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#he is so pathetic I don’t think he realises that
piedinthepiper · 2 days
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Before: Disease ˖ ⊹
Yandere!jimin x bully!reader
Summary: Before everything went down in his doctors office
Warnings: bullying, mention of smut, swearing
Wc: 2.1 k
A/n: someone requested the backstory to disease, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!
This can be read as both a pt. 1 or pt. 2 to Disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!
Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!
How could you be so perfect? Walking down the halls with your books tucked close to your chest. Talking and casually laughing with one of your friends. You always walked front and center. Like you were the mean girl. But you weren’t. Or you were, but he didn’t mind. You were his mean girl. You were the only reason Jimin hadn’t dropped out of school yet. He actually looked forward to every day now. Knowing that he’d see you. And if he was lucky he would maybe even get to talk to you. Or more you talk to him. Yell at him. Call him names and insult him. That’s what he loved so much about you. Your honesty. Always so straight forward. You were just perfect. Gorgeous. Always in skirts, sometimes they were really short. Not that he looked or anything, he was sure you would kill him if you found that out. But he was a man wasn’t he? What’s wrong about admiring a good pair of legs? You wanted to show them off didn’t you? He wondered if it was for him. If you knew the effect you had on him. The way he would think about you while touching himself. Pretending to fuck you pretty pussy instead of his cold hands. He knew it would happen one day. One day you would realise that the two of you were meant to be. He had known that since the day he met you. He would never forget that day.
“Watch it, nerd.”
The three first words you ever spoke to him. Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see who he bumped into, but also who that angelic voice belonged to. He was met with you. The most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked into. He stood there in awe. Taking in all your features. Eyes trailing up and down your body. Once he reached your eyes again he saw that your perfectly shaped eyebrows were frowning.
“Eww what’s wrong with you?!”
You asked sounding almost disgusted.
“Did you see the way he looked at me? Oh my god.”
You asked your friends who all looked even more disgusted than you.
“You could at least say sorry you know?”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“I- I-. You’re pathetic.”
You mocked him before turning around and walking away.
“Watch where you’re going next time loser.”
One of your friends added before she joined the rest. He didn’t care for your friends. All he could think about was you. Your words who were supposed to hurt him, had another impact. All he wanted to hear was your voice again.
Three years later his feelings were still the same. Your bond had only grown stronger after that eventful day. Your relationship had become a daily thing, and he couldn’t be more happy.
“God you’re such a nerd.”
You said as you sat down opposite of him, throwing your bag onto the floor next to you. He was studying for the next science exam in the library, one of the places he never thought he’d meet you. Not that he didn’t think you read or anything. It just didn’t suit you. You were too gorgeous to be surrounded by yellowing walls and cheap plastic chairs.
“Y/n!”
He said your name a little too excited, and was met with yet another disgusted facial expression.
“Anyways… you’re going to help me.”
You said.
“Sure. I’ll help you.”
You scoffed at his answer.
“It wasn’t a question.”
You added mockingly.
“You see, I need to pass the science exam. And the only one I know that has a miserable enough life to even care about science is you.”
He tried his best to hide his growing smile. You addressed him as someone you know. You think about him!
“I can make you pass.”
“You better.”
You got up from the chair and brushed off imaginary dust from your skirt.
“When you’re finished you’ll switch papers with me. I’ll make sure we’re seated next to each other.”
He was too busy checking out your figure to even comprehend what you were saying at that moment. You snapped your fingers at him.
“Hello? Stop fucking looking at me, freak.”
You said, and brought him back from his thoughts. That’s when he understood the reality of your words. If he switched papers with you he would fail, and he couldn’t put his career at risk. No matter how much he loved you.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
He stated and looked up at you, scared of what you would say next. You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Again, it wasn’t a question.”
He got up from his chair when he saw you were about to turn around and leave.
“Seriously, y/n. I can’t fail. I won’t get into-“
“Blah blah blah. Does it look like I care? You’ll do as I say.”
You interrupted him. He gulped at your tone, sometimes you could be really scary.
“But-“
“Listen here, dumbass.”
You suddenly reached over the table and grabbed him by his collar.
“How hard is it to get into your thick skull, huh?You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t do as I say. Alright?”
He nodded carefully, and you let him go. You stayed bent over the table though. Jimin couldn’t help but look at your prominent cleavage. You slowly moved your hand to his face, he was ready to feel the embrace of your hand. He closed his eyes waiting for the moment, but was met with the sudden feeling of his glasses being slipped off his nose. He looked at you again, confused.
“Take this as a warning.”
You said coldly and threw the glasses on the grown. Thankfully they didn’t break. But the feeling of relief suddenly stopped as he watched your foot stomp down onto them. The sound of broken glass was heard through the library. He let out a little gasp.
“See you in a week.”
You said before you walked away, swaying your hips as you exited the library. What the fuck was he going to do?
He knew he had to help you. He didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, even if it meant you would put your hands on him. Besides he’d do anything to help you succeed. Maybe he would even get a thank you? He thought, bringing the science book even closer to his face. You had broken his glasses, a bit unnecessary in his opinion, but he won’t question your judgment. In order to study he had to have the book so close to his face he could feel it brush against his nose. He had come up with a plan though. If he studied even harder he could be able to finish your test super quick, and then he could just fill out the same answers on his own. It was his only option. So now he sat in his dark room with only the small table lamp lit. Book in his face as he desperately tried to remember everything for the exam.
He walked into the classroom, mentally going through all the information he read the night before. He saw you in the back. A finger twirling your gorgeous shiny hair as you looked him up and down. The sight alone was enough for his pants to tighten. He moved his textbooks down to his hips so you wouldn’t see the effect you had on him.
“Nice glasses.”
You sarcastically said. Giving him an evil smile. He pushed his new glasses higher up on his nose as he sat down beside you.
“Not even a thank you? How rude you are, Jimin.”
He almost moaned out loud when he heard his name fall from your lips. You rarely used his name, so whenever he was lucky enough to hear it from you he would usually have to go to the toilet and jerk off. If only you knew what you did to him.
“I’m sorry.”
He mumbled. You just scoffed at him before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair to listen to the teacher who started speaking.
The exam went great. He had to spend a few minutes on erasing your scribbles on his sheet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to hand in an exam with “nerd” written all over it. But it went well, you didn’t get caught and both of you would get a good grade. He couldn’t be more happy. Until he saw you approaching him. He was sat outside, eating his lunch in his usual spot. You would always eat with the rest of the popular people inside. You would never eat outside in a secluded area on the ground, that’s just not you. You wouldn’t hide, like he did. So he knew you didn’t come to join him. He quickly swallowed before you were able to talk to him. Ready to hear whatever you had to say. But you walked right passed him. He followed you and your friends with his gaze as he saw the three of you heading to the parking lot. He realised that he wouldn’t get a thank you, that he wouldn’t even get to talk to you after he just saved your ass.
“Stand up.”
He suddenly heard your voice coming from right beside him. He looked up to find you with your hands on your hips. A displeased look painted your face. Again, he swallowed before standing up.
“You fucking creep!”
You yelled at him before delivering a harsh slap to his face. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He reached for his cheek that had already turned red. He looked at you and found your face was in pure shock. Did he really moan that loudly?
