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#do not remind me of rainy days i will simply sob
luv-fedya-archived · 1 year
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which one of you decided it was a good day to like my old fics
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always-andromeda · 2 years
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which dano do you think is most likely to dance in the rain with you ala drew barrymore? 🥰
Dancing in the Rain with Dano Characters | Dano!Characters x GN!Reader
Author’s Note | aHHHH THIS IDEA MAKES MY BRAIN LIGHT UP WITH JOY. I actually think a feeeeew characters would do this!! Also lowkey had to make this like a little bit of an actual post because that video of Drew Barrymore actually makes me wanna sob and I wanted to do this concept justice instead of just giving like a paragraph answer!! I love Drew with all of my heart. 🥹
Warnings | Literally nothing! General tooth rotting fluff that I hope hits the spot!!
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✰ Calvin Weir-Fields ✰
Now we all know Calvin is a little persnickety. However, above all else, he’s a romantic. And what’s more romantic than dancing in the rain with a loved one? He finds comfort in these little moments with you. There's an immense intimacy and commitment that is communicated in the soft sound and the way you and him intertwine.
Calvin is definitely a slow dancer. Especially when there isn't any music to guide his rhythm. He just wants to hold you close to him, a hand on your hip and the other grasping one of your hands. He'll press a chaste kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his chest.
He gets way too cold though and is very eager to go back inside. He's shivering like a hairless cat and struggling to find something dry enough to clean the water off his glasses but he looks forward to changing into warm clothes and cuddling on the couch with you. It's the type of day he could try writing about over and over again but he doesn't think he'll ever be able to capture your contented smile and the way his heart seems to glow like a furnace as you huddle into his body, searching for his warmth to bring you back from the frigid cold.
✰ Hank ✰
Hank would almost be too embarrassed to dance with you. He's far too afraid of making a fool out of himself. His clothes will get wet and you'll see how lanky he really is. Not that he believed that you believed he was corded with layers of muscle in the first place, but he liked having the protection of a good baggy jacket.
But you pay no mind to his body. To the limbs he thinks are too long, too skinny, and too brittle boned or the way he seems to hunch over, already trying to minimize himself. For some reason, the way you look at him puts him at ease. Because when your eyes graze over his figure--collared shirt sticking to his torso and wet hair clinging to his forehead--your eyes are just as clouded as the stormy sky.
This is what being human is, he concludes. Having someone who looks at him for all of the awkwardness and anxiety he's encased in and can slowly peel away the layers. You slowly strip back those worries until his soul is bare and there's nothing left that he could possibly think to hide from you. Even if there was some residual ugliness buried inside him, he couldn't care less. You'd hold onto those parts too and you'd make him believe that he could be lovely.
✰ Pierre Bezukhov ✰
Pierre would drag you outside if you didn't get to him first. He despises the idea of staying locked inside, simply watching the rain roll down the windows of his manor. The soft pattering doesn't provide him too much comfort. Instead, it reminds of the suffocating silence and boredom that came with loneliness. The loneliness he suffered from before he found you. Now, he tries to find beauty in rainy days.
If he hears rain lightly falling as he wakes up in the morning, he'll rouse you from your own slumber and make you follow him out into the yard. Both still clad in bedclothes, they quickly become drenched in the downpour and cling to your figures as Pierre spins you around and laughs. To be able to live with you on such a beautiful earth is a privilege. How could he hold back those beautiful, joyous laughs as he experiences one of the most beautiful sights that life could offer him?
When you begin to shiver and he sees the outline of your body through your soaked nightgown, he'll simply wrap his robe around you to protect your modesty from the servants. You both pass them, giggling and holding onto each other's arms as you try not to slip on the marble floors. They sigh at your antics, knowing they'll have to mop up the water that trails the halls all the way back to yours and his bedroom.
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I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂
can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction
part 1
Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.
"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."
Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.
He had to end this.
When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.
Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.
"You really had to bring him here?"
You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"
On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?
No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.
"Namjoon..."
That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.
"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"
"No. I can't. Too busy."
The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."
And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.
"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.
"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"
The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."
He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.
And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"
"Dad..."
"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"
"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.
He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."
"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.
"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.
"My parents don't knock."
You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.
“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”
Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”
“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”
“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”
The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.
“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.
Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.
“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”
He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”
Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.
“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”
“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”
He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.
“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”
His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”
Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.
“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.
Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”
His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.
“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.
Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”
“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”
Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.
Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”
“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”
Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.
“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.
A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.
You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.
“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.
“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”
You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.
Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”
In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”
He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.
Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…
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bibbykins · 3 years
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Rocking Chairs and Rocking Cars
A/N: No full blown smut here, but ofc horny thoughts remain! I should be posting the aftermath texts and what not soon, but I hope you enjoy this in the mean time! It’s a bit rushed, but I hope that doesn’t ruin the experience for you! As always, tips are appreciated since I am saving up to buy a house with my gf, but ofc tips are not required! Hope you all have a great day/night!
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Note: This is a drabble for The Household’s Bunny Series
Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader x Soft Yandere! Hoseok
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: 18+, crying, lonliness, body image issues, unhealthy workout habits, abandonment, allusions to body dysmorphia, mommy issues, grinding, lustful thoughts, mentions of cumming, mentions of erections, pussy cupping (?), not rlly yandere although this is kinda a soft yandere series, obsessive behaviors, low self esteem, horrible communication, mentions of anxiety, mentions of car shaking
The house was quiet, and somehow knowing that no one else was home made your floor feel that much more empty. Granted, none of the guys came up all that often. Ever the gentlemen, they actively tried not to intrude on your space. Although, you really wish they did on days like these. It was 10am on a Saturday morning, although the lack of natural light could fool anyone otherwise. The clouds were heavy in the sky, cradling the sunlight in a thick blanket of grey, squeezing themselves for all the water they have. The rain tapped on your window, almost mocking you, reminding you that water was the only company you had.
You debated texting to ask if anyone wanted to come home and have a movie night, or build a fort, or just simply sit next to you, but decided you would just be bothering them. You had that very intimate moment with Jin and Yoongi, and they had remained sweet with you, but you weren’t able to be intimate with them again yet. They had been busy and you had been deprived of the very addicting affection. You’re sure they would come to you if asked, but you didn’t want to be clingy. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy them by following them around like a puppy just because they made you cum. They hadn’t explicitly stated they liked you as anything more than a friend, and you never wanted to go through the embarrassment of assuming such a thing again.
With college almost done, you had nothing to distract you from the looming loneliness you feel sometimes, and it was exhausting. You grew up by yourself, and you swore that would change when you were older. You were determined to be surrounded by people who loved you as much as you loved them, and yet, here you were. You were laying on a couch, watching the rain fall, all by yourself in a 10 floor renovated motel, reaping the consequences of high hopes and naivety your child self didn’t understand. You were never good at making friends, not that your plump figure helped you with your social drawbacks either. Although you made peace with your lack of charisma in person and have made strides to loving your body, the loneliness never subsided for long. 
There were few things you loved more than talking to people and having them listen to you and vice versa, and yet it rarely happened. Maybe you had been spoiled by your seven housemates, so it was making this bout of loneliness that much worse. Since moving in, there was almost always someone home making noise or even talking to you. However, they all told you summer was their busy season, and boy, they weren’t kidding. You had caught mere glimpses of the boys this week, only communicating via text and post it notes. 
You pressed your eyes closed for a moment as you listened to the rain. You thought of your mom. Her cheeks were chubby like yours and you remember her crying when she figured your metabolism was the same as hers, and you couldn’t understand why she hated herself so much that she wanted you to be nothing like her. Your mother had always been beautiful in your opinion, and it was a shame she never saw herself, or you, in that way. You thought about forcing yourself to go to the gym with her for hours on end, just to be able to be next to her. You had always been desperate for her company, desperate to be liked by her. Part of you regrets putting your body through that, but then a part of you is happy you were able to spend time with her until she left. 
Ah, yes, the day she left. That’s exactly what you should be thinking about right now, on a rainy day, all by yourself. You cringed when you felt a tear get a little too close to your ear, wiping it away. You were shocked when you felt even more in its wake. You always felt really silly when you cried, but you figured you might as well let it happen if you're gonna be home alone on a rainy day, thinking of all the ways people avoided spending time with you while you tried even harder to spend time with them. Who's next? Jungyoon? The uncle who took you in just to admit drunkenly how much the sight of you upsets him three hours into your 17th birthday. Your dad? No. That's not wise.
You sighed. Maybe if you had learned better social cues when you were younger, you wouldn't be a college graduate with no friends to talk to.
It didn't take long for you to break into full on sobs. You stuck somewhere between angry at the people who didn't want to be with you and sad that they didn't want to. Childishly, you deemed it wasn't fair and all you could do was cry. You hadn't had a day like this in a while, but holy shit did it suck each time.
Eventually, you ceased your tears and were left a red and puffy mess, so you decided to go to the kitchen to depuff your face with some ice. Then the rest of your day could only go up from here. You had your cry, and even though the elevator was going down, your day would only go-
OH NO WHY IS IT STOPPING AT FLOOR 5?!
You couldn't even think of who it could be as you looked in the mirror at the corner of the elevator and wished to evaporate. You had obviously been crying, terribly. Nevermind you were in a cropped long sleeve, short shorts, and thigh highs, your eyes were red and a little puffy, your cheeks were clearly tear stained, and even your lips were swollen. You couldn't, "oh, it's allergies." Your way out of this one.
"I didn't know you were home, Hobi." You murmured.
"Yeah, I just popped in real quick to grab something before I go back to…" Hoseok's smile dropped the instant he saw your face. You didn't even have the chance to look away, but you tried to anyway. He gently gripped your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his, "Bunny, is everything okay?" 
You pressed your lips together before nodding, "Yeah, it's just…" You glanced at his face, surprised to see him clinging onto your every word, "Sometimes, I get lonely." You shrugged as his eyes widened, "I get to thinking about my mom and…" You made vague hand movements as you shrugged.
He thought for a moment, “Even though we all kind of grew up together, we never really treated each other like more than roommates, but you’re here now.” He pulled you into a tight hug and you gasped before relaxing into his embrace. You closed your eyes for a moment as you held him close to you, "We've all been really busy, I didn't even consider how lonely you would feel." He lamented and you shook your head.
"I'm a big girl, I can be alone." Your words were muffled in his shirt, "It's just a little crying-"
"But you don't have to be alone anymore, and I don't want you to cry, none of us do." He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, "Thinking about my mom used to really ruin my day, doesn't now, so don't worry, but that took time." You nodded, feeling tears creep in again.
"Thank you." You hummed as he pulled back, "Sorry to-"
He shushed you, putting his finger on your lips, shaking his head at your apology.He leaned his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch, "Do you want to go with me?"  He asked softly.
You blinked in confusion, "With you, where?"
His grin only widened and you looked to him skeptically, “Do you trust me?” He asked all too innocently and you nodded, “Then, do you want to go with me?” He asked again as he placed purple-tinted sunglasses on his face.
“I suppose…” You studied his smug face, “Let me go change-” You went to press the next floor so you could get off but were stopped with a soft grip from Hoseok.
“I’m in a bit of a rush, and you look great.” He smiled as the elevator reached the entrance.
You wanted to protest, but you let it be. Surely you would not stick out in the slightly scandalous outfit you were in.Truthfully, it was your body that seemed to make it scandalous to other people. Although, if you had a skirt on, it would just be a typical outfit for you, so maybe it wasn’t so weird? These thoughts ran through your mind as you slipped on some shoes and went into Hoseok’s very nice car. 
So are you gonna tell me where we’re going or…?” You asked as the renowned hair stylist drove with a smirk in response to your question, “Okay Mr. Mysterious, can I ask questions about it until we get there?” You asked cheekily.
He chuckled, “Of course, you can do whatever you want, baby.” His voice was silky smooth and the nickname shot straight to your nether regions and you scolded yourself for it.
“Are we going to a job of yours or am I just running errands with you?” You looked at his unwavering smile as you asked.
“A job, but the client will not mind if you’re there, before you ask.” He stole your next question by answering it smugly. You pursed your lips as you studied him. He was in a lavender dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and sleek navy blue slacks, all of which complimented his black hair. 
You, on the other hand, wore a baby pink turtleneck with the hem ending just barely above your matching form-fitting high-waisted fabric shorts, showing just a sliver of your stomach skin while a lot of your thigh skin was on display with white over-the knee socks. You had taken scandalous photos for your OnlyFans, and if you lifted your arms all the way up, a lacy bralette would greet the outside world. You were just feeling a bit self conscious considering the well dressed man in the car next to you. Sure, you looked cute, but was this level cute appropriate for his job? You didn’t want to make a bad impression and have that effect Hoseok.
“And here we are.” He sang and you snapped back to reality as he parked behind a building that had no defining qualities from the back. The ride went by in a flash and you pouted a bit at not even asking another question.
Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for you as he led you inside with him. The hallways were crowded with people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Judging by the bits of chatter you could pick up as you scurried behind Hoseok, this was a photography studio and a high-level star was having a photoshoot.
“Oh thank goodness you’re here!” A man that seemed to be in his late 30s sighed in relief when he saw Hoseok, “He is in the worst mood today, and I’m so frightened-who is that?” The man’s wild eyes fixated on you for the briefest of moments and he realized your puffy features and shook his head, “Whatever, just go in there and calm him-”
“This is our housemate, y/n, and the shoot isn’t for another 30 minutes and he just needs hair, right?” Hoseok spoke calmly in spite of the chaos surrounding the both of you as the man nodded, “Great, I just need to touch him up and we’ll calm him down in time to take some good photos.” The man nodded tiredly, “Is the dressing room empty now?”
“Yeah, he kicked everyone out so he could calm down, but that never works.” The man cried out helplessly, “Why is he so frightening?!” Hoseok simply patted the man before navigating the hallways. Frightening? The man shivering looked quite burly and tall, who could be scaring him so much?
The “we’ll” made you nervous, but you held Hoseok’s hand so you wouldn’t get lost until he pushed through a dressing room door, “Hobi’s here.” He chimed and you heard a man behind a partition grunt. You looked around the spacious room to see a comfy looking green L couch along with a wooden rocking chair, which you thought was interesting. Beyond that, there was the typically lavish amount of mirrors and counter space, “I also brought a surprise!” Hoseok sang and you were ripped from your observations.
“It better not be anything dumb-” Jungkook’s voice died on the impact that was emerging from the partition and seeing you. Hise eyes studied your body, namely the slight squish of skin between your socks and shorts, which made his pants feel a bit tight, “Y/n, what…”His voice trailed off when he noticed you had definitely been crying, and not long ago. Right as he was going to accuse Hoseok, he saw you let go of his hand and give him a smile, figuring it wasn’t him that made you upset.
Your eyes brightened when you saw a familiar face, “Oh hi, Kook!” You beamed, “I didn’t realize Hoseok was taking me with him to see you, how nice!” You cheered, “I’ll be out of your way while you work, though!” You went to go sit on the couch as Jungkook nodded, robotically making his way to the chair in front of the mirror. He wore a silky black shirt with a harness around his waist and black slacks with razor thin pinstripes and black dress shoes. His hair was styled mostly to perfection, making you wonder what more there was to do. Alas, you weren’t the professional.
Hoseok looked to the younger man with a smug smile, “Just some last touches need to be done and then you can calm your nerves a bit with our little bunny.” He chided and Jungkook scoffed.
It took no more than five minutes for Hoseok to style the star’s hair into further perfection, “Wow, you look super handsome, Kook!” You cheered, earning a small smile from the man in question.
Hoseo chuckled, “He does indeed.” He cooed, making the younger man scowl, “Now, you have some time to zen out with bunny, use it wisely. I’ll come get you when it’s time.” He patted Jungkook before giving you a wink and exiting the room.
“You having a bad day-”
‘Were you crying?” His voice sliced through yours and you’re taken aback for a moment. With no response, he stood, making his way over to you. He towered over you before leaning down to grip your chin lightly, “Were you?” A hint of worry flashes across his eyes, and you wondered if you were just seeing things.
“Yeah… I was just feeling lonely.” You speak honestly, shrugging, “It’s not a big deal-”
“Why didn’t you call me-or anyone?” He asked, voice rushed as his eyes searched your face for an answer. It’s like an interrogation that you don’t have comprehensive answers for, so you shrug.
“Everyone was busy.” You murmur, “I only cried because I thought about my mom and stuff, it’s okay.” You avoided eye contact with him as you said this, feeling out of your element talking about your mom. This made his mouth part, but he haid no words. He understood what you meant, and that made it all the more harder to comfort you.
Jungkook sighed at how you’ve shrunk under his barrage of questions and sinks down to his knees, his hands going to your waist, stroking the sliver of exposed skin, “Nobody was mean to you, right? You didn’t cry because anyone bothered you?” You smiled at his tenderness before nodding.
You watched his face, studying the cleverly concealed dark circles under his eyes and gave him a sad smile, “Are you having a bad day too, Kook?” You asked softly and he sighed, like he was letting himself relax for the first time before nodding, “I see..” You thought for a moment, unsure how to make him feel better until you remembered, “Did you want to touch my thighs?” You said the first thing that came to mind and before you could be embarrassed, he nodded, "Okay, how do you want me?"
What a question, Jungkook thought, smiling tiredly, "Sit in my lap?" He looked up at you hopefully and you nodded.
"I won't be too heavy or anyth-woah!" You gasped when he lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the rocking chair, sitting you both down, "I stand corrected." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands placed themselves on your thighs.
He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling your thighs in his hands, rocking you both back and forth. In every dressing room, he required a rocking chair, in case he needed to calm down. He debuted at the ripe age of 15 and with no guardian until 17, he was prone to panic attacks. The company sent him to therapy and the rocking chair was introduced. He never let anyone touch the chair, but he couldn't deny how nice it was having you in his arms, cradling his head into your bosom. 
“I like the rocking chair, very calming.” You mused, as if reading his mind and he offered a tired hum in agreement.
The day had truly been terrible. Stage after stage, minimal hours of sleep, and stupid people asking the same stupid question. And yet, here you were, hands stroking the skin on his neck as he lost himself in your form. Your thighs were softer than he anticipated, and he felt himself let out an exhausted sigh, finally relaxing into you.
"You haven't been home a lot, so I get why you're so stressed." You mused into his hair, "But you should go a bit easy on the staff, I just saw a buff thirty-something year old near tears when we came in." You giggled and Jungkook couldn't help but laugh a bit.
"Sungmin is my manager, he can take it." He felt blissful for the first time in a while as he rocked you both back and forth, his thumbs stroking the supple skin of your thighs.
"Still, maybe if people aren't so stressed around you, it might ease your stress." You chided softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his head.
The affection made his eyes flutter closed and he hummed, "We'll see, but don't hold your breath." He joked.
You had never felt Jungkook so calm before. Usually he has something snarky or detached to say. Some kind of non committal or indifferent comment, but he was too exhausted to do even that. You smiled softly at the cozyoment and the affection. It was hard to realize how touch starved you were, dreading when you would have to get up.
Youboth rocked back and forth for an indeterminate amount of time, too wrapped up in the calmness of each other’s presence to say much at all.
Finally, you spoke up a bit, "This is making me feel better. I like the closeness a lot." You hummed softly, "I remember when I was in some club in highschool, we were taking photos with girls on the guys's backs and all the guys scrambled to not have to give me a piggyback ride, so I just stood on my own." You did a short laugh. Jungkook fumed at the idea of stupid people making you feel like anything less than perfect, but you continued, "And now I'm in the lap of a pop star, it's a little funny." Now he felt smug, giving your thigh a small squeeze.
"Sounds like you had some weak ass guys in your highschool club." He snorted, leaning his head up as you settled down onto his lap further, now looking eye to eye with your torsos farther apart, his feet planted firmly on the floor to keep the rocking chair still, "I'll deny I was ever this nice, but," He studies your face for a moment, "You're so beautiful." He sighs out and he watched your face light up, and feels what that does to him, scaring the fuck out of him.
You couldn't find words except, "Can I kiss you?" You breathe and he nods with hooded eyes, and before you knew it, you were surging forward to press his mouth to yours. The kiss was fierce, but he responded to it at the speed of light. His mouth moved in sync with yours before taking control of the kiss, moving closer as he stilled the chair. Your hands were shyly clutching his shoulders, careful not to mess up his hair. One hand traveled to your hip as the other massaged your thigh deeply, thumb inching its way to the inner part. Your tongues intertwine and you gasp needily when he's a mere centimeter from where you want him most. You damn near whine when his hand stops inching closer to your core making him grunt.
Jungkook nearly lost his mind when he feels your nails dig into his shoulder and your hips wiggle in the slightest. He wanted to tell you to just mess up his hair, fuck everything else, and just let him make you cum in his lap. He wants to feel what he’s doing to you, uninhibited. His hand cups your sex and you groan into his mouth. He smirks at how warm it is, how wet you must be from a little bit of kissing, and how wet you will-
KNOCK, KNOCK
You jump, effectively falling off of the chair, and onto the floor just as Hoseok walks in, "Hey Jungkookie, it is time to- Bunny?!" Before Jungkook can even reach out his hand, the older man is helping you up.
"I'm alright, just clumsy." You chuckle awkwardly, before turning to the celebrity, thanking the stars his makeup and hair aren't messed up, "Well, have a good photoshoot!" You beamed, "Let's go get some lunch, Hobi." You spoke rushedly as you took the man's hand, dragging him along.
"Oh, uh, bye!" Hoseok hollers to the dumbfounded Jungkook as he watched the dressing room door close, leaving him winded with a boner.
When you get in the car, your eyes are like saucers and Hoseok can't help his curiousity as he turns on the car. However he doesn’t push until you both are a little closer to home, but before he can even ask you grab his leg and stare at him with panicked eyes, "Fuckfuckfuckfuckwhatthefuckdid- AHHH!" You let out the quietest scream, before looking at him, "How do I go about life this stupid?" You seem to be genuinely asking and yet again, before he can ask, "I kissed Kook and I let him hold my pussy for a moment." You blurt out and Hoseok blinks for a moment. You look to him, waiting for him to freak out but he just shrugs.
"Well color me a bit envious." He muses, before tilting his head in confusion, “When you say he held you pussy-"
“He cupped it and I was gonna let him go further had you not walked in.” You looked to the man as he saw home in sight.
“Ah, I see.” He nods thoughtfully, “So were we wanting to pick something up for lunch or just order delivery, we could cook…?”  
You gaped at him, "Are you not gonna tell me how dumb that was?!" Hoseok shakes his head, "He probably hates me now!" You whined.
Hoseok sighs, "I promise, he doesn't." He reassured you, "Did he… kiss back?" He asks curiously.
"Yes, but I'm not sure what he meant by it." You murmured, "I’m really bad at gathering those kinds of clues. I kissed him because he called me beautiful and I didn't know how to respond and I-"
"You're beautiful." Hoseok interjects, "My turn, my turn!" He parks the car at the house, turning to you with a grin.
"Wait, that's it!" You point to him, "You can tell me what kind of kiss that was." You beamed and he looked at you quizzically, "So kiss me and I'll show you how Kook kissed back so I can understand!" 
Hoseok could not believe his ears. Had people played with your head before? Did you seriously not understand that kissing back meant that they were attracted to you, at the very least. Not wanting to take advantage of you he asked, "Are you sure? You can just describe it to me-"
You nodded, "I don’t want to misrepresent it with my words but I need to know what it meant, but if you feel weird about kissing me I get it-"
Hoseok was watching the chance slip away, so he pressed forward, placing his mouth on yours and groaned when you responded with a force, hand going to his thigh to try and mimic Jungkook's movement. Your tongue finds his way into your mouth and he can’t resist the opportunity to feel your tongue against his. His hand goes to the back of your neck to press his mouth into yours deeper. It was in no time you both forgot what you should be doing.
All you could focus on was how good the affection felt. How nice it was to have someone’s mouth on yours just as needily. You were used to sex and affection being out of convience. You were used to people seeing you willing and figuring, “Why not?” But Hoseok and Jungkook had kissed you with a certain force you had never known. Where Yoongi and JIn were soft, sweet,and comforting, they were urgent, needy, but rough.
Hoseok’s arms wrap around you, bring you into his lap and you feel his growing length beneath you. Against better judgement, you grind down, causing the both of you to gasp, “Fuck, baby.” He groans, gripping you to him harder. His leans down to kiss your jaw and reach your neck, making you press yourself further onto him with a choked moan when you feel him guide you hips as you set a steady pace grinding into him. You groan at the sensuality of hearing his voice riddled with lust and making the windows steamy and the expensive car rock.
“Hobi,” You moan out as he sucks a particular spot on your neck, “Feels good.” You whined, grinding yourself more desperately.
“It does, bunny?” He cooed into your neck, trying to shield his own rising arousal as you  grind onto it desperately. You nodded with a moan and found yourself wishing he would just strip you of your clothes and take you. You would love nothing more than to feel his hands around your neck as he pounded into you, your hips working as wildly as they were then with his hands on them, threatening to limit you, edging you closer, and closer, and-
HONK
You both jumped, not able to go far in the driver’s seat on top of Hoseok after accidentally honking his car horn. You take a moment to look at the position your in and clasp your hand over your mouth, "I did it again!" You whined, muffled by your palm, "What's wrong with me, I get I'm horny but AH!" You groaned from frustration, both sexually and emotionally. 
