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system-architect · 1 day

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The Price of Enlightenment

Wracked by nerves in the days before the scheduled date of her Ascension, Zojja receives a nighttime visitor.

content warnings: lots of talk about death + dying (including some parts describing corpses and some analogies to suicide), implied bad childhoods, nausea/people nearly (but not full-on) getting sick

author's note: wanted to write a fic that makes zojja's soto arc make.. more sense... and inspire more realistic doubts into her character about it. this fic contains some fanon-- namely, the idea that kudu and zojja both briefly apprenticed under snaff at the same time before kudu's departure. also, please note that this fic is explicitly not meant to read as shippy whatsoever despite any banter ✌️

The sun had long since crept below the skyline of the Archipelago, but Zojja found herself unable to attain solid rest– she seems to flicker in and out of sleep, sparse fragments of dreams flitting through her brain like fireflies rising from a field. She finds herself shaken between them, roused by a small sharp breeze flowing through her opened window, and would turn in bed, futilely trying to attain a comfortable pose despite her eyes seeming to be glued wide open.

The date of her ascension was drawing closer, and she had been absolutely adamant throughout the whole process– Yes, I want to do this. I really do want this. I know what it costs. Now that she was nearly at the peak, it felt as though the veil was beginning to fall from her confidence, and she felt half-formed doubts worming their way up through her body like nausea.

She flips herself over onto her back, fingers clutching at the sheets as her head sinks into her impossibly hard pillow. Her body felt heavy, so heavy, and achey. She lays there, staring at the ceiling, feeling every acute twinge of her soreness, when a shadowy presence creeps into her periphery from near the window.

“Zojja.”

Something within her ruptures– she knew that voice. It incenses her. She felt every muscle in her body spasm in a sort of shiver as she shoots half-upright, her face scrunching up and lips peeling back. She squints over in the direction of the figure.

“Kudu.”

The man was… posing in an uncharacteristically flamboyant manner, leaning up against the wall with one leg bent. He seems to have a wine glass in one hand, and just to the left next to him was… bizarrely, a cardboard cutout of Snaff, with features poorly drawn on in marker. Kudu appears as she remembers him– dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun, two little pinpricks of pale yellow glaring out at her from the shadows of his face.

“It’s somewhat incredible, you know, that you manage to make my name sound like a curse every time you utter it,” he swirls the wine in the glass. “I’d ask how you’re doing, dear, but I fear we both know that the answer is ‘terribly’.”

Kudu’s manner of talking set something berserk in her, like hearing claws on slate. Oooh she could not stand it. She had stopped taking it personally a long time ago– it had taken several run-ins with the man for her to understand his modus operandi. Once she did, it became apparent that the man simply dished out flamboyant little remarks like he exhaled carbon dioxide. Whether they helped manipulate or woo anyone was a near-unintentional byproduct. Still, something about him felt simply slimy, and thus every time he opened his mouth she felt like a bull seeing red.

“What is it you want, you little worm? Why are you here?” Her ears pin back as she squints over at him– taking the time to notice his shifting posture, which had spontaneously changed so that he was sort of draped against the wall. “...And why are you… like that?”

His brows raise as he taps the wine glass backwards against the cutout of Snaff. “I suppose, in a strange way, you could consider me as checking up on you at the behest of the old man here. Ah, but no, I suppose it’s more likely that I just still swim around in your head after all these years, yes? …And it’s not my fault that your brain has decided to render me as some sort of eccentric pervert.”

“That’s because you are an eccentric pervert.”

“You see?”

Zojja couldn’t help but let out a small, frustrated squawk. She feels the urge to grab her pillow so that she could scream into it, but stops herself so she doesn’t remind him how easy it is to get a rise out of her. She replaces the urge with a vision of her shoving the pillow down his throat in a cartoonesque manner. While she’s entertaining various other murder fantasies, she takes a second to study the facsimile of the man in front of her. It was definitely Kudu, but…

“What are you, anyway? A ghost? Some sort of kryptis trying to eat at me– or inspire doubt?! Hm?!” She punctuates her sentence with a triumphant humph, as if she surely had sussed him out.

“Oooh. Externalizing our locus of control already, are we? I’m certain you’d love it were I anything but the product of your… what was it now, fourth day of sleep deprivation?”

Her claws poke through the sheets and begin to pull at the mattress. Unfortunately, it was true. This wasn’t the first night she’d been in this predicament, it’s just that her stress dreams were usually bereft of morally bankrupt middle aged men.

Kudu’s pupils flick towards her stressed motion, weaving little light trails in the dark. The wine glass has mysteriously disappeared, and he folds his arms behind his back as he takes a small step towards her. “And… doubts? Who said anything about doubts? Aside from you, of course…”

“What?! No, I–”

He’s drawn closer. “What sort of doubts could you possibly harbor? Are they about your ascension, perhaps?”

“Th–”

Kudu wasn’t actually a particularly tall man, only having a couple of inches on her at most, but from his position next to her bed, he seems to tower over her. “What’s there to fear? Dagda seems fairly well-adjusted now. You trust her, don’t you?”

“Well– of course I do, but–”

“But?!” The man’s expression was like a jackal seeing a wounded gazelle, and he draws a claw up to pick at his chin. “...Mmm, actually, I suppose this is typical of you. The trust issues and whatnot.”

“What?!” She barks at him, face contorting as she bares her teeth. Her body feels incredibly heavy all of a sudden. “What do you– mean…”

Kudu peers down at her as if he were observing an experiment, stony faced. They both knew what he meant. He removes the claw from his chin, and waggles two fingers in a sort of walking motion across the air, as if miming people frolicking through a field of daisies.

“You haven’t reached back out to your little friends, have you? You know, the ones you still have, anyway.”

There’s a cascade of tiny popping sounds as Zojja’s claws fully puncture into the mattress. “Y– you’re in no position to talk, you don’t even have friends!”

He ignores her little jab, tilting his head to the side as he begins examining his cuticles. “Loathe as I am to compliment you, I have got to say, Zojja, I do somewhat admire your talent for burning out on people and treating them like chopped liver. Or, of course, simply getting them killed. Frankly, I understand it.”

“Understand?!” She spits venom. “I never– How dare you suggest– We are not–”

Alike? He splays out his fingers, waggling them one last time as he finishes studying his hand, before drawing it behind his back once again. He leans over Zojja just a little more, a halo of light from the window lining his silhouette.

“Another little thing that we both know, my dear.”

Zojja flinches, abruptly aware of the sensation gripping her entire being– she’s sinking almost painfully into the bed, as if there were iron weights piled upon her chest. Words are able to hiss past her teeth despite it.

“No way. You’re the only one to blame for your problems, you… you…” She can feel his eyes boring into her, the figment waiting with bated breath to hear which insult she chooses. “--poseur!!”

Kudu’s brows raise, and his jaws hangs open slightly. A little scoff escapes from his throat. “Poseur? Now that��s a nostalgic one.”

The room seems to flicker as scraps of memories waft through Zojja’s brain– a messy workroom table, three coffee cups nestled amongst the documents and tomes. Herbal tea in her’s. She had too young for caffeine; the old man insisted as much, anyway. The sounds of muffled conversation– debates, questions, revelations– swirled around her ears whenever she let sleep grip her on a late night, arms and crumpled velum pressed against her cheek in lieu of a comfy pillow.

A small spasm ripples down her body, jostling her out of her reverie. To her disdain, Kudu is still there, fixed in the exact same pose as he was before her eyes had closed. If they had closed, anyway– it was difficult to tell. The world felt like it was beginning to unravel and warp around her.

“Oh, good, I thought I lost you for a moment there. Where were we?”

You leaving.

“Ah, right. How we’re devastatingly incomparable people without a lick in common.”

Yeah. You said it. There’s nothing there. Just give it up. Stop thinking about it. A young man towered over her, a fresh undercut framed his ponytail, and a few stubborn pimples dotted his face. He shrouded himself in dark clothing and curled into himself when he moved, as if he might be able to shrink from existence, but his ego filled the room. Bitter, insatiable. She had been pulled from muck and fog and brought into a new world, she spat out sparks when she talked, her skull overflowed with ideas. She felt like she wanted to fly up to the sun. Tenacious, bull-headed. A thick layer of desperation to make something, be something under it all; they hitched themselves to the same star.

His voice toyed with her, sarcastic. “There’s a clear line between us, of course. I was simply born bad, and you, good. You have an unshakeable grip on everything you are and want. You’re infallible.”

Old arguments, coated in cobwebs in the recesses of her gray matter. She never understood where all the animosity came from. It wasn’t her fault that Snaff liked her iteration of the diaphase arcanic separator better. She couldn’t be blamed for being brilliant. He sat as far away from her as possible on the worktable bench; she’d slide closer and pester him on purpose. The way his weird puggy lips contorted when he was trying to stifle his upset was funny to her. He’d ‘fix’ her mystic diodes and leave them a smoking pile, she’d throw a tantrum. He’d look smug until he got reprimanded for it.

The edges of her thoughts melted together in the muggy heat of the eternal Maguuman summer. The smell of ozone and solder would hang heavy in the air for hours. Everyone got along best when occupied by some sort of project. There wasn’t a single inch of wall space in the lab that wasn’t plastered in sketches and blueprints of prototypes and small epiphanies. Snaff liked to hover behind them as they worked, arms folded behind his back. His presence always felt warm, not judgmental. She was glad she was here now, clean, a fresh start. She refused to ever go back, she wanted to do this– had to do this. Muffled voices across the lab kept her up at night. She knew she shouldn’t listen in, but she couldn’t resist. A voice of guidance and reason, and a voice that cracked, crushed under monumental pressure, always choked something back. You should really give him a chance. A concerned hand clapped on her shoulder. I’m trying to convince him of the same…

Arcs of lightning and smoldering fires set off a chain reaction of fights. It’s always your fault, not mine. When things don’t go my way I want to grit my teeth and scream through them and beat my fists against things. I just need this one little thing to work out. I feel so full of concepts and questions I feel like I’m going to burst, it hurts, I have a headache. Stop getting in my way. I can’t hold myself back when I get mad or excited. I love the thrill of the chase when I’m on the trail of an idea, a theory. Small game isn’t enough. I crave more. Every part of me feels sore and weary. I would never admit how much a deep part of me wants comfort. I miss Snaff. I miss Eir…

A hypnic jerk wracks Zojja’s body, the force knocking her bedframe into the wall with a clatter as she’s pulled back to reality once more. What passes for it, anyway. Kudu is still looming over her, and had leaned closer– she could see through his pupils, to the layer of yellow and green nightshine that stares back out at her from behind his retinas.

“A pity that there will be no one left to remember it all.”

Zojja’s ears pin back, pressing against the pillow entombing her head. Her voice picks up a desperate tone. “Wh– everyone loves Snaff! No one’s going to forget him! And you… you’re… infamous, you know–”

Kudu’s head tilts to the side, considering her like an owl watching a mouse. “Being a celebrity is one thing, but it’s all about the details. They’ll never know about Snaff’s sweet tooth. How I had to teach myself to stop biting my claws…”

Their mentor stuffed wrapped candies into every stray desk compartment and container like a skritt hoarding coins. He never seemed to mind if she pocketed them– she thought he’d tuck them into her console’s desk on purpose, actually. The other apprentice had cracked, bloodied cuticles when she first met him. Some sort of nervous habit. He’d pull an angry and embarrassed face if he caught himself doing it, as if anticipating being scolded.

The specter clasps his hands against his chest, digging into his ribcage with his nails. He doesn’t give her time to reply. “Those memories die with you, Zojja. I’m a dead man. You remember that, don’t you? You introduced me to my butcher. Snaff’s dead too, in case you already forgot…”

Zojja feels herself shiver. A painful memory, perfectly clear, worn in from how many times it had been on replay in her mind. A hand, wreathed in purple crystal, going limp. Dangling from her arms, or splaying out against the tile. Twitching with postmortem spasm. She senses a bit of sick climbing up her throat and tries to shake herself out of it, despite the amount of weight on her chest.

Kudu is relentless. A clawtip sinks into the center of her sternum, prodding her like a scalpel. She wants to writhe and scream, but she can’t. His lips peel back to reveal rows of violet teeth as he grins at her in a sadistic manner.

“That’s another thing we have in common, you know. The self-destruction. You just can’t stand it all, can you? You sink one little tooth into something you feel you want so badly, and the world just becomes a big blur…” He twists his finger around, burrowing the claw in deeper. “You should tell them to make your robes purple. Adorn them in stones. We’d all match.”

She finally manages to shake her body out of paralysis, squirming as she bucks his hand off. He withdraws back towards the window in one smooth motion, expression unchanging.

“Shut UP– I would never– I won’t forget–”

Kudu wraps his arms around what was the cutout of Snaff, which is now very real, very physical, very limp. The moonlight casts their skin in a clammy lilac hue, striped and stained with black stone and indigo crystal that splits open their hides like rot. Snaff is unmoving, devoid of life, propped up only by Kudu’s hand at his back. His head has rolled back; she can’t make out Snaff’s face anymore.

“You would– and you will.” His lips tug impossibly upwards, his eyelids crinkling at the bottom. “You don’t even have her twin anymore, do you?”

Zojja growls as he hunches one shoulder, indicating the silvery metal device strapped to his left arm, pressed in between himself and Snaff. “Of course– I– She’s just in storage–”

He pounces. “Storage?! Oh, oh, oh, Zohhh-jjaa, you may as well just throw it out! Even I hadn’t realized how much you had given up!”

“I haven’t given up– I’m just–”

Kudu grips onto Snaff’s body tighter, his claws starting to pierce through their mentor’s coat fronts, the sides of their cheeks pressing together as if he’s giving him some sort of painful embrace. “I carried on his legacy better than you. Did you know that? Have you ever thought of that? Doesn’t it burn? I was the one ripping open dragons’ brains, you abandoned us. And you don’t even care!”

She snarls through her teeth. “Worthless liar! I– I had the Pact, of course I care–”

He begins to lower Snaff out through the open window, dangling him precariously over the sill. Snaff remains limp, arm waving slightly in the night breeze. “You care?! You’re throwing us out. Rendering us down to useless garbage!”

Her body just barely pries itself upwards. “I’m NOT– I might still remember– I just, I have to do this for–”

Kudu lets Snaff slip from his grasp even more, and his own body begins to tilt towards the window, as if pulled by the other man’s weight. “I’ve told you enlightenment always comes at a price, dear! I suppose I can’t judge you! I did the same!”

Zojja can barely choke out anything through the tears forming on her face before he continues. They both look like they’re about to topple out, off the edge of the precipice. “Since you want to destroy everything so badly, just bite the bullet! Let them rip you apart! Let’s die together, Zojja!”

She rockets upwards, her throat instantly rendered hoarse by the scream that flies out of her mouth. “SHUT UP! STOP IT! SHUT UP!”

She’s met with silence. Blinking hard, she does a double take at the window. No Kudu, no Snaff. The wind whistling through the opening rattles the frame quietly, and stings at her brow with an icy feeling. She hadn’t realized she was coated in sweat until now.