“Did he just-“
He heard one of your friends whisper to the other. His blood went cold, he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. Your mouth turned slowly into a devilish smile.
“How fucking pathetic was that?”
You started laughing, and your friends followed. He tried to make himself smaller. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“I’m s-sorry.”
He stuttered out and looked down at the ground. To his horror he found out that his pants was definitely bulging as well. He crossed his hands quickly over the area, not wanting to be tormented yet again. But it was too late. You looked him up and down.
“Please, don’t tell me you have a boner.”
You let out a small laugh, a “eww” was heard from your friend. You stepped closer to him. So close that his back had to press up against the concrete wall. You looked him deep in the eyes, your smile turning into a smirk. God, he felt like coming just from you being so close. Smelling your perfume and feeling your hands on his chest. His breathing rapidly increased.
“Do you think I’m hot, Jimin?”
You whispered to him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what you were saying. Too focused on the feeling of your manicured hands on him. Eventually he desperately he nodded.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
You asked with a small laugh. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this his chance? Was this the moment he finally got you? He nodded yet again. You tsked at him as he felt your sharp nail tracing his cheekbone.
“Use your words.”
You said.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”
He heard one of your friends say from behind you. He didn’t look at her, only taking you in. He couldn’t believe this.
“Shut up!”
You quickly looked at your friend. Warning her in a mean tone. You turned back to him. Finding his dark eyes.
“Jimin was just about to say something.”
He couldn’t even remember his own name in the moment. Every single one of his senses was filled with you. He feared he would actually orgasm soon if you didn’t back off.
“Please- Y/n. Yes, I want to fuck you so bad!”
He begged. Almost yelling at you out of desperation. In the next moment you were laughing. He didn’t understand what he did that was so funny. Maybe he had been a little too forward, but you didn’t seem to care about that in the first place.
“Oh god. You’re almost cute.”
You said as your fit of laughter came to a stop. You stepped away from him, crossing your arms.
“I would never ever fuck you, pervert.”
Your tone turned from sensual to mean right away. His heart dropped to his stomach as your friends laughed at him.
“You’re so dumb! You really thought you had a chance with me! I wouldn’t even blow you.”
Yet again he felt like he wanted to disappear. How could you be so evil? So absolutely heartless? In that moment he realised what he had to do. He was going to get his revenge one day. Just you wait.
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When You're Hurting I'll Fix What I Can - 2,041 Words
A Tech-heavy fic where Omega is sick!
I always struggle writing Tech so please be kind, I've done my best...
This fic is part of my 'Kaminoans are Assholes' collection that can all be found on my masterlist. It's set in a post-Season 1 AU where Crosshair left Kamino with the Bad Batch.
As always, the link to my AO3 is here and the link to my masterlist on tumblr is here. Enjoy!
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At first it had just been a sniffle, hardly noticeable to anyone… except Hunter with his heightened senses. He raised an eyebrow as Omega wiped her runny nose on her sleeve, but said nothing of it; if she wanted their help, she’d say something to somebody. All the same, he made a point of keeping an eye on her as she went about her usual day.
As the day wore on, it became clearer that something wasn’t right. Omega’s sniffles and sneezes graduated to a rough cough that rattled through her. Echo had noticed now and handed the girl a tissue when she couldn’t stop sneezing. It had been a quiet day for the batch seeing as they were in hyperspace, and before long everyone was aware of the sniffles and coughs that were plaguing their youngest (oldest?) member.
The day drew to a close and now even Tech (who had been busy with repairing AZI all day) had noticed that the youngest member of their group was unwell. She hadn’t wanted to eat much that evening, choking back half a ration bar at Hunter’s pleas. Now she was sat in the arms of her father figure, drifting between a light sleep and picking at a loose thread on her tunic.
“How’re you feeling, ‘Megs?” Hunter asked as he gently carted his fingers through her hair, only to realise that she was fast asleep. He frowned with concern as he felt how warm her forehead was and glanced up at Crosshair, who also looked mildly concerned (which was a rare facial expression for him).
“She’s probably tired, Hunter,” the youngest of the group stated. ‘She’s been running around like an excitable loth cat for the past two days.”
Admitting that Crosshair was probably right, the sergeant carefully lifted Omega and carried her to her bunk. Tucking her in with Lula and Trooper, he pressed a light kiss to her warm brow before leaving her be and trying to get some rest himself.
——
When Tech woke up for his shift on watch, he had been expecting it to be uneventful. AZI was already in the cockpit waiting for him to continue his repairs… Tech was bound to get more done seeing as his brothers and sister were all asleep.
It wasn’t until he was an hour into his shift, and that was when he heard movement coming from the cabin. Assuming it was one of his siblings going to the fresher, he didn’t think much of it; his suspicions were only confirmed when he heard the sound of the ‘fresher door open.
Only the fresher door didn’t hiss shut again, and the sound of someone retching soon filled his ears. Without thinking, Tech let out of his chair and barrelled through the door into the cabin. Hunter, for once, had not woken up (perhaps a true indicator of how worn out he was after their most recent mission), and Tech could make out the silhouettes of Crosshair and Echo resting on a bunk and a chair respectively. Wrecker could be heard snoring, which meant that it could only be one other person in the ‘fresher. 
“Omega?” Tech poked his head around the doorframe, only to be met with a saddening sight. The little girl was hunched over the vac tube, retching as she lost the little she’d eaten earlier. 
“Tech?” came a pathetic sounding voice as she paused and caught her breath. “I don’t feel so good.” Piecing together what he had heard and seen throughout the say, Tech wasted no time crouching next to his sister and scanning her. He had a rough idea of what the problem was, but it was best make sure.
Omega whimpered and shivered on the floor as her brother rubbed soothing circles on her back in the same way he’d seen Hunter do before. 
“As I suspected,” he muttered to himself as the holo pad bleeped. “Miss Omega, it would appear that you are suffering from a fever, which is what has made you…” he trailed off as she surged forward and vomited once more. 
“Please make it stop!” she cried as she sat back once more. Tech nodded and darted out of the ‘fresher only to appear moments later brandishing a medkit, a canteen and a blanket.
Once Omega was wrapped in the blanket and clutching the canteen in her shaking hands, Tech set about sorting through the medkit for something, anything that would be useful. Given that clones were designed with heightened immune systems, medicine for illness was not something the batch had needed, but Tech had made sure to stock up on some of the basics. He guessed that because Omega was genetically unaltered she would not have that same protection they did. That added to the fact that she wouldn’t have been exposed to any germs until leaving Kamino… let’s just say they were lucky she hadn’t been ill yet.
Finally finding what he was looking for, Tech produced a small carton and a bottle containing a very pink looking liquid. Omega eyed them, not sure what to make of it all. 
“This is a medicine that will help to bring your fever down and soothe the cough you have,” Tech started, raising the bottle to her. “And this,” he gestured to the carton. “Is a drink that will help to re-hydrate you more sufficiently than water will.”
The little girl nodded, trusting her brother as he measured out a cap of the pink liquid from the bottle and handed it to her. Not stopping to think, she knocked it back like you would a shot, pulling a face at the taste but managing to swallow it. Tech smiled sympathetically but busied himself with shaking the canon and piercing it with a straw. Giving that to his sister as will, he sat back content that with the medicine she would likely feel a lot better in the morning. 
… that was until she was sick once more, shuddering as whatever she’d just taken left her system.
