#she was good in the event and I think she should’ve stayed in the event | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinniessance · 6 months

Text

DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.

these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.

“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”

“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”

“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”

“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.

“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.

“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”

your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.

“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”

“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.

“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”

you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.

“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.

what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.

oh, you will be so much fun to break.

gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.

you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.

you’re so fucked.

you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.

“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.

gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.

“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.

“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,

he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.

“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”

“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away

“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”

for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.

you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.

“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.

when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.

gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.

“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.

satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.

he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?

you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.

gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.

you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.

kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.

your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.

air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.

when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.

you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?

conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.

you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.

“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”

before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?

rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.

“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”

not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.

“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.

exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.

yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.

“did i do something wrong?”

you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.

“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”

“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.

“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.

gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.

“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.

“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.

“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”

“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.

“show me how sorry you are.”

before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.

“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.

“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”

“y-yes…”

“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.

“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”

gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.

“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”

immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.

a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.

“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”

“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.

“’m sorry daddy.”

gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.

“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”

he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.

your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.

“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.

gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.

“is my princess close?”

“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”

“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.

“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”

gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.

“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.

“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.

“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”

with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.

“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.

“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”

“yes, sorry daddy.”

“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.

the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.

your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.

“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”

“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”

“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”

you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.

“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.

gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.

“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”

you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.

“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”

you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.

“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”

you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?

“yes daddy, anything for you.”

2K notes · View notes

yeoandmoon · 3 months

Text

cowboy take me away ( mingi x reader )

as the child of a long forgotten freedom fighter, and a long time informant of kim hongjoong, you've been entangled in the bloody history & politics of strickland for as long as you could remember. when an invitation shows up at your door in the form of a familiar gunman, you find yourself grappling with the idea of gaining freedom & love in your harsh world or sticking in the comfort of your shadows.

smut + angst, ateezverse, outlaw!mingi & librarian!reader, afab reader, right person wrong lifetime, mentions of war & corruption, mingi is covered in blood, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, wc is 4.7k

NOTE: takes place almost directly after the events of the bouncy music video ( a whole comeback and a half late, but i think it's what cowboy mingi would want )! this fic was written across 2 provinces, 1 state, 2 continents and 3 countries its a world traveller <3 title is from cowboy take me away by the chicks. if you like this please consider reblogging or leaving a comment / an ask :)

BANG! BANG! BANG!

You hear the banging before anything else. You’re quick to get up, nearly tossing your book to the floor in your haste.

The clock on the stove reads 21:37, and you know exactly who awaits you on the other side of the front door. The news reports of the bombings of The Prestige Academy had been live for nearly three hours, and it was only a matter of time before they came knocking.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another bang rings out through your apartment, shaking the wooden door and the small ornaments that hung around it - good luck charms, your mother had once told you.

It was silly of you to keep them up. You knew it was silly to still believe the bedtime stories of a broken down revolutionary, and the childhood she wanted so badly for you.

Yet, here they remain - framing your door in an arch of wooden dolls, and nearly forgotten symbols.

Everything you’d witnessed with The Eight; all the history that could’ve been and should have been of your world laid out right in front of you by a scary little man and his little hourglass wasn’t enough for you to pull them down. You told yourself it’d be disrespecting your mother’s memory by doing that.

Hongjoong and his boys made you believe in the stories of your mother, and the world she wanted.

It’s while staring at the smallest doll in the arch that you take another deep breath, and finally steal a glance at the shadows that are casted under the door. You can see the person shuffle in place, almost nervously.

You know who it is, and what they want from you.

You almost want to be upset by the uninvited visitor. You want to throw the door open, and scream at him; you want to tell him how he ruined your life. You want to tell him how you should’ve called the Guardians when you saw them walk into your library that day; how you regret letting them pull you into this world you watched tear your mother apart.

But - you’re not really upset. The thought of them makes your palms sweat, and your cheeks flush and you don’t want them to go. You want him to come inside and hold you; you want him to stay here, and despite your threats, you could never call the Guardians on him… on any of them.

You look back up at the small doll that smiles down at you, and try not to let visions of soft pink hair and gummy smiles invade your mind. You try to forget the feeling of rough hands against your skin, and his lips kissing your tummy. You want to push those to the back of your mind, and simply ignore the cowboy on the other side of your door.

BANG!

A final resounding bang rings out, and you finally grip the door handle before ripping the door open.

As if summoned by your inner complaining & contemplation, there is a man in a cowboy hat on the other side of your door. His hat sits low over his face, and a rifle hangs at his side; you could just see the blood splattered on his leathers and his cheek.

You try not to stare at the way the tan vest hugs his toned torso; or how the deep red blood speckles his neck and chest. Your knuckles turn white as they tighten on the doorframe.

Your lips kiss along his neck, while your hands are tight against his hips. You pull him closer to you and revel in the soft whimpers that fall from his swollen lips. His hands are warm, but you know he runs hot and you soak in the warmth.

“Y/N.” His deep voice breaks through the silence, as if slashing a knife through your daydream.

You give him a brief nod, “Mingi.”

There’s a smile growing on the outlaw’s face, “Were you hoping I would leave if you ignored me enough?” Mingi asks, gently pushing you to the side as he steps into your apartment.

You sigh before closing the door behind him, making sure the locks and deadbolts are tight before turning to him. You don’t answer, but your mind continues to linger on his comment and just how wrong it truly is.

The last thing you want is for him to leave - for him to leave you.

“Hongjoong called you.”

You nod, and your eyes flicker to the drawer where your small burner phone sits in the kitchen. There’s a coded voicemail from Kim Hongjoong in the inbox, and you had listened to it enough times that you could probably recite it for Mingi.

Hongjoong and his boys wanted you to join the revolution - officially. You had been content hiding in the background of it; feeding information to Hongjoong in cryptic messages & sneaky meetings, and then letting them take the credit, but Hongjoong wanted you at the forefront now.

There was a reason, of course. You knew why he wanted you, of all people.

“I’m not my mother, Mingi.” Your voice breaks as you finally look up at the man in front of you.

Mingi looks down at you. His short pink hair is messy under the cowboy hat, and his brows are furrowed in frustration. As you look back at him, all you can think of is the wanted posters plastered through the city center, and how you wish the artists could see the vision you see.

His voice is soft as he finally speaks, “You’ve gotten comfortable, Y/N.” Mingi moves the rifle from his shoulder and onto your kitchen counter, careful to place the barrel and silencer facing the wall.

“You’re comfortable surrounded by your books, and letting Hongjoong take all the credit for your work. You should’ve been there tonight.”

You lean back against the door, right under the arch of dolls as you contemplate Mingi’s words. He’s mirroring you - standing under the arch of your kitchen door, but your apartment is so small that you can just feel the warmth of his body against yours. A part of your mind thinks you’re imagining it, but you know if you were to reach your arm out, you could take the outlaw’s rough hand into your own.

You almost do, too. You begin to reach your hand out when Mingi moves to speak again, “She’d want you to be there, you know.”

His words slam into you like a ton of bricks. Your hand falls back against your side while Mingi’s statement immediately fills your eyes with tears, and the vision of the bloodied man in front of you begins to blur. You look down to hide your tears from him, but you still find yourself nodding in agreement. He’s right. He’s right, and it makes you so angry just how right he is.

“But I don’t want to be there,” You finally say, “It’s not the place for me. I’m not like her. I’m not like Joong. I want what they wanted… what they want, but I’m better off behind you.”

Mingi shuffles closer to you, and his hand moves to hold your wrist. You blink, and tears begin to fall down your cheeks when you feel his nimble fingers against your pulse point. His body gently pushes you back against the front door.

“Would it change anything if I told you: I want you to be there? I want you to be there, right next to us? Next to me?”

When you look up at him, you see his dark brown eyes have softened. His face is still shadowed by the cowboy hat, and you reach your free hand up to gently push the hat off, letting it hit the floor in a soft thud. The warm light of your apartment immediately illuminates Mingi’s harsh features, revealing a sad smile as he meets your teary eyes.

You push his hair out of his face before cupping his cheek, and you revel in the way he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“I’ve watched this world tear people apart, Min. I don’t want to watch it break you too.” You tell him, your thumb gently brushing against his cheek, “I don’t want it to break me.”

You felt selfish as the words left your lips. Maybe you were being selfish, but you cared about him too much. You care about him enough that it’s dangerous - for both of you. You both knew your time together was limited and scarce, and soon all the work you’ve both done would finally culminate with Hongjoong’s plans.

Yet, here you stand - wrapped in a bloodied cowboy’s arms, half naked and crying, unsure if this will be the last time you see each other.

“I’m not going to break, Y/N.” His hand maneuvers from your wrist, and onto your bare thigh, just brushing under the hem of the night shirt you have on, “You wouldn’t, either. We wouldn’t let you.”

You stay silent, but you wrap your arms around Mingi’s neck and pull him into a tight hug. Mingi immediately reacts, with his own arms moving to wrap around you and his head falling into your neck. You can feel his lips ghost against your neck while one of your hands moves through his hair, almost holding him in place against you.

There’s things you could say; things you want to say to him (don’t die. come back. i love you.), but you don’t say any of that. Those are foolish thoughts for your situation, and dreams neither of you can afford right now.

Instead, you gently push him away so you can see him, both your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “Does Joong know you’re here?”

Mingi shakes his head, and you notice his own tears beginning to fall down his face. You keep your eyes on him as you nod, while one of your thumbs gently runs over his bottom lip.

“We don’t have much time then?” Your voice is hardly a whisper.

Mingi kisses your thumb before taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers and kissing your palm, “We’re leaving at midnight.” He finally says.

It takes a moment of contemplation before you surge forward in Mingi’s hold, leaning up to capture his lips in a harsh kiss. His arm around your waist tightens its grip before he kisses back, and you feel his other hand drop your own before beginning to move into your hair.

You pull away after a moment, leaning back against the door as you settle in Mingi’s arms. You look up at him - taking in the way his cheeks have blushed, and his pupils are nearly blown out. Your eyes glance over the now-smudged blood on his cheek and neck, and you have to think he’s doing it on purpose. He’d come to you after doing Hongjoong’s dirty work before, bloody & wrecked and he’d always laugh when he saw how wet your panties had become after seeing him like that.

“Take the jacket off, Mingi.” Your voice cuts through the silence you two had created.

There’s a small smile playing at your lips when Mingi jumps before nodding, unhooking his arm from around you to pull the heavy leather coat off. Your eyes follow it as he unceremoniously drops it on your foyer floor.

His hands move to his vest, and your eyes are quick to follow as he begins slowly unbuttoning the leather.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You narrow your eyes at him.

Mingi’s cheeky smile and the way his eyes glance up at you confirms all you need to know. You fake a gasp as one of your hands reaches out to grasp his, and you tug him back closer to you.

“You’re a tease,” you tell him as you kiss him again.

He smiles into the kiss, while one of his hands moves to cradle your head and tilts you to gain easier access to your lips, “Am I?”

You begin to unbutton the remaining buttons on the vest, just as Mingi crowds you back against the door. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the way he deepens the kiss while his thigh moves between your own, pressing up against your soaked core.

You groan at the feeling of his jeans against your clothed pussy, “Am I going to come here?”

Another cheeky smile flashes at you, “I am a tease, aren’t I?” He hums.

Mingi pushes you down against his thigh as he speaks, with his hands holding your hips. The drag of your clit along his thigh rendered you speechless and hot, and you let yourself fall back against the door in your bliss.

You’re standing on your toes as you rock against him when one of his arms hooks around your waist.

“Go on, baby.” He leans down to kiss your temple, “Use me to make yourself feel good.”

His other hand tugs at the hem of your night shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal your body to him. There’s a hunger in his eyes that makes you feel wanted and sticky, and you can’t help it when your hands move to grasp at the vest to steady yourself. Mingi’s free hand moves to your chest, his fingers gently begin thumbing at your nipple until it hardens.

You let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, relishing in the way his touch fuels the warmth that grows within you - it’s a warmth that truly only burns for the Gunman, and part of you worries it might never burn for anyone else.

Your hands move into Mingi’s hair when he leans down to take your nipple in his mouth, and the whimpers that come from the man as you tug brings another wave of arousal that goes straight to your core (and the sticky mess that you’re sure are ruining your panties and Mingi’s jeans). You can feel the bulge in his tight jeans each time you rock your hips; it matches the hunger you saw in his eyes as he kissed up your neck, letting your shirt fall back down as one of his hands moved to cup your pussy.

You reach out to palm the bulge in his jeans, and a sleepy grin graces your lips when Mingi lets out a beautiful sound. He groans your name, his free hand gripping your wrist while you push against him.

He pulls your hand away, “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” He tuts.

“You sound pretty.”

Mingi’s thumb pressed into your clit in reply, and the action brought a near scream out of you. Your hips stutter against his hand, and you grip his vest tighter as you begin to lose your balance. Mingi’s hand around your waist moves to pick you up, using the imbalance as an excuse to pull you closer to him.

“Mingi…” Your voice is strained and full of neediness.

He hums into your skin, nipping at your collarbone, “I know, Y/N.”

His thumb presses circles into your clit, and your thighs shake as you wrap your legs around Mingi. Your head falls onto his shoulder as your hips rock into his hand, urging him to move faster and harder.

You kiss him, messy and rough when he brushes his finger over your entrance, pushing you over the edge to your orgasm. You tremble against him, and he kisses away your cries and whimpers, holding you impossibly close in his arms.

Mingi’s thumb slows its movements as you ride out your climax. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you know he’s talking to you, but you can hardly hear him. You can hardly guess what he might even be saying against the quiet of your apartment and the blood rushing in your ears.

“We’re going to bed now, baby.” He whispers to you, kissing your cheek and finally moving away from under the arched doorway.

You laugh into his shoulder, “Are you going to fuck me?”

He doesn’t answer on the short walk to your bedroom, but you don’t need an answer. You know how tonight will go. You always know with Mingi.

Mingi softly drops you onto your bed, untangling your legs from around his waist before quickly beginning to undo his belt. You keep your eyes on him as you pull your soaked panties off, haphazardly kicking them to the floor while you watch Mingi undo his jeans, leaving them open as he turns his attention back to you.

He looks positively wrecked, and all he’s done is made you come. This causes an undeniable high to begin racing through your veins, and the high only grows when you feel Mingi’s fingers dancing along your inner thigh leading right up to your soaked core.

“‘Gonna open you up, baby,” Mingi grunts, while he gently pushes you back against the bed and shoves your legs open so he can comfortably kneel between them, “We gotta make sure I fit, yeah?”

You gasp at the combination of his words and the feeling of his thumb against your clit so soon, but when you glance up, he’s smiling down at you. Your fingers tightened in the sheets and you wanted to curse Mingi. You were so wet from your previous orgasm that you knew you could probably take him with minimal prep - it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before.

But no; Mingi wanted to watch you writhe on the sheets as you took his fingers, nice and slow.

He gripped your thigh as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, and he chuckled when you threw your head back, a moan of his name escaping your lips.

“Min, please,” You bucked your hips up to meet the thrust of his fingers, “Just fuck me!”

Mingi kisses your knee in response, “We got some time,” He hums, but you could hear his voice waver as he adds another finger, and watches you grind yourself against them.

The short walk to your bedroom had hardly been enough time to recover from the orgasm you’d had against the door, and all you could do was soak up the increasing pleasure as you rode Mingi’s fingers. Although your bedroom was usually a quiet spot, it was soon overtaken by the sound of your soft cries and Mingi’s fingers thrusting into your weeping hole.

You let your head push back against the mattress as you whined in frustration and arousal. Your thighs were burning from Mingi holding them open to accommodate his large frame, and all you truly wanted to do was come on his cock.

Maybe you were made to ride his cock, a sneaky part of your arousal corrupted brain squeaked. Usually, you’d push those thoughts out of your mind but right now… You looked up at the man who sat over you. Mingi’s hair was a mess from you tugging on it earlier, with his vest hung open to expose his blood splattered chest and arms to you; leather string necklaces and chains hung from his neck, and it didn’t take long for you to pick out a pendant you had gifted him months earlier. His unbuttoned jeans stretched over his thick thighs, and hung low on his hips, exposing just enough skin that it made your mouth water.

Right now, you had no choice but to agree with the little voice that just maybe, you were made to ride Song Mingi’s cock.

You let out another whine at the revelation, bucking your hips into his hand as you reached for Mingi with a sweaty hand, “Min, I-I need you to fuck me now, please.”

Mingi takes your hand, using it as leverage to pull himself down and crush his lips into yours, “My baby needs my cock?”

His palm grinds against your clit, and the pressure is enough to turn any answer you might have for him into a broken moan. You kiss him harder, squeezing Mingi’s hand tightly in yours as you push your hips up to gain any kind of friction against him.

You wouldn’t even put it past yourself to begin grinding on his thigh wedged between your legs again - like some kind of bitch in heat.

The coil in your lower half begins to burn again, timing itself with the harsh thrusts of Mingi’s fingers and the way he kisses you, hard & unforgiving. When you move out of the kiss to place soft kisses and bites along his jaw, a broken whine escapes Mingi and it nearly topples you hard over the edge.

You buck your hips hard into his hand and kiss his neck, “I’m g-going to come,” You tell Mingi, who swears before kissing your cheek.

Hardly a second flashes before you, then the hand between your thighs is ripped away, along with it is the pleasure that you so desperately crave.

“Mingi!” You whine, trying to reach for him as he pulls his hand from your cunt, dodging your grabby hands and begins to move off of your bed, already tearing the vest off his body.

“‘think you should be good now,” Mingi gives you a teasing smile, beginning to push his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down his thighs.

He keeps his gaze on you as he begins to crawl back onto the bed, and you can see the fire that’s present in his eyes. He moves to settle between your thighs, though you can’t help but let your vision wander down his body.

A gruff laugh comes from Mingi as you feel one of his warm hands rest on your thigh. His other hand reaches for you, gently resting on your cheek as he moves over you, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You want to laugh at his bluntness, but he kisses you so hard that you can hardly react. His hand moves from your thigh to sit heavy on your hip as he pushes into you, and all you can do is whimper into the kiss.

Despite the prep (and your inner insistence that you could take him unprepared), Mingi is big, and you could hardly remember the last time you felt so full. It’s a euphoric feeling as he thrusts into you, holding you down against your mattress and pushing any non Song Mingi related thoughts out of your mind.

Your hands move as if they have a mind of their own; one of them moves to tangle back in Mingi’s hair, and Mingi groans before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Min, it feels so good.” The hand on your hip squeezes, pressing you harder into the mattress.

He smiles against your skin, and presses a kiss to your throat, “I’m not sure how long I’m going to last,” His voice is weak, and laced with wanton pleasure.

Mingi had been restraining himself all night - that much you knew. You had felt the change in his energy the moment he propped you up on his thigh in your living room, but he still took his time. He took his time teasing you, and drinking in everything you could give him, but you knew wanted more. Mingi wanted every last drop he could get from you, and you wanted him to have it.

You nod at his words, and try to pull Mingi closer to you. The incoming familiar waves of pleasure were already tugging at your strings, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would find yourself over the edge again.

You’d like to think it was the pleasure that spoke the next sentence that fell from your lips; or, maybe even the Mingi corrupted part of your brain, but you knew that you meant the following stuttered request with every ounce of your being.

“I wan’ you to come in me.”

Mingi’s hips stutter and he swears, “If I knock you up, you’d have to come with me.” He gives a hard thrust, as if proving a point, and seems to revel in the way it makes you gasp and clench around him, “Then, I might just knock you up again - for good measure.”

You can hardly contain the broken moan that falls from your lips, “Mingi… fuck, Joong would kill us.” You grip his arm, your nails digging into the flesh as he thrusts harder into your heat. You’d never admit (especially not to Hongjoong), but the idea Mingi proposed erupted a fire within you, and it burnt from head to toe.

A low growl escapes from his lips, as he presses another kiss into your sweaty skin, “Nah, Hongjoong would kill me. He could never hurt you, baby.”

He continues his kisses along your neck, and you feel the hand on your hip slowly move over your soft tummy before you feel his fingers graze over your clit again. He presses down on the sensitive nub as you mewl, pushing your hips up to meet his thrusts. The new angle presses his cock deeper into you, and you can feel the tendrils of euphoria begin to wrack through your body with every movement of Mingi’s hips and nimble fingers.

In that moment, you’re not sure how anyone will ever make you feel how Mingi does; how anyone will fuck you like this, or just simply look at you the way the tall gunman does.

Mingi’s hips stutter again as he gently nudges your cheek with his nose, “Y/N…”

You grip his arms harder; hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for Hongjoong and the others to find in the morning, but for now you just nod, “Mingi, come in me.” You repeat the demand.

Mingi presses a kiss on your collarbone as he moans, a breath of your name leaving his lips before he comes. The feeling of his seed spilling into you, and the warm hands on your body is enough to set off your own undoing, pushing you hard over the cliff.

Stars take over your vision, and your back arches as you ride out your orgasm against Mingi, trying to pull him closer into your orbit. You vaguely feel his hand take yours, and you begin to slowly recover while he presses soft kisses against your wrist and palm. He’s sweaty above you, and you can see the flush that overtakes his cheeks while he comes down from his own climax.

“Do you have to leave now?” You manage to croak out, scared to look at the clock next to your bed.

Mingi glances at the clock, and a frown crosses his face - just for a moment. He shakes his head though, “No, not yet.”

His voice is soft, and you know he’s lying to you. He’s still holding your hand as he moves to lie next to you on your bed. The bed is small enough that he crowds you against the wall, but you two had done this enough times that you expect it; in fact, you almost welcome the crowding that comes from having Song Mingi in your bed.

You’d take anything to spend more time with him, but for now you settle with the soft kisses he’s placing on your hand.

“You know what to say if they come looking for us?”

You nod.

“I’m sorry,” Guilt racks his voice, and you’re not sure what he’s sorry for. Maybe he’s saying it for Hongjoong, who pulled you back into this, or maybe he’s sorry for leaving.

Maybe he’s sorry for loving you, when neither of you could afford to be loved.

You don’t want an answer though, and instead you pull him back into your orbit and settle for slotting your lips against his one last time.

—

When you wake alone in the morning, you can’t help but notice the small doll in the arch around your door is gone - only the blank wallpaper behind it remains.

As your hand moves to touch the mouth-shaped bruise on your throat, you somehow find comfort in the broken arch of charms.

#ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #ateez angst #song mingi angst #ateez scenarios #b.

255 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

i need more dadrry content with his 6 children 😩

Mom’s Night Out

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

“I can always stay home. Really, it’s no big—”

“You’re going.”

“Are you sure? Because Simone still has to do her reading assignment for school, and the twins sometimes pretend to brush their teeth, and Natalia’s teething—”

“Y/n. I’ve got this.”

Y/n stayed quiet as she fastened her earrings in the bathroom. Harry was sitting on their bed with Natalia while she got dressed, but he was also there to convince her to actually leave.

“You know, your silence gives me all the confidence in the world,” Harry said, slightly joking. He could watch the kids on his own while Y/n went out with some friends for a few hours. Did she think he couldn’t?

“I know. I’m sorry. I have total faith in you, baby,” she said, stepping out from behind the bathroom door. “Okay. How do I look? Is it too much?’

Harry’s tongue went dry before he could respond.

Y/n had always been the most stunning person he knew, but seeing her all dressed up...

“Wow, Mama,” he breathed. “You look incredible.”

He never needed reminders that his wife was beautiful. Even when he worked with actresses and models or did PR stunts, his heart was always with Y/n; there was truly no one else who could even come close to her. But even so, he suddenly felt lucky that she was his.

“You think? I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up.”

If Harry hadn’t been holding an infant, he would’ve shown her just how nice he thought she looked, but he settled for taking her hand and kissing it. “I don’t think, I know. I’m slightly worried about all the attention you’re gonna get now. No one knows you’re a married woman.”