"Calm down, it's better than okay." The man beneath you strokes your hip soothingly, "I enjoyed it, and if Kook did any of that, he did too." He reassures you, "It's just some consensual kissing, we're all adults, it's okay."
You frown, "But you guys don't need me throwing myself onto you, that's not fair to you." It’s made people recoil from you, you want to say. You don’t want them to recoil from you, you couldn’t take it.
"Arguably, I do need you, in particular, throwing yourself onto me." Hoseok quipped and you rolled your eyes.
"Ha, Ha, very funny, but come on." You deadpan and it only makes him more confused. You don't know how to explain that the odds of a guy like him, or any of them, wanting you, specifically, and not just wanting affection are slim to none in your eyes, judging from past experience alone.
"What?" He asks and you shake your head.
"Ah, forget it." You shrug, "Nothing to fuss about, but sorry I nearly came in your lap-"
"Please do not apologize for something I wanted, almost happening." He groaned and you chuckled, shaking your head, genuinely not believing him, “In fact, I invite you to please hop back on.” He chuckled a bit, so you figured it was a joke. Surely he would be joking about wanting you sexually. 
"You're a funny guy, Hobi." You open the door and hop out, "Well I'm gonna go masturbate or something, and then maybe we can regroup for some lunch when I'm done?" You glance up at the flabbergasted man who nods numbly, too perplexed to even offer his services, "Okay, well thank you for the kiss and what not, the affection is always welcome!" You chirped, "I can give you kisses on the lips more often if you want like I do with Jin and Yoongi?" He nods again and you smile. You give him a chaste kiss on the lips before heading inside.
Hoseok blew out a breath as he sat in his car with a hard on. So the issue wasn't you not being attracted to them. The issue was you not believing they would be attracted to you. Somehow, that was harder for him to dissect, unsure how to prove that he would give you the world if you just mentioned an interest in having it. Not just him, but six other men. To you, kissing or sexual acts wasn't proof that he was attracted to you for being you instead of just another body. They all had to somehow prove you weren't being kissed because of convenience, but desire. All of them were too emotionally stunted up until now to already know how. Yoongi was right, this would be a lot of work. Work they all were willing to do.
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hercleverboy · 3 years
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the comfort of rain
spencer reid x reader
summary ↠ spencer reid is her soulmate, isn’t he?
category ↠ angst
warnings/includes ↠ heartbreak, unrequited love
word count ↠ 1.6k
“Do not bother holding on to that thing that does not want you. You cannot make it stay.” — Rupi Kaur
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Spencer Reid was her soulmate.
She was sure of it. The pair had been inseparable since she’d started working with the BAU four years prior, practically joined at the hip, never one without the other. 
He’d never fail to bring her breakfast on days filled with paperwork, when he knew she’d barely slept and craved nothing more than a banana muffin from the bakery down the road. He simply placed it on her desk with a warm smile, receiving a thankful one from her in return. 
Such a small gesture, but it meant the world to her. 
He would press little kisses to the crown of her head after they arrested an unsub, a small act of thankfulness that she was ultimately unharmed. An appreciation that she was okay, safe. 
For all intents and purposes, they were only best friends. Though she’d been helplessly in love with him for years, and she had an inkling he felt the same. She didn’t want to make assumptions, but then again she was the only person he ever really got up close and personal with. Sure, he’d hug the other team members too occasionally, but she didn’t see him holding Emily or JJ’s hands on the jet home after a case that ended badly. He didn’t give them countless book recommendations, or spend his evenings watching TV shows that she was in love with just so they’d have something else to talk about.
He always offered her his coat when it was cold, or when the rain began to fall heavily and she was only in her shirt and jeans (despite how he’d commented, as he looked up at the sky, that it was likely going to rain based on the colour of the clouds. She never listened to him.) 
One of his most treasured memories is the time they were hanging out at his place on a rare Saturday that they didn’t have to go into work for a case. They were watching some eight-part crime series on Netflix that she’d finally convinced him to watch with her, after her complaining about needing someone to talk about it with. The loud clap of thunder cracked through the sky, making her jump up from his couch in excitement, looking out the window as rain began to fall heavily from the grey clouds above. She looked out silently as the rain pattered, watching how people on the street below rushed to find shelter from the unexpected downpour. 
Spencer frowned, coming to stand behind her. 
“I love the rain.” She commented, noting his presence behind her. 
His frown deepened. “Why? It’s cold and wet and- gross.” 
She chuckled quietly at his comment. “You’re not wrong there, but I meant more that I love watching the rain. I like the way it sounds. The way it smells. It reminds me that I’m alive. It’s comforting.”
It was quiet for a little, the sound of the rain pinging harshly against the window. 
“Pluviophile.”
She turned back to him, speaking softly. “What?”
“Pluviophile. It refers to a person who loves the sound of the rain. They often find a sense of joy or peace of mind during rainy days.”
She bit her lip to stifle her smile and turned back to the window, giving him a simple nod in return.  She was always somehow surprised by his never-ending plethora of knowledge.
They stood and watched the downpour together in a comfortable silence.
Spencer supposed the rain wasn’t so bad, after that.
In the recent weeks, she found herself wanting so badly to confess her feelings, but as every friends to lovers story goes- she feared rejection. She feared him leaving. And she’d certainly rather love him from afar than confess her feelings and risk losing him.
He’d managed to embed himself so deeply in her heart that she was sure there could never be anyone else for her.
She was mesmerised by him. Compelled by every word that left his mouth, enthralled by all his random knowledge and infinite number of stories he’d committed to his memory. When they sat on his couch watching Doctor Who, she’d gladly listen to any time travel related ranting he wanted to get off of his chest, without any interruptions or eye rolls. (She could listen to him talk forever.)
She’d often fall asleep on his shoulder, and he’d smile down gently at his best friend, a woman he cared so deeply for. 
She stuck by him throughout everything, and she never sugar-coated things. If she thought he was being petty or overreacting slightly in a situation she was the first to bring it up, to call him out. And he’d listen, too, because he trusted her more than anyone and it’s likely she was right about it. She took care of him, in a way that no one ever had before. It was unspoken between them that they’d essentially die for one another, two souls destined to be one another’s everything. 
When he confided in her one night that he was afraid that he should’ve amounted to more, she was quick to soothe his worries. She held him as he sniffled into her shoulder, with hushed reassurances that he was already doing incredible things, and that his work was making the world a safer place, one case at a time.
She was particularly close to JJ, the woman who had become like a sister to her. She told JJ of her feelings for Spencer, and the blonde had just smiled at her in response, as if it had been obvious. 
“You should go for it.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Think so? I know so. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. You mean everything to him.”
That conversation was the final push she needed to decide that it was time to come clean about her feelings.
With the nervous pit in her stomach being overwhelmed by the excitement she felt, she tried to clear her thoughts. She could only hope this went well. She was meant to meet Spencer at his place for the evening, and so knocked gently on the door when she arrived, taking deep breaths to prepare herself.
The door swung open, Spencer flashing her a smile when he saw her. “Hey! I’m glad you’re here, I have something to tell you.”
She grinned, making her way past him into the apartment. “Oh god, what did you do this time? Did you misplace your phone again?” She joked, sliding off her jacket.
Spencer shook his head, biting his lip to supress his smile. 
“Okay. Then what is it?” 
He smiled then, and it was a smile she’d hadn’t seen him wear before. One that was so much bigger than the rest, one that reached his eyes and made them glimmer with hope and glee.
“I- um. I met someone.”
and just like that, her face dropped. 
“Her name is Maeve, she’s a Geneticist. We’ve been talking over the phone for about a month now. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just wanted to see if it was going to go anywhere-“
Her ears stopped tuning in to what he was saying. She could only hear the pounding of her heart filling her ears, tears burning her eyes as she tried her best to keep them at bay. That’s the smile he’d had, the one she couldn’t quite place at first. She recognised it now. The realisation hit her like a train. 
Lovesick.
Spencer had stopped talking, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
She snapped her head up to meet his eyes.
No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with you.
Is what she wanted to say. 
Instead- 
“Sorry, Spencer. I think I’m gonna have to take a rain check tonight. I’m feeling a little sick, so I think I’m just going to head home.” 
“Oh, are you sure? You can always stick around here for a bit, I could take care of you. You know, technically I am a doctor.” He grinned, attempting a joke.
She didn’t laugh, but gave him her best fake smile, one she could only hope he didn’t read too much into. She hoped he couldn’t see the tell-tale profiler signs of devastation on her features that she was so desperately trying to hide. 
If he did notice, he said nothing about it. 
She shook her head. It was taking everything in her to hold herself together, but she’d be damned if she ruined his happiness because of her own pitiful feelings.
She remembered the smile, his beautiful, lovesick smile. It was for Maeve, not her. It made her heart ache in a way that felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest. 
“It’s okay. I’ll uh- I’ll text you later.” She mumbled, grabbing her coat before leaving the apartment, leaving a confused Spencer behind. 
However, all was forgotten when his phone started buzzing, Maeve’s name flashing across the screen. He smiled.
Outside in the car park, she sat in her car as the thunder cracked above her, the treacherous rain coming down in harsh hits against her windshield.
She found herself grateful for the rain in that moment, as the dam holding her emotions back broke, tears flooding down her cold, pink-tinted cheeks.
She placed her head in her hands and began to sob, her uneven breaths and heartbroken cries being slightly muffled by the patters of the rain hitting the gravel outside.
She felt comforted by the sound.
It was as though the sky was crying with her.
Yes, Spencer Reid was her soulmate.
But she just wasn’t his.
Tag list - @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx
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kittydcoxx · 3 years
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Stay with Me.
KAEYA X READER.
Warnings: light angst/heartbreak but nothing bad (happy ending)
The tavern was as crowded as usual, and by that meaning almost completely baren for a rainy Wednesday afternoon. As you order a apple cider from Charles, the tavern door bell rings and you instinctively turn to check.
"Ah~ it is pouring out, I need a drink to combat the dissapointment of getting my fur cape wet."
Kaeya. Of course he wasnt the last person you'd expect to see open the tavern doors, he just wasnt much of a "afternoon delight" type drinker. Still, you stare as he tries to cooly swipe off the wet rain from his uniform as he walks towards the counter and takes a seat next to you.
"Well, well! Good afternoon y/n! What a suprise to see a beauty such as yourself here at this hour."
He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he turns to look straight ahead and run his fingers through his hair, not allowing time for you to respond before he has a drink in his hand.
"Afternoon Captain,"
You face him and smirk with the same intensity of flirty-ness as he just had.
"Of course you would be surprised to see me at this hour, you usually drink yourself to sleep before i order a evening drink."
You chuckle and look straight ahead and take a swig of your beverage, the confidence of your little witty come back replays as the cider burns your throat.
"Oh ho, well thats quite the attitude! I must ask, whats the purpose of this?"
"Hmm?"
"The occasion? I've never seen you drink three days in a row, I've been sober enough to pay attention to that."
The truth is, the last few days you've been at a bit of a crossroads. You know you and the Cavalry Captain share feelings, but you have a job offer in Natlan. This job is a dream to you, ever since you were a child. You could never dream of passing this opportunity, but you question if this possible romance could be the first significant one. You've been meaning to bring it up to him, but recently you just havent seen enough of him to bring up the subject. As a result, you turned to the more than occassional drink at the tavern to brighten your mood from the decision that faces you.
"Well then if you're interested, it actually... might concern you."
Your face is flushed red due to nerves, of course it doesnt directly concern him since nothing astronomical has occured in order to absolutely weigh your decision based on a man, but you didnt want to leave without warning.
"I see, well, we haven't..." His cheeks grow the slightest bit red as his eyes skip to look around then back at you.
"we haven't progressed to that yet, have we? I mean, you're not pregnant are you?"
"What?!" You're taken aback by the direct-ness of his statement, about the fact that he thought it could even have been a possibility. Was it confirming your suspicions of him returning feelings? "No, i- its not that! That is out of the question completely!" You yelp as you shake your hands as a frantic meaning of saying "Absolutely no way".
"Of course! of course.. i just figured i'd ask in case, but i guess drinking for a few days regularly isnt particularly healthy for a baby."
You roll your eyes and take another swig. Oh boy.
"It's actually more of an advice thing, i suppose."
"Ah~ well! lets discuss then, hm!" He happily takes a sip of his wine, his face surprisingly relieved.
"So? What do you need the great Master Kaeya's guidance on?" He smiles and giggles slightly.
"Actually, I'd like to take this outside."
"But its raining cats and-"
"Outside. please."
Your tone picks up more aggresively and he gets the memo. He takes one more sip of his beverage and you do the same with yours. You pay Charles and meet Kaeya right at the door.
"Get ready for the rain, sweetheart"
Your heart jumps as he grabs your wrist and swings open the door, pulling you with him down the street, stopping at a small archway behind a building, big enough to comfortably converse without being cramped or drenched.
"Now, where were we?"
"right.. well.." You look down and fidget with your thumbs, only to look back up at him and see him gazing into your eyes, examining your soul and what felt like your heart. Did he already know? It sure felt like it.
"I have a big decision to make, but i want to ask you before i come to a concrete decision."
He nods as a sign to continue talking, acknkowledging his position in helping you decide.
"I might have to move away. To natlan more specifically. I've recieved a dream~ job offer that i simply cant refuse, unless i was faced with new circumstances here in Mondstadt."
"Hm, And how do i play a role in this?" He asks as he folds his arms and leans back against the stone wall.
You explain to him his part, and he lets you talk until you are completely finished. you tell him your feelings, your worries, your doubts, and your hopes. Every single one that included him in the package. He looks at you sternly the whole time, but he looks hurt at the same time and you wonder why.
"Well, i honestly dont know what to say to this y/n. You know i cant leave Mondstadt if we were to persue eachother."
"I know."
"Then why bother telling me? Why not just leave, hm? Before damage could be done? before you told me all this, confirmed my hopes in our relationship but crushed it with the fact that you 'might' leave? You should have just spared me and left!"
He looks emotional and teary eyed, much more that you're used to seeing from a man who held such a cool composure 24/7. Have you hurt him that much? Does he hate you?
"I can always stay if you wan-"
"No. Its your dream job, and you shouldnt pass it off. I just cant promise that i'll wait for you."
He steps closer to you, inches from your face. His breath is warm and it contrasts with the cold rainy air. He slowly takes your hand and hold it in his, then lands a soft passionate kiss onto your lips. A few seconds of the kiss pass and he breaks for air and looks at you, making strong magnetic eye contact with you.
"Y/n, I can't wait for you."
"You dont have to. I can stay."
He runs his hands up your arms and grips firmly onto your shoulders and kisses you again, and when he pulls back he lets out a heavy sigh.
"There's no staying, just be safe. Please."
Your throat swells like a rock is stuck and your eyes burn hot along with your ears. You cant muster any words, you just stand there maintaining a sorrow eye contact for a few seconds.
As you both stare in silence, he slowly lets go of you, and as soon as his hands depart from yours, he turns and walks out and into the road. The further he walks and fades from your vision, the further you slide down the wall until your behind hits the wet floor as you curl up to your knees. Hard, Hot tears stream steadily down your cheeks as you hide your head in your knees, sobbing hard yet silently. Your heart aches and your stomach churns.
You want to run and look for him, grab him by the waist and embrace him in a hug from behind as you cry against his back, but he has already erased you from his plethora of memories as he sulks in his room with a drink. The night is weary and so are you. You walk home, replaying the scene in your mind over and over, and the instant you step into your home, you fall to your knees and sob once more.
You dont even close the door behind you. You cant do anything but cry, you had no idea you felt so strongly for Kaeya, but you had to put it all behind you.
He probably had.
What feels like an hour or two goes by and you barely made it to the couch, where you lay sprawled out, half on the couch and half not as you stare into empty space, thinking of nothing but everything at once. Why did his mood snap so quickly? Why did he cut you off? Was it self defense? What could he gain by pushing you away? You had no clue, but you didn't want to dwell on it and start crying again, so you just lay there trying to fall asleep.
Suddenly, a warm, slender hand grazes your back and rubs up and down softly.
"I'm sorry."
You jolt a little, but you dont get up immediately.
"How long have you been like this? Its almost night again y/n. Have you gotten up at all!? Your door was wide open, I was worried."
No response from you as you try to analyze the voice. It sounds like Kaeya, but you had remind yourself that he wanted nothing to do with you.
The man sighs and walks away. A hallucination for sure, you thought. The male comes back and lifts you by the shoulders. He sits on the couch and then lays your head onto his lap.
You look up and are met with blue eyes, one scarred and one as normal as you're used to seeing on him, though both glossy as if about to cry.
"Kaeya?"
"Mhm. Sit up Darling, you need to drink water."
You obey and sit close beside him, sipping the water he hands you with both hands on the glass like a child. He puts his arm around you and his hand on your head and gives you a soft yet quite long kiss on the head as you finish your water.
"Im sorry. We can work something out. I know that i shouldn't.. I can't push you away."
You dont fight his embrace as it gets firmer, and his body trembles slightly as if he is crying.
"Do you want me to stay?" you ask sheepishly.
"My dear, its up to you what you want. I'll follow you in whatever you decide. Im choosing to persue you, the rest is yours to seal."
"I want to stay." you state calmly.
"As you wish." He eyes your empty glass of water and gets up to pour you some more. When he comes back you sit against him again, and drink the glass empty, then put the glass on the coffee table and lay your head on his lap.  
"Sleepy?"
"Mhm.."
He chuckles and holds you as you fall asleep, giving you tender kisses all over your face. When you fall asleep, he carries you bridal style upstairs to your room and tucks you into your bed. For a moment he stands there and ponders leaving you to rest, but the guilt of the words he said yesterday and seeing your state today convinced him to stay at your side. He walks to the other side of the bed and crawls in beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and gives you one more peck before falling asleep.
You wake up once in the middle of the night to use the restroom, and when you come back to your room you're awake enough to process the fact that Kaeya was indeed in your bed. You crawl up into where you were in the bed before but this time facing him. You run your fingers along his face, feeling every bone and inch of his smooth skin, his tan beauty enhanced by the glow of the moonlight that peeked in through the window across the room from the bed. Your run your fingers down his hair and admire how his hair falls down his body. You've only been this close to him once, but never had you touched him like this. Your face was red and your smile was definitely pronounced, and as you stroke his cheek his eyes slowly open to see your expression.
"Good morning y/n~" he smiles and wraps his arms around you softly.
"How did you sleep?"
"Actually, its midnight."
"Oh, i see. Well, lets fall back asleep shall we? Or are you wide awake?"
You don't respond immediately but instead wrap your arms around him and hide your face in the crook of his neck.
"Back to sleep.."
He chuckles and brings you closer to his body, rubbing your back and stroking your hair until you both are hazy and about to fall asleep.
"I love you..." you whisper, half aware of what you just said and half not.
He pauses for a second, then gently squeezes your body as if to be his response back.
"I love you too.." he whispers back, his words echo in your mind as you drift to sleep, your dreams filled with nothing but happiness and him. 
You would stay in Mondstadt, but occasionally take trips to Natlan for a few weeks, and would try to take Kaeya with you if he wasn't too busy. The two of you became inseperable, and quite the item for some time, the story of your romance left most who heard it in tears.
After every time you tell the story, he grips your hand and grabs your face softly making you look into his eye.
"I'm glad you stayed."
He says as he pulls you in for a tender kiss, which is usually embarrassing in public but you dont mind in this case, because it was of genuine emotion and not of his flirtatious teasing.
You really do love him.
NOTES!!!!!!!!!!!
This was my first fanfic LMAO
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h4ji · 3 years
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─雨
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summary: iwaizumi reminds you of the rain: a sign of life, but when your relationship changes, so does your view of rain.
warnings: infidelity/cheating, gradual relationship change, fluff to angst, & NOT PROOFREAD
wc: 2.5k
req: no
a/n: yes this is a repost, but here’s a fic inspired by the rain from a couple days ago
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rain. you could either hate rain or love it, it could bring bad memories or good ones. you loved the rain because it reminded you of iwaizumi: his fresh scent, kisses in the rain, running in the rain, and the wet hair sticking to your forehead. your dates were often accompanied by rain, because of poor planning, but neither of you minded as you simply enjoy being in each other’s presence. the rain is symbolic, you and hajime saw it as renewal, a new spring, a revival of life. you both never saw it as a bad thing.
rainy days were either spent inside, bundled up and watching godzilla or outside, watching the dark grey sky turn into a blue sunny one from the window of a cafe. his calloused and warm hands holding your smaller ones. “haji, look!! the rain is pouring down!” you smile and hajime can’t help but smile at you. he pinches your cheek, “stop being so cute, y/n” he chuckles as you whine for him to stop. what could be better than this, you think. as the rain clear ups, hajime pulls you up and out of the cafe. the scent of fresh air and wet grass evident in your surroundings. rainy days were your favorites, because they reminded you of him. 
it was supposed to rain all week, which delighted you to no extent. but hajime is a busy man, with the olympics so close he couldn’t spend as much time at home. you didn't mind one bit, you supported him every step of the way and as long as he was happy and loved his job, you would be happy for him. “i’m home,” hajime says out loud, his tired frame taking off his shoes as he looks at the floor. and then he hears the pitter patter of your sock covered feet, “welcome home, haji” you smile, hands clasped together in delight before you jump and wrap your arms around him. your giggles fill his ears and he’s never been more delighted to hear it. his toned arms wrap around your frame, “i missed you” he breathes out, and almost instantaneously breaths your scent in. home. this is home. you were his home.
the sound of the rain drumming against the glass of the window, you’re favorite type of day. “haji, look! it’s raining outside” you smile whilst pressing your hand against the cool glass, contemplating whether you’d go outside. but those thoughts died down as soon as hajime declined the offer to go out. and you understood. of course you did! he just came back from a grueling day at work, how could you make him do something like that. this should’ve been the least of your worries
the rain is beautiful. you watch the droplets slide down the window, the sound gradually getting louder. and for some reason, the rain didn’t make you happy anymore. it made you sad. 
you tried to be understanding you really did, but hajime’s appearances at the house were practically nonexistent. where is he… you think as your fingers thump against the window sill, desperately looking outside, for a sign, a sign of hajime. you needed him. you didn’t realize but these symptoms: restlessness, trembling, harsh breaths and this constant worry, were of you having a panic attack. your body curls in on itself, an attempt to find solace in the cold room and the rain. but your lover was nowhere to be seen.
these situations started to make you resent the rain. the rain was no longer a symbol of life, renewal or spring. the thing that reminded you of hajime, the rain, you started to resent… what would this mean for you both. 
hajime could feel it too. the constant distance, an imaginary wall if you will, between you both. where did it go wrong… he frowns. he remembers rainy days being your favorite, so why was the atmosphere so gloomy and depressed, was he missing something? 
his failure to notice your feelings, your complete and utter loneliness, was where he started to go wrong. he failed to notice your constant comparing, he failed to notice your heart slowly breaking, failed to notice the utter loneliness and despair you felt within yourself. he wondered what was wrong, but never voiced his opinions, thinking if they wanted to tell me, they would. this relationship would no longer symbolize the old meaning of rain: fresh and beautiful life, now it symbolized despair, loneliness and tears. you used to wear your heart on your sleeve, it was something he loved about you, but he made you subject to these feelings. not him per say but his lack of… emotion or awareness. did he not notice you suffering? did he not notice you sobbing to yourself? did he care? what happened to you both?
you noticed he had changed. how he no longer mimicked your sadness or no longer pleaded towards it. he seemed much...happier. and your mind wanders, the insecurities biting at your body and mind, telling you that he no longer needed you and that he’d find someone better to appease to him.
he doesn’t come home often, stating that the olympics and his work are of first priority. and you think to yourself… is this why he didn’t notice your depressive state? you were practically screaming in silence, was he that oblivious. the home you lived in together, it no longer felt like home. and that day when hajime came home, he knew, things weren’t how they used to be. the pile of dishes in the sink, the cold dinner on the table, and the loud silence that filled the air. he sees your sleeping frame on the couch, doubled over in despair as the television on with some stereotypical rom com playing. oh how he despised those couples, so cliche and so...unnatural; is that how the two of you used to be?
he walks up to you, his mind internally fighting on whether to wake you up and ask if you were okay, ask if your relationship was okay, or just to let you sleep. he opted for the latter. which was the wrong move on his part.
he came home again the next night, something that was unusual. and this time you were awake, but the mess and emptiness from last night was still present. this befuddled him to no end, what the hell were you doing at home? or were you even at home all day? that day was particularly shitty: it was gloomy, he was tired, stressed, and all of this mess. his loud sighs of annoyance alarm you, the first time you see him in weeks and he’s annoyed with you? 