When she was done, she slumped against the wall one more. Tech frowned. 
“I’ll admit,” he stated as he repositioned his goggles. “That was not quite the reaction I was expecting.” The little girl sat in front of him shuddered and wrapped the blanket further around herself. “No matter,” he continued as he delved back into the medkit. “We can simply administer the medication and fluids through an intravenous drip…”
He had barely finished the sentence when Omega inhaled sharply and started trembling even more. 
“No thank you,” she stammered out, shuffling so she was wedged between the vac tube and the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear, but unfocused, the fever having truly taken hold. Tech raised an eyebrow, but simply put it down to a well-known childhood fear of injections plenty of cadets experienced. “There is nothing to be worried about, Miss Omega,” he said. “It is the same medication, and you will feel better with it.”
His reasoning was to no avail as Omega’s bottom lip started trembling as her breathing quickened. “No,” she repeated, sounding more alarmed than before and looking a whole lot smaller. “Please no,” she pleaded with her brother, though Tech wasn’t sure it was him she was seeing in her fever-induced delirium. “I’m sorry I was sick. I’ll be good, but please! No needles.”
Her breathing had quickened to the point that she had started hyperventilating and Tech frowned, concerned. No needles? Why…
Suddenly it all slotted into place. Tech found himself cursing the Kaminoans, but pushed all of that to one side so that he could focus on his little sister. Leaning out of the ‘fresher, he threw a small roll of gauze at Hunter’s face to wake him up; this was not going to be a one-man job.
The gauze had the desired affect because moments later a sleep-deprived Hunter stumbled into the ‘fresher. He had been about to ask Tech what the kriff had possessed him to mess about in the middle of the night when his eyes settled on his brother gently encouraging Omega to take deep breaths. Instead of interrupting he glanced at the scene around them; the room smelt vaguely of vomit, he assumed Omega’s and he spotted various pieces of medical equipment scattered around, including the means to set up an IV.
Putting the pieces together, the sergeant crouched down next to Tech, who shuffled out of the way to make room for Omega’s father figure. He was having a better time soothing the child, and for the first time in a while Tech found himself feeling a little inadequate. He had just wanted to help his little sister. Curse those Kaminoans- of course they wouldn’t just leave Omega alone, they had to experiment on her just as they had done with the rest of the batch.
“I don’t w-want…” came the gasping voice of Omega as Hunter nodded understandingly and smoothed her hair back. She was hot to the touch, a true sign of the affects of the fever. “No tests,” she continued to garble as she hurried her face in Hunter’s neck; a look aof devastated knowing washed over the sergeant’s face.
“No tests,’ he replied in a hushed tone. He glanced up at Tech, who was still trying to look busy and give the pair some space. The pair’s eyes met and the look on his brother’s face told him what he needed to know.
Omega was ill. She needed the drip.
Tech had turned his back, trying to act as invisible as possible when someone saying his name snapped him out of his thoughts and back into reality. Omega was now sat curled up in Hunter’s lap and clinging to his blacks, but her breathing has thankfully evened out to a more calming rate.
“Pardon?” he asked, a little flustered. Hunter rolled his eyes.
“I was just saying,” he started. “That you were only trying to help Omega. That you would never hurt her.” 
“I know that really,” the girl in his arms cried, still upset. “I… just really don’t like needles… the Kaminoans would never tell me what they were doing and the stuff they put in me made me sick.”
If Tech hadn’t already been angry, he definitely would have been now. Taking a deep breath, an idea popped into his head.
“Would it help if I told you exactly what I was doing as I’m doing it?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to scare her. After a moments consideration, Omega gave a small nod and Hunter helped her to shift into a more upright position. Tech prepared his equipment, explaining exactly what he was doing at every step of the way. Omega had teared up and buried her face into Hunter’s chest as the drip was set up, the older clone whispering soothing words into her hair.
“All done!” Tech declared as he tied off a small bandage that would stop the line from catching on anything. Omega removed her face from where it had been hiding and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of her arm. “You did well, Miss Omega,” Tech continued as he packed his equipment away. “All that’s left for you to do now is rest. You will feel better soon.” He stood and moved out of the ‘fresher, giving Hunter the space to carry the little girl out. He placed her on his bunk and disappeared to retrieve Lula and Trooper from the gunners’ mount. Tech was about to retreat back to the cockpit when a pair of small arms wrapped around his waist.
“Thank you,” Omega mumbled as she drew back from the hug and settled on Hunter’s bunk once more. All Tech could do was smile and nod as he tried to summon the right thing to say.
“Any time, vod’ika,” he eventually replied with a final nod before he disappeared into the cockpit. He gazed into hyperspace as his shift wore on, thanking his lucky stars (not that he believed in luck) that they had managed to get to Omega when they did. They couldn’t scare away all of her demons, but they sure as hell would try their best to do so.
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greykolla-art · 3 months
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Unstoppable villain, meet immovable agent of friendship!
I was wondering in what circumstances Charlie would just OFFER her soul to Al.
And he would short circuit as all his manipulation plans become unnecessary.
Cause Charlie cares about her friends and if they need help she won’t hesitate.
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angelfic · 9 months
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— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY
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pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader
summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either
warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited
author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!
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He had barely looked away from you all evening.
You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.
Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.
“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.
You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.
“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.
“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”
You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”
“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”
“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.
“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.
You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.
“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.
You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.
You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.
Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.
“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”
Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.
“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”
“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.
“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”
You blink at her, a little speechless.
“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.
Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”
“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.
Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.
As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.
“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”
“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”
“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”
Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.
“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”
Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.
By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.
“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.
“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”
“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.
“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”
“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.
“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.
“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”
“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.
“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”
“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”
“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”
Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.
“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”
“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”
“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”
You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.
“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”
Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”
“What?” you ask, impatient.
“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.
“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.
“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”
The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.
“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”
Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”
“I- I don’t…”
“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”
“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.
Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”
All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.
“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”
You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.
“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”
 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”
“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”
“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”
“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”
You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”
“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”
“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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mactavishsgfandwife · 2 months
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Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley Cuddling You 🧸
this is not about dominant tough simon riley, this is about sweet precious baby boy simon riley :3 this is my response to @paper-r-i-n-g-s-and-c-r-o-w-n’s request (here) and the link they included! thank u for being my first request loviee
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Simon Riley absolutely loves to be babied when you cuddle him.
Scary Simon. Soldier Simon. 6’4", jacked Simon, walking around the base in his skull mask, scaring anyone who doesn’t know better shitless. To the enemy, he’s like an urban legend - once you realise that he’s there, it’s too late.
And that’s the image that he likes to keep - he grew up tough, and he refuses to be anything but tough. He might be nice now but he wouldn’t hesitate to blow your brains out if you double-crossed him.
That is, until he met you. It was hard to get him to open up at first, with his reluctance to be anything but casually terrifying, and his fear that he would get too attached, just in time for you to leave. But after 6 months together, he’s finally comfortable, and you’ve discovered his soft spot for being praised like a baby.
"Aww…" you coo, stroking his grown-out buzzcut, as he lays on your chest, "my sweet boy." His broad body is holding you down to the bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from under him if you wanted to. But you don’t mind, after all, it’s sweet to see him like this. With his face pressed into your neck, one strong arm around your waist and the other around your torso, he mumbles softly.