Y/n blushed, but didn’t reply. Instead she took her youngest daughter into her arms and kissed her little cheeks.

By the time it was officially time for Y/n to leave, Harry had to practically force her out the door. She kept finding excuses to prolong her departure —laundry that needed to be switched out, putting Geneva down for a nap, helping the twins with a Lego set—until Harry finally ordered an Uber and told her to stop fussing and have a good time.

“Be good to Daddy, okay?” were her final words before she closed the door and Harry was alone with six children.

Harry knew this day was coming, had been preparing the last couple days. He bought games, ice cream, picked out movies to watch with the kids. It was going to be a fun night.

And then Simone said she was going to watch YouTube upstairs, Collette followed, and the twins went back to their Lego set, leaving Harry alone with the babies. He couldn’t say he wasn’t a little hurt because he was, but perhaps he should’ve expected everyone to go to their separate corners.

“Guess it’s just us, huh?” he said to Geneva and Natalia, who were both sitting in their high chairs.

“Baby Shark?” GiGi asked in her adorable little toddler voice.

“You got it, peanut.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Harry was expecting a more eventful night, but it was relatively quiet. GiGi, Natalia, and the twins went to bed early, and Simone and Collette were still playing together in their room the last time he checked on them. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, Harry thought, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Wife💕: How’s it going?

Harry smiled down at the text and typed his own reply. Taking a picture of him in bed with a book.

Harry: House hasn’t burned down yet!

He watched as the three little text bubbles appeared on his phone, wondering what she was up to. Harry wished he was with her so they could have a little date, but he knew how much Y/n needed this, even if she didn’t say it. She was always home or working, always driving the kids from place to place. She deserved a night off.

Wife💕: I’ll be home soon. Give my little munchkins a kiss for me

Harry: What about me?

Wife💕: You’ll get your kiss later

Harry couldn’t complain about that, could he?

He read a little more soon after their conversation ended, but before long, he heard a cry from the baby monitor. Not surprised that Natalia woke up, Harry got out of bed to put his daughter back to sleep.

When he made it to the nursery, she was wriggling in her crib, eyes scrunched up as she cried. Harry tried rocking the crib for a few minutes before picking her up, hoping that Natalia would fall back asleep without any trouble, but she kept on crying.

“Daddy’s here,” he cooed, reaching down into the crib to pick her up. “Did you have a bad dream, darling?”

Harry continued mumbling words and holding her to his chest until she calmed down. Which was not easy. He changed her diaper, wrapped her up nice and tight the way his mum taught him when Simone was born, he tried to sing her to sleep and feed her a bottle, but nothing seemed to work.

He finally left the nursery, deciding to walk around the house until Natalia fell asleep. By a stroke of luck, she seemed to like the sound of the laundry tumbling in the machine, and she finally stopped crying. It was a while before she fell asleep, but Harry felt just a bit more sane than before.

His shirt was wet with tears and snot by the time Natalia was back in her crib, and his own eyes were feeling heavy. He sat down on the rocking chair, his head falling heavily to the side when he heard yelling coming in the hallway. Simone and Collette.

“Give it back!”

“It’s my turn to pick!”

“Your videos are dumb!”

“You’re dumb!”

“Dad, Simone is being mean!”

“Don’t be a tattle tale!”

It was hard to keep up with his oldest daughters. One moment they were inseparable and the next they were at each other’s throats. Harry knew siblings had their little squabbles here and there, but Simone and Collette really got into it when the mood struck, though Y/n assured him that was common among sisters. Either way, it often gave him whiplash.

Their argument woke up Natalia, who immediately started crying again, and Harry almost felt like crying himself. But then he thought of Y/n and how this would be a minor issue for her, and he told himself to buck up.

Taking Natalia out of her crib once again, he went out to see what the problem was between his oldest girls.

“Alright, what’s all this?” he said, making sure his voice carried over theirs.

Simone and Collette immediately launched into their sides of the story at the same time, but Harry was used to getting the gist by now. Something about not sharing the iPad, ripping it out of the other’s hand, and name calling. When they finished, Harry didn’t really know what to say. He was tired, Natalia was still crying her little lungs off in his ear, and his first solution was to throw the iPad into the ocean.

But he took a deep breath and spoke to each of his daughters individually. “Simone, you know the rules. You share the iPad, and you especially don’t call your sister names.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Harry said, then turned to Collette. “And you. You know better than to rip things out of people’s hands.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears.

“I—It’s okay,” he said gently, pulling Collette in for a hug.

Then, out of nowhere, Simone began to cry as well. Harry’s eyes widened, not expecting more tears. He was still holding Natalia, but he managed to wrap an arm around both Simone and Collette, who seemed to cry harder when her older sister came closer.

“What in the world...” he muttered to himself. Three out of his six children were all crying, seemingly out of nowhere, and Harry was absolutely baffled. He hated hearing his kids cry. Was he too hard on them?

But then, in the midst of all the crying and noses rubbing into his shirt, Harry noticed something. It was almost as if Simone and Collette were trying to outdo the other. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

And then, through a sniffle, Simone said, “Are we still in trouble?”

What? Harry couldn‘t believe it. He thought he was being a stern parent, and he was being played like a fiddle. The minute he saw his girls in tears he turned to mush. How many times had this happened before?

“Yes,” Harry said, trying not to let Collette’s sniffles break him. “No more iPad tonight or tomorrow. Both of you.”

The sniffling stopped as Collette looked up. “Why?”

Her eyes were wide and lined with tears, her bottom lip jutted out just so, but Harry held strong. “Because you weren’t nice to your sister, and she wasn’t nice to you, and now you have a consequence.”

“But Daddy—”

“No but Daddy. You can have it back the day after tomorrow. Now apologize to each other.”

They both mumbled something under their breath that perhaps resembled an apology, but that wasn’t good enough for Harry. Honestly, he was still a little miffed that Simone and Collette played him.

“Like you mean it,” he said, then nodded when he was satisfied. “Good. And because you two woke her up, you’re gonna help me put Natalia to sleep.”

Simone slumped her shoulders, but followed Harry back to her bedroom while Collette took his hand. Right, he thought. One crisis down, one more to go.

“Play with her while I grab something,” he told Simone, jogging back to his room for pillows, extra blankets, and Natalia’s swing. When he returned, Natalia wasn’t crying, but she was wide awake while her sisters played peekaboo. “Okay, we’re gonna hang in your room for a bit,” he said, switching on the colorful lamp that casted soft light on the walls and ceiling. “Help me lay these down.”

They all got comfortable—Simone at the bay window where Harry had made a little alcove for the girls a couple months back, Collette in her teddy bear bean bag chair, and Harry on the floor with Natalia.

“What now?” Collette asked.

“Now,” Harry said, playing some soft music from his phone. “I’m going to read.”

To his surprise, Harry didn’t receive any protest from the girls. After putting Natalia in the swing, he took a book at random from the bookshelf, opened it, and began to read.

He made sure to use different voices and push Natalia’s swing while he read. Eventually Collette moved onto her bed, and from the few times he looked up, Simone’s eyes were getting heavier. Natalia took a bit longer, but she eventually closed her eyes, and Harry was suddenly the only one awake, though not by much.

He was debating whether to leave Natalia in the swing a little longer or move her back to the nursery when the door opened.

“Hey, little man,” Harry said, opening his arms up for Julian to walk into. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I had a bad dream,” he said, his hand immediately reaching for Harry’s hair.

“I’m sorry, bubba. Do you want me to sit with you? Make sure the bad dreams stay away?”

“Wanna sleep in your room. I want Mommy.”

“Me too,” Harry sighed. “She’ll be back soon. Don’t you think she’ll be so proud if she sees you sleeping in your big boy bed?”

Jules shook his head, his mind clearly made up.

“Okay, I tried. I have to take Natalia back to her crib first. Is that okay?”

Harry first picked up Simone and put her back on her own bed. He kissed her forehead and then Collette’s, then took Natalia out of her swing. She moved around a little, but didn’t wake up, which Harry thanked his lucky stars for. Julian followed him into the nursery and quietly waited for Harry. When they finally made it to Harry’s room, someone was already there.

“You too?” he asked quietly, Maeve already fast asleep in the middle of the bed. Looking down at Julian, he said, “Where are Mum and I supposed to sleep?”

Julian merely held his arms up towards Harry, and Harry responded accordingly by picking him up and climbing into bed.

When Y/n entered the bedroom, Harry was doing everything he could to stay awake. She was only gone a couple hours, but he was exhausted.

“Got a full house tonight,” she mused, eyeing the twins sleeping soundly in her bed.

Harry stood up and followed her to the bathroom so they could talk while she got ready for bed. She told him about her night out with her friends and where they ended up going to dinner. She’d had a lot of fun, but she missed her babies.

“How was everything here?”

For a moment, Harry considered telling her that everything was smooth sailing the whole time, but he shrugged. “Natalia had a tough time falling asleep, and you know the girls. Had to take the iPad away.”

“Really? Wow,” she said, sounding surprised. But not that he had to, Harry realized, but that he did so at all.

“I can be stern when I have to be,” he said, defending himself.

Y/n smiled and wrapped her hands around her husband’s neck. “Baby, I love you, but you’re as soft as a marshmallow when it comes to the girls.”

“That is not—” he stopped himself to lower his voice. “That is not true.”

“I bet they cried to get you to cave,” she said, a knowing glint in her eye.

Harry just pouted. “I hate when you’re right.”

Y/n leaned up and kissed him, her hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I love it.”

They kept kissing, Harry suddenly no longer tired. He pushed Y/n up onto the bathroom counter, his lips trailing down her neck and along her jaw. He began to kiss down her chest, pulling the top of her dress down when he heard a small voice from the other side of the bathroom’s door.

“Daddy?”

Both of them sighed, and Harry helped Y/n down from the counter. They straightened each other out before opening the door to see Maeve, hair a tangly mess and stuffed animal dangling from her hand.

“Mommy! You’re home!”

“Mommy’s home?”

Julian was suddenly off the bed and launching himself at Y/n, who was quick to catch him. She gave Harry a look, and he understood it perfectly. He leaned over, Maeve in his own arms and kissed his wife’s forehead.

Next time.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young parent!harry styles #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

933 notes · View notes

coryosmin · 4 months

Text

jealous confessions - best friend! coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Note: I don’t think this needs any warnings but if one needs to be added please let me know. This blurb is a bit rushed so I apologize if it’s not up to my usual level of writing!

Coriolanus was stood in the corner of the auditorium as he watched you flirt with some boy in a grade below you guys. He was a well-known cheater and player. Coriolanus was annoyed, to say the least, that you would ever allow yourself to be “woo’d” by someone like that. It was pathetic. Especially when you deserved so much better than that.

You and Coriolanus had been friends for many years. Though you had always gone to school together, you hadn’t really become friends until you both were about eight years old when some girl on the playground had pushed you simply because she didn’t like you. Coriolanus had stood up for you, exclaiming that it wasn’t nice to push others simply because you dislike them. And from there on out, you both became best friends.

At the age of nine, he confided in you about how he was living. It was in a simple, childhood sort of secretive way. But it was a secret you always kept to yourself. You never judged him, you never pitied him, you never yelled at him. You would invite him over to dinner at your house at least once a week. Coming from a prominent Capitol family, Coriolanus wanted to stay in your good graces but he couldn’t help it when his feelings for you became more than just platonic childhood friends.

He was possessive over you without even realizing it. When you both had hit puberty, your curves began to develop and all the boys in your grade began to allow their hormones get the better of them. Never Coriolanus though. He was always respectful, there for you when you needed him to be, made sure no one touched you without your explicit consent.

There had been an incident when you both were sixteen. You and Coriolanus were studying in the library when you had gotten up to go use the bathroom, telling Coryo you would be right back. And when you took longer than you should’ve, Coriolanus got worried and had walked into the hallway, seeing some boy trying to make his move on you. You were pulling away, clearly uncomfortable. And the moment the boy tried to unbutton your top, Coryo had walked up to him and punched him. Because how dare someone try to touch his best friend without her consent?

And now, here you were, flirting with someone who’s just going to do the same thing, in fact probably even worse. Because this dude will literally just make you fall for him, use you, cheat on you, and then break your heart. And who will have to pick up the pieces? Coriolanus. Though he wouldn’t mind. He liked being there for you. It made him feel confident in himself when you always came to him with your problems.

It wasn’t fair in Coriolanus’s mind. You’re his. You’re not anyone else’s. You’ll always be Coryo’s best friend.

At the end of the evening, you and Coriolanus had walked out of the Academy event. You were gushing about how that guy was so interested in you. You had that stupid beautiful smile, your cheeks were stupidly red, and you looked annoyingly ecstatic. And as you guys walked through the park that’s near your apartment building, Coriolanus was fed up.

He rolled his eyes, stopping in his tracks. “Can you please just shut up?” He exclaimed, looking over at you.

You stopped as well, furrowing your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

Coriolanus took a deep breath. “You’ve been talking about this guy since he gave you his number,” Coriolanus rolled his eyes. He was definitely annoyed. He’ll certainly feel guilty later for telling you to shut up. “He’s not even all that great.”

“I’m sorry that someone being interested in me is annoying to you?” You said, clearly confused by Coriolanus’s reaction.

Coriolanus let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, he’s totally into you alright.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, frowning at Coriolanus.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes again. God, how many times was he going to do that during this conversation? He really needs to stop. It could truly become a bad habit. “He just wants to get into your pants, Y/N.” Coriolanus said bluntly.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond but then closed it. Her face went from one of anger to disappointed. “You really think so?”

Coriolanus’s heart sunk as he saw your face become disappointed. He sighed, nodding his head. “He’s a known cheater,” He exclaimed. “He doesn’t deserve your time or attention.”

You frowned. “It seems everyone in the Capitol doesn’t deserve my time or attention according to you.” You said, unable to help yourself. Maybe it was said out of annoyance, you weren’t quite sure why you said it truthfully.

Coriolanus agreed. “You’re right. No one in the Capitol deserves you.” He said, pointing his chin towards you. “Because you deserve greatness and no one will ever be worthy of your time except me.”

“Coriolanus, I can’t stay single for the rest of my life simply because no one meets your standards.”

“I meet my standards,” He replied simply, looking at you with an intense gaze.

“What?” You asked.

“I like you, Y/N,” Coriolanus said, stepping closer to you. “I have for awhile now. And I think you should not allow yourself to entertain the attentions of simpleton minded people when I have been in front of you this whole entire time.”

You listened to Coriolanus with an unknown gaze. Coriolanus looked into your eyes but couldn’t tell what you were thinking at all. It was as though, for once in your life, you’ve hidden yourself from him and he didn’t like that. He wanted- no needed you to be open with him as well if he’s going to risk his friendship with you over his pathetic emotions. You didn’t reply which made Coriolanus’s heart rate heighten as anxiety started to course through him.

“I need you to say something before I think of the worse,” Coriolanus’s voice was a bit shaky as he spoke, much different than his usual compose and confident manner of speaking.

You blinked a few times as you processed his words. “Sorry, I-” You cut yourself off. “Are you-” You stopped yourself again before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath and then opening them again. “Do you actually like me or are you just saying it?”

Coriolanus frowned as he heard your words. Why would he risk his friendship with you if he hadn’t meant what he said? You’re the only person he actually gives a damn about other than his cousin and his grandma’am. The fact you’d think his feelings were not genuine stung a bit. But he shook it off. “I actually like you.”

“And you want to be with me?”

“I’ve wanted to be with you since we were sixteen.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You asked.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way.” Coriolanus admitted.

“But I do,” You said softly. “Coryo, I’ve liked you since the day you stood up for me. But I never said anything because you made it seem as though dating was below you. And you never acted interested in anyone.” You sighed, tilting your head as you reached to grab his hand.

Coriolanus looked down at your hands before looking back at your eyes. He moved forward to wrap his other arm around you. “Because I’ve only ever eyes for you.” He murmured.

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #thg tbosas #thg #tbosas #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow

228 notes · View notes

stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

Note

heyyy, could you maybe write a fic with the entire sully family x reader, where she is part of the metkayina clan, and after they get to stay she has to introduce the family to everything (instead of tsireya and aonung). They get closer and she’s a good friend to them.

She is very sweet, loves children and treats tuk like her own (this is a key element hihi)

So one day, after she goes out with tuk to entertain her, they get attacked by someone you can decide (I’m sorry but I need something angsty😭) and reader protects tuk and saves her life.

But, and here comes the “plot twist”, the sully’s misunderstand the situation and think reader did it on purpose or was trying to hurt tuk and they’re all angry and furious at her, not letting her explain.

So she retreats and doesn’t leave her marui pod for days, until someone from the clan clears it up, and they apologise to her… YOU CAN DECIDE THE ENDING, WETHER ITS HAPPY OR SAD!!!!

Thank u in advance and I have to say, I absolutely love your writing, every time I finish one of ur fics I crave moreeeee!!!❤️

summary: [y/n] saves the life of tuk, but at what cost?

a/n: hopefully this turned out good !! i’m kind of bad when it comes to misunderstanding trope because i kind of hate it ( whoopsies ) but i think it turned out okay ?? i’m just glad i finally was able to publish something after a few days. reblogs + feedback are always appreciated !!

tags: @rafeslovergirl@wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @fleurbeass @nyotamalfoy @23victoria

warnings: mentions of blood, injury, fear, a monster-like creature pursuing tuk and [y/n], jake and neytiri being kind of mean, scars, almost dying, passing out, a lil angst, happyish ending

words: 2.4k

i would do it again

she hadn’t meant for it to go the way that it did. everytime she replayed the scene in her head, tears pricked [y/n]’s eyes. what could’ve happened—what should’ve happened. she continued to thank eywa that both her and tuk made it out alive and safe.

it’d been that morning when the youngest sully bounded up to [y/n] in the middle of her chores. “[y/n]!” she cried, joy evident in her voice.

[y/n] could not help but grin, looking up from the net that she was busy detangling. “good morning, darling tuk!”

the sully family had been in awa’atlu for several months at that point, but [y/n] had been friends with them since they first arrived. [y/n] was a former warrior of the clan, despite how young she was. she was only twenty years old, but after a former event resulting in a very severe injury, [y/n] was quickly deferred to a safer alternative that still allowed her to help her clan.

after the incident, [y/n] found herself working with the children. it was her job to begin teaching them the ways of the water, which included breathing, swimming, and free-diving. when they got to the age of learning to hunt, they were passed along to another teacher.

that was how [y/n] first met the sullys.

after tsireya and ao’nung toured the village with them, the future tsahik introduced them to [y/n]. “she will be helping us teach you our ways.”

and so she did. although her schedule was far too busy to always attend the lessons, [y/n] was there as much as she possibly could, rewarding each and every child on their progress.

[y/n] was also introduced to neytiri and jake sully by tonowari. the ole’eyktan was quick to tell them of her honorable history, especially regarding the injury. [y/n] didn’t miss the way the toruk makto’s sympathetic eyes flickered to the large scar that still burdened her up and down her right leg. but, for the first time in a long time, his careful stare did not cause her insecurity. instead, it made her feel safe, especially as she limped up and down the beach.

it did not take long for the sully family to entrust [y/n]. she was kind, caring, and she was always there to help them. a part of [y/n] drifted to the sully family once neytiri began treating her as if she was one of their own, often inviting her over for dinner.

for the first time in years, ever since the deaths of her parents, [y/n] felt like she had a true family again.

so, given their history, [y/n] was not at all shocked at the arrival of tuk on that sunny morning.

“[y/n]!” she yelled once again, stopping in front of the metkayina girl. “oh my eywa, [y/n],” tuk panted, hands clasping her knees as she caught her breath.

“oh, my!” [y/n] laughed, smiling up from where she sat on the dock. “what is the matter, dear?”

“it is so nice out today!”

[y/n] chuckled at that. “oh, isn’t it?” leave it to tuk to cause a panic only for her to exclaim that the weather was good.

“we should go out,” tuk decided, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave [y/n] a look.

[y/n] only raised the muscles above her eyes. “you think so?”

tuk nodded vigorously. “yes, i do! kiri is busy with mother, lo’ak wants nothing to do with me, and neteyam refuses to take me out ever.” once she finished her short rant, she stuck out her bottom lip and widened her eyes. “please, [y/n]?”

“tuk,” [y/n] groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “that’s unfair. you’re too adorable to refuse!”

tuk grinned pridefully. “i know, isn’t it awesome?”

just like that, the two soon found themselves sharing a ride on an ilu through the reef. [y/n] smiled at the way tuk’s arms flew outwards, allowing her to reach out and feel the tingling sensation as they passed through the thick waters.

the coral was gorgeous that morning thanks to the rays of sunlight that beamed through the surface, lighting up the seafloor. “look,” [y/n] signed to tuk, pointing out a crab that waddled across the ground.

a chuckle left the sully’s lips as indicated by the small trail of bubbles that floated above them. [y/n] grinned at the way tuk raised her hand, waving at the small creature that strolled across the ocean floor.

of course, it could only stay perfect for so long, and unfortunately, the perfection did not last long enough.

[y/n] immediately felt something was wrong when the water turned the slightest bit colder. although the sully girl did not notice, the chills rising on [y/n]’s arms sent her panicking. when her ilu rumbled in dismay beneath them, she knew they needed to turn around.

“it is time to go back,” [y/n] signed quickly, the annoyance being difficult to ignore from behind her. before tuk could sign anything back, the older girl rose her hand and gestured for her to stay quiet.

just as she directed the ilu to turn around, [y/n] noticed how quiet it was. for once in her life, [y/n] could hear nothing. it was just them and the ocean.

the fish were gone, fleeing into their homes. the crab on the ground was quickly sheltered by his hole in the sand. not even the water swayed all that much. a chill settled deep in [y/n]’s bones.

she panicked at the feeling of tuk’s arms wrapping around her waist, the sully’s small face pressed into her back. it was when she felt tuk’s hand hit her that she was prompted to look up from where she observed the quiet reef.

[y/n] nearly choked on the salty water when the sight of large animal. it loomed overtop of them, a shadow cast on top of them from his mere size. it’s flippers were large, but not nearly as large as his teeth were.

although it was only split seconds, it felt like a billion years until either of them made their first move.

when the creature attempted to close the distance between them, [y/n] sent the ilu flying beneath the beast. she swallowed a yelp at the feeling of the water by her ear, his mouth nearly having chomped it off had they not moved so fast.

unfortunately, the monster was as smart as it was quick, and it was soon adjusting. with one last look over her shoulder, [y/n] sent the ilu shooting forward.

tuk’s arms clasped [y/n] desperately, her eyes hidden from reality due to the fear it brought. at that, [y/n] urged the creature they rode on to swim even faster.

as much as the ilu tried, it was nothing compared to the fins that carried the monster behind them. once [y/n] felt it catching up, the only thing she could think to do was unattached her queue from the ilu and grab tuk. as they rolled off the side, [y/n] choked back a scream at the sight of her ilu being swallowed by the beast in one quick gulp.

blood blossomed in the water. tuk stared aimlessly, her cries not going unheard. [y/n] grabbed her face, pressing a hand overtop her mouth. not only could the beast hear, but tuk was losing breath.

“hush, darling,” she signed, eyes attentive to their surroundings. “you must be quiet. it will all be okay, do you understand?” tuk only nodded.

they hid behind a large rock-like structure, and [y/n] carefully peeked out to catch an understanding of where they stood versus the beast. she instantly rolled back around, back pressed against the textured piece of nature. he was close. dangerously so.

and so, [y/n] began to hatch a plan. as she would swim out, tuk would start swimming towards the surface. [y/n] was a trained warrior and swimmer, she could outswim the monster if she used the coral to her advantage. tuk just had to get back to civilization.

just as she turned to tell tuk of her plan, it appeared that it was far too late. she only whimpered once she felt the cold temperatures of the shade once again.