It takes only a few brief seconds for the sound of running echoing down the hallway to burst forth into her room– a panicked Dagda, who throws her door open hard enough to make the metal of the handle emit a sickening crunch as it hits the wall. The jotun seems just as sweaty as Zojja is, wide-eyed and bewildered.

“Zojja–! What’s wrong?! Are you hurt?! Are we being attacked?!--”

She slows down a bit as she scans the room, before finally setting her gaze on Zojja– the only person there. Zojja’s ears twist back as she tries to gain something resembling composure. She turns to look back out the window again.

The horizon shifts outside, a deep navy tint beginning to break up the dark. High in the sky, the stars still hang overhead. She stares tiredly at a particularly bright one as it shimmers. A binary star, flickering rapidly between red and blue as its twin stars rotate around one another. As she watches it, her hand crawls up to feel at her chest, which is unscathed, unwounded.

Finally, she turns back to Dadga, forcing a small chuckle. “N– Nothing. Just… dealing with some demons.”

It takes her a moment to notice Dadga’s widening eyes and the panic not leaving the woman’s face. The asura panics for a moment in turn, waving her hands dismissively.

“Not– not literal!”

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irishbreakfst · 4 months

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God damn, reddit is a tar pit

#started going on it for various household maintenance qs and joined the percy jackson sub #and jesus christ can those mother fuckers complain #they have not stopped once to consider WHY there would have been any changes from book to screen (because this requires critical thought)#theyre just soooooo fucking mad that the meduse fight wasnt a brawl #and theyre STILL HUNG UP ON ANNABETH BEING BLACK OH MY GOD #Literally every day theres a ppst about hOw WiLl MaGnuS ChAsE wOrK nOw??!??1 #wheb 1) genetic diversity mixed families and adoption all exist #2) annabeth was literally born without sex happening so she might have 0 genetic relation to her dad #3) it doesnt fucking matter!!!#now i havent read magnus chase so correct me if im wrong but i doubt him being Aryan is THAT plot relevant

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girlgenius1111 · 8 days

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hallmarks of sisterhood

putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.

-------

Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you.

It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked.

As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily.

All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could.

-------

“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister.

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.

“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.”

Alba flushed red with anger.

“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind.

“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”

“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?”

“You are such a-”

“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room.

“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed.

“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending.

“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted.

“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter.

When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried.

Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.”

“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”

“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.

“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl.

“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit.

“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.

“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-”

It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped.

“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly.

“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you.

You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously.

They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument.

You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong.

------

You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often.

Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock.

Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.

“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.”

“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer.

“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos.

“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go.

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile.

“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room.

“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics.

“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it.

As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up.

If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so.

This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you.

------

The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument.

You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this.

If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it.

You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope.

Alexia had responded first.

It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.

Alba responded after that.

You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.

You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.

-------

You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today.

You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later.

You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later.

“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder.

You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible.

“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.

You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.”

“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look.

“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.”

Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.”

You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

-------

You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included.

That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall.

The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image.

You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous.

You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically.

You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful.

You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song.

More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters.

Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly.

You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her.

They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.

You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation.

“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face.

“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?”

You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters.

Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck!

Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.

You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come.

A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt.

“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly.

“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head.

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.”

You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others.

-------

Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right.

She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face.

“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly.

Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?”

Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.”

Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset.

“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.”

Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.”

Eli chuckled. “I will.”

She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that.

-------

You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you.

“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed.

“I know, mija, I am so sorry.”

“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”

Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t.

-------

It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life.

Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.

“Mami, I-”

“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.”

“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach.

“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”

“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.”

“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were.

“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life.

Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it.

Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you.

--------

Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch.

Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?”

Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba.

It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said.

“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister.

“We really did.” Alba replied.

“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared.

“We really do.” Alba agreed.

“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?”

“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face.

Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.”

“New car?”

“New house?”

“Can we buy her a country?”

They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior.

-------

The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset.

You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face.

“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently.

“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged.

“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you.

Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands.

“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them.

“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?”

“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this.

“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly.

“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?”

Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her.

“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped.

Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that.

“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.”

Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?”

“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse.

“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety.

“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’”

“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head.

“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.”

At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot.

“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer.

With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.”

Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore.

“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments.

Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work.

-------

Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in.

Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself.

“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face.

Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do you think that is enough?” You asked.

Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.”

Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway.

“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight.

It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you.

“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you.

You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting.

You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears.

Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters.

Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot.

Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed.

Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you.

It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special.

You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself.

You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught.

“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other.

They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction.

“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”

And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be.

When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands.

It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get.

-------

Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands.

And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted.

“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands.

“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.”

Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded.

“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly.

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it.

“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.”

“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-”

Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit.

“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.”

Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed.

Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be.

-------

it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.

everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.

hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic reader

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bunnycvnts · 2 months

Text

new bf! rafe that is slowly, very very slowly, getting used to having a girlfriend that cares about him !!

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

rafe was having a particularly rough day with ward screaming at him to be a better man and running out of gas three blocks from tannyhill, so when you came over that night, his attitude was at an all-time high.

every little thing was ticking him off. from the way his collared shirt was sitting against his skin to the crickets chirping outside, and to the way the tv was far too loud considering how close you were sitting. he was overstimulated, annoyed, and really just needed a fucking break.

when you got up to get a glass of water and your heels clacked against the wood floor, he sort of lost it. “can you- seriously? take the fucking shoes off.”

you paused at the entrance of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing as you turned around slowly to look at your boyfriend. “what?” you weren’t upset; you were just thoroughly confused about his outburst. you’d been together for three months now and had seen your fair share of him being dramatic or moody, but it was rarely ever pointed towards you.

“the heels, they’re driving me fucking nuts, clicking and clacking through the house, and the tv?” he paused to gesture angrily at the screen, “why is it so fucking loud? you’re sitting like six feet away from it.”

your teeth sunk into your lower lip, quickly slipping off your heels and heading back towards rafe, your feet now padding lightly against the floor, almost silently. “is everything okay?” the remote sat in your hand as you spoke, muting the tv effectively. you eyed him cautiously, now noticing the way his hands were fidgeting and his knee wouldnt stop bouncing.

his face scrunched. “yes, everything’s okay; that shits just mad annoying, babe. it’s giving me a fuckin’ headache.” your hand reached out to rub his arm soothingly.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know. how about we go to your room? it’ll be quieter, and you can change out of your clothes from today. i can go home too if you’d prefer. it’s okay.” your words were chosen carefully, bordering on demanding, and you tried to refrain from any tone that sounded condescending. it was easy to spot that he was overstimulated, and you only wanted to help.

“ye-yeah, yeah. let’s go to my room. don’t leave; why would you leave? i told you everything’s fine.” he didn’t know why you were acting this way, and it made his stomach feel weird. you guided him by his hand up the stairs and to his bedroom, speaking quietly as you went.

“i just know you need a minute, baby. that’s all. know you need some peace and quiet. maybe a nap. will help you feel better, promise.” he paused on the stairs at your words, but your hand tugged at his, making him regain movement.

once you both reached his bedroom, you pulled out some gym shorts and a loose t shirt for him to change into, shoving them into his hands. “here, put these on!” you smiled up at him before moving to his bedside table, where he kept matches. lighting one, you held it to a candle you had bought him a few weeks ago. he had noted how great the scent was but felt it was too girly for him to buy a candle— and he wasn’t girly. so, you took it upon yourself to buy it, and the trimmed wick and melted down wax covering the sides didn’t go unnoticed.

rafe changed quickly and leaned against the wall to watch you. the way you moved so efficiently and effortlessly through his room made his heart beat a little faster. you didn’t have to ask where he kept leisure clothes or the matches. you didn’t think twice before pulling the blanket up from the made bed and fluffing the pillows for him. you didn’t even need him to tell you that he hated sleeping with the top sheet, as you knowingly kept it tucked into the mattress. just watching you made his headache lessen, and he didn’t fight when you pulled him off the wall and helped him get situated in his bed.

“do you want some water or medicine?” his head shook at your question, denying it. all he felt like he needed was you. no one had ever paid so much attention to him or knew what made him feel better or worse. no one had taken the time or given the effort to care so lovingly for him. so when you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand running through his hair gently, all he could do was open his arms to gesture you closer. the blonde shuffled even closer to you, resting his head on your stomach, so you could continue massaging his head and playing with his hair.

“nah, just my girl.”

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

ok this is my first writing post pls be nice

taglist: @sunkissedrafe

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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months

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Lessons in Love

(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.

word count: 3.3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.

It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.

Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.

Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)

But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.

“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.

Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.

“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”

You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.

“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.

“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.

Enzo’s face falls at this.

“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.

“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,�� you reply with exasperation.

He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.

“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.

“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.

“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.

“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.

Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.

“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.

You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.

The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.

You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.

“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.

This putrid, skanky little-

“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“

A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.

“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.

The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.

“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.

Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.

“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.

You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.

Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.

“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”

Theo takes another step forward.

“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.

“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.

“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?

Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.

“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.

“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.

He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.

“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.

Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.

“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?

“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.

You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.

“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.

“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.

You feel yourself cringe.

“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”

“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.

“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.

Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.

“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

Theo scowls at the nickname.

“Campfire.”

“Old parchment.” You say in unison.

Pansy smirks.

“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”

Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.

“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.

Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.

“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,

“This is entirely your fault.”

Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.

“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.

“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”

Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.

“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.

“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.

“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”

Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.

“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.

You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.

“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.

Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.

“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.

The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.

“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.

The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.

“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.

“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.

Theo only raises a brow at you.

“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.

Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.

“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.

He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.

“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.

“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”

“And Daphne’s shampoo.”

You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.

“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.

You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.

“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.

“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.

Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.

“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.

“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.

“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.

Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.

“Better?”

You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.

“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.

“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.

“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.

“One kiss.”

He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.

An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.

“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.

“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.

#harry potter universe #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin #ravenclaw #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #draco malfoy #matteo riddle #daphne greengrass #pansy parkinson #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #how do you write in 2nd person #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n

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gunnerfc · 19 days

Text

Wingwoman | Steph Catley x Cooney-Cross!Reader

Summary: Your sister Kyra notices your crush on Steph and takes it upon herself to be your wing woman

Warnings: I did use she/her pronouns for R and there is a small makeout scene!

WC: 2.4k

AN: I just think that Steph Catley <3333333

Kyra rolled her eyes when she heard your loud laughter in response to Steph's not-that-funny joke. The midfielder was shocked no one else had figured out your crush on your fellow Aussie, you made it painfully obvious to everyone, including Steph herself. Your younger sister decided right then that she would become your wingwoman and help you get a date with your national team captain.

Kyra took her first shot during the team’s gym session when you were separated from Steph. It was hard to not find you two attached to the hip.

“Hey Steffy,” Kyra sang as she picked up a set of weights. “Hi, Kyra,” the older woman responded, a small groan falling from her lips when she noticed who it was. Steph loved Kyra but she was not in the mood to deal with any of her jokes.

Steph had, or so she thought, been doing her best to show you how interested in you she was. Yet, all of her advances seemed to fail when you made no effort to reciprocate her feelings. You two have played together for the Matildas for a long time and the defender has always had a small crush on you that seemed to grow when you joined Arsenal.

“What do you think of Y/n/n,” Kyra asked, trying her hardest to make anything obvious just yet.

Steph paused her movements, a small weight still in her grasp. She could feel her cheeks grow warmer at the mere mention of you and quickly turned her head away from the young midfielder. Why was your younger sister suddenly asking about you?

“Um, I think she’s... cool,” the defender replied, rolling her eyes when she couldn’t come up with a better word to describe you. She had plenty of nice things to say about you, but all of them were far too romantic and cheesy to say to Kyra.

“I disagree but whatever, moving on,” Kyra joked, not missing the chance to be a typical younger sister. “Do you think she’s pretty,” she questioned, hoping to bait Steph into saying more than just ‘cool.’

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? She’s one of the prettiest people I’ve ever met,” Steph rushed out, her cheeks once again heating up as she thought about how attractive you were.

Kyra had to resist the urge to dramatically gag at her words and instead opted to not respond. She left Steph to do her weight lifts, leaving her confused and slightly worried that she might have made it too obvious she had a crush on you.

Steph tried to shake her thoughts but she heard you laughing loudly at Katie and Leah and her eyes immediately landed on you. She wasn’t sure what else she could do to make you see how she felt about you but little did she know Kyra had it (slightly) under control.

Kyra didn’t say anything else to either of you until you were in the car headed to your shared flat. “So, when do you plan on telling Steph you’re madly in love with her,” your younger sister teasingly asked when you stopped at a red light.

Your eyes widened in shock as you jerked your head in her direction. “What are you talking about,” you rushed out, you thought you hadn’t made it obvious at all considering Steph hadn’t tried to make a move.

“Please, have you heard how loudly you laugh at her jokes,” Kyra rolled her eyes as she responded to a text from Alessia.

“Her jokes are funny,” you tried to defend yourself, you thought the jokes Steph made were hilarious.

“Everything is funny when you haven't fucked,” Kyra shot back with a raised eyebrow, daring you to challenge her words.

“Kyra!,” your eyes widened at her words, but you had no other rebuttal and focused on driving once the light changed.

The rest of the car ride was silent as you replayed Kyra’s few words. Surely you hadn’t been that obvious with how you acted around Steph. If your sister was able to catch on, maybe your other teammates had as well. Or, maybe Steph herself knew and didn’t feel the same way and that’s why she hadn’t made a move.

While you spent the rest of the evening thinking about every interaction you had with Steph, Kyra was busy texting Alessia and Vic asking for help trying to set you up with Steph. You could hear your younger sister giggling through the walls and could only hope she hadn’t told any of your Arsenal teammates. Or worse, your Matildas teammates. You knew if any of them knew, you truly wouldn’t live it down.

Kyra rolled her eyes at her screen when she read Alessia’s text that said she should force the two of you into a closet. The midfielder quickly responded saying that was too cheesy and she needed something different.

An idea popped into her head when Vic said something about needing one of you to feel jealous. The team had planned a night out for the upcoming weekend after the game and knew it would be her chance to force one of you to make a move. She quickly texted the small group chat to say she had a plan but refused to elaborate.

Kyra spent the rest of the week planting small hints to you and Steph about the other, hoping to make you both think about the interactions you two have had. After the final whistle blew for that week’s game, Kyra watched you hug Steph for much longer than two friends would and rolled her eyes when you both pulled away with a deep blush.

The team quickly showered and changed before heading to a local late-night hangout bar to celebrate the win. You purposely avoided Steph and opted to sit with Stina and Frida at the opposite end of the table but your eyes swayed toward the defender every few seconds.

You nodded along to the conversation your two teammates were having but your mind was focused on Steph. The little comments Kyra had made throughout the week were starting to get to you and you felt like you were getting your hopes up.

You weren’t paying attention when Kyra, along with Alessia and Vic, excused themselves to the bar. This would be Kyra’s final move in an attempt to get you and Steph together and if it didn’t work, she might have to take Alessia up on her offer to shove you two into a closet.

“Excuse me,” your younger sister started, gaining the attention of the closest bartender. “Do you see that girl at the end of the table over there,” Kyra asked as she subtly pointed over her shoulder to you.

