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#this isn't finished at all but I can't see myself finishing it up any time soon so. here ya go.
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who's flying this plane?
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Big brother drugs you but doesn't giving you enough so you wake up in the middle and start trying to push him off.
'Hey, shhhh. It's okay don't fight it. I'm sorry I can't stop myself any longer I just had to.'
Big brother reaches down and holds your face in his hand. 'I know you wanna be good for me just let big brother finish his fun with you okay?'
you sniffle and rub your face against his hand. 'but it hurts big bro.' you say tears falling down your cheek.
He leans down and licks the tears off your cheeks. 'I know angel. Trust your big bro and be good for me and it'll all be over soon.'
He starts to push deeper inside you. You start to sob softly, making your hole clench around your big bro's cock. He groans loudly and thrusts the rest of the way into your tiny hole. You cry out but big brother starts kissing you to silence you.
'Fuck your cunt was made for me to rape. Angel you're so tight around my cock. I'm sorry but I can't control myself. But fuck you're being such a good kid for me.'
'Please you're too big. It feels like you're ripping me apart. I promise won't upset you again.' you burrow your head into your brothers neck.
'Oh this isn't a punishment, here let me help you feel good too.'
Big brother reaches down in-between you two and starts touching you. You moan out and for the first time something feels good. You relax and big bro's cock doesn't hurt anymore.
'That's it see how good it feels when you just relax. Big brother always knows what's best for you.'
Your brother fucks you faster while playing with your kiddo parts. You're body starts to feel funny and your little hole keeps tightening around your brother's cock.
'I feel funny.' You said.
'Just relax and let it happen. Cum from your big brother raping you.'
You do as he says you cum on his cock. He's not far behind you fill up your little hole with his cum. He kisses you before pulling out.
'Come now little one let's get you cleaned up.'
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awearywritersworld · 4 months
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the day of my execution
sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist
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truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.
"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."
"we need to talk."
sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"
"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.
"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."
"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."
yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?
"no one else would be so brazen."
it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.
"i should call gojo—"
"that is out of the question."
"do you want to keep her safe or not?"
sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."
yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."
"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."
yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."
before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.
that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.
once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."
"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"
though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.
"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."
gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."
"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."
"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"
"almost anybody—"
"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."
"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."
"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."
gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.
"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."
"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"
"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."
sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.
but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.
for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.
and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.
"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.
"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."
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sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.
he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.
"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.
"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."
crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."
"it's fine. it's only a little glass."
when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"
"i don't make a habit of it."
"i know. the question was rhetorical."
sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.
"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.
he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.
and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.
but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.
it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.
so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.
reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."
"what.. what is it?"
he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"
you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."
you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.
strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.
"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"
"sure of what?"
"that i should have it."
he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.
he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"
"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."
sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."
his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.
moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."
and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?
"but promise me something anyway."
"anything," you say without delay.
he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.
"promise you won't ever take it off."
you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.
you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.
"say it."
"i promise."
he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."
it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.
it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.
"i... i don't know what to say."
"well, that's a first."
"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."
"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"
you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."
he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."
you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.
he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.
you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.
although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.
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it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.
his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.
now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.
but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.
he has to get back to you after all.
the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:
for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.
in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.
and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.
however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.
the very thought makes him sick with grief.
looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.
he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.
so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.
opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.
your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.
you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.
"you're back," you rasp.
"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.
you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."
"charming."
you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.
you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."
he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."
recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."
"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."
"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"
he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."
he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."
you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.
he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.
"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."
"what?" you ask sleepily.
"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."
"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."
"i'll hold you to that."
and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.
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a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3
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wilwheaton · 28 days
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what are your hobbies?
I have a garden that I love to work in every day.
During the lockdowns, I learned the difference between having a garden, and tending a garden. It turns out that I just love to tend my garden. I love to walk in it, smell all the smells, prune it and tie it up where it needs it, keep the soil healthy, and leave it alone when I've done enough.
In a lot of ways, I use my gardening time as a metaphor. One that was particularly meaningful to me lately came when I was pruning this feral tomato that showed up in one of my beds late last year. As a general rule, when I get any volunteers, I leave them alone, except to keep them away from things I've planted myself. But in this case, it was growing so fast and getting so out of control, I had to rein it in a bit, with some pruning and gentle redirection of the parts which were tied to the trellis.
I started thinking about the individual stalks as parts of my life experience: here's one that doesn't have anything growing on it, but if I follow it all the way to this point, I can see that it's providing support and nutrients to this huge, thriving, massively flowering hunk of the plant. It turns out that part may look like it isn't doing anything, but without it, this other part that's gorgeous wouldn't exist.
I could have just looked at it and seen a stalk that wasn't doing anything. I could have easily pruned it right then and there, and only after would I have discovered this lush, thriving, beautiful part of the plant that can't exist without this other part. I was so grateful that I took the time to look at the whole thing, to see that bare stem in context, to appreciate it.
I don't know if this particular metaphor lands on you, but it landed real hard on me. It inspired a wonderful moment of reflection and gratitude, and I also got excited for the ... I mean, it's at least a dozen, but maybe more ... little cherry tomatoes I'm going to get when they finish ripening.
I have recently noticed that, as long as I can remember, I have felt like I can't slow down, like I can't take time for myself, that I should always be working or trying to work. I've been working on healing as much of my CPTSD as I can, and part of that includes doing my best to give myself permission to slow down, to take entire days or even weeks off, because I have earned it. It's such a struggle for me.
And that's where my garden is a metaphor again: it may not be full of blooming flowers or tons of vegetables right now, but that doesn't mean it isn't growing. Maybe it needs to be watered and fed today, and tomorrow, I can just walk through it, and enjoy it.
It's one of my very few hobbies that are mostly private, that I keep for myself. I freely and enthusiastically share my love for classic arcade gaming, Tabletop and RPG games, and all my super nerd shit, so I like that I have this one thing that's just for me.