[y/n] grabbed tuk’s hand, praying to eywa that tuk would stay strong and stay smart. at least one of them needed to make it out alive, and it had to be tuk.

with one last squeeze of her hand, [y/n] stood up and locked eyes with the creature. behind her back, her fingers moved gracefully to communicate to tuk.

once she was done, she brought her hands above her head, making herself seem bigger as a small attempt, although it was more of a signal to tuk. with her arms up, tuk launched herself out and up, and the beast launched itself directly at [y/n].

she dodged almost perfectly if it weren’t for the spikes that took over his skin. she hissed as her skin caught one of the thorns, flesh tearing quickly.

[y/n]’s plan was, unfortunately, not at all fool-proof. dread settled in her gut as the beast’s eyes broke away from her and instead watched the distance thanks to the sight of a swimming na’vi.

“no!” she tried to scream, although the words came out extremely muffled because of the quick water.

and so, she let every primal instinct she ever had take over.

[y/n]’d never swam so fast in her life. she let the water take over, let eywa bless her and her senses. for the first time in a couple years, she could not feel the injury of her leg. it was just her and the sea.

her eyes did not leave tuk once, not even when the swam side-by-side with the monster. not even when he nearly ate her. she was far too quick for him.

they were throat-to-throat, and yet, at the last second, [y/n] sped ahead of the beast and launched herself on top of tuk. she cradled the girl as the water seemed to burst in every direction.

and then she blacked out.

when [y/n] awoke, she found herself in the comforts of her own home. the sun blinked through the marui, a feeling that caused [y/n] to smile.

that smile was quickly gone once she remembered exactly what happened before she’d passed out.

when [y/n] shot up, tsireya was quick to attend her side. “[y/n]!” she calmed, voice quiet and gentle. “[y/n], it is okay. you are okay! you are safe.”

[y/n] couldn’t even form full sentences. “tuk.”

“tuk is alive and well. she’s been awake for an hour or so, waiting for you.” tsireya’s smile faded. “but.. the sullys are keeping her from visiting.

[y/n]’s eyes narrowed at the news, confusion clouding her head. “what? why?”

“they think you did it.”

days go by, and [y/n] was quiet. quieter than she has been in years, ever since her injury. ever since her parents death. the guilt was nearly the same, nearly just as heart-wrenching.

they did not trust her. they thought she would hurt tuk. the mere thought of it sent [y/n] spiralling.

the olo’eyktan’s family tried to visit her often, but she was cut off. even when they did somehow make it inside, she was dry, often not even answering them. it was as if she pretended they didn’t exist.

[y/n] didn’t look so good either. she was leaving her own health as the last of her priorities, as if they didn’t matter compared to the fact that they didn’t trust her.

it was only thanks to the trustful word of tsireya that the sullys finally had clear enough minds to come and visit.

it was a quiet night, the only sound heard being the crash of the waves against the shore. [y/n] was busy poking at the food ao’nung delivered just moments before. she couldn’t find an appetite to even attempt eating the food, despite what she promised him.

at the sound of two bodies walking into her pod, she jumped onto her feet. ever since the incident, she was on extremely high alert. even when she slept at night, all she saw were the jaws of that monster… and then the way that the sea exploded around her.

time froze when she saw the guilty faces of jake and neytiri.

“[y/n],” jake’s voice was quiet, broken. almost as bad as she felt. “[y/n], we are so sorry.”

[y/n] only blinked. “why?” she swallowed, putting her food down behind her before taking a step towards the couple. “why in the world should you be sorry? it was only like i risked my life for your daughter and you didn’t even have the kindness to come and talk to me.” she shook her head. “i had to hear it from tsireya that you hated me. you didn’t give me a chance.”

neytiri sniffled, eyes full of guilty tears. “we understand. and that is why we are here.” she attempts to step towards [y/n], but retracts when she feels the younger girl tense. with a quick sigh, she continues. “we were worried. worried about our baby. all we knew is that you washed up together, and tuk was hurt because of something out on the reef. you were the only one with her. and we just… we thought, since you knew the reef so well, there was no way you could have run into such trouble.”

[y/n] paused before shaking her head. “i don’t know what that monster was,” she whispered. “i have never seen such a ghastly thing in my life.”

jake nods. “we know. we know that now, and we should have never doubted you. for that, we are so extremely sorry, and we are so extremely thankful that you kept tuk alive.”

[y/n] paused. after the years she spent grappling for approval from everybody on the island, after gaining it through risking her life, this was the first time that she truly felt fulfillment.

when tears welled up in her eyes, she allowed the parents to hug her. at the warmth of their arms around her trembling body, she whispered, “i would do it again.”

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #sully family x reader #sully family x y/n #tuk sully #tuktirey #sully family #kiri sully #sullys stick together #sully siblings #metkayina #metkayina!reader #sully family x platonic!reader #jake sully x platonic!reader #neytiri x platonic!reader

672 notes · View notes

blues-valentine · 1 year

Text

I think it’s insane people are going with the "they've ruined JJ’s character on season 3" because his attitude this season is mostly a natural reaction to the abuse he has suffered. JJ being self destructive and impulsive isn’t an uncommon trait, the only new thing about him is being a lot more softer and vulnerable.

The shift in JJ when they got back to OBX was pretty natural for him. He was the most attached to the idea of living in the island. The island allowed him to forget who he really is, or any of them are. The island was paradise, a way to disguise reality. They were together, he didn’t need anything else. No one was trying to kill them or divide them. In the island, he felt like he was at equal footing with everyone.

Then, he is back at OBX with an eviction notice on the door. No job. No prospects. No parents while John B had gotten his dad back. The only one just as bad as him was Sarah but while she is allowed to go back to her kook life because they welcomed her — he has nothing else. He is reminded once again he is just a thief and will always be one. JJ has been abused by his dad and called worthless for all of his life.

He knows there was a shift in his relationship with Kie after the events on the boat. We get some clues from Cleo that everyone noticed the different vibe between them. For JJ, it was easier to fantasize with the idea of it out in a deserted island where he can’t think about the future or when the idea of her liking him back was not tangible. Now, they’re back at reality. They’re back at danger. And he has to face the fact that Kiara has a comfortable life. If he accepts that she loves him then her future will be tie to him and he’ll be asking if she regrets it.

That’s why Kie’s answer to if she preferred to stay in the island rather than go back to her parents house was so important for JJ to hear.

It’s easier for JJ to believe things aren’t possible for him but then there’s Kiara basically telling him she feels all of those things for him. It's not a fantasy now. JJ resisting what he feels for her and trying to be self destructive is pretty much JJ when he feels desperate. Mike didn’t make it any easier for him by telling him what he already feels so stealing from Mike was just to give Kie a reason to not love him, prove that they were right, he will never be good or at her level. Kie refusing to go with them to South America and JJ being like "that’s all I needed to hear" is him still trying to convince himself that Kiara would eventually regret being with him.

Kie wasn’t mad at him because he stole from her parents but because he is giving up and being self destructive. He did that on propose.

The thing is that she does not back off and I don’t think he was expecting that. He is used to people giving up or not caring enough but she does and that throws him off balance. It makes him desperate and reckless. JJ has been self destructive multiple times because he does not think his life has value. Kie was fighting for him but at the same time respecting the fact he is not used to this type of intimacy. It was well written in character perspective for both.

The writers just dropped the ball at not diving deeper into this. They should’ve had JJ discuss this with someone else (John B or Pope). Had Kie talk to Sarah about it. It was good thing but needed more execution in my opinion and they also needed more of the pogues just bonding.

#outer banks #obx season 3 #obx3 #jiara #jj maybank #kie carrera #kiara carrera #text post

564 notes · View notes

shadowbriar · 7 months

Text

Regulus Black - Supermassive Black Hole VII

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Selwyn!Reader Word Count : 4.6k Warning : Mention of food. Nothing else I think, just pure frustration from these to dumb children. Synopsis : A simple arrangement turned into an everlasting one as two naïve children try to figure out their heart. Notes : If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please comment or reblog so I can add you to the tag list. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Taglist: strikethrough means I could not tag you. If I tag you by accident and would like to be removed, please let me know. @lostarc24 @hogwartshouse @milivanili99 @stelleduarte @40rimm @lilmaymayy @mischiefmanagers @happilyjollynacho @bl00dyr3gulus @lonelywitchv2 @burns-in-the-sun @lanaspepsicoke @rabluver @sofiacblair @jsjcue @coffeehurricanes @ell0ra-br3kk3r @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @kaz-mf-brekker @wokeupinaustralia @dreamalittledreamofthemarauders @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @thisrandombitch @greenapplegrass @lothiriel9 @bunny24sstuff @starsval

↞ Part VI

Sweet.

The first thing Regulus noticed when his senses were coming alive was a sweet scent. The smell of warm florals with a hint of vanilla was intoxicating him. He keeps his eyes shut, wanting to have his smelling sense heightened. The scent was alluring, comforting in ways his dizzy mind could not explain. All he knew is that he wanted to stay forever in such a state, filled with the sweet perfume he’s grown familiar with.

Warmth.

The next thing Regulus could feel is warmth. Like his body was wrapped in a blissful embrace, tight enough to wash away every wary that has been plaguing his mind. The comfort it brings slowly mends each of his aching bones. He dares not to move a single muscle, afraid that such fragile delight would evaporate once he does.

Regulus lets out a sharp sigh when he opens his eyes. She was there, eyes closed and looking so peaceful mere inches from his face. Her chest was rising and falling at a steady pace. He could feel her arm wrapped around his waist as his own hand rested above it. With this close proximity, Regulus could only hope that the quickening of his heartbeat would not be loud enough to wake her from slumber.

He tries to recall the events that lead them to such a blissful state but the alcohol was blocking big chunks of his memory. He could only remember bits from last night. When he decided to get himself hammered and cleared the Greengrass’ stock of alcohol. He wasn’t even sure how he got back home. Did Sirius help him to get here?

Home. Regulus winces at the realisation of how neglectful he was being. He should’ve been the one to watch over her. He should’ve been the one to make sure that she was safe. Those are the least of what a good husband, and the bare minimum he should show in front of Rosier’s prying eyes last night, yet he’s done the complete opposite of it. Exactly how worse of a man can he be?

But in his defence, the night went quite heavily for him. Sirius knew about his feelings for her and it only made the guilt even heavier now. His selfishness feels all too real now that another soul knows about his deceitful sentiment. Added to the fact that he found her talking to Rosier, smiling and laughing at whatever sweetness Rosier tries to indulge her with. It was practically impossible for Regulus not to see red.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Regulus thinks of a way he could somehow fix the state he’s in. Perhaps he could offer to go to that theme park again and use it as a means of apology over his reckless behaviour. Their so called date to the theme park last time was ever so brilliant it might even be his pass of forgiveness from the impulsive kiss he did last night.

Regulus’ eyes travel to her lips as a smile blooms on his face. He kissed those lips last night. The lips that he’s been thinking about for years, the one he’s been yearning to kiss once again ever since their wedding, the very lips he’s desperate to taste again.

But given the circumstances, how he’s sure that his breath must smell like piss and the fact that he’s got a whole load of explanations to give her, Regulus knew better than to hope for such a pleasant gesture to reoccur. There's only so much damage he could do before he lost her for good and he would never dare to gamble with it.

Before he could peel his arm off of her, Regulus was stopped by the tightening of her embrace, “Unless you have to empty the inside of your stomach, you are to stay in your position, Regulus.”

Her eyes were closed still but her voice was clear and firm, as if she’s been awake for hours. Regulus couldn’t fight the heat forming on his cheeks. How he realises that she was not asleep during the minutes of him gawking into her face like the creep he is. He could only pray that her eyes were truly closed and that she didn’t see just how much desperation he has on his face whenever he gazes into her.

But then another thought dawned on him. Her arm was still encircling his waist, pulling him closer than before. Regulus dares not to ask nor make any commentary about it, fearing that the moment he brought it up she would retreat and push him away. The fact that she’s consciously willing to hold him this close is setting fire to every inch of his fibre.

“I reek of alcohol.” He manages to say.

“That you do,” She says, sighing as she opens her eyes “But you’re warm, so you’re not going anywhere unless I say so.”

Regulus stares at her eyes, wanting to be completely drowned into her gaze. His heart was racing, trying to keep his emotions packed and collected. He’s never been this close with her, never been this vulnerable and intimate. He could see every little detail of her face. Her beauty marks, her freckles, her features, everything. And as if it was ever possible, Regulus has found himself falling deeper in love with her.

“You’re looking at me weirdly,” She commented, her brows knitted “If you say anything remotely offensive about my morning state I will kick you off of the bed.”

Regulus smiles lightly, “I thought you said you like it that I’m warm.”

“I do,” She sighs, snuggling her face to his chest “That’s why after I kick you, I’ll ask you to come back to bed and hold me again.”

He was sure now that she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. It would be impossible for him to hide it with her closely tucked to his chest. Regulus has never felt more alive than now, feeling the jolts of electricity to jump up and down his spine. The smell of her shampoo was intoxicating. He couldn’t help but to pull her closer, burying his nose to her hair and letting his senses explode with her magnetism.

She whispers softly, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Regulus hums with a light nod “Yeah, this is okay.”

Regulus could feel her fingers drawing circles on his back, leaving invisible marks that he would kiss each night if possible. Everything feels surreal now. Like he was living all of the compiled pleasant dreams he’s had of her over the years. He sure knows not of what might trigger this, what he might drunkenly confess or do last night that made her welcome him with open arms, but he’s surely glad that it happened.

“Where did you go last night?” She asks, face still buried on his chest.

“I went looking for my parents and got sidetracked.”

“I can see that,” She says with a little chuckle “I’m offended you didn’t come and get me to join your little party.”

“Well you looked pretty comfortable with Evan.”

“Really, now?” She says with a raised brow, looking up to see his eyes with annoyed look.

“Do you like Evan?”

The expression on her face was telling for Regulus that he’s crossed a line he shouldn't thread with but his head was still heavy and the trace of alcohol left in his system does little to no help to keep his mouth shut. Better to do the worst damage possible now while he still has the alcohol as an excuse, he reckons.

She lays on her side now, resting her head on her arm as her elbow serves as support. She studies him, looking for any trace of jest on his face but there was only pure despair and agony that she wonders if she was reading him wrong.

“What is it with you and obsessing with me liking Evan?”

Regulus chuckles bitterly, “Believe me, knowing your answer would do the same damage as leaving me pondering for the truth.”

Her confusion only amplifies with his vague answer. Regulus still stares at her, begging for an answer. His hand now rests limp around her waist as if ready to retreat away if her answer wasn’t what he was hoping for.

“Does it matter what I feel for Evan?” She whispers, laying back down and pulling him closer “We’re married after all.”

She hoped that her answer would be enough to stomp whatever thoughts Regulus has in his mind. It doesn’t matter what she feels for Rosier, or whoever man in that matter, because truthfully speaking there has been no other man but him in her eyes. Shouldn’t the fact that they’ve exchanged vows for life be the only thing that matters now? She was his and his only, always.

But her assurance was lost in translation. Her answer only sounded as half a confession that she indeed had, or perhaps has, feelings for Rosier. And though she’s trying her best to ease his mind with her embrace, playing with the strands of hair that falls to his face, Regulus couldn’t seem to shake the underlying message he thinks she’s saying as it is engraved deep inside his brain now.

“I’m tired,” Regulus says instead, closing his eyes so he could stop the tears from escaping “Can I sleep for another hour?”

“Of course.”

“Will you stay?” He begs with a cracking voice “Please.”

There was a pause and Regulus struggled to keep his eyes closed, wanting to see what it is that she’s probably doing but before he could, he felt the bed shift as she lay back and rested her head to his chest, “I won’t go anywhere.”

—-

She could have sworn that it was just yesterday that she got off the Hogwarts Express and was escorted back home by one of her father's workers. It feels like it was just yesterday when she was forced to wear a wedding dress that isn’t really her taste and go down the aisle. It feels like it was just yesterday that Regulus kissed her at the altar, making her officially Mrs. Black.

Perhaps the fact that he’s been much warmer to her lately has made it seem as if time passes faster than it actually does.

Her sweet smile was blooming now as they walked down the busy alleyway of Diagon Alley. School starts in a few weeks and though they have pretty much all of their necessary kits for the upcoming semester, she knows that Regulus loves to visit the bookstores and get his hands on a couple of new books to bring to the castle.

“We don’t have to do this,” Regulus says, his face looking the least excited “I still have plenty of books I haven’t read that I could bring to Hogwarts.”

“I have some books I need to get for my potion class, this trip isn’t just for you.” She excuses, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers “You took Advanced Potion last semester, didn’t you? Any chance you could help me with my assignments?”

Regulus opens his mouth but before any words could leave his lips, he spotted Rosier and Crouch walking towards their direction, no doubt that they’re going to try and join them for whatever business they have here in Diagon Alley. So instead of answering her question, Regulus let go of her hold and shove his hand deep into his coat instead. Completely unaware of the hurt radiating from her eyes.

“Blacks!” Crouch greets excitedly “Fancy seeing you lovebirds.”

“Barty,” She says with half a smile “Evan.”

“There’s a long queue inside. I’ll get your books. You can wait here with Evan and Barty.”

“But—,”

Before she could give more words, Regulus already entered the bookstore and left the three of them alone outside. Sure the queue is long inside, it’s the start of a school semester after all, but it certainly is not enough of a reason to leave her alone with his friends, especially one who he’s been so worried about if she's having feelings for.

“Quite the gentleman, Regulus is,” Rosier mused, an impressed expression plastered on his face “Don’t you need to get the Divination book, Barty?”

Barty nods, excusing himself to get inside the busy bookstore and leaving her with Rosier. Once again completely unaware of the tension in the air.

Her eyes were still locked on the glass door, seeing the last spot she saw Regulus at before disappearing behind the shelves and crowd of people. Only twenty minutes ago was she certain that Regulus was opening up to her, returning the subtle affection she’s been trying to throw in his direction, but now she couldn’t help but to feel once again humiliated by her own expectations.

Regulus could switch from being the sweetest boy she could ever dream of to the coldest ice she’s ever touched in an instant. It’s like he has a switch in his head that he could flick whenever he pleases for whatever reason he deems worthy.

“Reckon they won’t come out for another half an hour,” Rosier says, trying to gain her attention “Fancy a cup of hot chocolate?”

“I’m fine waiting, thanks.”

Rosier pursed his lips, offering another suggestion that he’s not really excited to do, “Shall we go inside?”

She finally turns to face Rosier, seeing clearly that he desires not to enter the bookstore for whatever reason he might possess. A defeated sigh escapes her. Regulus’ act whenever it involves her and Rosier has been bizarre to say the least, but this would be the very first time he deliberately left the two alone. He’s always been the one trying to remove her from Rosier’s present, not to set the two together like this.

Hence for the sake of trying to understand Regulus’ motive, she shakes her head and forces a smile instead, “No, I’m good waiting here.”

A satisfied smile blooms on Rosier’s face, nodding in agreement.

There was a voice in the back of her head saying that she should just come in and look for Regulus, even when he might get all snappy at her for whatever twisted reason he has, but her feet were planted on the cobblestone. Perhaps it’s time for her to try and follow Regulus’ game instead of questioning each and every strange gesture he makes. Perhaps she could find the answer she’s looking for this way.

—-

“Excuse me,” A voice calls, making Regulus look down from the shelf he was scanning at “I was wondering where you got that Advanced Potion book from? I tried to pace around the Potion section but couldn’t find the one I needed.”

“Aquila,” He says in surprise before pointing at the direction where he got the said book from “It’s the third shelf from the Magical Creature section.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, “You know me?”

“I’m Regulus,” He says with a polite smile, offering his hand “Sirius’ brother.”

“Ah, right,” She accepts his hand with an even brighter smile “The grey eyes should’ve told me who you are.”

Regulus smiles once again.

“I didn’t know we needed that many potion books for the term.” She comments again, pointing at the stack of books on his hand.

“Oh, you don’t. You only need the ones Slughorn listed. I just took some reference books I thought might help for the course. I know they did wonders for me last semester.”

“Those aren’t for you?”

“No, these are for my..” Regulus gulps a little, a kaleidoscope of butterflies forming in his stomach “..wife.”

“Ah, Selwyn, right?” She muses “Where is she?”

“I told her to wait outside while I get the books. The store is crowded enough.”

An amused expression now visible on her, “Is your brother this romantic too?”

Romantic. Is that what he tried to do when he left her outside with Rosier? It certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when he entered the bookstore in a hurry, not wanting to spend another second witnessing Rosier yearning for her and what might possibly be the same sentiment she shares. The vague answer she gave a few days ago is still haunting him.

Regulus was already tormented enough knowing that he erased all possible chances of her being with someone better fitting than him, but he never really put much mind that that man might be Rosier. He has always been so convinced that Sirius was the one she has feelings for, that Sirius is the man she’s hoarding affections for, but now that Sirius told him that it wasn’t him, Regulus has to look back on all the interactions she and Rosier exchanged over the years.

Sure her laugh was never as loud as when she was with Sirius, but Rosier made her laugh still. She had no rejection when he pulled her for a hug that day of her birthday and she’s always been so worried about their ruined friendship, asking questions after questions about what happened between him and Rosier and in hindsight the chance that Rosier might actually be the person she fancies feels plausible now.

“Regulus?” Greengrass calls, placing a hand on his arm to snap him out of his thoughts “Are you alright?”

“Splendid,” He says with a smile, squeezing her hand a little in assurance “I should get going. I hope you find your books.”

Regulus walks himself to the cashier in a hurry, completely unaware of a pair of eyes watching the interaction that’s happened. If only he could get his head out of the knotted threads of worries, he would’ve seen the hurt from the eyes of the woman he loves.

—-

The trip back home was quiet. Too quiet for either of their liking but none dared to break the stillness. The questions running in each of their heads were too heavy, suffocating their lungs that it feels practically impossible to gasp for clean air. Each step away from Diagon Alley only fuels their near-to-implode heads with unanswered possibilities.

What did she talk about with Rosier?

What did he talk about with Greengrass?

Their hands were cold in the pocket of their coats. Fingertips itching to reach for each other but neither made a move. Afraid to be the only one craving for the other’s touch. Afraid to be the only one thirsty for the other’s affection. Afraid to be the only one in need of the other’s love.

“I just remembered,” Regulus finally says, stopping their pace on the side of the road “I need to get some quidditch equipment. My robe is torn from the last match.”

“I can come with you,” She offers “If you’d like.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be just fine going alone.”

“Regulus,” She finally creaks, taking a hold of his arm before he could slip away once again “What’s going on?”

Regulus’ brows knit, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been trying to avoid me all day,” She reasoned, her disappointment bleeding through her words “Don’t think I didn’t notice. Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No! I— I just—,” Regulus runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated over things he couldn’t share “You did nothing wrong. I just— I just thought it would be too much of an effort for you to walk back to the shop when we’re already halfway home.”

Her eyes study him. There was honesty and vulnerability in his explanation but the creases on his forehead tells her that it wasn’t the full explanation he owes her. That something greater, more gruesome and complicated is still haunting him. It pains her to know that he still couldn’t be as nude with his thoughts with her, even after all the progress they’ve made so far, but she knew better than to push him. She could only hope that her patience would last longer than his stubbornness to keep things to himself.

“I want to come,” She says, this time with more insistence “If I did nothing wrong and you’re not avoiding me, then I see no reason for you to tell me to go home. I want to come.”

The corners of his lips turn upward, “I never said I wasn’t avoiding you.”

A flash of hurt tainting her face, “You really were avoiding me?”