You press soft kisses into the top of his head as you rub his back - he’s been training all day and he’s so tired. :( Poor baby, he really needs you to hold him. His shoulders are sore and as you rub them gently he lets out a little whine, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck.
"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled against your skin.
"Oh, baby…" you pull those hands back up to cradle him to you, "are you okay, sweet boy?"
"Tha’ hurts," he mumbles. He’s not very talkative when he’s like this, he just wants to be held.
"Sorry," you kiss the top of his head apologetically, "is my poor baby sore from training?" He groans as you call him that, nodding in response as he breathes in your scent.
"Speak up for me, sweetheart" you coo.
"’M sore from training."
"Who’s sore..?"
"Me."
"N what’re you, honey..?" you stroke his hair softly, like he’s a precious teddy bear.
"Your baby," he mumbles.
"Good boy." Just a few months ago, Simon would have been mortified by the interaction, but you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, cuddling up to you like he’s a cat and you’re a heating pad. He is a good boy, and he deserves some comfort after working so hard. 💗💗💗
(my other - nsfw - story about pathetic simon here)
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i hope this is what you asked for! i hope it doesn’t come off as too pathetic but also i love writing (and thinking about) sweet pathetic simon. <3 like omg if anyone knows who made the render then lmk so that i can credit! i wasn’t sure who the name on the image referred to
masterlist buy me a coffee
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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jealous finnick?
jealous finnick will be the death of me!!!!!!
finnick odair x fem!reader
Breakfast in District 13 is an unusual affair. Nothing like you’re used to, being from District 4. It’s the same every morning — boring grey oatmeal with either honey or berries, depending on the day. It’s only as you take your seat next to Finnick that you realise you’ve forgotten the very crucial toppings.
“Oh no, I forgot to get berries,” you bemoan. They’re definitely all gone by now, seeing as they’re in popular demand — the oatmeal served in 13 tastes like cardboard without them.
“Here, have mine,” Gale says from across the table. You open your mouth to protest but he’s already spooning a big heap of berries into your bowl. They bleed red and purple into your otherwise plain oatmeal. “I don’t like ‘em, anyway. Too sour.”
“Oh.” You smile at him, flattered. Gale’s been nothing but kind to you since you arrived in District 13. You haven’t put it down to anything other than friendliness. Though it’s possible you’re too enamoured with the blonde next to you that you’re completely oblivious to other men’s advances. “Thanks, Gale.”
Gales smiles back and shrugs. “No problem, Y/N.”
Next to you and unbeknownst to you, Finnick scowls. He hates that Gale’s so nice to you. Loathes it. He knows it’s because you’re a ray of sunshine who draws even the coldest of people in (believe him, he’s experienced it), but the fact that Gale gave you his berries before Finnick could even offer his makes his blood boil. 
Who does he think he is? Everyone knows you’re Finnick’s girl, he’s made it very clear. It’s the whole reason you’re here, after all — Finnick specifically requested you be picked up from home before the Quarter Quell ended, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Breakfast passes without further incident. If you notice Finnick’s sour mood, you don’t mention it. You’re leaving the canteen with everyone else when Finnick grabs your waist and pulls you to the side, into an empty hallway. He peers over your shoulder to make sure Gale’s good and gone, watching the back of his head with a glare that could kill, before turning his attention to you.
“Finnick,” you say, clearly confused at his sudden manhandling. “What’s the matter with you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Finnick says shortly.
“You look mad.”
“I’m not.”
You squint at him. “You’re definitely mad. Why are you—?”
Finnick forgoes restraint and yanks you forward, pressing his mouth to yours before you can say anything else. His chest burns with molten hot jealousy, it climbs up his throat and pours into the kiss, hot and sticky. The heat ebbs though, when you kiss him back just as fervently, replaced by a fuzzy warmth only you can make him feel. It buzzes in his chest and down his arms, flares out his palm as he takes your face into one hot hand.
He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d drawn in. “You know Gale’s flirting with you, right?” He says abruptly, thumb pressed to your cheekbone.
You blink up at him, still dazed from his kissing. “What?” You ask, half laughing. “No, he’s not.”
“He is. He gave you his berries. I was going to give you mine.”
You raise both eyebrows. “He was just being nice to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.”
Finnick supposes he sounds quite pathetic. He doesn’t really care, not when your eyes go all gooey and you reach up on your tiptoes to push a curl from his forehead.
“Are you jealous?” You ask him softly, tucking his hair behind his ear. Your breath fans over his mouth and your hand lingers at his throat. “You sound jealous.”
Finnick rolls his eyes. “So what if I am? Just— have mine next time, okay?”
You smile at him, pretty as starlight. “Okay. But you don’t have to be jealous, you know? I only want you.”
Woah, Finnick thinks. “I know,” he says, too quick, his voice a notch too high.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Do you though?” You ask, definitely teasing now. He supposes he got off lucky, you could’ve done much worse finding out he’s so sickeningly jealous over Gale, of all people.
Still, Finnick narrows his eyes at you. “Alright, that’s enough.”
Your answering giggle is smothered as Finnick swoops in to kiss you again.
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍
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kingkatsuki · 3 months
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Bakugou being so in love with you but he won’t ever admit it, my beloved.
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Can you imagine Bakugou, who’s been in love with you since the moment he met you, catching you one evening trying to bake cupcakes in the kitchen. And he can see how angry and frustrated you are instantly, even without the evidence of many many failed attempts strewn all over the countertop.
Uneven batter, burnt edges, no rise— each time seems to get worse, even though you’re following the recipe to a T. But it’s late, you’re exhausted, and the only pleasure you have now is eating the leftover cake mix off your wooden spoon as you sit on the counter overlooking the mess you know you’ll have to clean up.
“You’ll get sick eating raw cake batter, dumbass.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as he looks at the mess of burnt cupcake failures strewn across the kitchen, “Why don’t you just buy yourself a cake?”
“Because I wanted to make the cupcakes,” You pout pathetically, dumping the spoon into the sink as you prepare to start the tedious cleanup.
“But you can’t bake for shit.” Bakugou scoffs.
“I know,” You heave a sigh, “But it’s Valentines tomorrow, and I thought—”
You trailed off, not knowing how to explain to Bakugou that the cupcakes were supposed to be for him.
But of course Bakugou doesn’t realise that, however perceptive he thinks he is he can’t see the big, fat crush you’ve had on him for just as long. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought of you gifting these cupcakes to someone else as he shoulders you out of the way with your dirty bowl, sticking it beneath the warm stream of water as he begins to clean it up.
“You don’t need to do that, Bakugou. I made the mess, I can—”
“Shut up, shitty woman,” He rolls his eyes, trying to mask the pained rasp in his throat, “We’re gonna bake the best fuckin’ cupcakes you’ve ever had.”
And he’s right. The cupcakes that now sit cooling on the counter look perfect, all of them the same shape and consistency as you watch Bakugou hover over them with the piping bag as he swirls the orange mixture onto each one with precision.
He doesn’t say a word when you’re finished, only a gruff grunt as he excuses himself from the kitchen. Cheeks flushed pink from the praise you’d given him, the sweetest words from you.
“Have you got a valentine, Bakugou?”
“Nah, it’s a stupid fuckin’ holiday.” He despised the glow of hurt that flashed through your eyes at that, despised that he was the one to make you feel shitty about trying to do something nice.
