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#so be prepared for a lovely angst all about stories and books
targaryenluvs · 3 months
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— A WHOLE NEW WORLD
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pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader
summary: in which you and percy navigate a whole other world, and encounter trials in the way.
warnings: angst, bullying mentions, teasing, physical violence courtesy of clarisse my bae, drowning, confessions, fluff, hugs, smooches, percy n you are a comedic duo i swear, basically a self insert, not proof read
wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: i’m insane, this is the longest thing ive ever written. so please reblog and interact <3
you’d grown up with the same stories percy had. the greek gods and goddesses, their lives and tales, their failures and secrets. what you didn’t expect was to be the child of one.
you, percy and grover were currently on a field trip, and you couldn’t have been happier. all around you was history, and you were fascinated by it all. breaking away from them, you viewed the tallest of statues and the intricate, taking your phone out secretly and snapping a photo to show your mother later.
you were dragged out of your fairytale by laughter, and percy’s scowl evident on his face as you made your way over. “i don’t know if you have a miserable home life or just enjoy being a bitch but this trip would be much more enjoyable without your annoying voice.” you sneered before shining a fake smile her way. percy’s laugh in your ear made you join in, but the reprimand afterwards dulled your mood.
you weren’t a big fan of bullies, especially when they targeted your friends. for some reason you obtained a boost of confidence and a need to protect your own friends from such people yet you couldn’t defend yourself on your best day.
the trio of you sat, eating your lunches, you were inhaling your favourite food much to the amusement of grover and percy. “i don’t think your food is running off y/n.” grover teased as you shoved his arm, “i know, but i’ve been waiting for so long, i didn’t eat anything this morning, i was too excited.” percy turned his head towards you, “you were excited?” you nodded, “for a museum?” you waved him off, returning to your food.
but not before nancy launched a sandwich percy’s way, you’d had enough, and so had he. the two of you got up despite grover’s protests, and somehow she ended up in the fountain, even though percy hadn’t touched her. you’d been lost in the crowd around the fountain and once you’d broken out you found percy on the ground.
“perce! percy are you okay?” you tried to shake him awake to no avail, so you did the next best thing, slapping him awake. twice should do it. his eyes opened, focusing in on you, “i’m here, i’m fine, i know you care about me.” relieved, yet annoyed you hit his shoulder before you and grover helped him up.
and when he did wake up he spoke about what he saw. on the walk to your hearing percy went into detail. and you couldn’t help but feel scared, what the hell was going on?
and the two of you stuck with the story of nancy throughout, feeling betrayed when grover went against you. your own parents were out of town and you were freshly kicked out of school, percy’s home was also your own. you prepared yourself before the two of you entered the apartment, gabe wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes.
and soon enough yourself, percy and his mother were headed for montauk. you’d left over twenty four messages for your parents but it seemed none of them had made their way through.
“so all the stories, they’re all true?” percy was fast asleep in the front seat, and the book in your hands wasn’t all that interesting. sally nodded, “i know it’s all a lot for the two of you to take in,” if percy was a demigod, then were you too? “what am i? who’s my parent then? are my parents my parents? am i adopted?” sally stopped at the intersection abruptly, turning towards you with a sad smile, “sweetheart, it doesn’t matter. your parents love you no matter what, i know it. you’ll learn everything with time, i’ll tell you more when we’re all inside okay?”
the water droplets on the window were plentiful, some big, some small, some new and others falling. the storm outside was looming, loud and dark, but it seemed to bring you comfort in all honesty, you loved the rain. and as you sat and drove all you could think of was your future, and what it had in store for you.
you’d been in the kitchen whilst listening into sally explain to percy about his parentage, the gods and goddesses. you were sure if you heard anymore you’d pass out. percy’s outburst led you back to them.
“well i’m not a baby! i know there’s no such thing as monsters, i know there’s no such thing as gods and i know for certain that there’s no such thing as demigods.” the hand on percy’s shoulder brought him back down, “percy, why would your mother lie to you? no one on this earth loves you more than her, i think we should listen.” his face was riddled with confusion, “you’re telling me you believe this crap?”
before the conversation could get heated, grover’s appearance interrupted. “what the hell are you doing here? how did you get here?” grover sighed, as much as he wanted to explain he needed you all to get moving, “i promise i’ll explain everything but somethings coming,” percy and yourself took a step back, “grover.”
“and i know that sounds really bad,”
“grover?” he brushed the two of you off, continuing to ramble at sally.
“but the important thing is not to panic—”
“i’m not panicking.” sally rested her hands on her hip, “great! i’m also definitely not panicking. i feel very good about how we’re doing so far—” you closed your eyes, maybe when you opened them it’d go away. “grover!” you and percy shouted out at the same time, “what?”
you pointed towards his legs as percy spoke up, “why is there half a goat in your pants?” his legs were bare, mist not around.
as if the day couldn’t have gotten any crazier or exhausting for you and percy grover all of a sudden showed up and you were all on the move. sally was punching the accelerator, whilst grover continued to explain, “what are you?” grover turned to face you, “i’m a satyr. and i’m your protector. i was assigned to you but we didn’t know that y/n was special like you, so i guess i’m sort of protecting you both.”
“you’re my protector? and what y/n doesn’t get one?” you laughed, “no offence but i think i’m alright perce. if you’re our protector than shouldnt you have protected us at school? against nancy?”
“i protect you against actual evil,” you snorted, “the only evil is nancy’s personality, that should count.” percy managed a smile at your words. “if i hadn’t gotten you kicked out of school, you’d have never survived the night. and what’s chasing us now would have found you there easily.” it was like a truckload of information all at once, you felt like you were in a movie.
“the mist. it’s the veil that hides the magical world from the human world. my legs. dodds’ wings. even dodds’ absence, but it isn’t supposed to hide things from me. that never happens. something powerful is at work here. the sooner we get you two to camp, the better off you���re… you told them about camp, right?” grover looked towards sally for an answer as you moved his hand away from your face. grover tended to move them around when talking about something he was passionate about.
“not yet, no.” sally shook her head as you smiled, “you’re early remember?”
“camp is a sanctuary for half-bloods.” great now you were going to a summer camp. the more he divulged the more you began to understand. you’d always been told you were special, percy especially. you should’ve known you were meant for more. demi gods were never safe, that was obvious by the huge monster behind the car.
“is that the minotaur?”
“once the attacks start, they never let up. okay? dodds was just the beginning.” you twisted your body to get another look at it, “okay well if we’re being chased than maybe less talking and more runnin, driving, whatever just go!” you shouted out, your heart was ramming against your chest, your hands felt warm and jittery. you needed to move, to do something, you hated just sitting and relying on a car. you zoned out in time for percy’s regular jokes.
“he is still wearing underpants.” you giggled at him, “i wonder what size.”
“the mythomagic cards were training. everything has been training for what’s still ahead of you, and i know wherever percy goes, you go.” you rolled your eyes, “i always hated those stupid cards, guess i should’ve played huh?” percy cocked his head, “what’s ahead of me? of us?”
“kids,” you all turned to sally, her knuckles were turning pale white, an unrelenting grip on the wheel, “hold on, please.” you clutched on to the seatbelt and seats as you all were jolted around, dodging a car and attempting to evade the minotaur, which wasn’t exactly all that easy as he rammed into the car, horns penetrating sallys window.
she fought for control, her foot pressing down on the accelerator before you all ended up crashing.
the ground was wet and mushy, you felt dirt gather underneath your fingertips as you crawled out of the car. you could see sally helping percy out as grover made his way out. your leg was aching, a shard of glass caused a gash in your thigh and dragging it along the floor hurt like a bitch, “ah, shit!” you rolled over onto your back.
percy’s eyes darted towards you the second you cried out, “y/n!” he dashed towards you, sally and grover in tow. “are you okay? what happened? where does it hurt?” his eyes were frantic and his hands unsure, the sight of you hurt was more than enough to worry him. “i’m fine, i just, if we take the shard out and tie something around then it’ll stop the bleeding right?”
percy shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, hoping it would clear it out, the whole situation was already stressful but his best friend injured? an absolute nightmare. “i— i don’t know! mom! what do we do?” he shouted as sally grabbed your jumper from inside, “move aside percy, let me help.” he didn’t want to, percy wanted to stay right by your side, but he knew she could help you where he couldn’t.
the make shift tourniquet did the job thankfully, but you were in and out from the loss of blood, the last thing you recall was sally jackson in the hands of the minotaur, and suddenly, gone.
your voice was stuck, trapped in your throat. your eyes stung immensely, waterline flooded. she was family to you, one of the sweetest people, supportive. and just like that, erased, just dust. your eyes searched your surroundings for percy, to see him, to help him, but all you could view was darkness as it took you far away.
the last thing you’d heard was grover yelling out for the two of you, “stay awake! please!” his pleads were unmet, as you were whisked away to a world of sleep.
the light was harsh on your eyes having just woken up, at least your bed was comfortable. but you still had no clue where you were. your body was stiff, needing to move around. as you shuffled to sit a voice called out for you.
“y/n!” you turned to see percy peering through the window, a large smile on his face as he promptly ran inside to you. “percy.” his arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing hardly. “you’re killing me here.” you croaked out as he let go, taking a step back.
“i’m sorry. do you need something? are you hungry?”
“that i am, where are we?”
“camp half-blood, welcome y/n l/n.” an older boy spoke up from the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning on the frame. “luke.” percy recognised the boy, which made you feel at ease, “hi luke.” he smiled, “hey, how are you feeling?” you sighed lifting the blanket up and resting your feet on the floor, attempting to rise from the bed. “like i need to walk a bunch, is there food around?”
luke nodded his head before signalling you to follow, “is your leg okay?” the pain had lessened since the initial hit but it was still sore, “i think i’ll be okay, might have a limp. i can be a zombie for halloween maybe.” percy was glad you were making jokes, seemingly back to normal.
the camp was everything you could have dreamed of. straight out of the pages of a book or out of a movie, amazing scenery, nice enough people, and insane skills amongst them. you had no clue how you’d fit in. you’d settled into hermes’ cabin, your bag and bed next to percy’s.
“so, how long have you been awake?” you were pushing down on your mattress with your hands, testing the springs. the bed wasn’t as soft as you’d have liked it to be but you couldn’t exactly buy a new one.
“let’s go outside and talk.” percy muttered, leading the way. you were sat down behind the cabin now, percy slowly sliding down the wall to be next to you.
“i only woke up a few minutes before you, i saw chiron he’s a—something. and i met the camp director mr d, dionysus by the way. they wouldn’t let me go back into the infirmary until we finished talking.”
“why’d you want to come back so quickly?”
“your bracelet was missing, i didn’t know where it was so i was freaking out. anyways i saw the camp a little, and i came back for it and you were awake. i got, i got scared before.” percy couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, he felt nervous admitting it, his worry for you. your smile was wide as you recalled his own worry for the bracelet you’d made him.
“what? why?” he exhaled, his hands playing with his shirt, “i— i thought you wouldn’t wake up maybe.” you grabbed his hand, “i’m right here, there’s nothing to worry about perce. how are you feeling?” your voice was barely above a whisper, filled with sympathy and sorrow, you still hadn’t spoken about his mother.
“don’t.” he shook his head whilst averting his gaze, staring down at his hands. “don’t what? i’m not going to force you to talk about i promise, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” percy closed his eyes, “i can’t just,” percy breathed in, working up the courage to meet your eye, he hated the pity on your face, “just forget it, her.” you rested your hand on his neck, bringing him in, “no one’s asking you to percy, if there’s anything you need from me, or if you just want to sit and die of diabetes with every blue food in the world, i’ll be right there.”
“thank you.” his voice came out muffled against your shoulder. you tried your best to comfort him with a hand in his hair, you pulled him back to take a look at him. his eyes were glossy, a few tears had fallen free. using your sleeve you wiped them away, “now what demigod has the time for tears, percy jackson?”
you loved percy best like this, with a grin plastered on his face.
“yknow what we could use?” percy pulled you up from the ground, before you walked back to the cabin. “and what exactly is that m’lady?” you rolled your eyes, “first of all i despise your british accent and second, a nap!”
percy was sweating profusely, his nightmare having jolted him up from his bed. his jittery movements concerned you, book in your hands forgotten as you surged forwards, “perce? you okay?” his eyes were blown and chest heaving, but at the sight of you he relaxed, “yeah, yeah i’m fine.”
“you okay?” luke stood infront of the two of you, arms crossed, “super.” percy snipped back as you swatted his arm, “be nice.” your voice was firm, and you knew how percy was, you’d say sarcasm was probably his middle name if you hadn’t already known it.
“we all have them, you know.” luke clicked his tongue, taking a step closer. “intense, recurring nightmares. that’s normal here.” his words were surprising to you, knowing that yourself and percy rarely fit in.
“and the daydreams, and the ADHD, and dyslexia. demigods just process reality differently, than humans do. for the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.” you let out a sigh, whether of relief or sadness you didn’t know. did you want to fit in? be the same as everyone else? nothing special?
“so are you also… do you not know who your—“ lukes lips pressed into a thin line, knowing what percy insinuated, “am i… unclaimed?” the two of you nodded in unison, “no, hermes is my father. that doesn’t matter, we’re all on the same team here.”
percy’s agitation was obvious, as well as reasonable and it was exactly how you felt. “each kid is brought here and made to wait around until their parent decides to pick up the phone? pick up— whatever. how is that fair?“ percy nodded along, “she’s right, why is that okay? why do they get to bring us here to just ignore some of us?” you did feel bad for luke, you felt as if the two of you were bombarding him with questions and expecting him to hold all of life’s answers.
“spend too much time trying to figure out why the gods do whatever it is they do, you’ll drive yourself crazy. sooner you stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer.”
percy’s interest piqued, “and what’s that?”
“glory.”
you’d spent hours trying different things. percy almost hit a bunch of campers with an arrow, whilst you’d hit the bullseye, much to your elation. the both of you were absolutely horrendous at welding, which you figured. the only thing that had stuck with you through out the day was the idea of offerings. and you knew percy was thinking the same thing.
the smell of fire invaded your senses as percy threw in the thing that meant most, whilst you sat by him and wondered if it would actually work, would she be able to hear you? you’d zoned out for a bit, feeling as if you were intruding whilst he talked.
“i hope you’re sitting down, but… i think… i’ve made some friends here. like, real friends. y/n and i, we might actually fit in for once.” you beamed at the thought, yet not wanting to interrupt so you settled for nudging his shoulder to which he smiled at you, “i think they might really like me. imagine that. he isn’t here. my father, he just… didn’t show. i mean, ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn’t get to ignore you. i’m gonna make him come down here. i’m gonna make him see me, i’m gonna make him see us both.” and with that he blew out the fire, a small flicker of hope ignited inside.
“we’re going to get her back percy, i swear.”
and that was the end of your pleasant night, the reign of terror, clarisse and others were infront of your cabin. and that’s where your night went haywire.
you and percy were thrown to the floor roughly, landing on your bad thigh caused you to shout in pain. “aw, does someone have a scratch? where’d you get it from? the minotaur?” the girl was blonde, and you had no clue who she was but her mocking tone made you want to punch her in the face.
“do you think you’re special? better than everyone else?”
“no.”
“tell me you made it all up about the minotaur, and I’ll let you go. maybe to impress your friend here? you practically have heart eyes when you look at her.” clarisse approached you, “don’t touch her!” percy shouted as clarisse chuckled, “why not? you gonna stop me?”
“he didn’t make anything up.” you responded to her question since percy hadn’t, with her harsh glare you prayed for the earth to swallow you whole. “she’s right, i didn’t make anything up.” clarisse was hoping for truthfulness from percy, she couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or happy, she could teach him a lesson.
“some kids gotta learn the hard way.” the two other girls charged towards percy before abruptly walking around him, dragging you up by the elbows. “hey! if you’re mad at me then hurt me! don’t touch her! let her go!” clarisse held percy back as the girls forced you to your knees, “guys i appreciate the sentiment but i’m not all that thirsty.” please tell me this wasn’t used recently.
percy thrashed around in her grip, desperate to save you, “you really like her don’t you? not a single ounce of fight in you when it’s your ass on the line but for her,” his chest heaved, and his hands clenched, he wasn’t commonly violent, but a beat down on clarisse seemed amazing right about now.
“get off her! y/n!” your eyes were clenched shut in an attempt to prepare yourself, holding your breath, yet nothing happened. when you peeled your eyes open you were met with an empty toilet bowl.
“please tell me you guys didn’t drink it yourselves.” if it wasn’t already an indication of her irritation based on the scowl on her face the second-grade ‘you stole my swing’ type of pull at your hair dragged you back to younger self. but what really awakened you were the three tentacle like forms of water, “what the hell?” the harsh collision of your back on the wall saved you from the attack. the girls all staggered around, careful of the water before scurrying out.
percy rushed over to you, hands cradling your face, “are you okay? did they hurt you? you didn’t touch the water did you?” you raised your hand to cut off percy’s rambling, “i’m fine, but what the hell was that?” he shook his head, “not a single idea in my head.” percy slumped opposite of you, “there’s not much in your head either way.” percy placed his hand on his heart, feigning shock and hurt, “how dare you!” your giggles rejuvenated percy, your smile was all he needed to be happy again.
the figure of someone at the door caused you to shoot up, careful of the water, you saw annabeth come into view. crap.
“we can explain.” you both held up your hands, caught at the scene of the crime and afraid of the consequences. “no, you can’t.” percy nodded in agreement, “okay,” the girls face resonated with percy, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he tried to recall how, “wait, I know you.”
annabeth shrugged her shoulders, “no, you don’t.” percy stepped forwards infront of you, directly inline with her, “yeah, but you were there. that night in the infirmary.” you couldn’t recall seeing her there when you woke up, “i don’t think she was, i don’t remember seeing you.” anabeth peered down at her shoes before returning to the conversation.
“yes. i’m annabeth.” she introduced herself, you’d heard of her a bit from other campers, daughter of athena.
“are you stalking us, annabeth?”
“yes.” her bluntness was something you didn’t expect. “okay. why?” you inquired further, “well, i’ve been waiting to see if something like this would happen. “so i’d know if you can help me.”
“you’ve been waiting for me to get my head in a toilet and for percy to be manhandled? well, girlhandled.” percy was confused, “help you do what?”
“win capture the flag.”
the helmets weren’t exactly the most comfortable but you figured keeping your brain in your skull was more crucial.
you walked next to luke with percy on the left of him, “you’re gonna love this. campwide mock warfare, all glory to the victors. annabeth’s the head counselor of the athena cabin. she’s led our team to three straight wins. been a long time since anyone’s won a fourth.”
“she was there in the bathroom, she said she’d been waiting for it to happen.”
“annabeth sees the world differently. always six steps ahead of everyone else. you should cut her a break.” you scoffed, “cut her a break for what? her life seems perfectly fine.” luke shook his head, “not everything’s as it seems y/n.”
“whose side are you on, anyway?”
luke stopped and turned towards percy, “oh, hers, always. she’s my little sister. maybe I should back up.” you nodded, “i think we should sit down if we’re going to be getting an origin story here.”
luke’s entire story of how he and annabeth got to camp made you regret your earlier comments of an easy life. she’d been fighting since she was a child, it’s all she’s known. “she’s been watching us since we got here. why?”
“annabeth is the strongest warrior in camp, the only way left to prove herself is to go on a quest.”
“and what does this have to do with us?”
“chiron’s been promising her for years. one day, a demigod would arrive who was fated to go on a quest that even chiron couldn’t prevent. and when that happened, she could join it. every new arrival, or, arrivals in your case, annabeth watches, looking for a sign they’re the one. usually, she gives up after a day or two, but she’s still watching you two.”
“can you ask her to knock it off?” as much as you hated to admit it, she did kind of freak you out, “i agree, we’re not going on some magical quest any time soon.”
“yeah, sure. but you never know, what if she’s right?” the conch shell blowing in the distance alerted you all.
it was battle time.
as you walked behind luke you couldn’t help your nervousness, which percy always noticed. “hey,” his voice was soft and reassuring, a hand on your shoulder, “we’re gonna be fine, it’s just a friendly game. we’ve won three times and we’re going to get a fourth since they have us brilliant additions of course.” percy literally bowed in front of you as if being applauded for a performance as you chuckled, “oh please, you cant win with idiocy percy.”
