#i initially wanted to colour it but then i wondered why my brain was working against me and very quickly decided that colouring all that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetheartsaku · 25 days

Text

—HAIKYU!! various ; better in the dark

a/n ; [gn!reader] how deep is your love pt 2???!?!! AND YES!! the title is a tv girl reference :3c please dont let this flop!! praying that all the ppl who found pt 1 found this 🥹🩷 tysm for all the notes everyone!! <3

— characters : akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna

part 1 ! ♡ oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo

tea roses !

keiji akaashi ; tip toe - HYBS

THIS MAN. he will take you out on absolutely BEAUTIFUL dates. they are scheduled and well thought out, all without you knowing. knows what you like, can predict what you order, where you will sit or do, and KNOWS how to fluster you effortlessly. UNSPOKEN RIZZ AT ITS FINEST YOUR HONOUR!!

at one point he had to resort to the notes app to write what you're like but had realised he had subconsciously memorised all of it by heart. deleted it and still knows you like the back of his hand!!

weirdly knows how to pick the best candles.

the warm, nostalgic smelling ones. candles that are the perfect dash of nostalgia, that feel comforting and warm. i wonder if its in the brain or an instinct thing

for anniversaries or literally just whenever, he makes paper flower bouquets. they are so intricate and every little detail, colour and fold makes it so perfect. in-between classes or when he finishes work early, he'll be nonchalantly folding another smaller flower for the arrangement. he does it so effortlessly too 😭!!

sometimes likes to fiddle with your fingers especially if you wear rings. one of the only and very sweet moments of PDA!! gently rubs his fingertips over your knuckles and tracing all the lines. i need an akaashi keiji in my life

will send you the most beautiful, heart-wrenching and mesmerising poems at an insane hour. you'll wake up with a couple paragraphs about how important healing or taking one step at a time is, making sure you fall in love with yourself everyday too. (please do)

kozume kenma ; cherry wine - grentperez

facinated by painted nails. on holidays he might paint them black, or maybe get a little cat sticker on his index!! pick the colour he'll love it either way

cherishes your little trinkets so much 😞 polaroid of you two and stickers on the back of his phonecase, keeps some of the random stuff you give him in his pocket. you could find a rock you gave him like 3 months ago but he kept it because you said it reminded you of him??

perfectly able and capable to order things by himself, but you know he isn't the type of guy to actually seem to WANT to do it. he is too lazy to actually get up but not lazy enOUGH when it comes to you. he might hide behind you. "HE SAID NO PICKLES!!"

CRAZY beef with your plushies. or anything you hold dear honestly. he can and will get pouty. BEWARE!! you must give him a lil' kiss to earn his attention back. (loves the forehead ones)

sometimes he forgets or just doesn't want to eat. it will get to the extent where you have to spoon feed him,,please remind and encourage him to ! eating, sleeping... just can't do it without a little push.

does this thing with his hands when you cross the road. i don't wanna say grabby hands because its pretty cringe, but it is definitely grabby hands. has no idea why he does it but its such a sweet and small gesture╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ !

cat parents but not exactly cat parents? 🤔 you found this stray cat once, and started visiting it everyday on the way to school. you cared for it, and when kenma picked that up he was also instantly fond of it too. now you both kinda feed it your leftover lunch when you visit the cat after school.. he's so precious with the little cat ueue.. take pictures before the moment fleets!

has the date you two met written on his controller... (he was so hesistant at first though LMAO)

shinsuke kita ; old love - yuji, putri dahlia

uses your initial for math variables. he'll use x or y sometimes, but his first option is ALWAYS your initial. you found this out on a study date once, math talk blablabla and he uses to what seems to you a 'random letter' NO. it is your initial!! 😞 when you ask he seems unfazed, but his ears are pretty red... idk guys i think he wants you

one of the people that make you stiffen up when they get physical. when he lays his head on your shoulder you instantly freeze up, trying not to move a BONE so you won't disturb him. it's like muscle memory to you LMAO.

really pretty, long lashes... if you've read part one, oikawa and tsuki are very similar :0!! loves when you graze his lashes with the back of your index finger

like akaashi, learnt how to make flowers but they're crochet 🥹 i think growing up his grandma had taught him how to crochet and all the little patterns. overtime, dedicated himself to making an arrangement every anniversary... they come with little heartfelt letters too!! (kita boyfie material COME HOME!!)

very routinal as well!! like kuroo (he is the full package) he never misses a morning or night to say good morning or good night. AND he places sticky notes around your desk or places he knows you'll be in reminding you to smile or something along those lines !!

what took the cake for me was when he left a little bag filled with goodies once he realised atsumu was sick 😣 definitely does the same for you... sends bag with a bowl of hot soup his grandma made at your front door

eita semi ; i wish you roses - kali uchis

weirdly immersed in the painting of nails as well. sometimes he'll ask you to paint his in black but he got dress-coded a week later 😓 SIKE gives NO shat and kept them on anyway. they are way too valuable to him to just erase. nails done in a simple colour he likes?? by his s/o?? wiped off?? very funny shiratorizawa

i think + the neighborhood, he likes tv girl, kendrick lamar, childish gambino but has a duality of laufey and beabadoobee's bedroom pop and fuzzy rock??

sick of people making arctic monkeys his personality 😞 musicians arise!! apart from the VBC, hes probably in a band too. small gigs here and there for school, and a few fun sessions with his friends just to play whatever. come to his gigs! (sometimes he'll magically play 10x better when you're around, he says)

share earphones with him PLEASE. on rainy bus rides or walks home, he'll play something you like hehe c:

takes you out to the mall closest to shiratorizawa to go pick up some fast food or a drink. it usually gets really crowded from all the surrounding schools so he keeps you close by the waist

and obviously the basic, will sit with you and teach you the basics of bass or electric guitar. i think he'd play a bit of percussion too (о´∀`о) sometimes he'll take you into his lap, but thats when he feels pretty clingy but very discreetly!!

tobio kageyama ; what would i do? - strawberry guy

please don't try to flirt with him he WON'T UNDERSTAND!!!! *gunshots*

if you say literally anything that isn't directly stating your point, he will not get it. using metaphors or just figurative language in general he is STRUGGLING. you need to say, "you're pretty." because things like "i fall in love with you every day" or "i'll find you in every universe" he will actually look at you BAFFLED. please help this man

thinks about what YOU would do. like when he is in doubt or feels like he's about to lash out, he will take a moment and literally ask himself what you'd do or say. even in tests or something completely unrelated to you he will literally ask himself what you would put in the answer box !!

face scrunch when he gets jealous ! he kinda has a lil' pout but can't bring himself to say anything. when you finally notice him he'll have this lil' (๑ˋ^ˊ ๑) face... please kiss his eyelid or the corner of lips cuz HE HAS TOO MANY PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGES!! (and he'll get flustered it's the cutest) revoke them THIS instant!!

his favourite type of kisses are the ones where you'll push his hair back and give him a forehead kiss. he'll take you in by the waist and keep you close, he likes to listen to your heart because you have his. when he feels clingy, he'll nuzzle his head into your shoulder. what a dork

will attempt to find you at his games pre and post timeskip. before the game he will try to make it not look frantic but one of his members eventually catch on 😞

rintarou suna ; SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - joji

camera roll is either 0.5's of the most jaw dropping, majestical sunsets and sunrises that he's experienced with you or literally anytime the sky is feeling a little different (if he's not with you at the time he WILL send them to you at either 5am or 7pm saying it reminded him of you) or the CRAZIEST 0.5's of you losing sanity or of you off guard. its wild blackmail material but he chooses not to LMAO. (because of the love in his heart, he says)

has a little photo album for you and anything you related!! he also takes the best candid photos of you and post them on close friends!! (´∀｀)

no. #1 victim of couple tiktok trends. pretends and looks like he doesn't like it, but doesn't want it to end. once you press post he will stare you down with his beautiful ahh olive hazel eyes (he wants more)

last one on the social med side, he mentions you in posts with your initials all the FLIPPIN' TIME!! his dedication is quite endearing

on days where everything becomes overstimulating, he will notice. will eye you for a while, but once he knows when it gets to a certain extent he will hand you an earphone.

anyone who says suna is an arctic monkey's listener is a LIAR I SAID IT I SAID IT!!!!! *more gunshots* JOKES he probably has a couple of their songs in his playlist, but i personally think he's more tyler the creator coded. people who get it get it (avril lavigne sk8r boi? keshi beside you? definitely)

hot adams apple

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #kita x reader #semi x reader #kageyama x reader #suna x reader

290 notes · View notes

chaotic-orphan · 22 days

Note

hello! i love "the stranger" so much and was wondering if you're planning to continue it?

The Stranger (4)

Read part one here

Continued from here

Hellooooo yes! Absolutely! The first half was in my drafts from febuwhump so this has been worked on in the last few months so wooooo! I forgot about this and the heretic series but now I’m like oh hon hon hon anyway, enjoy!!!!

*~*~*~*~*

“There,” said the Mayor to Hero as he walked into his office. “We did everything you asked, look, even the rug is gone to be dry cleaned. So do you wanna tell me why we had to go through this big song and dance for you, Princess?”

Hero blinked, staring out the Mayor’s window into the street below, back turned to the Mayor. “You didn’t do it for me,” they said, eyes fixing on the sky, blue cast in streaks of orange and reds.

“Then who did I do it for? Myself?” Mayor asked with a scoff. “Jesus fucking Christ. You heroes and your drama. I need a drink. You want one? Whiskey okay?”

“I’m still on the clock, sir.”

“Me too, which means we’re getting paid to drink. Isn’t that wonderful? I love politics.”

Hero rolled their eyes. “I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself,” Mayor said as he crossed his office to a small table in the corner where his decanter of whiskey sat waiting beside two crystal clean glasses. Mayor lifted the stopper with a soft clink as he poured two fingers of the honey coloured liquid. “So how did you know that showing the kid his shadowed brains was going to work?”

Hero turned to face Mayor slowly, and shrugged. “I hoped.”

Mayor let out a bark of laughter, brown eyes meeting Hero’s. “You hoped? Come on. You gotta do better than that, Hero.”

Hero pinched their lips together looking for a better answer to give to Mayor, but honestly? Hero just hoped it would be enough to stop the compulsion or whatever was done to the boy.

Mayor nodded his head to the two leather arm chairs to the right of the window and Hero obliged his request, settling into the one opposite Mayor.

“I think because he said he had to blow his brains out in front of you,” Hero continued, brown furrowing as their thoughts processed. “It’s not a clear objective. How would they know if their brains were splattered all over your wall if they couldn’t see it for themselves?”

Mayor nodded, swirling the liquid in his glass as Hero spoke. He was far better than the last Mayor the city had, Hero thought, observing him then. He wasn’t an idiot, he was shrewd and smart. He saw things from a different perspective but you didn’t have to spell everything out for him. He could put two and two together just fine.

“So you acted on instinct, then?”

“Yes sir.”

Mayor chuckled to himself, bringing the glass to his lips. “I should give you a medal,” he said before taking a sip.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Hero lightly. “Besides, that kid’s death wasn’t what the intended murderer wanted.”

Mayor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No, I was thinking the same thing.”

“If they wanted to send you a message, or me for that matter,” said Hero, eyes darkening. “Then they could be more organised than I initially imagined.”

It was Mayor’s turn to study Hero’s face as they fell into a silence. After a beat Mayor said: “you think it has something to do with your missing Vigilante?”

“I’m hoping it doesn’t,” Hero replied.

“You and your hope.”

Hero shook their head. “Honestly Mayor, sometimes it’s all I got.”

“Well that’s your job, ain’t it? Be the symbol of hope, be an inspiration. You leave the realistic side of things in the city to me, Hero, and I’ll make sure you won’t be impeded while you hunt this fucking Villain down and make him pay.”

Hero’s eyes met Mayor’s which burned like hot coals, simmering with a dark rage. Hero swallowed and nodded.

“Yes sir,” Hero said and got to their feet. They were at the door, a hand on the handle when Mayor stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh, and Hero? Don’t let the suicide kid out of custody until you find this new Villain. It’s best if we let them presume he’s dead.”

“Yes sir.”

Hero left the Mayor’s office and stepped outside city hall with a feeling of dread curling around their stomach. Vigilante should have told them about the Mayor’s kid. They should have contacted Hero, so why— there was something scratching lightly at the back of Hero’s mind, infuriating and annoying. As if every time they tried to look into the one place they couldn’t, their mind shifted their attention away from it, onto something else.

Hero should contact them. Hero did just that on the way out of city hall. They typed a quick message to Vigilante: meet me tonight? Then pocketed their phone. If Vigilante was okay they would see it, and if they weren’t… well. Hero didn’t really want to think about that.

*~*~*~*~*

Vigilante was stuck in the house when Karma was gone. They didn’t know where Karma went, but they do know that Karma had commanded them not to leave.

“Don’t try and hurt yourself. Don’t kill yourself. Don’t harm yourself or the house in anyway. You are not allowed to put your shoes on, socks are fine. The rest of your time, well,” Karma said with a horrible smile. “You can do what you please otherwise.”

When Karma left, the first thing Vigilante tried to do was leave the house. They swung open the front door and tried to step through but found they couldn’t, as if an invisible barrier was surrounding the doorframe. Vigilante threw themselves against it, over and over and over again, waiting for it to slip and crack, maybe even wear it down. Even after Vigilante had tired themselves out the barrier remained.

Vigilante turned away with a huff, cursing Karma. Their eyes strayed to the window and Vigilante crossed the distance in seconds, unlatching it and shoving the window open. Vigilante stuck their hand out, but the same invisible barrier was there, preventing Vigilante from leaving.

“Fuck!”

They couldn’t leave. They couldn’t leave! Which meant that when Karma came home Vigilante would still be in his fucking house, with no fucking shoes on and no chance to run or flee, or get help.

They were powerless, completely and utterly powerless. Who the hell could even think to win against someone with Karma’s power? What couldn’t he do? The fire boy’s face crept its way into Vigilante’s mind and they wanted to scream.

They wished Hero was here, even if Vigilante had been avoiding them recently. Even Hero was powerless against Karma’s commands. That dead look in Hero’s eyes haunted them. If Vigilante hadn’t been interesting enough then Hero and Vigilante would be dead that night on the roof.

Wait… Hero.

Karma didn’t say Vigilante couldn’t contact anyone outside the house. They didn’t say anything about calling the Hero agency, or— or Hero. Vigilante ran to the door, more specifically the table beside the door and searched for post for Karma’s address.

Nothing.

Vigilante frowned. Okay. That was fine. They just needed to do a little exploring to find Karma’s secrets. Except Karma’s house was huge, like old money huge. More like an estate than a house, with expensive looking dark wooden floors and marble countertops. In front of Vigilante was exposed brickwork that was somehow still insulated to keep in the heat.

Vigilante remembered exposed brickwork from their childhood home, how cold it had been. The damp set in towards the end of Autumn in the rain and Vigilante would be wrapped in layers trying to keep warm as the draught chilled their blood. Yet here, in Karma’s fucking house of all places, exposed brickwork was nothing more than a decorative piece. A “rustic” display.

It made something jealous and violent flare Vigilante’s chest hot, and they turned away from it before they would try to damage the wall. They should take advantage of Karma being gone. Try and find out as much about the Villain as they could so that when they escaped they could tell Hero everything.

Vigilante’s stomach tied itself into a knot at the thought of Hero. Of all the Heroes that could have been in city hall why did it have to be Hero? Vigilante’s Hero. Vigilante should have stopped Karma before he ordered that fire boy to die… God, Vigilante didn’t even know his name and Hero had to see— witness that boy…

Vigilante swallowed and shook the thought from their head. No. They couldn’t think like that. They had to do what they could right now, which was search for any information on Karma. Everything else would have to wait.

The first order of business was to find an office of some sort, or a study, or a… something else that Karma would try and hide from Vigilante. Their best bet was working from top to bottom, and that was what found Vigilante in Karma’s attic. They stood at the top of the ladder, the musty scent of boxes and storage and insulation greeting them with an uncomfortable warmth.

Okay. Nothing there.

Room one complete.

Vigilante let the ladder up and searched the rooms on the top floor. Mostly bedrooms, except for the two bathrooms. Vigilante stood in the door of Karma’s room not really wanting to enter it. Karma… there was something wrong with him, something inhuman. Vigilante grew up in the dregs where the scum of society supposedly lived; crime rates? high. Poverty? high. Death rates? high. The place where monsters were made, or so the stories went.

For Vigilante, the dregs were home. The wrong side of the city is where they grew up, and they didn’t feel unsafe walking the streets because they’re the people Vigilante grew up with, went to school with, worked with.

But looking at Karma’s room in his big, fancy house and his many guest bedrooms and all his wealth— Vigilante couldn’t help but scoff.

The good people of the city were so afraid of the scruffy riff-raff of the dregs, that they didn’t even glance at their neighbours and see the malice that hid within their own neighbourhood.

Of course, the good part of town also made people like Hero, Vigilante had to remind themselves. They’re not all Karma’s… but the fact that he was from the good tracks, the nice part of the town versus the discrimination Vigilante faced when growing up.

The irony was laughable.

Something horrible curled in Vigilante’s gut that they tried and successfully in ignoring as they rifled through Karma’s chest of drawers. That maybe Hero and Karma knew each other once… maybe they went to the same school, walked by the same neighbourhood, knew someone who knew someone who knew each other.

Vigilante forced the thought to the back of their mind as they stormed out of Karma’s room, nothing of interest lying there and slamming his stupid door closed. They didn’t even stop to let themselves think, instead they kept moving. They just had to keep moving, keep moving forward.

It’s not like Vigilante knew everyone from the dregs anyways, so it was a ridiculous thought to begin with.

The only thing that pulled Vigilante from their thoughts was when they pressed down on a handle and found resistance. The handle didn’t budge. Vigilante’s eyes squared in on it. Jackpot.

Vigilante tried again to find the same result.

Okay. Great. They should check the other rooms before coming back to it, just to make sure.

Living room, dining room, kitchen, foyer, hall, pantry, toilet, utility room.

Back to the locked door. It was in the middle of the foyer, and the walls around it were thin, maybe a narrow room like a closet? Or a stairway… maybe a basement? If Vigilante put a hammer through the wall technically they would still be in the house. Or if they somehow broke the handle off the door?

That seemed like the better option. They needed something heavy. Vigilante found a trophy from some golf tournament because of course the bastard, or one of his fucking affluent family members, plays golf.

Vigilante slammed the trophy down on the handle but stopped an inch above. Their hand trembling like before as their arm locked and Vigilante cursed, and tried again.