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4ngel-inc · 2 months
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࿔*:・ BUNGO STRAY DOGS — WITH A VERY TALKATIVE S/O ࿐
notes / warnings — fem reader, pet names, just fluff !! ᰔ i am 10000% calling myself out wahhh i talk so much :')
DAZAI loves attention, so naturally, he loves when you talk to him. you could talk about anything, really—the yummy breakfast you cooked for yourself that morning, the weather, your favorite book—it's all music to his ears. he also loves when you ask him questions about himself, like how his day went or what's new at work. if you reach over while you two are relaxing and gently stroke his cheek, asking what's on his mind, his heart melts into a little puddle. you really want to know what's running around in his head? most people wouldn't dare—though his thoughts have grown far brighter in the time he's known you, he's still surprised you're interested. dazai also loves when you ramble on about things—he just thinks you're so gorgeous when your expression lights up from something you're passionate about, eyes sparkling as you go on and on.
CHUUYA loves how excited you get about small things—it makes his day much brighter to hear the tone of your voice when you're hyped up about something! you're just so damn adorable—he wishes he could see the light in everything like you do. if you're shopping and see a pretty necklace in the store window, he'll let you go on and on about it for half an hour, about how you wish you could afford it, even though he knows he's going to return later and buy it for you. he just loves the sound of your voice, even on nights when he can't keep his eyes open after work, his head resting on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, he convinces you to keep talking. "chu, you're not even listening, you're sleeping!" you laugh. "nuh-uh, pretty girl. 'm still awake, just keep talkin', makes me happy."
FUKUZAWA honestly, takes a while to get used to how much you talk, though he doesn't particularly dislike it. as someone who appreciates silence and tranquility, it's difficult for him to understand why you're so eager to talk about random things when the unspoken silence between the two of you is so valuable to him already—however, over time, he comes to realize it's part of your love language. you love him so much, of course you'd like to know how his day went, how he's feeling, if he liked what you made for dinner. you're always so excited to see him, practically talking his ear off the second he walks through the door, and after a while, he comes to appreciate how nurturing and doting you are. after a few years together, he simply can't imagine his life being any different—your voice is his greatest source of comfort during hard times.
SIGMA absolutely adores how talkative you are, he's so flattered you want to talk to him! your relationship makes him feel lighter and more playful, and after a while, he realizes you've taught him so much about how to enjoy the little things in life. he absolutely loves watching your eyes light up and hearing you rave when you try new food, when the snow falls, when you try your hand at a new cookie recipe for him that turns out to be so delicious. he could listen to your voice forever, but his favorite thing to talk about is how you're feeling. sigma is a true gentleman, always ensuring you're happy and asking what he can do to make you feel more loved. although he usually prefers most of the attention to be on you, he feels so special when you ask him how his day went or if he finished that one stressful project at work. overall, your voice simply gives him butterflies every time he hears it, no matter how long you've been together.
AKUTAGAWA actually really appreciates how much you talk, since he isn't often a man of many words. he's the quiet, stoic type—and the stark contrast between his reserved nature and your more outgoing, bubbly one is what makes you meld so well together. similar to chuuya, akutagawa loves hearing your voice when he's tired—in particular, if he's had an especially exhausting day at work or when he's been haunted by thoughts of his past lately, your voice soothes him, gently nudging all pessimistic thoughts out of his mind. after listening to you talk about your day for a few minutes, he can't even remember what was bringing him down to begin with. in general, the sound of your voice and an occasional kiss to his hand are enough to keep him content—if anything, he's grateful he is the one who gets to listen to you talk every day, your voice is his favorite sound.
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yesimwriting · 6 months
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okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol
A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭
also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy
ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol
----
Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.
The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.
For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.
Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.
You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.
His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.
You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"
The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.
"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."
The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.
A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.
"Analyzing?"
You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."
"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."
You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.
Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.
"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.
If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.
Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.
He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.
Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.
"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."
Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.
Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.
At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.
But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.
"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."
He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."
You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."
Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.
"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."
You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."
He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.
Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."
You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.
"I have an early class."
You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.
Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.
He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."
The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.
"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."
His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.
You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."
He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."
You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."
Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.
You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.
The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.
It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.
He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.
"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.
Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."
The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.
Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."
He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"
Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.
He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.
Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.
"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.
It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."
You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."
Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.
"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.
The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."
So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.
"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."
The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."
Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"
"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."
He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."
The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."
You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."
"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."
"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.
He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."
"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."
Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."
You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."
He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."
You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.
Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"
"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."
You immediately grin, "Really?"
He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."
You beam. "I'd really like that."
"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."
Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.
"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."
Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."
He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."
Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."
He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.
Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.
This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.
Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.
For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.
"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.
Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."
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webslingingslasher · 6 months
Note
I know we’re all obsessed with frat!peter, but are there any instances where nerdy!peter gets a lil mean too?
for the first time ever, peter is ignoring your call. there are times he's unable to answer, but you know he's purposely watching his phone ring before he silences it.
he's actively ignoring you and you want to scream.
peter doesn't get mad at you. but he is. and it's making everything worse. you can't apologize if he won't talk to you.
it's been two days.
'if you don't call me back in an hour i'm coming over.'
'and yes, that's a threat.'
peter must be really mad. because he didn't answer.
'hi, is peter around?' you can tell may wants to shout the truth, instead she shows solidarity to her nephew. 'sorry, honey. he's out right now.'
you challenge her, 'can i wait for him?' may isn't playing your games, 'he didn't say when he'd be back.'
it's not may's fault, but you still huff at her. 'he has to talk to me at some point.' you see a flush of parent coat over her features.
'sometimes when someone is hurt, they need to think about how to react to it before it gets worse.'
you feel like crying, 'is he really that mad at me?' may slowly closes the door, 'i'm sorry, but peter isn't home.' you want to catch the door and bark out to peter, who you know is holed up in his room, but you respect his space and leave.
it was all your fault. you pushed his harshest barrier and you swear you didn't mean to, it was just the most hurtful thing you could spit out in a moment of fury.
instant regret. you swore you heard peter's heart break the second you finished. his crushing silence hurt more than an equal blow. he just calmly grabbed his backpack and left. and you let him, you were speechless, you couldn't believe the things that came out of your mouth.
you retreat with a few texts.