“Yeah,” He jests, shrugging “You reek of cheap perfume. Did Barty rub himself all over you?”

“Piss off.”

She rolls her eyes, laughing slightly as she circles her hand around his left arm. Regulus smiles at the touch, feeling victorious somehow that she’s been more confident with their intimacy. If only he could let go of that treacherous pride and initiate more of their close affinity.

“How come you never joke about Evan the same way you joke about Barty?” She asks as they begin their walk back to Diagon Alley.

Regulus sighs, feeling the bliss of their close proximity to deter a little, “They have a different history with me. Barty never accused me of treachery.”

“I’m sorry,” She shows an apologetic smile “I hope you two can figure it out one day.”

“Highly doubt it,” He chuckles before letting go of her hand, only to rest his arm on her shoulder and place her hand to his waist “Couldn’t care less about it, either.”

“You always say that but make a huge deal out of me talking with Evan.”

“What, a husband can’t be jealous of a man talking to his wife now?”

Her cheeks turn rosy. Could that be it? Could all the anger Regulus show whenever she’s with Rosier stems from jealousy? Could he actually be jealous that she was talking to another man?

“Since when are you this much of a tease?” She asks instead, nudging on his rib “Who are you and what have you done to my reserved, tranquil husband?”

“Oh he’s around, don’t worry about him.”

She smiles, letting Regulus pull her closer by the shoulder.

Times like this, she wished she could put in a bottle to admire at night. Moments when Regulus would show her a side of himself she’s never seen before. The person in him that is playful, full of tease and is unafraid to return the affection she tries to shower him with. Salazar knows she’d kill to have this version of Regulus forever.

“What did you talk about? With Rosier when I was in the bookstore?” Regulus asks, trying to mask his jealousy with a casual tone this time “I saw Barty entering the shop not long after I entered. Must be some interesting topic to talk about to have you planted out there.”

“Nothing,” She says truthfully “Nothing important worth remembering.”

Regulus hums, forcing a smile though it’s obvious that he wasn’t satisfied with her answer.

“What did you talk about with Aquila?”

He raised an eyebrow, “You saw that?”

“Well, quite hard to ignore when you two were standing feet away from the gigantic window.” She says, this time being the jealous party of the two “What did she want?”

“She only wanted to know where to get the potion textbook from,” He explains “Just some questions about potion class. Nothing special.”

She hums this time.

She could feel that Regulus was telling the truth, that Greengrass was only asking him for the potion textbook, but the truth hurt her still. The sight of him smiling at her, the faint hint of rosiness on Greengrass’ cheeks, all of it burns in her head like a cursed image.

She tries to recall if they ever had such lovely interaction before. If Regulus ever looked into her eyes, let alone smiled at her, when they talked, but all she could gather was an empty void. They have never interacted as pleasantly before their marriage. Even now she still thinks that most of his tender gestures were of formality, to quiet down the wandering eyes and whispered questions of others that would see them. To know that he could have an organic delightful exchange with a woman he was supposed to marry haunts her.

“Regulus,” She calls again. Her eyes glued to the cobblestone, unable to meet his eyes “Do you remember that deal we made in the library? About our fake dating?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Does it still apply? With our current condition?” She questions with an uncertain tone “We agreed to call things off if either of us started to catch feelings. Is there any way to call things off now that we’re married?”

Regulus blinks, trying to digest her words with his best ability. His feet have stopped moving, making her to finally look up to him now. It was never easy for him to read through her, but her question now has unlocked a new level of confusion.

What could she possibly mean? Is she telling him that she’s starting to catch feelings for him? Shouldn’t that be a good thing for him to hear? But why would she follow her questions with finding a way out of their marriage? Is that what she truly wants?

“I.. I don’t know.” He says at last.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, trying to find the answers they both are looking for. If only they would just spill the words that have been trying to burst out of their lips, if only they would push aside their pride for a minute, if only they would just listen to the silent cry of each others’ yearn, they would’ve found their answers.

But they were just children. They were just two naive sixteen year olds who thought that they'd stripped each other off of their rights to find their true love. They were just lost souls hoping for the other to be their soulmate.

“Do you want it to be?” He whispers, fear and hesitation bleeding through him “Do you need a way out of this?”

Her heart was beating faster now. Does she want it? Does she need a way out of this marriage? No, the answer would certainly be no. But would she be able to bear the guilt of preventing him from meeting his true lover? Would she be able to forgive herself from stealing his happiness? To stop him from being with someone who could’ve been a better pair for him?

“I don’t know,” She answers “I just— Nevermind.”

She tries to have them continue their pace but Regulus is still stuck on the ground, feet seemingly melting into one with the cobblestone. His eyes were still vacant, looking as if he’s just got his soul sucked out of his body. It wasn’t a good look for others to see but her questions have taken him so off guard that he couldn’t even gather the power to collect himself.

“Is this about Evan?”

“What?” She asks, appalled at his question “Why does everything have to circle back to Evan?!”

“I don’t know, because we were talking about him and you suddenly asked me this!”

“We weren’t talking about him, we were talking about Aquila!”

“Yes, but we were talking about Evan first, weren’t we?!”

The answer was laid bare now for them. That he was distraught about Rosier while she was insecure of Aquila, but neither of them were listening. Neither of them wanted to stop and look around. Too busy trying to untangle each other’s cryptic words to realise that their closure was right before their eyes.

“You know what, forget I asked. Forget I even said anything, okay? Can we just move on from this?” She says with an exasperated sigh “We need to run before the shops close.”

Regulus clenches his jaw. Without a word, he begins to move his feet. The two of them now continue their walk back to Diagon Alley, once again in an uncomforting silence and an even wider distance than before.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x oc #regulus back x y/n #regulus black scenario #regulus black scenarios #regulus black imagine #regulus black imagines #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #regulus black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction

121 notes · View notes

captain-mj · 5 months

Text

Portals

So Soap from Zombies and Ghost from campaign meet. That's the plot

CW: MCD I suppose? More they talk about the people that died before the fic starts

Ghost was drinking silently. He could feel how Price and Gaz were looking at him. The pity. The guilt.

“Simon. How are you feeling?”

“Captain. Please.” Ghost shut him down. Johnny’s ashes were probably still in the wind and they wanted him to talk.

Gaz tried a different approach. “Lieutenant. I miss him too.”

Ghost scoffed. Not because he doubted Gaz. He knew the two were best friends. It just… it wasn’t the same. There was no way they felt how he did in this moment because if they did, they wouldn’t look so fucking calm about it. It felt like he had finally found it. The piece that had been missing for so long. And once again, it had been ripped from him.

His heart felt frost bitten. Rotting.

“I know you loved him.” Price said softly.

“Doesn’t fucking matter. He’s gone.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be at square one.”

Ghost slammed his drink down. “I’m heading back to base. Have a nice night.” He got up and left, simply shutting them all out. He hated talking to them sometimes.

The grief hit hard, making him regret every ounce of liquor he had drank. Ghost got into bed and just laid there to think. Behind his eyes, he could feel the emotions bubbling and boiling. There was this tension in his chest that made it impossible for him to breathe in properly.

Simon missed Johnny.

He missed him a whole lot.

Ghost showered and then tried to sleep. Sleep was never easy. Ever. But tonight, he knew it was going to be particularly difficult. He sat there until morning came, just staring.

Price had Ghost and Gaz for an emergency meeting a few months later. Ghost had not… improved very much, but he was still working and acting normal, so no one had suggested he retire. They all knew how much he needed work. “We’ve received some… orders.”

Gaz smiled. “Oh, it’s never good when you phrase it that way Captain. What’s going on?”

“There has been a strange amount of… interference we’ll say. Apparently, there’s a shiny purple light emitting from the ground and when civvies go in… they don’t come out.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Doesn’t sound like something we’d handle, sir.”

“Not usually. But I’ve been told we’ll be handling it by a higher up.”

“How high?”

“I was told their identity was classified.”

Gaz whistled. “Must be intense.”

“You can say that.” Price sighed. “We live at 0800. Get dressed, get your gear, and go.” He rapped his knuckles against the table once and then left them alone.

Gaz looked to Ghost, clearly trying to get some form of interaction. “What do you think it is?”

“Probably some natural disaster. Deadly gas in the air causing a reflection of light. People getting blinded by some form of solar event and then getting themselves killed. Could be a few things.

Gaz looked… less than satisfied by that answer.

In a dimension slightly to the left, Soap had spent two years of his life dedicated to Deadbolt. Ever since the zombies had taken Ghost from him, he had to. The memory was still painful even after all of this time and some days it felt like it only got bigger. For a few days, he didn’t kill Ghost. He should’ve… He knew that now. Their existence was painful.

But it was unfair. He had went to him and found him while he was still changing.

Ghost had slammed his head into the wall, gun out of bullets. Soap had no doubts that Ghost would’ve killed himself if he had been able.

All it did was break Ghost’s jaw though. Maybe that was his plan. To at least make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Soap had eventually told Samara who, thankfully, shot him. It had been one of the worst days of Soap’s life. She handed him his tags and asked the worst question ever.

“You loved him didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You never told him.”

“I didn’t.”

Samara smiled sadly at him. “I hope you find peace, Sergeant.” She walked away from him.

Soap wanted her to stay, but they weren’t friends. He knew she didn’t leave out of cruelty, just a belief that he wanted to be alone. So he broke down alone, looking at Simon’s body. He let out wails that would’ve killed banshees. Cried enough to drown himself.

Eventually, he found routine. One day, he’d kill all of these bastards and fix everything. Maybe it would be too late, but it was something. Revenge since he couldn’t protect Ghost.

Soap received the call telling him something was happening on the F4 quadrant, possibly something going on with the mercs. So he got dressed, grabbed a trusty gutter knife and a longbow, and set out.

He could’ve spent that entire morning guessing what’d he find. An eternity of guessing even.

This possibility would never cross his mind.

Ghost. Wandering around the wreckage of the Urzikstan.

Ghost was there. Or at least a man in his exa-

“Johnny?”

Nope. Definitely Ghost.

“Simon.” Soap said softly but his gun was already coming up. “Stay where you are. Have you been bitten?”

Ghost stared at him. Big beautiful brown eyes that almost made him want to melt. A year ago he would’ve. His gun would be on the floor and he’d be throwing himself at Ghost. But he had learned things in the past year.

“No.”

“You drank anything?”

“No. Johnny… How are you here? You’re dead.”

Soap frowned. “You’re dead.”

They stared at each other silently. “Price and Gaz are nearby.”

“Haven’t seen those guys in ages… We’ll head back. My gun is going to stay trained on you. Nothing…” Soap noticed Ghost’s gaze staring at his mouth before trailing back to his eyes again. “Nothing personal. I swear.”

“Your accent. Not as thick as I remember it being.”

“Been here a long time.” He moved slowly so Ghost was now in front of him and then he started walking forward. “Call your buddies.”

Ghost got on his radio. “Hey. Gonna need back up over here. When you see us, don’t shoot.”

Price and Gaz both answered affirmative.

Gaz saw Soap and froze, just staring. “Sergeant MacTavish.” Something about the tone.

“Captain. Captan MacTavish.” Soap smiled tightly. “Stay in front. I’ll walk you back to base.”

Price tightened his jaw but he walked forward with the rest of them.

The three of them were held at gunpoint by Soap the entire time until he got them into a metal room.

“Decontamination room. Get out of your gear and put it in the buckets over there. Jackets too. If you’re comfortable, I’d take those pants off too. Anything that’s touched the outside.”

Ghost kept staring at him and Soap kept staring back. The two acted like planets that were just orbiting around each other. Any moment, they’d crash and smash to bits.

Ghost only took off the bare minimum where Gaz and Price were just fine taking off more.

“The mask.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

Soap smiled a little. “Aye. Not asking you too. I have a replacement though. One that hasn’t been… out there.”

“Those things we saw. The people that weren’t people.”

“Zombies. Yes. They’re caused by something in what we call the aether. It’s complicated. I know the chemical compounds in bombs down to the atoms. I understand the physics of a bullet and I took calculus. Doesn’t mean I know shite about what’s out there. Barerra has explained all of it more times than I can count and I still don’t get it.” Soap shook his head. “Mercs think they’ve cracked it every other week and they usually end up making something worse.”

Gaz pulled on some of the spare, clean clothing they were given. “There’s something worse than those things?”

“Much worse. But we’ll get to that.”

Samara grabbed Gaz and Price to make sure they were showered of the radiation, but when she went to take Ghost, she actually stuttered in her movements. Her eyes were so large as she stared at him. “Lieutenant Riley.”

“Ma’am?” He sounded confused but he kept glancing at Soap.

“I’ll take care of him.” Soap muttered and she looked at him, her eyes giving a clear message. Don’t be stupid.

Whether she meant don’t fuck up this clear second chance or don’t be stupid because he looks like Ghost was remained to be seen.

Soap had Ghost stand and he sprayed him with the gas. It was some cocktail Barrera and Ravenov made that seemed to get rid of the lingering aether on people. Soap looked away as Ghost silently took his mask off before hand and quickly pulled on the replacement he had been given. It was a ski mask that gave Soap just a slightly better view of those eyes.

Those beautiful eyes.

Soap felt like he was going insane. This should be impossible. But so was… everything else. Zombies were walking the earth. Maybe the universe had decided Soap could have this one thing. Ghost.

Eventually they were allowed into the base. The three of them kept looking at Soap with this… lost expression. Grief and confusion and joy and something weirdly close to sorrow.

Gaz managed to drag Soap around for just a little while. He was talking to him as if they were old friends but he’d occasionally reference something or say some inside joke and it would go over Soap’s head. Not all of them. Some he smoothly responded to and it felt like his friend Kyle had been able to visit.

From what Soap had been told, Gaz was simply told he was on a covert mission. They exchanged letters, but Soap’s letters were analyzed and half the time so much was redacted he told them to forget it. He explained this to Gaz, who of course understood, but it did leave Soap feeling even more isolated after Ghost’s death.

Price was… well. Soap didn’t know. He assumed he simply got a new sergeant and moved on.

It was all so difficult. All of it. It drove him mad some times. But he was doing good so he marched forth.

Gaz eventually smiled at him. “I assume you want to be alone with Ghost, right? Where’s yours?”

Soap felt his stomach drop. “Dead and buried. Those things out there got them before we even understood them.

“I see. Me?”

“Alive. You were needed elsewhere when this project started and then you just weren’t given the choice. I keep hoping they’ll accept new people so I can put in a word for ya but sometimes… think it’s better you’re out there.”

Gaz frowned. “You were shot in ours. Makarov.”

“That guy huh? Damn shame.”

“Yeah. Sure is. But I’ll get you alone with Ghost. Think you could both use it. He took your death hard…” Gaz suddenly hesitated before just moving forward. “You two in love in this universe as well?”

Soap’s face falling must’ve been enough. “Did we ever…”

“No. Don’t know why. But it was obvious. Whatever is going on here, I don’t know how long it’ll last. I think it might be good for you though. Both of you.”

Soap nodded. “Thank you… Kyle.”

“No problem Soap. Sorry, Captain MacTavish.” The two words were thrown with so much mocking in them a weaker man would’ve flinched.

“Sorry for correcting you.”

“Good.” Gaz walked off and in an astonishingly short amount of time, Soap and Ghost were locked in a room.

They kept staring at each other before Soap turned and looked out one of the windows. “So…”

“So I’m dead here.”

“And I’m dead there.”

“How strange we’d end up here.” Ghost muttered. “Two halves missing a piece.”

“You think we’re two halves?”

“Nah. You’ve always been better than me. Never got a chance to tell you that.”

Soap wondered what Ghost meant by that. “You never told me. I guess I should say him. You never told him. Why?”

“He came to me that day. He grabbed my hands and I knew. I Knew.” Ghost closed his eyes. Soap felt like he had lost the last tether he had to Ghost’s emotional state until he kept talking and Soap could hear the actual anguish in his voice. “Knew you… he was going to confess. I grabbed his face and told him to can it. He said if we died, he didn’t want to die with the regret of never saying it. I told him I knew what he was going to say. That after this mission, once we both came back alive, I’d let him say it to me but he had to wait. I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want to go into that mission with his love hanging over me.”

“Regret it?”

“I found his sketchbook of me. Not of everyone else. Just me. There were tons of notes. He could never get my face right because he only saw it once.”

“He got to see it?” Soap straightened, suddenly so viscerally jealous as to make him sick.

Ghost looked surprised but he took his mask off. “Not pretty. I know. But if I am your guys copy the way you’re mine, this is wha-”

Soap kissed him. It was so stupid. So juvenile. But he needed it. He held Ghost’s face and he was pleasantly surprised by Ghost wrapping his arms tight around him. “Johnny…”

“Simon…” Soap kissed at every inch of bare skin. “Ye’r so hot. Cannae help ye hid this from me.”

“Fuck i missed you speaking nonsense.”

Soap bit him and Ghost laughed. Fucking laughed. It was musical.

“I love you. I know I’m not him.” Soap muttered. “But I love you so much.”

“Johnny. I’m not your man either.”

“I know. I know but I need to say. I was supposed to say it that night. You came to me and you told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back. I do. I did. I just… I didn’t expect it.” Soap started to sob. “And then you were gone. And some fucking zombie was in your place and I held on I swear I did but there was no bringing them back and I’m…” He sobbed into Ghost’s soft company issued shirt. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Ghost held him tighter. “I love you too Johnny. I love you too.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

135 notes · View notes

baahsu · 1 year

Text

Thinking about a vinsmoke siblings au where after judge mysteriously ends up at the bottom of the ocean sanji and reiju send 124-ji to the baratie so they can learn how to be more human (reiju will be keeping close tabs on them, obviously)

Zeff's surprised when he sees them at first and immediately goes "wtf there're three more eggplants??" but the three fit right in because you know, their main language is violence.

Obviously they're forced to tone it way down, zeff, patty and carne always hit them in the head or kick them while telling them to stay in line

Zeff sometimes writes to sanji to give him updates, it goes something like:

"The red eggplant seems to despise being around people, but he's good with numbers so he's taking care of our finances. He's saving us a lot of money and idk if it's because he's threatening our suppliers or if he's just that good at striking deals."

"The green eggplant seems to be mostly indifferent to people, but customers are scared of him and he's tried to pick fights with them because of it. He makes a good bouncer, though."

"The blue eggplant is the worse with people, but he showed a mild interest in cooking after walking around and claiming everything here is boring and stupid (I gave him another thump on the head for that btw). I let him into the kitchen under strict supervision, but so far he's only managed to destroy half of it in frustration. Patty and carne are keeping an even closer watch on him and the red eggplant made him pay for all of the repairs."

"Your sister steps by sometimes to see how the three are doing and it's always an event when she does. Patrons love her, her presence is definitely something, but she killed a guy the other day for looking at her wrong. It hurt business for a while. She apologized for it on her next visit, but I'm not sure if she really meant it."

And sanji stares at the letters and wonders if maybe he should've thrown his brothers to the bottom of the ocean too. But everything considered, it could've been way worse, 124-ji are doing better than expected and he's satisfied enough with it

[ I thought of this a while ago and actually wrote a fic for it too 😅 ]

#vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke brothers #sanji #red leg zeff #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke reiju #one piece #one piece headcanons #vinsmokes headcanons

392 notes · View notes

the0retically · 2 months

Text

Statement of Timothy Rand

I’m definitely not done with it (and still gotta go through and edit what I do have) but if people want to see the start of it here’s the beginning part of the tma/bitb crossover I was thinking about. The premise is Rand is giving a statement about the events that happened in Galloway, but he did lose his sanity so things are a little Funky for him. It’s written in transcript style so there’s lines for him and then stage directions for background noise and some movement, anywho ramble over lol if y’all want to read it’s below the cut!

Statement of Timothy Rand regarding his experience with The Hive in Galloway, Louisiana.

[Click of a tape recorder, can hear the whirring of the tape throughout the following. Otherwise it is a quiet room. There is a sigh from the person in the room.]

Rand: So just, talk into this thing? Ok, guess that’ll work…Fuck, man, how do I even start? Uh, I guess it started with my sister, Rachel. She was always the best of us. Shining star. You know she could’ve been something. Done something good? Man, I don’t know. She was kind though. A pain in my ass, but she had a kind heart. God knows if I was the one that went missing instead of her then maybe this all wouldn’t have happened. I mean, would anyone even notice a burnt out loser like me going missing? Probably not. If they did, they would’ve said “it was only a matter of time” or some bullshit like that. But no, Rachel went missing and I was the one that never left. At least that's what John kept saying. Maybe if Rachel was around she could’ve done something more to fix everything before it led to…well all that. But, can’t change what happened. Even though it was my fault that she never made it home, I should’ve been there for her, I should’ve—fuck.

[Sound of rustling, pulling out a cigarette, and a lighter flicks open to light it. Lighter and pack can be heard being stuffed back into his pocket and there’s the sound of a cigarette burning followed by some coughing before it eases. He takes a couple drags from the cigarette which can be heard throughout the following. The tape whirs on.]

Rand: My sister went missing and then things were never the same. John was at work all hours, Ma tried her best, she really did, but I certainly didn’t make it easy for her. Then Kian and Rolan left town. After graduation, they couldn’t stay or whatever. Fuck if I know. Kian had a plan to become a big time rockstar, travel the world, perform in big ole Hollywood. He was always larger than life like that. Talking about his big plans and dreams. Never really expected him to ever come back.

[Rand pauses, takes another drag from the cigarette. There is some static noise in the background that slowly grows, nothing distracting, but it’s definitely there. The tapes whirs on. The following is said quieter.]

Rand: Rolan fucked off to Chicago and became a hotshot lawyer…he didn’t come home for ten years. I never saw him until they both came back to town. Surprised they even agreed to it.

[Rand scoffs, clears his throat, and continues. The static is more present. The tape whirs on.]

#jrwi #jrwi bitb #Theo thoughts #tma #Timothy Rand #snuck in a little keeperschampion…couldn’t help it lol #I have more but this is a fun thing to just take time with and rework #gotta make sure I actually have Rand’s voice down too lol #jrwi fic #jrwi Rand #blood in the bayou #just roll with it #bitb #…..so nervous about posting this lol

26 notes · View notes

perseusannabeth · 9 months

Text

Chapter 8 - Cassian

A/N: Hi guys, long time no see!

I just want to thank everyone for all the lovely comments you left me during this really long break I took. I really appreciated them, even though I didn't respond. You guys were the reason I carried on writing.

After I posted the last chapter, my grandad got really ill, and he passed away at the beginning of this year, so I've been super absent because as you can imagine, taking care of my grandad, and then dealing with his sickness and then death took it out of me. I'm doing a lot better now though, but writing isn't coming to me as easily as it was before.

I felt like since I finally finished writing and editing this chapter, everyone deserved it, but I have no idea when the next chapter will be. I promise I'm still writing this fic, I'm just taking a long time to write the chapters.

With that being said, please remember that this fic is angsty. There are no trigger warnings I can think of for this chapter, but if people think of any that need to be added, please let me know!

Word count: 7282

LMBYH Masterlist | My Masterlist | My Ask Box | Read on AO3

Cassian had never been the kind of man to live in excess. He enjoyed his wine and whiskey as much as the next person, but he rarely got drunk. Frankly, he found the effects on his health the morning after far too much for a man of his age. This night, however, was making Cassian wish he could work his way up to a drunken stupor because the after-effects of that would be more enjoyable than this night.

It hadn’t all been bad though. He had felt fairly good at the beginning of the ball and eventually had felt a level of joy he hadn’t known was possible when he had danced with his wife. The dance had given him hope that perhaps they could grow to have a more ‘normal’ relationship as husband and wife one day. One where they could grow to care for one another, and where they could depend on each other. They could become a husband and wife partnership that his parents had never had. Cassian had felt the chemistry with his wife, and he had wanted more. But hope was for fools, and he was the biggest fool of them all.