“No! No! Come on! Just fucking—” they cried, bringing their hand up and slamming it down again and again. “You fucking— shit!”

Vigilante stepped back, panting as they glared down at the door and the statue in their hand. A sudden, angry impulse took over and they pivoted, throwing the statue down the hall and towards a window.

Or they would have.

If their hand wasn’t glued to the fucking thing— because Vigilante wasn’t allowed to harm themselves or the house in anyway.

Vigilante put the trophy back where it was and walked to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and letting out a sigh as they ran their hands through their hair. They needed a coffee and to calm down. They couldn’t do anything else. They could find out whatever was in that room was later.

While they had peace, Vigilante made a cup of coffee that smelled so good and sat down in Karma’s stupidly comfortable couch and turned on the TV. Hero’s face flashed on the screen, a picture of them as the news anchor spoke about the attack on city hall but it still broke Vigilante’s heart. The screen flashed to the Mayor’s address again and Vigilante switched the channel with a huff.

An episode of Big Bang theory later and Vigilante stiffened. They heard a car pulling into the driveway and then the sound of an engine switching off. Door closing. Vigilante could feel their pulse rising a little, but their breath was steady so they were thankful for that.

A key slide into the lock and clicked open, then footsteps and Karma was home. Vigilante didn’t turn to look at him, they just kept staring ahead, taking care not to flinch as Karma’s steps drew closer and closer until he was right behind them.

“You know, most dogs will greet their owner as they walk through the door,” Karma said with his stupid, smug drawl.

Vigilante scoffed. “I’m not a dog.”

“Oh yeah?” Karma asked, leaning down over the couch and placing his hand on Vigilante’s head. Vigilante to their credit didn’t flinch and they wanted to celebrate that fact, until Karma said: “bark.”

The noise escaped Vigilante’s mouth before they could comprehend the command and they felt the red blush crawl from their gut all the way up their neck and to their face, burning hot.

“See? Good doggie,” Karma mocked, petting Vigilante’s hair. Vigilante pushed his hand off of them with a huff, crossing their arms over their chest. “Oh relax, Vigilante. I’m just messing with you.”

Karma didn’t command them to relax, so Vigilante could remain as stressed as they liked. Karma walked around the couch and sat down on one of the seats, nodding at the TV. Vigilante didn’t dare take their eyes off Karma now.

“Big bang theory? Didn’t know you were a nerd, Achilles.”

“Nothing else on.”

“Hmm, and you didn’t wreck the house so that’s a plus,” Karma said looking around. His eyes stopped on Vigilante’s mug on the coffee table, and he leaned forward and picked it up. He slid a coaster underneath and put the mug back down. “Were you raised in a barn?”

Vigilante didn’t answer. They stubbornly stared at the TV, tracking Karma’s movements from the corner of their eye. “Did you kill anyone today?”

Karma laughed. “No,” he said, relaxing back into the couch cushions. “I told you I wouldn’t do that without you anymore, didn’t I?”

Vigilante’s head whipped to the side in anger, eyes blazing. “You can’t—”

Karma turned his head, a smirk on his face and his cold dead eyes froze Vigilante’s protest mid sentence. He tilted his head to the side, his smirk widening.

“What? I can’t do that? I can’t make you watch? I can’t do whatever I want?”

Vigilante’s lips curled back into a snarl. “You won’t get away with it, not after your stunt in city hall.”

“You forget that I wanted what happened in city hall, to happen, Vigilante, so it did. The only reason I don’t know your civilian identity is because I let you keep your mask. You think you’d be so brave without it, hmm?”

The threat struck a chord in Vigilante’s chest that wound up tight. They kept their glare on Karma though because they had nothing to retort.

“Oh, don’t believe me? Vigilante, take off—”

“Wait!” Vigilante cried, stretching a hand out as if that would stop Karma in his tracks. To their surprise it did. Karma stopped the command, but his eyes glittered with that knowing malice. Vigilante huffed out a breath and looked away.

“See? You really want to waste your breath with threats and insults and defiance, when you know you can’t win against me?”

I can’t win, Vigilante didn’t say, but Hero can.

“It’s cute, honestly. You have that can-do hero attitude. It’s why you’re sitting on my couch in the first place if you remember, for foiling my plans of putting the saving the mayor’s kid in the hospital—”

Vigilante’s eyes narrowed. “You were trying to kill him. Don’t give me that bullsh—!”

“— but,” Karma said pointedly, cutting off Vigilante and effectively shutting them up. His eyes glowered dangerously at them. Every place they roamed over Vigilante’s face felt as if there were maggots crawling beneath it. “It would serve you well to remember: not to piss me off.”

“Oh yeah? Or what?” Vigilante hissed. They were so sick of being afraid of this fucking bastard. They wanted so badly just once to wipe his stupid smirk off his face.

Karma reclined back further into the couch, pursing his lips. “You know, Vigilante, the thing about dogs is that if you give them too much freedom they forget their place. Dogs shouldn’t be allowed on the furniture.”

Vigilante stood. “Suits me better anyways.”

“Kneel.”

Vigilante blinked and their knees had already hit the floor. They raised their head and stared up into Karma’s eyes, moving to get to their feet again when Karma spoke.

“Ah-ah, stay.”

Vigilante swallowed the whine that wanted to crawl up their throat, settling all their energy into their glare instead.

“See? Much better, now you know your place.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, you don’t know nothing yet, Vigilante. In fact,” Karma said, eyes twinkling with cruelty as he leaned forward on the couch. “I have a little trip planned for us tonight.”

Vigilante’s heart pressed against their ribs, as if it had just turned to lead and threatened to break free from their chest.

An outing planned? That meant that… someone was going to die and Vigilante would have to sit by and watch again and not be able to do anything to stop Karma again.

“No—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Karma chided lightly, lifting his index finger and wagging it side to side as he tutted. “It’s a nice surprise. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I don’t want—”

“Shut up,” Karma commanded as he reached his arm back to fiddle for something in his jacket pocket. Vigilante could only stare mutely as Karma pulled out Vigilante’s own phone. He tapped the screen and then turned it to face Vigilante but he didn’t even have to.

Vigilante already knew.

The realisation settling like stones in the sea the moment Vigilante saw their phone.

Hero.

Vigilante’s bottom lip trembled, but they fought it back, biting it to stop it from quivering as they read the short message.

Meet me tonight?

Just three words, three simple words. Meeting Hero was how Vigilante was here in the first place and now Karma was going to force them to do something awful, something… well, Vigilante didn’t even want to think about it.

“Aww, puppy? You’re not happy? Your friend wants a play date.”

Vigilante shook their head, it was the only thing they could do. Karma’s smile turned cruel as he forced his lips into a mocking pout. “No? Well, I guess I’ll just go see them alone then.”

Vigilante’s hand shot out grabbing Karma’s wrist before he could turn away and shooting him a look that Vigilante hoped meant business. Karma grinned down at Vigilante, a flash of his teeth sent shivers down Vigilante’s spine but they didn’t relent.

“No? I guess it’s a date then. I’ll let Hero know.”

23 notes · View notes

miyu-writings · 1 year

Text

A small drabble that was on my mind when I woke up.

Pillow

Established relationship

///

“Hey, Luce. What’s this?” Natsu asked while giving a small wave to the small pillow he was holding up right in front of him.

Lucy looked up from her blank page.

“Oh. That? It’s my newest acquisition,” she said happily. “My heating pillow.”

“Heating pillow?”

“Why would you need that?” Gray interjected.

Suppressing her eye roll and the urge to say ‘boys…’, Lucy stood and explained. “Well, not everybody has the same abilities as my present company does. Us, mere mortals, do feel cold and might even sometimes require warming up.”

“Oh no. she’s been reading those weird books again…”

“Damnit, Levy!”

Lucy threw a glare and continued on, “so, all you have to do is heat it by contact. I have warmed it by the kettle and it works wonders to my freezing feet. And after losing the initial warmth it remains warm due to contact with your own body.”

She glanced up and the blank stares she got in response made her heave a sigh.

“Why do I even try?” she muttered, the tips of her fingers coming to her forehead briefly.

Of course that her musings went unnoticed by the sitting pair.

“Looks like fun!” Natsu was saying, having placed the pillow on the table and poking at it curiously.

“Let me see that,” Gray grabbed the pillow and placed his hand, palm open, on the fluffy and colourful surface. “Oh.”

The pillow was suddenly encased in a layer of ice.

“Gray!” Lucy shouted, flabbergasted.

“Huh,” Gray blinked and raised both his hands in an ‘I’m innocent’ motion. “Sorry?”

“Ah! Let me do it.” Natsu grabbed the block of ice that was the pillow and ice quickly melted and dripped to the table.

The fire mage flashed a proud grin at the other, which quickly turned into a smug smirk.

“It’s heating up now,” Natsu moved it from hand to hand and paused, holding the pillow between both his hands.

“Natsu…”

“Huh-“

The small pillow started to smoke. Small tendrils that quickly became much larger.

“Wait a-!” Lucy started to say, lifting her arm and extending her hand towards the Salamander.

But it was too late.

The pillow exploded.

Hot water splashed around, narrowly missing Lucy. But her room was now a big mess.

“Natsu…” she fulminated him with a glare.

He scratched his cheek sheepishly.

Then Lucy noticed that the papers on her desk were wet. Soggy. Utterly ruined.

“OUT!!!”

That was how Natsu and Gray found themselves standing outside the door.

A door was slammed loudly on their faces.

“She’ll forgive me, right?” Natsu queried, looking at the wooden door.

Gray’s hand fell on the fire mage’s shoulder. “Something tells me you’ll have to grovel… and not just a little.”

Natsu was about to answer but he paused, blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “Better her than you,” he winked cheekily.

“Hey! What do you mean by that?” Gray started to complain but the quick peck on his cheek did wonders to appease him.

“Now, now, flame brain…” he was grinning.

///

Made some doodles to accompany this but will post them later.

I definitely need to go back to drawing. I want my fics to have art lol

#fic: pillow #gratsu #fairy tail

3 notes · View notes

alexsfictionaddiction · 1 year

Text

Review: How To Keep A Husband for 10 Days by Jessica Hatch

What is about these simplistic, warm colour paletted book covers that makes them absolute catnip for me? I can’t seem to resist at least having a look at rom-coms dressed in covers of this cute style. Unfortunately, I really need to break the connection that my brain has made with these adorable covers with good reads because this really didn’t deliver even a little bit!

Lina and Brown’s friends are coming to stay unexpectedly but to admit that the pair are actually going through a divorce and living separately is unthinkable. So, Lina convinces Brown to pretend that everything is fine just for ten days. What could possibly go wrong?

I knew that this book and I weren’t going to get along within the first couple of chapters, when Lina appears to believe that telling those closest to her that she’s getting divorced is the worst possible thing in the world. I couldn’t understand this at all. Just does not compute with me as a person or indeed, I believe with 95% of people I’ve ever met. I should clarify that Lina isn’t devoutly Catholic or of any other faith that explicitly teaches that divorce is inherently bad. So, considering that hiding her divorce is Lina’s primary goal throughout the narrative, I knew that I was never going to be on board with the book as a whole.

Lina and Brown have a friend called Sophie, who appears to think that she’s given them a ‘couple name’ by calling them ‘Bellini’. Their names are BRown and LinA. Therefore, an actual couple name would be Brolina or something. Bellini doesn’t work as a couple name for them. What’s even crazier is that the author has chosen to call the guy Brown. She could have chosen any real name in the world but instead she named him Brown. If she wanted them to have the couple name of Bellini, it would have been much more sensible to name him Ben or something. You know, like an actual, real life name.

Of course, this is a romance, so we know that during this pretence that they’re still together, they’re probably going to rediscover each other. However, Lina behaved in a completely erratic manner, considering she was the one that initiated the break up. I genuinely have no clue why she decided that divorce from a man that she never stopped loving at all was a sensible thing to do at all and I really don’t believe it’s a decision that any actual, sane woman would ever do.

Lina was without a doubt the most unlikeable, frustrating character I’ve read. She constantly gave Brown mixed signals and treated him appallingly. She then had the arrogance to question whether he ‘still felt the same way about her’ after he’d read some pretty horrific things that she’d written about him. I just really wanted her to leave the poor guy alone and let him find someone who deserved him because it certainly wasn’t her.

How To Keep A Husband For 10 Days is a very dull, infuriating romance that features a completely-unrelated-to-anything plot about affordable housing that seems to go on and on. I couldn’t help but wonder where everyone’s family members were. Not one of these people in their late 20s/early 30s seemed to have parents or siblings or anyone related to them that they had any regular contact with -literally no one was even mentioned! They also had a non-binary friend called Freddie who was obviously more masculine-presenting because they used he/they pronouns and there were references to when they were a ‘he’. I wasn’t sure what the author was trying to do with Freddie’s gender identity other than shoehorn it in to add ‘diversity’ because if they’re non-binary, I shouldn’t KNOW that a character is biologically male unless it’s very relevant to the plot. It was just a very unfunny romance with absolutely no substance and an abhorrent heroine.

#how to keep a husband for 10 days #jessica hatch #romance #rom-com #book review #review #books #bookworm

4 notes · View notes

belphie-core · 3 years

Note

How do you think the Obey me brothers would react if they heard this conversation:

The demon who didn’t do their half of the work in a group project with MC: why did I get a bad grade?! Does the teacher think I’m an idiot?

MC, completely sincere with no hesitation: yes. And so do I.

Summary: The demon brothers react to an exhuasted, overworked MC finally snapping back and saying what's really on their mind.

{Ahhh! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this done. It's my first request and I wanted it to be good. As a note, I did change it a little, so I hope it's still okay and what you wanted! Please tell me if there's anything that needs changing, or if you think it's too OOC (out of character), because a lot of this ended up as HC rambles and I can only hope it's still enjoyable. I added Luke as compensation for the late completion. Feel free to ask more requests!}

CONTENT WARNING(S): mentions of food (Beel's part), angst (in parts), being used (/overworked) by someone, insomnia, (fast scroll warning) non-moving bright colour banners, (tell me if there's anything else you need tagged here, no matter how small or silly you think it is)

It had been a long few weeks in the Devildom- countless exams, endless nights spent cramming useless information into your brain (only to be forgotten for all eternity again in a few weeks), and now, on top of that: you'd been given your group project.

Initially when you were partnered up with your white-haired housemate, you'd expected, or at least hoped, that he would take some responsibility and do his share of the tasks. But unfortunately for you, whether for good reasons or bad, he didn't- leaving you to take up his side of the work as well as your own.

Fast-forward to a few weeks later, and- exams over and group project handed in- you can finally find yourself able to relax and trying to rest your exhausted mind. Only... this is the House of Lamentation, so... good luck with that.

"Heeeeey, MC...!"

You roll your eyes as you immediately recognise the voice, but try to ignore it rather than stressing yourself out even more. Just keep calm, MC, and things will be fine.

"Leave me alone, Mammon. We can talk later."

You hear the demon splutter behind you. "N-no, no, no! This is important!"

He steps forward to be closer to you.

"Look, it's about that stupid project thing- my grades are even worse than last time! I mean, does that teacher think I'm an idiot or somethin'!?"

'Stupid' project...? The, uh... the project you'd just spent weeks working on and had had to work extra, extra hard for because it was a course meant for demons? All for his benefit?

Well, nu-uh! Okay! Nope! That's it- you've had enough.

Spinning on your heel to face the clueless demon, you grit your teeth and glare.

"Yes. And so do I."

Everyone in the hallway immediately freezes.

⋆ The very first thing this man does is smirk

⋆ You know, the Smirk™

⋆ "Well, well, well, MC. Who knew they had such a little savage on their hands?" (He did, of course)

⋆ But the second thing Lucifer does is-- “MAAMOOOOON!”

⋆ Extra catchup classes for a month (to equal the time it took for the group project), then beg for forgiveness apologise to MC immediately, and no, don’t even THINK about using Goldie for the next... millennium

⋆ As soon as he’s finished personally hanging Mammon up from the highest chandelier he can find, Lucifer is immediately making his way back to your room with a handwritten apology note (and if you listen closely, you might actually be able to hear Mammon’s tears through the paper) and a promise that you’ll never have to deal with this again

⋆ “You should’ve told me he was slacking off, MC…”

⋆ Hmm... sometimes, you really are too kind for your own good...

⋆ Still though, it’s not all bad

⋆ Lucifer quietly suggests that the teacher give you extra credit on account of you working so hard (though this unfortunately gets denied), and then he even invites you to spend a relaxing evening in his office for a while as a chance to unwind after all your hard work

⋆ You end having a rather pleasant time with eldest- a wonderful night filled with soft chatter and gentle music from the gramophone as you both sip on a couple glasses of Demonus and enjoy the comforting feeling of simply just being in each other’s company

⋆ (But of course, Lucifer has a but of a soft spot for Mammon {though not that he likes to say it} and so the next day he pulls Mammon up to ask about why he was avoiding the work, and then helps him with whatever he can, before reminding him again that MC is not just simply a human to be used at will- they are extremely special, and should never be made to feel tossed aside)

⋆ "H-hey! Wh-what was that for?"

⋆ He'll have you know he worked extra hard on writing that… that... tiny sentence in the corner!

⋆ ...Whilst you all did the rest.

⋆ At first, Mammon reacts with flat-out denial that he did anything wrong.

⋆ "Whaddya mean, 'it's my fault'? You were supposed to help me!"

⋆ And he'll probably be really touchy about it for a short while.

⋆ But then it'll be followed up with guilt- the dirty shame of knowing that he treated you (his wonderful, his precious human) the same way as others have treated him before, and then even got angry at you for something that wasn't even your fault

⋆ I mean, if we're being honest, Mammon probably didn't mean to lump all of the work onto you- or at least not at first

⋆ It's just that he had so much to do, like doing homework, and cooking dinners, and going on Akuzon and… also going to the casino and… making stupidly-high bets on things and…

⋆ Initially, when he noticed that you were (seemingly) doing just fine by yourself, he just left you to do what you want and gave you the occasional suggestion, letting you take the lead

⋆ But then as time went on, he started to feel more and more guilty for not helping you, so, very quickly, he started to pile up more and more of his project tasks onto you instead of actually facing the problem

⋆ Once he realises exactly how terrible of a project partner he was to you, though and how far he pushed you to save his own ass, he decides he's going to make it up to you… in any way that he can

⋆ Here is where he actually shows his responsible side (and yes, he does have one)

⋆ He'll (willingly!!) ask Lucifer to keep him in line, and also maybe ask Satan to lend him a few study books

⋆ He'll insist that he does his studying alone this time, but if you do intend on accompanying him, he might start asking you light questions about some of the work, wanting to make sure you know that he's trying to learn

⋆ He'll also make sure he apologizes in person (once Lucifer de-strings him from the chandelier) and tries to explain his actions so that you know why he did it

⋆ He'll still feel guilty either way though (I mean, he hurt his beloved human, his treasure, the one he was supposed to protect)

⋆ So this'll either lead to a good ol' Unexpected Cuddle Up & Cry And OH GOD I'M SO SORRY MC™ session or a long period of I Can't Believe I've Done This Don't Come Near Me I Don't Deserve You™

⋆ And yes, he messed up… he messed up big time. But please, MC, go comfort your big silly demon, or at least try to hear him out, because he knows what he's done and he's genuinely sorry- and he's also about to fall to pieces

⋆ g-g-g... get...