'i'm sorry, peter. i really, really am.'
'i won't keep bothering you, just talk to me when you're ready.'
'i love you. and i know you love me too, so you don't have to say it back tonight.'
and he doesn't. not when you check before bed and not when you wake the next morning. you've never felt peter's cold shoulder before, but it's icy and stings.
you'd see him on campus and he couldn't ignore you in person, right?
there was only one way to tell, and it was when you saw him sitting at an outside table. scribbling in a notebook while he looked over a textbook and some sheets, he never looked so pretty.
it's selfish, but you want nothing more than to kiss him.
'hi.' sitting backwards, your back hit the edge of the table. if he tells you to fuck off you'll make a quick escape. looking at his side profile he shows no reaction, he was expecting you to join him.
'hi.' peter doesn't share the interest to look at you.
'wanna talk?' you hold your breath, hopeful he'd say yes and you could do your best attempt at damage control.
'not really,' his calm nature unsettles you. you'd rather he spit in your face.
'can i talk?' peter didn't want to talk, but he might listen. you just wanted to make it okay, or try.
you think he agrees just to get you to leave quicker. 'sure.'
anxiety scratches your insides, you've never been so ashamed in your life. it was an odd feeling wanting to do nothing but hold peter close to you while you apologize, while also knowing he wanted nothing to do with your touch.
'i'm sorry. i've never been more sorry for anything in my entire life and i don't know how to make it right. i would do anything to take it back, if i could go back in time to stop myself i would.'
it's unfair, but the reality of the situation hits. tears prickle at your eyes. you just feel so bad.
'i don't know why i said that, and i regretted it the second it left my mouth. i could try to come up with a million excuses, but i said it and i'm taking accountability. i know it doesn't help, but, like...'
you close your eyes, when you open them a tear races down your cheek. you're quick to wipe it. it's not about you.
'i am really fucking disgusted in myself. i'm ashamed and embarrassed and i know i broke your heart. peter, i... i took the darkest part of you and weaponized it. i broke your trust and i am a really, really, really bad girlfriend.'
you deserved the silence. 'you're mad at me and that's fair. i can't say it enough, but i want you to know i'm sorry.'
the last sentence caught his attention, peter shakes his head and laughs under his breath.
'you see, the thing is, i don't think i'm mad. i'm just really fucking hurt. you told me ben was just waiting on someone to put him out of his misery.'
you wince. it sounded so much worse coming from his mouth, it was like the words burnt him and left a bad taste behind. they were seared into his brain. there was nothing in the world to justify what you did.
'you were right. you broke my heart and trust in one go. how do you fix it? i don't know, but i can't even look at you right now. talking to you feels like i'm pulling glass out of my skin.'
'i'm glad you're disgusted with yourself, because i am too.'
there was the blow. it wasn't half as harsh as yours, but it dug deep. you couldn't blame him either. it's entirely too selfish, but you need to know if there's something to work for.
'are you going to break up with me?' you sound sad but you wouldn't blame him if he said yes, you would only blame yourself forever. you don't like how long the silence was, it felt like he was actually thinking about it.
'i don't know.'
three words made you feel empty. the future of your relationship and happiness was a gamble all because you couldn't shut your mouth.
'okay.' it wasn't. 'i know it seems pointless now, because i already failed at it, but i'll never say anything like that ever again. i never, ever wanted to hurt you like this.'
for the first time in three days, peter looks at you. he looks tired.
'you did. that's why you said it. you were mad and i wasn't feeding into it, you got even more upset and said the most hurtful thing you could've to me.'
you're desperate, 'i know! but i swear it wasn't on purpose! i didn't know what i was saying until i said it, and i mean, c'mon peter, you know me. i've never said anything like that before, and i won't ever again.'
peter throws you a bone, maybe he really heard the desperation in your voice. 'i know you're sorry, i know you feel terrible and you wish you could take it back. but that doesn't make it okay. and i need you to understand that.'
you nod quick, 'i do! i understand, i promise.'
peter sees it differently. 'i don't think you do. if you did, you wouldn't be here begging for me to say everything's okay.'
his words make you pause, you see his stance in a different light. your apologies have done nothing but make peter feel like he has to accept them. may said he needed space and you haven't given him any, instead hounding him with texts or forcing him to listen to the same string of sorry's.
you stand, it's very clear to you what needs to happen. if you have any chance of reconciliation. you need to cut contact.
'you're right. i didn't see it like that, but you're right. the second i walk away, i promise i'm done. no more texts, no more surprise visits, no more bothering you on campus. nothing. you come to me when you're ready. no matter the conversation.'
you follow your word and do just that while trying to ignore the worst form of anxiety that crosses over your chest. walking away, unsure if your boyfriend still loved you, was a feeling you wouldn't wish on anyone.
it spreads the longer you hear nothing from peter. was he adjusting to life outside you? should you be doing the same? you didn't realize how much you wrapped peter into your life until he wasn't around.
you had to find a classmate to do revisions with. you had to plan lunch with friends instead of peter. you had to scroll past articles and memes he'd enjoy. you had to stop yourself from texting him a hundred times a day.
the closest you got was a glimpse at his face when he was talking to a friend across campus, he was laughing. you felt relieved knowing he was happy, until you noticed it didn't seem like he missed you all that much.
after four days and all hope lost, you decided it was time to wave the white flag. it was over, if you grieve the relationship now it won't be so bad when he tells you officially. you'd be able to walk away without a panic attack.
while wallowing to yourself in your room, you berate yourself internally for ruining the one true good thing you had. spider-man was entirely too calm when he entered your room right as you felt a tear race down your cheek.