“do you do anything at all?” iwaizumi snarks out. “it can’t be that fucking hard, can it? i go and work for like 12 hours of the day and all you fucking do is sit on your ass and cry.” and it hurts him to say that to the one he loves, but his insecurities and anger got the best of him. were you at home all day today? were you seeing someone else? he was beyond confused with the two of you.
so he walks out that night. he leaves you alone, in the cold dark house to wallow in self pity and hatred. and as he goes to the bar he realizes, you’re no longer his home. 
as you wallow in a mountain worth of your own tears, you come to terms with the fact that you hate the rain because it reminded you of iwaizumi hajime. 
little do you know on that night he meets a lady. a small, curvy, attention giving and seeking, beautiful lady. her long hair sits perfectly on her shoulders and iwaizumi thinks about how he hasn’t seen you dressed up nicely recently. lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s staring at her, but oh she definitely notices. the blush on her cheeks proves just that much, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 
when was the last time you reacted to him like this? when did he even see another person that wasn’t you, has it been that long? he internally sighs. but he’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a soft and delicate hand on his bicep, “what’s a man like you doin’ here all by yourself” she glistens as she speaks. and iwaizumi swears he hasn’t felt like this in so long. he soaks in all her attention, like a dry sponge soaking all of the water thrown at it. his beautiful smile, the one you adore, shown on full display for the beautiful young lady. That night… he doesn’t think about you, at all. 
nothing seems out of the ordinary when you see him again. the same silent house, no smiles are thrown and it’s just an empty void. 
he sees her again. hell he makes plans with her, he wouldn’t call it a date, god no he wouldn’t. he has you-
“wait,” he thinks, “are we really still together?” he asks, almost in disbelief. you haven’t said a word to each other since iwaizumi bursted out on you. 
he found solace in her: her face, her emotions, her attention, even her body. god, she was everything you weren’t. she was giving him everything you couldn’t emotionally, mentally or physically. he didn’t even realize you working on yourself, all for him. you noticed it too. his persona was back, but who made it come back? certainly not you.
his smile, something he used to be so insecure about, was brighter than ever. but who was he smiling for, you hadn’t spoken in days, no weeks at this point. maybe work was getting better, you tried to convince yourself. “hajime, would never EVER do that to me... would he?” you think as tears well up in your eyes. hajime was your everything, he was your stability in time’s of weakness, he was your other half, but unfortunately for you he’s starting to not think the same.  
you see him home for the first time in 3 weeks, he looks happy and you smile at him. he’s surprised to see you greeting him, and he greets you with a hug and kiss to your temple. you’d never even guess that he was seeing someone behind your back. hajime reminded you of the rain, that fact never changed. this new symbol of rain resembles heartbrokenness. the sun in your life is covered by grey disgusting clouds. 
for months he continues this affair, the other woman giving him the support and love he no longer comes to you for. he holds her hand as she sleeps, while your hand lays sprawled out against his side of the bed. the rain hits the window, like that fateful day and your eyes well up in realization, “olympics season is over, where is he?”. your palm curls in on itself, the sobs racking up your body and they echo in the room. for the first time in months, the rain brings you comfort as you cry out all the insecurity and self hatred you’ve kept in. this is a ritual that continues for the rest of the week, wearing iwa’s sweater and crying as you long for his comfort or even his presence. his scent starts to fade from the house and rather it smells like the rain, the fresh rain that reminded you of him. that night, you grab your phone and press on iwa’s contact, and you type before your mind could process. “i miss you, can you please come home?” “what the hell did i do?” “please”, and you despised how desperate you sounded, but you needed him. however, your messages fell on deaf ears as he made love to this girl, he was pounding into her with so much love while you cried out for him in despair. he didn’t care about you anymore, he didn’t need you like you needed him. he was no longer your home.
the next night he came home, you noticed the love bites and nail marks, that which were so clearly not yours. he sleeps next to you, for the first time in weeks, but he feels so distant. it doesn’t even feel like he’s there. there’s no love in that bed. 
you think you’d be used to it, feeling alone while next to him, but you weren’t. You finally had him to yourself and he didn;t even spare you a glance. you had an idea that he was no longer interested, but you couldn’t fathom this. his phone lights up like crazy, said girl texting him, asking him when he would come back to her, when he would end things with you and saying after that they could finally be together, with no worries or barriers. your hand reaches out for his phone, opening up the password he made sure you knew by heart, which revealed all the messages with her. in these messages he professes his love for her, saying that he wishes they could start a family together and how he could just let go of the burden that he felt from you. 
sure he felt bad, you were his first s/o, you’d always have a special place in his heart. but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he felt bound to you, a relationship with no love or affection, no care, nothing at all. if he told himself a couple years ago that this is where you both would be, he wouldn't believe it, at all. you were each other’s first: first kiss, first sexual experience, first significant other, first everything. but the relief he felt when he heard you crying was abnormal, but all he could think of was “i’m free”. he heard your sobs as you looked at all the messages, he felt you shaking beside him. part of him wanted to reach out to you, wanted to console the broken person in front of him, but another part of him said that he was finally free to do as he pleases, he wouldn't be bound by a loveless relationship and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be anymore. like said before, he feels bad, really bad, for lying for cheating, but he felt like he had no other option with you. you always found a way to make him stay and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. besides, how could he feel bad when the person he loves was hiding in the confinement of his phone and not next to him every night. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he loved this girl because of you, but now he was free, free to do as he pleases.
iwaizumi hajime reminded you of the rain. but rain has different meanings. iwaizumi hajime reminded you of love, happiness and spring. your relationship also reminded you of rain, the gloominess, depression, spiritual death and bad omens. but now the rain reminded you of new life: the new life you’d face without hajime, the rebirth of your soul and heart,  the resurrection of happiness in your life, rain isn’t so bad anymore.
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kusagrasskusa · 3 years
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Kabuto and Adoptive Reader - "Shihaikigo"
Part 1, possible a part 2 (will be linked if it comes out)
Summer: Kabuto had been walking home from a fight and met a little girl there. She had a special kekkei genkai called a Shihaikigo, meaning "controlling marks," which contained the ability to control half the mind of an opposer. She's willingly taken to the Sound Village after she began to trust Kabuto and there she met Orochimaru. She would either be sent to another Sound Villager to be raised or stay under Orochimaru's watchful eye until her kekkei genkai gets stronger. If Kabuto were to aid Y/N in life and to raise her, he could be killed in order to break down Y/N. She's very distrustful in a lot of people but Kabuto since they met. Her kekkei genkai is something that is strong enough to rival a Sharingan or Byakugan so Orochimaru plans to use to for himself one day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Laying there, on the sidewalk on a rainy night, helpless was a child with long, messy, hair and a soaked light-grey dress with red stains. She had no shoes, no home, no comfort, and nobody. She was essentially useless; helpless in this dark, cruel, magical world full of demons, heros, and killers. No matter where she searched for any kind of sanctuary or light, there was nothing. She was left with no motivation or thing to hold on to as right inside the very woods that surrounded the village she is in, was a clan hidden deep within. In this clan was very few powerful, but nonetheless meaningful and strong.
They managed to survive alone and strongly for centuries since their beginnings, as their kekkei genkai is the ability to control 25%-50% some signals heading towards someone's brain, which can therefore nearly control their actions and thoughts and feelings. Of course, such power comes with restrictions. The hair of the people in the clan is very sacred; although it could be cut, it limits the ability for them to use their kekkei genkai forever, even when the hair regrows. If their power is overused, they will be become sick and possibly will be paralyzed, mentally unstable, and others even among death.
This power is stores within three marks on the person's body; it doesn't matter where they are as long as it's on the head, neck, palm, or shoulders. The mark travels between the brain and fingertips, and the user then has to touch their opponent with their fingertips in order for their power to be in use. As mentioned, it has a limit so typically the user's kill is fast and clean. For it's dark advantages and evil disadvantages, this power is represented with horns and a halo;
This clan was feared quite a lot for it's abilities, and most people are raised to never use their abilities as it could be dangerous. But some people would use it on accident as it was surprisingly much easier to use than thought. And it was a certain child's accidental use of that power that caused her to be so helpless on the pavement of Konoha on a dark, wet night. It was empty and alone on these streets aside from the sound of slow footsteps immersing from the left side of her.
The six year old girl barely turned her head to the person walking passed her; he didn't even seem to notice her. But upon seeing his silver hair, a sparkle appeared in her eyes; it was too foggy to even notice the difference between this snake and the ninja she thinks he is.
"Kakashi, is that you?" Ahe asked weakly, slowly standing up. She pulled her arms to her chest, shaking as the cold rain began to rain down harder. The man in front of her stopped, paused for a moment, then slowly turned around k face her. "Oh...I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." The girl's look returned to hopeless as she hung her head low.
"Why are you out here all alone at night? Where are your parents?" He asked emotionless as he pushed his glasses up, eyeing the helpless girl. The girl was silent for a moment before whimpering a little. Then all at once, she broke into tears and collapsed onto the concrete floor beneath her. The man stared at her hopeless form for a minute, watching her cry and whimper before he finally crouched down besides her. He pet her back before sliding his hand up under her chin, moving her head up so he could see her clearly.
"You are part of the L/N Clan, aren't you? You possess the Shihaikigo kekkei genkai, do you not? I can see marks on your skin." The silverhead asked, cockkng his head to the side. The little girl sniffed as she wiped away her fallen tears, her lip quivering as she nodded. After a moment, he hummed. "Why is there blood on your dress?" He asked as he wiped away her tears.
"I didn't mean to," she whimpered out. "It was an accident..." And just from that, Kabuto understood. The blood was from her parents; she accidentally killed them. He smirked lightly upon seeing her fragile body break down once more, but this time she lunged towards him and wrapped her small arms around him and clenched his clothes tightly. She cried into his chest as Kabuto brushed his fingers through her chair.
"It hurts, doesn't it? To have lost everything you had ever cared for just like that. And you fear the people around you will hate you; hurt you emotionally snd physically; kill you. It's truly frightening. Such a shame someone so oung has to endure such a thing, hmm?" He asked as he pat her back. She remained in her broken state, his more quiet and listening closely to him. "However, what if I told you there was a way to make these problems disappear? I know people who will except you and love you and raise you for who you are."
Y/N pulled away, her small hands wiping away her tears once more. "But...but...killers don't deserve happiness," she breathed out softly. Kabuto clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
"I think you'll find that everyone deserves happiness. Except," he paused, gritting his teeth as a wider smile appeared over his face. "Excpet those who try to take it from you because they have no idea what you've been through. Selfish people like that will never deserve happiness." Y/N pure yet terrified E/C eyes stared deep into his; she was so young, so naive and so gullible.
"I, for one, believe you deserve happiness. You're a little girl who made a mistake. That's all," he spoke, looking down at her with such manipulation in his eyes. "You deserve a good home with a warm bed for you and nice food. You deserve good parents and most of all, happiness. Don't you want that?" Y/N slowly nodded her head, never breaking her gaze into his eyes. She was so helpless that it was sickening for Kabuto to pry on such a little girl and obviously only for her kekkei genkai.
Y/N sniffed, sighing a shakey breath before replying. "Thank you...so, so much, suh-sir. I really do want things to go back to normal," she replied. She wrapped her arms around him again and sobbed away her last tears in his chest as he held her close. He was patient with her but the heavy rain and fog was making it very hard to see through his glasses. Suddenly, he burst out in a little laugh.
"How rude of me to offer this before I even introduced myself. My name is Kabuto Yakushi. What is your's?"
"My, my name? It's Y/N L/N," she mumbled as she pulled away from him for the last time. "I just really, really, want things to go back to normal. Please, take somewhere safe, please," she begged. Kabuto softly wrapped his larger hands around her waist and picked her up while standing up straight as well. He held her close smiling softly at her with closed eyes and a tilted head. Y/N smiled back at him and giggled for the first time in a while.
He than began his walk to his original path with Y/N in his arms. Along the long walk, he would ask a question about her age, clothing type, school life and grades, hobbies and other things, and he'd give his own answer as well. Anything to get to know each other. Puddles splashed with each step he took and the clouds seem to just get darker and darker. But luckily, about 30 minutes later, it all came to a stop once Kabuto had arrived to his destination: the hideout of Orochimaru or Otogakure.
"Stay here for a little please, Miss Y/N," Kabuto spoke lightly as he walked inside the underground home. "I must go talk to someone right now, but I'll be back with a surprise," he smiled at her as he left her by the entrance doors. She waved goodbye to him as a large smile remained on her face as she was happy to finally by out of the rain. Kabuto's face dropped as he walked to Orochimaru's room in order to discuss Y/N to him. On his way, what played in his mind was the conversation he had with her on his way here.
Such a young girl was capable of such intelligent responses and detailed storytelling. She may have stuttered here and there but overall she was very consistent and concise. She reminded him a lot of himself as he was willing to abandon his orphanage and family to make them live a better life out of fear for their lives. Y/N attacked her parents for nearly harming a few civilians out of thr goodness of her heart. The situations may have been different but deep down, his heart was just as pure as her's at one point in time.
"A member of the L/N clan, you say? My, my Kabuto, you found quite the prize," Orochimaru smiled darkly as he finished hearing the word of his pawn's finding. "Is she capable of using the Shihaikigo?"
"Yes. In fact, she ran away from her clan because she ended a life with it despite her young age," he explained with a dark smile on his face. "She has a very intelligent mind as well."
Orochimaru laughs were hushed as he considered his moves with the girl. "Perhaps after Kimimaro could be her, don't you think? After all, her kekkei genkai is worth as much as a Byakugan or Sharingan; what good is simply seeing chakra when you could control it? A power like that must be harnessed," he thought out loud. "How about this... A girl of her age can't comprehend what it's like to have a meaning or worth and what giving up her life for another would mean. We will raise her to be desensitized to any evil she sees before we break the truth to her."
Kabuto nodded, "Understood, Lord Orochimaru."
"Well, don't just stand there. I'd love to meet the child," he laughed as he looked Kabuto in the eye again, his smirk growing. Kabuto obeyed and walked out, returning again later with a soaked little girl by his side. She was so happy when she heard she could meet the one who would make her dreams come true, only to be met with fear when she saw the pale snake-like man himself. Her smile dropped and she started to shake; Y/N hid behind his leg, staring at the creature with fear in her eyes.
"Y/N, dear, you can't always judge a book by its cover. This man is Lord Orochimaru; it would be wise to-"
"Come now, Kabuto, this reaction is understandable really." The snake stared down at the little girl with interest glimmering in his dead eyes. He then extended his hand towards the little girl crouching down before her. "Give me your hand, darling. I don't bite, I promise," he laughed. Y/N's lip quivered as she looked up at Kabuto. He had an encouraging smile on his face that told her everything would be alright. That's all the validation she needed before reaching out to take Orochimaru's hand and have him pull her closer.
He held her chin and examined the three marks along her body (you choose where they are :)) before laughing once again. "You're kind is so incredible. That even a child managed to murder with it. Yes, truly incredible." Y/N's eyes widened with fear and she started to freak out even more.
"Mister Oro...Orochimaru, I don't understand," she mumbled fearfully. Orochimaru brushed his fingers over one of her marks and then stood up, patting her head.
"You'll understand one day, child. I promise you," he said as he looked at Kabuto. "Do you wish to help raise her or have other ninja do it?"
"I want to stay with Kabuto, Mister Orochimaru," the little girl called out. Kabuto's dark eyes looked down at her small form. He felt helpless against the adorable voice of the girl and sighed out loudly. She turned to Kabuto and took his hand, hugging it possessively. "Please don't leave me! I just met you and you're the only friend I got now! Please, Kabuto, I'll be good, I swear!" Orochimaru raised a brow, laughing.
"You are good with children, I see. Good. If you wish to take her, I'm sure you would have no problem finding food and clothes for her, right?" Kabuto crouched down by Y/N, her still hugging his hand, and chuckled before booping her nose. He could guess that Orochimaru may kill him in order to destroy her and use her in the future, but for right now, a little more time with the girl wouldn't hurt. After all, it had been quite a while since he had been near a child. In the back of his mind was always the home he grew up in and forever, he will miss it. If being around a single happy child will make him feel more at home, so be it.
The thing is, Kabuto doesn't care about Y/N enough to care about raising her; after all, Orochimaru may kill him. However the idea of having a piece of his past that was taken frkm him back meant a lot to him. So why throw it away? And the thing tipping the scale towards possible death was Y/N's adorable big E/C eyes and cute voice, just like some of the girls in his old home. Plus how she can expirence what it's like to be parentless and be able to relate to him kn a deep level.
"Alright, I made up my mind," Kabuto spoke.
"Kabuto, please," Y/N spoke, her dry eyes swelling up with tears again. "I want to stay with you." Orochimaru smiled at Kabuto patiently, awaiting an answer.
"I'll take her in. It's best to keep a watchful eye under such a kekkei genkai, isn't it?" He asked rhetorically. Y/N gasped loudly before smiling widely and hugging him so tightly.
"Thank you! I promise you woke regret it, haha!" Kabuto frowned, patting the top of her head.
"Let's get you cleaned up before we sleep, Y/N. While you bathe, I'll find clothes for you, okay?" He asked as he pulled away from her hug. Y/N smiled happily as she nodded grabbing his hand before desending out if the room with Kabuto. Orochimaru stayed behind, watching closely, laughing under his breath about how innocent she is and what his plans for her will be.
It had been an hour later when the two of them were ready to go to sleep. After all, although it wasn't mentioned earlier, Kabuto was dirty from fighting earlier that day and he needed to bathe as well. Of course, separate from when Y/N did. The silverhead's chamber was relatively large and minimalistic, though now more crowded with a little mattress across the room and two bags full of clothes for her age group. There was a big bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a bunch of candles around the room for a light source. There, of course, was no windows and no toys for Y/N to play with much to her dismay hut she was too tired to question.
"You will sleep in my bed tonight," Kabuto spoke as he helped Y/N climb into his bed. "If you need anything, let me know. I'm blowing out all the candles so if you need anything, you have to speak before you doing anything else, okay?" Y/N yawned and nodded in understanding.
"Yep. Thank you," she replied as she rubbed her tired eyes and laid down. Kabuto blew out each candle on every side of the room before he returned to the small mattress across the room. It was comfortable but it would be removed so as Kabuto would eventually get Y/N a chamber of her own to sleep in of course. He pulled the covers over him and set his glasses on the floor besides him. "Hey Kabuto?"
"Yes?"
"I love you as much as my real dad. Thank you."
Kabuto frowned, taking a moment to comprehend what she had said. "I care about you too. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite," she giggled before slowly falling asleep under the covers.
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Never Forget -Batfam x MHA!MALE!CHILD reader
Summery: M/N (eri’s little brother) made a accident in the training course, which makes overhaul throw him into a strange pit. sending M/n away into a another universe.
A couple of changes : Eri wasn’t abandoned nor did she kill her dad or something, in my AU Overhaul killed both Eri’s parents in-front of her.
( i might make a part 2 if i can)
meanings:
AU : alternative universe
M/N : Male name 
E/C : Eye colour 
H/C : Hair colour
MUM/N : Mum name
D/N: Dad name
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From yards away, a massive explosion was heard, screaming and panic coming from left to right; the little boy was frightened as figures were running towards him. “M/N” Eri Shouted. M/N looked straight to his sisters eyes but slowly began to see Overhaul's evil face as the darkness vanished, M/N stood back with tears rolling down his face as he realised his mistake. Overhaul caught up with the boy and seized M/N’s arm, Eri started sobbing and trying to catch up to her brother. but one of the nurses dragged her away back to their room.
Overhaul guided M/N to a small space with a metallic coated pit surrounding the edges with red diamonds, the area was navy blue with markings on the walls. The scent of the pit was unpleasant and foreign, M/N bit his lip wondering why Overhaul brought him here. Suddenly, Overhaul lifted M/N and threw him into the pit, M/N screamed as the poisonous sources burned his skin.
His pure white hair was dyed H/C and as E/C began to take over, his once stunning naive red eyes slowly began to fade away, M/n screamed to his beloved sister, but she didn't come. With Overhaul’s smirking face being the last thing he saw, M/N’s whole body went completely under the pit and that very day M/N died from his universe.
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Gotham City, 12:40 PM 8th December.2014
With blood spilling out, M/N woke up coughing, his E/C eyes scanning the area where he woke up. It was a rainy day with the wind flowing through the hair of the little boy, M/N trembling as the cold eventually reached his pale skin. Unlike his older sister, M/N heard strange honking movements and some sort of beast that chirped about, M/N never really had the opportunity to go to the outside world.
People walked by the boy not even looking at him once, M/n stood up struggling because of the previous injections he had obtained at his nightmare of a house from the cruel doctor's place. He walked around the area wanting to speak to people, but nothing came out. Due to M/n not speaking very often, his voice was rusty and low. Citizens weirdly gazed at him, forcing M/n away from them, assuming that he was homeless. Which he has become.
all of a sudden alarms began going off, M/N turned around and saw three men dressed in all black in a huge building with the words'BANK 'on it before he could go ask another individual. People around M/N started to cry, and anxiety spread.  One of the mysterious men rushed towards M/N and pulled M/N into the bank,M/N was puzzled but mostly in agony as the man pulled tight to where one of M/n's bandages  were.
Police cars stationed with weapons in their possession at the front of the bank, M/N was attached firmly to a chair, making him bleed a little from previous cuts and treatments. The police were hollering at the men to let M/n go, however in exchange, the guys needed something. It was a disaster, everyone was worried for poor M/n who every time they hollered something he didn't really understand and became more confused.
"Let the child go" M/n had swore that he'd seen one of the police officers roll their eyes in envy, the three men froze in horror and briefly started coughing out of shock as five figures came out of nowhere.
The three men began firing at the five figures that had already begun battling them back before M/n could say something again.
Within M/n, the gunshots triggered something that the vibrations were recognizable, but he couldn't position it until someone began to cry in the audience for help. Ultimately, it started to dawn on M/n. The very same way his parents died, MUM/N and D/n, he recalled that night as though it was a children's song for overhaul. their parents refused  to give away their children, which later had angered Overhaul. In front of a four-year-old Eri as well as a two-year-old M/n, Overhaul shot their parents, Eri ran to their mother and father and embraced them for the last time although blood emerged on Eri's white jacket. There stood the young M/n with his lips twitching. People came out of the black vans, and Eri was forced into one of vans, while M/n was brought to some other van. As all the vehicles began driving off into the hide-out, Overhaul entered his car.
As the flashbacks flooded in, M/n shook his head, looked back up saw that the men were being arrested and led away. He was approached by one of the mysterious bat-looking men, as well as a detective-looking man. "Hello, I'm commissioner Gordon.what is your name, kid?” asked Gordon. M/n tumbled over his vocabulary and tried to grasp how it sounded native to M/n, but he figured Gordon was wondering what his name was. "M/n..my name is M/n" said M/n.
“M/n..no last name,kid?” Gordon questioned M/n, M/n shook his head and bit his lips quietly. Gordon and the bat-looking man looked at each other before nodding.
"Hey kid, We'll send you to the hospital okay? a few people would like to see you" Gordon said sincerely, M/n saw several nurses rushing up to him.  as the nurses caught up they took M/n’s hand and directed him to the ambulance, but only a few saw M/n wince as the nurses contacted his body. As it reminded him of all those nurses back at home, M/n did not like the embraces so much but M/n understood and sat on the floor silently.
They guided M/n to a private room when they eventually made it to the hospital. Nursing staff had ensured that m/n was relaxed enough for the room so that before the visitors arrived, the small child would be at least tidy. The white room was examined by M/n; it was loaded with childish decorations. The soft sheets which was spread on a mattress were touched from M/n. Five familair individuals went inside the room before M/n could investigate even more. Finally, M/n knew who it was, and this was the five heroes who rescued him.
"hello, I'm Bruce wayne and these are my children."  The man introduced, M/n looked down.     "I'm Dick Grayson" "jason todd" "Timothy or Tim drake" "tch, Damian Wayne" M/n nodded slowly, having looked at everybody, hoping they knew who he was. Although M/n was only four, he understood that in his existence, these individual people will eventually become a significant influence.
When the space was quiet again, M/n had never felt more comfortable than he was now in his lifespan. M/n began to play with his hands. Though he wondered what was happening to Eri back home, he did miss his sister, even though everything was definitely coming into focus. Jason asked, "Where are your parents, M/n?" Dick slapped his forearm like an angry mother.Jason frowned and mumbled only at dick, 'I'm just asking man' Prior to staring out the window, M/n glanced at Jason for just a couple of seconds.
He breathed, "..dead.." M/n bit his lip and felt tiny tears tumble down his pained expression. While he was smaller, he never really thought about it that much however the term mother and father became foreign to him gradually, M/n didn't want the episodes to return back. The family stared at M/n, Bruce looked down at his hands, then looked back up at M/n. "how do you feel if I raised you?" Bruce unexpectedly asked, and everyone stared at him in disbelief.
"that'd be nice" M/n responded, and Bruce grinned and nodded at the little child in front of him. M/n looked at the other boys who, with the exception of Damian, all looked enthusiastic. The family soon departed M/n’s room.M/n glanced out the door and smiled once again with tears running down his cheeks.  As he had always dreamed of he was finally going to be welcomed into a family. He was going to have brothers, and he was going to have a real family, and he was going to have people to protect him no matter what.