⋆ ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ ) get REKT bíAtch

⋆ Memes the hell out of it

⋆ "LMAO I'm at #HOL right now and I'm pretty sure MC just roasted Mammon alive LOLOLOLOL XD 🤣🤣🤣"

⋆ Originally heard the conversation from his room, but likes to imagine you looked all cool and sassy whilst saying it, like the protagonist in the anime he's currently watching

⋆ +10 Respect

⋆ Finds it funny at first untiiiil he realises what's actually going on and that you were technically being used, even if it wasn't on purpose

⋆ Passive-aggressively suggests taking a "quick visit" to Mammon

⋆ You have to bribe him to stay with an episode of Ruri-Chan and some quiet chill time playing games

⋆ ...That is, unless you fancy having roasted Mammon for dinner...

⋆ But assuming you don't, you'll end up spending some good quality time with Levi as he (awkwardly; trying to disguise it as a casual friendly offer) makes you promise to ask him for help if you ever need it

⋆ After all, most of the time his schoolwork is done at home, so if you ever need a place where you can chill out whilst you learn, he'll be happy (albeit a bit blushy) to let you study with him together

⋆ For the rest of the night, Levi and you end up having a great night filled with laughs and the occasional infodump (though this is mainly on Levi's side) as he takes you through a taster session of some new comedy animes he'd found after you both watched that episode of Ruri-Chan

⋆ He's the king of pulling endless all-nighter anime streams, so he knows how to help you relax and try to catch up on sleep

⋆ As a "one-time" (or so he says) offer, Levi will let you spend the night in his room if you want, tucking you up in his weighted blankets to help you feel comforted, and then curling his tail around you as you drift off to the soft sounds of his controller clicking, the gentle sound of Henry's tank filter bubbling, and the quiet calm of anime music drifting in the background... all helping to lull you down to the wonderful Land of Nod...

⋆ If you decide to go back to your own room, Levi will pause his game for a second (a loving gesture reserved for only the people he cares about most- that currently being you, and a fish 🐟) and, if you're okay with touch, will shakily give you a (somewhat clingy) hug before wishing you goodnight (and stuffing one of his secret stash of enchanted plushies designed to help you sleep- previously used on a recent anime binge that lasted two whole weeks) and then awkwardly walking you down the hall back to your room

⋆ Levi'll likely avoid Mammon come morning, and will maybe even find some small way to get back at him, as well as also constantly bring it up to the white-haired demon in subtle ways out of spite unless someone tells him to stop

⋆ For the most part, though, he's just very protective of his brave, kind Henry and tries to make sure you know how important you really are to him (in his own awkward, weeby, but loveable way)

⋆ ...Still memes the crap out of it though because hell yeah, MC, that was freaking awesome!

⋆ Today we are here to mourn the loss of Sir Mammon, the Avatar of Greed

⋆ To be honest, he follows a sort of similar pattern to Levi in the order that he reacts

⋆ At first, he simply finds it amusing

⋆ Like, he'll smile from the sidelines and let out a small chuckle before patting your shoulder as you walk past

⋆ Invites you back to his room to hear all about this newfound savagery whilst stirring away at some tea, casually, like "Mhm. Mhmm. Tell me more, MC. I'm liking this side of you."

⋆ But you get about five minutes in when Satan suddenly realises how much extra work you've had to carry by yourself the last month

⋆ It was way worse then he had thought...

⋆ Slowly, he feels the little flicker of indignation crackling inside of him starting to grow stronger, feeding itself more and more, getting bigger and bigger the longer you go on talking about all the hard work you were forced to do

⋆ And the way you just… smile and laugh and talk about it so casually doesn't help either at all

⋆ Don't you see what you've had to do, MC? Don't you see how you've been used!? And by his own scummy brother, no less!

⋆ Of course, he doesn't blame you for it. In fact, on the inside, he finds your stubborn perseverance to be quite endearing actually, and it's fascinating to him

⋆ But on the outside, it's… a little different

⋆ It takes you about 4 hours to get him to calm down (which to be honest, when it comes to Satan, is a record speed- all things considering) and stop swearing through the House and trying to wreck Mammon's room out of pure spite

⋆ Oh, don't you worry, MC, this will NOT be happening ever again

⋆ He'll make sure of it

⋆ If Mammon hasn't already apologised, then Satan will be dragging his sorry ass over as soon as he dares even show his face around you

⋆ Satan takes you to the library to relax for the rest of the evening after that and you both share a warm cup of hot chocolate over a cosy fireplace reading session

⋆ And also, like Levi, he makes you promise to come to him if you ever need help on something like this again, also making sure you know just how very important you are to him

⋆ He reassures you that he would never think of you as just something to use or to take advantage of for his own gain, and then you cuddle together and read

⋆ (°▽°;) oh,, oh lord

⋆ Asmo's going to faint

⋆ Someone HELP, man DOWN, man DOWN--

⋆ Proud of you in the "yass gurrll/queen 👑 ("/boi/pal" if you prefer), teeeell hiiim" sense, the "what happened to my sweet innocent bean" sense, the "my baby's finally growing up" sense AND the "well damn that's h ot" sense

⋆ Sidles up to you in the corridor and takes your arm with the biggest shít-eating grin you've ever seen

⋆ Ignores Mammon balling his eyes out behind you (🥺)

⋆ Looks back with this [😃] face and struts down the corridor, linking arms with you

⋆ Similar to Belphie, he's more focused on the fact that you sassed his older brother than the reason why you sassed him

⋆ But don't worry- Asmo may get a little (a lot) distracted, but he's also very attentive

⋆ He's quick to notice if you aren't feeling great or any changes in your mood

⋆ So, Asmo excitedly drags you back to his room to gossip over your unexpected sassing, already (of course) having snapped a picture of you in the moment

⋆ But it's only as he's painting your chipped nails anew, or rubbing cream into your sore hands (almost like you'd been doing an excessive amount of writing/working recently, huh…), or straightening out your outfit of any crumples, that he begins to notice those Little Things™

⋆ Like how your eyelids droop slightly, and your posture slumps a bit in the chair; like how you yawn and cover your mouth with your palm, apologising for your sleepiness but seemingly being unable to shake off the tired haze

⋆ Like how you seem much more content to just sit and listen to his rambling, rather than engaging in it as you usually would

⋆ When your head almost slips off the table for the fourth table, Asmodeus decides something is wrong

⋆ He quickly finishes up whatever he's doing, and insists you lay on the chaise longue (yes, he has one of those, don't fight me on this; you KNOW he has one) whilst he brews up a tea, or coffee (or whatever you like to drink usually; trust me, he'll have one hundred of them already stocked up in the cupboards- he's the king of self-care, after all)

⋆ Asmo will make sure you're nice and relaxed, turning the lighting down a tad so that it doesn't hurt your eyes and offering you a snack, and then he'll ask you what's really been going on in the last month

⋆ Once he knows what's happened… there's no stopping the endless torrent of words practically streaming out of his mouth, for at least an hour

⋆ At first, he devolves into an "Ooh, Mammon So Bad"™ rant (however, if you seem uncomfortable or you've told him in the past not to talk about his elder brother in that way, he'll stop)

⋆ Then he launches himself into a "*Gasp* I Would Never Do That To You, MC"™ rant

⋆ Next up is the obligatory "It's Because I'm So Perfect™" routine

⋆ And he'd probably go on and on for hours if it wasn't for him noticing that it was getting late

⋆ "Oh! Gosh, MC, is that the time? I've kept you here far too long; remember, you need your beauty sleep to stay healthy!~"

⋆ He'll offer for you to sleep in his room (with the completely serious promise of "no funny business"- unless, of course, that's what you want 👀)

⋆ If you accept the offer, he'll guide you over to his bed and (if you're comfortable with touch) cuddle you close, probably humming something quietly under his breath as you close your eyes

⋆ (Plot twist: It's a song *Someone™* used to sing to him in the Celestial Realm)

⋆ He'll find it a little harder to fall asleep that night than usual, wondering if he could've prevented you being overworked and saved you all that stress (for a demon of vanity and lust, he sure does have a few issues with self-confidence and self-love (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)...)

⋆ If you refuse his offer, he'll help you back to your own room and ask if there's anything you need

⋆ He'll make sure you're nice and snug in bed and then leave you to sleep, giving you a tight squeeze-y hug before he leaves

⋆ When you wake up, you'll find a mug of tea or coffee by your bedside, along with a pink-hearts Post-It left with a '💋' in the middle- a handwritten note in the corner telling you to take it easy today

⋆ You chalk up the kiss mark and the glittery white mug (with your name etched into it, no less) to mean it's from Asmo, and then look over to see he's left a small present on the end of your bed for you to open (and it'll be something he knows you like :3, of course)

⋆ Asmo's going to be taking VERY good care of you over the next few days, don't you worry

⋆ Oh, MC, you shouldn't have…

⋆ Doesn't even really register it as an insult

⋆ He just focuses on the fact that you tried to finish the group project without any help

⋆ Thinks you're such a kind soul for helping out one of his brothers

⋆ This man has no filters so he will just blurt out loud (to Mammon): "Why did you let MC do all the hard work? If you needed help, you could've asked."

⋆ He doesn't lay into Mammon like the others, per sé, but he is very Disappointed ™

⋆ And there's a silent consensus amongst everyone, that if you've disappointed Beel, you've disappointed the entire House

⋆ Gingy boi is precious

⋆ Anyway, Beel adoration aside (for a moment), he'll invite you to come along with him to that all-you-can-eat restaurant he was planning on taking you to on the weekend

⋆ He moves it forward to tomorrow instead, and for the rest of the evening, he'll ask you back to his room to just chill for a bit

⋆ You end up having a 'Fanta, Fangol and Chill' session: which is to say that you both sat on the bed together watching a Fangol match (that Belphie had recorded from the sidelines earlier that day- supportive twinsies goooo 💜🧡), with as many snacks as you could possibly ever ask for or want to make you feel better

⋆ Food makes him feel better, so he hopes it can make you feel better too

⋆ If you're still feeling stressed afterwards, he might offer you a gentle massage (trust me, he's really good; Belphie will definitely vouch for that) to help you relax if you want

⋆ Basically, it's comfort and cuddles all round

⋆ Heh. Nice job, MC.

⋆ Honestly? I really wanna say he just Doesn't Give A Shít™ because at first… well, he probably wouldn't

⋆ Maybe a smirk, maybe a snide comment thrown towards his (currently ceiling-bound) older brother in passing, maybe a snicker as he catches your eye afterwards

⋆ He's not really gonna be bothered at first; he just finds it amusing and then brushes it off without thinking too much into why you'd said it

⋆ It's not until late that night, when he's lying awake in bed like he always does, contemplating the mysteries of the universe- whilst his brother snoozes with an old, dog-eared hamburger (specially chewable) plushie that was bought for their birthday a few years back- that he realises something might be wrong

⋆ He looks back on the evening, and with increasing alarm as he begins to notice how ignorant he'd been to your struggles, he realises how strange you were acting before

⋆ He remembered how tired you'd seemed when you got back from RAD that evening- like you hadn't gotten proper sleep in a month- and how you'd excused yourself early from the dinner table to lay down in your room

⋆ He remembered how, conversely, restless you'd seemed- like you'd spent an awful lot of time studying for weeks and now that the projects were over you didn't know what to do with yourself- and how you couldn't sit still in the common room during one of Lucifer's lectures (something about Mammon and overworking- he couldn't give a rat's áss, to be frank, unless it was to laugh at someone)

⋆ He remembered how bitter you'd seemed towards the white-haired demon, avoiding him in the hallway for long enough before you finally snapped from him puppy-trailing after you and told him how you felt in the heat of the moment

⋆ Belphie immediately starts out of bed- something very unusual for the sleepy cow-boy unless it involved Satan's schemes or Beel, and now, of course, you- and paces his way down the corridor

⋆ ((I'm sorry, this is a quick detour from the story bUT--)) He hears music coming from Levi's room on the way and sees that the door is left ajar and quickly peaks inside

⋆ He sees that the purple-haired otaku has fallen asleep at his desk (mhm, too many coffee-fueled all-nighters can do that to you, unfortunately) and decides to tuck a pillow behind his head and lay a blanket over him to make him more comfortable because despite his spontaneous homoc*dal tendencies, Belphie's actually quite sweet (like a Princess' Poison Apple, if you will)

⋆ Belphie then turns to the fourth wall and tells the writer to shut up and get on with story because the readers are getting annoyed

⋆ Anyway, Belphie paces very quickly over to your room and gently knocks on the door to check if you're asleep

⋆ If you are, he'll quietly inch his way in and make that you're all tucked in and cosy and press an apologetic kiss to your forehead for not noticing your exhausted state before, along with a note asking you to come to his room in the morning for a surprise

⋆ If you aren't asleep, he'll ask to come in. If you allow him in, (and depending on whether you're comfortable with touch- as with all of the brothers, he'd ask your permission first), he'll give you an apology hug and snuggle up to you 'till you're nice and warm.

⋆ Don't worry about not being able to fall asleep, though, because as he cards his fingers through your hair and whispers sweet words of love, affection, and occasionally soft apologies into your ears, you'll feel yourself start to get hazy and very soon you'll be asleep as the demon carefully weaves his dream magic through your mind and guides you to rest (steering you away from bad dreams)

⋆ But if you don't give him permission to come in, he'll respect your wishes and stay firmly outside the door- where he'll voice his apologies to you, asking you if there's anything you need or want and if there's any way he can help

⋆ Either way, he plans to make it up to you in the morning by constantly (albeit sleepily) asking you if you're okay and sticking to you like glue

⋆ If Mammon so much as flashes a smile around you, Belphie will (attempt to) drag you away or throw a quick retort at him, making a half-scowling, half-huffing sort of expression the entire way

⋆ Basically, he's not gonna let you out of his sight for a week, and even if he does, he'll "have quick words" with the first person who shows any signs of bothering you (except Beel, of course- the exception is always Beel; Beel would never try to bother you anyway :3)

⋆ (・-・)

⋆ The poor bubba doesn't know what to even say to that

⋆ Mostly because Simeon is covering his ears, but still

⋆ Even if he can't quite hear exactly what was being said, he can still sense two things

⋆ 1) You're upset (or angry, rather) and

⋆ 2) There's a demon in front of you

⋆ So, of course, there's only one explanation…

⋆ "M-Mammon! You wicked monster, you… you nasty demon! What did you do to MC!?"

⋆ *'Angey chihuahua rage mode' has been activated*

⋆ R.I.P. "stupidmammon, Avatar of Greed". He will be dearly missed 💀

⋆ Judging by how red Luke's face is right now, he hasn't stopped ranting for the last two minutes, and-- please take a breath, sweetheart; breathe, Luke-

⋆ Poor Mammon is lost for words. This… this ten year old has just… roasted him on the spot… and he can't even fight back because he can't possibly hurt a child

⋆ ;-;

⋆ But the situation doesn't last for long however, because in a matter of moments, Simeon is hushing Luke and grabbing him up in his arms (not that the younger angel notices this; still too busy yelling all sorts of *celestial* insults at the shocked demon)

⋆ Simeon just gives an apologetic sort of look towards Mammon (though if you look very closely you can see there's a slight smirk, a twitch of his upper lip)

⋆ He doesn't comment on the other brothers spluttering with laughter behind them

⋆ The next day, and for weeks after that, Luke somehow always seems to turn up wherever you are, grabbing your hand so you'll stick close to him

⋆ And trust me, it's impossible to ignore him with those big, cute puppy eyes begging you to stay with him

⋆ It may be slightly irritating after a while, but don't turn him down

⋆ It'd break his heart and his ego, and besides, he's only trying to keep you safe

⋆ Just let him do it, MC; please. Do it for him ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ

No-one so far. Just ask if you want me to add to you to my taglist, and you'll be notified each time I post a new story/headcanon list (this also goes for character taglists, where, for example, if you ask, I'll add you to a Mammon taglist and you'll only be tagged if the post features Mammon in some way!)

Feel free to ask any more requests you might have, peeps! Anons and asks are open, and you can also just leave your requests/feedback in the comments. Have a simply marvellous day, everyone (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

-Star/Bunby 🌠🐇

1K notes · View notes

touyasdoll · 3 years

Note

Early Established Relationship Shouta & Reader, but they haven’t talked about having kids yet and Reader just found out she’s pregnant. She’s worked herself up in anxiety over how Shouta will take it. This is not helped by him coming home from teaching, having had a hellish day and grumbling about “problem children” and thankful that he only has to deal with kids for a few hours.

Hearing that, Reader just… hides everything. There’s ice in her chest as she tidies up the bathroom, takes out the trash, washes up to start on dinner just. Mind blank, but her usual smile on her face (well honed practice from years of mistreatment due to having an ‘unacceptable’ quirk) as she tells him to go clean up. She’ll make a fast dinner so he can sleep and then wake him later for patrol. He’s too tired to notice anything off, thanks her with a loving smile, the soft ones only she gets, as he goes and showers, changes for a meal and a nap with his favourite girl.

And that’s how it goes. Day in, day out, feeling sick is just a bug, just extreme reaction to allergies, just bad food, etc. She kind of disassociates a lot, mind unable to process as somewhere in there she’s coming up with a plan. Obviously he won’t want to be with her, right? She should cherish these days before she starts to show. So she does.

For about two days, no matter what he says about kids he’s run into or his class — though a small voice tries to remind her that Shouta is excellent with kids, even the ones that act out and he doesn’t hate them no matter what he acts like, she knows this, but it’s drowned out by the words she’s heard him say while tired and grumpy — she cherishes the fuck out of spending more time with him. A little needy, maybe a lot, but she loves him with everything she has to give. Everything but what she keeps held back for their her child.

And then one morning Reader wakes up, showers and notices a slight bump that she knows won’t be going down. There’s ice in her chest again, but she can’t have the same reaction as last time. It won’t be good for the baby, especially if she disassociates. So she plans out her week carefully; makes a grocery list so she can make all of his favourites, makes a list of what she needs to stock up on for herself, what she can pack quickly and sensibly, looks up apartment listings so Shouta won’t feel caged or that he has to leave because it’s his apartment after all, budgets her upcoming checks and what she has in her accounts.