'why are we crying?'
you sit up, you've never been so happy to see the masked hero. until you piece together why he's there, you weren't pre-maturely crying after all.
sniffles around your words, 'cause we broke up.'
the mask is off in a second, 'who said that?' you shrug, the answer is in front of your face. 'isn't it obvious?' peter sits next to you, 'we're not broken up.'
you still don't feel comfortable, 'are we going to be?' peter rewords himself, 'i'm not here to break up with you, no.' 
‘then why are you here?’
peter exhales deeply, a tired excuse of a laugh. ‘i can be upset with my girlfriend and miss her at the same time.’ for just a second, you brighten. ‘you miss me?’
‘yeah. of course i do.’ you almost explode when peter pats your knee, ‘you’re my best friend.’ it’s enough to make you want to cry. you fall into him, an awkward hug, he doesn’t say anything.
‘you’re my best friend too. i missed you so much, i’m so, so, so sorry, peter.’ you melt when a gloved hand rubs your back, it’s not even his skin but you’ve missed his touch so much it’s enough to settle you.
‘it’s okay.’
the words you’ve been looking for, your heart soars. digging your fingertips into his shoulder blades, you hold him tight. ‘is it?’ you don’t want to force him into it.
‘it is.’
except when you remember your words it still doesn’t feel okay. you’re not sure if it ever will. you wonder if that’s what peter was waiting on. 'i don't know, peter. i don't want you to resent me.'
'hey,' you're held at arm's length, peter wants to make sure you're looking at him. 'i took time away so i wouldn't resent you. you really, really hurt my feelings, staying away helped me protect yours.'
you can't imagine the strife you placed on peter, you know actions speak louder than words, but it's a promise to yourself that you will never do anything like it again.
'i'm so sorry, peter. i feel terrible.'
a hint of a smile, 'i know you do. watching you squirm has been a little fun.' you drop your jaw, the nerve. 'oh, you're so mean for that!'
peter cleared his throat, you weren't out of the fog yet.
'but, seriously. that fucking killed me, i mean, i really thought i couldn't breathe. i was just... shocked. shocked more than mad or sad or... i'm not sure.'
you open your mouth, peter stops you, he knows what you're about to say. 'and i don't want you to keep apologizing. it happened, we worked through it, and it doesn't need to keep being mentioned.'
'okay.' it's quiet, you understand what he means, but you feel like you can't explain your sympathy enough.
'ben was one of the most important people in my life and i opened up to you about it. i know it was in the heat of the moment, but you can't use those things against me. it will make me feel like i can't share anything with you.'
'i'm-' peter cut you off with your name, you held your lips closed.
'you're not a bad girlfriend either. you tried. you reached out, you stopped by, you apologized, you stayed away. you did everything you could do to prove how sorry you felt. even if i ignored you, that didn't go unrecognized.'
peter takes a deep breath, 'so,' his hands cup your face, thumbs brush your cheek bones softly. 'i love you, i'm not breaking up with you and it's okay.' peter rubs his nose against yours, 'okay?'
peter isn't saying it's okay because it's fine you talked to him like that. peter's saying it's okay because he sees your imperfections and loves them. peter's saying it's okay because he's said some things he doesn't believe either.
peter's saying it's okay because we're all allowed to fall from grace from time to time.
you want to say sorry, instead you smile and push against his face with your own.
'okay.' 
'good. now give me a kiss, i've been dying for one.'
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thefiery-phoenix · 10 months
Text
PLATONIC YANDERE POTTER FAMILY X READER X WEASLEY FAMILY
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In this AU, Harry's parents are well alive
You'd most probably meet the Potter family first before meeting the Weasley family and I have a feeling that they'd be friends with each other. You'd meet the Potter family on the day Harry was going to Hogwarts, James did have quite a legacy at Hogwarts for being one of the best Quidditch seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever had. Harry was looking forward to follow in his footsteps and the two of you met at the Kings' Cross Station. Your parents couldn't come with you to drop you off because they had an important business meeting with some client in Switzerland and they left you with your aunt who only dropped you off at the station and took off almost immediately, leaving you all by yourself surrounded with complete strangers. You've never been to Kings' Cross Station before and you had no idea where in the name of Merlin was platform 9 3/4. You've asked the Station master nearby and he thought you were just messing with him and pranking him which was why he just shooed you away
You were at a loss, you didn't know what to do and whom to contact, it wasn't like you were given an official guide as to where the platform was. You started panicking, thinking that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving without you any minute and you'd miss your wonderful chance to go to Hogwarts. You couldn't help but blink back a few tears of frustration as you felt that the situation was spinning out of control. You sighed and sat down on a bench for a moment to think about what to do next. You spotted a family of 3, a young boy of your age wearing glasses with a scar on his head, along with his parents, a man who resembled the boy's appearance, his father perhaps and his mother with hair as Red as the autumn leaves were accompanying their son with his trolley. "Blimey Harry, can't believe you're going to Hogwarts. Time does fly by fast" said James dramatically as he wiped his fake tears away
His wife, Lily glared at him and whispered "Shh... what if someone hears?" "It'll be all right, muggles don't know a damn thing about platform 9 and 3 quarters and Hogwarts and all that" he waved airily as they walked past you. An idea suddenly formed and took shape in your head as you followed them and when you finally caught up to them, you spoke "Umm... hi there, good morning. I was wondering if you could please direct me to where platform 9 and 3 quarters is...I know it exists, I just can't find it..." you finished with a forlorn look on your face as they stared at you in amazement for a moment and they had a silent discussion with each other through their eyes. You were indeed, one of them. "Don't worry dear, we'll help you. Where are your parents though?" enquired Lily as you replied "They're in Switzerland at the moment" "Oh...who came to drop you off then?" asked James as you answered "My aunt. She had some work to do back at her law firm. She's a lawyer so... it's just me by myself" you laughed slightly as they felt sad. Even though they just met you, Harry could already sense you were a bit upset and sad about something, the way your eyes had that wistful and wishful lost look in them, James and Lily didn't think too kindly about your aunt and your parents either at the moment
Attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time was a magical once in a lifetime experience which would be memorable in one's life. How could your so called family just abandon you like that without even taking the time off from their work to even see you off properly? And did your family not care about your safety at all? What about all the dangerous and unknown strangers lurking around? The society and world these days isn't really that safe you know especially for sweet little things such as yourself. They decided to accompany you and show you the ropes as you tagged along with them and felt grateful that you'd finally catch your train in time