The bartender nodded in response once his eyes landed on you. “Can you fix a random drink and take it to her and tell her someone from the bar sent it to her? But don’t say who, we’re trying to make two idiots realize their feelings,” Kyra asked, hoping this would work out the way she was hoping.

The bartender chuckled to himself at her request but nodded again anyway. Kyra knew you wouldn’t drink during the season but a random person wouldn’t know that which made it seem a bit more believable that it was from a stranger. The trio quickly headed back to the table, no one had realized they had been at the bar.

You were deep in conversation with Stina when a drink was placed in front of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and you felt your cheeks warm slightly when you realized all of your teammates' eyes were on you.

“Um, I didn’t order this,” you started but the bartender quickly cut you off to tell you it was from someone else. He didn’t stick around long enough for you to ask who at the bar it was from.

A few of your teammates let out whistles and laughs before they started teasing you about having an admirer. You playfully rolled your eyes at their comments but when you locked eyes with Steph, there was a different look in her eye that you hadn’t seen before. You swallowed lightly before tearing your eyes from hers and continuing your conversation with your Swedish teammate.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Steph stand before making her way to the bathroom. You resisted the urge to let your eyes linger on her and forced yourself to keep the conversation flowing. Your phone dinged a few moments later with a text and you quickly apologized to Stina before checking who it was from.

You held your breath for a moment when you read Steph’s name followed by her asking you to come to the bathroom. You waited a moment before excusing yourself in hopes it wasn’t obvious. With your back now facing the group as you made your way to the bathroom, you missed the little high-five your sister and her two new close friends gave each other.

You quietly knocked on the door to let Steph know you were there and it was unlocked a second later. You quickly entered the bathroom and locked the door behind you. Steph was leaning against the sink with her arms crossed. You’ve never seen her look this upset, especially at you in the years that you've known her.

You waited to speak, giving her time to process whatever she was thinking. The silence in the room was thick and the tension was growing. You watched Steph clench her jaw a few times before she started speaking.

“This isn’t how I thought I'd be telling you this but I’m in love with you. I know I should have told you sooner but I didn’t know if you felt the same way because you never seemed to reciprocate anything then Kyra kept saying these little comments that made me think that maybe you do feel the same way,” the defender declared before stopping to take a breath.

Your jaw fell open slightly at her words, the shock was evident across your face. You thought about her words, pausing on what she said about your sister. Kyra had been telling you both things the past week in hopes you’d both get it together and say anything to the other. A small part of you was grateful for your sister’s intervention but you were mainly focused on the fact that Steph felt the same way you did.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way I do, I thought you were just being super friendly! If I had known you felt the same way, I would have said something way sooner, I just didnt want to ruin our friendship on the off chance you didnt feel the same way,” you blurted out before Steph had a chance to say anything.

Both of you stood in silence as you processed what the other said, realizing you both are terrible at reading hints. Steph chuckled to herself before she took a few steps toward you and moved a hand to rest on your cheek. You locked eyes with her before yours dropped to her lips, subconsciously licking your own as you thought about kissing her.

Steph took one final step toward you until your noses were touching before whispering against your lips “Can I kiss you?” You nodded softly and her lips were on yours a second later. Your lips moved against each other slowly, giving you both a chance to truly take in the fact you were actually kissing.

Steph’s lips started moving against yours faster as her other hand moved to rest on your waist. You tilted your head slightly making it easier for her to take control of the kiss as one of your hands wrapped around her wrist. Your lips fought each other before Steph pulled back when air became a problem.

The defender rested her forehead against yours as you both heaved slightly in an attempt to catch your breath. “I can’t believe we have to thank Kyra for this,” you groaned softly when the realization hit.

“Actually, I think we should thank whoever sent you that drink,” Steph joked with a small smile on her face.

You laughed softly at her words before speaking again, “Were you jealous, Steffy” you teased with a matching grin on your face.

Steph rolled her eyes at your words but the red tint on her cheeks gave her away. You chuckled as she leaned in to give you a quick peck before unlocking the door behind you. You made your way back to the table your teammates were at, ignoring the teasing comments thrown your way.

“Fucking finally,” Kyra groaned when she noticed your intertwined hands. “If that drink didn’t work, I was ready to lock you two in a closet and throw away the key,” the midfielder huffed when you two sat down.

“Wait, it was YOU who sent the drink,” you gasped at your sister, eyes wide at her words.

“Yes! Neither of you would have made a move if it weren't out of jealousy so I had to come up with something,” Kyra all but yelled.

The rest of your teammates laughed at her outburst knowing she was right. You and Steph sat in shock even though you both also knew she had a point. “Anyways! When’s your first date then,” your sister smirked.

Neither of you spoke as you both went red in the face. “Um, we didn’t get that far,” the defender spoke for the both of you as she cleared her throat.

“What do you mean you didn’t get that far, you were gone for like ten minutes? What happened in the bathroom,” this time, it was Caitlin’s turn to question the two of you.

You both avoided the eyes of your teammates, finding your surroundings much more interesting. It was Katie who started laughing loudly before shouting you two were doing something “dirty.” Your eyes widened and before you could tell the group that wasn’t true, more teasing comments were thrown your way.

You groaned at their words before Steph leaned in to whisper in your ear to ignore what they were saying. Her hand wrapped around yours tightly as your teammates said every joke they could think of.

Your face was hot as you heard the things they were saying but you did your best to tune them out. You locked eyes with your sister who was across from you, sending her a small smile and mouthing ‘thank you.’ Kyra sent you a bright smile in return before laughing along with your teammates.

Deep down you didn’t mind the comments they made, you were just grateful to finally be making progress with Steph. You squeezed her hand softly before leaning back in your chair, a large grin gracing your features.

#woso x reader #awfc x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #steph catley x reader #steph catley

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euphoricimagination · 8 months

Text

Friends don’t look that way

Feat. Kenma, Osamu & Sakusa

Kenma

Kuroo has never seen Kenma this way before.

Kenma has always been quiet, enjoying the company of his games way more than any other person; yet he was always caring about anyone else perception of him, always noticing eyes on him. However, Kenma never looks back, never looks at anyone directly that he didn’t have to look at.

So when Kuroo saw his friend on the lunch table, looking in front of him every few minutes with an unusual look, he was confused.

Kenma usually spends his lunchtime playing, if it wasn’t for Kuroo he would even forget to eat, so it’s no wonder than the captain wants to know what is grabbing the attention of his best friend.

He followed Kenma’s gaze once he lift his eyes up, finding you laughing with your friends. He has seen you before, you were in the same class as Kenma and sat behind him. You also seemed to enjoy volleyball and gaming as much as his friend, as he has seen you in their volleyball matches wearing a well love Legend of Zelda hoodie. He looks at you again, you were hearing whatever your friend was telling you with a smile on your face, before he looks back at Kenma, his eyes shining in a very particular way

“Do you know her?” Kuroo asks his friend, making him come out of his small trance

“Yn? Yeah, she’s my classmate” he answers back again with his nonchalant expression

“I meant it as actually knowing her, talking to her” he insist, seeing a faint blush on his friend face

“Yeah, she’s nice”

“She has to be more than nice for you to be so unsubtle with your heart eyes for her”

“I’m not…looking at her like that” he mumbles with a mixture of annoyance and shyness, as he hides his face in the scarf around his neck. Kuroo smirks at his friend response, not believing anything that comes out of his mouth, especially when Kenma lifts his eyes towards you again only to find out that you were looking at him too. Kuroo laughs out loud now as the both of you blush, putting a hand on Kenma’s shoulder

“Well, I don’t think you’re the only one with heart eyes” he says encouraging only to receive a glare from Kenma, a useless glare considering how red he is. His friend is definitely in love.

Osamu

Osamu is not concentrating as he should be in this practice match. He knows it, Atsumu has pointed out, Kita also remind him that they were playing several times, and now even the coach is pointing it out, scolding him for not taking this practice match seriously.

But it’s not his fault, Osamu thinks to himself, how it’s he supposed to concentrate when you are in the bleachers watching the match alongside your friends? How is he supposed to not look at you when you look so cute being all excited every time they score a point?

However, he doesn’t really understand why he is so unable to focus. Normally when you want to impress someone you would try your hardest to be better than normal, trying to stand out for them to notice. So how come his brain decided to do the exact opposite? Not only he was failing his serves miserably, but also he has unable to stop looking at you, resulting in him pathetically failing at receiving some of the easiest serves.

“Oi” Atsumu calls him once the coach finished talking “What the hell is wrong with ya?! Ya suck!”

“Eh?” Osamu looks at him back “I don’t suck, maybe yer’re the problem, dontcha think?”

“Me?! Ya know damn well I ain’t the problem here!” Atsumu throws him a ball, however he can catch it quite easily “What are ya even looking at?!”

“I think I know” says Suna smirking, looking in your direction and making him look at you too. Atsumu also follows his brother gaze, noticing how Osamu’s eyes change slightly when you lock eyes with him “What is it Samu? You like- Oi, listen to me”

Osamu is listening to everything, however he can’t seem to process any words coming out of his friends mouth, only focusing on you…until he received a slap on the back of his head

“Oi, stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, ya fucking weirdass, she ain’t food” Atsumu says this time. Weird? Was he being weird? Osamu doesn’t know if you find it weird or not, but he does know that he doesn’t like Atsumu calling him out like that

“The fuck? I don’t do that, I don’t know what yer’re talking about” he says defensively, a useless attempt, really

“Ya liar! Ya haven’t stop looking at her this whole time!” Atsumu says again “No wonder ya have no fans, yer’re a weirdo”

“I’m not! Shut ya trap, ya asshat!” he says, feeling a slight hotness in his face

“Whatever, I will not allow ya to be useless right now” Atsumu says simply, walking towards the fence where you were standing “Oi! Yn-chan! Will ya go out with Osamu later?!”

He screams at you, making you blush and look back at Osamu, who also has a red face. Despite being embarrassed, you nod your head, receiving a bunch lf teasing remarks from your friends as Atsumu comes back to the team

“What was that for?!” Osamu screams at his brother

“There, got ya a date with her. Now, if ya keep playing bad I’ll ask the coach to replace ya” Atsumu answers, clearly too focus on the match to notice that he help his brother to have a date with the girl he likes

Osamu scoff slightly annoyed, however, it fully sinks in once he saw your happy, blushed face while Suna pats his back. He has a date with you, and he was excited for that, but now he has a practice match to focus on

Sakusa

“So like…Do you like her or something?” he hears Komori say besides him, making him turn his head towards him, a confused expression on his face. Who was Komori talking about?

“Why would you think that? How could you think that?” Sakusa asks. He seriously doesn’t get from where his cousin gain that idea, it’s not like he was doing anything in particular

“Because you keep staring at her like you’re in love or something” Komori says, pointing with his head to where you were, sitting on the other side of the classroom. Oh

Oh.

Everything suddenly just… clicked into Sakusa’s head, he was looking at you this whole time, your presence so relaxing that he didn’t even notice that he was staring at you. But then again, you always have manage to change his behaviors a little.

He recalls meeting you for a group project in where the teachers assigned the groups, and since you two where the only ones doing the job, he ended up finding you pleasant to be with. You two started to do homework together, which turn into you befriending Komori too, which somehow turn into you sometimes joining them for lunch or going to cheer them on their practice.

Soon enough your presence went from pleasant to likeable, which lead into him going to you from time to time. He didn’t understood a part of the lesson? He demanded you explain it to him. He received way too many gifts by his annoying fans? You’re the only person he even offers some of them before throwing them away. He was annoyed or anxious by the loud room? He always tries to find you there to feel at ease, because you always seem to find a way to calm him down. Like now, that you felt his eyes on you, which made you smile warmly to him, making all his worries disappear.

Komori was right. He’s in love with you.

He doesn’t even answer his cousin before standing up and going to your sit, with you receiving him with a playful yet worried smile.

“My practice ends at 6.00 pm today, wait for me” He says, it wasn’t an order but also wasn’t a question

“Yeah, I’ve nothing to do, thanks for asking” you say sarcastically, making him roll his eyes “Sure, I’ll wait. What for?”

“You’ll know later” he says before going back to his -smirking- cousin. It took him long enough to realize his feelings for you, he wasn’t going to take any longer to confess.

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hajimeseyo · 3 months

Text

You're staring, Izana notices.

He has no idea who you are, really, but you've been trying (and obviously failing) to sneak subtle glances at him the entire time since he stepped into the convenience store. It's starting to throw him off, just a little. For all he knows, you could be a spy from an opposing gang. Not a very good one, though.

Your gaze follows him as he walks towards the cashier and pays, and even as he walks towards the exit, plastic bags in hand. He pays it no mind as he feels it shift off him, the sound of the cashier greeting you the last thing he hears as he steps outside the store.

It didn't seem like you were going to pick a fight with him, he might as well just leave it be.

Besides, any gang that dared to come after Tenjiku would just be mercilessly crushed under his heel. A spy or two wouldn't change that fact.

The clouds above him rumble, dark and heavy, and he frowns, looking up at the cloudy sky. It would be a pain in the ass if it rained while he was in the middle of walking home. Maybe he could call Kakucho to pick him up. Or he could just buy an umbrella from the store right behind him…

The sound of footsteps snap him out of his thoughts, and he glances to the side to see you, head lowered and lips mouthing numbers as you take inventory of the things in your plastic bag. You don't seem to have noticed him, he notes in amusement.

His theory proves true when you look up, done from counting, and nearly jump at the sight of him staring straight at you. Your eyes are wide, the way you freeze reminding him of a prey caught by its hunter, and he can't stop himself from having a little fun.

“You were staring at me quite a lot earlier, huh?” He says, relishing in the way your face flushes with embarrassment, and the way you instantly try (and fail) to school it into a look of nonchalance. “Is there a problem?”

You cough awkwardly, eyes suddenly unable to look at him despite being fully glued onto him just minutes ago. Izana watches you squirm, all too used to these shows of discomfort. Based on most of his past interactions, you'll probably come up with some lame excuse on why you were staring at him, then take the first opportunity you have to run away. Or get defensive, and aggressively deny you were doing anything of the sort. People always act the same when confronted with their actions. Izana's used to the same old song and dance.

He wonders which route you’ll take.

To his surprise, you take neither of them.

You seem to come to a decision, gaze snapping up to him, nervous but suddenly full of what seems like determination.

“There's no problem, I was just staring because–” You falter a little here, cheeks reddening a little again, before you pull yourself together with a quick shake of the head. “Because, well…your eyes.”

“Hm?” That response certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “What about them?”

“They're beautiful.”

The words are said so plainly, without a trace of any doubt, and Izana is shocked speechless.

While he doesn't deny that he's good looking, the word ‘beautiful’ and any part of him have never been together in the same sentence before. That he's heard of, at least. Even if any of his subordinates had the guts to consider him ‘beautiful’, they definitely wouldn’t have the guts to say it to his face. Granted, you probably don’t have any idea who he is, but still. This is definitely a first.

(And even so, the thought that something about him could be beautiful was something that had never occurred to him.)

“...Really?” The words come out in a whisper before he could stop himself.

You nod vigorously, and once again Izana is thrown off by the fact that it's something you're so sure of. As if the thought of it being untrue has never even crossed your mind.