Nesta had seemed to be enjoying herself, talking to old Devlon. He hadn’t even known they were friends, but that made Kallon’s outburst at their wedding even worse. Then she was sat by her sister, and Feyre seemed so happy to spend time with Nesta. He somehow managed to lose sight of his wife, he thought she was safe with Feyre. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was following her, he had stayed close by if she needed him. He didn’t want to smother her.

It had come as a shock to him when Adelaide told him his wife was not feeling well, and he looked around to notice she wasn’t in the main hall like he thought. When he had tried to find Nesta, he had managed to get cornered by Ianthe, which he should’ve known would happen. Then of course, he was careless and Nesta saw them together, and as he tried to chase his wife and explain what she had seen, only for her to bump into Philp Mandray of all people. It was like a nightmare, only worse because Cassian knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was real. He wished he knew what he had done to deserve this.

The events of the night felt like they were catching up with him, and his head certainly felt like it was spinning. He wished he could just go to sleep and forget any of this had happened, but he couldn’t. Cassian wasn’t sure how long he stood there, looking at Philip and Nesta before he managed to shake himself out of his daze. Seeing Philip was a shock to the system. He knew that Philip would not be welcome at Helion’s house. Helion had his own issues with Philip Mandray way before the issue of Cassian marrying Nesta had happened.

“Nesta, are you alright?” Cassian asked loudly, reminding both Philip and Nesta of his presence. Nesta flinched at the sound of his voice. Cassian felt like a knife had pierced his chest at the sight of his wife, practically in another man’s arms, flinching at the sound of his voice hurt him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s fine, she’s always been very clumsy,” Philip responded, his voice grating on Cassian’s nerves as he spoke, a smirk on his face. Cassian’s hands were balled up, wishing he could throw a punch, but he couldn’t let his anger get the better of him like it did at his wedding. He needed to make sure Nesta was okay.

“I wasn’t aware that you had changed your name Mandray. Last time I checked, Nesta was my wife’s name. Care to explain why you decided to respond on her behalf?”

Philip’s face was instantly flooded with red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which brought Cassian great joy. Cassian hadn’t given a shit about Philip Mandray before, not until he had stopped Cassian from meeting Nesta before their wedding. Still, Cassian couldn’t bring himself to feel even the smallest ounce of guilt when it came to embarrassing Philip.

“Nesta, sweetheart, are you okay?” Cassian asked softly as he stepped forward. He slowly walked towards his wife, putting himself between her and Philip.

It seemed like that had been the right move, because Cassian coming into her line of sight seemed to snap her out of the state of shock she had gone into, and she didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice when she was looking at him. Cassian started to move his hand slowly to help her up, not wanting any sudden movements to startle his already terrified wife, but she didn’t even wait for his hand to become fully outstretched before she grabbed his arm so tightly Cassian wondered if she would leave marks. His wife was delicate and didn’t look like she would have the strength to do so, but she might prove him wrong.

She gripped him like she was afraid to let go, so Cassian brought her close by his side. Although he and his wife were not ones for public displays of affection, or any affection, Cassian felt that with Philip around, a united front was needed.

“I wasn’t aware that you were invited to Helion’s party Mr Mandray,” Cassian said, in the hope of reminding the man that he was risking making a huge scene if the hosts discovered he was here uninvited. A man like Philip put a lot of thought into his appearance, and sometimes needed reminding that he was not as untouchable as he thought.

“I was not, but I’m sure that I could’ve gotten an invite if I wanted. Anything can be bought for a price, after all,” Philip said, responding to Cassian but not taking his eyes off Nesta, who had buried her face in his chest. Cassian was trying not to focus on the fact this was the most physical contact they’d had since the wedding night.

“Well, an invitation to this party cannot be bought. I suggest you leave before you end up embarrassing yourself by having to be removed forcibly. I’m sure the guests would enjoy the entertainment though, if you feel like putting on a show,” Cassian said, smirking at him.

“There’s no need for the threats. That’s not the kind of behaviour I would expect from a Duke,” Philip said, tutting and shaking his head in fake disappointment.

“Ah yes but you forget, I’m not just simply a Duke. I was also in Her Majesty’s army. This is a tame reaction for a soldier,” Cassian said sternly. He didn’t remind people of his history very often, but Philip Mandray needed to be reminded that he was a threat.

Unfortunately for Cassian, it seemed that Philip didn’t give a shit. “What good is a soldier who has no experience in a war? We have been at peace for so long that your title is just for show.”

“I don’t need to justify my service to the likes of you. The Queen is aware of what I did for my country,” Cassian said, wishing he was able to say more.

Thankfully, Nesta tightened her grip on Cassian’s arm, reminding him she was in desperate need to get out of there. Although they hadn’t spoken about him very much, Cassian was very aware of how terrified she was of Phillip. He simply decided to ignore Philip’s existence (as much as it pained him) and focus on his clearly terrified wife.

“Do you remember what I said before we came? About how if you want to go home, you just need to say the word?” He asked quietly, so only Nesta could hear. Philip watched them with great curiosity, but Cassian ignored him.

Nesta had been shaking in his arms before, but now she was still. Cassian knew she remembered what he had said, but she didn’t say a word. He didn’t know why he was forcing Nesta to tell him she was uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but he felt like it was important for her to say this.

He waited for a response, before deciding that perhaps it was best to ease her into these things. He knew she wouldn't have been allowed to voice her opinion while married to Tomas.

“Nesta, I need an answer. Do you want to go home?”

Nesta was so still in his arms that he wasn’t sure she had heard him. He was about to repeat himself when she nodded, her face still buried in his chest, but it was enough of a step for Cassian. He knew that telling him she wanted to go home had not been easy for her.

He didn’t bother glancing at Philip, who was glaring at him with such hatred that Cassian wished he could punch him. It seemed unfair that he had punched Kallon at the wedding, but had never once laid hands on Philip, despite him being far worse in some respects.

Still, he had someone else to think about now. He couldn’t let his emotions rule him, not when he had Nesta to worry about. He led Nesta into Helion’s study, knowing the guards would be standing around. As lax as Helion could be, he would never give someone the opportunity to slip into his study when nobody was paying attention. He’d learnt the hard way that he always had to be prepared.

Thankfully, the guards knew Cassian well enough to allow him into the study. He guided Nesta onto one of the many armchairs placed around the room, before going to the guard at the door, asking him to find someone to bring his carriage around to the side entrance. With the state Nesta was in, he didn’t want the partygoers to talk about her more than they already were.

A servant was called and asked to relay a message to Helion and Adelaide that the two of them would be leaving now. They would pass the message on to Nesta’s sisters and the rest of their friends so nobody would worry. He would have to explain what happened later on, once he had made sure Nesta was okay. He knew he had some explaining to do to his wife first, but seeing Philip had clearly scared her. He needed to make sure she was okay before talking to her about anything else that had happened during the evening. He didn’t want to add to her stress and worsen her condition, because she looked incredibly unwell right now.

Cassian was tempted to send a rider to go get the doctor so that they would arrive home at the same time as the doctor and he would be able to check Nesta over. Thankfully, the rational part of Cassian’s mind reminded him that his wife wasn’t even comfortable around him, so there was no way she would remain calm when a doctor tried to do an examination.

Since she had been seated in the armchair, Nesta had gone still. Before, when she had been in his arms, she had been shaking uncontrollably; whether this was due to her fear or shock, Cassian was unsure. Now, she was not reacting to anything. He had called her name a few times, moving in front of her hoping to snap her out of her trance, but there was nothing, not even a trace of recognition. He didn’t want to risk touching her in case she reacted badly. She seemed to shy away from him at the best of times.

Thankfully, the carriage pulled around the French doors, probably ruining Helion’s perfectly manicured lawn, but Cassian didn’t give a shit if he was perfectly honest. He knew that Helion and Adelaide wouldn’t care either.

“Nesta, the carriage is here. Let’s get you home now,” Cassian said gently as he kneeled down in front of her, slowly putting his hand on Nesta’s. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to bring Nesta back into the present, although she seemed disorientated.

Cassian guided her into the carriage by her hand, similar to how you would take a child by the hand to guide them. Cassian joined her in the carriage, trying to give her as much space as possible in a carriage.

Not knowing what to say, Cassian decided to stay silent. His silence allowed him to get lost in his own thoughts, which mostly consisted of him thinking how nice the calm before the storm had been. His mind kept going back to how beautiful Nesta had looked while dancing in his arms. He had never seen his wife radiate such joy, and he wished he could go back to that. Instead, it had all gone to hell as soon as she left his arms, or so it felt like. There had been chaos after, and Cassian couldn’t understand what happened. Only, that was a lie. He hadn’t been careful. He had let his guard down in his joy of being out with his wife.

He was pulled out of his melancholy thoughts by the sound of Nesta gasping for breath. It seemed like she had come out of the trance, and now the panic in her eyes told Cassian she was hyperventilating.

“Nesta, it’s okay, you’re safe. Please, just breathe,” Cassian said, scrambling closer to her. His movements made her flinch away from him, so he stilled and sat as still as he possibly could in a moving carriage.

His words were no help to her, Nesta’s mind was already riddled with panic, and her breathing was getting shallower and louder. Cassian knew she needed fresh air, but stopping their carriages on the mostly deserted roads was not safe either, so he made a decision, which was most definitely a stupid decision.

He moved to the door of the carriage while he shucked off his overcoat, wrapping it around his hand clumsily, and then punched the glass. It shattered instantly, causing Nesta’s strangled-sounding breaths to stop. He ignored the pain in his hand and cleaned all the glass near Nesta so she wouldn’t get hurt.

Once her path to the broken window was as safe as he could make it, he moved back to the other side of the carriage. “You needed fresh air to help make you feel better. Please mind the glass,” Cassian said, nodding at the window.

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again after no words came out. She took some time, but eventually, she moved towards the broken window and closed her eyes. The gentle breeze moved the strands of hair that had come out of her coronet, and Cassian could almost fool himself into pretending she looked calm.

For the rest of the carriage ride, Nesta closed her eyes and focused on her breathing while Cassian watched her cautiously from the other side of the carriage. She didn’t seem to be calming down, not that he could tell anyway, but she was certainly getting control of herself again. Cassian wished he knew what that meant though. Was it calming enough? Did that mean she felt better, or just better enough to hide her emotions from Cassian? He assumed it was the latter, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he knew his wife better. How could they live together if they didn’t know each other? Every time he tried opening up to her, he was met with a cold hard wall. He knew she didn’t want to share things about her previous marriage, and he assumed none of it could be good, but he knew nothing.

A normal married couple would know things like each other’s likes and dislikes, and what made them happy or sad. A normal husband would know how to comfort his wife when she was in the state Nesta was in. But Cassian was no normal husband. How could he be, when Nesta was no normal wife? He didn’t need a normal relationship, and he had known that their marriage would be normal, but he didn’t imagine feeling so helpless. He had assumed that taking Nesta away from the Mandray house would free her. He didn’t realise the impact the years had on her until he started living with her.

When the carriage stopped outside of their house, Cassian felt relief. He knew that, here at least, Nesta was safe and comfortable. He had control of the environment, the situation and the people now, so he might be able to be more useful to Nesta. At the very least, he could do things to distract himself from the helplessness while his wife fought the demons in her mind.

He jumped out of the carriage, holding the door open for Nesta so she didn’t touch the broken glass. She stepped out gingerly, looking so weak that Cassian fought the urge not to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to bed.

Hill was waiting at the door, watching pensively as they came in. She knew Cassian well enough to know when something was wrong, and nobody could look at Nesta and assume she was okay.

“What do you need me to do?” Hill asked, ready to jump into action as per usual.

“I need some tea if you don’t mind,” Cassian said. Hill didn’t say anything, just rushing off towards the kitchen.

He guided Nesta to their bedroom, trying his best not to come too close to her. She seemed to be walking in a trance, the part of her brain that knew her routine just took over as she walked to their rooms. Nesta walked in and took a step towards the dressing room before Cassian gently told her to sit down.

She froze, and Cassian was sure that she had forgotten he was even there. “If you would just take a seat for a few moments, Hill will be here soon. I would feel much better if you drank some tea to calm your nerves before attempting to sleep.”

He knew saying he wanted Nesta to drink the tea was a low blow, she would see it as a direct order from him, but right now he didn’t care. If she was only willing to sit and drink the damned tea because he told her to, he would order her gladly. He needed to do something, anything to make himself feel better.

Nesta sat down, as he requested, on his mother’s armchair, which pleased Cassian, and he couldn’t quite say why. Either way, seeing his wife sitting in his mother’s favourite chair was a nice feeling. It calmed his nerves ever so slightly.

“Your hand,” Nesta murmured, as Cassian sat down on one of the other chairs.

“Pardon?” Cassian asked. She had spoken so quietly that he wasn’t sure he had heard her properly.

“Your hand, you hurt it,” Nesta said, looking at his injury.

Cassian followed her gaze to his hand, and to his surprise, it was bleeding. It looked rather gruesome, and as though it should hurt, and yet Cassian hadn’t even noticed it. He had assumed his clumsily wrapped overcoat would do the job, but in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about it very much. He had been far too distracted to realise he had hurt himself, and Nesta was clearly confused about how he didn’t notice it himself.

“It isn’t bothering me, my lady, there’s no need to worry,” Cassian said, trying to soothe her worries while covering his hand with his other hand.

Nesta’s frown deepened. She leaned closer toward him and gently pulled his bleeding hand closer to her for inspection. Cassian went still, holding his breath so that any movement didn’t stop his wife from voluntarily holding his hand. Of course, the circumstances weren’t great, but she had willingly held his hand! He certainly wasn’t feeling any pain now that his wife was holding his hand in hers so gently.

As a man, society dictated that Cassian didn’t need people to be gentle with him. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him, he had simply accepted it was how life was and moved on. Nesta held his hand gently while she inspected it was the first time someone had been this soft since his mother had died. He hadn’t even realised he missed it. He had assumed when he thought about his mother and it hurt, he was missing her. He didn’t realise he was also missing the kind of love and affection that a man only ever receives from his mother.

It was strange how such a simple act of the slightest affection could make him feel that way. But it was also strange that Nesta seemed to find his injury grounding. When Hill walked into their rooms, he thought she would startle since she was very engrossed with his hand. Instead, Nesta looked up when she noticed Hill put the tea down next to her, and then listed the supplies for the things she needed.

Hill looked as surprised as he felt, but she quickly gathered all the supplies. “Do you need any help with anything? I can clean Cassian’s hand while you… Drink your tea,” Hill said, looking at Nesta with her eyebrows raised.

Nesta didn’t respond; she instead went still. “It’s quite alright, Hill. I think my wife can handle it. You can retire for the night now. We’ve taken up enough of your time,” Cassian said with a smile. He gave Hill a meaningful stare, wanting her to get out. If his wife was comfortable dealing with his bloodied hand, then he certainly would not pass the opportunity up.

Hill left with a small shake of her head, likely knowing exactly what Cassian was thinking. Then again, Hill most likely thought there would be more going on tonight than just Nesta dealing with his injury.

Nesta worked in silence, but it was clear from her actions that she was an expert at cleaning wounds. She picked out the glass pieces and put them into a cloth. Thankfully, There were only two fairly small glass pieces and they had not dug into anything important. It seemed that most of the damage had been done when he had punched the glass window, which was to be expected with his poorly wrapped hand. Perhaps he should not have moved quite so hastily, but he was far too worried about Nesta to care.

Once Nesta was sure his hand was clear of glass, she dipped another cloth into the bowl of water that Hill had provided, and gently cleaned his hand. Once the hand was clean and Nesta could inspect the wounds properly, she assessed that the cuts were not bad enough to warrant stitches. Cassian was glad to hear that news because although he was able to grit his teeth through the pain, he shuddered at the sight of a needle ready to sew his skin together. He could stomach it, but barely, and would rather drink some poppy syrup. He didn’t really want his wife to see him in that kind of state.

Nesta wrapped his hand gently, smoothing down the bandages as though she was caressing his hand. He wished he could feel her caress on his skin. His longing was interrupted by Nesta.

“You’ll need to keep it clean and change the bandage too. I do feel that we should perhaps get it checked over just in case the cut is deeper than it seems, or worse still if any glass remains.” Nesta said, looking at him with concern.

“I think perhaps it is too late to call on the doctor without it being an emergency, but I promise that I will get it checked tomorrow.”

Nesta nodded and then moved away from him to sit back in her chair properly. She slumped down, as though the toll of the day was physically weighing her down. They sat there in silence for a while, Nesta staring into the distance, Cassian watching her subtly.

Eventually, Nesta stood up. “It’s late, and I think I’ll get ready for bed, if that’s alright with you, your Grace?”

Cassian ignored the way she still asked for his permission. He didn’t have the energy to fight that particular battle right now, not after the night they’d had. He simply nodded and watched as she quickly scurried away into her dressing rooms.

\\\///

Cassian had hoped that his fitful night’s sleep would fix everything, but he had known deep down that he was being foolish. When he woke the next morning and looked at his wife’s tired face, he knew that the previous night’s events had taken its toll on both of them more than he had hoped. He felt like he was fumbling and had no idea how he could fix this mess.

Nesta seemed intent on carrying on with her day as though everything was normal. She went to her refuge, the library, even though she looked ready to drop. She asked for her breakfast to be taken to the library. Claude was thrilled, saying that it was a sign that she was feeling more comfortable making more demands. Cassian wasn’t so sure but didn’t want to say anything to make things worse. Plus, if he made Claude sad, the whole household would feel the effects of a sad Claude, and that was truly something to fear.

Cassian worried about his wife. Her resilience was something he admired greatly, but he wished she didn’t need to be this way. He wished he knew how to talk to and comfort her, especially after seeing the fear in her eyes when she was with Philip. He didn’t want to be a traditional, stern husband who barely spoke to his wife. He wanted his wife to rely on him, to be able to talk to him and tell him how she feels and what she thinks.

Nesta seemed perpetually terrified of everything, and he sometimes felt like she was probably afraid of her own shadow. The way she had looked at Philip was different though. Something had happened to make her scared of him. The problem was Nesta was not likely to confide in Cassian about these things, and unless she did so, he couldn’t reassure her that nothing like that happened to her again. But for her to believe that she would have to trust him, and Cassian knew she didn’t. He didn’t blame her, but it hurt a little.

Cassian tried his best to leave Nesta to her own devices, but it was no use. His mind was constantly occupied by worries for her, wondering if she was okay, and a week after the party he was close to his breaking point. He had to ask Jacob to repeat himself on multiple occasions, but Cassian was just thankful that Jacob hadn’t commented on his lack of focus.

When Jacob had suggested that perhaps the problem with the tenants could wait until tomorrow, Cassian had felt grateful that he was being given an out. It was too soon after the chaos of yesterday for him to be able to carry on as normal. His tenants would survive one day without him.

Cassian didn’t instantly want to go running to the library to see what Nesta was doing, worried that she would find him smothering. It was difficult for him because all Cassian wanted to do was check on his wife, spend time with her and get to know her. The fear of alienating his wife was the only thing that made him go see Claude in the kitchens instead.

“Cassian, what are you doing here? Surely you know better than to come into Claude’s territory unannounced!” Matthew said.

Cassian smiled at the young man, who, braver than most in his household, had volunteered when Claude had needed an assistant in the kitchens. Even Hill had shuddered at the thought of working in the kitchens with Claude.

Matthew was either very brave or very stupid, and Cassian truly could not tell which one it was. He had volunteered to work with Claude, which was a first. Even Claude had been shocked since the cook was nothing if not self-aware of his tyranny in the kitchen.

“I promise not to touch anything. I was just wanting some company,” Cassian said, holding his hands up in surrender.

Now it was Matthew’s turn to laugh. “And I suppose you seeking Claude out has nothing to do with how he sits with your wife. Your wife is quiet, but Claude manages to bring out the chatty side of her.”

Cassian had no clever response for that. He knew he had been caught. He smiled bashfully, and just shrugged, looking for Claude so he could talk to him. Matthew, knowing how these things work by now, simply informed him that Claude was outside and left them to it.

Cassian walked outside to see Claude in his garden patch. Claude was a big believer that if you could do it yourself, you should, and so he grew many fruits and vegetables himself. It was yet another reason why Claude was one of the best chefs in Velaris.

“Let me guess, you need my help to woo your wife,” Claude said, not looking up from his thorough inspection of his carrots.

Cassian spluttered, trying to come up with a way to sound less pathetic, but there was no way to achieve that. In the end, he gave up, took a deep breath and said, “I think I messed up.”

That made Claude look up in an instant, and a heart-stopping glare came his way. “What on earth have you done now? I should’ve known not to trust you with her alone. You’re such a brute. You have no idea how to treat a real lady,” Claude huffed in annoyance.

“Honestly Claude, if you can tell me what I did and tell you how to fix it, I’ll owe you forever,” Cassian said, running his hands through his hair. That made Claude pause. He knew Cassian well enough to know when things were serious.

“Tell me everything that happened.”

“It was all going really well, we danced, and she was smiling so much. I’ve not seen her that happy before. I could finally see some real emotions from her, not the ones she wears as a mask.” he sighed, thinking back to how radiant Nesta had seemed in the ballroom. It had been a moment where Cassian believed they could be happy together. They would work through whatever demons Nesta was fighting, and they would be able to be happy.

“It’s probably my fault things went wrong. I was talking to the others, and Nesta got up. I don’t know where she went or who she spoke to. You know how mercenary those women can be. I should’ve prepared her better. We all should’ve. But then Adelaide told me Nesta was in distress and she needed me. I went to the room I thought she was in and Ianthe told me-”

“Ianthe? What did that snake want?” Claude spat. Ianthe was not popular with his friends and family, especially considering how she had tried to integrate herself into their group. Cassian decided it would be best to keep the details of their interaction to a bare minimum, or his life might end up in danger.

“The usual, but that’s not the worst of it Claude. Nesta ran into Philip Mandray,” Cassian revealed.

“Fuck!” Claude exclaimed.

“My thoughts exactly. I have no idea what he said to her, Claude. They couldn't have been alone for more than two minutes before I got there, but it was enough for him to say something that troubled her. The colour had all drained away from her face, and I was worried she was about to faint. She looked so unwell.”

“Did you talk to her about it?”

“At the time I was too focused on getting her home, it had all clearly been too overwhelming for her and then seeing Philip was just too much for her.”

“And what about since then? The next day did you try?”

“Claude, I know you don’t believe me when I say this, but I swear, I’m not actually an idiot. I’ve tried to broach the subject so many times, but she either leaves the room or changes the subject. Last night she even pretended to have fallen asleep, even though I could see her peeking to see if I had gone to sleep! I don’t know what else I can do.”

Claude’s angry expression melted away to sadness. “I’m not sure what I can suggest either, Cassian. I know she talks to me, but that doesn’t mean she’s open with me. In fact, she’s only ever talkative when asking me questions about my cooking. If I try to bring up other subjects she’s the same as when she talks to anyone else.”

“I don’t know what to do, Claude. At this point, I don’t even need her to open up to me. If she’s happier with me not knowing, that’s fine, but the problem is, Nesta won’t talk to anyone about what happened to her while married to Tomas. She won’t open up to her sisters, and she doesn’t seem to have any friends. It’s not healthy! The only thing that’s keeping me sane is that she seems to be happy in the library. I try to stay out of there as much as I can because it now feels like I’m encroaching on her safe space, but I worry about her being alone all the time.”

The two let the silence stretch on them until Matthew came out. “My goddess, it's miserable out here. What happened, did you two argue again?”

“No, we’re just worried about Nesta,” Claude said.

“Why?”

“She doesn’t talk to anyone and we’re worried that bottling things up is making her ill,” Claude explained.