You noticed Harry's scar and when you asked him how he got it, he just had a sheepish smile on his face and replied "I was trying to catch a snitch at the Diagon Alley on my broom and I accidentally crash landed at Borgin and Burkes near Knockturn alley. The owner wasn't really that pleased with me when I smashed some of his stuff but the incident did kind of catch on with the other witches and wizards from the magical world. Some thought it was amusing and they think I'll follow in my dad's footsteps to become a great seeker like him" "What's a seeker?" you asked him with a confused and bewildered expression on your face. He stared at you for a moment and then it dawned upon him that you could have spent your life living with muggles and you probably had no idea what he was talking about. However no matter, he'd show you and teach you everything
You guys reached the platform just in time and you thanked them for their help as Lily hugged you and smiled "Enjoy yourself dear. Stay safe and have fun but don't get into any trouble" your heart warmed at her words, it was the sort of advice a mother would give to her child before sending them off into the real world all by themselves. You nodded as you boarded the train with Harry, saying your farewell and goodbyes to the Potter family. James and Lily couldn't get you off their minds for some reason, they were concerned with your safety and wondered if you were being treated well at home. Perhaps they'd better write to Harry after he reached Hogwarts to check up on you and update them about you. Just to be safe
You were talking with Harry and your conversation was interrupted when a ginger haired boy around your age dressed in black robes, with freckles on his face peeked in and spoke "Excuse me, do you mind? Everyone else's is full..." "Not at all" replied Harry as he motioned for the guy to take a seat in front of him. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley" he introduced himself as Harry introduced himself and you introduced yourself as well. The three of you were engaged in discussions when the sliding door opened again and this time, a girl with brown hair asked if any of you had seen a toad, a boy named Neville had lost one. The three of you said you hadn't spotted a toad and when she saw the wand in Ron's hand, she spoke "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see it then" with an interested look on her face. Ron glanced at the two of you nervously but composed himself as he straightened his posture and uttered a spell which you were pretty sure wasn't even real because instead of turning his pet rat Scabbers yellow, he just made it frightened and it started scampering around everywhere till he finally managed to calm it down
The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and she disappeared after she told you three to change into your robes. You finally reached Hogwarts after a few hours and you were speechless by the magnificence and splendor before you. It looked exactly like the sort of castles in your bedtime stories your mother used to read for you when you were little, before she wasn't too preoccupied with her work and had time for you. You went along with the other first years led by a giant of a man named Hagrid who you thought was quite nice and friendly. Then the head of the Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall who was also the Transfiguration professor gave you all some background information about the houses
"Slytherin is filled with dark wizards and witches. And crackpots too" whispered Ron to you and you felt nervous, you didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin and lose your new friends. Professor McGonagall then asked you all to wait for a few moments as she needed to get some things ready for the sorting ceremony and as soon as she left, a blonde haired guy spoke "So it's true then, the sayings on the train... Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" as everyone looked at him in surprise and muttered among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy" as he introduced himself and Ron snickered in a not so subtle manner. Of course Draco heard it and wasn't really pleased with his reaction as he sneered at him. " You think my name's funny do you? There's no need to ask yours... red hair, a hand me down robe... you must be a Wealsey..." as he turned back to Harry and spoke "You'll have to know by now that there are some Wizarding families that are better than the others Potter. You're a part of the Sacred 28 after all,you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort..." and glared at Ron again
You barely knew Malfoy for 5 minutes when you intervened "I'm sorry, what exactly makes a family a part of the Sacred 28? And Harry can make his decisions for himself. Of course, if you were a part of a Sacred family, your values and morals would be decent as well. Else you wouldn't be insulting people right off the bat as soon as you meet them". Some of the first years around you 'ooohed' when you said that as Malfoy's face grew hot and red with anger as he snarled "Stay out of this. No one asked you for your opinion" and you just rolled your eyes in response. Harry and Ron stared in amazement at your courage as Hermione was observing the scene from a distance away. It was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already getting ready to fight? She looked on rather disapprovingly but part of her admired your courage and loyalty for your friends by standing up for them. Which was why she also gripped her wand in her pockets just in case she could pull it out if the situation got out of hand. She didn't want anything happening to you for some reason
It was time for the sorting at long last, the moment you've been waiting for and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sorted into the Gryffindor house whereas Malfoy was sorted into the Slytherin house. The sorting hat was placed on top of your head and it muttered "Hmm.... interesting. Very very interesting...." as you nervously looked up at it and asked "What is?" "In all my years of sorting students into houses, you're truly something. You have bravery, courage and loyalty, fit to be a Gryffindor and yet, that cheek, determination and lots and lots of ambition to make you a Slytherin. Plenty of brains, the curiosity and hunger for knowledge is in there as well, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. You're also kind hearted and have the good old nature that Helga Hufflepuff was talking  about...hmm... where to put you?" it asked you
It was quite an interesting predicament because never before did anyone see the sorting hat have trouble sorting someone into a house. Everyone looked at you with bated breath as you could feel everyone's eyes on you which made you a bit conscious of yourself but you tried your best to ignore the feeling. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was watching you quite closely as professor Snape, the Potions professor seemed interested as well. After a few moments of deliberation, the sorting hat finally sorted you into Gryffindor which you felt relieved about. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt immensely glad that you were in the same house along with them. You felt an exhilarating feeling course through your body when everyone clapped for you as you joined the Gryffindor table. You were introduced to the Wealsey siblings present there, Percy Wealsey, the third oldest who was the Gryffindor prefect, Fred and George the twins who were overly fond of pranking people and you made a mental note to not get on their bad side. The last thing you needed was to wake up with horns on your head or something or a tail for that matter