His response seems to appear to you as an invitation to talk more, as you continue speaking, hesitation fading away with each word that comes out of your mouth. “They're just such a beautiful shade of purple, like amethysts. I've never seen anything like it before. And paired with your long white eyelashes and white hair, you look like someone's painting came to life.”

"I don't know if anyone's told you before, but you're really a sight to behold."

There's a light, pleasant feeling in his chest.

He doesn't know what it is.

“Ah!” You suddenly slap your hands over your mouth. “I spoke too much! God, I must've sounded like a creep, I'm so sorry–”

A laugh cuts you off from your panicked rambling. Izana doesn't quite know why he's laughing, but seeing you panicking over saying the wrong things despite being fully shameless literally right before just seemed so funny, and well, there's such a nice warmth in his chest; indulging in it doesn't hurt, right?

(He doesn’t notice the stars in your eyes as you stare, almost in awe, at his laughing visage.)

“What’s your name?” You’re interesting, he’s decided. It would be a shame to let you just slip away.

“[name].”

He lets out a hum. “[name], huh…got it.”

“Wait.” You call out to him, just as he turns and begins to walk away. “What’s yours?”

He doesn’t notice, but as he turns back, there’s a genuine, serene smile on his face that would’ve shocked even the noisiest Haitani twins into silence at seeing it on the face of the highly feared leader of Tenjiku.

“Izana. Don’t forget it.”

(He’s scolded nonstop by Kakucho when he shows up at home, soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside.

“It’s not like you to be so careless.” Kakucho huffs, drying his hair roughly with all the fierceness of an Asian mom. “You knew it was going to start raining on your way back, why didn’t you just call for one of us to get you from the store?”

Izana hums unconcernedly. “I was already walking away from the store, I couldn’t just stop and turn back.”

“Huh?? Why the hell not??”

“Don’t be stupid, Kakucho. I would’ve looked so uncool.”

“??????”)

(part 2 here!)

#just a silly little drabble i thought of #no seriously tho bro is gorgeous #ethereal #beautiful #definitely deserves more love #i love pretty men 🫶#izana #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #my writing

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moon7jay · 3 months

Text

Enhypen with a s/o who suffers from an ED (hyung line)

Warnings : ed behaviours, body dysmorphia, low self esteem, self depreciation, suggestive in jay's, fluff, comfort, triggering content ahead, please proceed with caution<3

Requested by .・゜゜・ @onlyni-kis (I tried my best to make it realistic, I hope it helps you somehow)

Heeseung

He'd be so attentive and accomodating to your needs. As someone with an Ed, you're often not taken seriously. Your mental problems are not considered valid. And so you usually avoid social settings where people can pass up unnecessary comments on your body or eating choices and heeseung never pressures you to get out if you don't want to. Because you lack confidence and even slight comments trigger you, heeseung makes sure that no one can do so while he's around. If he's around, you can freely go anywhere and do anything. He would have a reputation of a 0 tolerance boyfriend who did not like people perceiving you in anyway. So whenever he is around, people usually know to keep their words in check. He's your safe blanket. The only person you can be yourself with.

You were hanging out with heeseung's cousins in a family get together, sitting on heeseung's lap and indulging in oily food for once, trying to let go of the food guilt.

"y/n that's a lot of food for one sitting" one of them commented and even though the comment was harmless with no real intent to hurt you, it did hurt. Your appetite dying instantly as you gave them a sheepish smile ,standing up from heeseung's lap and excusing yourself from the setting, not wanting your useless tears to fall and ruin everyone's mood. Heeseung let you walk away to collect your emotions but the instant icy glare he shot towards his cousin was something his family would never forget.

"I thought I made it clear that when y/n comes over you better watch your fucking mouths" he gritted through clenched teeth, the nerve on his forehead throbbing with how much effort it was taking him to stop himself from punching his cousin's stupid face. He found you standing in the kitchen, the food that was previously on your plate was now in the trash can and you just stood there staring at it, your small sniffles reaching his ears. You jumped upon feeling two strong arms wrap around your waist but melted into heeseung's touch in an instant.

"Baby, it's okay, have you seen the amount of food that i eat? On the daily basis?" His words made you snort, how ladylike. It was true, heeseung always made sure to load his plate full, piling stuff to the top just so he could make you laugh and forget about your own portion size. It always worked.

"Let's get out of here and I'll take you to this new ice cream parlor I've been meaning to try, would you like that baby? Just me and you?" He peppered small kisses along the length of your neck tenderly, making you close your eyes and just bask in his love. "Yeah I'd love that" you whispered. He was enough for you. You could deal with anything as long as you were in his arms.

Jay

Watching yourself in the mirror was always daunting for you, having no idea of what you really looked like, just constant voices in your head chanting "ugly" were all you could focus on. The dress that you were trying on was tight, it was suffocating. Not thin enough, not pretty enough, starve, starve-

A choked sob escaped your lips and you covered your mouth instantly, realizing that you were in a public space and your boyfriend was right outside. Jay's thought made you cry more, all of your self doubts creeping in and you turned away from the mirror, unable to look at your distorted reflection any longer. You often questioned why he was with you, you were nothing but a mess of a person, not pretty, not normal... just a gaping wound was what you were. Always bleeding. A sudden knock at the changing room's door jolted you out of your thoughts and you quickly wiped your tears, breathing in through your nose to make your voice less wobbly "yes?" you asked, hoping it was just a staff.

"baby let me in please" came jay's sweet voice and you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh leaving your lips. He knew you were having a breakdown, of course he knew, he always knew. You trudged towards the door and yanked it open, presenting your tear stained face to your worried boyfriend. Jay took you in his arms in an instant, cooing and shushing you when you started sobbing in earnest. "talk to me love, I'm right here" he whispered, running his palms all over your body, caressing you with so much tenderness it made you tighten your hold around his neck.

"I just-i don't like this dress" you choked out in the crook of his neck and he hummed in understanding "but I think it looks stunning on you baby" He whispered. His words made you pull back, still sniffing but staring into his eyes to detect a lie being told to placate you.

"You do?" you asked softly, not trusting your voice just yet. He nodded and turned you around, a gasp leaving your lips while your back rested against his chest. Your eyes met his in the mirror and you shied away from the intensity of his gaze. You watched as he ran his hands all over your body, your breath hitching when he cupped your chest, travelling down to your waist, then to your hips "so perfect" he whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. "look at the way it hugs your curves sweetheart, and the vibrant blue which brings out the color of your eyes", your eyes widened upon realizing that he was right, the dress did do wonders in highlighting your eyes. " look at the way it hugs your hips baby, driving me crazy" and it did, it hugged your hips so snugly, the fit so perfect now that you were seeing yourself in new light. His fingers dug into your waist, his lips touching your earlobe while he told you how beautiful you were. "let me take you home and show you how much I like this dress" He groaned and you bit your lower lip at his suggestion, suddenly feeling so sexy and so desired. He was so good at making you feel like this gorgeous person that you never thought you were. But he was here. And he wanted you. He thought you were pretty and that's all that mattered to you. It didn't heal you but it did make things easier.

Jake

He would be the type of boyfriend who keeps you stacked with your diet soda and 0 calorie foods. After he started dating you he had quickly grasped the severity of your condition, and even though it was out of his hand to actually help you, he did try his best to just be there for you.

"Jake I didn't order these" you asked your boyfriend in confusion, pointing towards the two full boxes of konjac noodles sitting on the kitchen counter. He walked towards you with a smile and pulled you into him. "I did, aren't they your favorite noodles? I was just trying to be a good boyfriend".

Favorite noodles. No they weren't. And you knew that jake knew that, but he didn't like to make you feel like there was something wrong with you, and you appreciated that so much. Your lower lip wobbled upon seeing the new cans of coke zero stacked on the side counter as well. Never had anyone cared so much about your needs and it was making you choke on your emotions. You had been running out of your ed foods and were trying to push back buying them because of the increasing prices, not wanting to waste money on your own hunger because according to you, you didn't deserve to eat anyway.

"How'd you know?" you whispered through a sniffle, already feeling the onslaught of tears. "because I know you, and I love you" He whispered back, wiping your tears and capturing your lips in his own, kissing you through your breakdown.

Sunghoon

You didn't want to overthink it. You really didn't, but your boyfriend was gorgeous and so it was inevitable that he got female attention wherever he went. And most girls ignored your presence beside him, fawning over him as if he didn't have his fingers intertwined with yours. She was beautiful, the girl your boyfriend had been laughing with when you stepped into his office unannounced. That was your biggest mistake because now you couldn't help but compare. Compare the thighs, the arms, the waist... you were nothing like her. Were these the women sunghoon spent his entire day with? and he still chose to come back to your plain self? What were you even doing with yourself? You should be starving harder, you decided. Just a few inches more and your waist might start looking like her, and maybe a few more inches on your thighs would make everything better and the- you were spiralling again. Unable to stop it even though you knew the consequences.

"This is the 3rd order this week baby" sunghoon's voice made you turn towards your bedroom door, mentally cursing upon finding the packaged waist trainer in his hands. You panicked and snatched it from his hands, mumbling a quick thank you and not meeting his eyes. You could feel his probing gaze on you. "You haven't stepped outside of this house in weeks, care to tell me what's going on?"

You hadn't lost weight, you weren't pretty enough yet, didn't he understand?? You couldn't just go outside looking like this, was he out of his mind?. Warm hands cupping your cheeks pulled you out of your inner monologue and you looked up at his intense eyes staring down at you. He rubbed his thumbs onto your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours

"Do you remember the first day of high school? When you had the biggest zit on your nose?" He asked and you looked up at him confused, not knowing where this conversation was headed but nodded regardless. "I loved you then" he whispered and your throat tightened, remembering how he was probably the only one in your entire grade who didn't make a comment on your acne. "And the time when you fell face first into the muddy water before class cuz you were an idiot who never looked at the ground while walking" The memory made you giggle but sunghoon only smiled fondly , kissing your nose "you were drenched from head to toe but i loved you then. I loved you so much y/n". You could feel the moisture gathering in your eyes at his confession, knowing that you spent your entire teen years hating yourself so much to the point that you failed to see the love that was around you. Remembering how you would shy away from your own reflection in the class windows because you despised yourself to the core. "And I loved you when you slapped me, loved you so much that it hurt". Tears were falling freely now, the painful memory of you slapping sunghoon after he confessed his feelings for you because you thought he was trying to make fun of you, coming back to you. cuz in your head there was no way that a guy like him could ever want something to do with you, so you automatically concluded that it was a prank, a distasteful one. "and I love you right now y/n, I love you because you're you. I can't live without you because your soft snores are the only thing helping me fall asleep most days. Because your stupid jokes are the only ones I'd ever fake my laugh for- you gasped through your tears and slapped his chest lightly, making him chuckle. "I love you because I can't help it. It's that easy to love you. " he continued , wiping your tears, "don't you understand baby? You never had to try to make me love you, so why now?". You buried your face into his chest and sobbed, feeling like a huge rock had been lifted off of your chest. His assurance was what you craved the most. The reminder that you were enough for someone. For him.

"I want you just like you are sweetheart, flaws and scars intact. Raw and unfiltered. Now that I have you in my arms, please don't take that away from me" He whispered, wrapping his hands tightly around your heaving body.

"If it's hard for you to love yourself,please let me do it for you" and just like that, he was again fixing the parts of you that he didn't break.

#enha #enhypen #lee heeseung #jay #jake sim #park sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x you #park jongseong

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romanoffsbish · 4 months

Text

Surprise, Surprise

Scarlett Johansson x Reader (no pronouns used)

Scarlett was wrapping up another day on set when she got unexpected news… Aka, R visits her on set | WC: 1,366

A/N: Purely fluff — R is not given any description but their infant is described as looking like them both.

"Your son is the cutest!" Elizabeth sang as she giddily approached Scarlett who had been stood behind an accordion panel, changing out of her characters outfit. The blonde grinned and nodded along, it was the truth and she was used to her costar gushing over your son, but it was usually over photos she'd show her...

——

“His cheeks are just so chubby, and so squishy—you and Y/N created a little cutie; bring him to set more."

"What do you mean more?" Elizabeth's smile fell, "I am now realizing I might've ruined a surprise."

Scarlett smiled at her aloof friend, "Thanks for that!"

Then she took off in a hurry, abandoning her plans to change, leaving in her favorite pair of sweats and her character's black and blue striped crop top instead. It had been a week since she last saw you two, as you both agreed moving your son a lot wasn't ideal, so she filmed during the week and was home on weekends.

Except the last one since she had to film promo for The Outset in New York while your current home was in LA so it was random fleeting hours over FaceTime, and that made her dream for the day her schedule clears.

Scarlett needed you in her arms more than she needed anything else, well besides to kiss your son's cheeks so she kept up a decent pace even though she was winded. Just as she rounded the corner of the lot she caught sight of you walking up the steps of her trailer, her eyes sparkled with joy, but then they narrowed when she saw the diaper bag lowly dangling from your arm, with your other hand cradling your sleeping babies head to your chest, you were clearly trying to safely ascend.

The blonde jogged a little faster, concern ebbing its way into her soul as she saw you move up another step. Just as you were about to move again she arrived, her hand seamlessly took the diaper bag so you could grip the side rails while her other firmed against your back.

Scarlett felt as you sighed and it made her smile, you opened the door and almost as soon as you entered she had circled you and stopped in front of you. "Thanks."

Your wife smirked, "No need to thank me love,” her lips then closed the distance left between yours and her hand pushed you into her, “I always got your back."

Scarlett giggled when you threw your head back with a playful groan, “you’re just so cheesy Scar, stop it…”

Your wife instantly pouted, feigning offense, “Why?”

“Because I can’t have our son following your lead,” you responded while gently cupping his ears to make sure your wife understood the message. “He’s vulnerable.”

Scarlett scoffed, “If I remember correctly it was my corny quips that won you over baby, you ate it up.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” you deflected with ease as you slid from her hold and started to move towards her bed so you could set Noah down, but just before you could she pulled you back in and kissed you until you had forgotten what you were planning to do.

The blonde felt warmth slowly spread throughout her body as she melted into the feeling of your thumbs gently caressing the soft skin of her fuller hips. Just beneath her chin lay the adorable, snoring cause. It was hard for her at first, adjusting to the physical demands of pregnancy but then she had your son.

Not only was he the most adorable infant she’d ever seen, but she saw the natural way in which you took to parenthood. With the unwavering love you not only held, but expressed, like in small moments like these, she learned to cherish the changes and to crave more.

If not for her predetermined, already rearranged once schedule she would have convinced you to make more. Hell, she even considered asking you right now… This is her last commitment for a long while, and shooting was set to wrap up next month. It was the perfect time.

A soft whine pulled the two of you apart just in time for a pouting baby to whip his head back from your chest, his eyes and frown shone with deep grumpiness as he slowly blinked, eyes fluttering with a clear fight as his body decided if it was even ready to be awakened yet.

Scarlett smirked at you and you nodded your head in agreement, the two of you shared another peck before both of your lips firmly planted on your son’s cheeks. He grunted initially but the two of you felt them upturn and a gentle giggle left him at the tickling sensation.