But she gets careless, tires out far too early, doesn’t even make it to lunch, and leaves an apartment listing ad and pregnancy clinic check-up assessment on the table as she unintentionally drifts off on the couch. (Her iron levels are a little on the low side.) On the school’s half-day, where Shouta only needed to go in for meetings and would be back by lunch. Her stealthy as fuck boyfriend, who she never hears come in, but certainly sees her wearing one of his shirts and having fallen asleep in the middle of…..something. It doesn’t look like one of the analysis notebooks she uses for her freelance job as an analyst. Huh.

He’s curious, nosy maybe, but that’s a hero trait. You would’ve made good hero, if everyone hadn’t made it nigh impossible for you before you broke away from your past and headfirst into analysis. You aren’t bitter, but he can be so enough for both of you. You deserve the best, in his eyes, but he’s selfish so he’s going to keep you for himself. Now if he just steps closer to get a look at what’s on the table…..

Hey so I made myself go full on fucking ugly crying and decided to share for anyone’s thoughts or added writing contributions. :D

All I can think of to add is that:

Shouta is not letting Reader get away from him, from this misunderstanding no matter how he has to do it. (He’ll probably start by shredding that apartment add with his bare hands, though.)

Shouta feels like the biggest fucking idiot for missing all the signs and not taking better care of you like you deserved, kid or no kid behind it all. (TBH you’ve been carrying their family — not that either of you have said it but that’s what you have — since you moved in. If it was left up to him the entire building would’ve somehow collapsed.)

He’s gonna add some more bitterness to the “my girlfriend could’ve been a heroine but people are assholes” fund because she managed to hide a whole ass pregnancy from him completely for who knows how long while other Pros can’t even hide their favourite colours. (Most can’t even hide their lack of genuine civilian safety oriented tactical knowledge, which is just sad, in his opinion. Then again, he is very judgmental of other heroes abilities.)

He may or may not quickly realize why Reader hid the news. And may or may not feel even worse. Because having a kid with you? That’s a dream he didn’t want to let himself have, not yet. Not until after he proposed and settled into his teaching job more, at least. (Better find a ring soon. Even if it’s a Studio Ghibli’s Catbus themed one — it’ll do.)

💜

Oh God. Oh God, wait. Option 2 though, right? My brain wants more angst, go figure.

Ahahah this gets a little sad, sorry. But my contribution is under the cut ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: panic attack, mental breakdown, pregnancy, medical

What if his initial reaction is to be angry? Like he’s reading it just as you’re waking up and you gasp, trying to explain, but he’s already raising his voice, demanding to know how you could have kept something like this from him for so long?

He’s not even upset with you. He’s really just upset that he didn’t even notice. Like you said, he feels like a fucking idiot. He wanted to be there for you through all of this. He wanted all the cute cheesy pregnancy bliss that other couple go through. The first appointment. First sonogram. Telling your friends and family together.

And you’re looking for another apartment? For all of you? No, the place is already plenty big enough. Were you going to leave? He’s beating himself bloody inside, cursing himself for not being more attentive to you. You could have slipped right through his fingers. You and that little miracle inside of you that he already feels so attached to.

And he’s just so disappointed with himself that he misplaces those intense emotions and lashes out at you. He’s never once raised his voice to you, but he can’t control himself in his state and he does. He starts barking about why you never told him, demanding to know why you didn’t come to him, pressing you about how long and why and where you were going to go and he just gets so worked up that he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, he’s just screaming and there’s hot tears and he can’t breathe anymore. He’s having a panic attack for the first time in who knows how many years and he just keeps kicking himself, because now after all that, you’re looking at him with concern and tending to his needs once again, instead of him having the strength to be there for you in what is obviously your time of need. He feels selfish and stupid and starts wondering if maybe why you didn’t say anything is because you were really going to leave, because you know that he can’t even properly take care of you, let alone a child.

#oof I’m so sorry I love angst tho #like ahhh the potential for this story #just mootin’ it up 💕#grae💕#graemoon #Aizawa angst #Aizawa x reader #tw pregnancy #tw medical #Aizawa #tw panic attack #tw mental breakdown

267 notes · View notes

hes-writer · 3 years

Text

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

642 notes · View notes

weasleylangs · 3 years

Text

lightweight - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Summary: Y/N’s never been the best at holding her alcohol. Luckily, George is always there to help her. Warnings: Alcohol, a drunk confession, fluff, brief mentions of underage drinking, one line about throwing up. Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Short Georgie fic today! I have work so I didn’t want to commit to any of my super long ideas but I still want to keep writing! Also, I’m not promoting excessive drinking whatsoever. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated and requests are open!

This is also being posted while I’m asleep because I’m stuck on the other side of the world to the rest of you. Any asks will be replied too when I’m up!

-------------------------------------------------------------

George stands in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron, firewhiskey in hand as he looks at the crowd. Their yearly reunion has been going on for a few hours now, and George has finally started to feel the alcohol buzzing around his head. Despite having already downed quite a few whiskeys, he’s barely been feeling it all night considering he’s always been a heavyweight, given his large stature.

The same can’t be said for the girl George’s eyes are trained on. Y/N Y/L/N. She’s currently dancing with Angelina Johnson, the rosiness in her cheeks evident from both the exertion from dancing for hours on end and the alcohol in her system. George has fond memories of Gryffindor parties, when Fred, Lee and himself would flirt their way into buying alcohol from Madam Rosmerta to sneak into parties that would eventually end with the girl he’s watching dancing her heart out.

“Babysitting already, mate?” Lee asks as he takes a swig of his beer and George chuckles, shaking his head. “No, not quite yet. I probably will be in, say…” He checks his watch and the time reads 1am, “... half an hour.”

George developed a habit when they were sixteen, of looking after Y/N at parties. The girl never seemed to learn her own limits and more often than not, drank herself stupid at parties. Y/N was one of George’s best friends, and he’d never forgive himself if he ever let her get hurt at a party, so he happily settled for basking in the party atmosphere while keeping a close eye on Y/N. And then, in the morning he’d tease her while she threw up the contents of her stomach and she’d apologise profusely before they’d walk to breakfast together.

It’s been 10 years and they’re still dancing and drinking and George is still looking after her, but instead of walking her up to her dorm, George drags her back to his apartment above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and tucks her into his bed while he takes the couch. Granted, Y/N’s has developed some better limits than when she was sixteen years old, but it’s a force of habit at this point, and besides, George rather looks forward to it nowadays and his night would feel incomplete without knowing Y/N is 100% safe and sound 100 meters away from him.

Fred approaches them, and they aimlessly stand around and chat. Mostly about quidditch, very rarely about work. These days, the hot topic of conversation is about how Lee’s been splitting his time between London helping the twins out with the shop and Romania, where his dragon trainer girlfriend lives. Sometimes, a few people approach them and ask the question if they’re the ‘famous Ginny Weasley’s twin brothers’ which always causes them to laugh and their chests swell in pride for their little sister.

It’s probably only twenty minutes later when he hears a squeal come from the dance floor as some muggle band’s song comes on. George thinks Y/N probably convinced Tom to let her hijack the music and he vaguely recognises the song as one she’s played before. He searches the dance floor for her, and when their eyes meet she winks at him and quickly spins around to dance with Angelina again.

“I can’t believe she’s not even your girlfriend and you practically babysit her, mate. We’re 26, when are you making a move?” Fred teases but George ignores him. He notices Y/N catch his eye again and when she goes to wave him over, he sees her wobble slightly and her eyes widen out of fear of losing her balance.

Truthfully, George is too scared to admit his feelings for Y/N. While he knows their friendship entails more than what a normal one does, George has never been the best at reading signs when people are romantically interested in him so he well and truly does not know where he stands with Y/N. He never wants to make people feel uncomfortable, so he lives blissfully unaware until someone yells in his face they’re interested in him.

“Piss off, Fred. Like you can talk about me not making a move. You’ve liked Angelina since what? Sixth year?” He pushes Fred slightly at the shoulders as he scowls and slowly makes his way over the tiny girl in his sights.

“Hi Georgie,” she slurs as he finally makes his way over to her and she’s quick to slot herself into his side. George is well aware Y/N is both a sleepy and clumsy drunk the second she stops dancing, and as George checks the time on his watch again, it now reads 1:30am and it’s well past intoxicated Y/N’s bedtime.

“Hi, love,” he can’t help but use the nickname for her, especially when her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red when he uses it, “time to get you to bed?”

She pretends to think for a second but George knows she’s all danced out when she sighs and tucks her head into his neck. He spots Lee and Fred, who are now imitating whips at him, and shakes his head as he waves goodbye. He makes sure to tell Angelina, Katie and Alicia they’re leaving as well so they don’t worry, and George pretends to miss the giggles and winks they give Y/N as he holds onto her.

Thankfully, the Leaky Cauldron isn’t far from 93 Diagon Alley and soon enough George is placing Y/N in his bed and finding a change of clothes for her. It’s the middle of November, so he grabs a random old sweater his mum knitted him a few years back and while he looks for the pair of leggings she left here last time, he hears her soft gasp.

When he turns to look at her, her eyes are fixated on the sweater in his hand. “That one’s my favourite.”

George has a million sweaters, enough to fill a whole drawer full of them all in different colours, so he’s confused how Y/N knows which one this even is.

“It’s the one with the frayed hand-holes, right?” George laughs at her usage of ‘hand-holes’ and unfolds the sweater to take a look at the sleeves, and sure enough, right where your hands pop out, the sleeves is fraying.

“Why is this one your favourite, darling?” He questions, passing her the sweater. He turns his back to her, giving her some privacy as she takes her top off and she hums happily as the scent of George engulfs her senses. “It’s one of your oldest ones. So the Georgie-scent is the strongest.”

George feels his cheeks heat up as Y/N slips the leggings up under her skirt and then struggles to undo her buttons. “Georgie-scent?”

She hums in agreement as she finally gets the skirt off and drops it on the floor next to her. She’s curling herself up under the blankets when she looks at George and before her sober thoughts can catch them, drunk words are tumbling out of her mouth, “Reminds me the most of my Amortentia.”

George pauses and stares at her, processing the words she just said. George only received three O.W.L’s during his time at Hogwarts and none of them were potions, but of course, he’s well aware what Amortentia is. He sells them at work, after all.

The most powerful love potion in the world.

“Firework smoke, Molly’s home-cooked meals and… Alcohol.” She mumbles when George doesn’t speak and she looks like she’s fallen asleep but George knows she isn’t.

“Sure it isn’t Fred, love?” He laughs as he asks but his insecurities are there, shoved way down into the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill out. Firework smoke and his mum’s home-cooked meals scream both of them without a doubt, and George can’t help but convince himself that Fred could definitely have an explanation for the alcohol.

Now she’s realised what she’s said, and she takes one look at George and she shoves her head into the pillow. “God, this isn’t how I was planning to tell you.” She’d actually never planned on telling him, convinced someone as perfect as George Weasley would ever love her back, but her brain had other plans.

“Tell me that you like my brother?” He jokingly questions, the insecurities fading but still feeling the need to tease her. When she laughs and rolls her eyes, George knows he’s calmed her down from a perch she didn’t realise she was on. She sits up quickly and her face looks a little green at first for how quick she moves. “Who looks after me when I’m drunk, George? I don’t see Fred anywhere.” She’s smirking now and George has to resist the urge to crawl into bed with her and kiss her senseless.

“My Amortentia smells like you as well, by the way.” The smile Y/N gives him is bright enough it could light up the City of London. “Really?” she questions, and the way she sways in bed George can tell she’s still intoxicated and he can only hope she remembers this conversation in the morning because he knows he won’t be brave enough to initiate it again.

“Really. Sunflowers, chocolate and…” He hesitates, laughing at how dumb they both are, “Firewhiskey.”

She screeches in embarrassment and before he knows it, Y/N’s dragging him into his bed and she’s giggling. “That’s so embarrassing!” she exclaims, “But so expected.”

They roll around in the sheets for a few seconds, trying to grab at each other and laughing at the coincidences before George gets up and changes. Y/N watches him intently, trying her best not to objectify him in her mind but he’s just so damn gorgeous she can’t help it. She wants to kiss every inch of his skin and let everyone know the wonderful man standing in front of her is her's.

And when he goes to slip out of the room, thinking she’s fallen asleep, she pouts and clears her throat, causing him to turn and face her.

“You. Me. Bed. Cuddling. Now.” She says, nay demands and he has no choice. He slips into bed beside her and once again, for the second time that night, she’s slotted herself next to him.

“I really do love you, you know.” She mutters against his neck and she feels his breath hitch. “I’m not just saying it because I was drunk. I mean, like I said it because I was drunk, but it’s true.”

George pauses, not wanting to upset her with what he says next, “Are you going to remember in the morning?” He’s trying not to let his fear be known, but with how close Y/N is, he knows she felt his body react subconsciously. Y/N’s had nights when she doesn’t remember anything she’s said- not because she’s drunk too much, but she’s naturally a forgetful person and the alcohol doesn’t help.

“Of course, and if I don’t because I don’t remember tonight… I’d hope you’d tell me.” She reassures him, looking up at him and pressing a soft kiss to his chin from her position in his arms.

George lets out a breath and looks at the girl in his arms and decides that he can’t keep it to himself anymore and that he’d shout it from every rooftop that he’s in love with Y/N Y/L/N. So he presses a kiss to her forehead, next, her nose, then her cheeks and lastly, a soft kiss on her lips.

“I promise I will. You and me forever.”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

480 notes · View notes

leviaju · 4 years

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

1K notes · View notes

writer-ish · 3 years

Text

the little things

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 3K words | rating: T (language)

summary: An exhausted and overworked Detective gets a sweet surprise. For Week 2, Day 6 of @wayhavensummer: Farmer's Market.

special note: After maybe a month or so of writing nothing (aside from 100-200 words here and there that, had they not been on a computer, I would have immediately crumpled them up and thrown them into a wastebasket), I sat down today and wrote this entire thing in a few hours. It is raw, unedited, and probably more reflective of my own personal state of mind than I'd like. That said, I am yeeting it into the tumblr void and then going out for the night - so uh, enjoy? be kind? and thank you for reading. ♥️

“Let’s go to the thing.”

Detective Grace Bennett looked up from her computer screen, her gaze blurry and unfocused, as she tried to parse together the words she’d just heard coming from the doorway to her office.

“The… thing?” she mumbled distractedly, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to violently will them to work properly. What time is it—? It must still be midnight or close to it—

Blinking rapidly, she watched as the numbers on the bottom of her computer screen came into a sort of unsettled, electric focus.

6:02 AM.

Fuck.

She had been working on her reports for seven fucking hours. All the way through the night. Once again, forgoing sleep in an attempt to pretend she had a grasp on all the things that she was responsible for - Detective of Wayhaven, Agency liaison, good friend, good daughter, good—

She looked up, remembering once more that she was no longer alone at the station.

Mason stood in the doorway, languidly leaning against its frame, arms crossed. To the casual observer, his posture was relaxed, his expression nondescript.

But Grace knew him well enough now to recognize the sharp keenness in his eyes. The way they took in every detail of her appearance, from the haphazardly tossed-up hair, to the rumpled blouse, to what she could only presume were lines of haggard exhaustion running through her features.

He could likely smell the day-old ice cold coffee by her side. The half-eaten ham sandwich crumpled beside it.

Again, his expression hardly belied a recognition of any of that. Instead, he appeared to simply be a person waiting patiently to hear the answer to a question he’d asked.

But somehow - she didn’t know how, and yet - Grace knew better.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, pushing away from her desk. “What did you say again?”

“It’s Friday,” was his reply.

She inwardly groaned. Grace was not in the mood for riddles, and the enigmatic, indifferent phrasing of his response caused a surge of exhaustion-induced annoyance to flow through her body. Dropping her head into her hands, she took a deep breath.

Perhaps he took pity on her. Perhaps he realized that his typical reticent abruptness was not going to go over well this morning.

Whatever it was, Grace suddenly felt a hand on the back of her down-turned head. A light pat, then strong fingertips moving through the locks until they hit her scalp, kneading gently on contact.

She let out a soft groan, her shoulders wilting further, elbows almost giving out, as the painful yet pleasurable push of his fingers worked her sore and tired head and nape.

“The market thing,” he said softly after a moment, a moment in which she was certain she had become a barely-sentient pile of mush on top of her keyboard. “That they do in the square. It’s Friday. You like to go. I was going to take you.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate the pleasure haze encompassing her weary brain, but when they did, she felt her body still.

He was offering to go to the Farmer’s Market with her?

It was true, she did enjoy going. Before the infiltration of Unit Bravo into their lives, her and Tina used to go together every week in the summer to peruse the wares and fresh produce of the local farmers—most coming from just outside the small city limits of Wayhaven, but others from even further away. There was always something delicious and fresh to purchase or some trinket that would catch their eye. Grace had lost count of the number of handmade soaps she’d impulsively bought, only to shove them under her bathroom sink and never use them.

But then, after the arrival of Unit Bravo, after Grace’s promotion, when things got busier - when things got more dangerous - she would find herself able to go less and less. If she did manage to make it out, she’d usually end up taking Nate with her for protection. It was the type of thing he enjoyed, too; just the concept of it, as well as the simple pleasure of a new experience. Plus, Mason had always refused to be caught dead anywhere near such a cacophonic plethora of different people, bright colours, and various smells.

So the fact that he was offering to take her today, now, was an incredibly unexpected development.

“Are you sure?” she asked, barely even trying to keep the disbelief out of her voice. She looked up at him, standing so closely to her, his hand still warm and comforting on the back of her neck. “You know it’s—the same, as it’s always been. Right?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright, well—” She was about to acquiesce, self consciously taking her hair out of its messy bun and running her fingers through it in an ineffectual attempt to make it look presentable, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the computer screen and groaned. Suddenly she felt a need to backtrack on her initial agreement.

“Honestly? I look wrecked, I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I doubt I’d be very good company right now. Also, you hate the Farmer’s Market. Why torture us both?”

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was making excuses for his sake more than her own. The fact was, she’d gotten a surge of adrenaline at the idea of going now, on a quiet, cool summer morning, when things would just be opening up and most of the town was still sleeping—to get a nice hot coffee and a pastry. To pick up some strawberries and peaches. To look for a new candle or maybe another handmade tsotchke that she didn’t need to add to her already colourful and cheerfully cluttered space. And, most of all, to spend the time with Mason.