M/n was obviously going to be able to discover what it meant to love someone, what it meant to understand somebody else. M/n began lying on his bed and having a look at the walls. “Hey Eri, I know you can't hear me, but I'm expecting to be able to have family once more. P-people have become so pleasant here but if I get a-a-adopted? Yes adopted, then I'm going to be able to see the outer universe. But I'm still not trying to forget you all right? So don't forget me Eri!, The next time we talk, I'll only bring you presents! Dozens of them all right?. A number of them. I'm going to try to make you proud this year, I guarantee you, sis, Your not just a sister. Your a hero, goddess and dream, I loooooooove you sister"
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Gotham city 1:20 PM 20th April 2020
'Damian?! Do you know where Titus managed to pick up my shoes again?' exclaimed a 10-year-old boy, Damian grunted, and turned to the kitchen. "Titus went that way, M/n" M/n nodded and dashed to the kitchen. M/n  peaked under the table as he  arrived in the kitchen and saw an enormous black dog chewing his shoes. M/n gasped loudly and decided to stand up, constantly ruining his mood with Titus. "Good afternoon Master Wayne" Alfred chuckled, M/n simply smiled before grabbing his beloved blueberry waffles .
"Master Wayne, remember you have ballet lessons at 5. We don't really want  you to skip another lesson." Alfred reminded, M/n nodded as he stuffed his face with waffles.     shortly after Jason came into the kitchen and stole M/n's waffles, M/n growled at Jason and turned around only to witness Titus eating the majority of the waffles.  
"I HATE BOTH OF YOU!" M/n yelled angrily, Jason laughed but soon stopped as Damian started chasing him.  
As he saw Jason being chased around, M/n smirked hoping for amusement. Since you were Damian's closest brother, it always comes in very handy. Then Bruce came in with his suit, today Bruce finally caught a break from his business, but then had to contend with some meeting with yet another business. "hey M/n, Having a good time?" Bruce asked the male next to him, M/n nodded and then dashed to his bedroom with no other words.
M/n set down on his mattress and shut his eyes when M/n made it to his room. "Hey Eri, It has been a couple of weeks since i've spoken to you. How's it been? I hope you got away from Overhaul, My family still don't know about our world or my history before they raised me. I'm planning to tell them soon though, Hope you haven't missed me kidding, Uhm..Goodnight or good morning dork. Loving you."
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??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
“Love you too, M/n. I always can hear you," a female voice muttered, Eri smiled and then continued cuddle with Kota Izumi her boyfriend.     " farewell M/n, I'll never forget you" Eri stated once more before falling asleep once more.
ǹ̴͕͖̝̿͑é̴͔̠͌̕͜v̵̼̼͎̓̈́͋e̴̼̘̾̽̕͜r̸͕͇̺̔̓ f̸͉͉͇̓́͑o̵̦̫̠͌̓͠r̴̦͕̦͒̽̽g̵̡̠̪̈́͑e̴͍̙͙̽̿͝t̸̼̺͋͌͝
Hey Hope you enjoyed !
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thetypedwriter · 4 years
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Midnight Sun Book Review
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Midnight Sun Book Review by Stephenie Meyer 
Oh my god, you guys. 
Just. Oh. My. God. 
This book took ten years off of my life. 
As a heavy reminder, these book reviews are entirely subjective and my very personal opinion. I don’t need the hoards of Twihards coming after me with pitchforks and pretend fangs from Party City because I didn’t fall head-over-heels with this canon spinoff like my fourteen-year-old self would have. 
With that measly disclaimer out of the way, let’s move onto the actual book review. If you haven’t heard of Midnight Sun or don’t know what it is, then I don’t know what to tell you except that you avoided 600 plus pages of stream of conscious ranting. 
For those of you that would like to be enlightened, Midnight Sun is the retelling of the infamous Twilight book-yes, that Twilight, Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen Twilight, complete with vampires, not so-stellar acting, and the more than notorious forest scene of Edward demanding she say… “vampire!” Gasp. 
But no really, like most women in my now mid-20’s, as a teenager, I was obsessed with the Twilight saga and everything it had to offer, especially the dreamy, chivalrous, too good to be true Edward Cullen (fuck Jacob). 
I voraciously devoured the books while I was in middle school, attended the midnight book premier for Breaking Dawn, and stayed up way too late for each and every movie screening that followed, a loyal fan to the end. To give you some perspective, I even joined the Twilight club my freshman year of high school. 
Yes, if you were wondering, I was indeed that cool. 
I was obsessed and in love and outside of Harry Potter, it’s still one of the few book fandoms and series that I was truly enveloped and consumed by. Whether that was due to my age, the experience of the fandom, the cultural phenomena that was following the movies and new releases, or for other reasons, it was an experience I look back on now with simultaneous fondness and slight embarrassment. 
I wasn’t embarrassed by my involvement or my experience in the fandom, like many other people, I made great friends through Twilight (including my best friend, whom I met in college when we mutually bonded over our love of Twilight), read countless fanfiction that, to this day, I still remember and cherish with my heart, and it was one of the series that cemented my love of reading and book culture as a whole for me. 
However, like everyone else, I inevitably grew up, matured, and my reading tastes changed and became more refined. As an avid re-reader of books, I have tried going back to re-read the Twilight saga multiple times... 
...and failed. 
The books had simply lost their magic for me. 
The story seemed dull and nonsensical, Bella had become the epitome of a Mary Sue, the writing was now apparently mediocre, and Breaking Dawn’s lackluster climax angered me to the point of speechlessness (it still does). 
So, I gave up re-reading the series and while I deemed that it was perhaps not as wonderful and life-changing as it had been for 8th grade Melissa, I still appreciated what it had done for me personally and the experiences that I had gained through the books. 
Speaking of 8th grade Melissa, the original Midnight Sun, that being twelve chapters of the original manuscript that had been leaked back in 2008, had been put up on Stephenie Meyer’s website for all to enjoy. 
Like the good, whipped fangirl I was, I devoured all 12 chapters with ease and lamented the loss of never getting more than that snapshot of Edward’s thoughts and musings. 
Now, twelve years later, the full book has been written, published, and released to the delight and downright shock to many age-old Twilight fans that had believed that series to be dead and buried, myself included. 
So, when the book came out this August, I swallowed my trepidation, knowing that my love for the characters was now long gone, but I believed that the sentimentality of 8th grade Melissa’s obsession would long linger, making this a pleasant blast from the past to lift my mood. 
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case. 
Now, that I’ve told you my whole life story in an effort to explain why I have the feelings I do and to justify that I’m not just being negative for the sake of being negative, this book did not hold up to any of my expectations. 
One, it was so freaking long. 
Holy shit, was this book long. 
As I have said countless times on this blog, I like big books (and I cannot lie). It’s the best feeling in the world when you get into a story and you realize that you have many days ahead of you of being engulfed within this new world that you’ve fallen head-over-heels for. 
It’s the opposite, sinking feeling of dread when you feel like you’ve been reading the book for weeks and are getting nothing out of it. 
Midnight Sun was a lot like that.
It was too long to be good, especially considering the length was not generally driven by plot, but instead driven by Edward thinking of every fucking thing to the nth degree and driving me crazy in the process. 
Homeboy needs to take a chill pill, he overstresses, overthinks, and overanalyzes everything to the point of irritation as a reader. 
Meyer’s editor really needed to step in and say, “Hey, Stephenie...is all of this really necessary?” and then proceed to cut out at least 300 pages of nonsense. 
But that didn’t happen, probably because first and foremost, the book was already going to sell no matter what changes or edits were made, and this seemed like a book more for Stephenie than anyone else. 
It was very much stream of consciousness like I’ve already said, a style of writing defined as a literary style in which a character's thoughts, feelings, and reactions are depicted in a continuous flow uninterrupted by objective description or conventional dialogue. 
It wasn’t on the level of James Joyce’s Ulysses or other notable works, but damn was it close. 
This writing style I found abhorrently repetitive and exceptionally dull. 
Perhaps my fourteen-year-old self would have felt differently and would have sucked up anything about Edward Cullen eagerly considering he was the fictional love of my life. 
Or perhaps this book would have made me go running and screaming in the opposite direction as Edward is...kind of awful?
One positive thing I can say about this book is that it paints Bella Swan in a very rosy light, which was actually very refreshing. One of the most famous criticisms that Meyer’s has received is Bella’s lack of character, development, and attributes. 
Seeing Bella from Edward’s perspective instead of vice-versa actually showed how kind, thoughtful, and selfless she is, all things that I had never really picked up on before. 
I still find her inexcusably dumb sometimes, but much of time during this book, Bella was actually far favorable to Edward or any other character, a blasphemous statement of irony if I had ever heard one. 
The payoff, however, is Edward’s reveal as not chivalrous, not gentlemanly, and not as wonderful as I remember. He’s arrogant, selfish, obsessive, and honestly? Downright creepy. 
The stalking reaches new levels of not okay, often with him trying to justify his less than criminal activities with the notion of her “safety” as the priority, which I found complete bullshit. 
I found Edward domineering, cold, aggravating, and lackluster, statements which would literally have made my old self sob, which I honestly did when Edward left in New Moon. 
I used to be an avid Jacob hater and lover of Edward to the extreme back in the day. Now, I would weep for joy if he left, root for Jacob all the way, and hope that the horrible name of Renesmee never needed to come to fruition in the first place. 
Oh, how the turns have tabled. 
Other than the atrocious length, my other large criticism came in the form of well...the book was naturally boring in my opinion. Meyer tries to create tension and moments of suspense, but...we already know what happens. 
We know the next few years actually. We know they get married, have a baby, and Bella gets turned into a vampire. So all moments of tension and suspense are unceremoniously tossed out the window. 
You might say, typedwriter, that’s unfair! We didn’t read this for the tension and suspenseful plot that we already know! We read this to get new information and insight into the Cullens and Edward especially. What do the Cullens do at home? How do they interact? What does this juicy insider insight look like?
Well, I still don’t know because we hardly saw any of it. 
I was the most curious about the Cullens as a family unit and more information into how they functioned, interacted, and cohabited. I even wrote a fanfiction back in the day about what freaking Esme did home alone because I was so intrigued by the idea, but nope! 
Edward was always stalking Bella 24/7 so almost no new information was gleaned about the Cullens, sucks for you. 
There would be little nuggets here and there, little bouts of cool information (Apparently Esme just stays home all day every day doing….nothing?), but not nearly enough to justify a 600+ page book of a recycled plot that we were already familiar with. 
I needed more from this book, craved all the little moments in between, and it was a letdown to the most extreme proportions. 
Recommendation: I didn’t really enjoy this read despite my past involvement with the series, my lingering fondness for the movies on a cold, rainy day, and the still sporadic delves into Twilight fanfiction that maintains its reputation of quality and characters. 
Twilight will always have a special place in my heart for what it did for me and the people it brought into my life, but I wish I had remembered Midnight Sun as the 12 chapters I read on Stephenie Meyer’s website when I was fourteen and infatuated instead of 26 and uninterested and unforgiving. 
Score: 4/10
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jensungf · 4 years
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𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐒 ☁ 𝐩.𝐣𝐬
summary: park jisung was supposed to be more than a passing cloud, than a fleeting moment. 
↳ (adj) describing something that doesn’t last as long as you’d like.
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pairing: reader + park jisung genre: high school!au, angst word count: 2.4k warnings: language
author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb but it kind of turned into a really long drabble or oneshot, whatever you wanna call it hehe. it’s been about two or three years since i last written something so i’m quite rusty but please enjoy and let me know what you think!
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“hey jisung, we’re still on for tonight right?” you chirped cheerily, not bothering to hide the cheeky smile adorning your face. you had been looking forward to this all week, and it was really hard not to show it. you skipped over to his side of the room, taking a seat besides him. 
you had been harboring a crush on your friend for god-knows how long (about a year actually) and had jokingly suggested that he owed you a movie date days ago during your weekly study session with him. to your pleasant surprise, he had agreed without any hesitation, and you had taken that as a sign that maybe — just maybe, he saw you as more than just a friend. maybe.
you frowned when you realized you hadn’t gotten a response and looked up to see jisung’s fluffy brown hair engrossed in his video game on his tablet. “hey! jisung!” you called out again across the desk. 
no reaction. 
you rolled your eyes and sighed before grabbing a pencil and lightly throwing it to get his attention. it hit his shoulder, causing him to finally glance up. he scowled and barked out a “what do you want?” before returning his concentration on his game.
“woah, sorry...” you felt awkward now realizing how annoyed he was. “i just wanted to ask if we were still on for tonight.”
he looked up again, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “what’s tonight?” 
before you even realize it, a deep scowl marred your face. how could he forget? you had been mentioning it all week now.
“you know, the movie...? the one you promised we’d watch together?” you asked eagerly, hoping his brain would get off of whatever game he was playing and return back to reality.
“oh. that.” his tone was indifferent and you couldn’t help but tense up in annoyance. he really forgot? “yeah, sure...” before quietly mumbling, “if i’m free.” 
you wanted to scoff at his dryness, but chose to be considerate and give him the benefit of the doubt. maybe he just wasn’t having a good day and he wanted to be left alone for now. maybe if you gave him some space he’d be in a better mood tonight. hopefully, you thought.
“i’m going to go, but i’ll text you, ‘kay?” you tried your best to smile despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach (the bad ones, the ones that looked pretty but were actually poisonous), but jisung doesn’t even bother to lift his head from the screen before muttering something that sounded vaguely like a bye. you sigh, and turn on your heel quickly. 
hopefully all would go well tonight.
you spoke too soon.
 ☁ 
you had texted jisung an hour or two before the designated time you both were supposed to meet each other at the movie theater, asking if he was free later to confirm that your plans and he had simply responded with “probably.” you would be lying to say that his offhandedness about this entire situation wasn’t bothering you at all but you had been so excited for this opportunity to finally spend some quality time with him that you were willing to overlook his odd behavior. 
you had decided to leave the house about thirty minutes before you were supposed to be at the movie theater, and quickly took your phone out to text him.
to: pwark jwisung♥︎ [6:04pm]
➤  hey i’m about to leave the house!  ➤ don’t forget to bring an umbrella. it looks kind of rainy outside
you peered outside the window, looking at the gloomy skies. however, you were determined that nothing was going to ruin tonight for you, not even some threatening grey clouds. by the time you arrived, you checked your phone again. you bit your lip in exasperation to see no notifications pop up, unlocking your phone only to see that jisung hadn’t even read your messages. maybe he was busy and simply saw it without opening the chat.
obviously, jisung wasn’t the most punctual person in the world, but you had specifically told him to come earlier than you days ago for that very matter. the weather outside seemed to be an omen, but you remained adamant. no stormy weather was going to ruin your time as long as you had jisung by your side. he was going to be here soon and you would have a good time, like you had hoped. 
to: pwark jwisung♥︎ [6:21pm]
➤  im here! are you here yet or are you on your way?
[6:30pm]
➤ ji?
you decided after nervously waiting outside the doors, watching the skies slowly get darker and darker (as if it was a sign of impending doom), that maybe it would be a good to finally call him. you had scrolled on your social media to pass time, and saw he was online. maybe something had happened?  
you tapped on your phone, letting the call ring only to wait for an automated voicemail of “hey it’s jisung, i’m probably busy rig— hey! jaemin! give me my phone back! oh my god, stop it, i’m trying to record a voicema—“
you felt your chest constrict as you took in a deep breath and exhaled shakily. there’s no way he forgot... right? you had just talked to him today about it. maybe his phone died or he was playing another silly prank on you and hiding somewhere. 
[6:43pm]
➤ hey idiot responddddd ➤ if this is some funny prank, come out! you win :(  
[6:57pm]
➤ come on ji, im actually going to get mad if you don’t show up soon >:( ➤ you were just on instagram like 15 minutes ago...? is something wrong? please let me know.
the number of strangers who passed by you who eyed you curiously increased, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with anxiety. you hated waiting alone, especially in public. it was nerve wracking and jisung knew it. your feelings of doubt and unease were creeping up behind you. maybe this was all just a bad nightmare and you’d wake up from it soon. 
the skies began to drizzle as you stood beneath the awning of the movie theater. your body was clammy and shivering. it was cold and you had forgotten your jacket and umbrella, despite even reminding jisung to bring himself an umbrella. just your luck.
you glanced at the clock ticking by, and you knew the showing of the movie had started long ago. however there was another showtime, so you tried your best not to fret. if he showed up soon, you could still watch the movie. if not, any other movie would’ve been okay with you. where is he? why isn’t he showing up?
you decide after waiting for almost 45 minutes that you should give him another call. it went straight to voicemail again. you felt tears finally begin to prickle in your eyes as you angrily typed out a message to him.
[7:12pm]
➤ jisung... if you were busy you could’ve just told me.  ➤ this really isn’t a funny joke at all. i’m actually pretty upset.  ➤ the last showtime is in 15 minutes, please text or call back.
frustration and betrayal overcame your body as you began trembling, trying your best to hold in your tears. the number of people entering had diminished, but you refused to let yourself cry in public. this was already humiliating enough as it was.
you decided as a last resort to call one of his friends, and you scrolled through your contacts before dialing na jaemin’s number. 
after a few rings, he picked up to your great surprise.
“hey (y/n)! what’s up?” 
“um, hey.. i-i was just wondering, if... jisung was with you by any chance...?”
you heard some shuffling around before he spoke up again. “uh yeah, he is actually. is something wrong...? you don’t sound okay.”
you bit your lip, holding in a sigh of relief because jisung was okay and alive before realizing that your tears were about to burst. you swallowed your tears and let out another shaky breath before answering.
“c-can i just talk to jisung please? he hasn’t been picking up my calls.” you sniffled, voice cracking as you gripped your phone tightly. 
jaemin frowned on the other end of the call before, managing to sense your urgency and emotion in your voice. “okay, give me a second,“  as he went to find the younger boy. 
“hey jisung, (y/n)‘s on the phone,” you could some hear yelling in the back before you heard some more shuffling and screaming. jaemin tried to cover his phone’s mic but you managed to pick up bits of the conversation anyways.
“what is it jaemin? i’m in the middle of a game right now,” jisung’s deep voice spoke in an irked tone. you would recognize his voice anywhere — what you once deemed to be soothing no longer brought the sense of comfort you needed right now.
“jisung, she called me saying ... hadn’t been picking up ... calls! tell hyuck.. play for you and talk ... now!” you could hear some groaning through the crackly audio, before jisung’s voice piped up on the line.
“um, hey (y/n) what’s up? why’d you call me... i’m kinda busy right now.”
your lips quivered along, feeling your heart fall before the dam actually broke. you croaked out, “park jisung.. don’t you remember what tonight was? i’ve been waiting for an hour and a half now! i thought you were dying or something.” 
jisung’s eyes widened before he sighed, “uh, shoot sorry. i’m busy with the boys right now and kinda forgot.” your tears dripped down your face as the raining outside ironically began to pour down harder at that very moment. you almost dropped your phone in shock. that was his reason for not making it? you felt as if your heart was being crushed, suffocated by jisung’s hands. how could he be so.. callous? 
“jisung, we’ve talked about this all week and you promised! i asked you this morning, and afternoon and i even texted you!” sobs began to wrack through your body as you could no longer contain it anymore. you tried to wipe the tears away as quickly as you could, not wanting anyone to witness your meltdown, yet to no avail. “how could you forget?”
jisung rolled his eyes and sighed. he didn’t know why you were just attacking him like this and interrupting him in the middle of a game. he retorted with irritation piercing his voice, “look (y/n), i don’t know why you’re being so dramatic but like it’s not that big of a deal. it’s just another dumb movie anyways, and i didn’t even really think these were definite plans. i said probably and things change, you know that.”
embarrassment flushed through your body, before anger replaced it. 
you swallowed harshly, feeling all self-restraint leave your body, all your anger and bitterness clouding your thoughts leaving you dizzy and breathless. “i can’t believe you... i waited for you because i thought.. that you were excited for this chance too.”
“my friends always come first, you know that! i thought i made that perfectly clear so why are you so upset?” jisung barked out, clenching his fists. he knew he was wrong but he was stubborn and irritated, wanting nothing more but to go back and claim his victory instead of wasting his time arguing with you.
you couldn’t believe your ears, your heart shattering as you took in every word he was saying. was this the same park jisung you knew and fell in love with? how could it be? you were an idiot for believing he actually liked you back, that you had a chance with him. he had always seemed untouchable, and now you were seeing his true colors. this clearly didn’t mean as much to him as it did to you and you had gotten your answer. 
“i have every right to be upset! you made a promise and you broke it. you left me hanging and blew me off, for what? games? there’s more to life than just playing video games with your friends jisung!” you bit your tongue, before continuing, your emotions blowing through the roof as they overtook your body. 
“i’m not just some girl you decided to blow off because you didn’t know. i never expected you to choose between me or your friends because i’m also your friend too. i thought we were friends but this shows how much you really care about our friendship. i waited here for you. i don’t want your bullshit excuse anymore, you can go play whatever games you want as long as they’re not with me. i’m not your toy jisung or a game, and you can’t win me like this. have a nice life.”
“wait (y/n)—“ you ended the call hastily,  not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth. 
you shut your eyes as you tightly to hold in the tears. if your whole world had been torn away to unveil a big, fat ugly lie in the end. this wasn’t the park jisung you knew. this was park jisung, the boy who you had fallen utterly and hopelessly for. the boy who made your heart flutter with his shameless laugh,  who spent hours awake at ungodly hours of night watching anime with you when no one else would. who would make fun of you but spend hours trying to teach you play video games or take you out to eat ice cream whenever he knew you were feeling down.who managed to lift up your mood with his incessant teasing that you grew to learn was just his way of caring, so effortlessly.
how could you be so foolish to work yourself up just to be devastated in the very end? you wished for this to be a nightmare. your hopes of fulfilling your dream date with the boy you had been pining after for the last year or so had been had been crushed. you looked up into the drizzling rain and grey clouds wondering where you had gone wrong. the clouds passed by fleetingly. you could’t help but laugh at how cliché this was. this was how you would remember your heartbreak, under a grey sky full of rain. and there was nothing else you could do about it.
he was nothing but a fleeting cloud passing by in your life.
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motherofheckers · 4 years
Text
Astraphobia
In which Jestro has a fear of storms.
Pairing: Claytro
Words: 1,227
⚠️There is one instance of strong language in this fic!⚠️
(Trigger warning for thunderstorms, obviously)
Loud. That was how Jestro would sum up the Lavalands. The involuntary gurgle of magma bubbling up to the surface had at first made him nauseous, as had the precarious scraping of rocks. They felt like a premonition for disaster.
However, the jester had gotten used to such noises within a week or two. Now, they simply faded into the background along with the incessant chatter of various scurriers and globlins. Did those things ever sleep? He thought they mustn't.
Tonight was different, though.
The rain felt as if it was attacking the castle from above, an attack with far more vigour than any of the knights' offensives. Static, Jestro thought, it sounds like radio static. Looking out of the window and trying to differentiate the individual drops would be an impossible task - the intensity of the shower had increased instantaneously and was only visible in chillingly cold sheets that would soak any fool who faced them to the bone.
He shuddered at the thought of being alone again during a storm like this. Being sat, huddled into himself under any scrap of shelter he could find: it was a thing of the past, he reminded himself. Hell, he hadn't been stuck like that since his Academy days.
How weird it had been, the first rainy night in that place. Jestro had been wide awake - as he was now - and he could hear the gentle pitter-patter outside. But he couldn't feel it. He wasn't shivering, he wasn't curling up to protect his body, he was... warm. Safe. He had a shelter and, though asleep, a friend nearby. He hadn't been used to that.
For as long as he remembered before, he'd been left to fend for himself. Of course, he figured there must have been someone who helped him through his first few years of life. If not, how could he have been alive? After all, infants couldn't beg or steal food. Whoever had helped him, the boy couldn't remember them. Not their face, not their voice, not their name.
A sudden flash knocked Jestro out of his thoughts. Oh, no. Brow furrowed, he approached a nearby window, however before he reached it he heard the low rumble he was praying he wouldn't.
The jester flinched at the noise. Almost as an angered response, the rain increased in ferocity. Well, he thought with wide eyes and erratic movement, this should be fun. Another flash and rumble emanated from the heavens, closer now. He sat on the floor and sank into himself, trying to keep his breathing steady. He was indoors, he wasn't going to wake up drenched and freezing.
Wait, was he shaking?
A hand brought up to his face confirmed this. Another crash, he jumped. Now his heart was beginning to beat faster. The apparent thunderstorm was surely on top of the castle now. Knowing he was indoors did nothing to soothe the boy, as his breathing hitched and his vision went blurry. He darted to his bed in the middle of the room as hot tears of panic began to drip down his face.
There was no way he could tell anyone. They'd make fun of him. He was evil, for Knighton's sake! He wasn't supposed to be afraid of something like this, he was supposed to revel in it!
And yet.
Jestro frantically crawled his way under the covers, clawing at his face in an attempt to battle the tears that were rolling freely now. He hiccuped and drew his knees to his chest as the storm continued to roar at him. God, what he would give to be able to text Clay. He always knew how to help. He had the feeling that Clay rarely, if ever, slept - he'd always text back within a minute or so.
But not now. Because Jestro had turned his back on his only real friend. He tried to believe the Book of Monsters when he was told the knights had never cared, really, he did! However, the jester's vitriol towards the blue knight was half-hearted at best, and unconvincing at worst.