When the truth is, he loved that you were trying to bake cupcakes for someone, it showed just how sweet, kind and perfect you really were— he just wished you were baking those stupid cupcakes for him.
If only he knew that you’d wanted them to be perfect because they were for him.
And now you weren’t going to gift them to him because he thought it was a stupid holiday, and it was a stupid idea to think he might actually want them.
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mitsies · 10 months
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12 minutes. that's how long it's been since you texted itoshi sae back. 12 whole minutes.
he frowns at his phone, glaring daggers at the poor innocent screen that's really done nothing wrong. he hopes you can feel his stare through the device. 12 minutes is a long, long time; what could you possibly be doing that could be more important than texting your boyfriend back?
he stares at the screen as time ticks on. 12 minutes becomes 12 minutes and 30 seconds. 40. 50. 55. 59. 13 minutes. now, that is entirely too long. but he can’t double text because he’s not that desperate, he thinks. (he is. but his ego is fragile.) so he opts to state some more. and then a little more after that.
at the 13 minute and 45 second mark, his hand hovers tentatively over the call button as he debates his next moves; would calling you make him look a fool? or would it perhaps save you from whatever kidnapper was trying to nab you, or alien trying to abduct you? because in sae’s book, those were the only viable reasons as to why you may not message him back right away.
he gives in and calls you. he counts every single ring until you finally, finally pick up: “sae? hello?”
a wave of tension melts off his bones, anxiety he hadn’t even realised was building. relief tastes good and minty on his tongue as he relishes the sound of your voice. how honey-sweet is always sounded whenever you said his name. he doesn’t even realise he’s verbally ghosted you until you ask, “is anyone even there?”
“yeah. i’m here.”
he doesn’t need to be there to see the expression on your face— you look annoyed, confused, miffed. so pretty, too, always pretty. he’s not whipped though. not whipped, not desperate. just a regular guy worried about his girlfriend. (he’s not that pathetic— right?)
“why are you calling me? what’s up?”
he feels petulant and whiny like a child when he speaks as levelly as he can, “you didn’t answer my text.”
he’s not desperate. and he’s not whipped. but you laugh over the phone, and sae feels himself falling, positively swooning like the sappiest little bitch in town.
“babe, my last text to you was ‘bye’. i had to drive.”
oh. he supposes that you’re right. embarrassment mixes with indignation mixed with unbridled affection as he grasps for straws, “i know. i just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”
he hears you snort a laugh on the other end of the phone and he’s melting again despite his unchanged appearance. his free hand thrums against the table he’s seated at as he hangs on your every word, movement, sound, action.
“sure. sure you did. and now that you know i’m okay, it’s cool if i hang up, right?”
he responds a little too quickly. “no. stay on the line.”
“why should i?”
he narrows his eyes. “don’t be difficult.”
“okay. i’ll leave, then—“
“wait.”
a pause. he speaks again: “i just want to talk to you. stay with me.”
you almost want to push more, to tease a bit. to make him say please. but your stomach is already churning like crazy and you’ve got a swath of butterflies in your chest and god, do you love him. so you just say, “okay.”
you hear the slightest smile in his voice when he replies. “thank you.”
itoshi sae is usually not desperate. he’s not whipped, he doesn’t say please, he doesn’t say thanks. but for you? he thinks he can change the rules, just a little, if that’s what it means to have you.
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The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader
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Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.
Warnings: violence, swearing, blood
Wc: 1,347
A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)
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Divider by @pommecita
"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.
Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.
"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.
He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.
"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.
He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.
"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.
Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.
At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.
Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.
From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.
You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.
He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"
He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.
"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.
"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.
Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”
~
You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.
You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.
Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.
Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.
"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.
You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.
"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.
"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.
"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.
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klausysworld · 6 months
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I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.
Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.
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Left for dead
Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.
Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.
Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.
I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.
Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.
For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.
I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.
This was the ultimate test really.
Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:
"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.
Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.
"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"
At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.
I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.
I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.
I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head
"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.
My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.
"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head
"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.
I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.
As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.
"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.
Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.
"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently
"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.
Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.
My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.
"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head
"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.
"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged
"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.
"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"
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luveline · 1 month
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I absolutely love love love the way you write!! I was wondering if you could write a Hotch x reader where their relationship is pretty new and reader gets unexpectedly pregnant and is worried about telling Hotch since they haven't talked about having kids and it's just a lot of fluff when Hotch finds out ! Thank you :) <3
ty for requesting!! hotch receives some unexpected news, but he loves you, and he’s happy to prove it. pregnant!reader, 1.5k
Oh fuck, you think, pins and needles in your hands you can’t shake. Oh, fuck. 
Aaron’s car pulls into the parking lot outside of the doctor’s office, fifty metres away, forty, less. You have about twenty seconds to think of what to tell him, and to conjure a lie he’ll believe. You’re a bad liar when it comes to him. 
You’ve thought of him fondly as a human lie detector since you met, apparently because you’ve never needed to lie to him before. As soon as you open the passenger door, he’s concerned. You hadn’t allowed him time to get out first. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning. 
“Can you give me a few minutes to think about it?” you ask. 
He clears his expression quickly, which would be impressive if you weren’t nauseous beyond words. “Sure.” His eyes soften. “I missed you.” 
He’s been away for a few days, and you'd thought it was great timing for him to come home just after your appointment, but now you’re not so sure. Regardless, he leans across the console and kisses the corner of your lips. 
You lean down under his touch. The pins and needles fade ever so slightly. 
Aaron looks good, you realise, despite the racing heart in your chest. It’s funny how you can think of two things at once, how you can struggle to put together what you have to tell him, and still acknowledge how sharply handsome he looks in his suit and tie. He must’ve been in the office before he picked you up. 
“I missed you too,” you say finally. “Really.” 
He squeezes your arm. 
Aaron turns onto the road out of the doctor’s office lot, past sparse greenery and into the city street that will lead to his apartment. “Is my place okay, or do you need to go home?” 
You aren’t sure. What if he doesn’t even want you there when you tell him? Panic flits through you and, evidently, across your face —Aaron catches it from a sideways glance and takes the first left into a quieter street. He parks as soon as he can. 
“What’s wrong, honey? You look like you’re waiting for me to yell at you,” he says. His brows pinch, eyes dark as always but not without tenderness as he turns in his seat towards you. 
“Please don’t be mad at me. I swear– I mean, I–” You stop. “Please don’t be mad.” 
There’s a pause. “I’m not going to be mad at you,” he says. He looks like he’s guessing the problem. You want to tell him before he can figure it out wrong.
“The doctor just told me I’m pregnant,” you admit, watching his face. When he doesn’t react, you stare down at your hands. You have no idea what to do.  “Almost four weeks pregnant. Aaron, I…” A hot flush rushes down your face. 
Aaron shakes his head. 
“I’m not mad. There’s no need to panic.” He speaks with deliberate slowness. You’ve heard him talk this way before, on the rare occasion where you’re upset and he’s been there to see it. 
“I would never try to trap you–”
“Okay,” he interrupts. You aren’t sure he’s ever done that, not once since you met. “I think you’ve just had very big news, and you’re panicking, but I need you to know that I’m not against you right now.” He holds your gaze. 
Your eyes water. 