“Well, has anyone else talked to her about their own struggles?” Matthew asked.

“What do you mean?” Cassian asked with a frown.

“Well, we all know what the Mandray house is rumoured to be like, so I understand your concern. The duchess does not act in a way that could be considered normal, but I’m sure she’s aware of that herself. Everyone who tries to get her to open up is doing so out of concern, but they don’t understand her. I don’t want to step out of line here, but is there anyone who she could relate to? Someone who’s been in a similar situation so she can see she’s not alone?” Matthew spoke as Claude and Cassian looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Why, Matthew, you’re a genius!” Claude leapt up and hugged the man, startling Matthew. “Of course, she isn’t going to feel comfortable talking to us!”

“You’re right, but who could she possibly feel comfortable with?” Cassian asked, unwilling to let himself get excited about something when he had no idea how to carry out the admittedly good idea.

At that moment, a boy called out for Cassian, and it was like he had been sent from someone up above as an answer to their question.

“I’m really sorry, Mr Duke sir, but me and my sister were playin’ out by the front with a ball, and I think we broke a window, sir. It was my fault, sir, I’m terribly sorry,” the boy said, trembling in front of him, but making eye contact nevertheless. Cassian would guess the boy was no older than 6 or 7 years old.

Claude let out a chuckle, startling the boy. “No need to worry about Cassian when it comes to broken windows Arthur. Cassian has probably broken every window in this place at some point or another.”

The boy, Arthur, looked from Claude to Cassian cautiously. “Why don’t you take me to where you were playing and show me what happened?” Cassian asked, gesturing to the boy to lead the way. It looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but clearly, Arthur felt like he had no choice.

“Of course, sir,” he said, resigned to his fate clearly.

“So, your mother is Eleanor, correct?” Cassian questioned, having finally been able to place the boy.

“Yes, sir, I’m the eldest. I have a little sister, Jane. She’s the one I was playing with, but it was all my fault, sir,” the boy sounded panicked, clearly worried his sister would get into trouble.

“It’s quite alright, Arthur. I know it’s hard to believe this, but I truly was a scoundrel when I was young. My mother used to despair when I played with my friends. Accidents happen, I’m just glad nobody was hurt.” The boy remained quiet, so Cassian attempted to change the subject. “Do you like living here?” He asked, not sure what other types of small talk he could make.

“Yes sir, I’m ever so grateful you took us in and allowed my mother to work for you. I ask you not to punish my mother or sister for something I did. I’ll take any punishment you give, sir.”

At that, Cassian frowned. “I won’t punish you, your mother or your sister for this, Arthur. It was an accident, and I believe you.” Cassian stopped in the middle of the path leading them to the front of the house. They were almost there, but Cassian felt he needed to clear things up with the boy. “I will never raise my hand against any of you. If anyone ever dares to do so, then you come to me or Jacob. Even if you have to disturb us, it is our duty to make sure people are safe.”

“I’m the man of the house. My job is to look after my mother and sister,” Arthur said, puffing his chest out to show Cassian importance.

“That’s a very big responsibility for someone so small, but I have no doubt in my mind that you do the job well,” Cassian said with a smile.

The boy’s shoulders slumped at that. “I only look small. I’m actually 10 years old!” The boy said frustratedly.

Cassian was shocked at that. The boy didn’t look big enough for 10. He was all skin and bones, but Cassian remembered how Eleanor had looked when she had first arrived here. The look of hunger was not something that went away easily. Eleanor had admitted to Cassian that she had run away from her husband, and she was worried about him finding them and wanting retribution, but she had never gone into any further detail. Cassian hadn’t needed details from her when he had seen how hungry she looked. In all honesty, the marks she bore were enough for him to know that Eleanor needed his help. The fact that she had come to enquire about a job in the stables despite not knowing anything about horses was also a testament to how desperate she was for money.

It had been lucky that Cassian had been thinking about the way he probably needed a lady’s maid, as he had recently agreed to marry Nesta. He knew Eleanor would be perfect for the role, so he took her and her children in with no questions.

He had seen the children around, and they seemed happy, but he didn’t realise how much the children had suffered at their father’s hand. It shocked him that a man could treat his own flesh and blood so poorly, but then again, if a man hit his wife, what morals could he claim to have?

“I know you are a brave young man, Arthur, and I’m sure you protect your mother and sister very well. Sometimes being young can help in these matters,” Cassian told the boy, who was frowning, studying Cassian.

“How?”

“Well, someone like my wife might feel more at ease around you compared to a grown man,” Cassian said, probing to see if the boy would take the bait.

“Your wife?” The boy asked curiously. “Is that the lady who is in the library?”

“Yes! You see, I wish there was a young man like you to keep an eye on her. That way, I’d know she’s safe without making her feel uncomfortable.” Cassian hesitated, wondering how much he should tell the boy. “You see, the man she was married to before was not very nice, and neither was his older brother. He was like your father, actually.”

At the mention of his father, Arthur looked angry. “I’ll make sure she’s safe from them all!” He declared angrily.

Cassan ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “I think she would appreciate some company in the library, especially with all those big heavy books. Perhaps when you have some spare time, you can help her?”

“Yes, of course!”

There was some commotion in the distance, reminding both of them of the broken window situation. “Oh, we’d best hurry to that window!”

They both rushed off and saw a little girl who Cassian assumed was Arthur’s sister Jane. Eleanor and Jacob had also turned up and were trying to comfort the little girl who was beside herself. The commotion had clearly attracted Nesta’s attention, as she hovered at the end of the path to her library, but she came no closer. She instead watched Cassian, probably to see what he would do. Cassian looked up at the window to see Hill already cleaning up the glass that had fallen inside.

“Is that all?” Cassian asked as he looked at the damage.

“Yes sir,” Arthur replied.

Cassian let out a laugh. “I had assumed it would be so much worse. That is only a small crack. I was assuming I would have to replace the whole window and the pane, the way you described it to me.”

“I can arrange for it to be fixed by tomorrow, Cassian, but in the meanwhile, Hill said she’d board up the hole. Is that alright?” Jacob asked. Cassian nodded.

“See, Janie, I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Arthur said, acting like he hadn’t been scared out of his mind to tell Cassian. Cassian decided to let the boy have this victory, though, as it stopped the little girl from crying.

As Arthur went over to comfort his sister, Eleanor came over to Cassian. “My lord, I can’t thank you enough. I will work unpaid until you have covered the costs of your window replacement,” she said in her quiet, gentle voice.

“Eleanor, I’m not going to do that. But you don’t have to worry about it anyway. Arthur has taken care of it all.” Eleanor looked at him curiously but said nothing, so Cassian elaborated. “He’s going to spend some time with Nesta, keep an eye on her, and keep her company. I’m worried about her, but your son has a good head on his shoulders, and I trust him.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Eleanor said, smiling as she watched her children talking animatedly to Jacob, trying to explain how the window broke. Jacob was in good humour and went along with their dramatics.

Cassian was well aware of his wife watching them from a distance, but he felt no need to try and rope her into this conversation. He was content that, finally, he might be able to bring her out of whatever she was going through. Watching the children, so innocent and full of joy, gave him hope. Their resilience reminded him that people could always come back from sadness, but sometimes they needed a little help.

Tags list, please let me know if you would like to be added, removed or your username needs updating!

@sannelovesreading @bookstantrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @sayosdreams@letstakethedawn @and-she-burns-with-it @nahthanks @arinbelle @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @claralady @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @tswaney17 @duskandstarlight @the-regal-warrior @live-the-fangirl-life @oversizedbats @nestaisgod @vidalinav @vanserrass @moodymelanist @emily-gsh @lady-winter-sunrise @dread3r @starryblueskies7 @simpingfornestaarcheron @mis-lil-red @catplayinvioline @vinylcryes @vasudharaghavan @a-court-of-valkyries @nestaspegasus @sv0430 @champanheandluxxury @nesquick-arccheron @a-little-disguised @nestable @illyrianshadowhunter @readiajin @lordof-bloodshed @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @rachmkerch123456

#acotar #nessian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #fics #lmbyh

100 notes · View notes

navnae · 1 year

Text

Steddie Soulmate Au Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Prompt: a clock counts down until you meet your soulmate

Prompt from @phantypurple !!! ❤️

Additional tags: @mightbeasleep @lifealwayslearning @rhaenyyras @im-sam-fucking-winchester @gregre369 @fruitandbubbles @beckkthewreck @cherixxx69 @iwouldsail (I hope it’s okay that I tagged y’all 😖)

Read on AO3

“Sure!” Steve said excitedly with a huge smile on his face. In another universe Eddie never would’ve thought of asking Steve for any kind of help especially when it came to anything that involved romance. Then again everything that’s happened in Eddie’s life so far hasn’t been normal in the slightest so he’ll take this over the past events that’s happened so far.

Eddie started smiling wide when heard what Steve had said. He didn’t expect him to have such a positive reaction to what he was asking for. Eddie reached his arm out to give Steve a pat on his shoulder making him shiver slightly, for a split second Eddie saw Steve’s smile fade a little before it returned to the big bright one that he had on his face previously. Eddie smiled softly at him then looked over to where Robin was standing, she was talking to Dustin and Max about something and Eddie thought she looked so pretty when she waved her hands around when we talked about something, the way her eyes lit up when she was excited, he couldn’t put it into words but she drew him in like a moth to a flame. He didn’t realize he was staring until Steve cleared his throat rather aggressively making Eddie snap out of his thoughts. He looked at Steve who was now standing with his arms crossed and he looked annoyed, the smile from before was completely gone now.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer, Munson.” Steve said bitterly as he rolled his eyes. The change in Steve’s attitude caught Eddie off guard. He genuinely looked pissed but Eddie couldn’t put a finger on what could’ve ticked him off in the middle of their conversation. He brushed it off since it was common for Steve get bitchy for no reason, he had several of those moments at school. So Eddie didn’t pay it any mind.

“My bad it’s just… she’s breathtaking. I kind of feel stupid for not realizing that.” Eddie admitted. He should’ve paid more attention to her throughout their school years together.

“I think stupid would be putting it lightly.” Steve mumbled under his breath. Obviously that wasn’t something Eddie was supposed to hear but he heard it anyways. He furrowed his brows as he looked at Steve, the guy was just fuming at this point.

“What did you say?” Eddie asked with a little bass in his voice. The only reason he was getting mad was because Steve started getting snappy out of no where. Steve kept his arms crossed and shook his head.

“Nothing.“ Steve said waving his hand to dismiss the topic. As much as Eddie wanted to slap that attitude out of Steve he couldn’t, that wouldn’t make him look good in front of Robin so he just bit his tongue. Eddie also had to realize that he’d have to deal with Steve for a little bit just so could make his move on Robin, for now he’ll be nice until otherwise. He smiled brightly at Steve hoping that they could be somewhat friendly towards each other.

Before Eddie could say anything the sound of police cars got everybody’s attention making them turn towards the window that was the back of the boathouse. While the four of them ran to the window Eddie scurried towards the boat that he was laying in for majority of the time he stayed there. Once he got into the boat he threw the tarp over himself and he laid there. So many thoughts ran through his head as he tried to make himself comfortable in the boat, now he had to keep in mind that what was happening outside of this building was attached to him. Eddie couldn’t handle the idea that the reason why everyone in Hawkins was going insane because they believed that there was a murderer running around and all of their fingers pointed to him. In some way, Eddie focusing on Robin made it easier to forget about the chaos that had occurred and that kind of made him want to keep fighting even if there’s a possibility that he may not win in the end. When all of this was over he thought about telling her that she was the light that guided him through the darkness and he imagined both of them laughing at how cheesy that sounded but nonetheless it was true. Even with that in his mind, something kept nagging him.

Eddie truly couldn’t live that dream unless Steve kept his word which Eddie had his doubts about. Maybe it was nothing but Eddie had this feeling that the only reason why Steve was upset all of a sudden was because he started talking about how beautiful Robin was, then again anything could’ve made Steve act the way he did. Eddie stopped thinking about all of that when he heard the sirens die down a little bit and heavy footsteps started making their way towards the boat he was in. The tarp that was on top of him was folded back revealing the four familiar faces that he was used to and not someone who would hurt him.

“Eddie, we’re going to leave for a little bit but we’ll come back here soon okay?” Dustin said in a hurry. Eddie knew that they would come back tomorrow and the likely hood of them coming back later that night while Hawkins was in a frenzy was very far fetched. Eddie nodded his head still despite knowing that he’ll be alone again for several hours.

“Make sure to keep these with you just in case.” Max chimed in quickly as she ran to the other side of the boathouse then running back to place the snacks that they got for him in the little space between him and the boat. He laughed softly before holding the snacks close to him.

“Thank you.” Eddie said softly. His gaze focused on Robin and she smiled at him. Eddie’s heart felt like it was going to explode, he smiled back at her while he started blushing. He had so much that he wanted to say to her but there wasn’t enough time for him to form the right words.

“Like Dustin said we’ll come back for you. Just hang in there until we get back.” Robin reassured him before placing her hand on his and giving it a squeeze. Eddie knew this was her way of telling him everything was going to be alright but the butterflies in his stomach kept fluttering around. He felt like a kid talking to his crush, a feeling that he’s never felt before.

“Robin-“ Eddie tried to talk to her but the sound of more police sirens alerted them and they started moving towards the door. Eddie didn’t have much time to think as he grabbed Steve’s wrist before he could run with the others.

“Steve!” Eddie blurted out while he pulled Steve close. Their faces were inches apart from each other and the blush on Steve was face became noticeable when Eddie started to observe his face. For a second it was almost like he was holding his breath but Eddie could’ve been imagining all of it.

“Y-yeah?” Steve said in a panicked tone but he managed to keep his composure for his own sake. Eddie leaned in close enough to Steve’s ear so he could hear him.

“Make sure that Robin stays safe okay? I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.” Eddie whispered. When he pulled away he expected to have a mutual understanding with Steve or at least show some type of reassurance that he would make sure to do that for Eddie. Instead he got a look from Steve that was way different from the look he saw earlier, almost like he was hurt. Steve opened his mouth to say something but he bit his lip. After a few seconds Steve finally settled on something to say.

“Okay. I will.” Steve said softly then giving a half smile. This would be the first time that Eddie has ever seen Steve genuinely smile and he had to admit that a smile suited him a lot more than the angry look. Eddie smiled at him and now both of them seemed to be on the same page when it came to the situation at hand.

Steve gave him a nod before he ran with the others and Eddie was left alone with his thoughts. He rubbed his hands over his face after as he let out a groan. Eddie had no idea how life turned into this for him but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Eddie went over all the things that’s happened in the past few days and he couldn’t process it all at once. He didn’t know what was going to be next for him if somehow he could avoid the narratives that were being put on him and now he had to focus on getting his soulmate to fall in love with him with the help of her best friend who was most definitely going to be a pain in the ass. The longer Eddie had all of this stuff in his mind the more he kept overthinking every possible outcome, taking him to a place he hasn’t been in awhile. He shook his head to get out of his own mind and he took advantage of the snake that were by his side. When midnight hit Eddie laid still under the tarp while his back was getting indents from the hard surface of the boat, not to mention how extremely cold the boathouse was and the tarp was in no way shape or form a blanket that could warm him up. Eddie closed his eyes trying to ignore the rustling of the tree branches that would hit the boathouse every once in awhile and he had to stop himself from jumping after every sound he heard. He was absolutely terrified when it came down to it but he would never admit it, the only thing he could do was try to keep going.

Eddie just hoped that the one he was meant to be with would be there waiting for him on the other side.

Part 5

195 notes · View notes

lambtotheslaughterr · 11 months

Text

Awake

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

PART SIX

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FIVE | SERIES MASTERLIST | PART SEVEN

[THIS SERIES WILL CONTAIN INACCURATE MEDICAL CONDITIONS. I HAVE CERTAINLY MADE THIS DISEASE UP & DO NOT CLAIM ANY OF IT TO BE ACCURATE. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 18+. MINORS DNFI]

a reminder that Rafe uses the alias Adrian in this story

You were unsure whose facial expression you should’ve been more concerned about: Lillie’s uncontained rage or Adrian’s glowered glare. The two of them stared shamelessly at the other, Lillie’s mouth agape in shock & Adrian’s nostrils flaring at her unwavering stance.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Lillie!” You exclaimed, stepping between the two, “Quit. I can take care of myself.”

Lillie’s wide eyes rounded on you in minor confusion before she threw daggers back at Adrian, “What have you told her?”

It was only with her question that you suddenly remembered why she must be upset. He’s from Kildare, Lillie likely knew of him as much as your old self did.

“Everything!” You moved to stand directly in her line of sight, your hand gently grasping Adrian’s wrist behind you. “Look I know you & mom & everyfuckingone else think I can’t take care of myself but I can.”

Lillie pressed her lips together, her eyes never leaving Adrian’s. You continued before she could speak further, “You don’t get to show up at my door uninvited, unwelcome, & interrogate my guests.”

“Guests.” Lillie scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. She crossed her arms, finally looking at you, “You let him in. You turn your mom & I down but you let this Kildare Kook inside.”

“Lil!” You stared at her, “Stop. I don’t know what your beef is with each other & frankly I don’t care. I know everything I need to know & am well enough to make my own decisions.”

Lillie looked at you for a moment longer before she stared past your shoulder at her object of anger, “Wow. You’re good.”

“I think you should leave.” Adrian’s voice sounded behind you, reminding you that he was even there & why you & Lillie were fighting in your apartment hallway.

“Fat chance.” Lil then bypassed the both of you in a second, gathering her bags & bringing them into your apartment.

“Lillie..” You sighed. You hadn’t seen Lillie like this before, not since your rebirth, & it was clear to you at this point that her determination to stay & see Adrian out should be of slight concern to you. You watched in mild annoyance as Lil sat herself on a stool at the island, crossing on leg over the other, placing her hands on her knee as if she was a mother waiting for her child who snuck out to some crawling in the dog door.

“What’d you tell her?” Lillie again focused her attention on Adrian who remained just on the other side of the threshold, still standing in the hallway, “C’mon let’s hear it.”

You looked back at him, your brows furrowing, “Let’s get this over with, Adrian, c’mon.”

“Adrian?” Lillie narrowed her eyes between the two of you. Your heart panged. Those nauseating twists in your stomach returning.

Adrian’s eyes fell you to you then. He continued to look almost expressionless, save for the cruel gleam in his eyes, “I’ll see ya later, _____.”

Then to your surprise, Adrian turned on his heel & disappeared out of sight. A small, shocked gasp escaped you. Stepping into the hallway you called after him, “Adrian!”

“_____, close the door.” Lillie appeared at your side, her hand gripping your lower arm gently to pull you back inside, “He’s not coming back.”

Dumbly, you allowed Lillie to seat you at the island as she clacked away on her phone in a frenzy, “Can’t believe he has the fucking gall.” She muttered.

Your mouth was dry as you replayed the event that just happened, an event that took all of two minutes to transpire. Now you were sitting in your apartment at 8 in the morning with Lillie who showed up out of the blue & Adrian walking into it, leaving you with thousands of questions. Questions though that you knew Lillie would have the answer to.

“Lil.” Your throat scratched as you spoke; she continued to shake her head & be on her phone, likely texting your mother.

“Lil.” You said again, this time more firmly, “What the hell just happened?”

She clicked her tongue, “That’s what you’re gonna tell me.” With that she put her phone down & reached for your hand, “And the first thing I want to know is why you’re calling him Adrian.”

You swallowed a lump at her question. Because that’s his name…right?

“He obviously told you his name is Adrian?” Lillie pushed.

“Obviously.” You replied monotonously, adjusting your seat so you could place your elbows on the counter, “But it’s not. Is it?”

“Look, I don’t know what he told you, _____, but whatever it was wasn’t the truth. I mean hell, if any of us knew he was even here no one would’ve let you stayed.”

Your head was beginning to hurt. Your eyes burned. It would’ve been a relief to blame it on the time of day & the sunlight streaming into your apartment, but the blinds had surely been drawn & it wasn’t unusual for you to still be up at this time trying to sleep on some mornings.

“Just…tell me everything, Lil. I don’t want a single detail spared.” You raised your eyes to meet hers, “Because you all clearly left a lot out.”

A flash of guilt crossed her eyes & she lowered her head, “Your parents didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what?”

Lillie sighed, looking up at you, “His name isn’t Adrian. It’s Rafe Cameron. And he’s your ex-boyfriend.”

The clock above your therapist’s head read 7:32. Your appointment had been going for only two minutes & you already wanted to jump out of your window. After Lillie told you everything earlier this morning, your mom had phoned in a panic. You didn’t answer, instead leaving Lillie to answer her call as you disappeared into your bedroom as zombie, completely shell shocked by the past life bomb that Lil was forced to drop on you.

Now there you were, almost 12 hours later sitting in your living room with Lillie, your parents, & your therapist. You wished that they could’ve waited at least a day before paying the abundant amount of cash they had laying around to fly themselves & your therapist to your city for an emergency session. All of the information that had been dropped on you was still settling. It would be for a while.

“_____, would you like to start?” Dr. Kelley sat before everyone as she gestured to you to speak first.

You had plenty you wanted to say, but no words could come out. You felt numb. You felt lied to. You were lied to. Not just by Adrian, but your family & friends. The two groups of people you should’ve been able to trust unconditionally. But they, like Adrian—or Rafe, fuck you really needed to remember that—took advantage of your long-term amnesia.

You stiffly shook your head.

“Honey, we’re sorry.” Your mother sat closest to you on the couch to your left. Her arm stretched out to place an assuring grip on your knee. It was anything but. You shifted your knee out from under her palm.

“I can’t trust anyone.” You muttered, unable to look anyone in the eyes, “Not even you, Dr. Kelley. You knew about everything because I had been going to you before the accident.”

“It isn’t the doctor’s fault, sweetheart,” Your dad began, “Your mother & I made the decision to protect you from the past.”

“Protect me?” You spit, raising your heated glare to the pair of them, “Because you guys did such a damn good job at ‘protecting me’, that creep managed to slither into my life. Real good job, dad.”

“_____.” Lillie spoke, “They’re just trying to help.”

“You don’t get to talk.” You shifted your glare to her before looking away again, your eyes on the cityscape outside.

“It’s true, _____.” Dr. Kelley joined, “Though it was your parents’ ideas I fully supported their decision. You had a chance to start clean & fresh & completely removed from a traumatic period in your life.”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, “What about ethics? Morals? Does anyone in this room have any?” You questioned, peering over everyone quickly, “Sure doesn’t look it.”

“You were doing so well not knowing about everything, about Rafe & your really horrible relationship with him. We didn’t see the importance of reminding you of it all, especially given that you had a chance to truly move forward with your life.” Your mother pleaded but you shook your head in disagreement.

“Move forward? Are you listening to yourself? You trapped me in that godforsaken beach mansion for two years. You weren’t letting me move forward at all!” You leaned forward, staring wide eyed at her.

“You’re the one who wanted to move hundreds of miles away so badly.” She returned, her voice thick with worry.

“Oh right, because wanting to escape to the city to be out of the clutches of my rather underprotective parents who left me completely vulnerable to a psychotic ex I didn’t know I had is my fault.”

“_____!” Lillie raised her voice, “Would you just listen to them?”

“Why should I?!” You felt your heart racing, forcing you to stand up, “I’m not even sure if anything you guys are telling me now is the truth. You’ve lied to me for years, only coming clean when apparently this dangerous man comes into my life. How do I know it isn’t you guys just scheming to have me back on that stupid island?!”

“_____, sit down & breathe. Everyone, I think we should pause for a moment, it’s quite clear that _____ is overwhelmed & not open at this point in time.” You half-laughed at Dr. Kelley’s suggestion, shaking your head before stepping between the lounging furniture to head towards your bedroom.