“that is extremely offensive! how many times have i beaten you in monopoly?”
“ohh, you want to talk about monopoly mr bank robber? do you honestly think no one noticed when you randomly turn in broken change and grab even more bigger notes? or the fact that three houses does not make a hotel!” clarisse watched the two of you fool around from afar, she was going to make you pay.
the pebble you’d thrown clattered against percy’s armour, “hey! what was that for?” you groaned out loud, your head lolling back, meeting the log. “if you keep flossing i’m going to push you myself perce. you need to take this more serious—” the girls surrounded you from every angle, swords in hand as you rose from the floor, your own sword clutched tightly.
“flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” her spear crackled as they all surged forwards, time to fight, it’s now or never.
clarisse’s scream was deafening. “so much for friendly huh?” percy shook his head, “not now! you can tell me how wrong i was when we’re out of here.” for some reason once they’d begun their attack, you’d never felt more alive. as if you were born for this, to fight. every sword and hit that came your way was met with double the force, hurling people backwards as you tried to make your way to percy’s side. one of the girls was sly, managing to corner you on the boardwalk near by.
her knee, she’s weak in the knees.
the voice echoed through your head, as if compelled you followed up on it as the girl went down almost immediately. thank you very much random voice! the sound of cheers floated through the air as you saw luke plant the flag in the ground.
4 — 0.
perhaps you’d been distracted by the people, or maybe it was percy being held by his armour courtesy of clarisse. either way you didn’t notice the girl lunging your way, not until the cold water engulfed your body.
you’d never learnt to properly swim.
percy’s footsteps drummed through the air, each step heavy and weighed down with purpose. he had to get to you, now. the second you’d hit the water he was on the ground running. it had only been about five seconds at most yet percy was already at your previous spot, diving in head first.
act now, think later.
your eyesight was blurry as the two of you resurfaced, the first thing you spotted the crowd on the shoreline, they waited with bated breath, your team cheering once the two of you were back up. “i’m so sorry, i said i would protect you but clarisse— i was so scared when i saw you get pushed, i think i froze up. i should’ve listened to you, i should’ve taken it more seriously. this is all my fault.” he was holding onto your face for dear life, afraid to let go.
percy had dived head first into the water for you, no hesitation. he put himself at risk for you. he always knew what to say and what to do. percy was your person. you’d been an idiot, why’d it take so long for you to realise what you knew deep down?
you love percy jackson. and not in a friend way, in a love way. in the best way.
your lips were pressed on his in seconds, you weren’t in a hurry, not desperate, not messy. just passionate and deep, as if you were trying to convey your feelings through it. you were simultaneously trying your hardest to remember this moment. percy’s cold hands on your cheeks, both of you sopping wet, nothing else mattered to you, until he kissed back. percy on the other hand was desperate, he’d been waiting for so long, settling for the title of best friend. he had you in his arms, he’d already lost his own mother, he wasn’t going to lose his other half.
his hair tousled, curls sticking to his face, yours dripping wet, hands on your neck as you clutched his. “what are we percy?” he grinned, “whatever we want to be.” the pair of you may have forgotten the fact that you were currently surrounded by campers, but the deafening cheers and shouts of support warmed your heart. surely a kiss didn’t elicit such a reaction? yes it did, but also the fact that a trident loomed over percy’s head.
percy jackson, son of poseidon.
the two of you walked with a literal army of people, friends, even. for once you both felt as if you belonged.
luke was unbearable, taking any chance he could to tease the two of you, “my little campers, all grown up.” he fake-cried, wiping false tears from his eyes as you poked him, “now if we can find someone then where’s your partner pal?” percy laughed, “please never say pal again.” you turned his way, scrunching your nose, “doesn’t work does it?” he shook his head as the three of you chuckled.
“but seriously, you two are made for each other, i’m happy for you.” as you reached the cabin you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged luke by surprise, “thank you. we’ll be in soon, we just have a bit to talk about.” luke made his way inside as the two of you turned to walk away but not before hearing him call out, “keep your hands to yourself percy!” percy rolled his eyes as you smiled.
the two of you sat at the boardwalk again, feet dangling off. you’d been discussing the quest, as well as the fact that it was only undertaken by three.
“so, you, me, anabeth and grover. percy i know school sucks but if you could count those names on your fingers for me please.” percy groaned as you laughed at your own joke, “i know, i know. but i figure four heads are better than three.” your legs swung back and forth as you shrugged your shoulders, “we could fold grover into a box and take him with us secretly.” percy suggested.
“yeah, maybe.” your voice was quieter than before, eliciting concern from percy, “hey? you okay?” you were fidgeting again, this time with the black bracelet you’d made for him. he met your eyes with a smile as he lifted your head by the chin.
“i promise, i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” and for once you could feel how serious he was, “thank you perce, you— have been apart of my life since i was little. i don’t think there’s a single person i trust more on this planet than you. i’m sorry, for everything you’ve gone through. i swear, we’re going to make it out of this. we’re going to find your mother, we’re going to find the lighting bolt, and everything can return to normal. well, besides the fact that we’re all demigods and all.” the laughter was bittersweet, a moment of peace before you embarked on the quest.
“you’re beautiful you know that?” he whispered to you, as if he was afraid for others to hear. you grinned at his words, leaning in towards him as he followed, “i know, you make it a point to tell me at least once a day. but you, percy, are as gorgeous as the calm seas.”
you wiggled your finger in his face as he swatted it away, “if i had known my girlfriend was a poet i would’ve had every word of yours written down.” you felt fuzzy, warm. with percy you felt a million ways, all of them good.
as cheesy as he was you loved him.
“look at us, exploring a whole new world.”
“did you just aladdin me?”
“yup, do you think they have a flying carpet here?”
“why so zeus can strike it down when he’s angry? i feel like the gods are all little kids throwing temper tantrums.” percy shushed you, “they might be listening.” he joked as you punched him.
“i hope they are. so they know, we’re coming for them.”
“holy shit that was a badass line.”
“perce?”
“yeah?”
“you’re ruining it.”
1K notes · View notes
shibaraki · 4 months
Text
THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI
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tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending
wc: 4.2K
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For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.
The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.
In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.
You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.
That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.
The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.
“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.
The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.
Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.
Everybody would be there.
Tsukishima would be there.
You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.
You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?
Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.
“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.
You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.
“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.
“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.
“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”
Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.
Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.
Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.
Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.
“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”
Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.
“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”
Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.
“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.
“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.
“I read your book on the plane”.
Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”
“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.
Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.
“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.
“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.
Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.
“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”
“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”
Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.
“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.
Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”
Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.
An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.
Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.
Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.
You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure”.
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.
You regret it not two minutes later.
Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.
It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.
You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.
“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.
A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.
You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.
Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.
The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.
“So, uh. How’ve you been?”
Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.
You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”
“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.
“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”
Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”
You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.
Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”
There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.
“You don’t read Volleyworld”.
“How would you know that?”
Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.
Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.
Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’
You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.
Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.
Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?
“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.
Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.
“You cried at The Land Before Time”.
“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”
Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.
In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.
“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.
“I remember”.
Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.
“Do you remember the song that was playing?”
“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”
There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.
You remember.
Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.
“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.
Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.
You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.
What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.
You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.
“Hey, Tsukki?”
He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.
“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.
Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.
The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.
He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.
“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.
You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.
“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.
“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.
“This okay?”
In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”
“Hm?”
“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.
You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.
“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.
“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.
“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.
“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.
You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.
“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.
You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.
His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.
Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.
It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.
This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.
Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.
For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.
But love doesn’t only exist in stories.
You remember that, now.
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833 notes · View notes
uramakimochi · 2 months
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my man my man my man my man🤤
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WHERE YOU TRULY BELONG TO
Monkey D Luffy x Reader
Warnings: semi-long story i hope it doesn't bore you lol, fluff+little bit of angst, use of Y/n, fem!R who is a bit of a crybaby but everyone cries in this anime so idc. It should be an established relationship, but if it doesn't show it's because i believe that Luffy is not the kind of person that shows his love by openly saying "I love you" or calling you with petnames, i think he'd just do affectionate gestures that are completely normal for him.
This story is not canon, it has nothing to do with the anime/manga, but i took inspiration from the film Strong World. I'm sorry if this is shit, it actually took me a lot of time because i absolutely had no fantasy so i hope this came out at least decent lol. I invented the villain because yes and Y/n plays the part of the damsel in distress like Nami also because yes. I just like the stories where the hero saves the princess🤭
English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.
///
The Strawhats were traveling along the calm sea aboard the Sunny. Franky was at the helm while Brook played some sweet background music for the day, Nami was taking care of her orange trees, and Robin was reading a book on a lawn chair. Zoro was training alone, Usopp and Chopper were fishing from the edge of the ship, while Sanji had prepared some drinks to serve to everyone.
Finally, on the lion-shaped figurehead of the Sunny, Luffy was lying on his back, with his arms and legs open as if he were a starfish. You were sitting next to his body and while he had his eyes fixed on the blue sky, you alternated your gaze from the sea to his face, smiling. There wasn't a conversation between the two of you at the time, but that was okay. Although Luffy was one of the most extroverted and talkative people you knew, every now and then even those moments of comfortable silence accompanied you in your intimate moments. For both of them it was enough to be next to each other.
When you turned your head to look at the sea you realized the presence of an island on the horizon, which was getting closer and closer.
“Hey Luffy” you called.
"Mh?"
"I see an island over there. Shall we go and see or continue with our route?"
Luffy sat up, swaying forward. Then he made a thoughtful expression.
"Uhhh... Sounds like fun. I suggest we do some exploring!" He then exclaimed and you smiled, nodding.
So Luffy yelled at Franky to head towards the island and none of the crew protested.
After docking the Sunny, you all leaned out to see what lay before you, which was nothing more than an old abandoned town.
"It seems completely deserted..." Brook muttered.
"Look!" Chopper then exclaimed, pointing his hoof forward. "There's a palace up there!"
The road that ran through the abandoned city led to many flights of stairs that led to a traditional japanese palace built high up in the rocks, overlooking the small island.
"So? Who's going down to take a look?" Nami asked placing her hands on her hips, looking at you one by one. "I'm staying here"
"I-If Nami stays then i'm staying too!" Usopp stuttered with an uncertain smile. "We don't know if that town is truly abandoned. What if it's haunted? What if there are ghosts??"
"G-G-Ghosts?!" Chopper exclaimed in fear, then ran to hide behind Nami's legs. One could therefore guess that he too would remain on board.
"That's so cool!" Luffy then said with bright eyes, starting to jump on the spot. "I wanna see the ghosts!"
"If Luffy goes, i go too" Zoro said.
"I was about to offer to go too, but if there's that idiot of a swordsman then i'll stay here with my beloved Nami" Sanji then said with a grimace.
Zoro gritted his teeth, turning to look at him.
"So much the better, perv cook"
"Say it again if you dare, moss-head!"
While the two were busy bickering as usual, Robin raised a hand.
"I come willingly. In my opinion we can discover something interesting on this island"
"Robin can i come with you?" you continued, standing next to her and the woman smiled at you, nodding.
Don't get it wrong, you loved all of your crewmates, but the two people you had formed the closest relationship with were Luffy and Robin. Robin was like a big sister, almost a mother to you and you had grown very fond of her. From the moment you first joined the crew, she had always tried to make you feel comfortable (I'm sorry but i love her so much she's one of my comfort characters). Luffy on the other hand... Well Luffy was simply Luffy. Luffy was the one who had welcomed you into the crew with open arms without a second thought and his being himself was what was enough to make you fall in love with him.
When Sanji heard your voice, suddenly the argument between him and Zoro disappeared as if by magic and you saw him twirling around with heart-shaped eyes.
"Waah~ if sweet Y/n and beautiful Robin are coming, then i'll come too so i can protect them from the ghosts! Don't worry my ladies, your knight Sanji is here!"
You thanked him with a sheepish smile and Zoro crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.
“How many times do we have to remind you that Y/n is already taken? Tch, you pervert…”
"I'll kill you moss-head!"
///
So it was just the five of you who entered the "haunted" city. The island was abandoned and there wasn't a soul alive, what could have gone wrong?
"Yoo-hoo! Ghosts?! Is anyone here?!" Luffy shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth and looking around.
Sanji kicked him, causing him to fall to the ground.
"Stop screaming like that! You idiot!"
Luffy whined as he rubbed his head and you helped him to his feet, but you didn't say anything to Sanji. It was nothing new that your captain behaved in a childish manner that could get his crewmates into trouble and was scolded for it.
"How about we walk towards the palace?" Zoro then asked. "I believe that we'll find all the answers we seek on this island up there"
You didn't even have time to agree with him before Luffy started running in the direction of the palace with an excited smile.
"Let's gooo!"
And before you could even tell him to wait, he grabbed your hand, dragging you with him, while behind you the other three let out a sigh of exasperation and then they followed you.
Arriving at the foot of the mountain, you raised your head to look at the building above you.
“That's a lot of stairs” you muttered and even though you had no intention of climbing all those steps at all, you knew that with Luffy it was pointless. He would not give you rest until he reached the top.
And after climbing all the steps, you finally arrived at the entrance to the palace. It seemed empty, but its physical appearance did not give the impression of being abandoned at all, like the city.
Suddenly, the lights of the lanterns that decorated the palace all turned on and only in that moment did you realize how the sky, previously clear, was now filled with so many dark clouds that had covered the sun.
“I have a feeling we're not alone” Robin murmured, as around you, a light breeze began to pick up.
Then, a voice.
"WELCOME FOREIGNERS!"
The front doors swung open and a man slowly advanced towards your group.
"It's a pleasure to have guests on our island after so long" the figure said with each step.
Initially you thought you had imagined that voice, but when you saw his face light up under the light of the lanterns, you had the terrible confirmation that unfortunately it was not a hallucination.
Instinctively you approached Luffy and took his hand without saying anything. He turned to look at you, not understanding your sudden behavior, but the voice of the one who had just left the building called his attention.
"Strawhat Luffy, i didn't expect that i would ever meet you in person" the man said opening his arms wide with a fake smile. "Where is the rest of your crew? Why don't you all come to my palace and i'll offer you something to drink?"
Luffy stared at him in silence. Your terrified look and the hand that continued to hold his were making him understand that that guy was not to be trusted at all.
"Tell us who you are first" Zoro said with a firm tone, placing a hand on the handles of his swords. Sanji lit a cigarette instead, looking at him suspiciously.
"Me?" the man asked, turning to look at the swordsman. "Of course, it was rude of me to not introduce myself, you're right. Well i am-"
"Captain Xavier..." you murmured, feeling your heart sink, but your voice was heard by everyone.
It was at that moment that the man noticed your presence, turning towards you and he widened his eyes and then he smiled.
“My dear Y/n~”
Hearing him say your name sent a shiver down your spine.
"Do you know each other?" Sanji asked confused, but neither he nor Zoro noticed Luffy and Robin's surprised looks of realization.
"He... He was... My old captain..." you murmured, looking down at the ground, humiliated.
Put like that, it might seem like a banal and touching moment of reunion between a captain and an old member of his crew. But it wasn't about that at all. The only ones who knew about your past were Robin and Luffy.
Xavier took a step forward towards you and you automatically took one back.
“It's been so long since we've seen each other, my dear” he said with a grin. "All these years i have missed you since the day you left us"
"I-I didn't leave you!" You exclaimed, lifting your head to look at him. "I ran away! Because you were a horrible person!"
Xavier chuckled.
"We're pirates, sweetheart. And pirates aren't good people"
"Yes, they are! Because we are good pirates!" you exclaimed. "We're not horrible and dishonest like you Xavier. We don't kill innocent people!"
You clenched your fist at your side.
“Y-You destroyed my village…” you growled, feeling anger and sadness flood your body in unison. You hadn't felt this way in a long time, but you didn't miss that feeling of agony in your chest at all. "You k-killed my family and... And you took me away, to make me your slave. You are a despicable being, Xavier!"
Sanji and Zoro's eyes widened. Robin looked at you sadly and thought back to the afternoon when you told her everything in front of Sunny's aquarium, with tears in your eyes.
“And so you went to seek refuge among the Strawhats, my dear?” Xavier exclaimed, opening his arms wide with an amused expression. "Led by a skinny brat who thinks he can become the Pirate King! Congratulations, you've really made a big step forward!"
Xavier started laughing loudly and you looked at him with teary eyes. You didn't care how much he insulted you, but you hated how he was making fun of Luffy, he had no idea of his strength.
"My dear little Y/n" the man then said once he stopped laughing "Why don't you leave this bunch of losers and come back to us, mh? We all know that is your true place"
Your eyes widened when you saw him approaching you again, but suddenly Luffy stepped in front of you with a step and he raised his head to look at him.
“Stay away from her” he said menacingly, glaring at him from the shadow of his straw hat.
Xavier remained silent, but then he smirked, not at all intimidated by Luffy's presence.
“Oh my dear Y/n, i see that you are still a weak and naive woman, who cannot stand up for herself” Xavier said calmly, stepping back. "But i have changed..."
Luffy continued to stare at him, gritting his teeth.
"I have become stronger..." the other continued and Zoro slowly began to draw one of his swords.
What he was saying was true. When you were under his command Xavier was already strong and evil, but after all those years he had gotten physically stronger and you could see it clearly given his height, definitely taller than Luffy's, the muscles of his arms and the scars he had gotten all over his body.
"And now i'm even more bloodthirsty than i was before!" he exclaimed with an evil smile, making your blood run cold in your veins at the way he said those words.
Suddenly, Xavier's hands began to turn like smoke and then all that smoke began to spread everywhere. No, it wasn't smoke...
"Is this fog?!" Sanji exclaimed and you noticed that because of the fog you were finding it increasingly difficult to see his body.
The only one you could still see was Luffy because he was right in front of you, so you walked over to him to grab his hand again.
“You know i was lucky enough to have the chance to eat a devil fruit too” Xavier's voice sounded around you and you turned to look at him, but he was completely gone. "I honestly would have preferred a stronger power like fire, but fog also has its advantages"
"Where did he go?!" Zoro exclaimed in the distance.
"I can't see him! And i can't see you either!" Robin then said.
Both you and Luffy continued to turn your heads, trying to spot him, but it was impossible now. He had completely merged with the fog, he could have been anywhere, he could have run away.
Until you suddenly heard his voice right next to your ear.
"For example i can do this"
Your eyes widened.
“Luff-hmph!”
You opened your mouth to call out to Luffy, but a hand covered your lips and you were dragged backwards, your hand releasing Luffy's, taken aback.
“Y/n!”
In a split second you saw Luffy suddenly turn towards you and then his body disappeared into the fog, along with the ones of your crewmates.
"Y/n! Y/n answer me! Where are you!?" Luffy continued to scream your name through the fog, while Zoro, Sanji and Robin tried to reunite with him.
"What happened?!" -Sanji
"Luffy what do we do?" -Zoro
Suddenly the fog began to clear and Luffy and the others widened their eyes when they saw that they had just been surrounded by an army of armed men.
"Damn! Where do all these guys come from?" Zoro asked, drawing his second sword.
"Luffy!"
Luffy whirled around when he heard your voice shouting his name and his and the others' eyes widened when they saw Xavier standing behind his men, holding your body in one hand.
"You bastard! Let her go!" Luffy shouted and without hesitation you saw him leap with a jump over all the pirates and towards you.
Xavier smirked and dodged him without any problems, then he threw a punch from behind that sent him crashing face first to the ground.
"Luffy!" You exclaimed again, scared for him.
Luffy raised his head to look at Xavier and the man tightened his hand around your body, making you whimper in pain.
"If you want her back, come and get her, Strawhat" he said and after creating another wall of fog he disappeared into the middle of it, taking you with him.
At that moment, all the pirates started to attack Luffy and the others, but before they could even take a step towards him, Luffy knocked them all out in a matter of seconds thanks to the power of haki.
"Well that was easy, wasn't it?" Zoro asked.
Then all the doors and windows of the palace opened, accompanied by a multitude of voices that were getting closer or closer. Luffy and the others realized that unfortunately the enemies were much more of the first ones.
"They're everywhere!" Robin said looking around, noticing pirates coming up the stairs and exiting the building as if they were ants.
"Guys! You cover me!" Luffy said as he adjusted his hat on his head. "I'm going to Xavier!"