“I’m gonna get out and come around, okay?” he says quietly. 
“Okay.” You sound pathetic to your own ears, like your voice is air squeezed tight from your chest. 
Aaron climbs out of the driver's side and walks around the bonnet. You can’t watch him. You’re still not looking when he opens your door, bending to touch your cheek. 
You turn into him. He takes it as permission to hold your face, giving you a quick once over before he kisses your cheek. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “it’s okay.” More kisses, three then four, a fifth pressed to the softest high point. 
You lean into him, immediately read for what you need, his arms wrapping around you and hugging you close. Maybe he’s right, you were panicking rather hard, and it’s not as though he’s given you reason to believe he’d react badly to the news, just, what man wants to hear from his partner of barely five months that she’s pregnant? 
You suppose you don’t have to continue the pregnancy. Then you panic worse, because you’re not sure what you want, turning rigidly stiff in his embrace. 
“It’s okay,” he says softly, “I love you, you know.” 
It isn’t the first time he’s told you but you’re not used to hearing it, either. It’s reassurance you needed. Just as quickly as you stiffened, you relax. 
He feels it. “I love you,” he says again, “and I’m so happy.” 
“What?” you ask, pulling your face back from his chest. 
“With you. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time.” 
“You want me to have the baby?” 
He blinks. “Honey, I want you to do whatever you want.” You smile at him softly. He cups your face in both hands, his thumbs at the corners of your smile and pressing mildly into your skin. “It’s soon, isn’t it? But I do love you, I don’t say that lightly, and so I’d love for you to have a baby.” 
“Really?” 
“Are you surprised by that?” 
“You really love me that much?” 
“I want a life with you,” he confesses. How terribly sincere a thing to say, stooped under the car roof, trying to stop you from crying into his palms. 
You don’t know if you want a baby just yet, but you have time to think about it, and a clearly supportive partner. He waits for what he’s said to sink in, rubbing semi-circles into your cheek, dotting a kiss heavy with affection into the skin just shy of his index finger and the corner of your eye. “That’s a cruel surprise, for you to have been told alone. I’m sorry you were by yourself. If I’d known…” 
“If I’d known I would’ve made you go with me,” you promise. 
“Do you feel alright? I suppose we know why you were craving Dora’s so badly a few nights ago,” he says. 
He sounds achingly in love with you. You’ve never heard him so gentle, not even the first time he took you home. 
“Honey?” 
“I love you too,” you say. 
“I know.” He hugs you, a rare smile brushing your cheeks as he leans down and in. “Can you answer me? Do you feel okay? Hayley was sick to her stomach the whole nine months.” 
“She was? Are you kidding?” You baulk wondering if that’s what’s in store for you. 
“Not kidding. Sorry. Not that you have to… well. You’re not feeling sick, are you?” 
“I feel better now,” you say honestly. 
He rubs your back, big rough lines full of fondness. “Okay, good. I’m gonna get back in, okay? So you can think about things at home. What do you think, is that alright? We’ll order something to eat and you can take your time.” 
“No, no–” You grab him tight. He can’t leave. 
Aaron laughs and hugs you tighter. You spend a long few minutes like that settling, no tears shed, just trying to catch up to yourself without panicking again. It could be nice to be pregnant. It could be an early start on your life with him, there’d be nothing wrong with that. You’d live together with Jack, you’d get to wake up beside him everyday. You’d love that, you’d love to be with him, you and him and your babies. But it’s not that simple. 
Aaron’s right though, you have time to think. In the meantime, he loves you. 
“I can take a few days off.” 
“What?” You laugh. “Have you ever had a day off in your life?” 
“No, but I should start. I will. No matter what you choose.” 
He tips your head back for a chaste, adoring kiss. You can feel it in every millimetre of pressure, and the way he chucks under your chin with his thumb as he stands. 
He goes to shut your door, but doubles back for another hug. “I’m so lucky to have you. I love you.” He seems surprised he’s said it, though not regretful, laughing sheepishly as he pulls away. “I’m very sorry for putting you in this position unexpectedly.” 
It’ll be alright, ‘cos he loves you. You manage a short laugh. “Well, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re not mad.” 
“It never even crossed my mind.” He closes your door, walking back around to the driver's side to take you home. 
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy
notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3
summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.
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HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR
itoshi sae knows you like him.
you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?
of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.
even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.
throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.
maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.
“you need to bend your knees a little more.”
frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.
after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.
sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.
the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.
which does happen. because you’re just like that.
“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.
nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.
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HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR
sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.
you get him all to yourself.
the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.
it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.
“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?
sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?
he tries to find out.
sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”
for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.
and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.
somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”
it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.
yeah, you’re really quite pretty.
“any plans for the summer?”
it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.
“soccer. you?”
“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”
usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”
“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.
so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.
“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”
and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.
sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.
(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)
when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.
and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.
you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.
okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.
winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.
by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.
in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.
“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.
then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.
“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”
(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)
on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.
one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.
sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.
he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.
feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.
by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.
“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.
“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”
when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.
you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.
neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.
there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.
except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.
you wear it throughout winter.
when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.
“itoshi sae, you can smile?”
sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”
you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”
so you notice him a lot then?
sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.
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UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR
of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.
at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.
to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?
if anything, he’s even closer.
somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.
but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.
being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.
it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.
he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.
“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.
your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.
mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.
you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.
sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.
“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.
the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.
that night sae asks you to send him the picture.
yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.
freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.
but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.
one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.
wanna get supper?
both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.
“why’d you wanna get supper?”
sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”
“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”
he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”
if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.
“what’re you up so late for anyway?”
sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”
you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?
(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)
“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.
he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”
so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.
“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.
sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.
so he keeps it to himself. for now.
he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.
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UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR
the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.
but you did.
he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.
to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.
“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”
it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.
“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”
oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.
especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.
“hey there, pretty.”
startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.
“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.
“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.
and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.
but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.
“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.
he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”
you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?
“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.
“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.
sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.
when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”
you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.
that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?
the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.
“sae, what was that?”
he plays coy. “what was what?”
you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”
sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”
“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.
“so what if i was?”
this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.
“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.
you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.
but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.
when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.
“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”
is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.
to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”
things after that change just a little.
you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.
but you think you figured him out.
sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.
both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.
most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.
you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.
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UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR
you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.
she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.
apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.
“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”
and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.
lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.
“hey, you okay?”
trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.
but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.
the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.
and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”
that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.
“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”
sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.
“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”
you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.
“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.
sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.
“shut up, sae.”
he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.
“what’s that for?”
sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.
“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”
and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.
it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.
but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.
still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.
sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.
meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.
and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.
sure, see you!
you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.
his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.
your handwriting fills the piece of paper.
i think you’re cute and i really really like you
you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.
it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.
someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.
“you have me as your wallpaper?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”
you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.
“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.
“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.
sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”
you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.
“sae… why are you telling me this?”
screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.
“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”
your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”
“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”
he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”
“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”
“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.
sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”
he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.
many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.
“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”
and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.
you don’t have to hear any more to know.
“i love you too, itoshi sae.”
the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.
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UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR
six years.
it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.
whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.
“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.
sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”
“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”
sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”
you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”
it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.
does his question have something to do with that?
“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”
oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.
“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”
sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”
after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.