“There’s mama’s happy boy,” Scarlett coo’d and your son’s head whipped to the side as if he had only just realized who it was that kissed you and his right cheek. His giddy babbles warmed your heart but his inability to keep still strained your back and led to you swiftly removing him from the harness so he could leap to her.

Scarlett caught him with ease and you sighed in relief. It was his new favorite habit, he’d just leap from one person to the next, hence the need for a baby carrier to restrain his urges and the potential script for Xanax you’ll need as he becomes more daringly independent.

The two of them were in their own world the moment you were no longer attached to them, swaying softly as she told him all about her week. It almost hurt your feelings but you knew it was their time to bond and hers to finally spill the movie secrets even you weren’t allowed to hear so you ventured off to the bathroom.

When you returned thirty minutes later, after having slipped off to take a walk—something you also needed, they were calmly laying in the bed, your sons sleeping face was now smushed against her exposed abdomen and you smiled at the scene from the ajar door.

“You’re letting a draft in,” your wife teased as she shut the book in her hand. Without a word you replied by shutting the door and moving further into her trailer. Scarlett watched you curiously as you slipped your shoes off then as gently as you could you joined them.

Her fingers softly stroked over the skin of your cheek, then it did the same for your sons right after as you were both currently utilizing her stomach as a pillow. As her hand returned to rest on your head yours moved to continue to caress your son’s sweet face.

Noah was your first of hopefully many, miracles, the perfect blend of you two in both features and attitude. Scarlett’s heart nearly combusted as she saw the same desires she held for months now blossom in your eyes.

“How much longer until you’re all ours Scarlett?” The blonde gently guided your face until your chin was resting against the softened muscles of her abs. “I am always all yours,” she smiled gently, her gaze genuine as she stroked your cheek. “My entire heart is here.”

“Entire?” She nodded, gaze a bit confused as you questioned her level of loyalty. “That’s too bad…”

Now she was amused, and played right along, “Why?”

“Kinda hoping there’s room for more,” you began, voice light and lovestruck as you cradled your son’s face in one hand and reached out for hers. “More?”

You nodded, then confirmed her hopes, “More little ones just like this goober that’s drooling all over you.”

Scarlett beamed, “I’ve been hoping you’d say that for actual months now baby. I want endless little you’s.”

You smiled as you placed a gentle kiss to the subtle ridges that adorned her stomach before nuzzling against the warm skin—an attempt to burrow into her which you knew to be impossible, yet you always tried.

“I love you, my beautiful baby mama,” you mumbled tiredly, lips gentle as they kissed her belly once more. The blonde chucked then stared down at your calm face in relief. “I love you too, you beautiful fool.”

#scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson blurb #scarlett johansson fluff #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #gxg

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merlinssassybeard · 11 months

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'Ex' Husband Gojo

Tags- fem reader x Gojo, swearing, angst.

Synopsis: The reader had a miscarriage and her husband wasn't there with her to give her support and now she's mentally shaken. Y/n decides to divorce him and but things take a way different turn...

Gojo and reader are married for 4 yrs and love each other profoundly but a terrible accident happened with reader and caused reader a miscarriage and was going through a very bad time. Reader wanted Gojo there to help mentally and emotionally but he was busy with curses...

"Satoru", you began with a shaky voice.

Your husband Satoru Gojo had all your attention the moment you said his name.

You had called up Satoru to the Tokyo estate, your marital home, for 'an important emergency talk'. These words were enough for Gojo to run from his busy packed schedules to run home to check up on you.

"Hmm?", Satoru hummed indicating you he's all ears. Both seated opposite to each other in the kitchen.

"Satoru, i-", you hesitated but continued, " Satoru, i want divorce...."

At first, he was unresponsive, still processing whether the words he heard were real or some weak residual cursed technique from cursed spirits left on him considering he came right after finishing a mission.

"Divorce?" Satoru came to his senses, "is this... some sort of.. joke my love MRS y/n? Cus' I'm really not liking it!", he tried to laugh it off.

But this wasn't a joke.

Not for you.

You're done.

Done giving him all of everything you have and receiving none.

You had your head slightly bowed down, unable to summon the energy, the strength to look right into his eyes. "This is not a joke, Satoru Gojo.", "i cannot live like this anymore".

Satoru knew it was indeed serious by the tone of it so he's demeanor changed as well.

"Why is it so y/n?", he mumbled in his soft husky voice while extending his hand towards yours to hold. "Is it something i did? You know you can tell me. I told you beforehand marrying me wasn't going to be easy, you remember?"

Yes he is right. He did told you a bazillion times when you nagged him for marriage anytime and everytime you saw him breathing around you. He had told you enough times that being his wife and also in a conservative society isn't going to be a cakewalk. 'Once married, there is no way out of the marital bond since its a holy bond, blessed by the heavens themselves' or as they said, but you didn't care, at that time.

"Reasons don't matter.", you flinched your hands away from his approach and passed the envelope with the papers and got up. "You'll find my signatures in there. Please be civil. Don't want any drama."

Satoru didn't knew what to say since he didn't even expected such a devastating and mind boggling news either. He had just finished his mission overseas and had taken only an hour of rest before being assigned another 'clean up' duty (messed/botched mission by another sorcerer) and in the middle of it he gets your call for an emergency meet up at the house.

He has been working all around the clock and came home to see you, hoping to receive kisses or you expecting souvenirs, which he had plenty just for you. But instead he got this ..... a farewell?

Gojo stayed seated there, watching you leave the kitchen to the room. He stayed seated there for a moment wondering what did he do, where did he go wrong, did he go wrong? Are you alright? Is this a cry for help? Is everything okay with you?

He wanted to check up on you so he got up to head towards the bedroom where you were but stopped dead in his tracks when it hit him, the reason....

"Y/n", you heard the door slide open and Gojo calling your name.

He opened the door and saw you were.... packing? God, you're really not joking.

"Yes?", you gathered the strength to look up at him for the first time in months! Due to his 'business trips' and you swear to god you would have fell down crying as your knees went weak.

"Is it...", he stumbled to say further but he knew he had to confront you with this, "is it because of that thing we talked about? On the phone?"

You knew you will burst out crying in front of him if he talked any further and because of that you couldn't speak either, holding tight onto lips to avoid the tears.

"Uh huh mmmhh mmmhh" you nodded and tried to avoid eye contact.

Oh no! Satoru knew he messed up. But he couldn't just let you... leave!? How could he? He knows and you too, that you are the only person who makes him vulnerable to the point he acts like child, only with you. You are the only one who actually makes him happy and content with his life in this miserable shite world. No words describe your and his relationship. So just how could he just let you leave?

"Y/n. I get it. You want kids." He mumbles, "then we'll have kids! Okay?" He declared.

You looked at him, and when he said that he looked as if he's been held under gun point, reluctant, yet... determined?

No! Yes, you do want children but the role of a father cannot be forced upon a man! That way the child will only be a 'burden' rather than a child born out of love and acceptance.

"No need." You announced and turned your back to him and started putting your clothes in the bag. "My mind can't be changed"

Gojo was left puzzled. He is ready to give you what you had been asking the day you both got married, what his and your parents wanted and the entirety of the Jujutsu Society had a keen eye on.

"I can't let you leave y/n like this", he said not knowing what to do either.

"Okay, I'll put on some fresh clothes.", you replied unbothered.

"No y/n i I told you once you're married you can't!", Satoru tried to come up with some reasoning.

"How the FUCK i cannot?" You yelled right onto his face, throwing the dress in your hand on the floor, annoyed at everything and anything.

"You just CAN'T!", Satoru tried to hold his sanity together.

"I AM FUCKING LEAVING! Divorce or NOT!", You snapped at him and went to pick the dress up and put it in the bag.

"Listen y/n, we can't go with divorce, it'll cause a lot of talk in the family and there's more but we just can't...", he tried to reason with you calmly but you were not in the mood.

"Why do you suddenly want me in your life when from the past fucking 4 years all you have done is being out on your trips?" You sneered and mocked, "Announcing we're going to have kids! Wow! That's not how it works Satoru!"

Satoru now lost it.

"Then what IS IT YOU WANT!? Haven't i given enough? You wanted this marriage! Not me! But i went for it because it was you! Went against my family for you and kept you away from them but what do you care" (your in-laws are toxic and would love to dance over your grave)

"Thats because i refuse to be your whore! You called me up whenever you felt like it. Might as well be your wife rather than just be some whore you sleep with on friday nights."

You recognized what you just babbled out and its disgusting. Your hands involuntarily moved and covered your mouth. You couldn't ever fathom the words you puked.

It is NOT like that! Not at all! You love Satoru, you Have been for a long time! And to have him as your husband is a dream come true! But how could say such lowly things.

Satoru just stood there. It was like one explosion after the other. So that is it? You came to him... for looks? For money? For sex? Goddammit! Satoru wanted to laugh because women of his family warned him not to marry some average human girl, saying further that you'll rob him of his money one day. But he didn't and just stood there watching the horror in your eyes unfold.

Satoru saw you as the only person in his life that made him actually understand the definition of love. Especially someone human, a non sorcerer like you. Thought of you made him content and calm, knowing he has someone waiting for him...... but not anymore.

He rubbed his temple as he'd been without an eye covering this whole time and his head ached a little with all this drama unfolding. He smiled through and looked at you, "that's what you think of me y/n?"

"No-no Satoru! Thats not what meant! Ugh! I don't want the divorce anymore!-"

He interrupted, "ah its okay, totally okay. I'll sign em."

Gojo was awfully calm and collected and you knew that when he's like this he would explode like a volcano if irked.

"No i will not let you!" You screamed and pushed him and ran out of the room in a frenzy to retrieve the divorce papers and tore the sections with your signature into tiny unrecognizable trash.

Satoru walked into the kitchen and just stood there. "You can have this house. I'll have Ijichi send down some papers later."

You eyes widened, "what..... papers?"

"Separation papers", he replied.

His gaze went around the house randomly and said, "since you don't wanna be a-" he stop and looks at you but continues.

"Since you do not wish to be a 'whore', you're free from me. I don't want chaos in both of our families so im suggesting separation. Yeah? Works in favor of both of us"

You were shook. You knew what you were doing when you brought the divorce papers but you didn't expected it to become so real.

"I'm leaving now. I'll send for my things so please don't throw my things just yet! Haha." Satoru was throwing jokes at a moment like this.

Damage has been done.

You ran out as soon as you saw him leave. You kept saying that its not what you meant and there's more to it and what not. But he just wore his blindfold and got into the car.

You saw him shut the door on your face and uttered his last words as your husband to you....

"Congratulations, Ms y/n. This'll be the last time you'll see me and when you think you're ready for divorce, lemme know!"

Part 2

Series masterlist

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obsessedelusional · 1 year

Text

What the f*** are you looking at?

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x You/Reader

summary ✦ As a fellow social reject you sat at the same lunch table as the Hell Fire club. You didn’t mind, forming a crush on their leader Munson. What happens when one day he catches you starting?

authors note ✦ Okay this is tmi but my freshman year of high school I had a fat ass crush on this boy he was the class clown always doing the most one day I turn around as he’s being loud and he says “What’re you looking at?” And then continues to tell his friends I’m always staring at him. Literally so traumatizing LMAO turned it a cute lil fluff piece about Eddie. Obviously my life didn’t end out like this lol

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

The first three years of high school were all the same. You spent everyday alone, your face tucked away in a book. Sometimes you’d wonder what it would be like to be a little reckless. Maybe even do something kind of stupid. Pretend for once that you didn’t give a fuck. Truth was you gave too many fucks. Constant state of worry and anxiety. It was much easier to be invisible. Doing everything in your power to be as unseen as possible.

Which is exactly why you admired Eddie Munson. He gave off the most I don’t give a fuck energy you had ever seen. You were insanely jealous that he is so effortlessly him self. Something you struggled with as long as you can remember.

Eddie was so attractive in your eyes. Most of the books you read were romance, the main man a stereotypical bad boy. You always imagined Eddie when reading the many stories. Forming a giant crush on him years ago.

One perk of being a social reject was having no choice but to sit at the same table as him. Getting a front row seat to his shenanigans. The Hell Fire Club took up half of the table while the rest of the school losers sat at the other end. Sometimes you would wonder why you few didn’t just befriend each other. No one ever brave enough to be the first person to introduce themselves.

Today was no different, you were sat the lunch table reading as a way to pass the time and hopefully stop anyone from talking to you. The large thud at the other end of the table has you looking up from the pages in front of you. You look to see Eddie putting on his usual theatrics.

“Fuck this school.” His voice spreading across the lunch room. Most people so used it they don’t bother looking his way. You on the other hand look for any excuse to stare at Eddie. Jason makes a snarky comment which only fuels Eddie’s fire.

“And fuck you too!” He flips Jason off before finally taking a seat. You can’t help but feel for him something must be truly bothering him. That quickly changes when his head snaps upwards his eyes move directly at you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” He spits talking to you. Your eyes go wide, entirely in shock. Never once had you actually interacted with Eddie. Always wanting to, would even imagine how it would go down. Not like this.

“Dude what the fuck?” Jeff says to Eddie.

“What? She’s always fucking staring.” Eddie says, venom in his voice. Tears begin to brim your eyelids so you stand up, wasting no time to leave. You can hear the rest of the group telling him that was dick move.

You make your way to the nearly empty library. Where’d you spend the rest of lunch. After today you’d probably spend every lunch till you graduated in the library. Promising yourself you’ll never look at Eddie again.

—

It’s been over a week since the incident. You hadn’t seen Eddie since. Which was easy enough considering most of your classes were AP and he wasn’t in any of those. You ended up enjoying spending lunch in the library. It was quiet enough that there were little to no interruptions as you read.

The school day comes to an end. Your walking to your car, eyes on the floor. In an attempt to avoid all your classmates. That’s until you come to a screeching halt, someone’s blocking the door to your car. While you can only see their tattered white sneakers you recognize them immediately. It’s Eddie.

“I wanted to apologize.” His voice softer than his usual tone. You ignore him reaching for the door handle, he moves in the way blocking your hand.

“I’m so sorry.” He says while you continue to refuse to look at him.

“I was having a shitty day. Mrs. Davis was telling me off for falling behind in class. As I was leaving her classroom the principal calls me to the office, blaming me for the graffiti that appeared in the gym. Which wasn’t me by the way, if I was capable of that everyone would know it was me. Didn’t matter I got in trouble for it, two weeks of after school detention.” He keeps on rambling on and on about that events that happened before he snapped at you.

“Then Jason was being an asshole. I was so irritated and when I saw you looking at me I took it out on you. I became the asshole. I feel terrible.” He says, you can’t help but feel like he’s being genuine.

“It’s whatever. Can I get in my car now?” You say, your voice timid as usual.

“Please let me make it up to you.” He pleads. It takes all your will power to not look up at those big beautiful brown eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” You say reaching around him but he blocks you yet again.

“Please I miss catching the pretty book worm staring at me.” As the words come out of his mouth you can’t help but internally freak the fuck out. Is what he’s saying true? You can’t bring yourself to respond, too entirely overwhelmed by the situation.

