. I can’t do anything with what you’ve given me so far. Your publicist wants me to write a puff piece about all of your progress since your very public meltdown on your last tour. And frankly all of this smells like a very blatant cover up. I know you spent all of your free time at those gyms for almost an entire year. I know that you lost a bandmate in the middle of an otherwise successful tour. And I know you are not the squeaky clean arm candy to one of LA’s biggest philanthropists. So, tell me, one former piece of trailer trash to another. Who is Cain Charles to you?”

Dean wanted to get up and leave. He wanted to stuff Meg’s uneaten tuna melt into her smug face and tell her to get a real job. But mostly, he wished he had never agreed to this stupid deal with the label and just be a fucking musician like he was born to be. But he had made his bed, now he had to lie in it and let Meg dissect the pattern of the comforter and psychoanalyze the amount of pillows he clung to.

“You are seriously deranged, I hope you know that.”

“Takes one to know one,” Meg purred.

Dean couldn’t open that chapter of his life without it all coming out to hurt everyone in his orbit, Sam, the band, hell, even you. Everyone knew Cain was the start of Dean’s descent into that dark, rage filled hole, but they didn’t know everything. No one did, unless he told them.

Even Meg wasn’t that good.

“He tried to recruit me to do some celebrity bouts for charity, but I turned him down. I liked his facilities, but I didn’t want to ruin my pretty face, especially not on PayPerView.”

“You box?”

“It’s a good workout, plus it comes pretty naturally to us that had to fight for what we have.”

“Rough childhood, Dean?”

“Takes one to know one,” Dean tossed back at her.

Meg straightened in her chair. “Your dad was also a musician.”

“Is. He’s not dead.”

“That’s right, he lives in Nebraska. Big rock scene out in the plains, then?”

“Dad is more of a blues guy, but he doesn’t tour anymore.”

“He’s got two successful sons taking care of him, makes sense.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “He’s got a nine-to-five, smart ass. And a wife and another son to worry about. Sometimes you’ve got to settle down.”

“But he didn’t do that until you were already in high school, did he?”

“So?”

“So, must have been hard having him gone so much.”

“It’s the life, and it couldn’t have been so bad—- me and Sammy both followed in his footsteps.”

Meg finally took a bite of her lunch. “Yeah, but you don’t have kids, right?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope.”

“Do you want them?”

Dean put his soda down and balked. “I don’t know! What the hell kind of question is that?”

“Normal conversation, man, calm down,” Meg said out of the side of her very full mouth.

Dean rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, lamenting running out of coffee already. He was going to have to make Charlie stop for another round before he and Sam hit the road.

“So, what, Daddy Winchester just decided one day that he liked the white picket fence more than the open road?”

Dean glared at the reporter, because she knew precisely why John stopped touring, but she was going to make Dean say it anyway.

“You really are a sadist aren’t you?”

Meg nodded. “It’s a gift.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Mom died in 97, Dad had to hang up his ax.”

“So the wife and son?”

“He got remarried,” Dean said flatly.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t until—what? 2004? Kid’s pushing twenty.”

“You leave Adam out of this.”

“Just saying, if my dad came home with a side piece and her brat out of nowhere. I wouldn’t stick around to watch them play happy family.”

“It wasn’t like that— we were always gonna play together. Sam and me have been playing since before we could read. It’s in our blood. It’s not just some great escape or whatever story you’re trying to spin—- Besides, if you had really done your research, you would have known the band formed in 2000.”

“Oh, I know. You, Cas who-shall-not-be-named, Lee, and Sammy all were really hardcore back then.” Meg turned her tablet around to show him a picture taken at the Roadhouse, all of them were drenched in sweat from their set. He remembered that night, Ellen had let them play as long as they were out by ten so she would still get some regular bar business after the underage audience went home.

Cas on drums had never felt right, but it was another two years before Pam found them. Dean couldn’t stop staring at the kids they used to be.

“Missing the old days, huh?” Meg teased.

“Nah, but it’s fun to look back,” Dean admitted.

“Would the rest of the band agree?”

Dean frowned and really considered the question. Pam, obviously, ran things now. No matter how hard Dean fought to be the leader, if she wasn’t on board, it wasn’t happening. But that was a good thing, she kept him honest, kept them all honest. Sam seemed to like Kevin, even if he missed Cas almost as much as Dean did. And Lee, well, he just wanted to play. He’d be in a dive bar on every open mic night if Bobby’d let him.

“Yeah, we’ve come a long way from coffee shops and YMCAs. I think they’re all happy with what we’re doing now. This album wouldn’t have worked if everybody wasn’t one hundred percent in it.”

Dean looked up to see Meg looking at him like he was missing something obvious.

“What?”

“I think that was the first question where you were completely honest with me all day.”

Dean rolled his eyes and stole a fry off her plate, chomping down he asked, “what else you got?”

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Chapter 13: Canto

#spotless series #dean/reader #dean/bela #rockstar au #dean winchester fanfiction #fake dating #slow burn

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