“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”
he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”
you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”
sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.
maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?
he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.
“when the time comes, just say yes.”
7K notes · View notes
seongclb · 8 months
Text
— enhypen reaction to you hugging a plush to sleep !
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bf!enha x reader, established relationship au, fluff & no warnings :)
another reaction because they’re easy to write and i don’t wanna be completely ia also soz these get shorter and more repetitive
♫ un-thinkable by alicia keys
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( scenario desc ) —
when you’re invited to a sleepover with your boyfriend and his friend group, excitement washes over you since you’re aware of the numerous fun activities they get up to. as expected, the night is full of laughter and games until your boyfriend offers to cuddle with you to sleep but notices you prefer the embrace of a stuffed animal which he is not going to let happen.
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𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.
“y/n, you ready for bed?”
he’ll be so excited: you’re in his clothes and in his bed like this is gonna be the best nights sleep of his life
until, you open your bag and pull out an animal
at first, he doesn’t question it since he thinks you need it for comfort
but he didn’t think you needed to hold it .. like he’s there for a reason
he’s probably spooning you and realises there’s some teddy in your arms
“y/n, why is there a teddy in your arms?”
“oh, this? this is mr cuddles. he’s my sleep buddy - i’ve had him since i was eight!”
literally scoffs, “well, it’s time to get rid of him.”
tells you he’s here now and there’s no reason to be holding some stuffed toy and tries his best not the chuck the toy off the bed.
is so happy when you put it to the side and try hugging him instead
when he wakes up and sees you sleeping so well that there’s drool on the corner of your lips, he feels so accomplished
𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.
bc this would be your first time sleeping in the same bed as you, his goal is to ensure you’re comfortable first
makes sure you pick everything to your preference
including the blanket, the pillow and which of his pyjamas you like the most
almost buries you in the blanket since he’s worried you’ll get cold and sick
it’s summer ???
later in the night, he notices you’re holding one of your plush toys
can’t sleep because he’s so bothered about you hugging this teddy
doesn’t want to wake you up so he waits until morning
“y/n, why do you sleep with a plush?”
you tell him how you’re just used to it and now you can’t sleep without it
“hmmm this won’t do at all”
now has a rule that whenever you sleep next to him, you have to hold him
also replaces your plush with one that he bought and sprays it with his perfume that you ofc have chosen from his collection
if he’s not there to hold you to sleep, then at least you can smell and think of him
𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.
wouldn’t have it at all
cuddles are like his fave thing ever
esp with you
so how DARE you decide to cuddle something else
is in the middle of laughing about it but also showing he’s so hurt
“y/n, i’m way better than that stupid plush”
“JAKE, DONT CALL HIM STUPID”
rolls his eyes and sulks
doesn’t understand why u won’t at least try
eventually he gets his way bc who can stand to see jake not smiling 24/7
has you literally locked in his arms so you can’t move
hides the plush from you
also would get you a plush and say that you can hug yours and his child to sleep
jake’s way or no way
will hug layla to sleep instead if you decide to bring your teddies again
𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.
is secretly fuming
but can’t contain it in
when he sees it, he’ll immediately think the worst
“what’s that?”
you explain you need it to help you sleep
thinks about it for a while and doesn’t say anything
“hoon, you okay??” he has a pout on his lips and his brows are furrowed
“yep.”
asks about your plush, while insulting it, “where’d you get that stupid toy anyway” “how long have you had that pathetic teddy”
soon you get a bit sad and insecure about needing a teddy to help you sleep which he notices
“y/nnnn, im sorry im just annoyed that you wanna sleep with this teddy instead of me”
so you decide to cuddle to sleep
definitely kicks it off the bed with a proud smile on his face
𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.
offended
is literally in a mood after you say it’s your sleeping buddy
like that’s his role as your boyfriend now..
acts like you betrayed him
“don’t talk to me. you’re a snake” “SUNOO”
faces the other way to sleep
refuses to talk to you
until he feels your arms wrap around him
and then he turns around with a big smile on his face
“i knew you couldn’t resist”
makes it his mission to make sure you rely on only him to be able to sleep
says it’s basically cheating if you’re relying on another sleeping buddy
“like why am i not ur one and only sleeping buddy”
u have to make it up to him with hugs + a spa night
𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon
wont tell you that it bothers him
but jungwon eyes
they just make it too obvious like why are they glinting and everything they’re literally just ;( like this
who wouldn’t be able to tell when he’s not showing his dimples on full display
anyway ur js like “what’s wrong”
and hes like “hmph nothing”
BUT HES SULKINGGG and although he looks so cute u js can’t have ur baby acting like this
so u wrap ur arms around him but he light pushes you off
and ur like .. woah this is new
but u realise it’s bc of this teddy
after speaking to him, jungwon declares that this teddy is his competition
now he makes this inanimate object compete with him for everything
video games, races, who can cook you better breakfast etc
there will never be an end
𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki
he’s simply gonna hide the plush or teddy from you
and he’ll utilise his height bc hello who the hell is gonna find anything
the guy can probably hide things in the clouds and you wouldn’t know
anyway if you ever do find it
he’ll punch it
or throw it across the room
and stomp off in a puff
bc ur his baby and ur prioritising this silly teddy
this teddy is banned from sleepovers with riki
he says it takes out the fun from ur silly sleepovers
eventually you don’t need it anymore so you don’t bring it
that’s the happiest he’s ever been
2K notes · View notes
rinhaler · 13 days
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I Should Just Walk Away !
His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k
Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.
You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.
They were alive.
Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.
You had your parents.
But you’re all Megumi has.
It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.
Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
It’s disgust.
“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”
“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.
It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.
“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”
He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.
“Fine.”
“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”
“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”
“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”
“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”
“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.
The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.
Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.
He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.
“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.
“Stop calling me—”
“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.
He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.
Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.
You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.
He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.
You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.
He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.
“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”
“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.
Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.
“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”
“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.
You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.
If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.
“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.
“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”
“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”
“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”
Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.
But this isn’t you.
You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.
He’s Megumi’s boss.
“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.
You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.
There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.
You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.
His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.
“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.
“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.
“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.
His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.
“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”
“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.
Is he trying to scare you?
“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.
“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”
You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.
“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”
“No.” you shut him down.
“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”
“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”
“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.
You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.
He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.
“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.
“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.
He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.
You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?
It’s not like you wanted to.
But you both know that’s a lie.
He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.
“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”
“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”
You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.
“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”
“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”
“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”
“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”
“Shut up.”
He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”
You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.
He isn’t special.
Sukuna is not special.
“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”
“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”
“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”
“Why?”
“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”
“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”
“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“Excuse m—”
“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.
“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”
“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.
You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.
“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”
You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.
Because he’s right.
Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.
And again, he’s thwarted.
You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.
“… You should go, now.” you tell him.
He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.
And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.
He sees it.
“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”
“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.
“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.
You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.
He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.
“Come here.”
You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.
It’s a business card.
“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.
“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”
“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”
“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”
“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”
“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”
“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”
He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.
He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”
Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.
“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.
“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”
You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.
“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.
He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.
“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”
“What are you—”
“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”
“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.
“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”
“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”
“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.
You don’t hate him at all.
You just hate that he’s right.
“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”
“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.
“Sure.” he smirks.
A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.
All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.
But he doesn’t need to.
You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.
He won.