"Leave it to us!" Zoro said with a smile.
“Make that bastard pay for hurting sweet Y/n!” Sanji continued, placing the cigarette between his lips and then kicking in the face the first pirate who dared to approach him.
Luffy began to run towards the entrance doors of the palace, defeating all the enemies who came in his path with punches and kicks.
"Get out of the way!" he shouted. "Y/n! I'm coming!"
From the highest room of the palace, you heard the shouts and clash of weapons of Xavier's men fighting against your friends and Luffy. But they would have made it. Right?
“Are you doubting them?” a voice asked from behind you. “Do you think your own crewmates won't make it?”
"No... My friends are strong"
“Stronger than you my dear, that's for sure” Xavier said with a chuckle that you ignored. By now you were used to his insults and the fact that he treated you as if you were worthless. "But do you really think that your captain is stronger than me?"
You slowly turned to look at Xavier with a murderous glare.
"I don't think so. I know that Luffy is stronger than you. And you will be another of the many people he's going to defeat before becoming the King Of The Pirates"
Xavier's smile slowly disappeared from his lips. He gritted his teeth and moved closer to you and before you could react, he punched you in the cheek, sending your body against the wall.
“You really are a pathetic woman, you haven't changed at all” the man said, tightening his hand around your body again and you squeezed your eyes shut in pain. “Do you know what i want right now Y/n? I want to kill your captain. And that's exactly what i'm going to do: his death will be the last thing you will see before you return with me to my ship as my slave. And i will make you regret to have escaped, believe me"
"XAVIERRR!"
Suddenly, the door broke into a thousand pieces and Luffy appeared inside the room, panting.
“L-Luffy…” you murmured with a smile.
Xavier composed himself and stood up, still holding your body in one hand.
Luffy clenched his fists when he saw your bloody mouth from Xavier's punch.
"Let her go. Now"
Xavier looked at him emotionlessly, as if he didn't care. Because that's exactly how it was.
"And if i don't?" he mockingly retorted.
Xavier tightened his grip around your body and you groaned in pain, coughing up blood as Luffy opened his eyes and gritted his teeth angrily. The man noticed Luffy's behavior, he was far too protective of you to just be your captain.
“Tell me Strawhat” Xavier then continued, loosening his grip on your body and you started breathing again. "Is she your woman?"
You weakly raised your head to look the man in the eyes with determination, despite your injuries.
"I-I'm not..."
"She's nobody's woman" Luffy continued, taking a step forward. "But if someone hurts her or my crewmates, you know what happens to them, right?"
Luffy cracked his knuckles, feeling the fury and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"I will defeat you Xavier. I will become the King Of The Pirates. But above all: Y/n will never be your slave again. You'll have to walk over my dead body before i let you take her away!"
You looked at Luffy with bright, shiny eyes.
"Luffy..."
Xavier grinned, as Luffy got into a fighting stance.
“Good” he said, lifting the hand that was gripping your body. "Bring it on then"
Xavier threw your body backwards, out the window, so he could focus on Luffy and you let out a scream, followed by Luffy yelling your name. You hit the ground, rolling a few feet, as you heard Xavier's evil laughter echoing from the building.
“Y/n!”
Your head throbbed and you slowly tried to sit up, until suddenly you saw Luffy's worried face appear before your eyes.
"Are you okay??" He asked frantically, placing his hands on your shoulders and shaking you lightly. "Oi! Answer me!"
"Strawhat!" Xavier's voice boomed from behind him. “You can't allow to let your guard down for her!”
Only then did you notice the light layer of fog that was slowly enveloping your bodies and your eyes widened when you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Luffy.
"Luffy watch out!"
Xavier tried to attack him and Luffy managed to block his punch by hardening his arm with haki, shielding you with his body.
"Why do you keep to protect her?" Xavier asked, trying to push his fist forward. "She's weak. She's just a dead weight! You can never be the Pirate King as long as you have someone like her in your crew! Don't you understand that?"
Luffy gritted his teeth.
"S-Shut up!" if his gaze had been capable of killing someone, Xavier would have died at that moment. "You know nothing about her!"
Luffy managed to push him away and Xavier was thrown backwards, back into the palace, but he knew he wouldn't last long.
"He's right..."
When Luffy heard your voice and turned to look at you, he saw you with your head bowed and shoulders shaking.
"I-I'm too weak. Someone like me doesn't deserve to stay in your crew, Luffy" you murmured as you clenched a fist on top of your thigh. "You're just wasting your time worrying about me, you'll never be able to make your dream come true. F-Forgive me... Forgive me Luffy, you don't deserve this..."
You closed your eyes and began to sob, not noticing Luffy's serious gaze fixed on your face. At that exact moment, the image of another you crying out loud just like you were doing now crossed his mind, when during a moment of intimacy between the both of you, you had found the courage to reveal your past to him. Luffy may have been a childish and forgetful boy, but if there was one thing he would never forget, that was your face of that day, with red eyes and cheeks covered in tears. And he knew Xavier deserved a punishment for everything he did to you.
Luffy took off his strawhat and placed it on your hair. You raised your head to look at him.
"L-Luffy?"
“You're not weak” he said, looking you straight in the eyes. "If you are in my crew, it's because i know that you are strong. And as your captain, i forbid you to believe Xavier's words, do you understand me?"
The seriousness of his words and the determination in his eyes with which he was looking at you were making your heart beat faster.
“And then…” he said and he flashed you a smile. "As long as i'm here, you know you can always count on me. I told you, don't you remember?"
Your eyes widened and you remembered the words Robin told you that time at the aquarium.
“We are a family, Y/n. We always help each other in times of need. You don't have to be afraid to ask for help”
"R-Really?" you sobbed as you looked at Robin and she smiled thoughtfully at you, nodding.
"We all did it. And with Luffy as our captain, we know he'll always do anything to protect us"
And then, you thought back to Luffy's words.
“As long as you are with me, you will never have to be afraid again. I will always protect you, no matter what. It's a promise”
“It's a promise, Y/n”
Hearing Luffy say those words again you couldn't help but cry again, but this time from emotion. He didn't care about your weaknesses, on the contrary, he knew that you had a potential in you that, thanks to Xavier, you had never had the courage to show. But now you had confirmation of where you really belonged and that was with Luffy. He and the others were your new home, your new family.
“T-Thank you Luffy,” you said, your trembling lips lifting into a smile. "Thank you so much!"
Luffy chuckled lightly.
"Shishishi! Come on, don't cry Y/n!" he said reaching a hand towards your face to wipe the tears from your cheeks in a somewhat goofy way and you closed your eyes with a sniff, letting out a giggle.
Next you saw him stand up.
"Now i want you to stay here and wait for me while i deal with that guy. Okay?" he said, jerking his thumb at Xavier in the distance behind him. "I'll be right back. And take care of my hat!"
Those were the last words he said to you before throwing himself headfirst into Xavier and you smiled as you watched him go, clutching your hands to your chest.
"I will"
///
When Nami saw you all returning aboard the Sunny, she and Usopp were the first to run towards you, worried.
"What happened?! We heard bangs and screams!"
"Are you all alright!?"
Then Franky, Brook and Chopper also joined and the latter let out a scared cry when he saw you sitting on Luffy's back (he and Sanji had argued about carrying you since you were injured, but in the end Sanji gave up).
“Y/n!”
You flashed him a weak grin, climbing down from Luffy's body for him to have a look, but you waved a hand nonchalantly, not wanting to worry him too much.
"Don't worry about me, Chopper. I'm fine, really"
The reindeer didn't seem too convinced by your words, but when he saw you leaning against Luffy's side with a tired smile, he decided to let it go.
"So what did you find out? Who did you fight?" Franky asked curiously.
Luffy fixed his hat on his head and hugging your body against his he tilted his head so he could rest it on yours, rubbing his cheek against your hair affectionately.
“Oh no one important, shishishi!” he exclaimed with an innocent smile and the others looked at him in confusion.
From behind Zoro, Robin gave you a knowing look and a smile which you silently returned, before clasping Luffy's hand in yours.
The past was behind you. Your present was with your crew and your beloved captain. That was where you belonged.
///
511 notes · View notes
srjlvr · 6 months
Text
SEVEN ROYALTIES
,, once upon a time there was a princess who managed to melt the prince’s cold heart ” — park jay.
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park jay x fem!reader genre: arranged marriage , one sided love at first , angst , fluff ! warnings: curse words , mentions of food (nothing serious, just dinner breakfast and all) , uhh dunno if it’s really a warning but just a rude behavior. | NOT FULLY PROOFREAD!!
WORD-COUNT ; 5.1k+
NOTE. it took me a while to finish it forgive me my loves. i’ve been in london and came back so i couldn’t really write it for a few hours straight. i reaalllllllly hope you’d find a way to like jay’s part as it’s not really my fav so far i’m sorry- i love you all!! hints of jake’s story are dropped in here as well ;)
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royal life sucks.
at least that’s what you believe. others would say it’s the best thing that a person can wish for—and by others you mean your parents.
ever since you were a child you were taught how to behave, how to speak formally and how to treat others like a princess should.
oh and of course how can your silly little brain forget? you need to get ready for marriage as soon as you’re born into a royal family.
so royal life does suck. a lot.
you’ve met numerous princes from all across the country. with you’re parents forcing you to meet any prince they see—it’s quite hard to avoid all of them.
on one of the days, you wanted to catch a breath, so you went to the forest that was the nearest to your own castle.
groaning as you heard your parents yelling at you to take the guards with you, you quickly turned your heels and walked away. the guards will eventually find you anyway.
you sat by one of the trees as soon as you dived deep in the forest. you opened your favorite book you took from your library and started reading it.
you fell asleep after a while, being too tired of life in general and your parents’ constant screams about finding a prince to marry didn’t help any of that at all.
you woke up to a rustle noise and put your hands up since you thought you were caught by the royal guards.
it wasn’t the case at all.
you got up and noticed a little child roaming around the forest. you were about to go up and help him until something stopped you.
“hey! kid! what are you doing here all by yourself?” to be more specific, it was someone.
he wore a uniform only a royal blood would wear—he’s definitely a prince.
you looked at the prince and god, he was so breathtaking. his uniform suit him the best, and his jawline was definitely one to stare at. how come you’ve never met him?
“i-i got lost in the forest, i don’t know the way back” the kid’s eyes were filled with tears.
“hey, it’s okay, don’t cry” he smiled and grabbed the child’s hand, “let’s get you out of this forest”
the kid nodded, “what is your name?” he asked.
“my name is jay” the prince held a hand over his chest as a friendly gesture and the kid smiled, “i’ll tell my mother about you jay”
the prince laughed and shook his hand, “no need to! you should keep that as a secret”
the prince and the kid kept walking until they were nowhere in sight and you finally released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
you have to meet that prince jay no matter what.
his kindness was what attract you the most to him. who can blame you? beside his outstanding visual, he seemed so kind and generous. definitely a one you’d like to marry.
you came back to the castle and prepared yourself to hear loads of screamings from your parents, but instead you were greeted with a wide smile smeared over their face.
“what’s with that face? you’re scaring me” you sighed.
they looked at each other and cheered at the same time, “we found the perfect husband for you!”
“what?” you spit out.
“we have everything closed! a husband, a place and of course, a date!” they clapped.
“you didn’t even ask me about it!” you shout and they rolled their eyes, “you’re getting old already y/n, and we’re definitely not getting younger. you need to marry someone already so we decided to help you a little”
“this is ridiculous, i can’t believe on you” you shook your head and went back to your room.
“be ready for the meeting tomorrow at ten in the morning!” they shout as you harshly closed the door.
“good morning your majesty, the queen asked me to wake you up early today and help you get ready” one of your servants softly caressed your hair.
you sighed and nodded, “thank you”
you got up and your servants helped you to get ready to meet your soon-to-be husband.
you thought about running away multiple times before, but now you’re definitely considering it as your only way out.
“what if i’ll just run away?” you mumbled while your servants were busy fixing your dress, “don’t be like that your majesty, you’re our only hope in this kingdom after your parents” one of them answered.
they’re actually right. as an only child it is your responsibility to take after your parents when their time will come to an end.
“come on, quickly! we don’t want to be late” you mother waved her hand at you and signaled you to get into the car quicker.
you sighed heavily, an obvious look of disappointment and sadness is smeared all over your face.
“we’re driving to hybe’s kingdom now, i’m sure you’ve heard of them” your father excitedly explained, “you’re going to meet prince jay, your soon-to-be husband”
your eyes light up, did he just say prince jay?
“prince jay?” you asked and your parents nodded.
“his mother is a good friend of mine, when she heard that we’ve been searching for a husband for you she told me one of her sons needs to marry off to someone too!” the queen smiled, “in order to take the throne he has to marry someone, which means you’re getting a kingdom for yourself!”
“it’s not my kingdom” you murmured, “but i am excited to meet my soon-to-be husband”
your parents clapped hearing the exciting news. they never thought you’d get so excited to meet the person you’re off to marry.
“good afternoon” hybe’s queen greeted your parents with a lovely smile and a welcoming hug.
“afternoon! how have you been?” you mother asked her while you curtsy in front of the other queen, “wonderf—oh what a pleasing surprise to see such a beautiful face here in this kingdom”
you smiled widely, “good afternoon, your majesty. i’m l/n y/n”
she then giggled, covering her mouth with her fingers as a formal gesture, “you don’t need to be so formal with me young lady, i’m your mother in law already”
“your mother told me a lot about you! i had to get one of my sons to marry you no matter what” she added.
the king then called everyone to gather in the dining hall and you did as he told.
“it’s nice to finally meet you, my future wife”
as soon as you arrived into the dining hall you were greeted by prince jay, your soon-to-be husband with a kiss on your hand and a slight bow.
before you even noticed it, you were already a blushing mess. this man surely knows how to fluster people!
“it’s nice to meet you too, my future husband” you smiled and curtsy in front of him.
he stared at you and you couldn’t deny his breathtaking visuals. you held your breath, suddenly feeling so nervous around the prince.
your parents made you sit next to jay, you were between him and your parents, as jay was between you and his family.
“so,” one of the seven siblings started speaking, “i’m heeseung, the next one as you already know is jay, then jake, sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon and riki”
you nodded, “it’s nice to meet you all, i’m l/n y/n”
their parents then clapped, “we’ll be leaving now with your parents! stay here and chat for a bit, we’ll tell you all the details later today”
you nodded again, this time a bit hesitated since you’re going to stay alone with your future husband and his six other siblings.
or so you thought.
“we’ll be going now as well, after all you do need some privacy” jake smiled warmly at you.
you looked at the rest of the siblings and they all mouthed you a goodluck,
why were they looking at you with such pity in their eyes?
“so—” you planned on starting your little speech now that you’re alone with jay, but he cut you off before you could even continue.
“don’t get the wrong idea, i’m doing all of this for the throne and my kingdom,” he groaned, “in order to get my kingdom i need to marry, you’re the best option i have right now”
you were taken aback, completely speechless and disappointed.
“shouldn’t you give this a chance? we’re marrying anyway so we should try to—“
“i don’t believe in love anyway,” he scoffed, “especially not when it comes to marrying off to someone like you”
“someone like me?”
he nodded and replied, “a spoiled princess who marries off to a prince”
“i saw you yesterday, in the woods, helping a little boy,” at this point tears started to form in your eyes, “you were so kind to him, why am i different?”
now he’s the speechless one. it took him a while to think of an answer and as he was about to reply both of your parents entered the room again.
you pressed on your eyes to clean the tears that were threatening to fall and smiled at yours and his parents.
“the wedding will be held next week! it’s official and it’ll happen in our ballroom” your mother-in-law smiled warmly at you.
she seemed kind, unlike one of her children.
you nodded and your parents cheered, “i can’t believe my daughter is going to marry” your mother pat your head and you tried not to cringe.
“you’ll pay a visit in your kingdom in a few days as well” your father-in-law added.
this whole idea feels surreal. you? marrying off to a prince? and you didn’t even do anything against it!
you believe that sooner or later, jay will find a way to fall in love with you and find some interest in you as you already did in him.
“morning! i’m taking you to choose a wedding dress today” your mother woke you up with a big smile on her face.
the whole idea about being able to marry a prince you finally found some interest in really excited you.
you’re almost sure that he didn’t mean what he said yesterday, and it’s probably because he got stressed about the whole wedding thing. keyword, almost.
you decided to give him time, and maybe after the wedding he’ll calm down.
“you look so beautiful” your mother held her hands over her mouth and tried really hard not to cry.
you held her hands and smiled, “thank you mom, i got my beauty from you”
the whole week passed in a blink of an eye, and you were already getting ready for your own wedding, held in hybe’s huge castle.
loads of princes and princesses from all over came to congratulate the new couple and to your request, a few important citizens were invited as well.
your visit in your new kingdom that was held a few days ago was nothing but humiliating.
you were busy greeting the citizens while jay went to the other side of the town, completely as far away from you.
the citizens kept asking you if you’re doing okay and if you’re sure about that marriage since prince jay doesn’t seem to treat you right, but you just giggled and shrugged it off, telling them it’s ‘completely normal for a couple to have a fight a few days before their wedding’.
you then arrived to your new castle together, “walking with me around the town isn’t something bad to do, you know that right?” you asked him before you entered but all he did was to ignore you.
you took a few moments to take in the beauty of your castle and your garden, forgetting about the fact that jay is standing next to you with fierce eyes.
“you’ll be taking the room at the end of this hall and i’ll be taking the one on the other side” he started speaking, “don’t talk to me unless it’s important” he added and you scoffed.
did he really have to separated your bedrooms too?
“jay we’re going to be a married couple, don’t you think that—“
“i already told you i don’t care about this marriage, you should be thankful i’m letting you in the castle anyway” he rolled his eyes and entered his new room.
you stayed there, dumbfounded and speechless again for the nth time.
“it’s okay, he’s probably just stressed, that’s all” you convinced yourself to calm down and forced a smile.
the guards that came to accompany you looked at you with an apologetic look, feeling sorry for what just happened and what is about to happen in the future.
as you were now pronounced as a husband and a wife, you couldn’t help but take a look at jay, who was standing right next to you and holding your hand.
for the first time ever since you first met, he smiled at you.
maybe there’s a chance for the both of you?
your wedding was more than amazing, your parents kept on smiling and laughing, it honestly made you feel relieved about the whole situation.
the rest of the guests kept congratulating you and complimenting you about how good you look.
your mother-in-law kept hugging you and showing you off to her friends.
jay couldn’t stop smiling at you and staring at you as well and honestly? that felt so good.
until the moment you were left alone in your new castle. thinking that maybe, only maybe now jay will show some interest and ask you how do you feel about the wedding and the whole situation.
instead, he just got inside his room, not before commenting something like “don’t talk to me unless it’s something important” for the second time.
jay was always known as the cold hearted prince in his family. he can’t explain why and won’t even budge to explain as well. his ego is boosted enough to care about himself and himself only. and well, maybe sometimes his family.
when his parents said the exciting news about getting a kingdom in terms of marriage, he was the first one to jump and ask from his parents a little help, that’s the only reason he got married before the first prince, heeseung.
he doesn’t believe in love. he thinks it’s stupid and distractful, he likes being alone.
when he saw you, he couldn’t deny your beauty, he got a bit taken aback by your gorgeous smile that was smeared all over your face.
but he couldn’t show how mesmerized he was, not when his image is the cold hearted prince and his ego is up in the sky.
he couldn’t deny the fact that he likes your presence, even if both of you spent about an hour alone.
he still remembers the first time he saw you. he was around the woods, walking around and exploring the view, until he saw a figure laying besides a tree.
he walked a bit closer and that’s when he noticed your peacefully sleeping face. god, you looked so pretty even when you slept.
he didn’t know you nor your name, but he felt so relaxed when he saw you.
until he heard some rustles and was sure someone or something was about to attack you.
when he noticed it was a little child his eyes softened and he ran to the child in order to help him.
on a usual day he wouldn’t care about the lost child, but something about your presence made him want to help out and take care of the child.
as soon as he saw that he was going to marry you, he had to push you away at any cost.
you’d be a distraction for him, and that’s a big no.
you on the other side however, held hope about this marriage, after all you weren’t being taught about marriage and how to be good to your family your whole life for nothing, were you?
the first morning after your marriage was quite weird to say the least.
you weren’t awaken up by your parents’ annoying remarks about marriage, and you weren’t even being called into breakfast.
you quickly got ready and went down to the dining hall, already seeing jay sitting in one of the chairs and eating his breakfast already.