He curled in further on himself. As the crashes and flashes of the storm went on, he stifled his sobs. Was anyone else even awake? If they were, did they even care? He turned over and stared at his phone on the bedside table. Dare he? Would Clay even answer?
What would Clay say?
What would he say?
...Fuck it.
He reached out an arm, shakier than ever, and grabbed his phone.
Clay's number. There it was. A short, shaky breath. And then:
「can I talk to you?」
Immediately, he cringed and let his mind wander to the worst possible way this could go. Clay would hate him. He was sure he would. God, why did he think this was a good ide-
『Are you okay?』
Well, he didn't plan this.
「no」
「it's the storm」
「there's a huge storm over here」
「i can barely breathe」
「i'm scared」
Silence for a few seconds.
『I'm going to call you, hang on』
His friend's contact flashed up on the screen. Jestro stared for a few seconds, hardly able to see the screen though the tears. Then he picked up and put the phone to his ear.
"Jestro? Jestro, are you alright?" Clay's voice was hushed and hurried, but coherent.
Jestro, on the other hand, could hardly form words.
"I-I-"
"Hey, hey, hey. You're hyperventilating, Jes. I need you to breathe, okay?"
The younger hummed shakily in response, and as the knight breathed slowly and steadily on the other end, he attempted to copy. Eventually, the jester's breathing would be back to normal, bar the occasional hiccup from crying.
"I... can't really believe I'm actually talking to you."
"...Me neither."
For a couple of seconds, only the patter of rain could be heard.
"Hey, Clay?"
"Yes?"
Jestro's tone softened. "Even if I don't know why you're doing it, thank you. For helping me, I mean. I... I really do appreciate it."
Clay's sigh whistled slightly through the phone. "You're still my friend. I do still care, Jes, even if we're on different sides.'
Jestro couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart at the nickname.
"Yeah..." he mumbled, barely audible.
He looked up and realised the raindrops had stalled to an odd little tap by now. A pang of guilt hit him suddenly. Only a few minutes had passed, right? Did he really need to interrupt Clay? Then again, Clay didn't really seem... bothered.
"Jestro, I can practically hear you overthinking over the phone." Clay said in a half-joking tone, "You really don't need to worry about calling me. Again, you're my friend. You can call on me whenever you're struggling, okay?"
He nodded before remembering he was on a phone call, and voicing his affirmation. Even though neither could see it, both boys smiled softly.
Jestro suddenly yawned - he hadn't thought tiredness would sneak up on him - and the thought occurred that it may be a good idea to sleep.
Clay picked up on this, and spoke quietly to the jester, reminding of simpler times in the Academy. As he noticed the other's breath steadying out again, he went to hang up.
But he couldn't help but feel he heard a hushed "I love you" on the other end before he did.
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drabbledragon · 4 years
Text
Linktober: Graveyard
Here’s the start of Nocturne of Shadows week!
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/65839948
Summary: A few Links have something in common, and wonder why that is.
Warnings: Mentions of death but nothing too graphic
Day 7: Graveyard
It was cold and rainy when the Links arrived in Legend’s Hyrule. It was good that they ended up so close to the castle, because a majority of them were unsure if they could go another half - day’s trip to the nearest inn with how exhausted they were. As soon as the castle guards caught sight of their resident hero, the group was immediately led inside with open arms and welcoming smiles, and had no qualms about bringing the Links to this Hyrule’s Zelda.
A full - course meal was a nice surprise for them. After they had gotten the chance to check in with the princess, the staff had eagerly ushered them into the royal dining room where every food known to man stood freshly prepared on the table, the warmth radiating from the meals almost palpable in the air. The afternoon was spent with light banter and hums of satisfaction as the heroes easily chatted with each other, enjoying the taste of real food and simply being grateful that they didn’t have to spend another night sleeping in a monster - infested forest. Soon late noon had turned into early evening, and the heroes took to doing whatever they wanted to do: from writing letters to reading books to whittling to sleeping, all the Links were busy doing something.
“Hey, you see that?”
Twilight stopped in his tracks and directed curious eyes towards Wild’s direction, following the latter’s gaze to where a castle window stood. He squinted past the clear panes to get a better look at what his protege was so interested in, and finally drew his brows together when he caught sight of a lone figure sitting in the heavy rain. 
He leaned forward as he noted, “ Red tunic, blond hair … that’s Legend, isn’t it? What’s he doing out there?”
The clack of heels didn’t become evident until they were just a few steps away from the two heroes, and both of them turned just in time to catch Fable, Legend’s Zelda, looking through the window alongside them.
She scrunched up her eyes as she searched around outside, and when she finally found the person of interest, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“It’s that day already, huh,” She murmured as she drew back. “ Felt like it’d only been yesterday since he last did this.”
The two others were quiet for a second, before Twilight hesitantly spoke up.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Princess, but I’d like to know why Link is outside on a day like this.”
“That’s none of your concern, now is it?”
The both of them were taken aback by the sharp words, but her tone held no bite. She appeared solemn and serious, not a single bit of her boisterous and mischievous personality to be found.
She soon continued her steady pace down the halls again, eyes trained carefully ahead as if the harsh rain outside did nothing to faze her; but before she was able to round the corner, she paused and quietly said,
“Link is at the Royal Graveyard, mourning someone he had lost two years ago.”
Her words were weighty, and they were enough to make Twilight and Wild feel like a wave had crashed down on them. They were at a loss for words, and neither of them made any move to pry more information from the princess or even bother to stop her from disappearing from view; the two simply stood there in stunned silence, acutely aware of the little rain droplets that dribbled down the window.
It was Wild who finally broke the silence when he said, “ I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“Wait, seriously? Don’t you think he could use a little alone time? He’s usually really keen about settling things on his own, especially when it comes to people.”
“I know that but I...” The Hero of Wilds bit his lip for a moment as he glanced between his mentor and the window. “ … but I just have a feeling. Listen, I’ll hang out there for a sec, and if he really wants to be left alone, then I’ll leave, okay? Promise.”
Twilight opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. If there was anyone that could deal with mourning and loss in the group, it was Wild, and if his instincts told him to go to Legend, Twilight wouldn’t even second - guess it. He held his breath as he watched his protege’s retreating form, hoping with all his heart that his cub was right on this one.
It didn’t take long for Wild to find the graveyard - just a left, a right, another quick left, down the stairs and he was there, the rain’s cold chill already beginning to settle in his bones. He carefully made his way through the neatly lined graves, and didn’t stop until he found Legend silently kneeling in front of a particular stone.
The Hero of Legend looked worse for wear: his blond hair was pasted haphazardly to his face and neck, and his red tunic was soaked with the rain from above and the mud from below. He looked weary from where he stood, and his shoulders were hunched forward as if the weight of the world were pressing down on them, forcing him back to the ground whenever he had an inkling of hope that he might be able to stand up and walk away. 
This was a different Legend, Wild frowned, not the gruff and testy teen they all knew and loved, but rather a young boy who had seen one too many destroyed towns, fought one too many battles, and saw one too many people die because of him. The Hero of Wilds felt his heart break at the sight.
“Go away.”
That was Legend’s voice, but his tone was low and raspy, holding none of its usual fire. Despite the other’s command, the champion tightened the grip on his cloak and took a step forward.
“Legend, you shouldn’t be alone here.”
“I want to.”
“You say that but you don’t mean it.”
“I do.”
“Look, I know what you’re going thro -”
“Hylia, Wild, just take the hint and leave!”
The outburst was enough to shut Wild up, and prevented him from taking another step. He stood quietly as he watched Legend’s head dip lower, and he had to strain his hearing in order to hear the other murmur out,
“Please, just leave.”
He could’ve sworn that it started to rain harder, like Hylia herself was crying for Legend’s loss. The graveyard became enveloped in a misty fog, and any semblance of the evening moon was covered up by gray clouds that refused to leave. The Hero of Wilds stood still for a few seconds before eventually settling himself on the muddy ground, just a row away from where Legend’s loved one resided. With a steadying breath, he began,
“I used to have a lot of friends and family, y’know. According to Zelda, I used to be one of the most loved soldiers in all of Hyrule, and the pride and joy of my family. I lived with my mom and dad and sister in a little house in Hateno, and the people there told me that I used to spend the whole day playing with the village kids until the sun setted. My dad was a knight, and the whole reason I was even discovered to be Hylia’s Chosen was because one of the visiting soldiers saw that I could wield a sword at the age of five. It’s kinda weird, right? Having a bunch of old guys watch a little kid wave a sword around.”
Wild looked up to see if his attempt at humor had worked, but Legend remained as still and silent as before.
“And Zelda said I was thrown into the army by the next night. She said she remembered me following my dad around like a lost puppy, and I barely talked to anyone, even when they were asking questions directly to me. I made friends with Mipha and Daruk really quick, and then Zelda and Urbosa and Revali; I wouldn’t talk to them no matter what, but Zelda said Daruk and Revali were doing most of the talking anyway, so it didn’t really matter. I would spend the whole day training instead of playing, and she said I almost never went home because Rhoam forced me to stay so I could protect the castle and the royal family. My dad went home to my mom and sister, and Mipha, Daruk, Urbosa, and Revali all went home to their families, and I was the only one left.”
“I was alone, and Zelda started to hate me because of how annoying I was. Soon everyone started to hate me because of how much Rhoam loved me, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it. I was told that since I was a hero chosen by the Goddess, I had to do whatever the kingdom wanted me to do, and whatever I thought didn’t matter; it was always protect Zelda and do whatever the king asked. I missed out on a lot: my childhood, my friends, my family, all because I was supposed to be some legendary hero.” He choked out a watery laugh. “ Now I can’t even remember any of that: I can’t remember my mom’s or my dad’s or my sister’s faces, I can’t remember how the soldiers used to treat me before they started to hate me, I can’t remember the places Mipha, Daruk, Urbosa, Revali, and Zelda used to take me - I can’t remember anything. I’m just some former champion that was nearly killed by the Calamity 100 years ago, and I have feelings that I can’t explain the reason of.”  
Wild’s throat grew tight with emotion, and he did his best not to let the sobs wrack his body. A small part of his brain reminded him that no, he shouldn’t be throwing himself a pity party, he should be comforting Legend, but he couldn’t help it. It was all so unfair: all the other Links could remember their friends and family even if they were long gone but Wild was the only one who couldn’t; all he could remember were fragments of his time under Rhoam and whatever his Zelda told him to be true. He was a blank and empty slate that could barely remember his friends and family but still held a myriad of emotions towards them. 
He wondered if he should just go on in life pretending that the last 117 years didn’t happen - that all the good and bad memories he had of his friends and families were all due to vivid fever dreams.
“My uncle died two years ago.”
The champion was caught off guard when Legend finally spoke, and although the former was barely holding it together, he did his best to listen to the other’s soft words.
“It was when I was on another adventure. I came back to the castle as soon as I was back in Hyrule, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw Zelda waiting there with my uncle’s sword and shield. She didn’t need to say a thing; by the way she looked at me, I knew what was up: my uncle was dead, stabbed by an Armos when he least expected it. She told me the death was quick, and that the soldiers travelling along with him made sure he died as comfortably as possible. They said his last words were ‘tell Link I’m proud of him’, but I don’t know if that’s what he actually said; maybe the soldiers were just trying to make me feel better.”
“I was locked up in my house for days, and no matter how many times the castle’s soldiers tried to break down my door and threaten me, I wouldn’t leave. I was depressed, and I didn’t want anything to do with Hyrule anymore. He was everything to me: he took me in when my parents were trapped in the Dark World, he taught me how to fight and wield a sword, and he gave me all the unconditional love I could ever ask for.” He tilted his head up to the sky, and Wild wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears falling from his face. “ I wonder if things would’ve changed if I was back home instead of out there adventuring - if I just became a regular soldier at Hyrule Castle instead of being a Goddess - forsaken hero.”
His frame was shaking, but his voice stayed strong and firm. “ I miss him more than anything in the world, but I don’t regret having any memories of him, and you shouldn’t regret having any memories of your friends and family either, no matter how little they are.”
It was ironic, the champion thought: here Legend and Wild were, two links in the same heroic chain, that were supposed to be selfless and loyal and a beacon of hope to the citizens of Hyrule, crying in a graveyard. They had been through their own set of adventures, faced their own trials and tribulations, but they both still had the same feelings as a citizen towards death. They were two broken kids who just wanted to enjoy a happy life.
Wild took in a shuddering breath and quietly asked, “ Do you think people die because we’re Chosen Heroes?”
Legend’s answer was short and simple, not an inking of hesitance in his voice, “ Yes.”
<Previous Next>
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writingdayandnight · 4 years
Text
Coincidences- Aaron Hotchner Imagine
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader; SVU crossover (kinda) 
Word Count: 1.3k
WARNINGS: Basic mentions of death, murder, the likes. Nothing graphic!
A/N: This is just something I’ve been thinking about recently, much like Hotch and his dreamy eyes. It’s a crossover with SVU in theory, but honestly you don’t need to watch the show to read. Let me know if I should make a part two or not!! I love your feedback 💗
You had been working with the BAU team for over a year now. Even within that short period of time, you had grown to love them like family. They reminded you of the slightly-more functional version of the team you left behind in New York. 
When you left New York, you made a promise to your friends and family that you would make an effort to take better care of your mental health. Now that’s a little challenging when you’re catching serial killers on a daily basis. Although, these cases tended to have a more satisfying conclusion than the ones you worked on with Special Victims Unit. Neither were ideal, of course. 
Garcia had just announced that there was a case, summoning you all to the conference room. You straggled behind the rest of the group, finishing up an email that needed to be sent. You weren’t the only one falling behind the pack, though. 
You had noticed that Hotch was in no particular rush to get to the conference room. He looked spaced out, as if his mind was in another place. Aaron Hotchner was no easy man to read, so for you to pick up on his behavior, he must really be distracted. 
“After you,” you said, meeting Hotch at the door. He gave you a simply nod and take his seat. 
Garcia dispersed the case files and presented what information was available. Three women from Eugene, Oregon had been killed in their homes, while their significant others had been on business trips. 
“That can’t be a coincidence,” Morgan remarked. 
“There’s no such thing as coincidences. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch sternly spoke, rising from his chair and leaving the room in a hurry. 
You looked at Rossi for an explanation. While you prided yourself on being able to communicate openly with your boss, nobody could read Hotch like Rossi.
“It’s been five years since Haley passed.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“Well, he’s not one to share. Take it easy on him this week. No heroics,” Rossi lectured, wagging his finger at you, as had been known to take a few risks. 
“I can’t believe you’re saying this to me when Derek is right outside.” 
The plane ride to Eugene was pretty typical. Although, you found your eyes fixed on Hotch. You couldn’t help but to sympathize with his pain. It was never easy to lose a loved one, let alone your significant other. 
As the case progressed, you recognized the unsub’s patterns and habits. He was a predatory stalker; you just needed to lure him out. Rossi proposed that Prentiss and Morgan play husband and wife for a day or two, just to see if he would attempt to break in. 
Reid stayed behind, narrowing down the suspect list, while you, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ staked out the place. You had been partnered with Hotch, which was a relatively common occurrence. There was chemistry between the two of you, a natural bond that with undiscovered origins. You were calm, collected, and logical much like Hotch. You were a little more adventurous, but nowhere near the same level as the rest of the team. 
The car was silent, except for the sound of rain pattering against the roof. You were in the driver’s seat, watching the house to see if there was any sign of the unsub. Hotch sat beside you, keeping an eye on the surroundings, a tense grip on his binoculars. One of you would reach for coffee, while the other would take a deep breath and regroup. You repeated this cycle for what felt like an eternity. 
At one point you noticed Hotch staring at his phone. You tried to catch a glimpse of what he was looking at without obviously violating his privacy. Finally, you decided it was time to break the silence. 
“How are you holding up?”
“I could use another cup of coffee,” he said, tucking is phone back into his suit pocket. 
“No, that’s not what I meant. Rossi told me what this week means to you. How are you holding up in that regard?”
He remained silent, staring out at the rainy street. He couldn’t produce an answer no matter how he tried. 
“Wanna hear my sob story?” You asked, ready to tell him your biggest secret since joining the BAU.
He simply nodded. 
“I lost my fiancé two years ago. Shot in the line of duty. It was his last day before transferring units. A month before our wedding.” 
You took a deep breath, mentally preparing to continue with the story. Hotch was quiet, allowing you to finish. 
“His name was Mike. Sergeant Mike Dodds,” you mused, “he was the sweetest guy, a big softie, but God, did he know how to play the bad guy. He transferred to SVU because his father wanted him to. Everyone hated him, but I saw something in him. There was this light in his eyes, this fire. It’s what I miss most about him.” 
You didn’t realize that you had a tear streaming down your cheek, until Hotch offered you a tissue. You wiped your tears, cursing yourself for being so dramatic. Hotch just reached over and placed his hand on yours, gently reassuring you that he was there. 
“I’d tell you it gets easier, but honestly? It just gets...different. You learned to live without them, but those feelings are still there,” his voice was barely audible. 
“I came to terms with it a long time ago. He wouldn’t want me wallowing in pity all of the time; he would want me to have a fresh start. Date new people, move to another city, take all the risks- within reason- that I never took before.” Now the rain had captivated you. “I always joked that we should have leave Manhattan and get a big log cabin in the Pacific Northwest. Have a bunch of dogs, maybe a boat, and live amongst the wilderness.” You wiped another tear from your rosy cheek, letting out a giggle, “But instead, I chose to move to humid D.C. and catch serial killers for a living.”
Hotch laughed, taking a sip of his cold coffee. You swore you saw a tear slid down his cheek as well, but you didn’t mention anything. Instead, you two just laughed cathartically for a moment. In that moment, you had forgotten all the pain you suffered before coming to the BAU. There was plenty in your life worth sticking around for. You liked to think Hotch felt the same. 
“Y/N,” he broke the laughter, “thank you. Thank you for always bringing your genuine self to every situation, for everything you do for this team...for everything you do for me.”
“It’s a coincidence that we found each other, almost like the universe brought us together.”
“There is no such thing as coincidences,” he replied, shifting in his seat. 
You were facing each other now. He had beautiful, brown eyes, you noticed. Even when they were glossy from crying, they were still beautiful. You recognized a light his eyes, one you thought was stolen from you two years ago. For the first time, you saw Hotch as someone other than your stoic boss who needed solved like a puzzle. You saw him as Aaron. Vulnerable, broken, and empathetic Aaron. 
If Rossi hadn’t ruined the moment with a radio call, saying they had caught the unsub, then you swore you could’ve kissed him. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You brushed it off as heightened emotions, but you couldn’t shake the feeling. What if the universe did put you and Aaron together? What if it was a sign that you were meant to be each other’s fresh starts? 
300 notes · View notes
angelisverba · 5 years
Text
did you miss me, angel?
in which y/n knows there’s something wrong with Harry, but it feels too good to care.
pairing: y/n and vampire!harry
word count: 13k+
warnings: mentions of smut, slight angst
note: this is the first time i post my writing on tumblr so please go easy on me :) also, this is unedited and a little but rushed .... but i hope you enjoy it!
It started with the unusually sharp canines
But they were just teeth, and on that night, y/n wasn’t looking for teeth. 
Hell, she wasn’t looking for anything on that Halloween night when she walked into that diner with a flickering light, dressed in that angel costume. All she wanted was a strawberry milkshake after the disastrous night at a haunted house she’d spent with ‘friends’. 
Those same friends who drenched her get up in ice cold water, making the fuzz of her halo compress and her white leotard stick rigidly against her tummy. With the help of her tears, her glittery pink eyeshadow has spread all over her cheeks and nose, making it seem like she had a constant blush going.
 And her hair? Oh, her hair was the only thing that had stayed intact. Shirley Temple’s synthetic blonde curls that bounced with every step she took, and jiggled sadly when the waitress asked her if she was alone. 
“And what can I get for you tonight honey?” asked that same waitress, pen poised uselessly on her notepad because all y/n wanted that night was:
“One strawberry milkshake,” and she added a pathetic little ‘please’ quietly.
Y/n waited with her head down, fingers picking at her cuticles, or at the tattered red leather seat. She didn’t look up when heeled boots and a long coat walked past her because how could she? How could she look up when her eyes were clouded with tears, and when they spilled out they no doubt worsened her appearance. God, she was so embarrassed and that only made her more upset. She was so stupid to have gone along. She should have stayed in to studying for her math exam like she was planning to when Alex and his stupidly cute crooked smile asked her if she wanted to tag along with him and his friends. Why did she think she was ever going to end up with a boy like him? Pull it together, y/n. Quit crying. 
Still, she didn’t look up. She hung her head like a dying flower. In that diner, with the lightbulb that wouldn’t stop flickering, and the refrigerator that buzzed a little too loudly. In that diner, with the chairs by the counter that squeaked with every move, and tables that were sticky with maple syrup no matter how many times they were wiped down, y/n was still the brightest thing there. Still so terribly sad, so sad that she sobbed, and her curls moved with every jolt of her shoulders, but still so terribly bright. 
Because her tutu had sparkles in it, and her little white dorothy shoes were the purest shade of white there could ever be. And because her eyeshadow had glitter in it and now it was all over her face. Her face that glistened pink with glitter and tears. Truly a sight to see, when that same heart shaped face lifted to drink from the strawberry milkshake that  had been set down in front of her by the waitress looked at her with pity when she’d said she was alone.
Truly a sight to see, when that same girl with lips puffy from nibbling at them in order to keep her sadness in, wrapped those same lips around the red and white paper straw, and hallowed her pink cheeks because the shake was thick and it was taking a lot from her to even get a sip. 
A sight to see when this girl made the mistake of looking up, after she had spent all that time looking down, and connecting eyes with the most handsome stranger she had ever seen, sitting three booths down from her. Connected eyes while her cheeks were hallowed and oh so pink, eyes red, and puffy red lips. 
Truly, a sight to see because her eyes widened, and she sputtered out the little she had managed to get out of that ridiculously skinny straw, so that it was smeared all over her bottom lip. She scrambled to get a napkin, to stick her little fingers in the napkin dispenser, only too find it completely empty because what little had been inside it was spread and crumpled all over the table. She plopped down into her seat with a huff, and brought those same fingers up to her lips, and scooped up the mess in the space between her lower lip and chin while thinking about the man she had just seen. 
He’d looked straight into her eyes when she glanced up. And even though y/n was seated three booths away from him, his emerald green eyes hypnotized her like he was a snake charmer, and she a hopeless cobra. The man, and a man clearly from the rugged stubble on his chin and upper lip, held a newspaper in his hands, his face tilted down towards it, but eyes locked on hers before she had even seen him. A stray piece of hair dangled between his eyes victoriously, having managed to escape from the rest of his loustorus chocolate curls. His sharp jaw clenched, and y/n saw a muscle flex in the small moment she had observed him. 
He’s mad, she thought, I’m disturbing him. And she knew this because his eyebrows were pulled tightly together, his own pink lips tipped downwards, and his broad shoulders heaved up and down slowly, like he was trying to control himself. 
Y/n instantly blamed it on her obnoxious drinking. She’d been making noise right? And he’s clearly trying to read his newspaper. Here you go again y/n! This is why Alex and his friends fucki-
“Y/n? Is that you?” 
Y/n’s back instantly straightened ,and her eyes to widen. She feels her heart starts to pound, and her palms start to sweat, and holy shit why is Alex here? 
“I thought this is where you had run off to.” He slides into the seat opposite her, blocking her panicked stare with the stranger three booths away, who’s jaw only clenched harder when her eyes connected with his again.
“Go a-away, Alex.” Y/n stammered, her throat knotting and eyes welling.
“Oh, come on, y/n.” Alex flashed her a crooked smile, but it was no longer cute to her and all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “The guys are waiting outside, let’s go.” Then, Alex got up, and grabbed her tiny wrist in his hand, and tried to pull her up. Y/n yelped and attempted to pull her hand back.
“Let me go, Alex! I’m not going back with you.”
“Quit being fooli-” Alex only pulled her harder, and spoke through gritted teeth, no longer caring about whether he hurt her or not. He tugged her so hard, y/n’s body ended up on the checkered floor, full-on crying at that point, sprawled on all three’s because her wrist was in Alex’s grasp.     “I believe the lady said to let her go.” rumbled a deep, sultry voice. And Alex did let her go, not willingly, but because he ended up on the floor next to her, nose bleeding.
“Excuse me!” The waitress that asked y/n if she was alone, yelled at them angrily for causing havoc during her shift. “Take this outside or I’ll call the-” She had the phone raised threateningly but,
“No need, Brenda. This man was just leaving.” And y/n looked up to find the source of the voice, once again locking eyes with the handsome stranger who sat three booths away from her. He was looking at her with so much intensity, she didn’t see Alex leave. 
He didn’t outstretch a hand to help her up. 
No, he picked her up from her position on the floor, and sat her back on the booth. 
Once again, y/n found herself looking down at her lap, this time cradling her left wrist because it was already swelling from the impact it had taken upon bracing her weight against the floor. Her translucent white leggings were torn on her knees, and dirty on her shins. A straw wrapper was stuck to her ankle.
“Are you going to drink your milkshake, little angel?” said the same voice, this time almost crooning at her in the same british accent that had kicked Alex out of the diner. Slowly, y/n listed her gaze, moving from her hands, to the edge to the table, to the bottom of the milkshake glass, and traveling from the hands that were clasped together, to the silver cross on a chain around his neck, to his lips, and finally… to his eyes. 