“Take all the time you need. I was fine on my own before you all came bursting into my apartment unwelcome.”

Your parents hollered after you but you heard your therapist assure them you just needed time. Yeah, right, you thought bitterly to yourself, I need years.

In your room, you sat on your bed in the dark facing the windows, your thoughts scattered & lost. Despite your righteous feelings of anger & betrayal, your gut knew they were telling the truth. Adrian, Rafe whatever the fuck his name was, was no good. All the signs had been there, even the gut feelings, but he convinced you otherwise, you let him. You felt so normal with him, trusted him, despite all the red flags that had been raised. Plus ditching you the second his disguise was falling apart on Lillie’s arrival proved he was a coward too.

“_____.” Lillie softly spoke your name from the doorway, “Can I come in?”

You wanted to say no, you wanted to tell her to fuck off & go back to the island but you couldn’t find it in yourself to continue fighting. You were exhausting. It had been a much too long sleepless day.

Lillie took your lack of response as an ‘okay’, stepping in & gently shutting the door behind her. You felt her approach but she never neared enough to enter your peripheral. The weight on your bed shifted with her sitting on the other side.

“I know you’re angry, & you have every right to be. And I know that you feel deeply betrayed by all of us, but please, _____, that isn’t what we intended.”

You remained silent, staring absentmindedly at the building across the street: Rafe’s building.

“Rafe… he… he fucking ruined you, _____.” Lillie’s voice broke momentarily, causing your heart to shake with concern. Lillie sniffled once before continuing, this time her voice more even, “I know you hate it when we talk about who you were before but just know that anytime we have, we’re always talking about the you before Rafe Cameron came into your life. Because by the time you guys broke up there was no you. He killed your spirit, _____. You were a shell.”

A tear skipped down your cheek, much to your surprise. You sat & listened in silence as Lillie carried on, “I remember the first time he hit you. Actually, at this point I’m not even sure if it was the first time, but you had said it was & I think that’s only because I saw the bruise before you could cover it. I don’t know how long he had been hurting you at that point, but you were scared. You were so scared that you were protecting him. You lied to us, you kept everyone up for hours on end at night after having disappeared with him so he could go on his coke-filled binges. You stopped coming around, stopped smiling, stopped swimming, & you loved the ocean.”

Your vision was blurry as she spoke, your breathing coming in long inhales & exhales.

“I think you stopped swimming because you couldn’t take your clothes off. It becomes pretty obvious that something is wrong when my best friend is wearing long sleeves & yoga pants in 90 degree weather. But you wouldn’t listen to me. And eventually you stopped talking to me. Pretty sure Rafe had a hand in that, too.”

Lillie sighed. You imagined she was recalling everything that happened, everything you couldn’t remember.

“He was possessive, controlling, & abusive. The trifecta of a psycho fuck, _____. It got so bad that he hit you in front of your parents. That’s when everything came to a stop. I always knew he was shady, having seen how he acted in school but your parents were more optimistic. They knew he had a history of drug abuse but they were under the impression you were helping him deal & cope. They had no idea what you had been dealing with. And you begged me not to tell them about the bruise that I saw the one time, swearing it was one time & he apologized profusely for it. I really wanted to believe you & I’m a bad friend for letting you convince me. I should’ve said something because if I had… you wouldn’t of… you wouldn’t…”

“Lil.” You turned on your bed to face her now, your heart crumpling at the sight of her face hidden behind her hands as she cried quietly. You crawled across the bed to her, pulling her in to hug her, “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but,” She pulled away to look at you, “I could’ve saved you if I had just said something.”

“It’s. Not. Your. Fault.” You repeated, “It was all him. And me.”

“You tried to kill yourself, _____.” Lil’s voice shook, “You swam out in the middle of a fucking storm, all because you couldn’t outrun him. He wouldn’t let you go. And now he’s followed you hundreds of miles away to slip right back in.”

You pressed your lips together as Lillie wiped her face. You didn’t know what to say, what could you say. That they were right, that you overreacted? There was no right answer. All you could do now was move forward with all this new information & hope that this time around your past wouldn’t come knocking on your door.

You watched tiredly as your dad brought up the last box into your apartment. You had moved. Again. This time much closer to home. Twenty minutes away to be exact.

Once Thanksgiving came & went & November was ending, you begrudgingly agreed with your family & therapist that you should move back to Kildare. Though a massive part of you still wanted to stay in the city, you couldn’t allow yourself to be vulnerable for Rafe again. Especially since he was nowhere to be found.

The night after everything had been revealed to you, you had tried calling his number. At the time you weren’t sure why, but you had & the number had been disconnected. Unfortunately, he was proving himself to be exactly as he was described by Lillie & your family. This didn’t stop your parents though. They hired a P.I. to investigate his whereabouts & there had been no lead. The only thing the investigation left you with was that they had indeed found a piano in his abandoned apartment that was leased under his alias Adrian.

You had discovered your piano maestro, & it left nothing but a tightly wound knot in your stomach.

“Thanks, Mr. _____.” Lillie followed behind your dad as she entered the apartment. The other aspect to your changed environment was having a roommate. No matter the potential danger you were in, you couldn’t fathom living under your parents’ roof again, so a compromise was made: Lillie & Jozef would be your new caretakers.

“I still have some strength left in this middle-aged body of mine.”

“I’ll say.” Lillie replied jovially.

“Alright, kids, I got to head out, your mom is gonna wake up soon. Are you sure you don’t want to join us for dinner tonight?” He raised his brows at you.

“For the last time, yes.” You had your back to him as you ripped the tape off a cardboard box, “I’ll come by for dinner once we’re settled.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, “Promise.”

“I’ll make sure she keeps that promise.” Lillie gleamed, “Promise.”

Your dad nodded once, a small smile on his face, “Okay, alright, but don’t give me any crap if your mom calls & complains about it.” He approached you, kissing you once on the head, “It really is good to have you home, kid. I know it’s not ideal but it’s not forever, okay?”

“Okay, dad.” You mustered a smile for him, “Love you.”

“Love you too. If you guys need any more help, my phone is on silent.”

Lil & you chuckled softly at his joke before he exited the first floor apartment.

For the next couple hours you & Lil unpacked in silence, save for Spotify playing from her phone. You had each begun in your separate bedrooms until Jozef arrived home from his job with pizza then the three of you sat on your living room floor surrounded by boxes & artwork with no frames.

“Pretty cool that your parents are paying for the first month, _____.” Jozef said around a sip of soda, “Wish my parents could pay up.”

“Your parents are dead.” Lil added exasperatedly, the whole ‘dead parents’ thing being a playful trademark of Jozef’s.

“Coulda left me a little somethin’ somethin’.”

“You blew it all in the first month.” Lil reminded him in the same tone. You smiled to yourself at their banter. It was only in very rare moments like this that you wish you could remember the past. You wish you could get in on their jokes, or remember being there for Jozef when his parents died, or how Lillie probably denied having feelings for him before they officially began dating. It was the little big things that you regretfully wondered the most about.

“Yeah, I guess.” You said, wanting to ignore how even though you were living on your own with some friends that you were still dependent on them to live. But now considering that you have a crazy ex that you can’t remember but did sleep with out on the loose, you’d take this loss over a worst one.

The three of you finished eating about fifteen minutes later, Jozef gathering the empty pizza box & paper plates to discard. As he did, Lil cast a knowing look at you. You attempted to ignore, instead picking at an imaginary hangnail on your finger, but to no luck.

“What?” You rolled your eyes, feeling her gaze.

“You good?”

“You want the easy answer or the real answer.” You asked.

“Give it to me straight.” She replied.

You shook your head, forgetting the invisible hangnail. Shrugging your shoulders you picked at the cheap carpet, “I wish I was anywhere but here.”

“Gee, thanks.” The two of you shared a smile at her sarcastic response.

“Not like that. I just, I was so ready to be on my own. For real, ya know?”

“I know you were. And I wanted it for you. But, unfortunately it’s just not the time. Not at least until the P.I. your parents hired gets a location on psychoid.”

You feel yourself smile but it’s ingenuine. You scoffed, “Why me?” It wasn’t something you intended to be spoken out loud but the words came.

Lillie shifted uncomfortably, forcing you to raise your eyes from the carpet. She glared ahead at the makeshift table Jozef put together using a cardboard box.

“Lil? You okay?”

Her eyes met yours briefly before she half laughed insincerely, “Nothing, it’s just. You said that before. Right before you… ya know.”

Though you knew she was referring to your attempt at your own life, you couldn’t recall it, & like many other parts of your previous life, you were grateful for that. But you knocked your shoulder into hers gently, “It’s different this time, okay? I promise.”

“Promise me like you promise your dad?” She joked but her laugh fell short.

“I promise you more. I promise you for real.” You raised your pinky, “Nothing like that is going to happen again.”

Lillie nodded her head a few times before she raised her own pinky, locking it with yours, “You have to come to me. Always, no matter what.”

“I know. I will.” You gave her a reassuring smile, “Her & I are not the same. I’m stronger.”

Lillie abruptly pulled you into her, hugging you tightly. You smiled into her shoulder, hugging her back, “I’ll be okay, Lil. Promise.”

It was early in the morning when your phone pinged, which mildly annoyed you considering you had only begun trying to go to sleep an hour or so ago. Expecting it to be a message from your mother checking in on how you were doing, you rolled over to silence your phone, not intending to be bothered by more of her texts. But upon your phone lighting up when you grabbed it, you saw that it was a text from an unsaved number.

Wiping the little sleep from your eyes, you unlocked your phone & slid the message open.

Thinking of you.

In that moment your bedroom began to slowly spin. Your ears felt stuffed, muffling any & all sound your apartment could make. You knew deep down who it was that was texting you. Staring dizzily at the text, you were prepared to block the number when bubbles appeared on screen followed by another ping & text.

--R

At least he wasn’t lying about his name this time.

Woah woah woah, been a minute. Been busy but here's part six! We're getting close to the finale. The next part may or may not be the final part. We shall see.

Anyway! Ya'll, talk to me, let me know what you're thinking. I am deeply deprived of your thoughts/feelings etc.

Thank you for reading.

oona<3

Requests are currently CLOSED

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @rottenstyx @fangirlwithlou @maggiecc @magnificantmermaid

if you want to be added to a tag list, comment whether you want to be tagged for a character, a series, or in general, otherwise it will be dismissed.

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!fic #non con fic #dark!outer banks #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #part six #awake

101 notes · View notes

zzoguri · 7 months

Text

[part one] of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)

non-idol!jacob bae x reader, slight non-idol!ji changmin x reader

when you are unable to continue staying in the city, you are forced to move back to the small provincial town you begged to stay away from. but when you come face-to-face with the reliable village co-chief, jacob bae, you learn that your stay won’t be so pleasant after all.

genre/warnings ➵ childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn, slice of life, angst, slight fluff!, afab reader (they/them pronouns), hurt/comfort, flashbacks, being lost (and trying to figure things out) in your late 20s, a lot of trauma that stem from mommy issues (tiger moms :')), themes of grief, forgiveness, and pressure to succeed, quitting your job & lying to everyone out of shame, realizing you have grown out of your hometown, ju haknyeon is your lovely best friend, jacob bae has issues with you </3, you two also work together, use of nicknames, alludes to someone's death, depictions of panic attacks

word count ➵ 8.2k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub

a/n ➵ SHE'S DONE!!! SHE'S OUT!!! EARLY RELEASE YUP!!!! needed this out just to give me time to work on the fic exchange event </3 please be patient for the other parts (there will be more jacob and reader interaction </3) this is very slow burn so i hope you guys will stick with me all throughout! i hope you all enjoy! i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this (even if it's in your tbr!)

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! main masterlist

The first steps you take are ones you don’t remember; the first time you managed to stand on your own two feet in front of your parents, the first words you say to your dad—poopy—as he changed your diapers, even the first book you read to yourself. (It’s The Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister, though you probably didn’t understand the string of words at the time)

Yet, within the four corners of your mind, a cardboard box labeled “do not throw” sits by one of them. It stores fractions of moments that’ll never get lost in a hole that time continues to shovel down; your first day in kindergarten where you scraped your knee from playing, and the first friend made in your first years of school who you cannot help but think about until now.

But most of all, you’ll never forget the aspirations that propelled you to where you stand today. The desire to be good—great, even—so that you could prove that you are capable never seemed to dwindle. And no matter all the times the ambition felt like it would slip from your fingertips, you gripped it tighter than ever, forming calluses all over. You couldn’t allow yourself to settle for less. You had to prove yourself to someone—one who underestimates while expecting everything from you.

It’s funny; a monologue about determination and pride only for you to stand in your apartment littered with boxes filled with household items, ready to move out of busy Seoul. You stand in the middle of the mess, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes scan through the items that need to be packed and sold.

“Appa, I’m sorry again for causing you trouble,” you whisper.

A chuckle sounds out from the other end of the line. “What’re you sorry for? I’m happy that you’re coming back home!” You sigh as you sit down on your couch. It’ll be the last time you ever get to sit on it until you move tomorrow.

“I swear, I’ll be back on my feet soon enough. It’s just that,” you try to keep your heart at bay. “HR is forcing me to use my vacation days, and rent here is impossible without me doing work.” The lie leaves your mouth like how you practiced it over the past weeks.

You couldn’t stand to break your dad’s heart with the truth. The child who should’ve succeeded had turned into an unemployed individual. Who would’ve expected that you, out of all people, would quit your job? It paid well and kept you afloat amid Seoul, and you wonder why you did that in the first place.

Now, you stand between crossroads without any road signs. Without a clue of which track to thread on, you take steps back rather than moving forward. You were supposed to reach another height your father could commemorate. Instead, you’re back in the town you grew up in—the place you’ve grown to hate, the one you abandoned for the right reasons—and you can only imagine the disappointment that will coat your father’s face as he has to shelter you once more.

The brown container that sits in the corner of your mind doesn’t only store the trinkets that are in good shape—it holds novelties that bring sorrow. No matter how many times you wish you could chuck it down the endless hole, these tangible fragments always land back in the box as if they never left. The case can never be thrown away; there’s nothing you can do but leave it as is, stirring away from it as much as you can.

“I really don’t mind. I mean, it’s been years since I last saw you,” your dad says, and you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek.

“Still, I’m sorry I sprung this on you last minute.” Your eyes land on a picture frame that hangs on the wall. A picture of you and your coworkers during one of the team buildings; it’s your favorite memory with them. “I would’ve asked my friends if they could help me out but they didn’t have the space to accommodate me.”

This time, you were telling the truth. Kim Namjoon from Production and Kang Seulgi from Marketing, your friends from your old job, didn’t have enough room for you in their respective places. You didn’t want to inconvenience them with your troubles, anyway. Ultimately, it’s your fault for leaving your job after all, and it’s not your friends' responsibility to take care of you.

“Y/N,” your father starts. “I said it’s fine. I’m happy to take you back because I miss you.” You pout at his words. Although you had the right reasons to leave home, you felt bad that you abandoned him as well. You two tried to stay in touch through short calls you managed to squeeze into your busy schedules, but you know that it could never replace the comfort of physical presence.

“Appa,” you whine out as you lean back on the couch, the leather squeaking against the friction. “I miss you, too,” your dad chuckles on the other end of the line; it’s a sound you haven’t heard in a while.

As you stare at the opened boxes, you let out a sigh. “Appa, I’ll have to go. I still need to finish packing and sending some items away.” He hums in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you by next week, okay?”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.”

You chuckle before saying, “Appa, it’s fine. I still know my way around town.”

“Still! I want to help you out with your luggage, and the town has changed a bit since you last visited for—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. He doesn’t say anything after that. “I’ll figure it out. I want you to focus on your restaurant, okay?” He only hums.

A beat passes. You’re about to say something until he beats you to it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Appa, it’s fine.” The tone is convincing, but you two knew about the sensitive issue that he almost touched on. A sigh leaves your lips. “I mean it, okay? You don’t have to worry.” The last thing you wanted is for your dad to worry about you again; he’s done enough of that while you were still under his care.

“But I’ll always worry about you because I care. You know that, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek, letting out a hum. Your dad sighs before saying, “Okay, I’ll let you go now. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do.”

You smile to yourself. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Appa.”

“Bye, Gyul-ah.”

Warmth spreads to your heart. It’s been a while since you heard him call you that—mandarin orange. To you and him, clementines and tangerines looked and tasted the same, no matter what other people tried to convince you of their differences. The fruits were staples in your childhood home, always peeled and ready to eat.

“Bye, Appa.” The call drops. You move your phone to the side before letting out a sigh. You look at the mess that surrounds you. It’s tough work but one that must be done. You’re staying there for two weeks, and you’ll return to your life in Seoul right after. You’ll be able to find a job within that time frame, right?

Six years ago—that was the last time you visited this town. In your time away, it still looks the same. Unlike Seoul, the sky isn’t polluted by the exhaust from cars or the blaring lights of every skyscraper. Puffy white clouds contrast the bright blue.

The sounds of cicadas fill your ears, and the heat pierces your skin. God, you remember why you disliked staying here, and it wasn’t just from the minor issues. So many reasons to leave, and yet, you’re back here with no choice.

A sigh leaves you as you step out of the train. The station looks the same as the last time you left; rust covers the arms of benches, the clock still ticks slower than the one on your wrist, and leaves are scattered all over the floor. You notice only a few passengers have gotten off this stop (five people including you) and you only wonder what business they have here.

Nothing is interesting about where you grew up. It’s a rural area; the fields of fruits and vegetables, a small communal market at the center of town, and only around 200 residents living in this area. It’s a small town—what could’ve changed over the years?

You step out of the station, luggage trailing behind you, and you bump into the busy community. In their arms were crates of produce; vegetables, fruits, eggs, you name it. The faces that passed you were familiar ones, but no one seemed to recognize you. Maybe you grew out of your 18-year-old self. And you expect to feel a sense of relief take over—you have finally grown out of your past—but you feel more displaced than ever.

But before you can dwell on it, you hear someone call your name. The voice is familiar, one you haven’t heard in ages, and your eyes land on a boy—your first friend back in kindergarten. Your heart soars at how much he’s grown. He comes rushing to you with a crate of oranges and drops it as soon as he stands in front of you.

“Juhak,” the nickname leaves your lips, a smile following.

Before you know it, he brings you into a hug; it’s one you haven’t felt in years. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” He smells of citrus, probably from the fruits he was handling. The scent reminds you of home; tangerines and clementines in every corner, unpeeled and ready to consume. Your arms wrap around him, your face snuggling into his shoulder, and you breathe him in—almost to make up for all the years spent separated.

Ten years ago—that was the last time you saw your childhood friend, Ju Haknyeon. The difference between him when you first left versus now isn’t stark. Long gone is his fluffy hair, and a short fringe is what he sports. He’s grown a few inches taller, and he’s definitely gotten more muscle on him. But baby fat still fills his cheeks, and he flashes you a toothy grin; it’s a Juhak signature. In this man, a part of your best friend still resides.

“I—wow, I don’t even know what to say,” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, taking in the sight of you. “Can’t believe you’re dressed up like that.” The chuckle that leaves his lips has you rolling your eyes. Clothed in a pair of jeans whose material seems hotter than fleece and a long-sleeved shirt, you were not dressed for this type of heat. This outfit is normal back in Seoul, even something you would wear during summer, but you’ve forgotten how different the heat is back here.

“Sorry, didn’t know there was a dress code.” It’s laced with sarcasm, and Haknyeon snorts. You pull on your collar, letting the air pass and graze your skin. You smile at him. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Haknyeon gulps down nothing. It’s a habit of his—swallowing nothing whenever he couldn’t find the right words to say. You’re almost shocked at how his antics are still the same even ten years later.

Silence takes over. In those few seconds, you two allow for it to settle. You two couldn’t believe you’d finally set foot back into this town, and the joy of reuniting with an old friend shifts into discomfort. The reality sinks in—you abandoned your best friend without any notice.

You divert your gaze to the ground. In your peripheral vision, you spot him picking up the crate. “I, uhm,” you fix your posture, back straight as you stare back at him. A gentle smile rests on his lips, and you’re only reminded of how shitty you were to leave this town with no way to contact you. “I’m—yeah, I don’t even know where to start.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m assuming you're on your way to Abeoji.” He glances at the luggage behind you. As you hum, he says, “I’ll go with you.”

Your eyes widen at his offer, taking a glimpse at the crate he holds. “What about work?”

“Lucky for you, I just need to drop this off at the market and then we can go.” He flashes you a smile, and you nod, accepting his request and hauling your luggage as you walk side-by-side with him.

As you two make your way to the center, you take in the features of the town. The buildings are shorter than the skyscrapers in Seoul, reaching only two levels high. There were marts selling different products; school supplies, ingredients, amenities, you name it. In every establishment, it would be filled with people who know each other. No matter who you passed, every store clerk had a relationship with the customers, and every customer seemed to know the other shoppers as well. It’s a tight-knit community, you always knew that, but it still amazes you that such an attitude persists after your disappearance.

“Here we are,” Haknyeon says, causing you to halt your steps. “This won’t take long.” Before you know it, he enters the establishment. The store clerk’s expression instantly brightens at the sight of him. As you watch the two interact through the glass window, your heart is enveloped in warmth. It feels similar to the glow in a fireplace—toasty enough to bring you comfort until your hand is too close to the source, leaving a mark that can only be soothed by cold water. The sight shows that Haknyeon is doing well, but it’s enough to remind you of what you missed out on during your absence.

He makes his way out of the store, hands-free, and grins at you. “Well, ready to visit Abeoji?” You nod before walking to your dad’s restaurant. You two make your way out of the center, entering the quieter parts of town. The chatter turns into mumbles and the buzzing of cicadas takes over.

“So, Abeoji renovated the restaurant,” Haknyeon starts. You glance at him before letting your eyes trail back to the path you take.

“Really? How different does it look?” Your dad never mentioned this. Even when you came back to visit six years ago, you were unaware of such plans. But you remember that you two never talk (and you mean actually talk). In your phone calls, it was always small talk—Hi, Appa. Are you doing well? Okay, I’ll ask the same question tomorrow. Bye—and never about what occurred in your separate lives.

“It’s nicer. It still has a wood interior, the chairs, the tables, you know.” You hum at what he says, glad to know that it won’t be too different from the restaurant you grew up with. “But the kitchen is a lot nicer and not as cramped. It’s still small and cozy. Your dad added sleeping quarters to the back.” You look at Haknyeon but he only looks straight, eyes still on the track you two take.

His revelation made you wonder how much your father had to face all while you were gone. All while you were off in Seoul barely getting by, you can only imagine what your dad must’ve gone through. The waves crash against your heart, dragging it into the sea of black and consuming it as if it were nothing. Did you even have a heart if you abandoned everyone ten years ago?

He meets your gaze, a grin on his lips. “I’m so glad to see that you’re back!” You smile back at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you back? Does Abeoji have a problem?” His question isn’t meant to be invasive. Out of all people, Haknyeon knew how to respect your boundaries. You wish you could tell him the truth—you’re unemployed and you have nowhere to go but here. And yet…

“Oh, I’m on leave.” His eyebrows raise in shock. “My company told me I need to use my vacation days. It’s part of the policy, you know.” The only truth that stands is that your old company did require you to use those allotted days; it’s their way of ensuring that they aren’t overworking their employees.

“Wow! Didn’t know city life was that progressive,” Haknyeon laughs. “I would’ve gone to Seoul if I knew that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just got lucky with my company. Work is still work, you know?” He hums along. “I’m guessing you still work with your parents?” It’s a fair assumption considering his family has one of the more giant fruit farms in town.

“Yup!” His eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be taking over the business once Appa retires.” You forget how much Haknyeon enjoys this place. Never once do you remember him ever considering a life in the city, away from the noisy cicadas and troublesome flies. All he needs is found here.