He told you before, he doesn’t lose.
Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.
He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.
“Open the fucking back door.”
He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.
“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”
“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”
“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.
You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.
It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.
You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.
He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.
“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”
His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.
He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.
Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.
Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.
“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.
Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.
He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.
His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.
“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”
“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.
“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”
“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.
It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.
You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.
He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.
“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”
“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”
His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.
“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.
He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.
He's there.
You feel him there.
“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.
And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.
You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.
The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.
Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.
It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.
Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.
Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.
The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.
“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”
“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”
You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.
“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.
You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.
Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.
Made of him.
Made for him.
He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.
The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.
His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.
And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.
He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.
So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.
Maybe he’s not so bad.
That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.
“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.
“Goodbye.” he says, simply.
“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.
You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.
He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.
As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.
“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.
Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.
“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.
“I’m not fucking—”
“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…
“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”
“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.
“Why do you have this?” you wonder.
“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”
“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”
“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”
You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.
“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”
“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”
You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.
“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.
He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.
You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.
You’re wrong, though.
His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.
He knew he’d have to have you.
And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.
He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.
He doesn’t want to be.
But what can he do?
He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.
Maybe things will be different in the morning.
© 2024 rinhaler
chapter one | m.list (working on it) | chapter three
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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months
Text
Everything About You - Luke Castellan
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Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader
Warning: Swearing
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere
also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE
MASTERLIST
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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan. 
After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder. 
You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.
You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous. 
But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy. 
“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.
Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…” 
“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”
“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you. 
“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”
Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing. 
“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.
“What about her?”
“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” 
Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you. 
“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.
“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”
“No thanks.” 
“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.” 
Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off. 
“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.” 
Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed. 
“Fine. I’ll talk to her.” 
*
The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon. 
He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena. 
Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away. 
The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares. 
He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known. 
“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you. 
You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you. 
“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”
“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.” 
“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.
Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance. 
And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for. 
With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back. 
Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively. 
The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat. 
You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena. 
“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless. 
“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.” 
“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased. 
You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again. 
“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.” 
“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled. 
“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath. 
But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked. 
Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion. 
“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes. 
“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”
You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.” 
And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face. 
Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand. 
*
“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her. 
“Who? Luke?”
“Who else?” 
“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?
“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.” 
“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly. 
“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”
Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need. 
“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.
“You’re impossible.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.” 
“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.” 
“Bitch.”  
*
When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious. 
Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.
Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies. 
It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring. 
You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy. 
“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile. 
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”
“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned. 
“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 
It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.
“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head. 
“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her. 
“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked. 
You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new. 
“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. 
Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender. 
“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”
Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa. 
“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate. 
“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly. 
You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms. 
“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”
“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.
You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head. 
“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”
“Uh-”
“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake. 
“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted. 
“Shut up.” 
*
Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’. 
She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went. 
You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was. 
“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.” 
“She could be lying to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods. 
Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff. 
You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction. 
“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff. 
“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else. 
Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation. 
Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings. 
“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”
You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust). 
“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods. 
“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response. 
You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.  
Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not. 
That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag. 
“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked. 
“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper. 
You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning. 
He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed. 
Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one. 
You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.
And, as always, he defeated you eventually. 
He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin. 
“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours. 
“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 
He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?” 
Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen. 
And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him. 
“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory. 
*
It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag. 
Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset. 
He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her. 
“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand. 
Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now. 
“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.
“With Chiron. He got claimed.”
“What? By who-?”
“Posiedon.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. 
“You’re joking. No fucking way.”
“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 
“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?” 
Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 
Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks. 
“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!” 
“What, no it’s not-” 
“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?” 
Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before. 
He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening. 
As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts. 
Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table. 
Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care. 
He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him. 
The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food. 
He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?
*
As it turned out, it could be really bad. 
Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate. 
As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly. 
And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered. 
She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull. 
And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses. 
They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake. 
All the things you liked to do. 
He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself. 
And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames. 
Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them. 
And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him. 
At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go. 
But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck. 
He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t. 
But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.
Why were you hurt?
*
As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?
You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way. 
He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you? 
 Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend. 
And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart. 
You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth). 
So why were you so devastated?
You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend. 
“Hey!” 
You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you. 
“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy. 
“Why’d you run away from the campfire?” 
“Just needed some air.” 
“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”
“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically. 
He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship. 
“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back. 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.
“What?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.” 
He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement. 
“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.” 
You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that. 
“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained. 
“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous. 
“So what are you-”
“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across. 
“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.
“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.” 
You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity. 
“You’re being serious?” You asked.
“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly. 
You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”
Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you. 
And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body. 
He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again. 
Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him. 
“Wait, so you really mean it?”
“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”
“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”
“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body. 
“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 
“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.” 
At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.
“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.” 
You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.” 
“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.
You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that. 
So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 
“Believe me now?”
“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.” 
He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego. 
“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.” 
That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.
“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” 
“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.” 
548 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 10 months
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x : AFTERGLOW :*+゚ it's all me, just don't go !
in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.
warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.
a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.
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you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 
your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 
when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?
when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?
the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 
the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.
so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.
after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.
you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 
he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 
you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.
and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.
except it doesn’t.  
from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.
you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.
it feels like you’re living with a ghost.
some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 
you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 
but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 
it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 
it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.
(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“why are you late?” 
you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 
coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 
he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 
“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.
“hello.”
“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.
the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”
(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)
“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”
rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.
when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.
when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.
perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.
“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.
“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”
“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”
he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.
“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.
“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”
“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”
your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.
“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”
“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 
“it’s not about that-”
“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 
there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 
rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.
“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.
in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 
your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 
the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 
“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 
“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”
you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.
“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”
“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”
“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”
“no.”
“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”
“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.
the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 
you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”
he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”
“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”
the thread keeps unravelling.
“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”
“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”
when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.
he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 
the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 
that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.
he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.
you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.
except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 
the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?
was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?
checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.
he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.
a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.
you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 
you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.
reo: Are you still coming to my party?
you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.
y/n: not anymore. what’s up?
reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun
y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?
reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come
reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood
you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 
besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.
wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”
“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”
“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”
bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”
a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 
the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”
“yeah. reo told me.”
“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”
“i wonder if rin knows.”
“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”
“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”
“probably.”
a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 
isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 
bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!
but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”
the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 
“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.
“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”
“yes but-”
“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”
without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 
“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 
“nah.”
“agreed.”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
you should have never come to this party.
how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs
“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.
“y/n!” 
“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.
except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.
“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”
“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 
“not until you listen to me!”
fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.
you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.
rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.
“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 
he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 
“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 
“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”
“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”
you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”
“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.
“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”
there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.
then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.
quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 
he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.
swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”
“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”
“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”
“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”
“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”
“-we won’t work like that.”
“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 
the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.
a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 
a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 
“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”
please don’t cry because of me.
“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 
rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”
“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 
“-i do.”
“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”
“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 
still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 
even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 
you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 
“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 
“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”
“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”
he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 
tears dance along his lashline. 
“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 
words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 
i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”
the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 
“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 
you cave. “how will you fix us?” 
slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.
second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 
third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 
plus, it gives rin more time with you.
fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 
fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.
sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.
and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).
rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.
now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 
then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.
a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 
you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.
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