“Look at me please.” His hand reaches for your chin in attempt to raise your face. You push it away, Eddie retracts his hand surprised by your reaction.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You’re focused on his hands, his fingers playing with the tear in his jeans.

“Cause I’m always fucking staring.” You are surprised by the words that come out.

“I’m serious when I say I miss it. Let me make it up to you. I want to take you out on a date.” You can sense the smile on his face, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Wishing nothing more than to escape this situation.

“This feels like a trap.” You respond.

“What?”

“If I say yes it’s gonna be a prank or something. The second I say yes you’re gonna start laughing as if the idea of anyone going out with me is ridiculous.”

“Do you really think that of me?” He asks, his tone sounds upset now.

“A week ago, no. Today? Maybe.”

“I don’t think the idea of anyone going out with you is ridiculous. I noticed years ago your constant gaze. I never minded. If anything I started going out of my way to get your eyes on me. Always making a fool of myself so I can see your smile when you finally get your head out of whatever book your reading.”

“Then why did you say what you said?” You ask.

“Because this time the reason you were looking my way was because I was throwing a tantrum. Like a giant toddler. I was embarrassed. You looked concerned while ever looked disgusted by the freak lashing out.” He sighs, you so desperately wishing you could muster up the courage to look up at Eddie.

“So I lashed out on you. I regretted it immediately. I swear.” Eddie explains.

“I forgive you.”

“You do?” His voice perks up.

“Does that mean you’ll let me make it up to you?”

“Maybe.” You smile, still focusing on his hands.

“Look at me, please.” He’s basically begging at this point. When you hesitate, he reaches for your chin. Only this time you don’t stop him. You’re face to face with Eddie now. So close to him, closer than you ever been.

“Do you believe me yet that this isn’t some elaborate joke on you?” Your lost deep in his eyes, unable to to process what’s happening. When you don’t respond he closes his eyes, moving closer to you. He’s about to kiss you, your first kiss. Unsure of what to do you close your eyes too. He plants a sweet short kiss on your lips before pulling away. Your eyes still closed when he pulls away.

“Believe me now?” You nod yes unable to form any words, eyes closed. He slips a piece of paper in your back pocket, the pocket that rests on your butt.

“It’s my number. Call me tonight?” Eddie asks.

“Okay.” You smile opening your eyes, Eddie’s lets out a small laugh before leaving you alone to process what just happened.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself. You reach in your pocket half expecting it to be blank or for it say that you’ve been pranked. Like this really was some elaborate joke on you.

It doesn’t say that. It is his number and his name with a little heart. It reads ‘sorry I was an asshole i promise to make it up to you’.

You smile thinking maybe it’s your turn to do something a lil reckless.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie imagine #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #munson #eddie the freak munson

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colormepurplex2 · 3 months

Text

Now I'm Yours | Feel It In Your Soul

↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ A/B/O, Established Relationship/Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,697 ⚠️ Vulgar language, fingering, knotting, creampie, discussion of violent acts, fighting/physical altercation, alpha challenge, knife violence/attack, blood, injury, bond sex, dick licking/oral, slick eating, biting/marking, blood/wound licking, surprise pregnancy

A/N: Read Make You Mine, the first installment of this series, here!

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to story masterlist

When you meet Jungkook’s family in the garage the next morning, the sun isn't even up yet. His parents are waiting next to the large SUV that’s idling by the open door when you enter through the side entrance from the laundry room.

After a hasty shower, you threw on jeans and a t-shirt and are now helping Junghyun load the back of the vehicle with a few boxes from the storage room. The tops of the boxes are labeled with various things, mostly boasting medical supplies or nonperishable foodstuffs.

“Did Jungkook say why he wanted us to bring all of this stuff?"

Junghyun looks up at you from under his brow as he bends over to retrieve the next box, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Donations. We’re going to be close to The Sanctuary, and we try to donate once a quarter if we’re able.”

This is the first you’ve heard of the Jeons donating to The Sanctuary. You’re intimately familiar with the place. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a sanctuary for abused or neglected omegas and their children. Mari was one such omega, cast aside by her original pack when she didn’t match with any of the alphas within it. It wasn’t until Roland, having just taken over as pack Alpha of your old pack, started up his own annual donations to The Sanctuary that he met Mari. Your old pack made at least a donation every six months after that, helping as many omegas and children as possible.

It’s not that you wouldn’t think the Jeons are a pack that would help those less fortunate; you’d just not given it much thought, considering you grew up thinking they were run by power-hunger alphaholes. Not that Jungkook isn’t an alphahole, he’s just…maybe not as bad as you once thought—even without the rose-tinged view you have of him now from being your mate.

The duel is taking place on neutral territory, which happens to be an old warehouse that’s been converted into a performance theatre in the entertainment district of the central city. The warehouse was renovated a few decades ago by the council when enough of the surrounding packs hounded them for a space to meet en masse.

It’s about three hour's drive, the view filled with the sun peeking over the mountains and trees with their leaves changing in preparation for winter. You sit in the passenger seat, head resting against the window while you try not to stress too much over the events of the next twenty-four hours.

“Come on, dear,” the soft voice of Jungkook’s mother drags you from your rumination. She’s leaning through the gap between the front seats, her hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. “We’re here.”

You hadn’t even realized the vehicle had stopped and that Junghyun and Jungkook’s father had gotten out already.

“Sorry,” you mutter, popping open the door and sliding out.

She meets you along the side of the SUV, a concerned look pinching her brow. “Are you feeling okay?”

Now that she mentions it, you are feeling a bit off-kilter. Though, it’s probably just the nerves. “Just worried, that’s all,” you explain, pressing a hand against your stomach.

“Did you skip breakfast?” she asks, hooking her arm around your other one and slowly leading you to where Junghyun and his father stand near the elevator of the parking garage.

Breakfast was the last thing on your mind this morning. “Yeah. I’ll be okay, though.”

“Nonsense,” she tuts, producing a whole-grain protein bar from the bag slung over her other shoulder. “You’ll feel better with something in your stomach. Now, let’s go find my son. Being near your alpha will do you a dose of good, as well.”

You nibble on the protein bar, looking to simply placate her, but find yourself suddenly ravenous and consume the whole thing in three bites. It sits like lead in your belly, and you immediately regret wolfing it down so quickly.

“This foolish display will start at precisely noon, not long now,” Jungkook’s father states, the clip of his cane hitting the linoleum flooring of the elevator echoing the disapproval that’s evident in his voice.

Junghyun presses the button that’s labeled ‘theatre hall’ on the control panel and the cabled car begins a swift ascent up to the fifth floor. You caught sight of Jungkook's motorcycle in the parking garage, sitting next to Jimin’s red sports car. A few other familiar vehicles lined the rows, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a familiar humming warmth bloom in the center of your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve learned to associate with being nearer to Jungkook. Peeking at your phone, you see it’s a message from the alpha, letting you know he’s waiting for you just on the other side of the elevator doors.

“There you are,” Jungkook exhales, not even waiting for you to get off the elevator before he’s gathering you into his arms. His scent engulfs you, immediately putting you at ease. Jungkook is all alpha, and as much as you hate to admit it, he’s exactly what you need; your stomach and nerves are instantly soothed.

Jungkook’s father clears his throat, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “What news do you have?”

Jungkook sighs, releasing most of his hold on you, but keeps an arm over your shoulders and ushers you out of the elevator and into the hall. “Most all the other families have arrived. Jimin is with Daehyun now. I haven’t managed to lay my eyes on either Raiden or Demetrius. According to the council, they’re supposed to be in the eastern dressing rooms. I have seen Kiel skulking around the halls, though, creepy bastard.”

“Have you seen Hyunsoo?” Jungkook nods in answer to his father’s question. “I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Last I saw him, he was inside speaking with the council.”

“Perfect, I could do with a word for them, too,” Jungkook’s father grumbles before starting toward the entrance to the performance hall proper. Junghyun follows closely behind, after dipping his chin at Jungkook. You’ve never seen Jungkook get bent out of shape over designation deference, as some alphas do. He doesn’t force those below him to bow and scrape; he just asks for as much respect as he affords them in exchange. It’s just another tick you’ve had to add to your ‘Jungkook isn’t as bad as I once thought’ list.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jungkook asks softly, his eyes flicking between yours.

You do feel much better now that you’re with him, which would normally grate on you, but you can’t seem to muster up the typical ire for some reason. “I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Just nerves.” That seems to satisfy him.

“Come on, let’s go before Dad causes too much of a scene.”

“Umm, I’ll be right there. I’m just going to go to the restroom real quick.”

He continues to stare at you for a moment longer before slowly nodding. “Okay. Mom, we’ll be right back—”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t have to come with—”

“Jungkook,” his mom interrupts you both, giving her son an amused smile. “She might be your omega, but I promise she doesn’t need you to hold her hand while she uses the restroom. I’ll wait here for her. You go on ahead with your father and Junghyun.”

Pink creeps up Jungkook’s neck and kisses his ears. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you inside,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before reluctantly taking his arm from across your shoulders and heading toward the door his father and brother disappeared through.

“Thank you,” you say to his mom. “I’ll be right back.”

You’ve only been here a handful of times over the years for various events, but you’re able to follow the signs well enough to the restrooms located on this side of the venue. However, when you get there, the door is locked, and there is a janitorial wet-floor sign posted right outside.

It’s just your luck, right as you’re starting to feel a light wave of nausea wash over you. Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your inner omega, who isn’t helping the situation at all, you turn to retreat back to where Jungkook’s mom is waiting for you a few halls over. Maybe she’ll have something that can calm your warring stomach and nerves.

“I can break the lock if you need to get in there,” a voice calls out from further down the hall just as you take a step to go back. “You look like you need it.”

You swivel toward the voice but can only make out the silhouette of someone standing in a darkened doorway a few doors down. They pull out a phone, and the blue light illuminates the ceiling for a moment before it’s plunged back into darkness. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You don’t look fine to me.” The words come with a chuckle that slithers over your senses and sets you on high alert. You’ve heard that voice before. “If fact, you look like a helpless little omega that’s about to sick up all over the floor.”

That’s a thought. You might just do that, considering who steps out from that doorway, the face fitting with the name screaming inside your head. Kiel Barton. He’s every inch the viperous bastard he’s known to be. Despite being not much taller than you, he’s thicker through each arm and leg than both of yours combined. His bald head glints in the overhead light, and the jagged scar on his right cheek is bright white against his red-flushed face. He swaggers into the hallway, just a few feet away, twirling a switchblade through his thick fingers.

“I’m not helpless,” you seethe through your teeth. You don’t necessarily mean for the words to come out so aggressively, but they do. Years of not taking shit from anyone don’t seem to have worn off too much from your time of being mated with Jungkook. And if it’s one thing you’ve always hated, it’s how everyone thinks omegas are weak and soft—helpless without an alpha.

Kiel grins, and it reminds you of something you might see in a horror film right before the psycho killer attacks. “Oh, sweet, sweet omega,” he crows before sucking in a deep lungful of air, “I don’t think you realize just how helpless you are right now.”

You’re about to turn on your heel and run when he leaps. It’s like a strike of lightning; he moves so fast—faster than your reflexes can keep up with. Pain thunders through you as his burly form knocks into you and sends you hurtling a few feet down the hall to land in a heap on the floor.

He’s back on you in an instant, cold steel pressed against your neck. “Get off me!” you scream, trying your best to buck him off despite the disorienting feeling still reeling inside your head.

“I promised my brother as long as he did his part, I would do mine,” Kiel sing-songs in a demented tone, his words trailing off into another one of those spine-chilling chuckles.

“Fuck you!” You struggle under his weight, your knees and elbows trying to get any purchase along his thick-muscled body that they can. You manage to catch him along the neck with your hand, nails scoring bloody lines through the devil tattoo he has there.

An ear-splitting roar, the sound of loud banging, and running feet sound from somewhere down the hall, making Kiel’s laughter trail off. “Looks like my time to play is—” A small, sneakered foot meets the side of his ribs, turning his words into a grunt. The hit barely rocks him, but you can’t be sure of who it is, though, around his bulk.

“Get off of her, you snake!” snarls a familiar feminine voice, only it’s dripping with far more acid than you’ve ever heard before.

“FUCK! I don’t have time for this!” Kiel thunders, rearing back and bringing a fist around right into your temple, sending you careening into hazy darkness.

There is so much noise and movement that when you first come to, you think you’re dreaming. But then the very real pain lights up along your side, and you’re reminded that this is very much not a dream. You’re laying on the floor in the hallway outside the bathroom, side smarting hard from the impact of hitting the floor and the memory of a meaty fist stark in your mind.

You go to sit up, only to have your hand slip through a puddle of warm, sticky liquid. The scent hits you a second later, thick and metallic. “Oh gods,” you whimper softly. Your hand is bright red when you bring it up in front of your face.

“Please,” comes an even more pitiful whimper from beside you. Adrenaline kicks in, and you flip onto your hands and knees, letting your eyes swing over the scene around you.

A dozen bodies are packed in the hall, fists flying and mouths opened in concussive bellows. It’s pandemonium. Everyone is fighting, familiar faces and those of strangers alike. All the sounds combined make you want to crawl into a corner and cover your ears, but the form lying beside you keeps you right where you are.

Jungkook’s mom lies on the floor. Her body turned at an odd angle, with her hips going one way and her torso the other as if she was flung around like a ragdoll. You realize the whimpering is coming from her. She lifts a trembling hand toward you, and you grab onto it, crawling closer to kneel beside her.

The blood covering your hand, now seeping through the knees of your jeans, is coming from her. A familiar-looking switchblade is protruding from the upper right area of her chest, between her clavicle and shoulder, and there is a cut over her left eyebrow that blood is steadily oozing from.

“No, no, no!” You quickly rip off a strip from the bottom of your t-shirt and press it around the blade, trying to staunch the wound. The cut above her brow doesn’t look deep; all the blood is a bit alarming, but you know headwounds are the worst in being deceptive; they bleed so much. You’re also scared to take your hands away from her chest. “What did you do?”

Her eyes flicker open, rolling wide until they land on you. “Had to”—she pauses, whimpering in pain as someone stumbles backward and knocks into her splayed legs—”pr-protect the baby.”

“Protect the–protect the wh—”

“NO!” The alpha roar echoes through the hall, as loud as a thunderclap.

In the same instant that your hands are moved aside and replaced by the older, more gnarled ones of her mate, arms come around you from behind and you’re lifted up off the floor. Fear grips your throat, and you flail, aiming your elbow backward at whoever grabbed you.

“Stop, calm down!” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your fight instinct, and you sag in his arms. The fighting around you has turned into pockets of isolated struggle.

You blink a few times, clearing the panicked haze from your eyes, finally able to piece everything together. There are a few busted lips and some already swelling eyes, but there are at least a handful of familiar faces around you. Each one is executing some form of hold over individuals with less familiar faces; headlocks, arm bars, and others that look just as effective, if maybe more painful.

Then there is the scene at your feet, right out of a horror movie. Jungkook’s dad and brother are kneeling beside his mom, the knife still sticking out of her chest. It looks like the blood has stopped pooling around the blade, but you can’t seem to remember if that’s a good or a bad sign.