“you could’ve called me for breakfast…” you whispered but it was enough for him to hear.
“why would i?” he asked and you were left speechless, “nevermind” you shrugged and sat on one of the chairs across the table.
breakfast was awkward and quiet. none of you spoke, only sounds of muffling were heard between the two of you.
“should we walk around the town today? i feel like we—“
jay sighed, cutting you off, “no, i don’t see a reason to do so”
you replied with a quiet ‘oh’ and nodded, “either way i’ll be going out to—“
“i don’t care” he cut you off again.
you pressed your lips together and nodded again, leaving your seat and going back to your room.
you had to do something about it, there’s no way he hates you that much, right?
that evening, after committing all your duties for the day, you arrived to the castle’s kitchen, greeting all the servants with a kind smile and asking them to teach you how to cook.
“your majesty, a royal blood like you shouldn’t cook your own dinner” they said but you shrugged them, “i insist, i want to make my husband a small surprise, even though i’m not the best cook”
they all nodded and taught you everything you need to know.
at dinner, you sat at the same seat you took at breakfast. right across jay, who was busy daydreaming about something.
you waited for him to finish the food and asked him, “how was the food?”
“appetizing” he answered coldly and pushed back his chair to get up and walk back to his room.
you were bored. you had no one to rely on. the servants became your best friends now ever since you asked them to help you at the kitchen.
you asked them to teach you how to do laundry, cook, clean and much more.
you had nothing to do anyway so why not?
you did most of those things to impress jay. but all you got in return was scoffs and ignorance from his side.
it sucked. and if you thought royal life sucks, this is ten times more awful than royal life only.
he got sick? you’re the one who’s running around with medicine. he felt a bit hungry? you’d be the one to cook him meals. not even minding the facts you have tons of servants in the castle.
after a while into your marriage, and your dozens attempts of making jay have a slight interest in you, you got tired of it.
you felt drained. you felt tired. you felt unwanted.
in one of the days you paid a visit in your parents’ castle.
your one and only home.
you looked at them, eyes full with nothing but love when they looked at each other. you won’t ever see them doing something by themselves, always having to rely on each other no matter what.
you envy them, you feel jealousy whenever you’re watching them and you don’t know what to do about it.
“i was thinking,” you called out in your dinner with your parents, “it’s been a while since we’ve been together and i really miss the both of you”
you sighed, “can i come over for a few days?”
you had to do it. even though all your parents did was to worry about you getting married, they still showed you and showered you with love.
you need to feel loved now, you need those few days with them now. and maybe even eventually you’ll never go back to your current kingdom.
your parents looked at each other shocked, “is everything okay between you and jay?” your mother asked.
not wanting to ruin jay’s image, you nodded, “nothing bad happened, i just miss you two”
“if that is the case then of course! you know this is your own kingdom as well” your father opened his arms out and you hugged him.
you got back to the castle without even having your usual dinner with jay.
he felt frustrated, were you busy doing something more important than a dinner with him?
he knew it wasn’t his place to brag, heck he shouldn’t even feel frustrated, but he can’t help it.
“the food tastes different today” he mumbled, “i wonder why”
of course he doesn’t know you’re the one the always cooked him his meals so far.
you made the servants swear on their own life that they’ll keep that as a secret for their whole life.
and for the first time ever since your marriage and ever since you were taught how to cook, you didn’t cook for him. and he couldn’t understand why it tasted so different for him to the point that he didn’t even want to finish his meal.
the next morning you packed your stuff and stood by the door, you looked over jay who tilt his head in confusion, “i’ll be leaving now” you started.
“i don’t know for how long, and i’m sure you don’t even care. so don’t mind me” you took your last bag and walked away.
jay was left speechless. did you really just admit that you’re leaving him? does that mean you’re planning to divorce him?
why does he even care?
“she’ll be back” he whispered and went to have his breakfast.
he was so wrong for that.
it has been a few days, even weeks since he last saw you.
people started talking and spreading rumors about a divorce between you two, and his parents paid a visit in the kingdom.
he used a lame excuse of “she’s on duties, she told me she’ll be back late and is extremely sorry for not being able to greet you two” and they believed him.
a few days later he was invited to hybe’s kingdom, to meet the person his older brother heeseung fell in love with.
when he heard about the person being the same commoner he warned heeseung about, he couldn’t understand him.
how dare he break the rule of not marrying a commoner?
how did he even managed to fall in love with such a commoner?
he only then realized how messed up he was the moment he heard heeseung’s partner explaining how much she loves him.
he felt even more devastated when he heard how much his older brother is willing to sacrifice in order to marry the commoner.
there’s got to be something that he’s been doing wrong.
you, on the other hand really missed jay. even if he wasn’t even sparing you a glance, even though he ignored you most of the time, even though he denied anything you suggested, you can’t lie you just want to start all over again with him.
there’s something about him that kept you attracted to him, you can’t let go of that feeling.
spending the last few days with your parents made you realize that all you had to do was to confront him instead of going around in circles and trying to get his attention.
jay’s guilty feelings were eating him alive.
just now he heard from the servants that you were the one who took care of him all the time.
this is the only reason his food tasted differently lately, and the medicine he takes when he’s sick has changed.
he’s got to do something about it, but what and how?
“hey, sunghoon,” jay called his brother and sunghoon answered with a short ‘hm’. “have you seen jake?”
sunghoon looked up at jay and slowly shook his head, “i don’t know where he has been lately, he has been gone for a few days already, i’ve been lying to mom and dad about his whereabouts but i really don’t know where he is”
damn. he wasn’t expecting that answer. jake? running away from royalty? what has been going on lately in the little mind of his?
jake is known as the best advice giver, and jay wanted to ask him for some advice about his marriage life. but now that he’s a runaway prince who can jay talk to?
“jungwon,” jay knocked on his younger brother’s door and opened it right after.
“is everything okay?” jungwon asked worriedly.
“i need help,” he sighed, “i messed up, big time”
“is this about your marriage?” jungwon already knew. he was expecting his older brother to mess up his marriage. after all, he wasn’t expecting from much when his brother’s ego is boosted up.
“you should go to her” before jay could even speak again, jungwon put his hand on jay’s shoulder, “admitting that you messed up in front of her is the best thing you can do right now”
jay nodded slowly, “how did you—“
“lying to mom and dad and telling them she’s on duties? not showing up with her for dinner with everyone? come on! it’s so obvious”
“thank you” jay smiled and ruffled the younger’s hair, “update me with whatever is happening” jungwon chuckled.
“you should update me with whatever is happened with jake! where is that idiot?”
jungwon shrugged and sighed, “all he said is that he might be back in a few months, or never”
“what about mom and dad?”
“they don’t know anything, they’re sure he’s staying in his friend’s kingdom for a bit”
jay shook his hand, “let’s hope he’ll be back soon”
that night jay could barely sleep. he spent hours over hours thinking about a way to get you back to him.
he only now realized how much he cares about you, how much he likes your presence, how much he misses you and needs you.
he wanted to tell you all of this but didn’t know how to put it in words, what can he do?
the moment he woke up he cursed under his breath. he knows you’re at your parents’ kingdom, which means he has to tell your parents what happened as well.
can his life be more miserable? he can’t blame anyone but himself honestly.
he took a deep breath before entering your castle.
bowing in front of your parents and waiting for a response from them.
“jay! what a pleasant surprise to see such a king in our home” the queen smiled warmly at them.
“how can we help you?” the king asked.
“i’d like to see your daughter and my wife, y/n” he gulped, nervous and scared of their reaction.
“it’s really been a while since she went back to your home, i guess she missed us that much!” the queen giggled.
jay froze for a second. you didn’t tell them about the whole situation at all? why do you still care so much about him when he treated you so bad?
he couldn’t take it anymore and as soon as your parents guided him to your room, his eyes roamed around and finally softened when he found you.
“jay?” you asked. you were facing the window and took in the view, until you heard your door opening and turned around to welcome the guest, “what are you doing here?”
“y/n” he whispered and got closer to you.
you frozed, it was the first time he called your name ever since your wedding. what happened to him?
you tried to read his eyes but couldn’t. his fierce gaze is long gone, his softened eyes replaced it.
“i’m so sorry” he stopped when he felt he was too close to you. he was actually one step from caging you in his arms, but was scared you’re too angry and hurt to care about him.
“you’re…” you breathed, “sorry?”
you’re almost certain this whole situation is a one big dream.
prince jay? the cold hearted prince? just apologized? in front of you?
“i’m sorry, i was being a jerk, i wasn’t thinking straight” he shook his head, “i thought that if i’d let myself get distracted by you i’d get lost, but i was so wrong. i’m so lost without you”
you couldn’t believe what you’ve just heard. it feels too surreal to see jay almost begging on his knees for forgiveness.
you could see his eyes filled with tears that were threatening to fall. “when i first saw you i was so taken aback by your beauty, you’re so pretty y/n. i loved your presence, even if it was for just a few seconds because i was being a jerk and always ran away from you”
when he noticed your soft gaze he finally stepped closer and caged you in his arms, “i was so wrong. i was scared to fall in love but i already did. it took me so much time to realize that i’m sorry y/n” he whispered in your ear.
he felt so relieved when you wrapped your hands around him and buried your face in his neck.
“it took you so long, idiot” you chuckled, “i’m glad you finally realized how much of a jerk you were and i’m expecting for a payback”
he giggled and nodded, “i’ll give you anything you want as long as you promise to stay with me” he held out a pinky and you interlocked your own with his, “i promise”
not even a day passed and you were already back in your kingdom. yours and jay’s kingdom.
he promised to love you forever, and even planned a little wedding for the both of you, saying that “that wedding was nothing but toxic, you deserve a new and a better wedding”
you played along with him and remarried him again, this time with both of your hearts full with love and affection to each other.
“did you know?” he asked and you hummed, “what?”
he kissed your sweet lips and smiled through the kiss, “i love you so much”
you playfully pushed him and giggled, “i love you so much too, jay”
a few days passed and ni-ki’s birthday was held in hybe’s kingdom.
jay introduced you to heeseung and his future wife and after a while of talking ni-ki called you and you had to go.
jay smiled at heeseung and his partner, apologizing for acting like a jerk and thanking them for saving his marriage.
he went back to you right after that and pecked your lips while holding you tightly.
“by the way, ni-ki asked me to adopt him and i agreed”
“why would you do that—“
“my new parents! i love you!” ni-ki hugged the both of you as you both giggled and held him tightly.
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TAG-LIST ; @jaeneohee @hsgwrld @enhastolemyheart @enhacatalog @kaykay11sworld @ipoststuffandyeah @beomsbeanie @queestionmark @ineedsomezzz @yenqa @ikayyyyyy @nshmrarki @asteriaskingdom @loumin908
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delcakoo · 2 years
Text
behind the net!┊nishimura riki
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SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.
PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader
WC ! 9.8k
GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst
WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more
a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3
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choi beomgyu talks too much.
you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.
“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”
sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.
“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”
“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.
wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?
you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”
byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.
no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.
“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.
“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”
well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.
“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.
by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”
your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.
gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.
satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”
byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”
you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”
“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”
you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”
“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“
“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”
byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.
L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.
“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”
you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”
add that to the list of famous last words.
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“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.
“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”
the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”
“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.
the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”
“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.
at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”
you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“
you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”
did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).
“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.
organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.
what on earth did you get yourself into?
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“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.
you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”
“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”
you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”
she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”
“no promises.”
her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”
you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.
byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”
“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”
your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”
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two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.
this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.
with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.
you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.
when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.
that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.
out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.
“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.
“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.
“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.
you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.
“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.
some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.
you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”
it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.
“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”
“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.
“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.
mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.
“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”
you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”
mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.
you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”
“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”
you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.
though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.
mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”
“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.
after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.
“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.
heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.
you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.
what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.
“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”
out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.
you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”
nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.
“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.
suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.
honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”
“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.
you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.
niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.
“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.
do.. niki and chelsea know each other?
“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.
“no way,” jake mutters.
your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“
“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.
“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.
“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.
jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”
“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.
the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.
day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.
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the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.
you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.
dearest y/n (aka the manager),
i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.
sincerely, yang rei.
jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?
“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“
“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.
the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”
none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.
‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.
“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.
“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.
“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”
“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.
you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”
without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.
“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?
no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.
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niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.
guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.
but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?
he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.
she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”
niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”
“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”
and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.
yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.
niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.
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two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.
ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.
“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.
you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.
“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.
sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”
“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.
“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.
“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.
“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?
you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”
“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”
“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.
“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.
the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).
“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.
he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.
niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”
“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.
oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.
and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.
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the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.
byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.
“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.
your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”
she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.
“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.
what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.
while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.
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ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.
oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.
you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”
you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”
“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.
“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“
byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”
“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?
byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“
“bullying you,” you correct sternly.
“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”
you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).
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four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.
“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”
how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.
niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”
you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.
he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”
your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”
he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”
seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.
niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“
you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”
“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.
“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.
niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.
that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.
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niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?
suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.
“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.
niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”
“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”
niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.
“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”
jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”
“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.
niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”
“you love us.”
jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”
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you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.
“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.
classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.
she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”
before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”
you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”
niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”
“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.
you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.
“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.
jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”
“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.
“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.
“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”
“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.
thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”
“here!”
“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.
“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”
at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.
niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”
you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”
“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.
luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.
the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”
the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”
so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.
the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”
as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”
jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?
“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.
you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”
“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”
the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.
“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.
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you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.
you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.
the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.
sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.
two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.
“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.
just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.
you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.
you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.
the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”
you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”
“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.
“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”
niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”
“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.
“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.
you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”
“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.
you smile, “deal.”
with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.
okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.
you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!
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perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby
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chelawrites · 6 months
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I'm glad you are taking requests cause I love your work.
So, can you write one where Ferrari does Charles dirty on a race that he could've won and when he gets home he is in a bad mood and lashes out in frustration, including at you. You, knowing why he is acting this way, just listen and let him free to be alone or whatever. At night, already on bed, he apologises for everything he said and you just wanna give him the love and attention he deserves. In the morning, he wakes up to a beautiful breakfast that you prepared for him.
Just an angst/fluffy story.
Okay, this is too cute - and since I’m on a Charles spiral it was fairly easy to whip up! Thank you for the request anon, I hope you love it! 💕
Take It Easy | Charles Leclerc | CL16
T/W: angry shouting
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The race was nothing even close to amazing, watching Ferrari “strategy” turn your fiancé into a sacrificial lamb for the benefit of Carlos’ positioning once again. You had heard all the same radio calls, all the same commentary as everyone else, but you were someone who truly knew how this was feeling for Charles.
You were heart broken for him as you watched on in unsurprising wariness, making it hard to continue. Opting to make yourself busy - to distract yourself, you begin tidying up the place - knowing that Charles would fly home immediately after he was relieved from his duties for the weekend. Not that the place was a mess, no, but because coming home to a clean apartment would help more than hinder his mood.
* * *
You’re just finishing your lunch when you hear the front door open and close, not a peep coming from Charles as he entered. Dusting your hands off over your plate, you rise from your chair. “Hi, love! How was your flight?”
A heavy sigh escapes his lips, “It was fine.” He sets his bag down next to his suitcase.
You move forward to grab the luggage, wanting to help in getting them out of his way. “Here let me get-“
“It’s fine! Leave it. I’ll do it later.” His voice raises and it shocks you, causing you to jump from the sudden volume change. You slowly push the pieces back to where they were.
“I - I’m sorry.” You stand quite still in the entrance and watch him walk through to the kitchen, he begins to dig in the cabinets.
He’s slamming cabinet doors shut when the contents don’t please him, zipping all about the kitchen. When he gets to the fridge and opens it, he grumbles, “Where did that sandwich go? The one from the cafe down the street?”
Knowing the answer could set him off again in his brittle state, you speak softly. “I had to throw it out…Charles you bought that sandwich before you left last week, it was no good anymore.” He throws his head back, another heavy sigh escaping his throat. “I can make you something? Whatever you’d like!”
He begins to shake his head, returning to the entrance and getting ready to leave. His keys jingle as they swiftly lock the door once he’s back in the hallway, leaving you alone once again.
* * *
Charles was out for what felt like an eternity, but was really only four hours - not that that wasn’t weird anyway. You had spent that time in silence, no music being played to fill the void, no TV shows being watched for distraction, just silence. You did your daily into nightly routine, now winding down your day as you sat up in bed reading a book. The front door opens, this time closing much softer than earlier.
Your fiancé walks in, still silent and passes through the room into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The shower runs, you continue on reading.
The mattress shifts, sinking in next to you as Charles makes his way into bed - water droplets still hugging his bare shoulders. “Y/N, I’m really sorry - for lashing out at you. I - I just…” his hands are thrown up in a shrug.
Folding the corner of the page, you close the book, setting it in your lap. “I know, Charles. I watched the whole thing.” You take his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze.
“I just don’t know why they keep using me like this? I don’t mean to say I don’t want Carlos to be successful too, but to sacrifice me? When I’m having a decent race? To throw me out to the wolves?” His voice is raising again, but this time he sounds defeated. “And I took it out on you, for nothing. Making you upset - I have no excuse to do so.”
You watch as his eyes well up, turning a vibrant pink, as they do before he starts to cry. “Hey, it’s alright. Let’s not make a habit of it, but please let me help you? That’s all I wanted to do.”
He swivels next to you so he’s facing you, you do the same to be face to face. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck - peppering kisses all over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, mon amour. I love you and I’m very grateful to have you, I just need to show you better.”
You smile and kiss his head, still soggy from his shower. “I love you too, Charles. Make it up to me?” You toss a wink his way. One he happily catches.
* * *
There’s a smell wafting through your apartment, but it isn’t from your open windows - which are billowing soft Monegasque air through your curtains, the sounds of the city faint in the background. The sounds of sizzling, a careful hand still clinking glass, clanging pots and pans - you try your hardest to keep quiet, hoping your fiancé gets a chance to sleep in.
You whipped up a feast; a plate of eggs, ham, toast, a bowl of fruit, all along side a freshly brewed espresso and a bottle of mineral water. Your finishing touch was a small bouquet you snagged from a flower cart vendor this morning while Charles softly snored away in bed.
Meticulously, you set the table assuring nothing but perfection. Warm arms snake around your waist, “Good morning, mon amour.” His voice slightly hoarse from sleep. You feel his breath on your neck just before he places a peck on the nape of it.
Turning in his arms you greet him with a smile and a kiss. “Is this breakfast? For me?” You nod happily. “After all I put you through yesterday? Ma chérie, I don’t deserve you.” He cuddles you closer, trailing soft and sweet pecks all over your sleepy face.
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Text
(Not) Hard to Love
( Part 1 of 2 )
Trafalgar Law x Reader
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Warning: ⚠️ reader has self love issues, angst, some suggestive thoughts, not a native English speaker here :)
Authors notes: I have read your comments about writing a part 3 to Keeping me warm, i hadn’t really planed it as a series, so if you have a suggestion how the story should end, I would love to hear your thoughts.
I know this story isn’t that much different. But I am just living for that angsty pining shit. 😗✌🏻this will have a part two and it will follow soon. Anyways have fun. Feel free to comment your thoughts. And remember nice words are good for everybody’s mental health. ;)
"You're staring again"
Robin's words snapped you out of your thoughts. The dark-haired girl was sitting next to you on a sun lounger. There was an open book on her lap. She giggled.
" what?! No. I'm not!"
"Are you sure? You seem to be quite fascinated by him"
She held her sunglasses up for a moment so that you could see her eyes. She winked before putting the sunglasses back on her nose. She grinned and looked happily towards the sun.
It was a hot midday on the Thousand Sunny. Chopper and Luffy were playing a mixture of catch and hide-and-seek, with Luffy usually winning.
Zoro was snoring on deck, his swords always beside his sleeping body.
Usopp and Franky repaired small things on the Sunny and Sanji prepared a few refreshing drinks. While Brook was singing to himself somewhere.