Harry, Ron, Hermione and you became fast friends pretty quick but you refused to talk with them when they didn't include you in the quest for the Philosopher's stone. It broke their hearts but it was for your own good,you couldn't be put in danger like that. They cared for you too much and it drove them crazy when you ignored them or just glared at them angrily and stormed off. You finally softened a bit towards them when they said that they didn't want to put you in danger and they just wanted you to be safe. You started hanging out with them again as usual and they were elated, the days you refused to even spare them a second glance was utter torture for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were like your three overprotective shadows, always around you no matter what. They've appointed themselves as your official caretakers and grew possessive and obsessive of you really quick
Harry wrote to his parents about you regularly as Ron did to his parents as well. During Christmas your parents forgot to send you your Christmas presents and you felt heartbroken. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mad as hell so they pitched in and got you some treats from the Great Hall and a few Christmas goodies of your own like a journal from Hermione, a cute quill set from Ron and from Harry, a book he thought you might be interested to read along with an encouraging note from all three of them. Of course they've mentioned to their parents that you haven't received any gifts for Christmas and you've received dozens of parcels from the Potter family and the Wealsey family, even though you hardly knew them. But they knew everything about you, more than you could know about yourself. You've received puddings, Tarts, cakes, pastries, sweaters, a maroon jumper with a W stitched on it and a snowglobe with a cute tiny snowman inside it. You felt grateful for their presents and sad at the same time for your own parents and family forgetting about you just like that
You were even more crushed when your parents said that they needed to go to France for a work conference and your aunt would be preoccupied with a huge case in the muggle world which meant you couldn't go back home. You were pretty devastated when you were invited by Ron to spend time with his family as Harry stated that his parents would join them at the Weasley's house for a couple of days. You agreed and upon reaching the Wealsey house, you could feel the warmth and homely feeling the atmosphere radiated. It certainly did give off homely vibes. You wished your family was also like this. You were introduced to Molly, who hugged you and spoke "So you're the famous Y/N my Ronald keeps talking about all the time... it's so nice to finally meet you dear" as Ron heatedly yelled out "MUM!" as Fred and George snickered in the background, whispering about how Ron was a simp for you as he told them to shut up
You were even introduced to Arthur Weasley, the father of Ron and the other Wealsey siblings who worked at the Ministry of magic, Bill Weasley who worked as a curse breaker at Gringotts the Wizarding bank in Egypt, Charlie Wealsey who worked with dragons in Romania which you found extremely fascinating. There was also young Ginny Weasley, who'd be starting Hogwarts next year. She was shy at first but she really opened up to you and she had fun being around you. The Weasley family loved and enjoyed your presence, it felt like you were part of their family already
Percy could see you becoming a head boy/ girl or prefect and he wanted to become your guide but Fred and George kept stealing you away to their room to show you their latest inventions. They loved it when your eyes sparkle and light up in curiosity, they feel proud when you take in interest in their inventions as do the other Wealseys when you enquired about their hobbies and pastimes. Molly wouldn't even let you step out of the house when it was time for De- gnoming the garden, she didn't want you getting injured and everyone agreed that it would be best for you if you'd stayed in while they'd take care of the business
A few days later James and Lily showed up at the Burrow and greeted you warmly as all of you sat down together and discussed various things over some nice hot steaming bowls of soup and a scrumptious feast laid out by Molly and Lily. When you were asked about your love life by Ginny, you literally choked on your soup as Molly patted you on the back and James handed you a glass of water. "Ginevra, that isn't a question for the dinner table" said Molly with a death stare as everyone present there became very interested in what you had to say. "Believe it or not, some guy from our Potions class, Troy Mullers asked me out for Valentine's day" "What did you say?" asked Hermione as everyone felt that sudden protective urge to make sure you were safe by all means necessary, even if it meant getting that Troy schmuck out of the way. They won't stand for someone to romantically court you, you were too kind and innocent to have your heart and feelings being taken for a ride by some random immature guy you barely even knew
"I... I rejected him. He wasn't happy about it and he called me all sorts of mean names but... it's not something I'm not used to" you shrugged it off as they all felt anger course through their veins. Who dared to make you sad and upset by calling you mean names and hurt your feelings? In fact Charlie was ready to send a Hungarian Horntail after them and Fred and George would send them Howlers after Holwers and packages with explosive Dungbombs from Zonkos, the Wizarding joke shop that go off as soon as you open the parcel. They were seething and they all came to a single conclusion, you had to be taken under their care for your own good. And judging by the way your so called family was treating you, you wouldn't want to be spend more time with them anymore which was a huge favor for them. Besides, what good is a family if they can't take care of you? Don't worry dear, they'll look after you and care for you like their very own. You've become a part of their families now whether you wanted to or not and it's like they say, family ALWAYS comes first...
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luveline · 10 months
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hi jade! i really loved ur steve drabble where he comforts reader when she's insecure about her appearance. would you write something similar with eddie? i don't mean to bother, thank u for all your wonderful writing <3
thank you lovely!! fem!reader
Eddie takes your hip into his hand as he passes behind you, the snug bathroom an excuse to touch. You don't mind, really, even as the lip balm you're using jolts down onto your chin. 
"Sorry," he says. He's not murmuring, but his voice has an understated sleepy quality to it that you adore. "Just gonna open the window." 
You've finished washing up for the night, steam from the shower clinging to the walls, the shower head dripping with run off. Your bathroom is a rectangle that can barely fit the two of you together, but it's yours, so it's perfect. 
Eddie pushes the window out off the latch to let in the mild summer air. The room immediately cools. Satisfied, he takes a big breath and turns to you with a content smile. "You smell good enough to eat," he praises, putting his hand behind your back. 
You cap your lip balm and brace yourself on the sink. In the mirror, it's easy to watch him watch you. Your face, lined with unhappiness, and his, so, so devoted it makes you feel poorly. 
"What's wrong?" he asks, moving in closer still. His bicep curls behind your back, his wrist hanging over your shoulder. He noses under your ear gently, propping a quick kiss there like he's going to pick it up again. "You look kind of sad." 