But still. She looked like shit and she knew he hated the thought of going - Why did he offer, then? her traitorous thoughts couldn’t help but wonder - so what was the point?

As though he could read her roiling thoughts - the fact that she wanted to go and the reasons why she thought they shouldn’t - he affected a frustrated sigh and leaned over her, bracing one hand on her desk and running the other from her neck down to her back.

“Get up, Detective.” With the one arm around her back, he hoisted her out of her seat. She found herself stumbling into the warm comfort of his chest, her cheek resting against the soft material of his black t-shirt.

Her hands grasped at the back of it as she steadied herself and she looked up at him, even closer now, chest to chest, their arms around each other. He leaned forward and her breath hitched slightly, but his lips only met the tip of her nose before he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.

“Change,” he commanded, pointedly looking at her wrinkled shirt and coffee-stained trousers, “and then meet me outside the station. You have three minutes.”

Still reeling from the playful kiss, she touched her nose lightly and watched him saunter out.

It took her a moment to snap back to reality and remember what she was supposed to be doing. “Right, clothes.”

In two-and-a-half minutes, she had stripped down, shoved her old clothes in her bag, and changed into the spare outfit she kept in the office: a winning combo of bicycle shorts and a light-grey oversized shirt with the words WAYHAVEN PD on it in large block letters. She’d ditched the heels, slipped on her spare runners, and did a quick rinse and spit into her old coffee cup with the mouthwash she kept in her desk “for emergencies” only, managing to meet Mason outside with thirty seconds to spare.

She caught him flick his cigarette to the ground before straightening up as she approached.

As she always did when she had the opportunity, she found herself admiring the view he provided - tall, broad-shouldered and sinewy, like a Hellenic sculpture come to life. His hair tumbled in dark waves towards his shoulders - he needed a cut, she thought to herself - his mouth naturally sullen, even when it was pulled to the side in a smirk, like it was in that moment. Hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, half-tucked into his standard black boots, which he still wore despite the heat that was already beginning to infiltrate the crisp morning air.

He looked like a goddamn supermodel, while she looked like she was taking her two-point-five children to soccer practice. She tugged self-consciously at her shorts.

“This is all I had—” she began apologetically as soon as she got close to him, but her words were cut off by his lips on hers.

All thoughts of self-consciousness vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She felt her feet leave the ground as he held her closer to him, his mouth tasting faintly of cigarettes and entirely of Mason, a combination that always managed to make her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped from deep in her throat and he tightened his grip on her further, stroking her tongue with his, leaving her pulse racing in more places than one.

After a moment he set her down and pulled away, keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Better go now before we don’t go at all,” he said gruffly, leading her to her car.

By the time they got to the Farmer’s Market, the majority of the stands had opened, farmers and local merchants laying out their produce and wares.

All feelings of tiredness that had begun to seep into Grace’s consciousness on the drive over - Mason had generously offered to drive “this heap of crap”, as he’d put it, seeing how she was probably in no state to operate heavy machinery - vanished as they parked and approached the town square.

She looked up and watched as Mason appeared to brace himself, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

“Hey.” He looked down at the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand resting gently on his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

She watched as his body appeared to physically drain of tension, his hitched-up shoulders gentling slowly downwards, his jaw unclenching, fists unfurling. His eyes closed briefly and he placed his hand over the one that still lay over his heart.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” His smirk came back to his lips slowly. “Let’s buy you some fruit.”

She laughed at the intentional absurdity of his remark, feeling something akin to joy bubble up in her chest. She knew better than to chalk it up to anything but sleep deprivation-induced delirium, but whatever it was, it was a high she was planning to ride for as long as she could before the inevitable crash.

They wandered through the colourful stalls, Mason waiting patiently as Grace felt for the good peaches, smelled the baskets of strawberries, picked through for the perfect cherries. He dutifully held the baskets and burlap bags she handed to him, shooing away her concerns about the smells or the feel of the scratchy material on his skin.

It was still early for Wayhaven and they were practically the only two there, aside from the people at their stands and Haley, as always, ready with her carafe of coffee and some fresh-baked pastries for selling.

Grace gratefully filled her cup with a smile, before noticing that Haley was gesturing her forward. Leaning in, she gave her friend a quizzical look.

“You guys are good now?” she whispered, nodding over Grace’s shoulder.

Grace turned in the direction Haley had gestured, her eyes catching on Mason. He was looking intently at a collection of wind chimes a few stalls down, his hands full of the fruits and goodies she’d acquired, a long baguette sticking out of one of the bags.

Her heart swelled at the sight of him, in that sharp, needful way it always did, a pleasure-pain that reminded her of the way he’d stroked her hair earlier. So necessary, so vital, so scary, so new: all these things that she held to be true about her feelings towards him. The knowledge that she needed him, perhaps—no, certainly more than he needed her, and the fear that it was all-too fleeting. Nothing more than just a memory, already half cooked.

“Yeah,” she said softly, feeling her mouth turn upwards into a smile she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s—we’re good.”

Haley nodded, pleased, before offering Grace a cherry danish that she refused to accept payment for. Grace took another bracing sip of hot coffee and turned back to Mason, only to find he’d disappeared.

She meandered a bit through the remaining stalls, debated the necessity of yet another vanilla sandalwood candle or birthstone necklace, and glanced up more than occasionally to see if she could spot where he’d gone or if he was going to return.

Right at the point where she was starting to worry, the weariness of her wakeful hours suddenly threatening to catch up to her in the kind of hysteria that only exhaustion could create, he appeared.

He still carried her two baskets of fruit and a large burlap reusable shopping bag with that telltale baguette and a few other things she couldn’t even remember now, but in his arms was—

In his arms, he was holding—

Okay, she was crying.

Goddamn lack of sleep, she was actually fucking crying in the middle of the Farmer’s Market.

As soon as he got close enough to see her tears, he came to a dead stop and threw his hands up in the air, weighted down as they were.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” His tone was a mix of fond exasperation and abject disbelief at the sight of Grace, coffee in hand, forgotten danish dripping cherry filling onto the ground, blubbering like a baby in the midst of all the produce and plants.

But she couldn’t help it, damn it, because he’d gotten her flowers.

Her grouchy, hundred-year-old, vampire non-boyfriend, who hated Farmer’s Markets and crowds and flowers themselves, had gone off on his own and come back with a bouquet of sunflowers, delphiniums, lilacs, and daisies and Detective Grace Bennett—

Could.

Not.

Handle.

It.

She pressed her lips together tightly, just for another sob to escape.

“Jesus Christ, Gracie.” He gently put down everything he was holding to approach her, likely exhibiting extra caution because of how incredibly unhinged she must have appeared in that moment, before bracing his hands on her shoulders. “What the hell is the matter?”

“Honestly—” Her calm, mostly unwavering tone probably leant her an even more psychotic air, as she could feel the tears continue to streak down her cheeks. “—I’m just really tired, but also I really, really love those flowers.” She hiccuped. “So much.”

His face cleared of its worry and instead he shook his head, affectionate exasperation back in his expression. “You’re nuts, you know that?” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him, partly from weariness and partly because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

He squeezed her tightly for a moment and then, bending over, he picked up her bags and the flowers as she scrubbed her face with her hands. He made to hand her the bouquet wrapped in plastic and newspaper, but when she reached for it, he suddenly pulled it back with a tsk-ing noise.

“No more crying, got it?” He pointed the flowers at her along with his warning.

She laughed, even as she felt the telltale tingle start in her nose once more.

“Yes, no more crying. I promise,” she added, making an X over her chest with her pointer finger. “Gimme.”

He passed her the bouquet, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her bury her face in the colourful blooms and take a big inhale.

“Magical,” she sighed happily, before looking up him. She could feel her eyes fill again and his own eyes narrowed, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Thank you.”

His expression softened and he gave her a nod. “Let’s go. Get you to bed.”

She made a teasing noise, a heckling gesture that acknowledged his innuendo, but he just snorted and shook his head.

“You, sweetheart, are sleeping for the next twelve hours. I don’t care how much you beg.”

“But you love it when I beg,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder, then giggled as he looked at her in surprise.

“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously and she couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles again.

“Just delirious, I think,” she said, wiping more tears - these ones from mirth, rather than an overwhelming feeling of adoration over a thoughtful gesture from a sort-of boyfriend - from her eyes. “But yeah. We should go.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, transferring her Farmer’s Market treasures to his other hand and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders so he could guide her out of the town square.

She looked up at him, this big, grouchy vampire man, so reticent to talk about his feelings and yet so quick to show her how much he cared in a million little ways: his nose subtly wrinkling from the smell of the flowers that he’d gotten for her, his tight hold on her purchases, his arm protectively around her shoulders, shielding her from the growing crowd and guiding her back to her car.

The way he kept looking down at her, eyes scanning her face for further outbursts.

The fact that he’d brought her here in the first place, simply because he knew it was something she liked.

Was she going to be okay?

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing at his groan upon seeing tears well up in her eyes again. She shook her head to try and get her emotions in check, before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He shot her a disgruntled look that just made her laugh even harder.

A summer morning. The sights and sounds of the Wayhaven Farmer’s Market. Mason’s arm around her. All the tiredness, the endless work, the stress - it all just disappeared in that moment and Grace could only think of one word to describe how she felt.

“I’m perfect.”

- ☀️🍓💐 -

#wayhavensummer #the wayhaven chronicles #mason x detective #twc mason #twc fic #farmer's market #wayhaven summer: day 6 #day 6: farmer's market #a thing!!!#i have written!#let us rejoice!#mason x grace

79 notes · View notes

sanders-sides-fic · 3 years

Text

A hole of your shape in my heart

So… My brain went to war with me today. So I wrote some Anxceit-centred angst to cope. Consider yourself warned, this will hurt. I do hope you'll enjoy it regardless, though.

Trigger warnings: implied depression, mentions of panic attacks, self harm, fainting, memory loss

If I forgot a trigger or there is something you would like to be added to that list, please go ahead and tell me. You can do so anonymously as well.

It wasn't that bad at the beginning. A bit of a cold shiver, running down his spine. Ice that seemed to settle in his lounges. A dull ache. Nothing serious, really. He knew that it wasn't good to ignore it, he knew that from the start. And yet he couldn't help it.

They were happy. That was all that mattered to him then. Remus and Janus were happy. That was more important than a bit uncomfortableness. He was used to having panic attacks, mental breakdowns and the sudden urge to cry anyways. This didn't make such a big difference.

Except that it did.

You see, Remus was born without a soulmate. He just didn't have one. Janus, on the other hand, had an accident when he was younger. There was a nasty scar on the left side of his face, which he had covered up with a tattoo of a snake later. Ever since that accident, he'd been soul-blind. Colourblind for soulmates. He did have a soulmate, he just couldn't feel the bond anymore. Oh, it was still there, alright. He could feel that much. But he just couldn't tell anything beyond that. So he'd given up on finding that soulmate.

That's how Remus and Janus had gotten together in the first place. And that was wonderful. It was great. They made such a nice pair. They were happy and in love and sweet and… And it had come as a blow to the face to Virgil.

The three of them had been friends for years. When they'd become teens, Virgil had finally realised what the bond had been telling him all the time. The pretty sparkles around Janus, the glitter in the air that portrayed his emotion in colours, the warmth around his heart that reminded him of Janus. Janus could only feel that warmth. He wondered what it felt like to him. What he felt like to him. Because Janus was Virgil's soulmate.

Virgil had been a bit happy and a bit sad about that. Happy because he liked Janus and he knew him and that was fine. Sad because Janus couldn't tell that they were soulmates.

And that was why he kept telling himself that he'd tell Janus. For sure. But somehow he always ducked out the last moment. Something always happened. Just little things, but things that were bad enough to make him retreat into his shell.

He should have known. When Janus said he would give up on searching for a soulmate he couldn't even tell apart from the rest of the world, he should have known. And yet he hadn't expected Janus to start dating people. Janus was his soulmate, his. He didn't even consider the possibility that he might see other people. How very stupid of him.

He had almost told Janus that day. They were eighteen then, and he had bought a yellow nasturtium, Janus's favorite flower. It was inside a black pot that he'd made himself. He'd always liked to do pottery, it calmed him down. This was the best one he made so far, he thought.

He also wrote down what he wanted to say. How much Janus meant to him, how badly he wanted to be with him, that they were soulmates, that he didn't even mind that Janus couldn't tell and that he was sorry he hadn't said anything before. That it was okay if Janus needed time because this was so sudden, but that he hoped he'd give Virgil a chance anyways. Virgil had used his favorite paper. It was a bit fancy, but not over the top. And it smelled like Lavender, which always calmed him down. He'd wasted quite a bit of this paper because he kept starting over, but that was worth it. Janus was worth it.

But Janus had already told him that he wasn't waiting for his soulmate anymore. And when Janus arrived at his apartment that day, it was with his hand in Remus's.

"He asked me out earlier. I can't believe I said yes, the way he did it was terrible, really." But Janus had smiled, and Remus had laughed, and Virgil had been late.

He knew Remus wasn't to blame, and neither was Janus. They were happy right now. Remus hadn't been happy or confident when it came to the topic of love in forever. Janus had suffered because he'd always been so, so scared of his soulmate rejecting him for not being able to tell. And now they were happy and it was without him.

It hurt. A lot. But he didn't want to ruin their happiness. It was only his fault. He was to blame, for hesitating. For not wanting to ruin their friendship. For being selfish.

So he secretly took the letter and hid it in the bottom of his desk drawer. And he wished them the best.

After that, they started to drift away. Remus and Janus had a lot of date nights. And Virgil drifted away from them because he couldn't stand seeing them. It hurt too much, was all. Whenever Janus would smile at him, whenever Janus laughed, whenever Remus sighed and told him about a cute thing Janus had done, whenever they shared a milkshake, whenever they were so there, so with each other.

Whenever Janus insisted Virgil come as well, saying he missed him. Because Virgil knew, he knew that was because Janus could still feel the soulmate bond. But Janus didn't know, and Janus didn't see him that way, and that was just cruel. Why did fate do this to him? Why did it hate him so much?

After a while, when Virgil couldn't take it anymore, he begun to initiate fights. Janus was too much of a liar, he was too anxious to trust him. Remus was creepy and gross, he couldn't understand why he would say something like that. In the end, he became more and more of an asshole to the two of them. Their days were either spent apart or fighting, and Virgil would cry himself to sleep, pain and cold emptiness gnawing away at his soul.

After a while, he had pushed them so far away that he barely saw them at all anymore. And by then he was so used to it that he could just pretend everything was fine during the day. Sure, he couldn't bare to take off his hoody even in scalding hot summer. Sure, his panic attacks got worse and more frequent. Sure, he had started to wear black eyeshadow purely to hide the bags under his eyes. Sure, he woke up to dried tears on his face every single day. But it was fine. He was fine. He could take this, if it meant that the two most important people in his life were happy.

Patton, the soulmate of Remus's brother, had somehow ended up noticing how he was alone all the time now. And he'd adopted him into their friend group.

Roman and Remus were on bad terms with each other, so he barely knew them. It was kind of a fresh start, even if it was a rocky one. Remy and Roman were the least accepting of him. Roman because "A, he is the type of person Remus would hang out with. And, B, he hurt Remus with his sudden bullshit. Believe me, if you knew the things I learned through my brother…" and Remy just because he didn't want to breath the same air as him. Apparently.

Remy didn't hang out with the group if Virgil was with them. They meet up without him, which was a solution everyone was fine with. Besides, Remy had always liked to suddenly disappear and appear according to his mood. At least that was what his soulmate, Logan, said.

Roman, on the other hand, couldn't stay away that much. After all it was Patton who stuck to Virgil like friendly glue made out of puns, and Patton was Roman's soulmate. Both of them were extremely clingy too, apparently. So the two of them exchanged sarcastic comments and rude nicknames, but they didn't outright hate each other. At least Virgil didn't hate Roman.

Logan was nice to talk to. Almost as good at debates as Janus. They didn't have debates about philosophy, though. Those were reserved for Janus, and it felt like betraying him to have such a debate with someone else. They soon got to a point where hanging out was almost enjoyable, where they kind of liked each other.

And then, suddenly, it got a lot worse. A lot worse. So bad, Virgil couldn't get up in the morning. He couldn't eat anything, couldn't stop crying, could barely breath. About four panic attacks and one night of terrible, terrible loneliness later, Roman, Logan and Patton showed up at his door.

He couldn't help himself. He was so lonely, and he felt so worthless, and Patton was the only one who really wanted him around anyways. So he shrugged their concerns off, taking a sip from his hot coffee - the only acceptable hot beverage in August - and saying: "Well, I just… assumed you didn't want me around. I mean, you don't like me much anyways, so."

Patton had gasped in offence and horror, and Virgil couldn't help but smile at that, though the hole in his chest was still too much to bare and he couldn't look at them. "Yeah, yeah. Except you, Pat."

He'd been wrong. Logan drew up an entire chart to prove how much he contributed to their friend group and how much he provided. Even Roman told him that he was wanted, needed even. It was nice and wholesome, and to his surprise, it made him feel so much better. For just a moment, the hole inside his chest wasn't as icy and cold.

They ended up watching Disney that evening, with a bowl of popcorn and too much comments to actually concentrate on the movie. Later at night, Virgil even confessed that he knew his soulmate. A sore subject he didn't want to touch normally. They asked him why he was single, of course, whether it didn't work out between the two of them, whether that was even possible. And Virgil had shrugged. "I wouldn't know. We never tried, he already has someone." Then he'd chuckled. "I guess that was why I was such an asshole to Re and Jan when they got together, too. Kinda made me feel jealous and… lonely. Don't tell them, though. They don't even know that I already met my soulmate."

Janus would have been proud of him, for how well he had managed to lie to his new friends. Well, not lie directly. But a lie of omission, right?

There were many days like this after that. Days where everything got too much. His new friends understood that he sometimes had bad days. Patton would sent him videos of cute dogs and cats when he let them know he was out of order for that day. Roman would send him memes and Logan would tell him fun facts. It was precious of them, and it made Virgil feel a lot less lonely. The cold was still there, layered around the soulmate bond, the hole was just as gaping as always, but he didn't feel as lonely. And that was good enough.

Other days he could almost pretend that things were fine. He would be around his new friends for as long as his little, introverted heart allowed him. Then he'd listen to music, get stuff done, worry about dead lines and the world instead of Remus, or Janus and his absence in Virgil's life. Sometimes he would read, too. Or do pottery. He didn't do pots anymore though. Or flowers. Just art or tableware.

He didn't even mean to do it the first time. Really, it was an accident. He was just tired, and he did the dishes and then he accidentally cut himself with a knife. But as the blood trickled down his finger, the pain outside kind of overwhelmed the pain inside. So he sat down and watched his finger bleed. Because his hand was wet, it looked like more blood than it actually was.