Nami, Robin and you were sunbathing on the main deck. At least that was Nami's plan. Robin had gone along to do some reading. And you had mainly agreed to it for a very specific reason.
Normally your friends would have been reason enough, but the drastic heat was anything but pleasant.
If it hadn't been for this one reason, you would have gone somewhere in the shade long ago, preferably to Sanji in the kitchen or to the girls' room. Somewhere where you could best escape the sun.
But your reason for staying out on deck hadn't really moved for two hours. He was sitting at a small table with a parasol, a few sheets of paper and books spread out in front of him. Immersed in his work.
He was sitting far enough away not to be disturbed by Chopper and Luffy's games.
Trafalgar Law had been on board the Sunny for a few weeks now. Being part of the Strawhat crew again, even if only for a short time, was really getting to him. Groaning, he stretched his body, which was already a little sore from the uncomfortable posture. He really should take breaks from studying more often.
He walked briskly towards the kitchen. As a good doctor, he knew how important it was to drink water regularly, especially in these temperatures.
" and do you like what you see?"
" huh?!"
Once again, your mind wandered. For a brief moment, you wish you could take photos with your eyes. Just save certain moments in your mind forever. And return again and again to study them in detail.
That's all it was. You wanted to know what his deal was. Although you had already had several conversations with him, and in your opinion always with friendly intentions, he had managed to make you feel terrible every time.
Almost every conversation had degenerated too quickly. You could hardly believe how stubborn someone could be. And your captain was Luffy.
So you definitely knew your way around stubborn men. But Law was different. He was cold and grim and always wanted to be right.
You were annoyed by him from day one. Annoyed because this handsome, strong pirate was making you feel things. And that completely destroyed your former inner harmony.
There were either constant arguments or harsh silence between you. Sometimes he ignored you for days. At first you didn’t understand why he stayed with your crew, if he hated it so much.
But every now and then you could see a different side to him. How he talked caringly to Chopper about medication, how he complimented Sanji's cooking, how he gave Robin a brief smile after she had shown him her newest book collection in the library.
But these little moments were never with you. Every interaction between you and him was a disaster. He was grumpy, stressed and strict. So most times he just gave you a weird glance or turned the other way when he saw you walking towards him.
At least you had tried. But ever since Law decided to treat you differently from the other crew members and set out to make your life a living hell, you didn't want to be the friendly one either. You were sure, he didn’t have a problem with the rest of the crew. His problem was you.
But the heat was getting to everyone, and with such temperatures you can shortly forget the real problems.
Especially after Law had gotten rid of his long coat and overly thick sweater. Even his hat, which he usually wears, had been laying on the table next to his medicine and history books for almost half an hour.
And law without all that, was definitely interesting enough to briefly forget what the real problem was.
Tattoos on his upper and lower arms, his dark hair crushed and disheveled from wearing his hat. And his warm eyes that were now really visible for the first time.
"Robin! ... Why is he like that?"
" like what, y/n?"
" like so... so... so arghhhhh..., annoying ?! Angry? Attractive?!" You sighed and put your hands before your face. Not wanting even more people to see your blushing face.
Robin grinned again and took the book off her lap.
" so you do fancy him. Nami and I were right. ... hey Usopp! You owe me 50 berry!"
"Oh no. You did a bet on me ?!"
You loved Robin. She was the most beautiful, intelligent and loving woman you knew. But sometimes you were a tiny bit mad at her for knowing you so well. You couldn’t keep any secret from her. This woman had all the wisdom of the world (+ the gossip on the sunny ) in her head.
" I just don't get why someone who has that gorgeous hair and pretty smile, is such an asshole."
" Law isn't that terrible, Y/N. I told you he's just shy around new people. He'll make friends with you sooner than you know, I'm sure of it. And I don't think he hates you. He just doesn't know how to talk to you yet."
"Yeah, but he can't really get to know me and be my „ friend“, if he always leaves the room when I walk in.... I just want to know why he won't at least try to be friendly to me.
I mean, we have a lot in common. And I was really nice to him on his first day here. I showed him around the ship and even made him fresh juice from Nami’s trees and prepared his room. And all I got was a grumpy face and not a single comment.
And I just don’t know what is wrong with me?! He likes you guys, and he is so kind to Chopper." A sad frown making its way onto your face.
„sounds like you are jealous.“
Nami hadn’t really participated in the conversation yet. But she just enjoyed teasing you too much.
„ ahhh… just shut up, Nami.“
Now hiding your entire body under the beach towel you had brought with you.
You sigh after rolling your eyes for a moment. This wasn’t helping. You would have to find out what exactly his problem with you was.
Later that day, you helped Sanji in the kitchen. You were preparing some muffins for after dinner.
" Hey, can I ask you something?"
" Sure thing, honey. What's on your mind?"
Nervously, you bite your lip. Should you really ask Sanji for help? He certainly wasn't your first choice, but you felt you had to talk to a man. And the other men on board wouldn't be much help either.
„ but of course you are! You are incredibly beautiful and as pretty as a glowing nightsky or a bouquet of expensive flowers.“
Sanji was dancing around you with hearts in his eyes. Making weird noises while twirling like a ballerina.
That’s exactly why you were nervous. Surly Sanji wasn’t the right one to talk about this. But you at least had to try and find out what was wrong with you.
„ but like… do you like my personality too?“
„ yes of course sweetheart, you are the kindest, sweetest and most loving creature to ever bless my eyes.“
„and do you think that the others think so too? That I m helpful ? And kind ? And have a purpose on this ship?“
Sanji stopped dancing and looked at you seriously. „ why are you doubting yourself so much Y/N ? Of course the others think so too. You are part of our Nakama. What makes you think that way? „
Sanji stepped behind you and wrapping his arm around you. „Did the stupid Marimo say something again? I told you not to listen to the shit he says.“
You sat down on one of the chairs next to the kitchen table.
You immediately felt your chest tighten. You didn't want to cry. You really didn't. But the whole thing bothered you more than you initially thought.
"I just don't understand what I did wrong. I was only ever friendly and did everything I could to make him like me. But he hates me and I don't know why."
You sat uncomfortably on the chair with your legs drawn up. Sanji had never seen you so irritated.
" hey hey. It's all good, y/n. Who are you talking about?"
" The fucking Doctor, of course..."
Sanji smirked. He had almost suspected that. He had seen how you kept looking after the dark-haired man after he had ignored you and quickly left the room.
" I just don't get it! Why does he hate me? I've really tried everything, but he won't even look at me when I talk to him.
I've been asking myself for days... am I so ugly that he can't even bear to look at me? Is there really nothing to like about me?“
Hot tears started falling. Your flushed cheeks covered with them.
You didn't deserve all this attention you were hoping for. There was a reason nobody loved you. Something must be wrong with you. Something everybody probably knew, but was too afraid to tell you.
Were you this hard to love ? Why did you have to be so interested in this dude anyway?! Oh yeah, he was gorgeous to look at, intelligent like no other and had seen more of the world than you could ever dream of. Of course you had a stupid crush on him. But for him, you were only air. Or maybe something worse.
Sanji didn’t know if he should laugh or cry with you. He couldn’t believe how stupid you were. Almost as stupid as his captain and the dumb green haired swordsman.
„ y/n hey. Calm down. It’s okay. Nobody hates you. Shhh.“
His arms wrapped around you and held you in a tight embrace.
He almost chuckled thinking about what happend just a few hours before.
Law couldn’t take it anymore. The weather was already killing him. But seeing you in just your short bikini, laying just a few feet from him in the glistening sun. That was clearly to much.
He frowned under his breath. What a cruel joke. Almost as if his crew was behind an evil prank. Watching him, suffering all by himself.
He knew he was fucked the moment he saw you for the first time. He was just saying goodbye to his crew, when he spotted the newest crew member on deck. You were holding Chopper up like a toddler. Making sure he wasn’t gonna fall overboard, while still being able to see the other pirate ship.
Law had looked at you far to long for his liking. Your hair floating around you in the sea wind. And your bright smile lighting up his entire mood. You were mesmerizing.
How did Strawhat-ya always find these people? Law was almost jealous. Even tho he knew he wouldn’t be able to have a woman like you on his crew. It would never work out.
Looking up from his textbook he noticed you watching him again. In some wild fantasy in his head, he would wink at you now.
But Law was a serious man. He had things to do. And he couldn’t get distracted. Even tho the sight before him was definitely something he couldn’t forget in a while, he knew it wouldn’t be good if he was gonna stay sitting at this place. His mind was already wandering to very different places.
This wasn’t good.
Law exhaled and got up. He picked up the textbook before him and went inside. The kitchen wasn’t nearly as hot as the outside and definitely not as distracting.
The blonde cook was standing next to the stove preparing something that looked like dinner.
„ Hey. Is it okay if I sit here for a while?“
The cook turned around and gave him a kind smile.
„ sure. I don’t mind. Was it to hot for you outside?“
„ something like that.“ Law muttered, wishing he wouldn’t have noticed how the sentence had a double meaning. Ignoring Sanjis knowing grin he pretended to already be occupied with his book again.
During the afternoon, some crew members came by the kitchen. Law remained quietly seated at the table, absorbed in his studies.
Even when Nami and Robin entered the kitchen together, still dressed only in their bathing suits, Law did not look up from his work. There was no reaction to be seen on his face.
The others had been observing this behavior for a while. And Sanji was pretty sure by now.
His expression was mostly relaxed or thoughtful. Busy with his work. But that could change abruptly. Because Law showed some other forms of reaction as soon as you entered the room.
You had fallen asleep in the afternoon sun and after finding the deck empty, the first thing you did was head for the kitchen. A glass of water was now your only salvation.
Sanji saw you climb the stairs to the kitchen. And even though he would have liked to continue looking out of the window, enchanted by your face, he had more important things to do. His gaze darted back to the Surgeon of Death as inconspicuously as possible.
When you entered the room, he had already given himself away. Law's face was strangely tense. His eyes stared as unnaturally as Sanji had ever seen them, at the sheet of paper in front of him.
Bingo.
Sanji knew exactly what was going on.
Only when y/n turned to Sanji did Law look up from his book.
Law had to swallow. The view in front of him made him freeze for a moment. His mind going absolutely blank.
The next time Sanji turned his gaze to Law, he held his hand in front of his nose. He rushed out of the kitchen with a bright red head.
Sanji couldn't help but grin. So he had been right all along.
Nami, Robin and Sanji whispered through the night. Their captain laying and snoring between them. Luffy had initially been very excited about this secret meeting. But after he had found out that it was only about you and Law, he had fallen asleep from boredom.
"Haha, I knew it." Nami was beaming from ear to ear.
"Usopp doesn't stand a chance. I'll be rich tomorrow!!!"
"Oh Nami love, it can't just be all about money for you, can it? After all, it's about love, devotion and passion. Law is so attracted to Y/N that he can't even stand to be in the same room with her."
Sanji got heart eyes. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever witnessed. Oh to be in lovee..."
Robin giggled. "So what exactly are we going to do now?“
„ We have to get them to confess to each other !!“ Nami hushed to her friends „and not just for the money“ she added while holding her hands up in the air. Signaling a promise.
„ Maybe we could set up a romantic date for the two of them. I could cook their favorite meals and“ Sanjis lovestruck face suddenly changed into a dark frown.
„ Watch over them, because if Traffy tries to hurt my dear Y/Ns feelings I will kill him.“
„ Oh we shouldn’t do that Sanji, it would be more than stupid to do that. If he hurts her I will simply give him to the marines. At least we could make a profit like that.“ Nami was grinning proudly at her plan.
„ My dear friends, I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Let’s see, Franky said that he didn’t have time yet to repair the door to our storage room yet… let’s say for some unknown reason he doesn’t repair it until in a few days? I m sure there is enough other work around the sunny!“
„ What are you suggesting Robin, Dear?“
The dark haired woman placed her chin on her hand, grinning into the blonde cooks face with a mischievous look in her eyes.
„ You’ll see Sanji. You’ll see.“
168 notes · View notes
amiableness · 29 days
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Promises
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Pairing: Remus Lupink x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader and Remus get glimpses of their past life every time they touch
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: soulmate!au, past life memories, angst
A/N 💌 Repost!
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September 10th, 1973
It felt strangely familiar, an echo from a distant memory. There was something about him that sparked recognition as if you had known him once before. But it wasn’t possible. You had never crossed paths with this boy, never encountered him before. You were sure of it; his presence would have left a mark on your memory.
But every detail about him resonated with a sense of familiarity. You knew him, but you had never met him before.
From the tousled brown locks to the warmth in his soft brown eyes, radiating kindness. His shy smile, a flicker of vulnerability, and genuine warmth illuminated his face, setting a flutter through your stomach. The array of scars that adorned his pale skin. Even the way he laughed, with a genuine, carefree spirit, stirred something deep within—a flicker of recognition that lingered on the edges of your consciousness, waiting to be deciphered.
You stood, transfixed, in the bustling hallway of Hogwarts. Despite the pressing hour, the pull in your chest diverted your attention. Your feet rooted to the spot, your gaze drawn irresistibly to the boy just a few steps away.
Resisting the compelling urge to draw nearer, to feel his presence close to yours, you inhaled deeply, the weight of the moment heavy on your chest. Mentally preparing to pivot and stride toward your classroom, you hesitated. Then, his eyes met yours, a silent connection that arrested your heart, suffusing your being with a comforting warmth. It was a sensation of profound familiarity, akin to the embrace of a beloved after prolonged separation or the gentle touch of sunlight after days shrouded in rain.
You had met him before; you were sure of it now.
November 7th, 1975
It didn’t take long to learn his name: Remus Lupin. 
In the years following your initial encounter with him, his renown had grown significantly. As one of the four marauders, his presence resonated throughout the castle and was recognized by nearly everyone. He was regarded as sensible and known for his unwavering loyalty, boundless kindness, and selfless nature.
You had never engaged in conversation with him, finding solace in silently observing from a distance. However, in those infrequent moments when your gaze met his, it felt as if time itself paused, and a unique connection formed between you two. The surroundings faded away, leaving only the quiet acknowledgment shared in those silent exchanges.
It was as if your souls recognized each other, whispering of an unspoken history. Was that possible? 
Your grandmother often spoke of soulmates, eagerly sharing the story of how she had met your grandfather and instantly recognized him as the one. She would describe a sense of familiarity that enveloped her, as though she had loved him in a past life.
You had often questioned whether she genuinely believed her own words or if she had merely embellished the tale. Yet, when you gazed at Remus Lupin, understanding settled within you.
You were left in contemplation after every transporting glance, wondering whether he sensed the same inexplicable connection.
“Oh shit!” Lost in your thoughts, you scarcely registered the collision as a body slammed into your back, sending your book tumbling from your grasp with a resounding thunk against the ground. Startled, you whirl around, only to meet the panicked gaze of Sirius Black staring back at you.
"Merlin, I am so sorry!" Sirius sputters, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you on the shoulder. James and Peter stand behind him, their expressions clouded with guilt. 
It was clear they were caught up in roughhousing. Yet, what caught you off guard was seeing all three of them lingering near the entrance to the classroom. Normally, they'd dash in just moments before being tardy. In contrast, you tended to arrive early, relishing the calm before the storm of class. You had been leaning against the cold stone, lost in your thoughts, when Sirius collided into you with unexpected force.
Your eyes dart between each of the boys, searching for someone. Then, a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you find what you're looking for: "Here."
Remus Lupin stands before you, extending your battered copy of Jane Eyre in his outstretched hand. Your breath seems to have escaped your lungs, stolen by the moment, and your eyes are locked onto him. It's the closest you've ever been to him, and perhaps that's for the best, because every inch of your body tingles as if electrified.
"Thank you." You manage to mutter, your voice barely above a breath. As you reach out to take the book, your fingers accidentally skim over his thumb. Surprised, your eyes flicker down to where your skin brushed against his, simultaneously with Remus's gaze.
Instantaneously, a memory rushes back to you in an overwhelming wave. 
The gentle pressure of his hands on your waist as he twirls you around, the velvety tones of Billie Holiday’s voice emanating from the radio, the lingering aroma of dinner in the air, and the subtle taste of wine still lingering on your tongue.
As you sway to the rhythm, the soft glow of candlelight flickers, casting dancing shadows across the living room. The warmth of his touch, the gentle embrace of the wine settling in your belly, and the enchanting melody of the music all conspire to lull you into a state of contentment.
"I'll love you forever, m’love." He whispers softly, his gaze tender as he looks down at you. Your hair, elegantly styled, frames your face, and your lips, once adorned with a striking red, are now muted from the repeated press of the wine glass.
"I don't want you to go." You whisper, your voice barely audible, grappling with the looming prospect of his deployment. The mere thought of him not returning home to you tightens your throat, anticipating the tears that threaten to spill.
“I’ll always come back to you.” He promises, holding you tighter to him.
Remus jerks away from you, his expression mirroring the shock reverberating through you. Locked in a silent exchange of wide-eyed astonishment, you both stand there, grappling with the undeniable connection that just surged between you. There's no denying it; he must have felt it too. The way he’s looking at you 
Sirius, James, and Peter observe the two of you with perplexed expressions etched on their faces. With a muttered excuse me, you swiftly twirl around and stride into the classroom, leaving Remus to stare after you, his expression frozen in dumbfounded shock.
January 5th, 1976
For a week straight, the boys badgered Remus, demanding to know what had transpired between him and his Jane. Sirius had taken to calling you Jane, as none of the boys knew your actual name. Despite their persistence, Remus staunchly refused, adamantly denying that anything had happened at all.
In truth, he harbored a desire to hold onto the peculiar memory ignited by your touch. It felt astonishingly real, almost tangible in its vividness. Yet, he found himself at a loss for how to comprehend it, let alone process it, so he chose to bury it instead.
"There's Jane!" James exclaims, pointing you out as you navigate your way to the Hufflepuff table, settling in among your friends.
Lily's brow furrows. "Her name isn't Jane."
Suddenly intrigued by the conversation, Remus interjects, "You know her name?"
As Lily says your name, Remus feels that same jolt of familiarity he's experienced just a few months before, and every time he sees you, really. He repeats it incessantly in his mind, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of familiarity that sends shivers down his spine. He's uttered this name before, though the memory remains elusive, haunting him like a half-remembered dream.
His mind drifts back, enveloped in the memory of twirling you around the cozy living room, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows on the walls. He recalls the sensation of holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and the gentle brush of your wine-stained lips against his own. The faint scent of dinner lingering in the air, mingling with the sweet notes of the wine, creating an ambiance that he can almost reach out and touch. It's a memory so vivid, it's as if he's transported back to that moment, reliving every detail with startling clarity.
"Is she in our year?" Sirius asks, casting a curious glance at Remus, who appears just as dazed as he did the moment he touched you, lost in a world of his own thoughts.
"Yeah, she's incredibly sweet. I've been partnered with her in Potions before. Oddly enough, she sort of reminds me of Remus," Lily remarks, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. The boys steal a glance at Remus, who appears visibly startled by Lily's comparison.
"You know what's funny—" James begins, but before he can finish, Remus stands up abruptly, snatching his bag. He's not interested in James's humor at the moment; all he wants is to escape. His mind is a whirlwind, consumed by thoughts of you, and he can't shake them off.
"Don't feel very good, I'm gonna go lie down." He mutters gruffly before turning to walk away. His friends watch him depart, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor.
February 2nd, 1976
You had convinced yourself that whatever you felt, that haunting memory, was merely a byproduct of sleep deprivation. It had to have been, how else could you have explained it? Yet, each time your paths intersected and your gazes met, that inexplicable sense of familiarity would wash over you, leaving you grappling with unspoken emotions.
It had been a few months since the moment you and Remus had touched, yet the memory continued to flicker vividly in your mind, haunting your thoughts nearly every day. You longed for the presence of your grandmother, wishing you could confide in her about the inexplicable connection you felt. Somehow, you knew she would have an explanation for you. 
But deep down, you knew her inevitable conclusion: soulmates.
Soulmates weren’t real, it was just a term to describe how strongly two people felt about each other, right? You hadn't encountered anyone else who described an experience quite like yours. It seemed improbable, almost inconceivable.
But what else could it be? Perhaps, against all reason, you and Remus were soulmates. The idea hit you so abruptly that you found yourself momentarily breathless, nearly stumbling over your own feet. Shaking off the profound realization, you forced yourself to let go of thoughts about Remus and refocus on the present. Class is about to start, and you're not there yet — that needs your immediate attention.