“Jungkook! Your mom, we need a medic!” you urge, struggling in his arms again.

A sinister, wet, cackling laugh cuts through the hushed din of the hallway before it turns into a hacking cough. You can hear the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh and pained grunts.

”Shut up, you sick bastard!” The ragged cry comes from further down the hallway, where you see Seokjin with his arms wrapped around Kiel’s upper torso and Yoongi throwing fists into his stomach. “How dare you!?”

“Yoongi.” Jungkook doesn’t have to raise his voice at all. The other alpha stops, fist poised mid-punch, his shoulders heaving. “That’s enough.” The coldness in Jungkook’s tone has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. You’ve never heard him sound so utterly emotionless. “For now.”

Pounding footsteps sound from the other end of the hall, and a few betas come skidding into view, medical bags in hand. “Out of the way!” one of the betas shouts, shouldering his way down the hall before dropping down beside Junghyun and beginning to work. “I need to get her stabilized before we can move her.”

Everything is still a bit cloudy for you; all you have are flits and flashes of memory, but it’s not hard to piece it together. Kiel came after you outside the bathroom, and then Jungkook’s mom tried to interfere. “Is she, is she going to be okay?” you ask, voice soft, your lips trembling around the question.

Jungkook hooks an arm under the backs of your legs and hoists you up against his chest, and you get your first good look at his face. There is a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth and mild swelling coming up around his left eye.

He’s about to open his mouth to say something when a group of grey-haired alphas cut around the corner at the end of the hall, and the one in the front gasps dramatically, “Good gods! What has happened?” You groan at the loud sound, burying your face into Jungkook’s chest.

“This is what happens when you entertain absurd demands from a known trouble-making pack,” Jungkook’s father states with barely veiled malice.

“This is your mess,” Jungkook says, directing attention to the elders shuffling their feet at the end of the hall. His words are acerbic despite him speaking at a normal volume. It’s an alpha statement, carrying the cutting edge of an unspoken command. The entire hallway stills, the air thick with tension.

“Our mess?”

“If you had listened to me from the start about how utterly ridiculous this whole duel bullshit was, this”—he nods down at his mother, who is still being worked on by the betas—”wouldn’t have happened. I’ll have all of you off the council before the week is over, mark my words,” he seethes. “And, if she doesn’t recover fully, I’ll have more than just your titles. Yoongi, Seokjin, you know what to do.” With that, Jungkook turns and stalks down the hall, carrying you with him.

🌙🌙🌙

Jungkook

There is so much rage simmering beneath Jungkook’s skin that he thinks he might explode if he doesn’t let it out somehow. However, the only outlet he wants right now is you—to get lost in your body and your soul—but you’re in no state to take the brunt of his emotions.

“Jungkook.” Your soft voice draws his gaze down to your face. Seeing the swelling around your eye makes him want to turn around and finish what Yoongi was starting. Jungkook isn’t violent, but he could level the entire city right now if he weren’t so focused on getting you checked out. You bring a hand up and lightly trace the break in his lip. “What happened?”

“Raiden and Demetrius. I think this was their plan all along. One minute, Father and I were talking to the council while we waited, and the next, Raiden and Demetrius, along with a half dozen of their pack, came bursting into the theatre and attacked us.” Jungkook sighs, shaking his head. “I felt you, I felt the…” the trails off, not wanting to voice those feelings aloud. The pure terror he felt through his mate connection to you. The tie between the two of you has never really been an open street, he’s never been able to feel your emotions so viscerally before. It was almost enough to take him to his knees. If he didn’t need to fight off a pack of rabid alphas, it nearly might have. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook rasps.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. We knew they were up to no good. I should have been more vigilant or, at least, taken you up on your offer to escort me to the restroom.” You try to laugh, but it turns into a groan as your head pounds.

“Let’s get you to the hospital so they can check you over.”

No amount of protests from you will deter Jungkook from getting you to a doctor. Junghyun texts him shortly after he places you in the backseat of the SUV, letting Jungkook know that everyone else is on their way to the hospital and an ambulance is en route to get their mother but that the betas are hopeful.

Several hours later, you’ve been released from the hospital with confirmation of no lasting damage, just a recommendation to get some rest. Jungkook’s lip is patched with a butterfly stitch, per your insistence, and it itches as he sits on the edge of the bed in the hotel room he booked before leaving the hospital. Even though you aren’t concussed or anything, Jungkook didn’t want to risk taking you all the way back to pack lands.

Besides, his mother was admitted and is still there for observation, and he doesn’t feel comfortable being too far away while she’s in recovery. She went in for surgery immediately upon arrival and woke up not too long ago. Junghyun and their father are staying at the hospital with her until she’s cleared to go home, which will hopefully not be more than a few days. Apparently, her wounds looked worse than they were, and she was fortunate Kiel didn’t get her an inch further to either side. Otherwise, it might be a very different outcome.

Jimin texted him a bit ago, letting him know the entire Barton pack is being detained at the local precinct, and the authorities are awaiting word from Jungkook about charges. The council sequestered themselves behind closed doors, but the duel was considered null due to the circumstances. Jimin feels bad about being part of the ruse, even if he was just being used as a means to get close to the Jeon pack.

It’s come to light that the Bartons decided to use their feud with the Parks because they knew the Jeons wouldn’t sit idly by. One big, elaborate plan, all to get close to Jungkook’s Luna and try to tear down the hierarchy. If Jungkook lost his Soulmate, he’d lose his foundation of power as well. Or so, that’s what the buzz was when some of the Barton betas were interrogated, according to Jimin.

Jungkook knows everything is going to be okay, that you’re going to be okay; the doctor told him as much. But, despite that assurance, he can’t seem to relax. You’re curled up in the bed, facing him, and you look so peaceful, even with the swelling on the side of your face, but all he can feel is rage when he sees that…rage and so much guilt.

He never should have let you go to the restroom on your own. If he has his way, he’s never going to let you out of his sight again. It’s such an alarming realization, going from one polar sensation to the next. The fact he could give two shits less about you just a few months ago, and now here he is wanting to murder someone for touching you, is hard to wrap his head around.

Yet, here he is, fisting the edge of one of the blankets as he battles this feeling inside himself. The fact his alpha has been mostly silent since Jungkook laid eyes on you in that hallway is just as alarming. It’s almost like his alpha is giving him space. For the first time since coming into his designation, he feels like a giant void separates him from his alpha; he doesn’t like it.

There’s also the pile of papers sitting on the desk, a few feet away, that hold another key bit of information that won’t let him relax. It was standard testing, just something to help rule other things out and see what kinds of tests they could and could not perform to assess your head.

You’re pregnant.

Now that he knows, Jungkook can tell. There is a distinct, underlying change to your scent. It’s sweeter somehow, more alluring in the sense that you now smell partly like him. He should have known before. He knows that if he hadn’t spent so much time away from you, he would have realized it sooner.

You were surprised, but your shock seemed more subdued. When questioned, you told Jungkook what his mother had said to you. Somehow, even his mother knew before he did. Jungkook feels like a failure, like he’s done nothing right by you. It had to have happened the night of your designation celebration. Neither of you had bothered with any preventative measures that night, too lost in the touch and feel of each other to care.

And now, here you are, pregnant without a bite on your neck and a knot on the side of your head. If anything were to have happened to the baby…Jungkook isn’t sure he can even think about that right now. Not without wanting to put his fist through the wall.

He’s spent weeks worried about staying away from you when all along, he was clearly concerned about all the wrong things. The doctor assured him that even the most attentive of alphas take several weeks before they can smell their own child in the womb. But that doesn’t make Jungkook feel any better.

He thinks back on all the curt and what he thought were nagging messages he had gotten from his mother the last few weeks and can see them in a different light now. She wasn’t just trying to chastise him about his duty; she was trying to coax him home so he could be there for his mate in a way he should have from the start.

Jungkook knows what he needs to do now. There is no question about it. Though, it’s not because he feels obligated…no, he truly wants to solidify that bond with you. As soon as you’re ready, he’s going to offer himself to you, finally and fully.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” your sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and makes him release his tight hold on the sheets.

Your eyes look so big and bright even in the dim light of the hotel room as you sleepily blink up at him. How he never wanted to give himself over to you so completely before now marks him as a sure fool.

He sighs, exhaling a slow breath. “Yeah. How are you feeling?”

You stretch, wincing only slightly as your arm brushes along the side of your face. “Better, I think.”

“Can we talk?” he asks after a pause of silence.

You give him a guarded look as you slowly sit up and gather some of the blankets in your lap. The doctor told him you might start feeling the need to nest and gather comfort items, so he had specifically requested the Omega suite, which comes with complimentary brand-new fuzzy blankets and extra pillows that guests are allowed to take home when checking out.

“Sure,” you finally say.

Jungkook watches as emotions cross your face, echoing the pulse he can feel emanating from his chest. His alpha perks up, rousing for the first time in hours it feels like.

“Okay.” Now that he’s been given the go-ahead to talk, he’s suddenly feeling very self-conscious and uncertain. “I know you told me I don’t need to apologize, but I’m going to anyway.” Your lips form a thin line when he says that, so he hurries to continue, “Not for”—he gestures vaguely in your direction—”but for everything else. I want to apologize for everything before this. The way I’ve treated you and how I’ve acted. You’ve deserved better than what I’ve offered you these last few weeks—for being an asshole and a fucking dick,” Jungkook uses your own choice of words for him, and that earns him a small smile from you.

“I want to apologize, too, then. And before you can protest”—Jungkook was 100% about to—”just let me finish. Sure, you’ve not been the greatest the last few weeks, but I know I haven’t either. I should have tried harder, fought you on you being gone all the time, stood up for what I wan–er, needed, and been honest with how it was making me feel.”

Jungkook shakes his head, unable to believe how you’ve yet again turned the tables on him. “I, uh, there’s something that…there’s something I want to do,” Jungkook barely manages to get the words out as anxiety spikes at the prospect of you refusing.

“What is it?”

The look of intrigue on your face turns into pure shock as Jungkook prostrates himself on the bed in front of you, deliberately turning his head to expose the side of his neck to you, an act of submission. “I’m giving myself to you, wholly and completely. All those weeks ago, I claimed you and made you mine, and…now I’m yours.”

🌙🌙🌙

You stare at Jungkook, not sure what to say. “I-I don’t need,” you begin, reaching for Jungkook and encouraging him to sit up, “you to do that. You don’t have to bend to me…as long as you promise never to make me bend to you either.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll never force you to be something that you’re not ever again. I’m sorry I didn’t realize this sooner, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you asked to come with me to Jimin’s. From now on, I’ll listen to you, and I’ll not dismiss your concerns or voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re beneath me simply because you’re my mate. I want you as my equal instead.”

The truth behind Jungkook’s words is evident in the fervent way he delivers them but also in the way your omega mews in satisfaction. A bite for a bite, an equal. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving a permanent mark on his neck like he will on yours, it’s still the intention, and it’s completely unheard of in your world. There are stories, myths, really…but nothing wholly substantial.

You shift on the bed, gathering your knees underneath you. Your jeans went into the trash, and all the hospital had was a thin pair of shorts and a t-shirt for you to wear. You fluff out the blankets absently as you mull over his words. “Your equal?”

“Yes,” Jungkook resolutely declares.

“I think I would like that,” you whisper, eyeing Jungkook’s mouth with a quickly burning hunger.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, swallowing hard as you lean in closer to him. “If you need more time to think, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you counter, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Jungkook responds by kissing you hard on the mouth, wrapping his arms around you, and dragging you against his chest. He tastes like home; his tongue is warm and wet against yours, and you’re certain you could drown in the sensation if he let you. But, he comes up for air, breaking the kiss for a moment before pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

Even with the aches in your face and body, you respond to him. With every teasing nip of his mouth, you feel yourself growing wet. The fragrant cream of your slick blooms in the air, melding with his masculine and spicy scent to create the perfect, heady bouquet.

“I’ve never been more sure about something,” Jungkook whispers the affirmation between kisses until his warm breath ghosts over the scent mark on your neck. “You smell so damn good,” he groans.

You can feel his lips part over the skin there; his tongue laves out and swipes up the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. With trembling hands, you help each other discard your clothing, finally coming back together skin to skin. Jungkook pulls you into his lap, his thick cock sitting snugly against your ass. You can feel the bulge of his knot already as if his body is automatically responding to just your closeness.

“You can say stop at any time,” you tell him, earning a surprised grunt when you shove him back against the pillows and deliberately slide your ass slowly over his cock as you move backward.

There is a challenge in his eyes as you meet them. You move until you’re kneeling between his knees, cock sitting prettily before you. “Where, ah,” Jungkook sucks in a stilted breath when you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, “did you want to?” Pink tinges Jungkook’s ears as he looks down at you, mouth full of him. You tap the inside of his thigh and raise your brows in silent question. “O-okay, just…just be gentle.”

That makes you chuckle, the vibration coming up your throat, and you can tell it sends a shock through Jungkook; his head drops back, and his mouth opens with a loud moan. “Gentle says the man about to put a permanent bite on my neck. An act that is none too gentle, I might add,” you say, letting his cock slip out from between your lips.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he relents, his words breathy as you trace along the underside of his dick with your tongue. “Be as aggressive as you want, then.”

Feeling egged on just a little by that declaration, you plant your teeth firmly into the meat of his inner thigh and bite as hard as you dare. Your teeth pinprick his skin, and the metallic tang of blood leeches onto your tongue. Jungkook grunts; his whole body shivers against your mouth.

“Was that okay?” you ask tentatively once you’ve pulled back to admire the twin crescent impressions you left behind. There isn’t that much blood. The two small wounds from your teeth are already clotted.

Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale as his body finally relaxes back against the bed. His cock twitches beside your face, producing a thick string of pre-cum that has your mouth watering for a taste.

“That was,” he pants, “hot as fuck.”

Pride fills you, and your body kindly reminds you with an intense throb in your clit, how much it turns you on when Jungkook talks like that. “Your turn,” you urge, desperate to get his teeth on your skin and his cock in your pussy.

Jungkook growls his approval, letting his alpha strength take over, and maneuvers you easily into a kneeling position in front of him. Using a gentle hand in your hair, he pulls you up until your back is pressed against his chest, giving him unfettered access to the front of your body while being able to tease your clit with the tip of his length.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, using the hand in your hair to angle your head sideways so he can lick along the side of your neck. “Let’s see.” His other hand slides down the front of your body, tweaking your nipples on the way, until his middle finger grazes over your swollen, aching clit.

“Don’t tease me,” you say between clenched teeth. Your omega adds her indignation to your own, making your words come out laced with additional grit.

“I just want a little taste,” Jungkook whispers as he hooks his finger lower and massages it along your slit, collecting a generous amount of slick as he does so. You watch as his finger comes up and disappears beside your face.

The wet laving sound of Jungkook sucking his finger sends a shudder through you. You reach down with your hands, cupping Jungkook’s cock in one and using the other to part the lips of your pussy so you can fit him against your entrance. “Fuuuck,” you drawl out as the broad head of his cock slides in.

“I love the way your pussy tastes,” Jungkook moans, dropping his hand to your hip and using it to guide your ass back against him, forcing him deeper. “It’s almost as good as how it feels.”