He thought about that moment often after that, whenever the pain got too much to bare and he could barely hang on. And he did try to fight it, really, he did. But in the end, it was too tempting. Just a few cuts at a time, at first. Somewhere where no one would notice. With the hoody, that wasn't even that hard, actually. He always put on gauze, too, to make sure it didn't get infected.

It got a bit more when he heard from Roman that Janus and Remus had broken up. Apparently Janus felt weird dating Remus. They suspected that it was because Remus wasn't his soulmate - because Janus was Virgil's, his, he was supposed to date him and he wanted to yell it at Janus already, telling him the truth, finally holding him and kissing him and filling this Janus's formed hole in his heart - and Remus fully understood it. Things were a bit awkward between the two of them, but they would keep being friends.

And it got even more worse when Patton was Patton and decided to use this opportunity to get Virgil to make up with the two of them. It was nice of him, but the thing was that Janus was still Virgil's soulmate and didn't know about it.

He and Janus didn't get along too well. He made up with Remus way faster. And Roman didn't like Janus too much either, but once again Patton insisted on adopting the man into their friend group and Roman was too clingy to avoid him. But Janus made it, in the end. Of course Janus made it. He was dazzling and charismatic like that.

Only Virgil couldn't help keeping his defences up. If he let them down, he would tell him the truth. And he couldn't do that, not now, not until he made everything okay again. But he couldn't do that, not without letting his defences down and that just killed him on the inside.

And then he had a bad day. But he wanted to see Janus, so he got up and met up with the others. It helped. Seeing Janus there helped. Hearing him and Patton talking about Kant, watching him smile at Logan and joke around with both Remus and Roman… It helped. And yet it made him so much more aware of what he was missing.

Remus and Roman drove home together. Logan was supposed to meet Remy, so he had excused himself earlier. Patton worked in the café they'd been in, and his shift started after their meeting. So that left Virgil and Janus to walk out together.

Janus smelled like coconut, and his lips were a little chapped. Early winter, he always got chapped lips this time of year. The light made his skin glow, and from this angle with the way the light hit them his left eye looked a lot more golden than brown, unlike the right one.

It hurt. He wanted to grab Janus's hand, he wanted to kiss those lips, he wanted to hug him and never let him go, he wanted to grab him and hold him close until the smell of coconut would transfer to himself as well. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted so bad.

But how was he supposed to do any of it? How was he supposed to tell him?

In the end, he decided to just get it over with. Like a bandaid, just ripping it off. Straight out with it. But just when he was about to, had already taken a breath and opened his mouth…

"I missed you." Janus's melodic voice sounded way too sad. Virgil didn't like it. "Why did you just leave us behind, Virge? I missed you, but… You were acting so strange. You still are. Are you mad because I never texted you?"

He didn't say anything. Couldn't, even though he wanted to.

"If that's it, then I'm sorry. But, Virge, I… I did miss you. And you acting so cold to me really sucks. You're getting along fine with Remus now, so why not me?" He stopped and looked Virgil in the eyes, looking like he was searching for something. What, Virgil didn't know. But he didn't find it, judging by the way he averted his eyes. And that hurt, too. Everything hurt. He just wanted to go now. "I thought we were friends."

"No. I don't think we ever were supposed to be friends." Virgil took a deep breath. Now. He had to tell him now. Bandaid, remember? Just tell him. Virgil opened his mouth, looking at Janus.

Right. Just out with it. "The truth is we're soulmates. I'm sorry I never told you, I was scared. But I love you, Janus." Right. That was all he had to say. Just three sentences. Go on, do it. Please, just get them out already. It's been years now. You've known since you were sixteen, you've known for four years now. He deserves to know, too.

In the end, he shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I…" couldn't say it again. He ignored the tears gathering in his eyes as he turned away from Janus's hurt look. "I'm not feeling that good."

And he ran. He ran away, like he always did. God, he was such a coward. And for what?

At home, he pulled out the letter from last year. Then, he screamed. He couldn't take it anymore, he just screamed and sobbed. And he knew that it wasn't fair, that he'd done this to himself, but he was in so much pain. He just couldn't take it.

But he'd done this to himself. By hesitating, by not giving the letter, by ruining what little relationship he had with his soulmate, by pushing him away, by lying, by not saying what he wanted to. And what for? A fleeting happiness, a failed relationship, a churning ball of fear in his stomach?

Virgil didn't mean for it to get that bad. He meant to stop earlier. He didn't mean for the wounds to be that deep either. But they did, and he didn't, and he only really realised when he got dizzy at standing up. Oh. Oh, that was a lot of blood. And he was still bleeding. Damnit, he needed help. But who would…? Who could…

He grabbed his phone and called the first number in his contacts. It was Remus's voice that picked up after the second ring. "Hey, Rem. It's me." He winced at how weak his voice sounded. "I, uh… I did something stupid. And I know I've been an asshole, but I really, really need your help."

"Janus said you didn't feel so good." Remus sounded genuinely worried. And was that Janus's voice in the background? It was, wasn't it? Tears sprung to his eyes again.

"Yeah. Hey, tell him I'm sorry for me? I wanted to say something, but I didn't again, and… yeah." He couldn't understand the response he got. Blinking, he tried to stay awake. Falling asleep was bad, right? Oh, right. Remus. "Listen, Remus, I… Did something stupid. There's a lot of blood. I think I need to go to the hospital."

"Blood? The hospital? Virgil what did you do?!"

He flinched at the panicked voice. That didn't suit Remus at all. Wait, wasn't that Janus? Had Remus put him on speaker? Well, it didn't matter, really. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He said instead. And then: "I'm scared."

"Okay. Okay, shit. We're almost there. It's alright, we're almost- Take a left, Re, that's faster. We're almost there, okay Virge?"

"Okay." He hesitated, lump in his throat. He thought he could feel tears running down his face, but he was a bit too out of it to be sure. "Thank you."

They kept their word. He could hear Janus's shocked cry and Remus's cussing before the darkness took over.

❖

When he woke up, he was in a white room. Around him, he could see a bunch of people. One with dirty blonde hair and freckles, holding hands with a brunette with glasses. Next to them sat a man with similar glasses and black hair. On the other side was a man much like the first, but with one strand dyed silver and the rest chestnut brown. And another man, who stole the breath right out of his lunges.

Long, golden hair, tied up to a bun, pale skin, warm eyes somewhere between gold and brown, and a snake tattoo on his left cheek. He wore black, with yellow and gold accessories, and he was absolutely stunning. Around him there were weird fireworks, almost like glitter. Did the others see that, too? It was blue, and something inside him told him that that was worry. The same part clenched around his heart, demanding to make the worry go away.

But… "Who are you?"

They all gasped, looking at him. "Virgil?! Oh my god, you're awake." That was the voice of the man with the dyed hair. What was his name? He couldn't quite remember.

"I don't… Who are you? Where am I? Do I know you? I think I know you, but…" He trailed off, regretting having said anything when hurt crossed the stunning man's face. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, you don't… I'm sorry. I should've noticed you were hurting." He sighed, putting on an obviously fake smile as he grabbed his - Virgil's? His name was Virgil, had the man said, right? - hand. "We are your friends, Virgil. That's Logan, Patton, Roman, and Remus. And I am Janus." Janus. Yeah, Virgil though, that fit him. But somehow, Janus looked like he was steeling himself for something. He took a deep breath, smiling more, tears in those wonderful eyes. "I'm you soulmate."

"My soulmate?"

Janus nodded, clutching a purple piece of paper in his hand. "Yes. It's a bit complicated, but, I am. We're soulmates."

Virgil nodded, looking around. There were a lot of people around him. And they all looked so happy to see him awake. His friends and his soulmate, huh? Virgil looked back to Janus. "There's a lot of people here."

"Do you want us to go, kiddo?" That was Patton who'd said that, right? He sounded sad at the idea, and Virgil didn't like it much either. So he shook his head.

"No. I was just thinking, there's a lot of people caring about me."

He got a few sad smiles in return. "Of course, Virge. We all love you very much. And don't you dare to forget that again, you hear?" Janus clenched Virgil's hand in his and put it to his forehead, almost desperately. "Don't you ever dare forget that I love you. You idiot."

General taglist🖤: @gattonero17 @alias290

44 notes · View notes

streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Less of you

Summary: He lost the love of his life 4 years ago in a car accident. If he had stopped her from going to that party with her friend, maybe she would still be with him till this day. He tried hooking up with other girls but none of them could fill his void. All until he met you. A girl who worked at a café to pay for your school and house bills. You were completely the opposite of his late girlfriend but you look exactly like her. Who are you and would he have the courage to get to know you?

Theme: doppelganger au, strangers to lovers

Genre: fluff

Warning: death, accident (please don't drink and drive people!)

WC: 3.9k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

a/n: I write when I’m bored so I may not be good. I hope you like it. I didn’t intend to copy anyone if this storyline has been written before! Also, the words in italics are a flashback! :)

“Hey babe, is it okay if I go to the party with Jiyeon?”

“I don’t know babe, I have a bad feeling about this.” Chan said.

“What? Why?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think you should stay home.”

“But babe, it’s Seori’s birthday party. I’m sure she would want me there.” She tried convincing him.

“Lucy-”

“I’ll just be there for a while, I promise I’ll text you when I’m heading home okay?” She smiled, cupping his cheek softly before disappearing down the hall to go to their shared bedroom.

Hours later, Chan was growing tensed and anxious. There was an unexplainable feeling of discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach which he doesn’t know why. He had already texted his close friends about this. All of them said the same thing. And that was to go fetch Lucy from the party. However, before he could leave the comforts of his shared apartment with his girlfriend, his cell phone began to ring obnoxiously on the kitchen island top.

It was from an unknown number but he decided to pick up the call anyway in hopes that he would hear Lucy’s voice. But what he heard next, wasn’t exactly something he thought he would hear.

“Hello? Is this Mr Bang Chan?” The female voice spoke up on the other line.

“Uhh, yes? Who is this?”

“This is Lee Haneul speaking. I’m calling from Seoul's National Police Station. Can I confirm with you if you are related to Miss Lucy Hale?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“I’m really sorry to inform you that your girlfriend was met in a fatal car crash. We are still investigating the accident to find out what’s the cause. But in the meantime, we will need you to come down to the hospital and identify if the victim is indeed Miss Lucy. Will that be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” Chan said, letting the woman give out the address of the hospital he needed to go before hanging up the call.

Right after he clicked the red button, he instantly collapsed to the ground unable to feel his legs. Chan could feel the tears streaming down his face as he hugged his frame tightly. He couldn’t believe he just received that call. He wanted it to be a prank so badly. He didn’t want all of that to be true.

Nevertheless, he went to the said hospital in search of the love of his life.

The nurse brought him to a female officer who was standing outside a closed hallway with a doctor, where Chan clarified himself to them. The three individuals soon entered the closed doors, letting the doctor lead them straight down to the basement where the mortuary was located.

Once inside, the doctor walked up to one of the silver units. After reading the name on the side of the unit, he opened the unit door only to pull out the metal stretcher that had a covered body in it. Chan had to close his eyes for a second, too afraid to look forward.

He carefully made his way to the doctor. The man proceeds to unzip the top part of the bag. The moment he pulled the bag apart, Chan immediately covered his mouth with one hand desperately as he gripped onto the metal stretcher. He broke down in a matter of seconds, enough proof to the officer that it was indeed who the victim was said to be. She carefully placed a hand on top of Chan’s shoulder while the doctor pressed his lips in a straight line.

“I’m so sorry Lucy… I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to stop you from going… I’m so sorry…” Chan whispered as he stared at the pale, blood covered female body that he used to call his girlfriend.

With that being said, the doctor proceeded to zip the bag while the officer and Chan left the mortuary. She let out a silent sigh, knowing exactly how he felt at the moment.

“Thank you for being strong and seeing her for the last time. I hope you’ll feel better soon. She’s in a better place now.” She gave him words of comfort. Even though his mind wasn’t really there with him at the moment, he appreciated the officer’s kind words.

He went home that night feeling nothing but utter loss and grief. It took him at least 4 hours to accept the fact that she’s gone and that there was no way of seeing her again.

He broke the news to his close friends, all of which shock and sympathy was mixed together.

They went to her funeral but Chan felt empty.

He thought his life was going to be dull and miserable now that he lost her. He wasn’t sure if he could continue to live but his friends made it a point to let him go on his days without feeling at a loss. They were truly the friends anyone could ask for.

4 years went by where Chan still tends to miss her presence. But instead of grieving about it, he finally accepts the fact that she was no longer on this earth. Despite meeting new people, new potential partners in his life, none of them could seem to fill the void that has been eating him alive for the past few years.

There were some who he had genuine interest in. But somehow, that relationship never worked out and he wasn’t one to dwell on things for too long. For he just simply moves on with his life and goes about his daily routine.

It was a bright Saturday morning, Chan had already promised Changbin and Jisung to have a morning workout session together.

“So… Hyung, are you contacting anyone?” Jisung asked as he turned to Chan who was currently lifting weights.

“No. I haven’t contacted anyone in months…” Chan sighed. Dropping the barbell onto the ground.

“Why not?” Changbin asked out of curiosity.

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like anyone’s of my interest.” Chan shrugged his shoulders. The two boys looked at each other only to exchange a knowing look which Chan couldn’t bother to even notice. After they were done with the workout session, the boys left the gym to make their way to a nearby café that they had been going to every time they ended their workout.

They had just entered the café, strong coffee bean aroma filling their nostrils as they walked up to the counter. Only for Chan to halt in his steps when he saw just who was standing behind the counter, taking orders. Both Changbin and Jisung also came to a stop when they saw who Chan was staring at.

“No way…” Chan whispered under his breath. Jisung desperately clinged onto Chan’s arms only to ask in a confused tone.

“Umm… Hyung, is that…?”

“No… It can’t be.” Chan said as they carefully made their way closer to the cashier. The three of them queued up behind the rest of the customers but their eyes couldn’t seem to leave her.

After the customer in front of them walked away, the person standing behind the counter finally locked eyes with all three of them before flashing them a warm smile.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” She said. Chan was too dumbfounded that he couldn’t even speak so Changbin did it first.

“Hi, can I get one Iced Americano.” She keyed in his order before turning back to the remaining two.

“Anything else?” She asked with a smile.

“Umm, can I get one Iced Tropical Passion Tea?” She nodded as she entered his order into the machine. Just then, the minute she looked up, Chan had the most prominent frown on his face and she wondered why.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” However, when she received no particular reply from him, she decided to joke around.

“You know, if your order is written on my face, I would so gladly take them down for you.” With that, Chan finally snapped out of his trance. He shook his head, letting his brown locks shift from side to side.

“Uhh… right. S-Sorry. I’ll just have a regular Iced Strawberry Lemonade Green Tea.” She smiled and proceeded to key in his order, only for Changbin to hold his card out. After he was done paying, she asked him for his name or initial. Telling him that she will call out to him once the drinks are made.

The guys went over to a table right next to the window but Chan’s eyes were glued on her. Watching as she made their drinks while she joked around with her co-worker.

“She might look like her but she’s definitely not like her.”

Changbin commented softly before Jisung hummed in agreement. But Chan still couldn’t seem to let this new information digest into his brain. This girl looked exactly like Lucy except maybe her style and her hair colour but her face was like a copy paste of Lucy.

Lucy was slightly girly and definitely more fashionable in terms of the things she wore. She always loved branded items. She wore mostly dresses or skirts everyday, with designer clothes. She normally wore heels and tends to look richer than she really was. However, Lucy can be very arrogant towards people she doesn’t like or doesn’t know. She would never openly smile to just anyone, nor would she talk to anyone aside from Chan and her close friends.

Unlike Lucy, this girl was nothing like Lucy and Chan could see the vast difference.

Lucy would never work at a café shop because to her, these kinds of jobs are for people who are not able to support themselves financially. This girl not only works as a barista at a café, her sense of fashion is definitely more laid back compared to Lucy.

She wore a plain white shirt with denim skinny jeans and a pair of Nikes with her café apron on. She had her hair in a low messy bun to keep her hair from falling into customer’s drinks while making them. Character wise, she was a lot more friendlier than Lucy. She had quite a bubbly side to her when she greeted new customers at the cashier.

Chan was just too absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear her calling out to Changbin. The latter went back to the collection point, not forgetting to get a glimpse of her name on her nametag.

“Thanks… (Y/N).” Changbin smiled, making her return the favour with a small nod.

Chan knew he shouldn’t do it but he wanted to. He wanted to get to know her a little better. Which is why he decided to come visit her again the following week. She was currently leaning against the counter top, facing the café entrance while her co-worker and close friend, Moonbin was fooling around with her since the café was sort of empty with only 6 tables max being occupied.

She had just punched his abdomen softly when he threw a balled tissue onto the top of her head.

Just then, the sound of doorbell chiming caught their attention. She turned towards the door, only to see Chan enter the café. She immediately smiled after remembering his face from last weekend.

Moonbin went to go hide behind the coffee machine, pretending to be busy.

“Hi, welcome to Daisies Café. What can I get for you today?” She greeted Chan with a smile, making him mimic her expression.

“Umm, hey. I think I’ll just have an Iced Berry Mint Tea.” She keyed in his order before asking him if there was anything else he wanted. When he said no, she nodded and proceeded to charge him for it. After she was done, she took the cup and asked him for his name or initial.

“Chan.” She let his name roll off her tongue quietly before smiling at him. She went over to Moonbin only to see the boy grinning like an idiot.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” She asked her same aged colleague.

“Nothing… He’s kinda your type, no?”

To that, she glanced over to Chan who was seated near the window. He had his laptop on the table with a headphone on his head. A smile graced onto her lips, ignoring Moonbin’s comment and instead, focusing on making Chan’s drink. She knew if she called his name, he wouldn’t be able to hear so she opted to bring his drink over to him instead.

She brought him his drink only for Chan to smile at her, his cute dimples coming to view.

“Oh! Sorry!”

He apologized before taking the glass from her, feeling her fingers brushing lightly over hers. She got visibly flustered as she pulled her hands back a little too quickly. Chan simply let out a soft chuckle when she excused herself to continue working when he gently gripped her wrist to stop her.

“Hey, umm, are you free later?” He asked.

“I… yeah. Why?”

“Do you… maybe wanna grab dinner with me?” She got quiet for a moment, making him feel bad.

“Uhh, you don’t have to agree! It’s okay.” He reassured her. But there was just something about him that made her smile, a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“I finish at 5.” She said with a small smile on her face.