He says it like it's a tragedy in the making. 
Your attempt of a smile melds into a grimace as you direct your gaze down to the empty sink, porcelain shining with water. A tiny dollop of toothpaste clings to the drain. You turn on the hot tap. 
Eddie turns it off. "Hey," he murmurs, dragging it out, "tell me." 
"I think I'm having one of those days where I feel really ugly," you confess. 
"You're just as pretty as you were yesterday. As you are everyday." His face inches closer to yours. He speaks with all the intonation of someone telling a secret, "I'd say you were prettier, actually." 
"I don't know. I look weird, sometimes. I think I look one way and then I see myself in the mirror and I look different." 
Eddie's hand pets your upper arm, half a hug. "Can I give you a kiss?" he asks. 
You sigh and turn toward him, tipping your head back. 
He laughs. "Don't seem so reluctant!" he chides, bringing a hand to your cheek. With a gentleness that evidences how deeply he loves you, he strokes your cheek. Like you're fragile as a strand of silk, or precious as carved alabaster. 
"You don't think I'm ugly?" you ask. Perhaps desperately. 
Eddie meets your eyes. When he closes his, you close yours. "No," he says, pressing a mindless kiss to your lips, the kind he gives when you're both nearly sleeping, or barely awake. It livens, but before it can deepen, he pulls away to continue, "You're not ugly. I think you're the," —pause for a kiss, like he just can't wait— "prettiest girl in the world." 
The hand that isn't holding your face meanders across your lower back, fingertips teasing the hem of your t-shirt. He can't not do what he wants to do once he's thought about it, pushing his hand under your shirt to explore your naked back. He pulls you in close, your hips against the sink, his socked foot sliding between yours.
He kisses you slowly, time stretching and condensing at once. It could be five seconds, or it could be thirty. A kiss to say everything you're worried about is simply worry —it's as good an answer as you could want. 
Until he breaks away, and he says, "You're fucking stellar, I need you to know that. Head to toe. Can't believe you'd think any different, but what do I know about it? I only spend the large majority of my waking hours wishing I could climb into your skin." 
Your laugh catches in your throat. "You ruined it." 
"I look at you more than anything else," he says, amending his creepy finish. He turns your face gently, back and forth, his irises a melty shade of brown where they follow your growing smile. "So I'm the expert. You're beautiful, sweetheart. Don't think otherwise." 
"Or you'll crawl into my skin?" you tease, spirits lifted. 
Eddie wrinkles his nose. "Ew, no. Why would you think that?" 
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and laugh into his collar. He hugs you back enthusiastically. "Think there's enough room in there for me?" he whispers. "I wanna know what it's like to be that pretty." 
You shake your head. "No, sorry." 
"Bummer. Well, let me know if there's ever a vacancy." 
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charliedawn · 5 months
Text
The Yule Ball
You were nicely dressed for the occasion and looked around you, but all the people present were wearing masks and you couldn't find any familiar faces..However then, someone that you didn't know took your wrist and you frowned at him. He was smelling like alcohol and he looked at you like a free coursed meal..
" Are you going to dance with me, little bird ?" 
You frowned and were about to answer that he could go elsewhere to have his dance when someone else interrupted you.
Severus Snape
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"I believe she asked you to leave her alone. Can't you understand English ?" 
​​​​​​You both turned around in the direction of the voice and the boy nearly laughed at the boy who had spoken up. 
"You should probably watch your mouth, creep..I swear you give me the creeps even with your mask on. Besides, I'm sure the lady will probably choose me over you, isn't that right little bird ?!" 
He asked you loudly and a new determination filled you when you saw the crushed expression on the other boy's face. You got out of the other brute’s grip and punched him in the face so hard that you're sure he would feel it for days to come. You then spat angrily at him. 
​​​​​​"I would prefer his sweet company over yours any day, you oaf ! Now, get lost !"
The boy started crying and ran away with a bloody nose. You watched him leave and suddenly grimaced in pain at your injured wrist. The oaf had a hard face to punch…The nice boy who had tried to save you looked around shyly and you extended your hand with a kind smile. 
"I'm sorry..I'm usually not so violent but, enough is enough and sometimes, a punch in the face is all that they need to get on the right path..Will you dance with me ?"
He looked at your hand and your face multiple times over in shock before finally nodding. 
"But…But your hand ?"
You took out your wand and used a spell to make it brand as new and smiled reassuringly at him. 
"See ? As good as new."
He didn’t seem that convinced but, decided to take your hand anyway. You then started dancing slowly and you even caught a smile or two coming from your partner.
A few days later, you would learn that the nice young man’s name was Severus. Severus Snape.
James Potter
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"I'm sorry but, where did you read on my forehead "Little Bird"? Because that's not my name and I sure as Hell am not dancing with you..ever."
The mean boy frowned at you before tightening his grip on your arm. 
​​​​​​"Who do you think you are ?!"
You were about to answer when someone did it for you.
"A classy woman with taste. And you are trash..Now that the presentations are done, could you please get away from my date ?" 
You turned around, surprised to see another boy standing there with his hands in his pockets and smiling forcefully at the one who had gripped your arm. 
​​​​​​"I don't like repeating myself..So, either you will have disappeared from my sight in the remaining 5 seconds or I’ll get out my wand and give you a little lesson on manners.."
The mean boy—fortunately for you—did not want to fight and ran away when he understood that the threat was real. The boy who defended you then tsskd and whispered angrily. 
​​​​​​"Coward.."
You smiled and put your hands on your hips. 
​​​​​​"Thanks for the help…But, I could have managed.."
He snorted mockingly at you and you frowned. 
"Like Hell you could. The guy was practically dragging you to the exit.."
You humphed unhappily at his reply and was about to get going when he gently took your hand. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I tend to be a bit rude when I see things that pisses me off. And this guy definitely pissed me off. But, I would really like a..?!"
He didn’t have time to finish the end of his sentence that you were already dragging him on the dance floor. You started dancing and he smirked teasingly down at you. 