“How’s the city?”

You hum, thinking about where to start. “Everything is cramped but far apart,” you chuckle as you shake your head. “The buildings are so close together but you need to commute to get around, and it’s hard to travel during rush hour.”

Haknyeon scrunches his nose. “That sounds awful.” You nod. “But I’m sure your friends helped you out in adjusting.” He meant to say it with sincerity but the tone is like ice water being thrown at you—a reality check of what you had done to him. You know of your sin—it’ll be one you need to repent for.

You two finally arrive in front of a small building, one that resembles a house. The roof used to be crimson with splotches of black, and the walls were once off-white. But the new look of your dad’s restaurant is a sight to behold; a cream-colored roof and walls painted in basil green with potted plants littered at the front.

“Well, here we are!” Your eyes snap back to Haknyeon. He holds the same smile he first shot when he spotted you in the crowd. “How long will you be staying?”

“Around two weeks.” That’s what you hope.

“That’s good to hear! We should catch up while you’re still here.” Knowing him, this isn’t an empty request; it’s one that you must fulfill. So you nod, smiling before making your way to the door. Your hand rests on the knob; you don’t know if you should turn it.

“There’ll be a party by the community hall tomorrow.” You gaze at him. He stands afar, chest open with a gashed heart. It bears the marks of your fingertips; he still hands it to you. “Your dad is coming, and I’m sure everyone else would love to meet you.”

It’s Haknyeon’s attempt to involve you with the community once more—to give you a reason to stay—but it won’t be enough. Melancholy fills the air. The repulsive stench clings to every corner of town—only you can smell it—and that scent accompanies your sins; they take form in the faces of those you know. You didn’t want to be face-to-face with the one person you’ve disappointed the most.

“I’ll see.” It’s a whisper, one that signifies your hesitation. You’re sure he knows what that phrase means; it never changed during your years away. But he settles for a smile, not bothering to convince you otherwise. The ball is in your courtside, and it’s your choice on what you want to do with it.

“I’ll see you, okay?”

You nod and twist the doorknob, and the bells chime as it signals your arrival. “Bye.” A final glance and grin are what you spare him before you enter the restaurant. And when you close the door behind you, you realize that it’s not only the outside that carries the stench. Within these four walls, the scent is accompanied by murky waves. Every part of this town floods you with nothing but misery.

Picture frames litter the walls; photographs of the community, the sceneries of town, and artworks from unknown artists. Some you recognize back in the days you stayed here after class but others were new. In a sea of potted plants that hang from the ceiling, incandescent bulbs glow within the expanse of green. You once remember the lack of greenery in this restaurant. But the chairs and table are the same ones from then, their wood getting discolored with age. You’re almost sure you can find your old carvings if you spend time looking for them.

Every corner of this restaurant held a piece of the past amongst the new—a part of what you’re familiar with within the abundance of the unfamiliar—but these do nothing to drive away the stench. If anything, the scent intensifies. A face mask cannot do anything to keep you from smelling it. You’re only left to suck it in and plague you with memories you’ve pushed down.

“Gyul-ah!” Your father comes in, a grin on his face. There are more lines on his face, a sign that he has gotten older over the time you were gone, and you are glad to witness him at this age. Not many people can say they’ve seen their parent’s hair turn white and wrinkles get deeper. The sight of him is enough to twist the valves, almost turning on the waterworks, but you keep your hand firm on the knobs. Today, you weren’t going to allow yourself to cry.

But you run to him, leaving your luggage by the front door, and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing him in for the first time in six years, and he embraces you. He smells of baby powder, the same brand you used back when he took care of you, and you realize that he keeps parts of the past to hold pieces of you. You can only imagine how much you’ve grown since he last saw you.

You grin at him when your head finally leaves the space between his neck and shoulder. You two untangle yourselves from each other. For a moment, you let yourselves bathe in each other’s presence; it’s a miracle after all.

“You continue to grow and become more beautiful with time,” he starts, his hand reaching out to your shoulder. He draws circles, almost as if he’s trying to process your presence. “But I know the child in you still lives,” he attempts to come to terms with how he barely knows you, but you won’t disagree—not this time, at least.

“Appa, I love what you did with the place. How come you never mentioned it?”

He shakes his head, retracting his hand from you. “Ah, it’s nothing. We’re busy with our own lives, so I didn’t want to trouble you with the details.” It’s a direct strike on your heart, but it’s the truth. “But I’m glad that you’re here to see it yourself. It makes the reveal a lot more authentic.”

“Yeah.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I’d love to catch up, but I need to prepare and open the restaurant,” he sighs before making his way to the door, flipping the sign that once said “closed” to “open.” “My employee will be late, so I’ll need to work extra hard for the time being.”

You frown. “Late? Why?” You quickly make your way to grab the luggage and drag it to the counter where the cashier is. “Let me help out.” You didn’t give him time to share the reason.

“No, it’s okay,” your dad’s attempt to reassure you does nothing. His gaze rests on you as he slowly approaches where you stand. “You should settle from your long journey. I’m sure the ride was exhausting.”

“Appa, I only sat in the train for a few hours, and during the ride I was asleep. I want to help.” Before he knows it, you’re already dragging your luggage to the back of the restaurant.

“At least put your things in the quarters!”

The last time you worked in your dad’s restaurant was ten years ago. Back then, you used to work with the cashier and clean dishes. But when you are left to handle all those tasks and tend to customers while your father focuses on cooking, it feels impossible. As the hand of the clock strikes 2:00 p.m., customers have made their way out of the restaurant. You can finally catch your breath.

Your dad exits the kitchen, spotting you leaning on the counter. “It’s nice to see that you still have it within you.” He doesn’t mean to mock you, you know that, but the sting of his words is still felt. Years spent in Seoul will never diminish the skills you learned from working under your father.

“How do you even manage? I mean, with you and your employee?”

He sighs. You watch him wipe the clean dishes and set them aside. “I like what I do, no matter how difficult it may be.” His gaze is affixed on you.

It strikes a chord within you. You spent six years in your old job, so indeed you must’ve enjoyed what you did, right? And yet, you stand in front of your father, a pitiful case that he’ll have to tend to once more.

You clear your throat. “Appa, you’re getting old. Don’t you want to rest?”

“No,” he chortles. “I want to keep running this restaurant until I can barely move. I’ll know when to let this place go.” He walks to the space beside you and grabs hold of your hand. The hand that changed your diapers and cooked your meals has aged. He’s spent so many years taking care of you; there’ll never be a good way to thank him for everything.

“I’ll have you stay in the old house,” he starts. Your grip on his hand grows tighter. “I’m not ready to go back there, so I’ve been sleeping here.”

A beat passes.

“Since when?”

“Six years ago.” He looks at you. “But I’ve been able to enter that house again. I just don’t sleep there. Don’t worry about the dust. My employee and I clean the place every week.” You’re not worried at all about the mess. It’s the stench that clings to the furniture, the murky water that floods the place, the spiders that crawl over the walls, the remnants of her. Those four walls only fuel your nightmares; ironically, you call them such when they’ve all been real.

So you want to tell him—no, beg him to let you stay here. You couldn’t walk into that house for it will have you relive fractions of your trauma. If you couldn’t enter that house six years ago, what difference would four years later make?

The bells chime, and your eyes land on the person who enters the restaurant. Foggy waves clash against you in full force, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. There he is, dressed in a baggy teal shirt and denim shorts. A few strands of hair hang in front of his forehead; it’s different from the old bowl-cut hair he used to have back in high school. But most of all, he’s grown up—not only out of his baby face but even in figure, aura.

A polite smile once rested on his lips. He looked ready to greet your father, almost ready to say hello to you, until he realized who stood beside his boss. The smile dissipates. Suddenly, time stills; it’s almost as if it worked under his command.

Under his gaze, you cannot help but shrink back to your 18-year-old self—the one who spent countless nights wondering what it would be like to be face-to-face with their best friend after abandoning them. And now that you’re finally in the situation you’ve spent days imagining, figuring out how to gain his trust again, you’re not sure what to say.

Jacob Bae—the home you sought out during your years growing up. (He still is, no matter how hard you try to dissociate that from him.) But now, he embodies your fears. The smell of tangerines is mixed with the repulsive stench—he’s turned into the house you ran away from ten years back.

Jacob’s expression shifts back to a polite smile as he looks at your father. “Abeoji, I’m sorry I’m late!” His nonchalant stride made the situation unpalatable. With every step taken towards your dad, an arrow is shot through your heart. It’s almost as if he didn’t care about what happened between you two (should he when you were the one who caused the rift?). His shoulder faces you all while he talks to your father; it’s a clear sign of what your relationship has turned into. Despite this space being one you grew up in, you’ve become an intruder. You have revoked your spot in this restaurant, this town.

“Don’t worry about it,” your dad says as he grips Jacob’s shoulder. “I hope all went well in the community center.”

Jacob smiles at him, and says, “Yeah, we got it settled. We’re just finalizing things for tomorrow.”

Your father hums as he glances at you. “Why don’t you bring back Y/N?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “They’ll need help getting settled in.” You shake your head at him, but he refuses to acknowledge your silent protest.

“Appa, I’m sure you’ll need him here,” you chuckle as your eyes glance to the back of Jacob’s head. “I can figure it out. I’ve lived there anyway; 18 years long, to be specific.” Jacob’s going to say no; you expect it. And yet…

“Okay.”

Your eyes widen. He proves you wrong—you don’t know him after all.

“Alright! Go get your stuff Gyul-ah,” your dad says as he wraps his arm around Jacob’s shoulders. And for once, Jacob looks at you. You cannot pinpoint the emotion across his features.

You nod at your father’s words and make your way to the back of the restaurant. Your heartbeat rings in your ears. Years spent imagining what to say to Jacob didn’t prepare you enough to face the actual situation. Once you gather your things, you leave the sleeping quarters. Your dad’s chortle bounces off the four walls, probably from a joke he made. And then you catch a glimpse of Jacob’s smile; it’s still sweet as you remember it. You’re suddenly back to your 17-year-old self.

Then, his eyes land on you. The smile vanishes. He stares right at you (you mean really stares at you, a long one for the matter) for the first time since he arrived. So you clear your throat, hoping that he will be the first one to break eye contact—he doesn’t. Your dad spins to face you. “Ah! Okay, I’ll see you.” You watch Jacob nod all while he keeps his gaze fixed on you.

For once, you let your ego take the hit; you avert your eyes and make your way to the door. You two leave, and Jacob doesn’t give you a moment to think. He grabs your luggage from you and finds his spot beside you. And you were going to comment—I can handle it myself—but he keeps his eyes forward; you decide to do the same.

Instead of walking on the dirt trail path, you’re walking on eggshells. You’re not sure what to say to clear the silence. Unbeknownst to you, he can sense your awkward nature. Hands fiddling with the strap of your shoulder bag and gaze fixed on their feet; your antics remain the same after all these years.

“How long will you be staying?” Your eyes snap up only to see him continue to look at the path.

You clear your throat, afraid your voice might crack. “Two weeks.” He only hums. You two fall back into silence.

It’s weird to think about it; the same guy who you once treated as your best friend since childhood—the same one whom you’ve poured your heart to—is now someone you barely know. You grew up with him and stuck with him from your elementary days until your high school ones. Ten years apart can change so much between those who once swore to stay in each other’s lives.

You two finally arrive in front of the old house, your old house. Everything is in shape; the windows are crystal clear and the paint is intact. It’s just like how you first left it. A storm brews within you; you despise it. After all these years, you still can’t escape the horrors of this house.

“Here,” Jacob says and raises the keys. You open your hand, allowing him to drop it into your palm. “Your boxes are inside, they arrived a few days ago. I also cleaned out the place.” You only nod. He glances at the luggage he holds and asks, “Do you need help settling in?” You shake your head which has him nodding. He hands you your luggage. “Okay.” You take it from him.

Before you know it, he turns away from you. He only takes a few steps but it feels like he’s gone distances away from you. And you’re afraid you’ll let him slip away like last time.

“Cobie!” It’s the first time you’ve said that nickname since you last saw him. He freezes. You’re not even sure if you had the right to call him that. He looks back at you, and his furrowed eyebrows say enough. “Sorry, I meant,” you close your eyes for a moment. “It slipped.” It’s an honest mistake, but you’re sure he’s not pleased by it.

He turns back to you, walking until he stands directly in front of you. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you with the same expression. “Do you want to come in?” His expression falters. “Maybe just to catch up.” It’s a small step but still one to begin with. Maybe you’ll figure out what to say to him within those four walls for they have you at your most vulnerable state; it’s the doing of the ghost that haunts the building.

The Jacob you knew would hear you out after all these years. He’d be defensive but still accept the offer. Cobie—no, Jacob always found comfort in answers, closure. And yet….

“No,” he answers. Your eyebrows jump in shock, and he notices. “I’d prefer not to. Good luck with unpacking.” And before you know it, he takes his leave. You watch his figure become smaller with every step he takes. He’s slipping away from your fingertips; there’s nothing you can do for he would only free himself from your grasp.

The waves are strong enough to tip your balance. You do everything to stand on your own feet. The image of Jacob you drew on the sand has been washed off—it’s your fault for drawing it too close to the shore.

Autumn makes its way here; the scent of rotting leaves, bruised fruits that fall from trees, and the breeze that hits your cheeks. You stand under a tree whose branches are perched with twig nests. They hold flocks of birds, ready to keep themselves warm during the season. The birds huddle up and chirp away tunes—they remind you of what you don’t have.

Then, a swingset creaks, and you are snapped out of your trance. A few meters away from you is a playground, one you don’t get to play in as much as you’d like, and in the middle of it a boy who looks down to the floor. He grips the rope with his blue sweater hands but doesn’t bother to swing.

With nowhere to go, your feet bring you to him. He pays no attention to you for he doesn’t notice you. But suddenly, he hears the rustling from the swing beside him. And when his eyes drift upwards, he finds you, seated and eyes trained on him. It’s surreal to him; to be graced by the talk amongst his classmates, the kid whose father runs a staple within the town. He doesn’t know what to say, but you don’t allow him to worry.

“Does your mom go to school like you?” He’s perplexed by your question. How did you know of him and his mother? “I see you two going to school together, always thirty minutes before classes start.”

He nods. “Yeah,” his voice is shaky. “She’s a teacher.”

“That’s cool!” Interest is evident in your tone. You move the swing side-to-side, going against the direction it typically goes. “Do you like her there?” Your eyes remain on him, and heat rises to his cheeks. He’s already shy, to begin with, and your stare only has his heart running.

And he would’ve settled with nonverbal responses, either shaking or nodding his head, but he’s not sure what compels him to answer. “I do,” he whispers, a shy smile on his face. He looks away from you, afraid to look back at you. “I like seeing her.”

He hears you hum for a moment. Then, silence settles between you two.

He thinks he should say more. Maybe he should tell you of all the trips his mom would take to the faculty’s cafeteria whose food is to die for. But when he glances at you, he sees your hands preoccupied with peeling a fruit—a tangerine. Stubby, nimble fingers peel the rind off, exposing its orange-colored flesh covered in strings of white. “I wish I could say the same.” A sigh follows with a bittersweet smile.

He watches you tear a piece, and suddenly, your eyes meet his. You raise it to him, the bittersweet smile now replaced with a genuine one, and say, “Have one.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and the flesh you hold in between your fingers, and you can’t help but giggle. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” And when he sees your smile—feels the warmth you emit in the middle of autumn—all worries slip away.

He grabs the tangerine slice and eats it. With just one bite, the juice bursts in his mouth; the citrus taste coats his tongue. A grin is on his face as he chews away.

“Eomma taught me how to peel tangerines,” you start. “She says I’m getting old, and that I should learn how to do it myself.” He looks at you only to see your eyes staring off to nowhere. How can you be old when you’re only ten years old? He didn’t even know how to peel fruits himself.

“But it’s okay. Not a lot of kids knew how to peel tangerines.” It’s almost as if you could hear his thoughts; he didn’t know if he should be petrified or amazed. Such a difficult task and you knew how to do it—perhaps his mom didn’t teach him how to do it so that he could meet you.

Before you know it, a woman grabs onto your arm. Your eyes snap towards her. “What did I tell you about walking off?!” Her tone is harsh. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are pulled to stand up. As the woman drags you away, you glance at him. “I’ll see you in school, Cobie!” He never told you his name, and yet, you found the perfect nickname for him. As your mom tugs you away from him, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Perhaps autumn brought you what you needed the most.

Ever since Jacob denied your offer, you weren’t sure how to act around him. He worked in your dad’s restaurant, and you offered to help them prepare for the party. It’s awkward, that’s for sure, and your dad could notice it. (Though, he never bothered to comment.) But you watch him all the way from the other side of the communal area, observing how he talks to an unfamiliar face.

“How are you enjoying your vacation?” Your eyes dart to where your father is. You’re sure he saw you looking at Jacob, but you can only hope he won’t bring it up.

You sigh as you carry a steel tray filled with kimchi. “Boring, really.” He only shows you an apologetic smile. “I like to work, you know me...”

He hums. “You know, it’s important to take time to rest.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you set the tray down on the table. “I’d be happy if you choose to stay.” To your father, it seemed like you being on leave (or you guess unemployed) would be the only way to have you stay here. You don’t blame him for wanting to try for you know it comes from a place of love, concern, yearning. But even ten years later, you still cannot find a reason to stay here.

“Appa,” you turn to face him. The apologetic smile is now replaced with pleading eyes—it’s hope. “I don’t like not doing anything, you of all people know that.” You’re a motor, one that needs to remain on, and feels the urge to always be on the go. Call it being a workaholic, you couldn’t stand the idea of not doing anything related to work.

And before your father can say anymore, a booming voice sounds throughout the venue. “Jacob! Sangyeon!” Your eyes snap to see Haknyeon hugging the two. Before you know it, his eyes settle on you. “And Y/N!” He rushes to you with a grin on his face. “You decided to show up after all!”

“Well, I want to help Appa out,” you chuckle.

“Abeoji, let me help, too!” Despite what your father says, Haknyeon walks off to grab some more trays.

Your dad sighs. “Haknyeon, always the one helping out.” A grin rests on your lips. He’s still the same boy you know after all. At least some things remain the same.

Before you know it, night comes, and the venue is filled with more residents. Most of them knew each other, talking amongst themselves as they filled their stomachs with food your dad made; it was a sight to behold. But most of all, you can remember the expression on some of their faces when they recognized who you were.

“It’s been forever!”

“You’ve grown up well! What do you do now?”

“You’re back? Since when?”

Admittedly, most of them weren’t expecting your return. You couldn’t disagree with them; you thought the same as well. After all, you moved all your things to Seoul. Still, the people who saw you grow up here were happy to see that you’ve come back, even if it may be for a few weeks. (That’s if you find a job in time.) But even in a sea of familiar faces, you feel out of place. Ten years spent refusing to contact any of them; it’s only expected that your absence would have you as the odd one out.

And you thought you would be okay with it, for you know that you’ll be going back to Seoul anyway. It’s okay if you’ve lost a home in this town for there was none to begin with anyway—no, there was. It would be wrong to say that there’s no trace of home here when the one person who provided you with that for eight years stands on the other side of the venue. He talks to Haknyeon, Sangyeon, and other faces you didn’t know the names of. The smile plastered on his face is one you haven’t received in a long time.

The waves crash against you; they tip your balance and drag your body into the unknown waters. And suddenly, the murky liquid fills your lungs. The bulbs that hang above you become streaks of yellow, and the ringing in your ears tunes out the music and chatter of residents. And before you know it, your feet are taking you elsewhere—anywhere—so long as it’s far from here.

You’re not sure how long you’ve spent walking, or what path you took. All you know is that you’re back here at the playground—the same one you first met Jacob. You find yourself seated on the same swing; it’s definitely smaller but you make it work. The thumping of your heart is all you can hear, and your eyes shut close. A shaky breath leaves you.

Swing. Chain. Steel. Tray. Silver. Jewelry. Sapphire. Blue. Water. Sand. Sun. Warmth. Home—Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. It always goes back to him. Your eyes peel open and they settle on the red slide a few meters away from you.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Slide. Red. Plastic. Short.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You repeat the action.

The palpitations start to subside, and you can hear your breath become steady. Your brain is exhausted. Today, the waves were stronger—you can only hope the current dies down.

“Why are you here?” Your heart jumps at the sudden voice. As you look at where it comes from, you see Jacob whose hands are tucked in his pockets. His expression is laced with some emotion—you can’t pinpoint it.

With his eyes staring back at yours, you can’t help but feel the need to spill it all out—fears, worries, the ugly truth about you. Maybe it’s the effects of your recent attack that have you in your most vulnerable state, but all you know is that you would do anything to go back to the way things used to be. All you want is to find that piece of home in this godforsaken town.

But your silence is enough to make a frown appear on his eyebrows, and you remember that this isn’t the Jacob you first knew. In front of you is a distant one—the realistic version of the house you’ve run away from—and you’re snapped back to your hardened state.

“I didn’t know we were talking.” The tone is harsh; the venom laced with your words shocks you. You notice how Jacob flinches at your response, and you wish you could take it back—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that—but he doesn’t allow you to talk.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone.” He tongues the inside of his cheek. “I don’t even know why I bothered following you here,” he mumbles; it strikes a chord within you, and you stand up.

“What’s with you? Why do you suddenly have this attitude with me?” Your frown gets deeper with every question you throw at him. Jacob used to struggle with his anger issues, you know that, but he found ways to resolve it around middle school. Jacob, who used to have a short fuse, turned into one who knew how to control his patience; it seemed like he lost that control over your years away. The boy in front of you almost seems like the version you first knew all while being one you had no clue—a living oxymoron. “I mean, what did I do to deserve this?”

With that one question, something in him snaps. The frown gets deeper, and his hands leave his pockets. “Are you seriously asking me that?” He crosses his arms. “How do you expect me to talk to you after what you did? To someone who just got up and left?” Your face starts to relax, and you only stare at him—the one boy you’ve upset and disappointed the most.

“Y/N, you left with no message!” His hand reaches out to his face, covering his mouth for a moment as he looks away. “You didn’t even bother to keep in touch! How can you change your number right after leaving?” His eyes meet yours; they’re filled with anger, frustration, regret. “I can’t believe you would throw years of friendship away.”

Thunder sounds within you. “Jacob, you of all people know why I left,” you scoff. “Don’t make this about you. I had every reason to leave and you know it, so don’t try to turn this whole situation about you.”

An exasperated sigh leaves him. “You can’t just come back here, ten years later, and expect me to be okay! I have every right to be upset by your disappearance.” He clenches his teeth. “You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“I didn’t have the choice—”

“No, you always have the choice. Don’t try to play that card with me right now.”

Lightning strikes within you; it rumbles and shakes the ground. The river moves at a rapid speed, enough to leave bruises if you were to dip your feet into it. And the fire within you continues to grow, causing everything to erupt into flames. It didn’t matter if Jacob was right or wrong—all you know is that you’re upset with him.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk to me without being pissy about it, then let’s not talk. I’m going home.” His angered expression falters. “Handle the party yourself.” Before he knows it, you take your leave. It’s possibly the worst thing you could do. You knew they were low on manpower, but you could care less about anyone, about him, for the matter.

With your back turned towards him, you walk to the house you were forced to stay in. And with every step, the sea level rises. The walk back is a tough journey; every step in high levels of water makes it difficult. And when you stand in front of the building that reeks of a scent only you can smell, you wish the water would fill your lungs and submerge your body—it’ll take you away from this place, after all. In this town, not a single trace of home exists.

#works of moni #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #the boyz #jacob bae #the boyz x reader #jacob bae x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #jacob bae angst #jacob bae fluff #of guitar strings and peeled tangerines (i’ll bruise my fingers just for you)

47 notes · View notes