Eyes that looked at y/n with such gentleness, she could almost feel the caress against her skin. 
“I asked you a question, darlin’” he rasped, leaning on his elbows and coming closer to y/n, wraps her arms around herself and ducks her head again. “‘Is not nice to ignore a person they way your doin’” he said, his burning gaze warming y/n’s blushing cheeks.
“No,” she mutters, choking on her words and feeling a burning behind her eyes. She was going to cry again. She had no reason to cry, yet to her, it seemed like she had every reason to. She was alone at a shitty diner, her craving for a milkshake gone sour and her wrist hurt like a motherfucker. 
“What was that?” the man says. 
“I said,” y/n’s voice cracks, and what little reserve she had left come crashing down. “I d-don’t w-want it a-anym-m-ore.” She’s hiccupping on every word, and her tears are trickling streams down her cheeks.
“Alright, no more cryin’, angel.” His hand twitches, like he wants to reach out and hold her, but something’s holding him back. “You’ve been cryin’ since I got here. What’s got you so upset?” 
Y/n looked up again because his voice is just so soft and smooth it reminds her of a rich cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day, and she saw his hand twitch. She has his hand twitch and even though he was a stranger, she still wanted to be comforted. 
She looks up with wide teary eyes, and the man in front of her gives her a smallest of smiles. So small, it almost appeared to be a wince, like he didn’t know how to curve his lips up in that gesture.
And that’s when she sees them.
Two small, pointy white teeth. But she blew it off because even her own were slightly sharp, and because that smile stopped her heart. This man, that had sat in front of her, was intimidating, serious, and she didn’t know him. But at the same time, he took her breath away because he was simply ethereal. From his attire, to fine to a diner, all the way down to his perfectly placed mole on the right corner of his mouth.
“I don’t even know you.” She says, her voice small and head tilting sideways, a curl swaying between her eyes like his stray curl.
“‘M name ‘s Harry.” Harry leans back, resting his arms on the booth behind him. His coat opens up, and y/n can see that the red shirt he was wearing was hardly buttoned up, and the cross necklace he was wearing rested teasingly between the divot of his strong pectoral muscles.  “Wa’s yours, angel?” He said to her, his voice as close to a cat’s purr as it could be, and it made y/n visibly shiver. This made him smirk wide, one corner of his lips pulling up higher than the other. 
He knew exactly what he was doing, and y/n knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. And frankly, this may have excited her just a bit. Only because the boys she had been with earlier that night were pieces of shit that didn’t know what they were doing, and while this man could be a serial killer, y/n was far too physically and emotionally exhausted to care about the rules. 
“Y/n.” She sniffled, her tears slowing down but her heartbeat accelerating.
“Well, y/n, I’m all ears if you would like to talk about what made you cry.” With a long, slender, finger, he pushes the nearly untouched milkshake towards her, and y/n reaches out with shaking hands to take a harsh slurp while avoiding Harry’s pressing green eyes at all costs. 
And so she did.
She told him about Alex, and the way he had seemed so sinceres, and how she thought that for once a boy was actually into her. How it all went town hill, and how they drenched her completely in ice cold water. How she walked in the cold that dried her all up, and ended up in this diner. 
Somehow that turned into a nightlong conversation of anything and everything. Y/n got to hear this stranger laugh once, and it was truly the most beautiful thing she had seen and heard in her entire life. His laugh sounded like suppressed sunshine. Like it didn’t get to be heard so often. The corner of his eyes crinkled lightly, and his eyelids closed together like half-crescent moons. He belted, opening his lips wide enough that y/n could practically read the ‘ha 's off his lips. And his teeth, slightly crooked white teeth; his two front ones noticeably larger than the others, like a bunny’s. Also like a bunny, his nose that twitch each time he tried to suppress his smile. 
Eventually 3am came around, and Harry stood abruptly, saying that he had to leave and a quick ‘it was nice talking to you’ in the middle of y/n telling the story about how she bypassed 10th grade english by comparing everything  to current world events. 
Y/n sat there, stunned, embarrassed, and slightly angered. She asked for the check after a few minutes of basking in his rejection, only to be told by the waitress asked if she had come in alone,
“The gentleman already paid for it, honey.”
Then it was his skin. 
Exactly three weeks later, y/n found herself napping in a ring of hazy bliss. After an exhausting five hour expedition, y/n made it to the clearing all the way at the top. 
She’d been a usual at the riverbed hike for two years now, and one of the rangers who worked at the reserve had told her about the meadow with glowing blue flowers. He’d even given her a map and a list of animals and insects to watch out for. 
So, she’d made a day out of it. Made sure she was up to date with the material she needed to know for her classes, and told her roommate where she’d be and to please not have sex on her bed. All she had taken with her when she departed at 6 am that day, was a thick sleeping bag, a net long enough to encase her whole body, and a basket of food. The rager told her there weren’t any bears in the area, all other animals went in their holes for the night, and the ones she needed to watch for weren’t native to the area. 
She was careful on her climb. Not to brush against poison ivy, or poke against any sharp looking twigs. Her footing was sure, and her energy ready to be depleted. In the end, her passage through the steep and shady trails amongst the trees had been worth it, because at the top, was the most beautiful field of budding flowers. 
The clearing occupied the entire tip of the hill, so the only thing there was to see was the sky and the trees around the open, grassy fields filled with flowers that looked like closed blue poppies. There was a single, massive willow tree, right dead center of the plane, with leaves that hung like long sleeves that kissed and teased at the ground.  Underneath this tree, y/n set up her small campsite. She laid out a thin sheet, and on top of that her pink sleeping bag. 
Completely, and utterly salivating from how hungry she was, y/n sat in a spot that wasn’t largely populated by flowers, and set the net around her so she wouldn’t have to worry about swatting flies away from her food. The net was almost tent like, so she didn’t have to worry about ants either because she would be completely encapsulated by the material. 
She pulled out her phone to quickly check the time, because it was really useless for anything else, with there being no signal and all. 11:55 am, reads the clock. She tossed it to the side, and began to take the items out of her basket. Crackers, cheese in the shape of a circle coated in wax, apple slices, pasta, and pre-opened bottle of champagne that had collected moisture on the outside of the green glass. Y/n had taken advantage of this break, and packed a meal she’d always wanted to eat in a place like this. Her cheese and champagne hadn’t gone bad because she had packed it in a separate compartment that had a cooling lining. 
She ate her pasta, a recipe that she perfected her last year of high school with the help of the culinary arts teacher at her school, and sipped on her champagne. Sweet bubbly tones of pink alcohol rested on her tongue for a moment, before flowing enticingly down her throat. This was chased by the apple slices, and tiny chunks of creamy cheese.
In that moment, she was in heaven. The sun shined on her face, dancing on her nose, and kissing the space between her eyelashes. Her fingers traced the petals of the flowers next to her, feeling the cool, waxy feel of the leaves that hadn’t yet blossomed. There, amongst the wild green grass and in the middle of her third glass of bubbly, she laid in her little net tent and fell asleep with a sweet taste on her tongue. 
For hours she dreamed of green irises and teasing pink lips in the afternoon sun, her plans for reading the tattered romance novel she picked up at the used bookstore completely vanished. In her sleep, she was unaware of the bunnies that came and sniffed at her little cocoon. They stood on their hind legs, and placed their pink paws on the net, barely making a dent as their little noses twitched eagerly and their ears perked on full alert. 
In her sleep, she laid unaware that the handsome stranger who had sat three booths away from her, lurked in the trees and watched her chest rise and fall peacefully. 
His white shirt was once again, barely even buttoned and tucked in to his brown trousers. His hair was tousled, and that damned lock of hair kept getting between his eyes while he tried to watch this angel sleep. 
A creep, he thought to himself. I’m a creep. Leave, Harry. You have absolutely no business here. 
Oh but I do, crooned the devil on his left shoulder. Just look at her. So pure. So innocent. And she looks so fucking pretty, and all I want to do is move that piece of hair away from her luscious lips so it doesn’t flutter this way and that everytime she breathes out. 
Harry wanted to hold her every time her breathing hitched, and fucking shit he didn’t know why because he didn’t even know the girl. 
He needs to leave. Before it’s too late and before she yells bloody murder when she find out what he really is, because that’ll really break his-
“Harry?” she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked more than she needed to because holy shit, what is he doing here. “Is that you, Harry?” Y/n frantically pulled down the zipper of her net, and scrambled out to search through the trees across the clearing because she really thought she’d seen Harry. 
And she was right. It was Harry. 
Harry who stood clad in a white shirt and fitted black pants, leaned against one of the trees. 
He looks better than last time, she thought to herself. Hadn’t he heard her? There was no other noises that the chirping of birds and she’d spoken loud and clear. Was it the champagne playing out her wildest dreams?
No, no it had to be him because he moved, and walked towards her swiftly. Y/n was frozen in place by his dominance. He held himself tall and proud, his shoulders and legs moving a way that said ‘do not get in my way’. 
But he stopped in his tracks right before the fading orange light of the sunset hit his skin. He looked down at his shoes, the tip of his red pointed loafers gleaming in the sunlight. 
She watched him as he shook his head at himself ludicrously, and stepped with confidence out into the sun.
What she saw made her gasp. 
His skin. He’s an angel. He’s an angel and I’m dead. Because only angels glow like that. Harry’s skin looked like millions of diamonds were penetrated into every pore of his skin. A hazy, white light exuded off of him, making him look like a god in a renaissance portrait. 
“Harry, you’re glowing!” She gasped, eyes and jaw wide open.
Harry threw his head back and laughed at her, the skin of his neck glimmering invitingly. “Angel, how much did you have to drink?” His lips curved upwards, exposing his sharp teeth, and with gleaming skin… no. 
Y/n looked at the basket inside the tent, the champagne bottle tipped to its side, next to where her head rested. Empty. She drank the entire bottle? No..no,no she swore there was still more than half left when she fell asleep.
“I-I don’t even remember…” she trailed off, completely lost in thought.
“Enough to black out huh?” He stood right in front of her, and y/n can’t catch her breath because Harry’s glowing and she doesn’t remember drinking an entire bottle of champagne. She looked up at him, and her nose nearly touched his lips. “So, what are you doing up here all by yourself?” 
Y/n’s ears started to ring in that moment, and maybe it was the fact that Harry’s a beautiful creature standing oh so very close to her, or she was too high up and had too much to drink, but everything went black and her body sloped to the ground.
    She had no idea how long she was out, or how she got back into her little tent, and this time Harry was lying next to her. And he was staring at her. He was on his side, chin resting on his palm, eyes searching hers the moment she woke. His profile was illuminated by a bright blue light. Was he glowing blue now? Holy shit, Harry glowed.
    “‘Sabout time you wake up,” he rasped. “You’re gonna miss the blooming flowers.” 
    Y/n got up from her position on the floor, amazed because her head didn’t hurt and she wasn’t sore anywhere. That must have meant that harry caught her when she fell, and carried her into her tent and then laid beside her because she was 100% sure she was nowhere near the tent when she fainted.
    What is going on?, she thought to herself. Why is this man, who abruptly left her in a diner, here, at a place that really hard to get to and also extremely off the radar. And why was he beckoning her out of the tent with his eyes, that looked as mad as the day she met him? Had she done something wrong again? Did she snore while she was unconscious? This was supposed to be a time for her to relax and get away from all her problems. Now, here she was, with one of her problems standing right in front of her.   
    “C’mon now, love. “ Harry’s bends down to the entrance of the tent, where y/n is sitting looking confused and he’s looking passive. He holds his hand out to her, and to his slight surprise, and hers too, she takes it and lets him lead her out of the net.  
    “Harry, what are you doing here?” Y/n questioned him. 
    “Was just taking a stroll around the area,” He says, his eyebrows forever drawn over his eyes, and lips slightly pursed.  
Around the area? It took y/n 5 hours to get here, and she’d seen no one else around taking a ‘stroll’. 
She was just about to ask him rapid fire questions about why he was following her, and who was he and what did he want and why did he leave that day at the diner, but he placed his forefinger and thumb on either side of her chin, and directed her face to the blue light. 
Just like the ranger had said, all the flowers were blooming underneath the moonlight. Different shades of blue, magenta, and purple surrounded them both; buzzing to life with a soft hum. Lightning bugs traveled from flower to flower, feasting on the luminescent petals. Roots in the ground radiated through the dirt, connecting like streets in a city. They all flowed in the same direction, leading up to the willow tree, whos leaves lit up like led light strips. 
Y/n had never seen anything like it before. She was sure that it wasn’t real.
“Oh, but it is.” Harry whispered in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek. When had he gotten so close? Did she speak her thoughts without realizing it? As quick as he’d gotten close to her, Harry distanced himself, and walked back to the tent, to grab the few apple slices she’d left on her plate. Y/n watched him pick up the now-brown fruit, and as he offered them to her with a stony expression. “Here, you must be really hungry.” 
“I-I don’t want it.” She was caving in on herself, scared.  Because she realized that up here in this serene atmosphere where there was no one else but him and her, anything could happen and no one would know. And she didn’t believe him one bit, that he’d been up here on a stroll. 
Harry must have sensed this, because he sighed in defeat and said “Have you got a bone to pick with me, darling?” He rearranges his stance, spreading his legs shoulder width apart, and folded his arms across his chest in a way that made his biceps bulge against the white longsleeve he was wearing. “‘Cause the look you’re giving me is awfully mean.” He stepped closer to her. Closer and closer until y/n had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. Wisps of his chestnut hair tickled the bridge of her nose, the collar of his shirt brushing against the skin of her neck, making goosebumps prickle and the hairs of her neck stick straight upwards. 
Truth was, y/n didn’t have a single mean bone in her body. And the ‘look’ she was giving was anything but mean, no, if anything Harry was the one with the fierce look. She was cowering, intimidated, afraid. This could go a million and one ways, and all the ones y/n was thinking about weren’t happily ever after‘s. 
“N-no,” the poor girl was shaking, like the thinnest leaf amidst a tornado. “I-”
“What is it?” Harry smirks, reveling in the power he had over her. “Cat got your tongue?” Their tension was thick, the blooming flowers already forgotten. All she could think about was how similar their position would look to the couple on the cover of her romance novel, if only he would put his arm around her waist, and lips on her throat. She thought about the way his lips were close to hers she could feel their warmth. The way his eyes were boring into hers with such intensity, asserting the fact that he’s the one in charge. The one in the highest position, and she could try her best to overthrow him but she would always be vulnerable. With his eyes, he laid her bare, reading her all the way down to the tips of her toes. 
This? 
This frustrated her. So much so that she stomped like a child who had been denied dessert as their meal, and stormed back to her sleeping bag underneath the canopy of the glowing weeping willow. It wasn’t until she got to her spot by the large roots and heard the leaves rustling as their indication that someone else had gone through them, that she realized what she did was stupid and childish and Harry could easily follow her. 
“Angel,” Harry’s voice is much softer now, his arrogant tone completely gone and replaced with a worried one. “What is it?” 
“I don’t know!” Tears began to well in y/n’s eyes, because she really didn’t know. She didn’t know of the uneasiness of her stomach had to do with nervousness of what could happen in a place like this, where no one would be able to hear her scream for miles if it ever did come to that, or if it had to do with this- this feeling she felt every time she thought about him, about their moment at the dinner. “I don’t know what it is and that’s what makes me upset.” 
She didn’t. She was a jumble of tingles and stomach drops because Harry was confusing her so much in that moment and oh god she can’t breathe. Her chest was moving up and down, going through the motions, but she wasn’t getting any relief; like her throat was a punctured straw and what she needed was escaping through that hole before if reached her pulmonary system. Puffs of air were coming out of her open mouth, her shoulders haunching, and her hand coming to rest on her chest before she dropped to the floor on all fours, Harry immediately appeared next to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing them back so her back would straighten out, and pulled her from the waist so she would sit on her butt. 
“Breath with me, y/n.” Harry wrapped his hands around her waist, making it so her chest was flush with his front. “Listen to me, feel my breathing, okay? Match my breathing now, darling.” But it didn’t work. The only thing his proximity did was alter her senses even more; make her heart palpitate at the higher than higher rate it should’ve been. Black began to spider out from the corners of her eyes, fading in on her vision, disabling yet another one of her senses because her ears had been ringing and she could hardly hear what Harry was saying. 
And this is another thing. Y/n didn’t know what to call it in that moment, but it blew her mind. 
    “Close your eyes,” He whispered into her ear. “Listen to the waves,” And they weren’t anywhere near any waves, but when y/n closed her eyes, instead of being met with the black and blue dots behind her eyelids, she saw the most beautiful beach. White sand, as soft as the tufts of hair on the cat she stopped to pet on the street that one time. Silky and smooth between her toes and against the bottoms of her feet. The sky was the color of a peach; a mix of oranges and light pinks with dark red sat the edges, clouds the texture of the fuzz on the fruit’s skin.  Water, the clearest baby blue she’d ever seen, transforming into white of the sea foam tips of the waves.
    Y/n could hear the waves. A soft whisper of shh-ahh and trickling of water retracting from shore. The bubbling fizzles of sea foam melting into the creamy sand. She wanted to run through it, to feel it sloshing against her skin, but… something was holding her back. A grip around her waist that didn’t budge the first two times she tried to go to the calling shore. The third time, she struggled against the bond, she was let go and met with a bit of a trip from the power she had used pushing against the force. She picked herself up, and bounded towards the calm waters.  
She stood alone, getting closer and closer to the water and letting it touch the tips of her toes, expecting to feel the cool yet scratchy graze of the salt water mixture, but instead she feels... grass?
No, this can’t be, she thinks to herself. Y/n even bends down to touch the water, she’s watching it touch her fingers but she could not feel a thing. 
     Why couldn’t she feel anything? It was like eating with a burnt tongue, you put food in your mouth but didn’t taste anything. 
“What the hell?” she said to herself, standing up straight to asses the situation as best as she could. 
“It’s not real,” grumbled a familiar deep British voice. To her left, was Harry. “Come back to me, now, y/n.” His curls were floating in the chilly breeze, wisping and warping around his face, his open shirt moving the same way the waves were. 
    Y/n closed her eyes again, breathing deeply, not understanding what he was saying and ready to argue, but when she opened her eyes, she was back under the canopy of the weeping willow, illuminated by the glow of the flowers behind the curtain and the fluorescent stems of the hanging leaves. Harry standing no more than five feet away from her, leaning against the wide tree trunk next to here, where she stood on a patch of mossy grass. 
    “You’re a real doozy when you’re tipsy y’know tha’?” He’s picking at his lips with his ring-clad fingers, pulling at his bottom one and letting it pop back into place. “Y’alright now?” Not unlike the first time they met, he asked her what happened because ‘darlin’ it looked like you were seeing’ something tha’ wasn't there’.     And y/n, blinking out of her little day-dream (though it was hardly day-time) said, “I could’ve sworn you were telling me to ‘Listen to the waves’” She dropped her voice down a few octaves, and dragged her tongue to mimic his british rasp, “and when I opened my eyes, I was at the beach.” Harry gave out a low ‘huh’ upon watching her blearily slump against the trunk of the willow while she explained that she envisioned.
    “No darling,” He assured. “I got you to calm your breathing down, then you practically yanked y’self out of m’grip. Then you walked o’va to that patch o’grass r’there, and gent down to touch it.” Harry shrugged carelessly, and crouched down in front of her, watching her through hooded eyes as she stared off into space again, in complete disbelief at what had just happened because first she could’ve sworn Harry was glowing, and now this? 
    “Was’ this?” Harry grinned provocatively, holding the romance novel in his hand, waving it in y/n’s face and successfully managing to snap her out of her reverie. “Didn’t spot you for the clinch novel type. Thought these w’just fa’ women in th’middle of crisis.”
“Hey, give me that!” Y/n scrambled up from her spot, and launched herself at Harry who was still crouched and didn’t have much balance. When the girl reached for the novel, he pulled back from her grasp, causing her to place her hand on his bare, cold chest, and he to fall backwards, in turn causing her to fall with him. 
Y/n somehow ended up straddling him, her chest heaving as she saw where her hand was. On. His. Bare. Chest. The other in between his head and the hand that held the book. Her focus was no longer the book, but how smooth and hard Harry’s skin felt underneath the part of her hand that wasn’t touching the silk shirt.  Peeking just barely from the buttoned part of his shirt was a patch of inked skin that gleamed at y/n enticingly. Almost instantly, she had to suppress the urge to pull his shirt down to see the rest of the tattoo.
    Ever so slowly, she trailed her eyes from his chest, to his inviting neck, and then to his lips. Pink lips slightly parted, realising short puffs of air that matched her own. She saw the sharp incisors that caught her attention at the diner; teeth as white as milk, and sharp enough that y/n thought they could puncture skin. 
    Then y/n’s eyes slitted from his lips, to his eyes, that bore themselves into hers. The usually emerald green irises were now a stormy dark green, the color of the forest on a cloudy day. 
    “I think,” Harry rasps, his hot breath hitting y/n’s lips like vapor from a hot cup of tea. “He looks a bit like me.” His wrists waves the book slightly, and she drags her eyes from him to the cover photo. The rogue, holding the maiden, wore an outfit exactly like Harry’s in that moment, had the same jawline that clenched when it saw her cry that day at the diner. Lips heart shaped and pink like taffy. Muscles that bulged but not as dramatically as most men on the cover of these novels. A curly head of brown hair that flowed freely in the wind of the pirate ship.    
    And vibrant green eyes that were slightly hooded as he teasingly traced those taffy lips on the woman’s neck, who, judging by the look on her face, was clearly enjoying it. 
    “Did y’choose this one because y’missed me, angel?” Harry teased, smirking deviously at her rapidly reddening cheeks. 
    “N-no I didnt.” She tried to push herself off of him, but Harry was quick to drop the book and use that hand to wrap it around her waist, and pull her back down with enough force to knock all the way down. So her chest was tight against his, her stomach against his own, and she could feel the muscles rippling as he pushed himself up with his free hand. 
    “S’not nice to lie, darling.” Y/n wasn’t sure if Harry could hear how her heart sped up every time he called her ‘darling’ or ‘angel’. Or if he could feel the butterflies fluttering madly in her ribcage, fueled by those pet names. “Tell,” He brought his face closer to hers, “me,” Closer, so the tips of their noses were touching. “The truth.” His eyes locked on hers, searching for an answer, for approval. “Did you miss me?” This time, it wasn’t just his breath that she felt fanning on her the span of her lips and chin, but she could smell mint on his tongue. Every movement that his lips made, she felt it, caressing against her own. 
    Y/n swallowed thickly, her hands grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s silk shirt, not caring if she wrinkled it or not because whatever happened next, whether he kissed or humiliated her, she needed to brace herself. 
    “Yes,” She breathed, “I missed you, Harry.” 
    And that’s all the answer Harry needs to press his lips against hers, both of them feeling as if stars are colliding as their lips did. Their lips brushed against each other softly, gently, like butterfly wings fluttering; coming just close enough that he could inhale the gusts of air that left her lips.  Harry was reveling in how warm her lips felt against his; how sweet the remnants of champagne and apple and just her, tasted on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of it. He needed more. More explosions, he needed the galaxy to combust and he wasn’t going to get that with the playful licks they were exchanging. 
    So he pressed harder against her mouth, mushing his against hers like he wanted to destroy them. She reciprocated his harshness, not caring about the scratches Harry’s stubble left on her skin, her hands moving to frame his face, loving the feel of his smooth, milky skin. Her tongue fought against his, tasting the mint and champagne? Subtle traces of champagne lingered on his tongue, his tongue that licked into her mouth like flames. The hand was wasn’t holding Harry up, grasped the back of y/n’s neck, as if to keep her from escaping. 
    Their dance went on for a few moments, until y/n needed oxygen. She pushed on Harry’s chest a few times because he just didn’t want to unlatch from her. When they both did separate, Harry’s eyes stayed closed until she spoke again.  
    “Did you miss me, Harry?” Y/n panted, searching Harry’s eyes, wondering why he still had that stony expression on his dreadfully handsome face. She hummed when Harry’s eyes opened, quirking an eyebrow up at him, giving him a sated puffy-lipped smile. 
    Harry smirked at her, “I missed you, little angel.” He fixed his grip on her waist, and lifted her so he could turn their positions. She, lying beneath him, and he, hovering above her. “Now give me another kiss.” And she did. She returned her hungry licks for hours, and eventually her lips went numb from often they were rubbing against Harry’s, and how cold it was getting. 
“Harry,” she said amidst kisses, “it’s getting-” Harry groaned in protest as she separated herself from him, “cold. Let’s get in the sleeping bag.” 
    He quirked a brow at her this time, “You want t’get into bed w’me, dove?” Y/n’s stomach somersaulted at the name, a pink blush like the smeared pink eyeshadow, spreading on her cheeks. 
    “You’re a real scoundrel, you know that?” She tucked her head into the crook of his head bashfully. “M’cold.”
    “Alright, lets go to my place then.” He sits up, with her on his lap. She slides down his torso and she becomes hyper aware of the fact that her crotch was against his. 