As you collide with someone, you instinctively know it's Remus before you even lay eyes on him. His hand finds your waist, anchoring you, and your own hands fly to his shoulder, seeking stability.
There it is again, a newfound memory crashing into you.
"Promise me." Your voice pleads, your hands clinging tightly to his as you gaze up at him. Tears shimmer in your eyes, and you fight to keep them from falling, not wanting to add to his burden. Despite his attempts to hide it, he’s scared, and you can see right through his facade.
The sounds of farewells fill the air around you: children weeping, wives professing their love to their husbands, mothers ensuring their sons have everything they need. It's a cacophony of heartache, the anguish in everyone's voice echoing the weight of impending separation.
You despise it all, an urge to turn around and head home with him tugging at your heartstrings.
"I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make it back to you.” He vows, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. A sob escapes your lips as you cling to him tightly, unwilling to let go.
"M’love," He begins, his fingers tenderly brushing over your hair, a gentle attempt to offer solace in the face of overwhelming emotions. He understands his limitations, knowing he can only do so much. "I need you to look at me."
You comply, meeting his gaze. He presses your foreheads together, his hands cradling your cheeks. Tears cascade down your cheeks unabated, and you flinch at the anguished cries of a woman bidding farewell to her son nearby.
“I will come back to you, whether it’s in this life or the next. D’you hear me?”
You're the one who instinctively pulls away from Remus this time, a shiver coursing through you as the memory floods your senses. From the look on his face, etched with bewilderment and disbelief, you can tell he's relived the same haunting recollection.
"I don't understand," he starts, his hands momentarily rubbing at his eyes in a gesture of disbelief. He lowers them, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. "Tell me you saw it too," his voice trembles, a whisper weighted with uncertainty.
"I did," you confirm softly, feeling a surge of empathy. Taking a tentative step closer, you meet his gaze with reassurance. "Can I touch you again? I just want to see..” Your voice trails off as Remus nods and comes closer.
The hallways are deserted now, the notion of attending class fading into oblivion for both of you.
Remus extends his hand towards you, and you delicately place yours in his. Your hand trembles, betraying the bubbling of emotions within you, and Remus draws you closer as he notices.
The memory continues on easily in his grasp.
"You have to come back, I can't do this without you," You implore him, your voice trembling with emotion.
"You can, you have before." He reminds you gently, his thumb tenderly brushing away the tears on your cheeks.
"It's not the same without you." You insist, your heart heavy with the weight of impending separation.
He yearns to remind you of the countless lifetimes you've shared together, where even amidst separation in one, you've always managed to find each other again in the next. You know this, but it doesn’t make the pain of it any easier on either of you.
"We always find our way back to each other. No matter what happens, we'll find each other again." He assures you, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. 
"We're soulmates." Remus murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it reverberates through the air, heavy with emotion. Tears glisten in your eyes at the weight of his words, a confirmation of what your heart has always known.
"We are." You affirm softly, your voice trembling with shock. With a surge of emotion, you toss your arms over his shoulders, seeking solace in his embrace. Remus responds immediately, enfolding you in his arms, holding you close as if he never intends to let go.
It feels like coming home.
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198 notes · View notes
teyamsatan · 9 months
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
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synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.
wc: 7k words
a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)
pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!
na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
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I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage
"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."
Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.
"Yes?"
"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."
You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.
"I want to be more than this, too."
Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.
"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?
“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you�� mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her. 
You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.
"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.
You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right. 
“Fuck, your back…”
“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.” 
“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still. 
“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead. 
“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”
You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with. 
“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”
“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that. 
You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong
You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.
“What happened, O’i’en?” 
“What do you remember?”
“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target. 
“Nothing else.”
O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.
“What. Happened. O’i’en?” 
"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."
"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."
The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.
"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"
His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.
"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."
"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."
"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.
“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.” 
“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“
You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process. 
“No.” 
Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt. 
“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.” 
“I saw her… in the lineup.”
“The lineup?” 
“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.” 
Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.
“No…Oare, no…”
“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”
You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain
"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"
"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"
"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."
Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.
Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.
“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”
“I know where she is.”
He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit. 
It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.
Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out. 
"Leave."
Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.
“Why are you here? You should be resting.”
He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.
“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.” 
"Txepvi... Just co-"
"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."
He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.
"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.
I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone
“Why did you stay with me?” 
Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.
“Answer me, Neteyam.” 
“I don’t know.” 
You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.
It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.
“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”
I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard
"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."
"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"
“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“
“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."
"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.
"What do you mean?"
He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.
"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."
"Who?"
"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."
Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...
"He wasn't wrong."
I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying
You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.
"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.
“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"
“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.
Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.
“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.” 
“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “
“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"
All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust
Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.
"Just...Stop talking."
His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the  crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos. 
He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.
As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.
"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."
You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.
"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."
At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.
"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."
You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.
You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.
"F-fuck!"
"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."
"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."
Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.
He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.
His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.
"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."
You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.
The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.
I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....
I love you.
"Neteyam..."
"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."
You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.
"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."
For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.
You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me
It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.
"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."
Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.
You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.
In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.
“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”
Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough
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taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim
(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)
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yourmomxx · 9 months
Text
Family Line
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father of mine masterlist
summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,5k
a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!
pt1 pt2 pt3
Sioux Falls 2007
It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.
On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan’s flute.
“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”
Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.
“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.
“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”
“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.
Dean perked up and turned his head.
“Hey, my little love.”
A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.
Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.
Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.
Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.
Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.
Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.
“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.
Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.
Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.
They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.
They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.
Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.
“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”
“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.
“I was all alone.”
Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.
“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”
Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.
“Pinky promise?” She asked.
Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.
Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.
Still, he felt like a liar.
“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”
Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.
Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.
A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.
Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.
Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.
The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.
Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.
Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.
Sam smiled at them.
Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.
He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Na-na na na. Nana na-a.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”
Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.
“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”
Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.
Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.
A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.
Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.
And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.
After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.
The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.
Sam trailed behind.
They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.
Sam wouldn’t blame him.
You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.
Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.
“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.
Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.
“What happened?”
Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.
“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.
“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”
Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.
Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.
On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.
This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.
And you were next.
“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”
“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.
“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.
“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.
“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”
While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.
“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.
“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.
You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”
“It could be.”
You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”
And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.
But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”
“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.
You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”
Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.
Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”
“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”
You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”
Sam nodded. “Alright then.”
“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”
It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.
Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.
You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.
Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.
Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.
Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.
It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.
Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.
Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.
Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.
As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.
Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.
Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-
A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.
“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.
“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.
You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”
Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.
You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.
“That’s not even my point.”
“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”
Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.
“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”
Confused, you tilted your head.
“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.
“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”
“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“
“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek.
“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“
“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“
“It’s a group home.”
“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”
Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.
“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”
And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.
You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
St. George, Louisiana 2012
Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.
Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.
“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”
The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.
She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.
Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”
Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.
“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”
He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.
“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”
Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.
“Look, I know how that sounds.”
“I really hope you do.”
“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”
Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.
Dean looked out the window again.
“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”
He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.
“Well, then.” She sighed.
And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.
Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.
Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.
Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.
“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”
Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”
Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.
“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.
“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.
“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”
Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”
I promise that we’ll be fine.
I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.
I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.
Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.
“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.
He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.
“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.
“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”
“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”
Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.
“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.
Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.
“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”
Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”
Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.
It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.
He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.
Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.
Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.
His feet felt even heavier.
When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.
His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.
Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.
It was an obstacle.
Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.
Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.
Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.
It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.
A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.
Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.
The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.
From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.
“Hey,” you said.
Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.
“Hey,” he said back.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.
“Nah.”
“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.
“How you holdin’ up?”
Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”
Finn sighed.
There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.
“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”
He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.
“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.
Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.
“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”
Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.
“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.
Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.
For a while, it was quiet again.
“My father is here,” you then blurted out.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”
“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”
The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.
“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”
You pursed your lips and nodded.
Finn blinked in disbelief.
“Wow,” He breathed out.
“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”
Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”
You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.
“Idiot.”
Finn grinned. “You love me.”
You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”
A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.
Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.
Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.
“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”
Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”
You swallowed and nodded.
Then you left the room.
Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.
Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-
You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.
But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.
The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.
--
Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.
Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.
“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.
Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”
“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”
You nodded.
You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.
You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.
You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.
Like hell it was.
Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.
Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?
The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.
--
The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.
Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.
“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.
--
Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.
Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.
“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.
You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.
Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.
Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.
“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“
Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.
By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.
“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.
Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.
What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.
Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.
The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.
It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.
In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”
Alright, so no gremlin then.
Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.
Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?
--
“So how do you kill it?”
Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.
“Wait – vampires bleed?”
Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”
You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”
Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.
Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.
“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”
Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”
You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.
--
The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.
You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.
The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.
The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.
The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.
You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.
Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.
Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.
Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.
“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.
Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.
“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”
You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.
“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”
Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.
And very likely, it was.
-- It was quiet again.
From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.
The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.
At school, at the movies, going out to eat.
You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.
Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.
The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.
“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.
“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.
Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.
“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”
You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.
Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.
“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.
“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”
You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.
“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”
“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”
Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.
“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.
“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”
“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.
“Y/N, you don’t get it-“
“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.
“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”
Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.
You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.
“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”
You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.
You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.
“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”
“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”
You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”
Dean sighed and took a step back.
“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”
“I don’t believe in signs.”
“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.
“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.
--
The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.
You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.
The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.
This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.
Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.
You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?
But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.
They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.
Damn life lessons that are right.
“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.
You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.
“Hey,” you answered.
“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”
Both of you let out quiet laughs.
“You first,” He said.
You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.
“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”
Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.
“But now they’re here, and I just-“
“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.
At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”
Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.
The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”
“You’re still younger than me.”
“I don’t care. I love you.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.
Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.
Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.
His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.
He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.
Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.
“You ready?” He asked.
Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.
“Yeah.”
Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.
Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.
The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.
And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.
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taglist:
@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts
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f1letters · 1 year
Text
lavender haze | mv1
"I been under scrutiny, you handle it beautifully"
summary: after winning his second championship in another controversial way, max needed her by his side more than ever as the media tried to tear him apart
warning: a little bit of angst for Max, but overall fluff for the couple, swearing, suggestive language, mentions of the championship-deciding races of Abu Dhabi GP 2021 and Japan GP 2022 from Max's point of view, mentions of scrutiny from the media, Jos Verstappen lol
pairing: max verstappen x reader
word count: 2.8k
note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past. also, I would like to point out that I didn't write this as a personal opinion/critique of Ted or anyone involved in the whole Sky Sports scandal (which is why I didn't use his name or his exact words in the story and why I only used the controversy as a reference/inspiration very loosely), but rather wrote about what I imagine were the thoughts/feelings of people on Max's side (himself, the Red Bull team, Jos, etc), regarding this matter.
dutch words used: schatje = baby; liefje = honey
and we are back! once again, thank you all for being so understanding about me skipping last weekend 💜 I hope you enjoy this little story, as always!
masterlist
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Meet me at midnight
Ever since he was just a little boy, all Max dreamed of was being a Formula 1 champion.
To have his name written in the history books. To have his legacy immortalized in the records for eternity.
From then, Max spent all of his hours, days, weeks, months and years preparing for it. He gave all of his blood, sweat and tears for it.
For that exact moment: when he stood right there in Japan, tall and proud, with his trophy in hand, after being announced World Champion for the 2nd time.
Lying in bed that night, staring at the ceiling next to his girlfriend, the driver could still feel the euphoria coursing through his veins.
He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be in that position. 
He had everything he could ever want: his biggest dream came true twice, he had a successful career that so many envied, and most of all, he had the best person in the world by his side.
At the end of the day, it didn't matter all the money, the victories, the parties, the luxury if he couldn't have her there in his arms.
Y/N was everything to him, and he knew that the championship victory was as much hers as his.
Max let his hand run through the shiny strands of his partner's hair, the warm skin of their bodies pressed together, while Y/N drew random figures with her soft fingers across the man's toned chest.
The couple remained in each other's arms, not saying too much, both still over the moon and completely in awe from the unforgettable day they just had.
"I'm so proud of you, my love." Y/N broke the silence installed in the hotel room, whispering her words. "You can't imagine how happy I am for you."
Staring at the ceiling with you
Oh, you don't ever say too much
And you don't really read into
My melancholia
Max half smirked with his eyes half closed as sleep began to creep in.
With his eyes locked on the girl before him, the boy tucked the hair that covered her face behind her ear and stayed like that for a few minutes. Just living in the moment, letting her words sink in, appreciating what life had given him.
"Thanks, schatje. For everything." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm completely crazy about you, you know that?"
Y/N laughed shyly, moving her body even closer to her boyfriend's, laying down on his chest. "Stop, Max! You know I get all embarrassed when you start saying stuff like that."
"You stop! I'm just telling the truth!" Their laughter filled the room in pure harmony. Max stopped, returning to his moment of gratitude. "I just love you. So much, Y/N. This is all thanks to you."
"This is all thanks to your talent, baby." The young woman rested her cheek against the driver's bare shoulder. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Y/N knew that Max would immediately understand what she was trying to say.
The girl couldn't help but fear that the Dutchman would let all the scrutiny behind yet another championship win bring him down.
Max had a whole facade around him. Max appeared to be confident, poised, collected, unfazed by all adversity, and sometimes even self-centred and arrogant because of his posture on the track. 
But deep down, Max was nothing but a fragile little boy, still trying to seek his father's approval.
Max was obsessed with perfection. Everything he had to do had to be absolutely spot on: every corner had to be perfectly executed, his car had to be at its best at all times, any position other than the first one was simply not good enough.
Knowing him better than anyone, Y/N knew how to handle him beautifully and knew that in the back of Max's mind, the fact that this was yet another victory tainted by controversy was tormenting him, even if he tried to hide it.
I've been under scrutiny
You handle it beautifully
All this shit is new to me
Both of them could only imagine all the headlines, the comments, the criticism. All because of a loophole that was never under the driver's control.
"Don't worry about me." Max answered the unspoken question the girl posed. "I don't give a damn what people say."
The harsh words that came out of his mouth seemed to be an attempt to convince himself more than her. They both knew that.
It had been almost a year since the boy had been named champion for the first time and yet to that day he still suffered attacks due to something that (once again) was not in his power to change.
Y/N didn't push, knowing the argument was going nowhere, and instead chose to joke with her boyfriend to lighten the mood. "Well, I don't know if you know this... but you look so much hotter as a two-time world champion."
Happiness filled Max's chest as he chuckled, turning their position so that his body was on top of hers. His lips roamed over her neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles along the way, until he strayed away to deposit an intense and passionate kiss on her mouth.
His head lifted slightly, creating enough distance between them for him to speak, though their lips were still touching. "What if I showed again how it feels like to fuck a two-time world champion, hmm?"
I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me
So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say
No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me
I just wanna stay in that lavender haze
Two weeks passed until the next race, the couple trapped in their lavender haze.
The Texas sun cut through the clouds in the sky and reflected warmly on the girl's skin as she entered the circuit, side by side with Carola.
Both friends over the last few years since they met in the Red Bull garage through their partners, the young women understood each other perfectly: both were reserved, with no great desire for attention on them, just there to support their lovers.
As always, a peaceful and relaxed conversation was taking place between the two, as they strolled around the paddock with smiles on their faces. 
Carola told Y/N all about the latest incident at the Perez house, with the small sibling clashes between Checo Jr. and Carlota, and the other girl just laughed. She knew how happy those children made her friend and she couldn't wish anything else for Carola.
Suddenly the mood around them seemed to change. 
The environment that before was serene, relaxed, and enthusiastic now gave off a heavy, tense, nervous energy.
Y/N started looking into the faces of the people they passed for answers, aware that they were looking at her. What the fuck is going on, she thought to herself.
Carola sensed the discomfort on her friend, placing a concerned hand on the girl's shoulder. "Y/N, are you okay?"
"Well, I'd like to know the answer to that question too," Y/N confessed without too much thought. "I don't know, honestly. I have a feeling something is wrong."
"Maybe it's nothing," The Mexican tried to calm her down, running her hand up and down along her friend's forearm, although she was aware of the gazes in their direction too. "We're almost at the garage and we'll clear everything up."
Walking through the navy blue walls, the tension only intensified in the air. 
The faces of the team members showed worry and nervousness, and the PR team rushing back and forth relentlessly was a sign that something had gone wrong during the drivers' media duties following their practice session.
Knowing Max like the back of her hand... Y/N knew it was him.
All they keep asking me
Is if I'm gonna be your bride
The only kind of girl they see
Is a one-night or a wife
"Hey, where's Max?" Y/N asked her father-in-law, Jos, who wore an angry look on his face. Although their relationship was distant, she knew that if anyone was aware of everything that was going on in her boyfriend's career, it was his father.
"Would also like to know." The man replied dryly, running a hand impatiently through his hair. "He just walked out of here like a fucking coward, and left the others here to sort out his shit."
Y/N swallowed hard, knowing it wasn't worth wasting time trying to defend Max as all the words she would say would go in one ear and out the other. "What happened?"
"That shitty reporter, that's what happened." The older Verstappen replied, raising his tone. "That bastard had the nerve to say on live TV that Max didn't deserve any of his titles, and he panicked like a pussy. I didn't raise him like that - I raised him to be a man, not a little boy."
Without a second thought, Y/N turned her back on the man and grabbed her phone, trying to call her partner, only for her call to go to voicemail.
Unconsciously, the girl opened her Instagram and immediately came across the reporter's now-viral video.
"He doesn't seem to be capable of winning a championship without some sort of scandal. First, Hamilton was obviously ripped off in Abu Dhabi; now, they award full points in a race that wasn't even half finished because of some apparent 'loophole'?! Favouritism at its best."
All of a sudden, the air seemed to have difficulty getting into the girl's lungs, the temperature seemed to have risen dramatically, and Y/N started to feel dizzy as the media started to bring up Max's history.
Max, where are you, she asked herself, begging for a sign of his presence.
I find it dizzying
They're bringing up my history
But you aren't even listening
Y/N looked everywhere: in the garage, in his driver's room, in all the different rooms in the motorhome, in the back of the building, in the cafeteria, everywhere. 
She was starting to run out of options, but she knew he had to be around somewhere since his exit from the circuit would not be discreet at all, quite the contrary.
If I were Max where would I hide from the world, she reflected, desperate to be reunited with her boyfriend. Of course! In the place where everyone least expected to find him.
With a hurried step and depositing complete confidence in this last and risky idea, Y/N set off on her way until she came face to face with the red walls, embellished with the Prancing Horse symbol.
Deviating towards the back of the Ferrari building, Y/N felt her heart return to its normal rhythm when she set her eyes on the image of his lover.
There he was, sitting on the grass, with his vision pointed to the sky, so small and so fragile that no one else would be able to see him hiding there.
The girl slowly approached the driver, almost afraid to startle him, until he eventually noticed her presence when she was only a few inches away from him. His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sight of his girlfriend, and a small, forced smile appeared on his face.
"Of course you found me," Max whispered, placing his hand on the girl's thigh, who was now sitting on the grass next to him. "I guess you already know what happened."
Y/N laid her head on his shoulder, hugging his strong arm. "Yeah, I saw it... I'm sorry Max, you don't deserve this."
I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me
So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say
No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me
I just wanna stay in that lavender haze
That lavender haze
"I don't really care," Max spoke, shaking his head. "Let them say what they want. It doesn't matter to me."
"Baby…" The young woman knew that he was doing what he always did: bottling it up inside, hiding his feelings, just like he was taught to do his whole life.
"Liefje, don't worry. I'm fine, I promise."
"Max, stop doing this." Y/N touched his face, forcing him to look at her with his noticeably teary eyes.
"Y/N-"
"Max, please." The girl begged. "You don't have to pretend to be strong with me. You can be honest; you can scream, cry, freak out, you name it, and I'll always be here to listen."
The Dutchman took a deep breath in acceptance, leaning his head back against the red wall. "I'm just tired, you know? I try and try to do my best at all times and it's never enough. Not for the media, not for my dad, or-"
"For me, it's more than enough." The girlfriend interrupted. "And it should be enough for you too. You shouldn't care what others say… Especially your father." She teased, forcing a laugh out of Max's mouth.
The boy contemplated her words for a few seconds, placing a kiss on her temple. "I love you, you're the best."