His fingers prod along your hip, sliding until his palm rests over your lower belly. You whimper, rocking your hips the best you can, and place your hand over his. “How do I look?” you ask. “You once told me I’d look so pretty once I was pregnant with your pup. Do you still think that?”

“You are,” he starts, “the single most”—he emphasizes the words with long, rolling strokes of his cock that have his knot kissing your lower lips with every forward motion—”beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Even before I fucked you raw and knocked you up.” The beautiful, endearing words contrast so wildly with the dirty confession he tacks on at the end. Proving once again that Jungkook knows exactly how to wind you up and have you begging for more.

“Prove it,” you goade, intentionally dipping your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.

The moment his teeth touch your skin, you both freeze. It lasts only a second, the time it takes for them to sink into the tender expanse of your scent gland. It’s like a double punch to the gut; you can feel it all the way in your soul. The bond snaps into place the same instant Jungkook fits his knot inside you, and you explode, disintegrating into a million tiny little points of pleasure.

Your body opens for him, both physically and mentally. What was once a small trickle of feeling now becomes a deluge of intensity. You’re vaguely aware of Jungkook groaning as he meets his own release, throbbing heavily within your walls. You can feel him beneath your skin, feel the way your own body is wrapped so tightly around his knot, and the infinite pleasure that’s flooding through both of your systems.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungkook mumbles against your neck, his teeth finally pulling free from your skin. “I can feel everything.”

It’s hard to tell where he begins, and you end. There is a sense of middling permanence, the perfect balance between alpha and omega. You once feared that submitting to him completely would change you in some cataclysmic way. And, it has…only, you don’t feel damned. In fact, it’s far more empowering than you ever thought possible.

Jungkook brushes his tongue along the fresh bite, tending to your wound in a tender way that has you slumping over. He follows you down, gently rutting his hips, which forces his knot to rub and grate inside of you, flooding you with another luscious rush of dopamine, like a second orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you ask, trying not to fall asleep as he continues to nuzzle your neck, and his knot keeps you secured so close to his warm body.

“Hmm?” he hums. Jungkook settles you both on your side, holding you against his chest with one hand and stroking and petting with soft, sensual strokes along every inch of your body that he can reach with the other.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I promise never to make you doubt me ever again. You are my soulmate, my Luna…the mother of my child. You are my everything.”

And just as Jungkook said, he made you his, and now he’s yours. Forever.

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#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts smut #bts non idol au #bts abo #jungkook abo #alpha jungkook #omega reader #abo smut #bts knotting #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts enemies to lovers #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook smut #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven

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hispg · 5 months

Text

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.9k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Chapter 3: Coldening

The orange leaves falling on your balcony, the cold autumn wind signaling the end of the season. You could already see that most of the trees had lost their leaves.

What's more, most people were no longer going out without any kind of warmth, the chill that seemed to warn of a harsh winter approaching.

But the weather outside wasn't the only thing that was getting cold.

As you walked through the castle corridors, you rubbed your hands together to keep warm on that cold afternoon. Even if you were covered.

At least if you had someone to warm you up, you wouldn't need much.

However, you couldn't help but notice Leon's presence at the end of the corridor.

He was just staring out of the window, arms crossed and a furrowed brow, as usual. At first you had no plans to approach him and try to strike up some kind of conversation, perhaps because you were still closed off and tending to your recent hurt.

In fact, things had become even more distant between you. Since the last incident, you only met for breakfast and dinner respectively, not even at lunchtime, since Leon avoided you like the plague.

As a result, you simply interpreted that he didn't want to have any kind of conversation with you, and even you got used to the distance that was forming. Perhaps it would be better this way, each in their own space, to avoid so many problems.

However, what you least expected was to hear his voice calling you, almost in a whisper, "Can I talk to you?"

For a moment you stopped in your tracks, looking down and thinking for a moment. You couldn't just say no, that would be rude, but was it time to talk to him?

You didn't have time to consider any of this, as just then you felt his warm hand being placed gently on your shoulder, as if he wanted you to notice his presence, maybe to get your attention if only for a minute.

"Excuse me, Prince, I was a little lost in my thoughts." You say softly, turning your face towards him.

The same sweet, gentle smile was there, even though it was fake, you were incredibly convincing.

"Did something happen?" He asks in a sincere whisper, looking at you with a calm expression.

And for a brief moment you let yourself believe that he cared, even if it was far from reality.

"No, nothing. Just nervous, the wedding is next week." You say, yet the wedding was the least of your worries.

He looks you up and down, narrowing his eyes as if he doesn't believe a word you say.

Not least because he knew why you'd been so upset recently, he was the reason all this was happening.

"I see. Would you mind accompanying me?" He says calmly, offering you his arm.

Which, by the way, you politely declined, putting both your hands down the front of your dress. You made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be that close.

Maybe it was wrong, but you couldn't act as if nothing had happened.

So he got the message, even if he was a little disappointed. He started walking towards the courtyard, hoping that you would accompany him.

And so you did, not making much of a point of starting any kind of conversation or anything like that. You just kept quiet and followed him, willing to listen to whatever he had to say.

You noticed his gaze on you, an almost guilty look, if you didn't know him, you could have sworn there was a hint of regret in his gaze.

But you knew it was just another insignificant justification.

The only sound was the rustling breeze, the wind that cut through the air and made you shiver. Along with the sound of dry leaves crunching with every step you both took.

"You refused my flowers." He whispered, calm as ever, yet you could sense a certain bitterness in his words.

You sighed, almost imperceptibly. How could you willingly accept it like that? As if nothing had happened, it seemed too hypocritical.

They were certainly the most expensive and beautiful flowers he could find, you had no doubt about that.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you the most expensive jewelry, the shiny necklaces that adorned your neck.

He couldn't buy your affection as he thought he could, or your silence and understanding. There was no money or jewel in the world that could make you understand and accept this situation.

"I'm sorry for the discourtesy, but I thought the flowers didn't go well in my room." You say simply, not bothering to look him in the eye.

It was obviously a lie, but you weren't going to be that blunt. Maybe he had a good excuse, right?

Deep down you knew it was just a foolish thought, because the truth was clearer than day.

"I see, I'll consider your opinion the next time I go to pick flowers." He says, the tone unmistakable from the distance between the two of you.

You nod, not paying much attention to his actual words. You knew it was a silent apology, but you still didn't know if you could accept it so easily.

Not least because it was a mistake of his that would be repeated, and you feared it would never stop.

Noticing your silence, he sighed. It was hard to admit that he missed hearing you jabbering with him, but at the end of the day it was an expected reaction on your part.

"I actually invited you here for another reason," He begins calmly, taking a seat on one of the benches in the courtyard.

You silently repeat the gesture, looking him in the eye and waiting for him to continue.

He lets out a quiet sigh, gently placing his hand on yours. A gesture that surprised you, to say the least.

Since when did he do this kind of thing with you?

"I need to go on a quick business trip, it'll last a few days. I just wanted to let you know." He mutters quietly, and genuinely doesn't seem happy with what he's just said.

You look at him a little puzzled, even suspicious. Why such a sudden trip? Just a few days before the wedding.

As if he had read your thoughts, he ran his thumb over the back of your covered hand, as if to reassure you of something.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be here until the wedding." The way he talked about the marriage in such a nonchalant way was enough to make you tense up a little.

Couldn't he at least pretend? Could he perhaps be less rude?

"I hope you're here, Your Highness." You said it slowly, and incredibly quietly, in a way that was a contrast to what you were feeling.

He noticed the way you narrowed your eyes, or even when you removed his hand from yours. Resting both your hands on your lap.

Then Leon nodded, correcting his sentence, "I'll be here. I wouldn't miss it."

And frankly, that didn't calm your heart one bit. What if he didn't show up? What if he decided to run away and just leave?

These were questions that plagued your mind, especially over the last few days. You couldn't imagine the embarrassment of this situation if it became real.

You already knew the ground you were standing on, and you were being very cautious not to let all this sink your future marriage even further.

"How many days will you be away?" You ask as you look at the bush of flowers.

The flowers that reminded you of so many things. Too bad most of those memories were negative.

"Probably four days at most. I don't want to spend too long away." He answered your question, his gaze not leaving yours for a single second.

It was as if he wanted to say more than he could, maybe he even regretted something. Or it could be something from your hopeful mind that was praying that this situation would somehow be reversed.

"And also, I wanted to talk to you about something else." He begins, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Tell me, something to do with the trip?" You ask quietly, turning to give the prince your attention.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone while I'm away. I understand that there are several servants in the castle, but I'd still prefer to remain attentive." His words were enough to make you frown, pursing your lips into a small pout.

"No need to worry, you know I'm in good hands here." And indeed that was it, it wasn't as if you were somewhere dangerous.

In fact, you found his sudden concern strange.

"Even so, a friend I trust will be spending a few days at the castle. Chris Redfield, I suppose you've heard of him." Leon says while still placing his hand against yours.

You nodded in response, remembering the much-talked-about Duke who had recently arrived at the castle.

You hadn't imagined that he was a close friend of Leon's or anything like that, so it was actually a surprise.

"I'd like to introduce him to you." Leon says as he stands up, expecting you to accompany him.

You did so without much reluctance, even eager to see the so-called Duke. The dark-haired man was there, at the main entrance, having a conversation with the King, they seemed quite close.

But their attention soon turned to you and Leon, the couple of the moment. And you pretended so well that the people around you believed it.

Leon's father patted him on the shoulder, while Chris looked you up and down.

He was handsome, tall, strong and shapely, undoubtedly very popular with the ladies.

"A pleasure to meet you, princess." Chris says, bowing and smiling at you.

"My pleasure." You say with a gentle, genuine smile, looking at the man in front of you with tenderness.

The brief moment was interrupted by a group of stewards who came to whisper to Leon about the journey, warning him that he would have to check the carriage, just to make sure it was up to his standards, and take care of a few other things that you didn't quite understand.

With that, the king left with Leon to sort out what had to be done, and he didn't even bother to say goodbye to you.

"If you don't mind, I can take you for a walk." Chris says with a cutting smile, making it almost impossible to say no.

And well, it wasn't as if you had much to do at the moment, so there was no reason to refuse.Not to mention that Chris saw how disconcerted you were.

"Of course, I'm flattered." You say with a sweet smile, walking slowly through the castle as he follows you.

You couldn't think of a nicer person to spend the afternoon with. The man had so much experience, you could talk about so many subjects with him, and yet he could dissect each one perfectly.

You even found common subjects, and before you knew it you had spent the whole afternoon together, in fact it was already evening.

If it were up to you, you'd be talking to him for hours on end, but you knew you had your own things to do, and so did he.

You couldn't complain about the company you'd have for the next few days, it would help you not to feel so alone.It was a real shame when you had to say goodbye, after all, it was time for you to go to your quarters.

"Thanks for the company." You said with a genuine smile, stopping in front of your bedroom door.

Chris smiled, bowing to you, "My pleasure."

You couldn't tell, but from his tone, he seemed to be someone so subdued and gentle. A perfect contrast to Leon's personality.

You keep smiling, preparing to say goodbye to him, "Good evening, Duke."

He then says gently, "Good evening, Princess."

You nod and turn to enter your room, smiling from ear to ear, happy to have had a calmer moment after the recent storms.

"Were you outside at that time?" It was the first thing you heard as soon as you closed the door.

It was enough to make you look around your room, and it didn't take long for you to frown slightly, trying your best to keep your composure.

"Yes, prince. I was with the Duke…" You said quietly, looking at him calmly, acting as if his tone hadn't affected you.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw a sneer forming at the corner of his lips, as he got up from your bed and walked over to you.

"Forgive the inconvenience, princess. However, I don't think it's appropriate for you to stay late in the courtyard…" He begins, looking you up and down as if he were analyzing you, making sure you were in one piece.

You nodded, you could even think and know where this conversation was going. And you'd give in, maybe he'd make some sense.

"I can't imagine why." You say, moving to your dresser, sitting down on the small stool to start removing your jewelry.

It was clear that you knew the reason, yet you wanted him to refresh your memory.

You heard his sigh, as well as his impatient expression as you looked in the mirror.

"You know, princess. It's not proper for a woman to be out and about after eight o'clock, even more so with a man who isn't her husband." Leon says, trying his best to maintain his usual calm and inexpressive appearance.

He was probably only doing it to keep up the appearance of the two of you, so as not to make the situation even worse. You knew it was nothing sentimental, far from jealousy.

He couldn't be jealous of someone he didn't like.

"I don't understand the problem." You said nonchalantly, removing the sparkling necklace that was illuminated by the serene light in the room.

"People will talk, princess." He retorts, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you.

From his point of view, he didn't mind if you had someone else in your life, it would even be better because he would be free. But there was a contract to fulfill, a farce to maintain. And he was mad if he chose to compromise it in such a way.

You just smiled, raising your eyebrows while still admiring yourself in the mirror, "People talk about so many things."

You knew you had been bold, and that you had even overstepped the mark. But the look on his face was priceless.

He knew what you were referring to, he knew perfectly well where your hint had been directed.

You watched his lips press together in irritation as he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't naive and understood the allusion in your words.

And that was all he needed to move closer to you, taking the opportunity to place his cold hand on your shoulder, as if to make you feel his presence, or even to remind you of why he was here.

"We shouldn't give way to unnecessary speculation." He says seriously, putting both hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror.

You'd be lying if you said his touch didn't send shivers down your spine, making you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

As well as the gasp you couldn't contain as soon as you felt his lips on your ear, his warm breath against your skin, unconsciously making you clutch the fabric of your dress tightly.

"We should avoid misunderstandings. You know…" He whispers, making a point of keeping his piercing blue eyes on you.

He knew the power he had over you, and wouldn't hesitate to use a little manipulation to keep you under control.

You turned your face towards him, getting so close that your lips were almost touching, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against yours.

If you looked closely, you could see that the distance in his gaze had gone, and deep down there was a new expression in those eyes that were so cold.

Sympathy? Inquisitiveness? Apprehension?

You couldn't say for sure, but it was something new. You risked saying that maybe, just maybe, he was seeing you differently.

It was a low blow on his part, but he had you at his mercy, and he was willing to use that to his advantage.

"Avoiding misunderstandings…" You murmured, not failing to look him in the eye for a second.

The closeness was enough to make you feel butterflies in your stomach, to make your breathing quicken without the slightest intention.

"Yes, dear." The nickname that rolled off his lips so naturally that you believed the tenderness in his voice.

He moved away from you with a calculated elegance, looking at your features through the mirror. He knew he had won this time.

You sighed discreetly, straightening your posture as you stared at him.

God, how could he have such an effect on you?

He knew you'd gotten the message, he knew he'd made it perfectly clear what he wanted. It didn't take long for him to realize that his words had already been absorbed by you, and he wasn't going to repeat them.

"I wish you a good night, Your Highness." He says with a brief, sideways smile, then leaves your room.

You stare at the closed door, feeling your heart flutter in such a way.

Did he really think of you like that?

Dear… That's what he called you.

Oh, heavens. How you'd beg just to hear him call you 'my dear'.

Just once more.

It couldn't hurt, could it?

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