    “You’re place? Right now?” Y/n asked, trying not to let her emotions show through her tone in anyway. 
    “Yes.” He nods. “When I said I was taking a stroll, I wasn’ lying.” 
    So, Harry picked up her things with one arm, and held her close to him with the other. Though, she wasn’t getting any warmth from him, because he was cold to the touch as well. Y/n followed him through the now dimming flowers, and out into the trees where he had been watching her sleep. They made what seemed like random twists and turns, and at one point they climbed over a large oak tree that had fallen over. Harry grabbed y/n by the waist and helped her down while she suppressed a blush. 
    Covered in a ring of trees, was Harry’s house. A cozy little cottage with curved cedar shingles on the roofing and a red brick chimney. She definitely hadn’t expected a cobblestone trail leading up to a white-clapboard house shrouded with rose shrubs, and windows, windows everywhere. It was a small quaint place, with a white picket fence that was useless in the middle of the woods.
    “Welcome to my home.” Harry opens the little gate proudly, sending y/n a cheeky wink.
    “It’s very pretty,” she comments. She liked the little swinging bench on the  porch. The hanging plants, and the red frame around his door.     When Harry opens the door, a cinnamon smell wafts from the inside. Harry sets her stuff on the floor, stepping aside to let her come in. He flips on a switch next to the place where he hung keys and coats, and the inside lights up. A golden gas lamp illuminated the living room softly, splaying over the brown couch covered in fluffy throw blankets. Bookshelves in the place of where a TV would’ve hung, pots of flowers on lampstands, pieces of framed artwork on the walls.  
    “Wadda’ya think?” He said. 
    “I love it. It’s cozy, and it smells,” She inhales deeply, the scent of cinnamon and bread filling her lungs, “delicious.” 
“It’s pie. Baked it this morning.” His hands disappear into the pockets of his black pants. And he adds,  quietly, “Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll let you have some tomorrow. How’s that sound?” 
“Okay,” y/n murmurs. Harry takes her by the hand, and leads her up the stairs and into the last room in the short hallway. 
Harry doesn’t turn on the light this time, and let’s go of y/n’s hand to light a candle. He sets it on what she assumes is the bedside table, and in the dim light, she watched him remove his shirt, the silk material revealing his tattooed skin. There were too many to count, but enough to look at. 
“S’not nice to stare.” Harry gave her the shirt she was wearing, standing cockily with the other hand on hooked on his belt loop. Even though y/n had been caught, she didn’t remove her wandering eyes, trailing consistently over the butterfly on Harry's very sturdy abdomen, so appealing, the few sparse hairs that grew coarser as they reached his zipper leaving her tongue nearly lolling out of her mouth. 
With shaking fingers, she reaches out for the shirt, clenching the material in a tight fist like she had when she braced herself for Harry’s kiss. 
“Thank you,” she mumbled shyly, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another, waiting for him to take a hint and turn around. 
“Want me to turn around?” She nods in response, biting her lip as she salivates at the way his back muscles flex with every slight movement. It takes her a moment to avert her eyes from his statue-like body, and discard her soft sweater and shorts for the silk shirt 
Her skin feels like it was being bathed in cool water, the shirt moving freely, just like water. 
“All done?” Harry’s voice bounces from the wall in front of him, to her burning ears. She was done, realizing that the shirt only just barely went past her butt, stopping mid thigh, and there were no buttons , except for the three going up to the valley of her breasts. 
“Yes, all done.” She says, voice wavering nervously, because she hoped that… “do you have a spare room?” 
“Baby,” There go her inhibitions, “you’re sleeping with me.” Harry cooed at her, his thumb coming to swipe gently on her cheek, and he kissed a soft spongy kiss on her nose. 
“A-are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me in your space or anything lik-” Y/n began to rant, her fingers swiping her hair behind her ears. 
“Y/n, I thought you’re be comfortable sleeping with me,” he pouts, eyes looking into hers and his thumb still lightly rubbing the space underneath her lashes. “But if you want me to sleep on the couch, I’ll do that. You just have to sa-”
“Okay.” She interrupts, breaking eye contact with him and staring down at the floor, at his muscular legs that were still covered in black material.  She yawns, gets into his bed, and because she no longer knew what morals were, she didn’t care that the shirt moved freely up to the curve of her back, giving Harry a clear view of her underwear covered bum.  
There’s a distinct tearing sound, as Harry rushes to remove his pants and climb into bed with an astonished y/n.  A primal look of hunger nests deep in his eyes, clawing out as he places his hands on y/n waist and sits her on his lap to continue what they’d paused in the field of glowing blossoms. He didn’t start off slow like before, instead pressing his mouth so hard against her pliant lips that their teeth bumped against each other and their noses rubbed against each other in a harsh Eskimo kiss. His hands knew little to no boundaries, coming to instinctively rest on the part of her thighs that came just before the back of her knees, pulling her impossibly close to him; so close in fact, that y/n could feel his erection pressing, rutting against her pulsing center. An action that elicited a mewl from her, and a feral groan from Harry.  Underwear, was the only thing separating them; keeping Harry from finding closure to his erratic thrusting against y/n, who in return, returned an equally desperate friction against his cock. Grinding, to put it in words, so close to ecstasy because Harry knew that y/n felt that she couldn’t have sex with him yet but they had to do something despite the fact that she still had her doubts; she’d just met the guy and she was questoning her sanity as it is because she’s one step away from sex with a man who’s last name she didn’t know.
“That’s it, baby.” Harry grunted into her mouth, swallowing each and every moan that left her lips. Smacking lips, heavy breathing, and rustling sheets were the noises that bounced off the room. 
“Harry, I-I’m,” Staccato ‘ah-ah’s left her busy lips, hips bucking at their own accord and her mind completely blank because the only thing she wanted was sweet release. Pink cotton panties completely soaked through, the scent of her arousal wafting and filling his nostrils and all he can smell her tangy aroma. 
“I know baby. I know me-” BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three hard knocks on the door startled and separate them with a wet suckle, both of them turning to look with wide eyes at the opened door of Harry’s dark bedroom. Their hips were still unconsciously sliding against one another, y/n turning to dig her face deep in Harry’s neck because ‘Harry please I’m so close’.  Begrudgingly, he turned to place her on her back, flat on the bed so he could see who in the world is at the door at this ungodly hour.
“I need to go see who’s at the door, darling.” He sponges kisses on her neck, his nose inhaling deeply in the soft juncture of her jaw, whining because he’s so fucking hard it hurts and she smelled like honey and roses and all things pure in the world. 
Unwillingly, Harry leaves his (not so much anymore) little angel on the big bed, spread eagled with roses blooming on her cheeks, eyes blinking mawkishly because she was still twitching with not yet there ecstasy. Her lips swollen and shining with Harry’s spit, buzzing with sparkling electricity that she felt when he touched her; looked at her. She’d come to the conclusion that Harry’s character consisted of serious and salacious looks. And based on the awkward smiles he’d given her when they first met at the diner, he didn’t do it often, so she didn’t take it personally because he was being so cold with her. Actually, she was relishing the attention she received from him, the lingering touches, the flashes of something in his eyes. But there’s a factor of missing identity that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, it’s what held her back from pressing on the matter. Because she was scared of what could subjectively be a deal-breaking answer. She was on a never ending see-saw with herself, loving the feelings that ignited within her, and wondering what could be the missing puzzle piece to this man who she didn’t even know. Jesus Christ, what are you thinking? This man could be a-
“Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house!” Harry’s angered voice and travels from downstairs, all the way up to is room, where y/n jumps up into a sitting position and reaches to cover herself with a pillow because someone is bounding up the stairs, making them rattle and shake from the rapid pace, opposed to Harry’s and y/n calm walk.
“Oh, Harry…” taunted a second voice, this one jovial and not as deep as Harry’s, with a european accent, but more on the hippie side.  “You know the rules man, if Cal-”
“Don’t you dare say his name!” Harry’s roaring at this point, completely enraged and then another set of stomps catched up the ones that were coming up the stairs. Y/n was listening to this interaction, and slowly inching closer and closer to the headboard with her knees pulled tight into her chest, toes the only thing peeking out from underneath the pillow she clutched. 
“Let’s see whoo you’ve got-”     “Walk AWAY, Zayn!” 
“Pent up all alone-” Then a heavy thudding noise accompanied with a disgruntled ‘nugh’ and a distinct noise of a body rolling down the stairs. The second voice is silent, and Harry is breathing wetly, as if there were strings of saliva between his tongue and lips and drooling down his lips like a dog’s agitated maw. He murmurs a broke ‘fuck” and the steady rhythm of feet up the steps continues. 
“Baby? Baby? Y/n,” Harry steps through the door, shoulders heaving up and down radically, nostrils flared, and just like she’d imagined, strands of spit connecting the side of his lips that were pulled back to reveal nearly each and every one of his teeth. Blame it on the dim like, sure whatever, but in that moment, his unusually sharp incisors extending at least an inch from the gums like the infamous folklore being of the undead. He tilted his head away from the light with crazed eyes, searching for y/n in the sparsely lit room. 
She sat up a little, Harry’s wide eyes immediately snapping to hers and his body jumps to action. Faster than she could blink, he appeared next to her and picked her up, his shirt bunching up to her stomach, exposing the little white bow on the band of her underwear, and Harry’s still-hard member twitches in his underwear. His biceps straining and stomach muscles clenching as he picks her up from the bed, the pillow still in her arms.
“Y/n, honey, we need to go,” Harry rushes out, breathlessly. “We need to leave, c’mon, let’s-lets get you home.” And he takes her out of the room in his arms, y/n looking at him still muddled in the state of pending euphoria. 
“What- What’s going on?...” That’s when she saw the body. Slumped on the stairs was amale’s figure, lying on his front with his head tilted to the side so y/n could see that he had a bloody nose and blood trailing down from his a cut on his thick eyebrows, coating his thick lashes and onto his exotic lips. “Harry!” she gasped. “ What?..” 
“It’s alright, angel. Don’t worry about that.” Harry turned her away from him, but she managed to twist her head to look over his shoulder at the slumped body that was getting smaller and smaller as Harry bent to pick her things up from next to the door, and walked out. “Just a prick that doesn’t know how to mind his own business. He’ll be awake soon and he’s not here for tea,” Before she knew it, Harry was carrying her out the door and rounding the corner of the house. The cold breeze hits y/n legs and the sides of her arms, and she could only imagine what Harry , who was only in his underwear, was feeling. 
She didn’t have time to admire the scenery of his home, because she was put in the passenger seat of an all black car with dark tinted windows parked behind the cottage. 
“Put the belt on love,” Hands unnecessary thumbed at her thighs, eyes searching hers for… for… for what? Heart shaped lips gaped open and closed like a guppy fish, trying to tell her something but not being able to find the words.
“Harry, is everything alright?” She asked, still clutching the pillow to her chest. Her kept flicking from Harry’s still pink mouth, and his frantic eyes that seemed almost.. scared. He was scared. 
He hesitated a bit before responding. Opening and closing his mouth once more before nodding and murmuring, “Yes, angel. Everything’s fine.” and he smiled sadly at her, lips curling inwards.
He closed her door, and curved around the front of the car, placing a ringed hand on the hood of the car; the same hand who rings, just a few moments ago, had sent cold shivers to her hot clit. The thought brought warmth to her cheeks, and she buried her nose into the pillow to avoid staring at Harry while he hurriedly put on a pair of dark green tattersall pants and dragged a zipper over his hard male heat. 
The car purred to life,and Harry crushed gravel underneath the car's tires and he quickly pulled out of the driveway. Speed pushed y/n into her seat, and Harry looked over at her like she’d forgotten she was there, he blinked at her, and then turned his attention back to the oddly straight road. One hand on the wheel, and the other, pensively running a forefinger back and forth his bottom lip. 
Harry was out of his mind with worry. Worry over why the fuck Zayn was at his house. Over what would happen when he returned. Worry over what he would say to y/n when he left her at her doorstep and never saw her again. And worry over what in the hell he was going to do with himself because he was sure that by now, the head of his dick was an angry purple, and it hurt like a-
“Harry?” The sweet voice he learned to treasure over such a very short time, called to him. “What happened back there? Is this like, I dunno, a mafia thing? He’s the money collector, and that’s why you had to leave? Or was he-”
Her wild imagination humored him, and he gave her the smallest of smiles, a faint smile like the one he’d given her that time at the diner. “No, darling. M’not a bad guy. I promise.”     “Yeah, that exactly the kind of thing a bad guy would say.” she scoffed, turning her attention to the passing scenery. 
“‘Think that if i wanted to something t’you, ‘would’ve that time at the diner, don’t you think?”  She’s quiet. Doesn’t say anything to Harry’s response. Doesn’t do anything , at all. Like she didn’t hear him.
“Why did you leave?” She’s still looking out the window when she talks, so her voice is muffled. “That night at the diner. You left so quickly, I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.” 
Now Harry acts like he didn’t hear her. 
“Hmm?” She hums expectantly, suddenly turning to face him. She knew she was prodding, but she longed to hear any kind of explanation. 
“Had something t’do,” He’s voice was quiet, almost at a whisper, and his slowed words muddled together even more in his british drawl. 
“At 3 in the morning?” Y/n squeaks, her tone going high enough that it cracks. 
“No, at 6 actually. And it’s a three hour drive to where I was goin.’”
Her heart was pounding; blood roaring in her ears. She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. But did it matter? All she wanted was any kind of explanation, and she’d gotten it. So, she slumped defeatedly back in her seat, deflated that Harry hadn’t tried to apologize for his inconvenient timing; didn’t offer any kind of expansion on his explaining. 
Y/n spent the rest of the ride scowling; glaring at the passing trees. Angry for letting herself get caught up in this situation, for not questioning anything earlier. But how could she? There was something about Harry that reeled her in like a fish to a worm on a hook. Hooked. She was hooked on him. Couldn’t get enough of him. She figured that he was the burning light mosquitoes were attracted to, and she was the stupid bloodsucking bug. And she was bound to get burnt. Maybe this was a sign, that the next he popped up unannounced, she was to run and yell bloody murder. Because even though she was just about to let him take her a million ways and one, it wouldn’t ever be. It was completely illogical; crazy, in fact, because she had just met this guy once before. 
But it all felt so familiar with him. That’s why she didn’t hesitate to do anything. It felt like maybe, if the concept is true, she’d known him in a past life. Because his touch didn’t feel like just a superficial human tissue to tissue contact… no, it felt like it was his way of communicating all the things he couldn’t say out loud because he was scared to. 
His grip on her thighs wasn’t just an ‘i want you’ it was a ‘please stay, and let me show you how much i need you’. His featherlight touch to her cheeks was his was of saying i don’t want to ever hurt you. His lips told her this is how you make me feel. 
And y/n… adored his attention. His stern lingering gazes. Call her easy, but this man was a god and he was looking at her. How could she say no to that? Not when dickheads like Alex were throwing ice cold water at her on a breezy October night. Not when she was all alone in a makeshift paradise and so drunk out of her mind she imagined him glowing. 
“We’re in the city, darling. I need y’to tell m’where y’live.” Harry’s murmur was just barely louder than the engine smoot rev. 
“On Yves and Smith. Laymane’s Apartment Complex.” 
Harry didn’t take that long because he was already on Yves Street, and they were a block away from Smith. He pulled to a stop in front of the the red-brick building, and reached behind her chair to pull out her basket, that had everything arranged neatly inside. When did he even have the time to do that?
“Thank you,” She said, looking past Harry, at the apartment’s front steps like she was dreading stepping through the door. Which she was, she knew that once she got out of the car, she’d never see him again. Harry watched her, taking everything in, and imagining what could have been. “You wanna come in?” Immediately, she knew it was a bad idea because her roommate is nosy, and she’d make them both uncomfortable. 
But Harry shook his head, and with pinched eyebrows, he said “No, I’ve got a problem to tend to.” He looked away from her then, clenching his jaw so hard the side of his face contorted. 
“Right,” She went to remove her buckle, and paused slightly before she clicked the red ‘push’ button. Y/n placed the pillow that was no underneath her basket, in the backseat, and she opened the door. Turning back to look at him once more, was when Harry leaned across the console, took her face in both of his hands and gave her the softest kiss yet. Even that, stirred the heat that had not yet quelled. 
“Goodbye, angel.” Touching his forehead against hers once, and kissing her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, Harry’s heart began to burn. It took his breath away, and he turned away from y/n and towards her apartment to bite on his knuckle and squeeze his eyes shut. It felt as if someone was driving a red hot stake into his heart, twisting it as it drove into his chest. What the?...
“Bye, Harry.” His chest flared with heat at hearing her honey lips murmur his name for the last time. Then it all stopped the moment she closed the door of his BMW.
Harry stayed a few moments longer, to watch her legs as she curved the hood of his car, and climb up the steps. Her- his shirt rode up in the subtle wind, and flashes of her butt winked at him cheekily. She wasn’t even trying and Harry still found her attractive. He had to refrain from stepping out of the car and holding his shirt down for her all the way up till she was inside her home. 
Y/n realized, when she was unlocking her door, that she hadn’t thanked him for paying for her strawberry milkshake.
“C’mon y/n! What’s the worst that could happen?” nagged her roommate, Megan, who held a glimmering golden dress to the length of her body, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. 
“Oh, please don’t try and get in my head right now,” y/n begged. “I barely have room for myself in here.” 
It was 6 pm on New Year’s Eve, and they’d both been sent an open invite to their mutual friend Adam’s houseparty. Y/n wanted to stay in and spend the night with her new romance novel and a heavy heating blanket but, Megan was dragging her to the party because she claimed that all y/n ever did these days was go to school and come home. She was lying on her roommates bed with her chin on her palm, when Megan set the dress on her bed, and began to drag y/n by her ankles.
“Then let’s get some of you out of your head and out of this apartment. Y/n you need this.” Megan stopped pulling, and turned her over to shake her by the shoulders. “If you go to this party,” Her eyebrows wiggled like a walking caterpillar, “I’ll do our laundry for a month and buy that ice cream from the asian market you like so much.” 
“HA! If you washed my clothes, all my whites would end up colored,” Y/n poked her tongue out at her roommate, and let her push her into her room. 
“You got anything good in here?” Megan opened the mirror door to y/n’s closet, and started going through every hanger. “Or am I gonna have to let you borrow- Holy shit y/n! When did you get this?” 
Megan holds up the fine piece of silk y/n had shoved into the very back of her closet. Harry’s white shirt.  
After going weeks without seeing or hearing from him, y/n kept the shirt, and hid the painful reminder that she had spent one intoxicating night with the most attractive man she’d ever met. She thought about him every minute of everyday, and ever dream of every sleep she ever takes. Heck, her heart burns and yearns for him so badly it physically hurts. Like she was being lit aflames from the inside; red hot fire licking every artery, every vein. Sometimes it got so bad she doubled over in pain, retching breathlessly. 
She tried to forget about him, but he was everywhere. In the pie that Megan brought home a week after y/n didn’t get her promised pie. In the cross at the altar at church every sunday. In the cups of hot chocolate she had to stop drinking because they reminded her so much of his hair. In her fucking toothpaste for christ’s sake. And in that stupid shirt that she slept with for the first week because it smelled like him. Cinnamon and vanilla and something earthy that was just him. 
“This is GUCCI Y/N!” Megan squealed, shoving the fabric in y/n’s face,and when she tries to take it back, Megan pulls away from her. 
“Give it to me,” Y/n said, getting off her bed and chasing Megan, who ran to the other side of the room.     “No, if you want this back,” her friend wiggled her eyebrows again. “Come to the party with me.”
Without hesitation, y/n agreed because that shirt was the last she had to prove that her enchanted night wasn’t all a dream. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. Now give it back,” 
“Nuh-uh” Megan ran into her room across the hall from y/n, and locked the door before she could get inside to chase after. She begins to panic, hoping that Megan isn’t doing anything stupipd with one of her most prized possessions.
“Megan, that shirt means a lot to me. Please be-” She has a hand raised to start banging on the door, but Her roommate opens the door with a big smile.
“Don’t worry babe, just using it as insurance,” She pats y/n’s shoulder and walks back into her room. “Now let’s get you ready.”
 It was 10pm when they arrived at the house, which actually turned out to be the entire top floor of a really nice apartment building downtown. Adam had decorated the place himself, and you could tell by the bean bags, lazy boy chairs , and plaid couch that were strewn everywhere. A long table in the center of the room was set up with plates and utensils at every chair, wine bottles and glasses lines up in a straight row all the way down the table. There seemed to be one bottle for every person, and more by the amounts that were set in the table at the entrance. A calm yellow glow of mood light from strips of fairy lights surrounding the room was an odd combination with the awfully loud guests, some already clearly piss drunk. 
Upon arrival, y/n had been immediately separated from  Megan, who was gone before y/n could turn and mutter something sarcastic about the party into her ear. Adam had greeted her quickly at the entrance, giving her a bottle of 5% strawberry cider complete with a pastel pink ribbon at the neck. The gangly, freshly 21 year old, looked frazzled, turning his head this way and that every time his name was called because last minute decorations were still going up at the photobooth section. 
“So glad you could make it,” Adam distractedly pressed a kiss to her cheek while he hugged her, yelling to someone about how ‘the only kid in the room was Charlie at he was 16 so if you don’t play some real fucking music-’
“Yeah, me too,” Y/n said quietly, almost to herself because Adam had walked away to snatch the bluetooth speaker from the guy with lousy taste. Seconds later, a trendy hip-hop song blared throughout the entire floor. 
Desperately, y/n searched the place for someone, anyone, she may have recognized at the stupid party. If I had just been able to stay home… she puffed her cheeks, and blew air out from her lips wistfully, the cold bottle of cider helping the dread weigh her down.  
She figured she’d take the bottle of strawberry bubbly, and go up the stairs she’d spotted in the corner of the room. The quick but seemingly endless walk that required her to walk in front of the heavily populated lounge areas, and the section of the room where a golden curtain and sparkly 2019 glasses were being passed around, brought rosy tint to her cheeks. Even though she knew that no one was lookinng at her, and once she passed the door to go up the steps, no one would even miss her, she was still embarrassed to be potentially seen walking by herself, dressed in a lousy last minute mint green slip dress (the same dress that reminded her of Harry’s eyes), at a New Year’s Eve party meant to congregate with others; to celebrate another year. And while that’s usually something she was good at, getting piss drunk with others at holiday parties, this was the one year that she was dreadfully sad. A shadow of loneliness loomed over her shoulder wherever she went, reminding her that she was painfully alone. She could’ve been surrounded by people, laughing with others, or even making out with a guy a year younger the back of her Human Interactions class, but that same damned black hole would still be at the pit of her stomach, draining away any sort of ‘happy’ that she managed to get. 
The poor girl was miserable. And up on that rooftop that overlooked that nightlife of the city, while she unwrapped the pink foil on the bottle of champagne all alone on New Year’s Eve, it all accumulated like a rolling snowball, and hit her like a truck. Barreling towards her at full force, and she had no way to escape from her sorrow. It really felt like she was all alone in the world; that everyone avoided her like she was the plague even though it was the other way around (she the one who boarded up her house). 
She sipped away at her problems, and they collected on her tongue with the taste of fermented strawberries. Her “problems” fizzled in her tongue and down her throat, bitterly sizzling and air bubbles popping in her esophagus. 
Maybe it was the cider that caused an acid reaction, and initiated the burning that crawled all the way to the center of her heart. But y/n knew better. She knew these came regularly, and stronger when she missed him. And when they came and she remembered, the pain only increased, almost suffocating her. This was one of those times, where she remembered him, his eyes popping into her mind, and she grabbed the railing because it hit her so hard she almost fell over. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” with one hand, she held the rail that overlooked the city, and with the other, she clutched the bottle to her chest; kneading with earnest, trying her hardest to dissolve the knot of fire that has developed in her heart. 
“You alright there, babe?” Red sneakers appear in y/n’s line of view, and the guy who they belong to crouches down in front of her and titles his head at her. He’s got blue eyes and soft looking caramel hair swept to the side. His lips are a little on the thin side, adorned by scruff on his jaw. “Want me to get you anythin’?” He’s got an accent faster and chirpier that Harry’s, y/n thought. Big mistake. 
She falls completely to the floor, vision almost going black because she wasn’t getting any oxygen. Y/n’s body started to convulse, her back arching and hands wildly pulling at the collar of her dress.  They had never been this bad. 
“It burns,” She was yelling now, gasping for air with eyes so wide it looked like they were going to pop. 
“Shit, fuck, uh…” whispered the blue-eyed boy. “I’m going to get cold water,” he was talking aloud to himself, because y/n was unaware of everything going on. The only thing she knew was the pain in her chest. 
When the blue-eyed boy disappeared down the stairs, another ,more malicious voice is audible, this one reaching y/n’s struggling ears because this voice she knew. This voice she had heard somewhere before. “Finally, ‘thought the chap would neva leave.” An arabian nose and thick eyebrows make their way into her line of rapidly fading view. 
It was him. It was the guy at Harry’s house, the one knocked out on the stairs and he was picking her up.  He was carrying her somewhere, whistling as he does so. By now, the pain has lessened, and y/n is more alert than before, her head hung limp on this man’s shoulder, who smelled like the old spice her middle school boyfriend used. 