"I know," She replied, bumping his shoulder playfully. "But I'm serious, Max. No one should have enough power over you that they can make you feel inferior, or less than you are. You are Max fucking Verstappen, two-time Formula 1 world champion. And so much more to come, I don't doubt it for a second."
Talk your talk and go viral
I just need this love spiral
Get it off your chest
Get it off my desk
Talk your talk and go viral
I just need this love spiral
Get it off your chest
Get it off my desk
The girl jumped to her feet, waking the driver from his own thoughts, and reached out to him with both her hands to help him get up on his feet too. "Come on, champ! Enough sulking here and let's face the world with our heads held high, shall we?"
Much calmer after getting it off his chest, Max looked at her with eyes shining with pride and, accepting her help, he got up. Instantly, his arms found their place around her waist, as did his lips on hers.
The couple shared a calm kiss, enjoying their moment of peace in the midst of such a chaotic situation.
"Thanks, schatje." Max said, returning his mouth to hers seconds later. "I can never thank you enough for everything you've done and do for me every day."
"I would do anything for you, baby." Y/N smiled wide, the dimples in her cheeks becoming noticeable. "Anything."
I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me
So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say
No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me
I just wanna stay in that lavender haze
On their way to the Red Bull garage, the two reappeared in the paddock, hand in hand, eyes only on each other.
With them, dozens of photographers and journalists emerged from the shadows, hunting the Dutchman for his comments and trying to get controversial headlines for their next articles.
But from Max, they only managed to take away the magical smile he had stamped on his face while talking to his girlfriend.
It was almost as if nothing had happened to him, such was the confident and determined posture the driver now assumed.
There was nothing like a good dose of love to make someone feel on top of the world, and Max was living proof of that in front of all those prying eyes.
Get it off your chest
Get it off my desk
That lavender haze
I just wanna stay
The world could crumble around them and they would still manage to stay on their feet.
They were a team. They had the perfect balance between them, the strength to face any obstacle together. Like two separate souls born to be reunited, in this life and all lives to come. Born to be on their lavender haze forever.
"Just you and me, liefje." Max whispered so only she could hear over the screams and camera flashes.
Y/N pulled him by the arm closer to her body in search of the comfort he conveyed to her every time, and smiled discreetly at him.
"You and me against the world, my love."
I just wanna stay
In that lavender haze
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taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis
@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog-blog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12
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(taglist continues in the comments)
thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌
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erule · 3 months
Text
Nothing you can take | c.s.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: you and Sejanus make a bet involving you and Coriolanus, that you’ll have to become a couple in order to get some money from him, but everything changes when the two of you fall in love for each other for real.  
Warnings: fake dating AU, (kinda) enemies to lovers, bet to fall in love trope (if I can call it like that), sunshine x grumpy/black cat x golden retriever trope, light violence and mention of blood, romance, comedy (I think), (probably) slow burn, fluff, angst
Word count: every chapter of the series will have a different amount of words 
A/N: hi! Here we go with my first Coriolanus story!! I don’t know if Coriolanus is OOC here, because I watched the movie like one month ago and I still have to read the book, but I did my best to make him similar to the character I saw. Anyway this is a fanfiction, so please don’t be mad at me if he’ll be, I’ll probably need him to be for the storyline. I apologize to the people in the tags, because I’m really late with the upload, but I’ve been really busy in the past few weeks. Anyway, I hope you like it. Enjoy! X 
Tag list: @meeksity, @mxacegrey, @astess, @jasmineee05. 
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Prologue – Don’t fall in love with me 
“Coriolanus Snow? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. What’s the matter, Y/N? You think you can’t make him fall in love with you?” Sejanus asks with a grin. 
“Oh no, I was just thinking about the amount of money you’re gonna give me when I’ll win”.
“Don’t, he’s not easy”.
“A challenge, uh? Even better!” You exclaim. “Now excuse me, but I have to go. Before your last drink, watch me sing and put under my spell mister Coriolanus Snow”.
“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wan’t to fall in love, right? People say he’s got a very cute pair of blue eyes”.
“I prefer the color green as my money, Sejanus. Prepare to lose”.
“I think you don’t know what’s coming for you, Y/N”.
You run to the stage, your place in the world, where you can finally give free scope to your passion: singing. Singing has always made you feel free, but tonight, perhaps due to the tension of the challenge, you feel a constriction in your chest. You and a little tipsy Sejanus have agreed on a bet against Coriolanus, but you have a better idea to win: you will tell him everything immediately, in order to pretend to be together for a while, so Sejanus will pay you and you will split the money with Coriolanus. No one will be fooled in the end, right? And then everyone knows that he needs that money too, so he certainly won't suffer from it. While you taste the victory on the tip of your tongue, the words escape your mouth. You apologize to the audience and your gaze falls right on Coriolanus, who isn't paying you the slightest attention, while he's drinking a beer on the sidelines, his Peacekeeper uniform making his eyes as blue as the tide stand out. Sure, Sejanus was right, but that doesn't change anything: a pair of light eyes isn't enough to make you fall in love.
Coriolanus Snow goes to the Academy, he dresses well, but that doesn't mean he's rich, far from it. You, on the other hand, were kicked out of the Academy because you didn't like their behavior, which is why Sejanus is your best friend. You always had the feeling that Coriolanus liked to follow the rules, but in reality he probably preferred to have control, power or money more than a conscience. That's why he's never been kicked out and you've never particularly bonded. It's not that you're greedy, no, it's just that you need money for your family and if a stupid bet can get it easily, then you will do anything to earn it, since the pub doesn't pay you enough for your fantastic shows. And anyway, Coriolanus is certainly an attractive guy, which isn't a bad thing.
“This song is dedicated to all the handsome blue-eyed boys here,” you announce, then grin, while some of your fellow soldiers make fun of Coriolanus and he finally notices your presence. “This song is called Nothing you can take from me and I dedicate it to my old school friend, Coriolanus Snow. Come say hello to me later, Coryo!” You exclaim with a wink and notice his gaze shift to you. For a second, just one, you feel a shiver run down your spine. You would never have believed that playing with fire could make you feel so cold.
Your song makes everyone present dance, everyone except him obviously, who continues to stare at you coldly, without smiling or saying a word, like a marble statue and this almost scares you. It also happened at the Academy, but there you didn't pay attention to it, also because there was no need to win his attention, but here there is a lot of money at stake and you need it desperately.
You descend onto the stage with a feline leap, you leave your guitar aside, while a roar of applause and compliments accompanies you behind the scenes, hoping that Coriolanus will follow you. The door closes behind you, but when you turn around, no one is there. Well, no big deal, it means you'll go look for it later or tomorrow at the latest, there's no rush anyway. But you feel observed and this sensation worries you a lot: it's as if you have someone behind your back.
"Well?"
You turn around, surprised that he's there. Up close he's taller than you remember and you can see his blonde hair well, even though it's shaved. His arms are crossed as he looks you up and down, but without eyeballing you, just a look of pure curiosity painted on his face. So why do you feel like a hunted animal?
“Coryo”.
"Do not call me that. You asked me to come here, right? You asked for my attention in front of everyone. I'm here now. What, the cat got your tongue?” He asks you, a crooked smile somewhere between amused and mischievous that gives a sinister light to his face. He has enough charm to seem like the Devil.
“Don't get any illusions, it's just a game”.
“I don't like playing and you don't like winning, as far as I know.”
“Those games are abominable and I think you know it too, since you're here, right?” You ask him. His smile fades and inside you rejoice, because you know you've hit the mark.
“Speak quickly, Y/N, the rooster crows early in the morning.”
“I have a proposition for you,” you tell him, getting dangerously close to him. He doesn't take a step back, but you see him on guard, almost as if he expects to be stabbed at any moment. “I bet Sejanus that I would make you fall in love with me,” you reveal to him and he smiles wickedly. “I only did it because he promised me money in return and my family needs it. I'm telling you this because I think we could pretend to be together for a while so he'll think we're really in love. In the end, I will split the money with you, since you need it as much as I do,” you explain to him.
For a moment, he observes you, perhaps because he is trying to understand whether you are sincere or not, then he nods, his face serious.
“You know, maybe I was wrong about you: you like winning as much as I do.”
“I wouldn't play if it wasn't for a serious reason. We both know that Sejanus pays and well."
“But he's your friend, right? I wonder why he is doing all this."
“Maybe he's just bored.”
“Perhaps,” Coriolanus repeats, thoughtfully. “Anyway, Tigris must never know. I only ask for this in return,” he says and you offer him your hand.
"Deal".
“And try not to fall in love with me, Y/N. Unlike many others, I don't like playing. You wouldn't survive."
“There's no danger, Coriolanus,” you say, shaking his hand.
Now you feel less sure: why do you feel like you've just sealed a pact with the Devil?
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sim0nril3y · 7 months
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Workplace Distractions
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon spends the night keeping you company at work. Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, tiny bit of angst, derogatory comments.
“Oh, that is sweet of you to ask, but I’m actually working tonight…” Well fuck, didn’t he feel like a plank for putting himself out there and asking you out for another drink. Simon kicked himself for not remembering you mentioning your work hours. It had certainly been something that you had mentioned to him. Bloody hell, there wasn’t much that you hadn’t mentioned to him now that he thought about it. With most things you were an open book and that was refreshing. “Maybe you could pop into the pub I work in…” You announced then breaking the silence. “If you keep me company for a little while I can promise you cheap drinks.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in Simon’s throat. It wasn’t like he had anything planned for tonight anyway. “Where’d you work again?”  “The Golden Lion.” Oh, right. Yeah, he remembered that too. It was actually a place he used to visit often when he first moved down South. Back then the owner was a little more hands-on with working behind the bar, there certainly weren’t any pretty girls like you working there. “I’ll be there…” He agreed knowing that he could almost hear the smile that pulled across your face. “You better keep your word about those cheap drinks, love.”
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The pub was just as rundown as Simon remembered, the carpeted floors were marked with deep stains of something Simon didn’t want to dwell on too much, the windows were frosted and filthy, all the drink bottles of the top shelves were caked in dust and the bar itself was chipped and broken in several different places. This place was just lacking a bit of TLC. Across the room there was a rowdy group of lads watching the live MMA fight on the TV, a couple regulars sat nearby quietly drinking, a few others were occupying the batter pool table.
It was nice to see you during your shift. The moment that you had seen him perched at the bar you face brightened and instantly you were by his side checking if he needed anything or wanted a refill. You were far more attentive to him than anyone else that approached the bar. God, that made him feel fucking fantastic. He really loved that you would get so engrossed telling him a story that people would have to ask twice to get your attention and each time your attention was drawn away from him you seemed frustrated.
A sharp set of fingers snapped rudely in their direction. “Honey, ‘nother drink…” The drunk rudely tapped his empty glass against the bar. Simon didn’t miss the way that you rolled those precious eyes before sweeping away to prepare his order. “S’bout fuckin’ time…” A dangerous set of eyes began to observe him from afar. A bit of respect wouldn’t go amiss. A little less attitude wouldn’t be too much to ask. Simon watched as the man swayed, stilling himself on the bar itself whilst those glazed eyed cast down your exciting frame. It made his blood boil. Fuck. It wasn’t like they were even a couple but Simon couldn’t stand another set of eyes drinking you in.
Once you had taken payment, stashing the money into the till and then wandered back to stand opposite Simon again. “Alright?” For a moment longer his eyes lingered on the retreating drunk, sliding into the background seamlessly. “Si?” His attention snapped back to you in a second. Nobody called him Si, or well at least not since his mum was alive. Fuck, his head was a mixture of emotions. Was it something he liked? Was it too personal? Was that nickname reserved for her? Could it be shared? “Try not to pay them any notice. They’re all just a bunch of larger louts.” Then shrugging your shoulders as if you dealt with this regularly – well, working in this place you probably did.
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A few times that night Simon found himself outside for a smoke. Each time it gave him a moment to think with a clear mind. Could he really keep doing this? Was it really fair to you? Could he even give you what you wanted emotionally? Did you even want anything emotionally? It put his mind at ease to at least know that weren’t expecting anything physically from him you had made that very clear.
“Pwah, mate. I’d give it to her.” A rowdy voice snapped from behind him as a group of lads exited the pub, lighters and cigarettes in hand. “Which one?” “Which one do you think? The barmaid…” They were talking about you. Fuck, he could feel his temper rising at just the mention of your description on their tongues. “Mate, I just know that she’s gaggin’ for a bit of cock. Been givin’ me the eye all night.” They all laughed between them and Simon threw down his cigarette in the next second.
“Oi…” Christ, why was he even picking this fight? It wasn’t like you were even a couple… but fuck, hearing them talk about you like that was fucking soul destroying. It wasn’t going to happen. Not whilst he was around to solve the problem. “That’s enough now. You might wanna show a little respect.” It could have ended there. It really could have, but these lads seemed not to take Simon’s warning all that well. No, instead they picked a fight. 3 against 1. It really wasn’t fair… for them.
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Last call came and went and in groups people seemed to leave. You wandered over to him as your colleague got to work cleaning tables and collecting errant glasses. “Thanks for coming tonight, Simon. You being here actually made work bearable.” Fuckin’ hell. He could see that look in your eye. It was dangerous, he knew that, but no part of him was able to walk away or explain to you that this was difficult for him. “I’m working again tomorrow, if you want to… pop by…” Then shrugging your shoulders.
“Wouldn’t miss it…” Fuck, eventually he was going to have to put an end to this. It was going to hurt, maybe it would actually hurt him more than it would hurt you, but… but he couldn’t be selfish about you. He couldn’t keep just stringing you along thinking that he might be able to give you a normal relationship or life. No, deep down Simon knew that the only right thing to do was end this, but… but that couldn’t happen tonight and… and you were counting on him being there tomorrow. No, he would find a good time to do it, but right now you needed him.
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Masterlist | Ask | 01-09-2023
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nolita-fairytale · 11 months
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try a little tenderness | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader one shot
summary: on the anniversary of mikey's death, you help carmy find a way to grieve. (set in the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone piece)
warnings: swearing, grief, mild angst, mentions of death & suicide, second person pov, no use of y/n
wc: 2.3k
a/n: i wrote this as a way to process my own grief over the loss of a close friend to suicide. i fell so deeply in love with 'the bear' because i saw myself in so many of these characters: how they responded to losing mikey, the nature of the loss, and the ways they fought their grief. i see so much of myself in carmy in the show and this ended up being really cathartic to write, even though it's been three years now. anyways, heavy shit ahead so don't feel obligated to read but thank you if you do.
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(banner made by @allthefandomstogether)
Grief is a funny thing. 
For Carmy, most days it’s something easy to ignore – like an old friend that he’s managed to cut out of his day to day. He’s stopped calling, stopped picking up the phone, eliminated any and all thought about this thing that feels so foreign yet, so familiar at the same time. 
But now he has you – and he’s never been able to bullshit you for shit. Some days, he feels like you see right through him. He knows he’s been irritable, short, impatient at the restaurant (and sometimes at home too). It’s something you handle better than he expected – better than he thinks he deserves. 
“Honey, can we take a pause from this conversation? I just don’t think either of us are in the right headspace,” you’d asked him the other day when he’d tried to pick a fight with you. Completely caught off guard, Carmy had stared at you blankly in response, as if you’d suggested you both run naked down the street.
“If you wanna fight, we can fight. I just… don’t think this is what you’re upset about,” you’d explained, before slipping into the bedroom with the book you were halfway through. 
And today, after he’d tried to pick another fight with you, you’d stopped him again, like a tornado hitting an immovable wall. 
“Carmy, I’m not going to fight you about the dishes,” you’d sighed, shooting him a sympathetic look. “I’m gonna take a walk and pick some things up at the store for dinner. Is that still something you’d like to do?”
How could he forget when he’d been making his brother’s family recipe earlier that day, setting the braciole-filled dutch oven in the fridge to be put into the oven for later? But he almost has – another symptom of how checked out he’s been all week. 
He’s not used to this. He’s used to his siblings – his mom – picking fights over the smallest things that usually escalated into a screaming match. And while you were willing to fight over things that felt worthy to go to bat for, always quick to call him out when he’s being a dick, you don’t engage in his smaller, more frivolous attempts at starting something over the smallest, nitpicky things. 
It’s a whole new pattern for him, and he’ll admit, it’s harder than you make it look. 
Earlier in the week, he knew he’d been in a trash mood. Then he looked at the calendar and saw what date was coming:
2/22/23. 
Oh. 
No wonder he’s been such an ass. 
And now wonder you’ve been such a saint.  
“Oh, um…” he stammers, as he realizes his memory has failed him again. “Uh… yeah, we can still do that.”
He’d forgotten you’d made plans for dinner in preparation for today, and truthfully, he’d been so absent-minded all week that he’s forgotten – forgotten about the plan, forgotten about what day it was, forgotten that that day was now today. Thankfully, you’d had the sense to make sure he was off that day, coordinating with the staff of The Bear to make it happen. While you knew everyone would be grieving today, you weren’t interested in a repeat of last year when the both of you were still in New York.
Sydney, the real hero of this story, had moved mountains to get everyone’s schedules nailed down for this week – knowing it’d be a hard week for everyone that knew and loved Mikey. 
“No, we do not need a repeat of last year,” Sydney had agreed, as you’d explained to her the shit show that was Carmy going into work that night, one year ago. “Don’t worry. I’ll run the kitchen. Tap as many newer staff as I can to work too.”
With the recent press about The Bear (not to mention Sydney’s official James Beard finalist status) there’d been a huge increase in applicants lately. You couldn’t thank Syd enough. 
“Okay. I love you, Carm. I’ll be back in a bit,” you reassure, before grabbing his keys and your coat.
“Yeah,” he mutters quietly, as he watches you go. 
*
After lighting up a few in the apartment, he lays down on the couch, turning on something mind-numbing to not pay attention to on the TV. He’s not sure when or how long it takes him to drift off to sleep, but one minute he’s blinking his eyes closed, and the next he can hear the sounds of pots and pans clamoring around the kitchen. 
He feels guilty: guilty for being an ass, guilty for trying to start something, guilty about what Mikey did.
You’ve told him time and time again: “I don’t think it’s fair to yourself to carry this much blame, Bear.” While normally, he’d love the way his familial nickname sounded coming from you, he’d winced at the mention – just because today, it hits a little too close to home. 
He knows it’s not fair to himself – or to you – but it’s something he’s just not ready to let go of yet. 
He can smell the braciole he’d prepared earlier that day; you’ve already put it in the oven, letting it braise slowly like it was meant to be. He recalled the conversation you both had had about this a few weeks ago. 
“Let’s make a meal he’d like,” you’d proposed, wanting to be a supportive 
“The braciole. Or maybe his spaghetti,” he’d suggested, so matter-of-factly that you could tell he was trying to mask his emotions.
“Maybe both?” you’d countered him. 
“Yeah,” he‘d agreed, quick to put himself out of the discomfort the conversation was causing him. 
“How do you feel about maybe asking some of the others to stop by, Only if they want. Only if you’re up for it,” you’d continued, cautiously. 
“Can I let you know?” he’d asked. 
“Sure,” you’d agreed, even though you knew he wouldn’t be bringing it up again. 
As Carmy sits up from the couch, his mind drifting back to the present, he sees you posted up in front of his little apartment’s stove top, working on his brother’s spaghetti sauce. Pangs of guilt fill his chest, and he feels like absolute garbage for being a dick earlier. He can’t picture doing anything else tonight and he’s glad you had the foresight to do this. Carmy rubs the sleep out of his eyes, watching you move around the kitchen. You’ve got a window open just in case that tricky little smoke alarm goes off while you’re steeping the garlic in olive oil. 
You’re busy trying to maneuver the largest saute pan Carmy owns over the burner for maximum heat exposure when he approaches. The sun’s already set, and the heat from the kitchen leaves a fog on the windows right near the stove, as you shake the saute pan by its handle. 
“Hey,” Carmy says, his voice rough with sleep. 
“Hey,” you reply, a soft smile on your lips as you turn to him. “Sleep alright?”
His unruly curls seem exceptionally messy this evening, and you can smell the remnants of the cigarettes he smoked while you were out. You hate how sexy you still find the nasty habit, even though you’ve tried your best to get him to cut back, citing lung cancer as a top reason. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re eager to taste the cigarettes on his lips, wiping your hands on your jeans because, unlike Carmy, you could care less to wear an apron at home. Framing his face with both of your hands, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, breathing him in as he kisses you back. 