“Oh… uhh, great. I’ll come pick you up then.”

“Okay.” She giggled before leaving his table.

7 months was definitely longer than what he had in mind about being friends with her. All the girls that he has dated or contacted ever since Lucy passed wouldn’t last for more than a month. During the last few months, Chan got to know about her background a little better.

Although he does know that (Y/N) can never be Lucy, he slowly started to like (Y/N) for who she is and not just because she looked like Lucy.

In fact, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he actually likes (Y/N)’s personality slightly better.

It was a sunny Saturday evening and she was having a day off. She was just mopping her living room when her phone began to ring. She placed her mop on the bucket only to go to the desk right beside the hallway where her phone was sitting.

It was Chan’s caller ID.

“Hello?” She said.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just cleaning my apartment.”

“Do you need an extra hand?” She could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line.

“If you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” She laughed.

“Sure. Then afterwards, I was wondering if you’d wanna meet my friends and hang out with them?” Chan asked softly, making her pause.

For the past few months, (Y/N) had gotten closer to Chan when he kept coming back to the café only to become a regular customer there. However, she has never met Chan’s friends properly simply because she was shy and slightly nervous around a huge crowd.

Chan seemed to read her concerns through the silence. Hence, the reason why he was telling her that she didn’t have to agree to it if she didn’t want to. But she didn’t want to keep rejecting his kind offer of meeting his close friends. She wouldn’t want him to feel bad for asking her so she decided to go with it. About an hour later, Chan came to her place as promised before, only to help her with her spring cleaning.

They joked around with each other a few times, earning soft laughs from them both.

They were just moving their legs back and forth on the ground, dancing along to the music she played in the background when she accidentally slipped. She lost her balance and almost fell backwards but he caught her in time.

Chan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back up against him. A soft gasp left her lips as he asked her if she was okay. But all she did was laugh out loud from her clumsiness.

He smiled down at her, letting her press her forehead against his shoulder.

After her laughter had died down, she pulled away from him when she felt his arms still securely wrapped around her body. She glanced up, tilting her head to meet his. What she wasn’t ready for was the close proximity of their faces. She could feel his warm breath hit her lips.

Chan’s eyes naturally fell down to her lips, letting it linger there for a second too long. Before anyone could do anything, Chan’s phone rang in his back pocket. He pulled away not forgetting to apologize to her.

“Hey. Yeah. I’m at (Y/N)’s house. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Bye Minie.”

Chan hung up the call only for (Y/N) to ask who it was. He said it was Seungmin asking if he was coming to Hyunjin’s apartment later to hangout. She gave him a small smile. About 2 hours later, they were both making their way to Hyunjin’s apartment in Chan’s jeep. She changed into a slightly more casual outfit which was just a fitted shirt, a large flannel, denim skinny jeans and a pair of her favourite sneakers.

When they arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment, Chan walked with her beside him the whole time. They were talking about school projects when he stopped in front of the wooden door.

He gave it a few knocks only to turn to her with a slight frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked again to make sure she was really okay. But when he received a nod and a smile, Chan’s shoulders relaxed for a bit before the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde boy whom she had never met before.

“Hey hyung!” Hyunjin’s eyes then met hers. She noticed the way his mouth hung open slightly as he took in her features.

“Woah.” He whispered under his breath before he quickly shook his head and welcomed them in. She saw the amount of shoes by the doorstep, making her feel slightly anxious and Chan seemed to notice this. Hyunjin had already re-joined his other friends in the living room when she felt Chan’s hand on her back.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? Oh… Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry… I just… I tend to get anxious when there’s too many guys around me. I’m not used to it.” She said in a hushed whisper.

“We can go home if you want?”

“No! No, please. I’d love to meet your friends, I just need… a little time to get used to this.”

With that, Chan smiled as he cupped her face with one hand only to whisper a soft ‘okay’ before leading her into the living room. That’s when she finally met his friends in person properly. All 7 pairs of eyes were now staring at her with bright expressions but she seemed to feel small under their gazes.

Chan giggled when he felt her gently grip his forearm with both hands, making him speak up to his friends.

“Guys. This is (Y/N). (Y/N), these are my friends.” Chan introduced, only for her to smile to them shyly, partially hiding behind Chan’s larger frame. Some of them couldn’t help but chuckle. They found her quite adorable to say the least.

It took her about an hour or two to warm up to them but eventually, she did. This only made Chan even more proud of her. They were all gathered in Hyunjin’s living room, currently watching a Marvel movie. She was seated on the couch in between Chan and Jeongin, with Changbin right beside her feet on the floor.

They were watching the movie, Jisung and Felix occasionally making comments during the show. Minho was starting to drift off to Lalaland at the side. Hyunjin, Jeongin and Changbin were playing a game on their phones and Seungmin was busy reading an online book.

(Y/N) and Chan were watching the movie in silence but he did notice her getting closer to his side every time she shifts or adjusts herself on the couch. Not that he was complaining.

Just then, Jeongin suddenly flinched harshly beside her.

This was enough to make her jump. However, this caused her to accidentally lean against Chan who had his arm around her waist.

She blushed at this sudden contact. Jeongin apologized to her for scaring her but she simply laughed it off and told him it was fine. But the minute she turned back to Chan, she could feel her breath hitch in her throat with how close his face was to her.

Unfortunately, he was close enough to hear it but he didn’t mock her for it. In fact, he actually giggled thinking it was cute.

“You okay, love?” His soft voice sultry to her ears.

She hummed in response, only to look forward to the tv screen. Chan chuckled beside her but she ignored it, knowing he probably saw the pink tint on her cheeks. A few hours later, they finally called it a night where Chan sent her back home.

Once they were outside her apartment door, she turned to him to speak up.

“Thanks Chan, for bringing me to meet your friends. They’re really genuine people.”

“No worries. I knew you’d love them.” He chuckled. Suddenly, the air became hot as she struggled to find the right words.

“Chan…”

“Yeah?”

The room fell silent for a moment as they both just stared at each other. Trying to decipher what the other would do next. But she was one step faster than him when the next thing she did was literally what he planned on doing. In one swift movement, she leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his soft full lips. Chan stood there completely bewildered, unable to take in the fact that that really just happened.

She wasn’t sure how long he would stay like that so she took this chance to hide from him. Wanting to avoid any awkward situations if he doesn’t feel the same way for her. Right when she was about to say goodbye to him and enter her apartment, Chan quickly caught her wrist. She turned around to him with a slightly baffled look. But Chan was cheeky. He used his other hand to pull her closer by her waist only to press his lips on hers again.

This time, letting his lips stay there slightly longer than before.

She melted into the kiss as soon as he kissed her, making him smile against her lips. She slid her hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his soft brown locks.

Chan guides her gently back until she is pressed against the door, hugging her waist securely in his arms. She pulled away for air, feeling him press his forehead against hers softly. A few seconds later, Chan whispered softly just loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m really happy to have met you.”

She could feel the butterflies erupting in her stomach at his words. She smiled as he continued.

“I thought my life was over after losing who I thought would be with me forever. But I was wrong. And I realised it when I first saw you at the café that day. Thank you for being there (Y/N). I honestly don't know how my life would have turned out if I didn’t meet you that day.”

With that being said, she smiled. Cupping his face with both hands gently only to speak up.

“I’m glad I could be the source of happiness for you, Chan.”

Chan kissed her again sweetly before pulling back to say the 3 words he had been wanting to say to her. Only for her to return the favour.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too Chan.”

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagines #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan #bang chan fluff #skz x reader #skz bang chan

124 notes · View notes

iliumheightnights · 3 years

Text

Tony Stark Fluff ABC’s (Male Reader)

Tony Stark x Male Reader ...

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) - Tony has TWO things he likes. Your looks and your brains. He loves a man that is smart while also being eye candy. Which is exactly what he thinks of you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) - Tony doesn’t want a family. At least that’s what he says before he gets his husband, Peter, Harley, etc. Now no one can touch his family otherwise someone is going to get hurt.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) - Tony cuddles like a koala. He snuggles his entire body into you, his face pushed into your chest. “Mmm, warm and comfy.”

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) - Go big or go home. Tony is going to spoil you with so many big and fancy dates. Only the best for you! However sometimes he does like to give you the nice simple dates with food he made terribly with candles.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)) - “You are my entire universe. I don’t know how I could do anything without you.”

“Because you’re you Tony. You can do so much.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) - Tony knew he was in love the moment he walked off the plane after his whole ordeal and saw you waiting for him, face full of worry. He thought of you lots during his time in the cave but it wasn’t until right there he realized it. He loved you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) - Tony surprisingly is very gentle. While people see him on tv and newspapers, they may think he’s rather cold and distant. Or they see him as just a playboy, but with you....he’s a whole other person. He’s so soft and makes sure you’re always alright, which is ironic coming from him.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) - I see Tony as liking holding hands, but I can see him holding his pinky with yours. It might have started out as a joke but then he realized he loved it a lot so it stuck around that made him comfortable.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) - He saw you at the party of course. You had attended with some of your friends. He thought you were one of the most gorgeous men he had even laid his eyes on. He of course was trying to get you in bed for a one night stand but after you turned him down, he couldn’t help but wonder…why did it hurt that you turned him down? He decided he was going to not keep trying to get you in bed to find out...he was going to take you on a date.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) - Oh you just KNOW Tony is a jealous man. It’s not that he thinks you’re his, but when it comes to other men flirting with you...that’s when you’re his. Especially when he sees Austin Hammer starting to flirt with you, Tony immediately slides in and wraps his arms around you before kissing your cheek. “Ah hammer I see you’ve met my boyfriend. Where’s yours at? Still ignoring your calls I’m guessing?” Tony said with a smile.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) - Tony can go back and forth. He’s either kissing with fiery passion like how he would during his parties or with so much love and tender like if he let go he’d lose you forever. It was for sure Tony who initiated the first kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) - Not Tony. Tony was not a person that could deal with personal feelings. Sure maybe he KNOWS he loves you but for some reason he just couldn’t get himself to actually yell you. That meant it was up to you to say it for and when you did Tony was quick to say it back, almost like he needed confirmation that you loved him too.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) - Tony’s favorite memory would probably be his first date with you. The way you smiled at the food that was delivered to you. The way you laughed at some of his jokes he considered stupid. How at the end of the night when he asked you for another date and you said yes with your signature smile. THAT was his favorite memory that he keeps with him.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) - Yes. Tony thinks money is no object when it comes to you. Remember that giant bunny? Yeah imagine gifts like that and even fancier gifts. Sometimes you have to remind him that you don’t need all of the gifts...then he buys you double that.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) - Tony thinks of you when he sees the color Navy Blue. It was the color of the lighting in the room where he first saw you, and it reminds him of that night every time.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) - He calls you: Dearest, Lover, Future Mr.Stark, Mr.Stark, light of my life, etc. He keeps coming up with them too.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) - Tony? Being Quaint? It’s hard to imagine but it does happen! Tony rather loves when you read to him when he’s laying down using your lap as a pillow.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) - Like you had to ask. He’s in his lab working on things, however that doesn’t mean you’re alone. No, you’re also there with him helping him out or just keeping him company. He makes sure you know he’s not trying to ignore you.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) - He has to get his creativity out. He’ll be in the lab making something or he will draw blueprints. But that’s just the mechanic side, the non mechanic side also loves to just hold you. Sometimes taking a nap with you is enough to make him better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) - NOT avengers talk. No talk of iron man or avengers, he doesn’t want that in his home. He’ll ask about how you’re doing or will tell you about how Pepper is taking good care of the company, but he will do everything in his power NOT to talk about work at home.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) - Music. He blasts his music so loud in his lab. It’s one of his ways to relax because he just loses himself in it. He absolutely loves when you start getting into the same music with him and especially loves it when you surprise it with VIP tickets to one of his favorite bands.

“You know I could have bought these right?”

“Yep, but I wanted to do something special for you finally.”

“I love you so much.”

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) - His intelligence. Tony likes to show off just how smart he is and put people in their place. Even you can’t deny, it’s pretty hot.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) - Tony proposes to you during a vacation to Hawaii. It’s about two years after you started dating and he decides it’s time. He wanted to propose a lot earlier, but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) - Demons by Imagine Dragons. Tony doesn’t know why, but every time he hears that song. He just gets so relaxed.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) - Oh yes he does. “M/n, We’ve been dating for a long time and I couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of my life with. Will you do me the honor of becoming the other Mr.Stark?”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) - Honestly? A rat or a ferret. I can see Tony being a rodent person.

#tony stark #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark fluff abc #fluff #fluff abc #fluff abcs

108 notes · View notes

seaweedbrain404 · 3 years

Text

Wolfstar Au! : We Can’t Let the Kid Down, Now Can We?

read it on ao3

The flight from London to Athens wasn’t worth it and the flight back was even less worth it. Remus cursed himself for being so silly to think that Teddy’s mother would want anything to do with the boy, and even sillier to believe her when she said she would love for them to visit but couldn’t leave Athens because of work related reasons.

Remus should’ve asked her to elaborate these “reasons” but he didn’t and so, he and Teddy got to Athens for the weekend, she spent about an hour with them before leaving to go to a party. They didn’t see her again until three hours before they had to leave for the airport. He regretted this whole thing. Everything that happened to Remus up until that point, he regretted. Well, that was a lie. It wasn’t fair to Teddy. Remus didn’t regret Teddy. Sure, he hadn’t planned on becoming a father at 20 while in college but shit happens and Teddy was a wonderful kid (most of the time).

Understandably, Remus was annoyed and Teddy was upset. Everything was fine though, Remus had given him the window seat while he took the middle and hoped whichever fucker got landed with the aisle wasn’t an asshole because Teddy was at the age where he peed a lot. Like all the time and drank so much juice, which was probably the cause.

Remus had given Teddy a picture book for the trip. He already started making up his own story about what was happening to each character in each picture with alarmingly detailed backstories and of course, telling Remus every single bit of it when a man took the aisle seat.

“.....but Sammy doesn’t like her because she took the last cookie…..” Teddy went on, not noticing that Remus’ attention was elsewhere.

The man who sat down next to him was downright gorgeous. His dark hair was tied back in a loose bun with a pair of sunglasses resting atop his head. He was sporting a nice tan and wore clothes that looked more expensive than anything Remus could ever hope to own in his entire life. His cheekbones were sharp, almost royal looking. It made Remus feel slightly self conscious about his own sunburnt nose, freckled skin, limbs that didn’t quite fit and t-shirt that was so old and probably dirty because Teddy always had to wipe his hands on him.

That’s when it all went downhill. Teddy didn’t appreciate the takeoff the first time around and he sure as hell didn’t appreciate it now. The 4-year-old started crying as soon as the plane began moving.

Everyone seemed to look for the source of the noise and when their eyes landed on Remus and his son, they sighed or rolled their eyes or looked pitifully at the pair. With sudden horror, as he put his arm around Teddy to try to comfort him until they were safely allowed to undo their seatbelts so he could put him on his lap, Remus realised he was the annoyed guy with the wailing kid on the plane. The enchanting mam next to him, was unlucky enough to be seated next to that guy.

He felt a deep rise of panic and shame in his belly. “Shhh… Teds, it’s okay, we’ll be flying properly soon” he tried to push his own feelings aside in order to comfort Teddy.

It wasn’t working. Teddy kept crying and the handsome stranger had plugged earphones in his ears. Good, Remus thought, at least now it’s one less person to see me fail at being a father.

“Too loud!” Teddy cried, covering his ears with his hands then taking Remus’ hands and covering his ears with those.

He continued crying and this would continue to stress Remus out until they were high enough and stable enough that the seatbelt light flashed off. When they eventually did, and Remus was sure there would be no turbulence, he undid Teddy’s belt and brought him up onto his lap.

It was almost comically funny how Teddy stopped crying immediately. The moment he made contact with Remus, head tucked into his dad’s chest, he was reduced to sniffles.

“Why don’t you go night-night for a mo’ yeah?” Remus asked softly, as he rubbed circles on Teddy’s back.

The 4-year-old sniffled and looked up at Remus with great big watery eyes. “Daddy? Can we go to nana and granda’s when we go home?”

“Of course we can” Remus whispered into his son’s hair.

“That lady- you said was mummy, I don’t think she wants to be my mummy”

Remus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying too. Teddy was only 4 but ever so perceptive and Remus regretted more than ever trusting Teddy’s mother.

“But it’s ‘kay, I gots you daddy” Teddy carried on, wiping his nose on Remus’ tshirt and giggling to himself. “You have my buggers on you now”

“Go to sleep now Teds, yeah?”

Teddy nodded, pushing his head further into Remus’ chest. His small hands were clinging tightly onto his father, as if he was afraid to let go. Remus was also holding onto Teddy for dear life. He was, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to Remus.

Clearly just as exhausted as Teddy, Remus closed his eyes for about five seconds before he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He jolted awake, feeling the heavy lump on his lap move slightly before he registered his surroundings.

It was the man from earlier. He had been the one to wake up Remus and by the looks of it, Teddy had been awake from quite some time. It took Remus a moment to realised the man had said something, his brain still swirling with sleep.

“Sorry- what?” He managed dumbly.

The man just smiled. “I said, your kid needs the bathroom” he pointed to Teddy, who looked decidedly more cheerful now that he had slept a bit.

“Oh- right, thanks- thank you” Remus’ eyes went from Teddy back to man. He smiled sheepishly as the other got up to leave Remus and Teddy out.

After returning from the bathroom trip, Teddy still didn’t want to be seated alone and remained firmly attached to Remus. Currently, he was sitting on his lap with a colouring book and a six-pack of crayons to keep him entertained.

“I’m sorry if he gave you any trouble” Remus said suddenly, after coming to the realization that Teddy had probably woken up and started bothering the other man.

He just shook his head, letting out a chuckle. “No, don’t worry about it, I’ve got a niece and a godson so I’m pretty used to kids”

“Still, he can be a bit much, he likes dinosaurs so I hope he didn’t talk your ear off”

“What? No, he really is a brilliant kid” He smiled warmly, then looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “I’m Sirius, by the way”

“Remus”

“I know, kid kinda sold ya out”

Of course. Trust Teddy to sell you out to people who you think look ridiculously handsome and that you definitely wouldn’t mind snogging.

“Oh god” Remus dragged his hand over his face, I’m scared to ask what else he said”

“Nothing bad, I promise but…” Sirius pursed his lips then spoke in a lower voice, “I hope you don’t mind me asking- I mean it’s just cause of what he said but why were you in Greece?”

Remus’ shoulders tensed, readying himself for a fight. He had to remind himself he wasn’t 17 anymore, he wasn’t just a queer schoolboy from a small town in Wales with nothing to lose. He was a dad now.