“What’s happening?” She said groggily, going to rub her eye, but poking herself with the open bottle of champagne that she was still holding on to; some of it has slipped down her green dress. 
“Ah, you’re awake,” the man looks at her, and then y/n remembers his name. Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house! Zayn. “Good, good. We’re gonna have some fun. Well, I’m going to have some fun.”
Y/n tried to push herself off and away from him by shoving his chest, but her efforts were to no avail, he didn’t even budge; like he was made of stone. 
“Let me go, Zayn!” She huffed.
“So you do remember.” He laughed, a deep resonating cackle. They were heading down the stairs, but instead of going towards where everyone else was, Zayn made a left turn down a dark alley. The darker it got, the more y/n could see that his eyes…. His eyes shined red like a lighthouse. An otherworldly aura about him, that shook y/n to the core. This man, well to put it simply, she knew, a tug in the pit of her stomach, wasn’t human. And when he suddenly stopped and bent his head to sniff at her throat, the sound of a knife taken out of his sheath evaded y/n’s ears, and she knew that Harry wasn’t human either. 
 She knew why Harry knocked Zayn out, when he  sunk his teeth into her  with a low ‘you smell delicious’. A pinch, like thick needles sliding into her skin, caused her to drop the bottle of champagne onto the floor. 
Y/n tried, she really did, to push Zayn away. But he had positioned her so she was standing, and his forgein strength tied her to his body with a single arm, and the other held her head in such a way that made it each for hm to lick and bite. The girl was stuck in a permanent state of ‘deer in the headlights' shock, frozen on the outside but writing frantically on the inside. Why couldn’t she move? MOVE Y/N! 
A tingling sensation spread all from her toes to the top of her head, a honey daze of warmth that made her slump in Zayn’s arms. Oh she liked this, the soft stage of your feet going numb is what she was feeling. Vibrations, waves, currents-
“Zayn, I fucking warned you,” Harry.  Holy shit whatever this was, she hoped it kept going because she swears- “You’re going to wish you died the first time,” 
It was Harry. Harry standing not even two feet away, green eyes glowing like headlights; beams. Harry has the same expression on his face as when Jordan Belfort yelled ‘MY KILLAHS!’ to all his employees.  A crazed snarl, and he was lunging at them like those wild cat documentaries shots, where the mountain lion is jumping in slow motion for the poor and soon to be dead deer. He pounced on the side of Zayn’s body farthest from y/n, yanking Zayn’s head back by the hair on the nape of his neck to pry him away from her neck. She gasped wetly mewling and gazing at Harry with a ‘not quite here’ look in her eye. Harry wrapped an arm around y/n’s waist, hoisting her over his shoulder and out of Zayn’s hold like a sleeve. 
“Haaarryy!”  she slurred, slinging her arms around Harry’s neck, while he held Zayn up against the wall in a chokehold. “Missed y-you,” y/n’s hiccuping, as if she had drank the entire bottle of cider that had crashed onto the floor. “Not now, y/n.” Harry looked into her eyes sternly, threatening her to even try  and disobey him. “Go back to the party, I’ll be out in a bit.” He was shunning her, chastising her like she’d been a bad child. In her spurious state of inebriation, y/n pouted and huffed, even stomped a little, but listened to Harry nonetheless and skipped towards the bright light of the party. 
The blue-eyed man, who was actually short (her height actually) walked past her without a second glance, head directed straight on with a purpose. Y/n, adopting a la la la  attitude, simply shrugged and went back into the remarkably loud  party, and sat down at the head of the still empty table, and poured wine for herself with the bottle that was on the table. 
“Y/n?” Megan appeared next to her, gasping and squealing obnoxiously. “Y/n! You little slut, that is a mean,” hiccup, “h-hickey.” Megan took the sit next to y/n, and snatched the bottle away from her, slurping straight from the mouth ungraciously. 
“Y-you,” hiccup, “left m-me.” Y/n pointed a finger at Megan, her voice small but accusing. 
“I-it’s” hiccup, “only b-because, Conrad said that h-he,” hiccup, “would show me a good time. B-but, it t-turns out that all he,” hiccup, “wanted was a bl-blowjob.” 
“Who’s,” hiccup, “the s-slut now?” Y/n giggled, twisting her neck in a way that showed off the large purple splotch, and stretched the sore skin in a manner that caused her to whimper an ‘ouch’.
“Neither of you,” interrupts a deep voice that causes them to look up and see Harry standing with the same expression y/n had seen on him when she saw him at the diner. Furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, cold eyes and a glimmer of something in them. “It’s not nice to insult each other the way you’re doing.” He looked at y/n while he spoke, gazing at her so intensely, she wiggled in the cushioned seat. 
“She started it,” Y/n whined.
“Well look at her n-neck!” Megan leaned onto the table, and began to mutter something else, but fell face first onto the plate and started snoring. 
“Why don’t we get something on tha’, hmm?” Harry picked y/n up by the waist, and left his arm hooked on her waist while he looked for the restroom. 
“Where’s Zayn?” asked y/n, stumbling on her feet giddily, staring at everything she passed, the vase on the stand, the couples making out, the generic picture frames, the couples making out. 
“Tha’s none of y’concern,” He turned into the restroom, and sat her down on the toilet seat. Closing the door for privacy, he took her hands into his face and quietly watched her for a moment.
“You know Harry?” A dopey smile spread across her lips, eyelids drooping halfway closed. “I know what you are.” 
“Do you, angel?” Harry’s thumbed caressed the soft skin underneath her eye, a movement of instinct that he didn’t even have to think about doing because it happened on its own. 
“Like it when you c-call me that.” Y/n whimpered, and turned her face into Harry’s hand like a kitten looking for more pets. 
“Tell me what I am.” Harry said tenderly, encouraging her to answer by guiding her face to his. “Tell me what I am, angel.”
“V-vampire.” She blurted, “You’re a vampire. Why didn’t you tell me you’re a vampire?” 
“I thought it would be better that way, darling.”�� 
“Better? Feeling my heart burn isn’t better.” She pouted. 
“What did you say?” Harry’s demeanor perked up like a dog who’d been asked if he wanted to go outside. His eyes looking from her right to left one, searching for an answer. 
“I SAID… I said my heart burns.” Y/n was slightly irritated that Harry had asked her to repeat herself. Because hadn’t it been perfectly clear what she’d said? And why was she so tired? 
“Your heart burns?” He asked, trying desperately to keep her awake, because he has felt the same exact burning in his heart during the time she was away from her. In fact, he’d gone through a spasm just moments before he arrived on the rooftop to send Zayn to hell. 
“Yeah,” hiccup, “That’s what I said.” She nodded pitifully, lips curving upwards. 
“My heart… burned, too.” 
“You missed me?” Y/n said excitedly, her heart beating faster at the thought that Harry may’ve missed her to. “Because it hurt whenever I missed you.” 
“Baby, I missed you, so much.” And Harry kisses her. He leans in to close the gap between them, smashing his lips against hers with all the emotion that had pent up within him throughout the past weeks. 
“I’m so mad at you.” Y/n says when they break apart, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, the same tears that spilled on her pillow the nights after Harry said goodbye to her. 
“I almost did. That time at the diner, I left before the sunrise so that you didn’t see my skin glow. And that time in the field, it wasn’t the champagne. I drank it before you woke up. And then at my house? I almost sunk my teeth into you, just like Zayn did. And when he came in, he came in ready to drain you because he finds you just as delicious as I do. I thought you’d be safe if I never say you again after I left you at your doorstep, but I was so stupid for that.” He says, pressing his forehead against hers, and mawkishly rubbing his nose senselessly against hers. 
“...Would’ve liked it better if you bit me.”
Harry inhales, in disbelief that after all he had said, this is what she came up with as a response. “Oh, don’t say those kinds of things to me, baby. You don’t know who’s cage you’re rattling.” At her whiny and desperate words, his dick twitched with a sudden surge of heat, hardening rapidly at y/n’s words.
“Wanna rattle your cage always, Harry.” She placed her forehead on his chest, rubbing her lips on his collar bones back and forth a few times. “Please don’t leave me ever again. Think I’ll die if you do.” She yawned, and fell slack against Harry’s chest. 
And Harry? Harry stood in the restroom of a college student’s New Year’s Eve party, cock hard in his pants, completely bewildered that y/n had murmured those words to him. But, he hugged her to his chest and said, “I’ll never leave you again, my sweet little angel.” And he wouldn’t. Because after putting off staying with her, and seeing what the results were, he’d never leave her side again.
STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!
much love, -abigail
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Text
Meant To Be
Pairing: Dean x reader (priest AU)
Warnings: Cheating, domestic abuse, angst, fluff, awkward Dean
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People say that things happen for a reason. They believe in what is “meant to be” and in destiny. It’s almost in order to believe in some greater plan that is laid out for us to find and follow, so that eventually everything in our lives will fall into place and make sense.
Out of all days, today however, this particular idea of planning and predestination did not comfort me at all; if anything it irked me. The thing is, if things happen for a reason and there is a plan we have to follow, then how the hell did I end up where I am now?
Today started off as a beautiful spring day. The flowers and trees were blooming all over the city, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. Everything in my life was perfect; everything was going according to my life “plan.” I woke up in a good mood, exited to start working on a new season in the conservatoire, happy to be engaged to a successful man, and ready to start the day listening to my favorite music.
I had met my fiancé Paul five years before in a way that seemed to be “meant to be.” That day had been rainy and gloomy, I had spilled coffee all over my clothes, I had been late for work because I missed the train, and everything was generally going terribly wrong. But everything happens for a reason, right? So suddenly I ran into Paul, a handsome stranger who helped me out and made a very bad day, good.
Paul and I started dating and everything in our relationship went smoothly as relationships should. We would often go on dates to expensive restaurants where he would tell me about his job and how he was rapidly ascending in his company. I would talk about my love for music and my work in the orchestra. We each got along with each other’s friends. And like any couple we would fight. We would have movie nights and order in. Overall it was a normal and good relationship. Soon we moved in together and got engaged.
Everything was going according to plan, but in the blink of an eye it all got destroyed as if it didn’t mean anything. And so now I wonder, if things happen for a reason like everyone says and there is some “plan” we all have to follow, then why the hell did I waste five years of my life on someone that would eventually just break my heart and ruin said dumbass plan?
So yes, today started off as a beautiful spring day. Paul unfortunately had woken up a little under the weather and decided to stay home from work. So I rapidly got ready for work humming some of my favorite songs, kissed my fiancé goodbye, and made my way to the conservatoire to start rehearsal with the orchestra.
The rest of the day had been as nice and cheerful as the morning even though I was worried about Paul, hoping he felt better. Since the orchestra was just starting to prepare for the upcoming season, the conductor graciously gave us the afternoon off. I decided to surprise Paul by going to the local Japanese restaurant to pick up some of his favorite hot soup, which I was sure would make him feel better. Nothing could dampen my spirits. Or so I thought…
I went into the apartment and our room where I found Paul with some blonde bimbo I’m sure is his new secretary tangled in between the sheets. As soon as he saw me, he tumbled out of bed, babbling excuses and apologies. In any other context this scene would have seemed hilarious: a naked man, half covered with the bed sheet, trying to convince me that something I had clearly just seen with my own two eyes was wrong. But this wasn’t funny at all, not when he was the man who supposedly loved me more than life itself and had promised to marry me.
Before I could leave the apartment, Paul forcefully grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to face him.
“Baby it’s not what you think!” he gasped between breaths, clearly still overworked from his previous activities with the secretary. 
“Then please explain what the hell is it?  Because it seems to me as if my fiancé is cheating on me with some cheap skank from his office!” I yelled back.
“No Y/N, darling, you’re over reacting! It isn’t like that.”
I scoffed at that. The nerve of the cheating asshole! I once again turned to leave, when he yanked me back. “Don’t you turn your back on me!” he roared, and without a second thought he slapped me.
For a moment we both stood in shock simply staring at each other, neither knowing how to react.
“Y/N I’m so sor…” but before he could finish I ran out of the apartment, out of the building, and down the street as fast as I could.
So those are the events that brought me here. Walking in shock down a street that just a few hours ago I would have considered beautiful. The flowers and the trees were still blooming, the sky was still blue, and the sun was still shining. But I couldn’t admire it anymore; I barely noticed any of it. Instead of crying I just kept walking until I unexpectedly found myself in front of an old city church. 
The building was old and simple yet well kept. It reminded me of the church I used to go with my family when I was little. Sunday mass had been a peaceful moment I shared with my loved ones, where I could enjoy the music and be comforted. Craving that same warmth I decided to go into the cold building. Maybe here I would make sense of what had just happened. Maybe here I would understand why the path I had been following these past five years suddenly crumbled before my eyes.
I made my way into the church and silently sat at the side of the room, which was mostly empty except for an old lady who was praying to a statue of Mary at the front. I looked down at my hands, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath; letting myself process what had happened.
The man who allegedly loved me had been unfaithful. He had lied to me. And worst of all he had hit me. He hit me. How did this happen? Where did I go wrong? Why did this happen? A single tear made its way down my bruised cheek and that’s when the dam finally broke and my body shook with silent sobs.
Deep in my thoughts I cried softly, until I was hastily brought back to reality by a gentle hand placed on my shoulder. I hurriedly wiped the tears from my eyes and looked to my side to find a priest sitting next to me.
“Father, I’m sorry, you startled me. I didn’t hear you sit down,” I explained keeping my gaze down to my fidgeting hands.
“That’s okay, no need to apologize,” he chuckled. “I just came to check if you were doing alright. You seem upset.”
I didn’t really know what to say, how to explain my situation to a priest. I’m sure he often listened to worse sob stories than my own, so I didn’t want the kind man to worry about me. “Oh, don’t worry I’m fine. I’m just, just a little overwhelmed. I ummm…”
We stayed in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Then I looked up at him with teary eyes, only to be met with the kindest green eyes I’d ever seen.
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know? It’s okay to cry and let it all out. And if you want to talk, I’m here to listen,” the priest said.
I simply nodded and turned my head to the front of the church where the old lady had been earlier. There were candles along the sides that danced with the odd air current. It was a peaceful and quiet. The light came in through the windows and stained glass, creating an almost divine atmosphere within the room. I thought about the church I had gone to as a child and what I had learned about God’s plan and finding your one true path in life. Now it seems like a load of bull.
“Do you believe that there is some path we each have to follow?” I ask suddenly, breaking the calming silence.
He takes a moment before answering. “I believe that things happen for a reason. And sometimes things in our lives don’t make sense, but eventually it will all fall into place.”
“And that’s God’s plan?” I mutter almost mockingly.
 “I’d like to think so,” he said calmly, not fazed by my attitude. “You know its normal to question these things, specially when you’re feeling down.” I looked down sheepishly.
 “It’s just that….” I took a deep breath trying not to break down again. “It’s just that everything in my life always seemed ‘meant to be’ and it was going according to plan. But then… then I guess… it all just went wrong...”
 “Then maybe what you thought was your path, was only a detour.”
 I up look at him and notice he is young for a priest. He’s very handsome, with sharp features, dirty blond hair, plush lips, and freckles over his nose. He appears to be tall, and well built, not necessarily the look of a man of God. He has the look of a man who would be out in bars partying and picking up women, not of a priest. I almost get lost gazing at him when he softly touches my cheek, noticing the bruise forming from where Paul had hit me.
 “Did someone hurt you?” he frowned. I simply looked down again; I didn’t want him to pity me.
 I felt the tears streaming down my face again. God, how did I get here? I let out a painful laugh while wiping my tears and looked back at the priest. “I’m sorry Father, you shouldn’t worry about my problems. I should go…”
 I tried to stand up but was held back. “Don’t apologize, you clearly need someone to talk to and I’m glad to help,” he smiled kindly. “And please, call me Dean.”
 “Y/N” I reply shyly. Dean smiled at me and shook my hand while I sat back down on the bench.
Dean didn’t pressure me for details on my hurt face nor why I was so upset. Instead we talked for a while about anything and everything. We exchanged stories and we laughed, Dean was a funny guy. And if I didn’t know any better, I would have said that a couple of times he was flirting with me. Our easy conversation made me forget about my horrible day and broken heart for a while. We talked for such a long time I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I noticed it was getting dark outside.  
 “It’s really late, I didn’t mean to keep you that long. I should go,” I said standing up. “Thank you for listening Dean, I really appreciate it.”
 “No problem Y/N, anytime…”
 I made my way to the door when I realized I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t go back to the apartment where Paul was surely waiting for me. I couldn’t face him yet, not really sure what I would say. And if I was being honest, I was a bit scared of how he might react, considering he had hit me today.  
 “Sweetheart? You okay?” Dean asked, noticing my hesitance to leave.
 “Umm, yeah yeah. I’m okay, it’s just….” I still hadn’t told Dean why I was so upset and why I my face was hurt. “I just… I don’t really want to go back home…. I don’t think I can.”
 “You know if you would like you could come back to my apartment and stay there for tonight.” Shocked, I looked back at him. He rapidly added with flushed cheeks, “I m-mean only i-if you are comfortable with it. I d-don’t mean anything inappropriate.”
 I bit my lip while considering my options. I couldn’t go back home, and I had nowhere else to go. Dean appeared to be a nice and respectful guy who didn’t seem like he would try anything creepy. Besides, he was a priest, right? So I smiled and nodded at Dean, following him to the back of the church to get his things.
 We walked back to his place, which wasn’t that far from the parish. It was a small modest apartment, not overly organized but by no means dirty. Dean rapidly tried to clean up some things that were on the floor, sheepishly apologizing for the mess, even though in my opinion it was actually very clean and organized for a young man.
 I laughed softly when I saw him standing still scratching the back of his neck looking around to see if he had missed anything. Dean seemed nervous now, unlike at the church where he had been confident, almost cocky. Maybe it’s because I’m in his personal space; I doubt that as a priest he’s brought many girls back to his apartment, even if its something as innocent as what this is.
 “Ummm… I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge if you want to eat something” I then realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so I eagerly agreed.
 I helped Dean set the table for two while he warmed up the food. We then sat down and initially ate in a comfortable silence. Then we talked about our respective lives. I told him about my work in the conservatoire and how I loved all kinds of music. He loved music too, and we shared some favorite artists. He told me about his routine as a priest, and going to hospitals and doing volunteer work. It was a soothing and mundane conversation. After finishing our meal we cleaned up the table and washed the dishes.
 “If you’re staying the night you should change into something more comfortable than what you’re wearing. I’ve got some old sweatpants and a shirt you could wear to bed.”
 Dean showed me into his room and gave me the clothes to change into. I started undressing and setting my worn clothes on his bed to fold them. I first put on the sweats, but before I could put on the shirt he gave me, Dean walked into the room.
 “You know you might get cold so I-I-I….” that’s when he noticed my state of undress and his eyes went wide. He rapidly averted his gaze from my body and turned to his side, where I could see the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks and ears. “I-I’m so sorry, I thought you would be dressed already. I –I just wanted to bring you this hoodie in case you were c-cold...” He stuttered while showing the piece of clothing in this hand without looking at me.
 I silently chuckled, took the hoodie, and softly thanked him. Dean ran out the room as fast as he could, clearly embarrassed at what had just happened. His awkward reaction was adorable, and it made me smile. Like the shirt, the hoodie was much too big for me but it was soft and comfortable, putting a smile on my face.
 I made my way to the living room where Dean was standing quietly, getting a glass of whiskey for himself. “Whiskey?” he offered.
 “Yes please.” I reply politely, as he served me a glass as well. “Whiskey huh? I wouldn’t picture it as a drink a priest would like” I teased.
 “Well sweetheart if you must know, I’m no ordinary priest.” He winked.  I’ll bet.
 We made our way to sit on the couch with our drinks. “So umm... Y/N… do you want to talk about what happened today? I mean, why you were upset, and hurt?” he asked kindly.
 I took a deep breath and a moment before answering. I knew I needed to talk about what had happened in order to process it and move forward. “Today was a good day,” I started. “It was a beautiful day, and everything in my life was good, but then I found my fiancé with some chick from his work…”
 Dean frowned but let me continue. “I was so upset I tried to run out of our apartment, but he wouldn’t let me leave! He wanted to make excuses but I didn’t listen. And them umm… Then he hit me, hence the bruise.” I chuckled darkly.
 Dean’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry Y/N, you don’t deserve that. No one should ever hurt you, emotionally nor physically.” I looked at him but instead of finding pity in his eyes like I expected, they were full of empathy. “You deserve much better than him.”
 “Thank you Dean, I guess I just never expected this. I’m obviously leaving him, but my life plan has just collapsed.” I said sadly.
 “Like I said though, sometimes plans don’t go like you expect but its because the path you were following was a detour. Better things await for you.” He smiled with a twinkle in his eye, making me smile as well.
 After my confession, we talked for hours, laughing, and drinking whiskey. He told me about his little brother Sam who is trying to become a lawyer. Apparently Dean had helped pay for his college tuition. I told him about my big family, and how I missed them because they lived far away, but I wouldn’t change my life in the city for anything. He told me about his love for cars, and his beloved Impala that he sadly couldn’t bring to the city. I told him about my love for animals, and how I’ve always wanted to have a dog or a cat, but Paul had never let me have any. Then I told him about my profession as a musician in the orchestra and how I’ve always known I wanted to dedicate my life to music.
 “What made you decide to become a priest? Did you always want to be one?”
 “When I was younger I wanted to be a firefighter. Strong, brave, and manly, you know? But really I’ve always wanted to help people, save them.” He chuckled but then looked awkwardly down at his lap. “Really my mom died in a fire so, I um… I guess that was my way of wanting to save people, even though I couldn’t save her…”
 “I’m so sorry Dean,” I said while soothingly stroking his shoulder.
 “It’s okay, it happened a long time ago.” He smiled sadly.  “I couldn’t become a firefighter as you can see but I still wanted to help people. Plus my family has always been very religious so I’ve always been close to the church. I guess I fin comfort trying to find life’s meaning in this profession. So now I dedicate my life to God and the church, trying to help as many people as I can.”
 “It’s very noble Dean, although I can’t imagine it’s easy. You’ve had to give up a lot to become a priest.” He simply shrugged, self-consciously looking to the side.
 “It’s not like you’re missing out on much anyway.” I quickly corrected. “Most people aren’t even that happy in their relationships and it eventually ends badly, as you can see with my own experience,” I said pointing at the bruise on my face. He smiles sadly at me and then there is a moment of silence.
 “Do you ever wonder what it would be like for you to fall in love?” I asked curiously “Or have you ever been in love?”
 “I think one instinctively knows when they are in love, so no, I don’t think I’ve ever been in love… although I do wonder what it would be like,” he replied with an almost longing look in his eyes. He immediately composed himself and continued cheekily, “but like you said, I might not be missing out on much. Besides, I still get to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.”
 He smirked and winked at me, and I giggled at the playful look in his eyes. Dean was such a good man and clearly had a sweet soul. He was kind, thoughtful, and funny, and not at all like my fiancé Paul, well, my ex-fiancé Paul. The thought of him brought a scowl to my face. “I thought I was in love with Paul… but now how can I love a man who not only lied and betrayed me but physically hurt me…”
 “He’s an idiot Y/N. No, not just an idiot. A very bad man who should disappear from your life. You deserve so much better…” He said looking deep into my eyes. His eyes were so beautifully green. They were warm and I wouldn’t have minded getting lost in them. “You are an amazing woman Y/N, you’re intelligent, and nice, and caring, and… beautiful, and…”
 Dean couldn’t keep track of his train of thought as glanced down to my lips. He looked back up and we kept gazing into each other’s eyes, and maybe it was the alcohol we’d had but we seemed to be leaning into each other. I closed my eyes and I felt the soft graze of his lips on mine. The touch seemed to break him out of the trance-like state he was in and he jumped back with his eyes wide like saucers and his mouth opening and closing without making any noise, making him look like a fish. His face reddened slightly.
 “Oh God… Y/N I-I’m so sorry, I-I I shouldn’t have, I-I’m sorry! Oh God…” he held his forehead with one hand looking terrified.
 “Don’t apologize Dean, I shouldn’t have either. I’m the one who should be sorry,” I tried to calm him, embarrassed at my reaction to him. He’s a priest for God’s sake Y/N! Get yourself together! But he was so endearing when flustered. 
 Dean calmed down but gets up from the couch. “Ummm… You must be very tired, it’s been a long day for you,” he stated. “You take the bed, I-I’ll sleep on the couch.”
 “No, Dean I couldn’t! This is your house, if anyone should take the couch is me,” I reply quickly. “You’ve already been so kind to me, I really don’t want to intrude.”
 “Please Y/N, you’re my guest. Take the bed,” he asked with a soft smile on his face.
 His face was almost pleading, so I gently nodded. “All right Dean, goodnight,” I said while walking towards the bedroom.
 “Oh, and Dean…” I stopped and turned to him with a tender smile on my face, “Thank you for everything. I mean it.” This made him give me the brightest smile I’d ever seen.
 I made my way to the bed and got in thinking about today’s events. I fell asleep with a warm feeling inside me; maybe it had something to do with the whiskey or maybe with the man peacefully sleeping in the next room. Huh.
 Maybe things do happen for a reason.
  To be continued?...
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