“Sorry I was an ass earlier,” Carmy says, in between kisses. 
“Thanks. You’re kind of allowed to be an ass today though,” you say back. 
He can’t believe you’re letting him off the hook this easily. 
“And what about tomorrow?” he asks, taking a more playful approach this time. 
“No, definitely not. Cut off. Ass privileges? Revoked,” you’re quick to banter back, earning a dry laugh from your boyfriend. 
As you return to your post in front of the stove, Carmy slaps your butt playfully from your earlier comment, eliciting a giggle from you as he does it. He watches you work, adding salt to the tomato, onion, and butter you’re reducing in the saute pan, while the saucepan-filled olive oil/garlic/basil mixture comes up to a simmer. 
“I know you’ve always said that Mikey’s pasta was over-sauced and under seasoned… but it sounds like he just needed a little extra salt and a few little tweaks here and there,” you continue, tasting the tomato sauce. 
He’s not ready to taste the sauce just yet, even though he’d suggested you make the spaghetti in the first place. He watches as you use a spoon to check for salt levels, tasting the sauce first. You throw your head back as the salty tomato mixture hits your tongue. Carmy watches you carefully as you remove the sprig of basil with a pair of tongs, tossing it into a deli container for the trash later. Placing the deli container on the counter next to the rest of things you need to dispose of, his eyes linger on the 28 oz San Marzanos. 
Because the small ones taste better…. 
You busy yourself with straining the oil, setting it aside to add to the sauce towards the end of the process. Carmy checks his phone briefly, seeing a few texts from Richie, Syd, and Tina – all just checking in. 
“Silly question, I know. But how are you doing?” you ask him, having found a good stopping point. 
Carmy thinks about it for a second. He’s not sure how he wants to answer – how he’s supposed to answer this question. 
“I’m… I don’t know,” he managed to get out. 
You nod in acceptance, before replying with an empathetic, “That makes sense.”
“It doesn’t feel real, I guess?” he admits, taking his time as the words fall out of his mouth. 
“I can only imagine, Carm,” you sympathize. “Wanna help me out?”
“Yeah,” he replies, a half smile on his face. 
You’re so kind, so understanding, so empathetic, and he can’t picture spending this day with anyone but you. He thinks back to last year – when he got the news. It was the worst day of his life and regardless of that fact, you’d been there: caring enough to show up, to fight with him, to make sure he ate something. And then that night… the night you crossed the line, slept together even though both of you knew it was a bad idea, that there was no way you could start something real. 
He’s not sure how you got from there to here, but he thanks his lucky stars for whatever good deed he’s done in a past life that’s led to it. 
“Thank you for this,” he says intentionally, making sure you hear him as he continues with, in reference to earlier, “... and I love you too.”
You don’t expect anything from him, and he’s grateful, because he’s not sure he has anything to give. Not today. 
You give him the softest smile, something that makes him want to melt right there and then when you reply with:
“You don’t need to thank me.”
You step aside, making space for Carmy as you give him a task to do to help with dinner. You made the executive decision not to scale Michael’s recipes down, making them as written – family style. If anything, you hope to bring some of the leftovers, sharing his food in honor of his life. You wish you could’ve met Mikey, and since you didn’t get to, making his food feels like the best way to get to know the man Carmy loved and admired so much. 
You queue up a good playlist, working in perfect harmony with Carmy till dinner is ready to eat. Between the braciole and the spaghetti, you know you’ll have more than enough leftovers to feed the two of you for the next week. You let Carmy plate – something he’s truly exceptional at – watching him as he creates a perfect twirl of spaghetti before tearing a few pieces of basil for garnish. As you bring the spaghetti to Carmy’s small dining table that is only meant to seat two, he plates up the braciole on one plate for the both of you to share. You set the table, enjoying the sounds of the playlist you’ve set for the night, before sitting down to eat. 
Carmy takes his first bite of the spaghetti, knowing that it’s not going to be an easy thing for him. You watch closely as he tastes the sauce, his eyes closing and face turning a darker shade redder. 
You wait a beat, letting him settle in before asking:
“What do you think?” 
He nods his head, “It’s fire.” You can see that he’s holding back tears, not ready to lose all control just yet. “It’s actually better… than Mikey’s”
You eat your dinner quietly. It’s the good kind of quiet but the air feels heavy. Carmy may not always have the words for what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t need to right now. You try the braciole together, sharing one plate as he tells you about how Mikey refused to use raisins, even though that’s how they grew up eating the beef dish. You listen, letting him travel down memory lane, only as far as he’d like tog. 
Halfway through dinner, Carmy says something that surprises you:
“We’ve got more than enough leftovers to feed a large family of… twenty,” he states plainly. His blue eyes water as he continues with an ask. “You uh… maybe wanna pack this up and take it to the restaurant tonight?”
“Yeah, Bear. I think everyone would love that," you agree, the smallest smile on your lips. "Would you... wanna tell me a little about him? On our walk there?"
Carmy nods, "Sure. Yeah, I-. I think I can do that."
*
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biteofcherry · 5 months
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No such thing as finality
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vampire!Curtis Everett x reader; Dracula!Curtis Everett x reader
summary: When Curtis returns to his newly acquired mansion in London, he's greeted by an unexpected sight...
warnings: angst; so so much angst; and feels; dark-ish; a bit of blood (there are vampires in this story, after all); mention of death;
Author's note: This is my small contribution to @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon. The classic horror movie I based my inspiration on is Bram Stoker's Dracula. Though, me being me, I put a wicked twist to it. Hope you enjoy! The title "No such thing as finality" is also a quote from the Dracula book.
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Lush scent of roses, bowing their graceful necks as wind gained momentum, didn’t fully cover the sweet, decadent smell of freshly spilled blood. 
It would lure him in curiosity in any other circumstances, but since he didn’t expect anyone to be willingly bleeding inside his mansion, it made him wary. 
Curtis wasn’t scared. There was no human, nor creature in this universe that could truly harm him. Any attack that may happen upon him, would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. He could rip them apart with bare hands; move so fast and snap their neck before they even blinked; sink his fangs into an artery and rip it out; take the shape of a beast and tear them inside out.
He should do it for the sheer audacity of breaking into his household, as newly acquired and not yet fully lived-in it was.  
Taking measured steps, Curtis walked through the open wings of the glass, orangerie doors. Moonlight reflected in crystal chandeliers. Shadows crept along the walls, attempting to intimidate, but quickly withdrawing in submission to his own, chilling darkness. 
There was a faint glow of warm light seeping from beneath the double door leading to the ballroom. The sound of crackling fire announced someone’s preparation for his return. 
Curtis lifted a hand and the door opened in a burst, a gust of wind rubbing against his cheek affectionately before it whipped inside in a cold snap. 
His gaze instantly fell on the crumpled body in the middle of the polished, hardwood dancefloor - a decorative gore centerpiece of blue silk, soft skin and pool of ruby red blood. 
He recognized her. 
Mina.
That dress was the one he gifted her; as inappropriate as it was, since her engagement ring still shined on her slender finger and she had made no promise of breaking that word to Jonathan Harker, even if her lips trembled to say more than just a thank you to Curtis. Her lovely face of soft lines and ethereal delicacy, which he drew obsessively in the past weeks, remained angelic as her life slipped away.  
Curtis knew her, craved her and now he felt… mildly irritated.
A frown marred his face as he searched his feelings. Surely he should feel something stronger. Rage that would fly him across the room. Despair that would turn him into a wailing beast. 
There was a flicker of annoyance - both at having her snatched from his grasp before he got to explore this madness and at being challenged so obviously. 
As an apex predator he didn’t entertain any form of challenge. 
Slowly, his eyes moved from Mina’s dying body to the hem of your shimmering gown inches from the dark pool of blood. 
It was one of your favorite dresses - an almost translucent, pale fabric lined with exquisite sparks that gave the illusion of your body being encrusted in diamonds. Yet you didn’t seem bothered by the fact it bore stains of blood where it splashed when you sunk your teeth into the woman’s neck. 
Red essence still dripped from your chin as you boldly stared at Curtis across the room. 
“Hello, husband.” 
Beads decorating your hair caught flickers of amber glow as you tilted your head in greeting. In that moment you were the epitome of a dark goddess from centuries ago; one he turned you into when he promised you an eternity at his side. One who walked with him through the darkness and filled it with your own light. 
Light he forgot about in the fleeting moment of obsession. 
“Beloved.” Though Curtis’ voice bore an undertone of reprimand at what you have done, his term of endearment didn’t change. “You’ve overstepped.”
Your eyes flashed red glow at his admonition, as it hinted at the importance of the dying, pathetic reflection of a woman from eons ago. She was not important! She couldn’t be important to him. You were! 
“Overstepped?!” You hissed, your fangs elongating as you turned abruptly. “I was left in the castle, foolishly dreaming of and preparing for the move to the estate my dear husband went to secure. Meanwhile he fucking romanced a silly, mortal goose!”
“Mortal she may have been, but Mina wasn’t as unimpressive as you make her to be.” He didn’t know why he was defending his betrayal, since there was still not a single flare of rage urging him to snap your neck. 
Curtis didn’t think there’d ever be a time the mere thought of ending your immortal life entered his mind. Though he felt a pang of pain, somewhere in the hollowness of his chest where a heart should beat, when he realized the weight of hurt he must’ve caused you as he prowled after Mina.
“I’m sure her face resembling your dead first wife was a truly impressive genetic lottery win,” you snorted, “but have you become as all those pathetic mortal men, ready to cheat on their actual wife with a new hot piece of ass?!” 
“Do not accuse me of something that didn’t happen.” His irises splintered; red scythe filling over the blue iridescence like an eclipse taking over the sun.
A broken giggle bubbled on your lips. Your gaze shifted away from him, staring at the flames in one of the fireplaces. 
“Oh, have I come just in time to prevent you from giving her the biggest fang?” You asked bitterly.
In a flash, Curtis was across the room. Fingers curling around the front of your neck and slamming you into the opposite wall. He pressed you against it, his grip on your throat not loosening and the heat of his body enfolding yours.
Curtis was considered a dead creature, but he burned as if the hellfire itself ran through his veins. It was only him, though. He created you, but you never felt your own warmth. There were others whom he sired over the centuries and who sired next generations of vampires. They all ran cold, too. Only Curtis’ dark flame burned eternal.
“You’re treading on thin ice.” He warned you, even as he delighted in the intense emotion you provoked. With you everything was always intense. 
Always… alive.
Curtis was angry that you would accuse him of such a disgusting act like cheating. Angry at himself for giving you the reason to think the worst of him.
His obsession with Mina was unhealthy and borderline stalking. He was gifting her with attention and this one material present. But he didn’t have a plan of what he wanted from her exactly. Even as he played with the verbal seduction she was slowly falling for, not once did he imagine bedding her, or turning her.
It was more of a need to keep her, explore her, hold on to whatever she represented for his tortured soul. 
But he was blind to how his madness made him act towards you.
“What will you do?” You asked in a hushed tone, redness of your irises receding to the natural color of your eyes. “Are you going to destroy me? The woman you vowed to love for eternity? The woman you turned, branded in every possible way as yours?”
It wasn’t a spiteful challenge of a scorned queen, but a fear of a lively woman who stole his evil heart five centuries ago.
One who often walked barefoot, even before vampirism made you immune to the cold. Wearing simple dresses, with pockets filled with flowers and herbs and shiny stones plucked from mountain rivers. He bought you many stunning dresses over the centuries and you loved them, but most of the time you still wore the simplest ones. 
Curtis could only assume you dressed in the finest gown and adorned yourself with jewels to impose your power over Mina. To carry yourself as the queen about to crush a threat to her kingdom.   
There was never a threat. Not once did he consider leaving you behind and never returning. 
“I’d sooner meet my own end,” his fingers clenched on your throat as he squeezed his eyes in pain. 
When he vowed to love and care for you for eternity, until the sun burnt human cities down and reached to scorch your entwined bodies, he meant it with every fiber of his cursed being. 
“I haven’t cheated.” Curtis sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t think I would have.”
“And yet here we are…” Your cool breath still carried the metallic scent of blood.
He wouldn’t allow these thoughts to linger, to hurt you with doubt and resentment. He’d rather have you angry with him than broken. And there were ways to stoke your fire, keep it burning and warming him.
“Yes, here we are, Beloved.” Curtis’ tongue flicked out to lick away a drop of blood from the corners of your lips; his tone dropped an octave, vibrating with a beastly timbre. “With you in my grasp. With her dead body getting cold a few steps away and me not even being angry about it.”
Because he really wasn’t. There was that irritation at not having fully figured out what it was exactly that he chased in Mina, but none at the loss of her. Not from your hands, anyway. 
You cupped Curtis face with your hands, showing him softness that he claimed he never deserved (but which you taught him to accept, adamant in your decision that he was worthy of your love). 
“What was it that you searched for with her?” You asked, even though you were scared of his answer.
“I don’t know.” Curtis admitted; his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “A memory? A man I used to be? The humanity I lost?”
Mina looked like the exact image of Elisabeta - the wife he had as a human, whose death led him to do unspeakable things that cost him his soul. She was a reflection of the young, impulsive human man, who was too naive and too desperate in his love. 
Perhaps Mina’s angelic face brutally reminded him of the crushing pain and being the self-punishing bastard that he was, Curtis clung to her to hurt himself over and over again. Staying away from you, too, because he spiraled down into thoughts of unworthiness once again.  
“I didn’t know you at twenty one springs,” you said, “but the man I got to know at his honed one hundred years of vampirism and then spent centuries with? I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” 
Curtis was a vampire king. The oldest, the first to ever be made. At least the first either of you encountered. He fed on blood, could be brutal about it, or very gentle. Depending who the victim was. There were streaks of ruthlessness and cruelty in him, you witnessed him drown villages in blood then watch it sink into the ground with grim satisfaction. 
But he also carried the children from said villages in his arms, finding them new homes in places where humans weren’t as rotten and wouldn’t hurt them like the people of their hometowns had. 
Curtis was the monster parents scared their children with; but that monster saved those kids when their parents were the ones abusing them. Or when they allowed others, holy men included, to hurt them. 
No, you would never trade Curtis for any other man. 
“Not even at this moment of weakness?” Curtis’ deep, low voice resounded with a soft uncertainty.
You were still mad at him, but you couldn’t help that need to comfort him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the back of his head in a caress that always made him shudder and melt into your embrace.
“Why do you think I’m still here, facing you?” You sighed, tilting your head back enough to look Curtis in the eyes. 
“I could’ve ripped her to pieces and then fled. Leave you alone in the misery you would have brewed for yourself.” That was what Curtis did at least once every decade - sink into a really low mood and break your heart with how vulnerable and helpless he was at the time. 
“But, my dear husband, I love you too fiercely to let you go. The heart that you claim is void of humanity and care is one that made me say yes when you offered me immortality at your side.” 
“I feared…” You dropped your gaze down. “I feared you went after her, because you grew bored of me. That I was so easily replaceable.”
Throughout the centuries not once did Curtis stray away, nor did he isolate himself from you. Sometimes, when he was in his depressive mood he’d often space out, sinking into his gloomy thoughts, but even then he was physically nearby. Mindlessly caressing your body as you cuddled him and anchoring himself to you.
This trip across the sea took long, but the time kept stretching and stretching as Curtis worked on all the formalities of buying a mansion and re-settling onto a new soil. Impatient for his return, you decided on visiting him.
It was supposed to be a surprise for him, but turned into a shock for you when you saw that woman’s starstruck gaze as he escorted her to the carriage. 
Curtis gripped your chin between his fingers and gently tilted your face up. Sadness in his gaze crumbled way to determination. 
“Never.” He vowed. “It’s a burden I have to carry now, knowing that I’ve hurt you.”
“I’ll give you centuries to make it up to me.” You allowed your lips to curve in a small smile, then leaned to press a soft kiss to Curtis’ mouth. 
“Most gracious, Beloved.” Curtis smiled against your lips. He let go of your chin, sneaking that hand down your body and gripping your thigh. His other hand was still wrapped around your neck, fingers pressing a tad harder. Just the way you liked.
In a swift move, he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his hips, the snick of ripping fabric making you giggle. 
“I’ve yet to welcome you properly to our new mansion.” Curtis purred, licking a broad stroke across your bloodied chin. “You’ve already christened it with blood. Now I want to fill the walls with your sounds of pleasure.”
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misc-obeyme · 11 months
Text
Solomon Alone
Okay I am having some health issues, but I've been feeling pretty good today. And since I have some energy, I'm also kind of on a roll with writing tonight. I don't think I've ever posted two things in one day, but hey I'm just gonna go with it.
It's another Solomon story because I'm obsessed with him. This is a pretty short one about how he might be feeling after Lesson 12. This is assuming he doesn't have ulterior motives or anything.
It's a bit different from my usual fluff... I would say this one is all angst, but listen I don't question my muse when that slacker finally shows up.
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Solomon x GN!MC
Warnings: Hurt/angst and SPOILERS for Lesson 12 of Nightbringer
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Solomon watched as you lost consciousness. He heard himself asking Thirteen what to do, heard her say she couldn't help. He heard the brothers crying out your name, hoping you would somehow wake up. He saw the look of anguish on Lucifer's face, even as he held the grimoire that you had handed over to him.
Through a fog, Solomon helped the demons bring you out of the reaper's cave. When they were prepared to bring you back to Cocytus Hall, he told them to take you to the House of Lamentation instead. He convinced them that you would be most comfortable in the spare room there.
And Solomon went back to Cocytus Hall alone. He walked through it in a daze, not at all registering the environment around him. His mind was fully occupied by the sight of you falling to the ground, struck by the magic of the fountain.
When Satan came to talk to him about researching curses, Solomon listened. He agreed to help Satan look through all of the books they could find on the subject. It was a welcome distraction. It slowly pulled him out of the fog that had clouded his mind. He spent hours and hours reading through those books. All day and all night, he tried to find the answer to what had happened to you.
Because now that he was thinking a little more clearly… wasn't all of this his fault?
Solomon was the one who brought you to Thirteen's cave, to the Fountain of Knowledge. If he hadn't done that, if you hadn't been there when you made that promise, then you would still be awake right now.
That guilt was something he couldn't afford to think about too much. He threw himself into the research to prevent it from crushing him entirely. Not now, not while you still needed him.
He could face the shame of what he had done when you were awake again. He knew he would have to. He wouldn't be able to look into your eyes or see your brilliant smile without also feeling the heaviness of knowing he had caused your suffering.
It was easier with you resting at the House of Lamentation. He must have known that subconsciously when he convinced the brothers to take you there. He knew each of them would be spending time by your side, taking care of you. It allowed him to stay away so he could focus on fixing the mess he'd made.
It was only one of the many reasons he had sent you with them, though. The fact was, there were seven of them and only one of him. He couldn't take care of you the way they could. He could try to give you everything he had, give you all of his love, all of his knowledge, every part of him. And still they would always be able to give you more.
Solomon was sure you'd have an opinion on his thoughts if you were here to express them. Even so he felt himself reverting back to being nothing more than your teacher. You were his adorable apprentice and he would always be proud of you. He would do all he could to make sure you knew the magic you needed to survive and thrive in the Devildom and the human world.
He would teach you all he could no matter what, but he knew he couldn't hold onto you forever.
Solomon sat alone in his room at Cocytus Hall. A room you had poked your head into to ask him about this or that. A place where you sometimes looked for him to talk to him about your day or ask him questions about things that were on your mind.
It seemed like anywhere he went in the hall, there you were. The ghostly memory of you, standing in the kitchen making breakfast or sitting in an overstuffed chair in the library, reading. He saw you everywhere and the reality of your absence pulsed through his bones, settling into a dull ache. He was so good at ignoring this pain while he worked, it was days before he admitted to himself just how much he missed you.
And while working and researching was the only thing that was keeping him from falling into that pain, there was a little voice of doubt in the back of his mind. He couldn't help having the suspicion that your curse would break without him. That it didn't matter how much time he spent going through piles of books, that in the end it would be your tie to the brothers that would wake you up.
That once again, he would only be able to stand by and watch as magic beyond his control altered you and your life.
More than anything, Solomon was afraid that he couldn't save you.
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masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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