“We went to visit Teddy’s mum” came his soft reply and he continued despite himself, “it wasn’t a good idea though”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it… it’s complicated”

“Oh” Sirius looked a little crestfallen, he shook his head and his smile reappeared. “Are you Wesh?”

Taken aback the the question, Remus blinked at Sirius and nodded. He almost got whiplash from how fast Sirius changed the topic.

“Mm, figured”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your accent” Sirius said, as if that explained everything but upon seeing the look on Remus’ face, he elaborated. “My parents had a sort of holiday home there, they’re filthy rich- my parents, too bad they disowned me for liking men”

Maybe it was the way Sirius said it, with such lightness that made Remus’ head spin. Or maybe it was that he would’ve never been able to joke around about his own troubles or even so casually say it in conversation. He kind of admired Sirius for it, it must take a lot of bravely to be this open about something like that in front of a random guy you’ve met on the plane.

“Oh- I’m sorry about that, that your parents did that” Remus managed once he recovered from his initial shock. “It’s an awful thing to do”

Sirius just shrugged, flashing another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes like the previous ones. “Eh, it’s all good, all in the past y’know”

Remus opened his mouth but before he could speak, Teddy piped up. “Daddy, I like Sirius, I think you and him should hold hands and kiss”

Obviously Teddy is going to come out with something as embarrassing as that. Remus felt his entire face flush red as he tried to scramble for some way to apologize when Sirius held up his hand to stop him.

“No, I should probably take your daddy out on a date before we do that Teddy” Sirius said in a tone so serious, one might’ve thought he wasn’t joking. “What do you say bud? Am I allowed?”

Teddy nodded his head vigorously. “Yes! but we have to go to nana and granda’s first, then you can take him on a date”

Sirius aimed yet another smile at Remus, “What do you say? We can’t let the kid down now, can we?”

“Yeah, ‘suppose we can’t” He replied breathlessly.

A lot of things went through Remus’ head at that moment and for the rest of the flight. He mulled over whether he had made the right decision or not but when he saw Teddy chatting away happily to Sirius, he figured it was worth a shot.

#marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #teddy lupin #the marauders #modern mauraders #marauders au #marauders fandom #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff

74 notes · View notes

papergirllife · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem , @caratzennie , @johnnysuhnflower , @euphoricchannie , @yeollieseo , @jjhmk , @sherzess , @wonderfulkoreanpop

(lmk if you wanna be on the list)

You’ve been seeing Mr Suh, correction, Johnny, his first name, as per requested by Johnny himself.

“Mr Suh makes me feel older than I already am, you make me feel like a teenager all over again, so you have to call me Johnny. Let me relive my days when I was still a college kid.”

You didn’t mind, things aren’t as awkward between the two of you anymore, Johnny’s been spending time with you, although the two of you never established any sort of labelling towards what this relationship is. You and Johnny only hung out and had meals together, trying out different cuisines, watching movies, even going as far as skipping a day at work to go to the amusement park. He even bought you to an arcade when you told him you haven’t had the chance to venture to one since you were in grade school.

“Why haven’t you ever been to one for so long?” Johnny asked when he finished a round of pinball.

“They said it was a waste of time and that I should spend more time studying,” you said, wondering why Johnny would ask that, isn’t it the same for all the kids?

Whenever you mention your confining life to Johnny, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes, jaw locked in silent rebuke, he doesn’t say anything, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He would be quite for almost half an hour before he goes back to regular cheerful Johnny, telling you lame jokes that you would surprisingly find funny.

You didn’t have a phone, since your parents forbid you to have one, the only means of communicating is through your email account on your laptop, and even that you must always bear in mind to delete his mails right after, and take further precaution, you didn’t allow him to initiate the sending.

Johnny wanted to buy you one, but you rejected him promptly, you didn’t want him to spend so much money on you, he already spends lots on taking you out to eat. You gave him the excuse that it was too dangerous, and the consequences of getting caught are severe.

You often questioned your relationship with Johnny, you aren’t dumb, you’ve googled him and saw gossip news portals uploading photos of him and some model going out and about in hotels, but those headlines were months ago, the latest news about him was from his interview with Times magazine.

You never had the guts to ask him, you don’t know what you mean to him. What right do you have to question his whereabouts and what he does? He’ll probably be bored of you after he’s known all of you.

You know you shouldn’t think of Johnny that way, it is mean to assume what he’s thinking, especially how well he’s treating you, but seeing those headlines gives you a sense of insecurity, you keep telling yourself that this won’t last, but the thought of not seeing him again made your hair stand. He’s making you happy, a distraction towards the negativity you face in that house you live in, but for how long?

House. You never called it a home, unless you were telling your boss you were leaving, to prevent anyone from questioning your odd way of describing it. It was never a home to you. To you, a home is a place where you feel happy, safe, and most importantly, loved. The closest you’ve ever felt to having these feelings were your grandma and Joh... No, you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you. What were you thinking?

You pushed those thoughts away as you opened your laptop to double check the files that you’ve typed out for your parent’s next important meeting that was supposed to be taking place first thing tomorrow. But when you went through your folders, the files were nowhere to be seen. It’s then you realised that the notification that keeps urging you to update the laptop was gone, it wasn’t the first time you updated the laptop and found out some files were missing, so you would never update the laptop at such a crucial time.

You took the laptop out to your father who was watching some news on his phone in the dining area to ask him if he had updated the software without alerting you.

“Yes, I did. What about it?” he asked, annoyance on his face due to the sudden disturbance.

“The files are missing because of the update,” you informed him.

“What files?”

“The files for tomorrow’s meeting, they’re missing,” you told him as you mentally prepared yourself for what’s to come.

“What do you mean missing?! I bet it was because you saved it wrongly again! Your retarded brain never works does it?! Do you know how important those files are?! You always work on them late at night blurry eyed, of course you didn’t save them properly! You could’ve worked on them in the morning before work. but no... You want to ‘exercise’! What a waste of time!” You’re not pretty anyways, what are you doing them for huh?!” Your father shouted, his eyes blazing in rage, his fist slamming onto the glass.

While your father was shouting, your mother was checking the laptop as she complains about how clueless you are. It was like your brain couldn’t take the amount of hurtful words piercing into your mind like daggers, you let out a high pitched scream as tears threatened to fall, your hands covering your ears as your eyes were a blur.

When you could see properly again, you could make up words which sounded like ‘how dare you’ from your father, next thing you registered were the fury in his eyes as he advances on you, hand above his head, ready to hit you. You didn’t know what came over you, but the first thing you did was kicking him away. That’s when a full on fight broke out.

You were filled with rage, your mind wasn’t registering what you were doing. You went into a flight or fight stance and started thrashing and kicking as his hands were holding painfully tight on your wrists after you tried punching him.

Your mom urges the both of you not to fight, her voice barely registering in your head as she sits still on the high chair by the kitchen island, not bothered to even try to cease the fight.

When you finally pushed him away, you ran into your room and locked it. Your chest was heaving from the panic attack that just started, you tried your best to calm yourself down, reminding yourself to breathe, it was suffocating, controlling your breathing as more tears made its way out of your eyes.

When it all stopped, your body succumbed into mental exhaustion, passing out on your bed as the tears finally ceased.

You only woke up for dinner last night, and proceeded to sleep again. Yesterday’s events made you feel numb, other than the pain from the bruises on your arms.

There was a big ugly one on your left upper arm, its colour an ugly shade of green and purple. A few other less serious ones scattered around your lower arms. In other words, you look like a wreck.

You wore a jacket to run even though you were sweating from your previous cardio work outs, feeling a little better after the endorphins in your body kicked in. When you got back, you quickly showered and ate a toast. When you asked for your mother’s phone to remind your boss you were going to take the day off, she told you that weren’t needed at the meeting anymore and that she finished everything last night.

“Just call to say that you’ll be going to work,” she said, not even looking in your direction when she handed you her phone.

But when you called to inform your boss, he told you that he had another part time coming in, and that it was too short of a notice. You said thank you and hung up, but said that you’ll be at work on time today before handing it back to your mother.

You really needed to escape for the day.

You opened the laptop and sent an email to Johnny.

I’m free today. Wanna go out?

You sat on your bed staring at the ceiling as you were sure it was going to be a bit before he replied, but just as you closed your eyes, you heard a distant chime from your laptop.

I’m rushing some stuff at the office today. I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Can I stay in your office? I really wanna get out of the house.

You sounded like a spoiled kid begging for attention, but you really wanted to see him today.

Sure. But you might get bored :) .

I’m leaving the house now :) .

For a 26 year old businessman, he sure loves to use emoticons.

You got changed into jeans and a jacket, you don’t usually wear one if you were going to a secluded area with Johnny, but you had to hide all the marks from last night. You just noticed that they hurt after you accidentally knocked your wrist against something.

You took the bus to the address Johnny wrote down on your diary, it was after one of your dinners together, and he jokingly said that you could always swing by if you wanted, you didn’t know you were going to actually do that.

The bus station wasn’t too far of a walk from his office, since it was just downtown Seoul where the Korea’s financial hub was located.

As you were nearing the office buildings, you stood out like a sore thumb, given the way you were dressed and your age. The people kept giving you stink eyes and sideway glances.

Suh Capital Partners. That was it.

You walked in the rotating doors, only to be greeted by masses of people walking around with smart pads, files, talking on the phone while the assistants take notes. Johnny didn’t mention his company being this big.

You admired the facade of the lobby, it displayed the latest news on a large monitor while futuristic lights hung from the high ceiling, the walls were a perfect balance of steel and wood with a wall of plants filled the wall behind the reception area.

You realised that the people stopped what they were doing before and started looking at you curiously when one of the nicely dressed women from the reception walked up to you.

“Excuse me, miss. May I ask who are you looking for?” the woman asked, her eyes scanning you from top to toe.

You froze at your spot from how cold she sounded, like she didn’t want you around to ruin the aesthetic of the company. You reminded yourself that you weren’t going to see her anytime soon after this and that if you did make a fool of yourself then so be it.

“I’m looking for Mr Suh,” you told her.

She looked taken aback from your answer, but gave you the ugliest sneer when she recovered.

“Miss, this isn’t a school, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone without an appointment. Mr Suh is the head of this company, not someone you can just meet without an agreement from him. Please leave this instance,” she said, her tone high pitched enough to gather everyone’s attention, you swore you heard someone laughing a few feet away.

“But...

“That’s my guest, Ms Park.”

You whipped your head back to see Johnny standing behind you. But instead of his usual warm honey eyes, his eyes were a cold and staring daggers into the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Suh. I’ll get back to my work now,” the woman bowed apologetically, going as far as doing it numerous times.

“I’m going to need a key card for her, Ms Park. Send it up to me when you’re done,” Johnny said, but his eyes were scanning the crowd, his employees immediately went back to what they were doing, the large lobby void of any sound other than people rushing to the lift lobby to escape the scene.

Johnny placed a hand behind your back and guided you to the lift lobby after most of the people have taken the ride up to their respective floors.

“I’m sorry,” you said after the coast was clear.

Johnny’s intimidating stance broke as confusion takes over his face.

“What are you sorry for?” Johnny asked, he should be the one saying sorry.

“I’m such an embarrassment, coming here in my jeans and jacket with a canvas bag, looking like a kid,” you said, fingers nervously tugging the straps of your old bag.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nothing’s wrong with being young and dressing your age. They’re just grumpy from all the work. Don’t take their words into account, and you look great. Perfection as always,” Johnny said reassuringly, hands placed on your shoulder, the warmth of his palms calming you slightly.

“No....

You buried your face into your hands as he patted your head, you sneakily glanced up to see him smiling at you with a toothy grin. But you quickly regained posture as you saw an elevator door open with many pairs of legs.

Johnny wasn’t going in even though the lift was going up, that’s when people in the lift realised it was him, and quickly came out of the lift, saying sorry and greeting Johnny.

Johnny guided you in after the lift was cleared empty. His staff looking at you curiously, you weren’t used to having so many pairs of eyes on you, their curious eyes burning holes into you.

Johnny could sense your anxiousness from the way you were hiding behind his tall figure as the two of you walked into his office, there weren’t many people at that time, given the fact that only direct reports of his business partners came up to hand in documents.

You only felt yourself loosen up a bit after you took a seat on Johnny’s armchair in his huge office, overlooking Seoul’s skyline and the cars that were buzzing about on the roads. The view made you calm down a bit from the journey coming up here.

You felt the chair dip as Johnny took a seat on its armrest, his hands coming up to give your shoulders a nice massage. Johnny smiled at the way your eyes lit up from his comforting touch as you looked back to smile at him, he felt a warm feeling deep in his belly as he takes in your beautiful features and the warmth of your shoulders on his fingertips. But as he puts more pressure onto your shoulders, you wince slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Did your boss at work make you lift heavy stuff again?” Johnny asked, his hands ceased all movements, fearing that he would hurt you again.

You automatically thought of your fight with your father last night, it might be because of the force exerted from when he had pushed you.

“N-no, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I watched a horror movie and had a nightmare,” you lied, not knowing how he would react if you told him the truth.

“Be careful when watching these movies, Y/N. If you went to work and your boss really made you move heavy things today, then you would’ve strain your muscles,” Johnny said, going back to massaging your shoulders, but this time gently applying pressure on that spot, rubbing it in clockwise circles to ease the pain.

“I’m fine, Johnny. Didn’t you have work to rush? I don’t want to keep you away from important matters. And my shoulders feel much better now,” you said, moving away from his hands even though you could’ve let him do that forever, it felt so comforting, borderline addictive.

“Okay, I’ll tend to your shoulders again later.” Johnny said as he lays his head on top of yours, a gesture that he had came up with whenever he wanted to show affection to you without crossing uncharted territories, your heart sped up whenever he does that.

You were just sitting on the couch reading one of your old books when you looked up and saw Johnny frowning at his laptop, you placed your book down and made your way to Johnny.

“Don’t frown like that, you’ll get frown lines when you’ll get older, it’ll spoil your handsome face,” you joked.

Your hands reach out to smooth the creases on his forehead, a smile coming back to Johnny’s face.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your busy hand into his, lightly tracing the area between your thumb and your index finger.

“What’s bothering you?” you asked, unbeknownst to you, your lips were unconsciously set in a pout.

“There’s some documents that are supposed to be sent to my office in Chicago, but the English that’s written here isn’t up to standards, I’m worried the staff there won’t understand what the document is stating. I don’t mind correcting it, but I have other things to tend to as well,” Johnny explained to you.

“Can I take a look at it? I had Cambridge classes for 8 years. Guess it’s finally coming in handy. I mean only if you think I’m capable, I don’t want you to think I’m boasting or anything, I just really wanna help...

“Y/N, sweet, I trust you. Just let me get you a laptop,” he said before dialling to his secretary.

Once Johnny sent the files to that laptop, you started correcting some grammatical errors and replaced some terms that weren’t as professional, when Johnny was done with his meeting, you were done with the documents as well.

“Here, take a look. There might be mistakes,” you said after sending him the files back.

“You were reading ‘me before you’, I think you’re fine, Y/N,” Johnny deadpanned.

“Just take a look, just in case,” you pleaded, doe eyes capturing his heart. Nodding, Johnny smiles, doing as you said.

Johnny scanned through the documents, his eyes lighting up brighter after each sentence, a proud smile making way on his face. When he was done, he pulled you close by the waist, and gave you a warm hug, his head nuzzling into your sweater.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I thought I needed to work overtime because of this,” he said, his voice was slightly muffled by the cotton.

“You’re welcome. You can always send me these files when I’m not here, I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” you offered.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Wanna grab lunch? I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Johnny asked after pulling away, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, as you hit Johnny’s shoulders lightly for his teasing, a smile creeping up your face.

“No, I’m not...

“Come on, I know this really nice French restaurant around the corner...

“Johnny I have the file you were...

Doyoung stops in his tracks as he sees you and Johnny being so close to each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest,” Doyoung apologises, but his eyes were still wide in disbelief.

“Doyoung. This is Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung is one of my business partners, his dad was my dad’s business partner so now it’s his turn,” Johnny introduces his friend to you, telling you a bit of his background.

You gave Doyoung a tiny bow and soft hello, nerves wrecking up at meeting someone you often see on telly whenever their company has a press conference. You could sense an air of discomfort as Doyoung gives you a questioning look.

“You can just put the files on my desk Doyoung. I’ll take a look at them after my lunch break.”

When the evening rolled in, Johnny had to drive you home before your mom questioned your whereabouts.

“I really enjoyed having you by my side today, Y/N,” Johnny said sincerely after pulling up outside the gated area.

“I should be the one thanking you, I can’t believe those snails cost so much, yet you won’t let me pay you back whenever we have meals together,” you retorted, recalling how your eyes almost flew out of their sockets when you stole a glance at the bill.

“Money is not an issue, Y/N. I told you that many times before,” Johnny reminded you.

“I’ll see you on Saturday?” you asked, changing the subject before he offers to buy you a house or something.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, chuckling at how you diverted his attention.

Johnny unlocked the doors of his car, but right before you pulled onto the handle, Johnny pulled your arm, the place where one of the bigger bruises were located at, making you wince at the unexpected pain.

“Y/N I wanted to ask, wait. Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Did I accidentally hurt you?” Johnny asked his eyes wide in worry.

Before you could protest, Johnny pushed up the sleeves of your sweater, revealing the big ugly bruise on your upper arm, and several others that went downwards until your wrist.

You looked up at Johnny, scanning his face that was frozen in shock, eyes not believing what he’s seeing. His fingers gently tracing every bruise, his other hand rotating your arm gently, to see if there’s more.

“Y/N... Who did this to you?” Johnny questioned, but deep down in his gut, he’s sure it’s who he thinks it is.

“No one, Johnny. I just fell down when I woke up,” you said, lying through your teeth, you didn’t want to, but that was your survival instinct whenever someone asks about your parents.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, it’s them isn’t it? They hit you. Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny demanded, he questions why you don’t trust him, was he not worthy in your eyes?

“It’s nothing, Johnny. Goodnight,” you said in a breath before turning away.

You quickly got out of his car and ran to your lift lobby, Johnny was following behind you. But before he could step into the premise, you shut the glass door which could only be opened with a security card on him, mouthing the words sorry before you made your way into a lift.

Johnny banged at the door, shouting for you to come back, before the security guards asked him to leave. He could feel a prickle in his heart as he sees the bruises in his head, the image fresh. He felt red hot anger boiling in his heart, he was going to get you out of that horrible place, no matter what it takes.

#nct smut #nct fluff #johnny smut #johnny suh #johnny fluff #nct #wayv #nct dream #nct 127

137 notes · View notes