​​​​​​"I was gonna ask for a kiss…but that's nice too."
You blushed a little but replied with another humph. 
"Don't push your luck, Potter.."
But, you couldn’t hide your smile and he noticed it. He smiled back at you and whispered in your ear. 
"In all honesty, I was kinda jealous..I was not gonna leave that guy take your first dance..After all, you are my date, Y/N.."
Peter Pettigrew
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You smiled politely but still insisted on the fact that you didn't want to dance, especially since you didn't know how, but the mean boy was persistent and you started raising your voice at him. 
"Hey ! Stop it ! I already have a date and I'm sure he'll be there soon !" 
The boy snorted mockingly at you before replying. 
"Sorry, sweetcheeks, but if anyone was coming, they would have been there already. Especially after seeing such a piece of work.."
He eyed you up and down suggestively and you blushed in embarrassment—with tears in your eyes. You were about to scream for help when someone suddenly took the hand of the boy and twisted it painfully, making the boy scream in pain. 
​​​​​​"The girl said she didn't want to dance. You should have taken the hint the first time around. By the way, sorry for the wait—darling—I took too much time to get prepared.."
Peter looked at you with a smile and winked playfully at you while the pervert got out of his grip and screamed. 
​​​​​​"You're crazy !"
He then ran away and you watched him go with a sigh of relief. But then, your savior took a step towards you and extended his hand forward. 
"I'm not a good dancer either…but it's better than being harassed by jerks like him all night, right ?"
You hesitated to take his hand, but finally did with a small smile. 
"Yes. Thank you, Peter."
He nodded understandingly before finding a corner where you would be far enough from any unrequited attention. He then started to dance with you and you felt safe in his arms.
Lucius Malfoy
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You ignored the mean boy and politely asked him to move his hand away, but he only tightened his grip on you. 
"Come on. A girl like you should not be alone at a party like this one."
He whispered in your ear and you repeated firmly. 
"I was perfectly fine until you came along, sir..And now you're hurting me, so please stop and remove your hand from my person ?" 
He frowned at you but, as he was about to say something else, a hand gripped his wrist and you both turned towards the gentleman who was exceptionally well-dressed. There was only one person with such lovely blond hair and splendid fashion style. Lucius. He was frowning at the boy and said in a rather calm but threatening tone. 
​​​​​​"I think the lady was clear enough. You are hurting her and she does not want to dance with you.."
The boy glared at him but, let you go and walked away. Your savior glared at the boy until he was out of view and then, he looked back at you with a gentle smile. 
"Are you alright, my dear ?" 
​​​​​​You smiled back and nodded. 
​​​​​​"Yes, thank you.."
He nodded back and to his surprise, you were the one extending your hand towards him. 
"I know I just turned him down but, I really want to dance with you. You seem kind and I want to thank you for your help. But, if you don't want to dance, I'll understand and leave you be.."
​​​​​He looked down at your hand for a second before smiling and taking it. 
​​​​​​"It would be my pleasure.." He lead you to the dance floor and you started waltzing together. Then, he bent down and whispered in your ear. 
​​​​​​"You are lovely tonight, and as endearingly honest as the first time I met you…Y/N."
You smiled as he uttered your name and pulled him closer.
Sirius Black
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"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a dance with me ? See, the lady and I are a duo kind of deal and if you want to get into her pants..You shall also have to get into mine..Unfortunately, you're not really my type, so, I'll ask you kindly to bugger off, buddy." You looked at your mysterious savior with widened eyes and started laughing as he winked at you playfully. 
​​​​​​"Ugh ! Weirdos !" The boy said before walking away, surely to search for another young girl who wasn't protected by a nutcase. You looked up at him and he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. 
"Well ? Don't I get a dance after my brave attempt to save you ?" 
You arked an eyebrow at him before smirking too. 
"Would that not ruin our "duo" ? And brave ? Really ? You just made the both of us look like fools.."
He rolled his eyes playfully before extending his hand forward towards you. 
​​​​​​"For you ? I'll take the chance. And I don't really care what they all think, I saved a pretty lady and if you accept to dance with me ? It would have been worth it.."
You chuckled before putting your hand in his and answering. 
"Lead the way !" 
He then made you both break a path through the many dancers, searching for the spot with the most light and you arked an eyebrow. 
​​​​​​"Narcissistic much ?"
He pretended to be offended and gasped dramatically. 
"Me ?! Never.."
You both laughed together before starting dancing until the end of the song. You then looked up at him and he smiled down at you. 
"Anything on your mind, Y/N ?"
Your eyes widened in surprise.
"You know me ?" 
He chuckled before gently running his hand in your hair. 
"Of course I know you. Don't you recognize me ? After nearly one year in the same transfiguration class. I thought you would at least have learned my name."
It then clicked and you laughed.
"Well…I’ll be damned. The infamous Sirius Black. McGonagall’s worst nightmare. The prank master. Dancing with little old me. I feel humbled."
Sirius grinned wildly before pulling you closer.
"Yeah…But, tonight. Sirius will do just fine."
You were momentarily stunned before smiling back and accepting his hug wholeheartedly.
"Alright, Sirius."
Remus Lupin
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"I'm sorry gentleman but, this lady is already taken."
The mean boy turned towards the boy who had just spoken—ready to protest—but finding that he was at least two heads taller than him and smiled awkwardly. 
"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He then quickly let go of you and walked away without adding anything. You smiled gratefully at the other boy while gently trying to soothe your wrist by massaging it. 
"Thank you. I thought he would never leave."
But then, he frowned at you and you felt scared for a second, only to be reassured when he extended his hand forward and asked. 
"Your wrist…May I see it ?" 
You showed it to him and he gently ran his thumb over the bruise already forming. He then surprised you by kissing it gently and you blushed multiple shades of red at the intimate gesture. He then guided you away to the part of Hogwarts where you could see the stars and you followed him, as if hypnotised…
He took out a chocolate bar from his pocket and handed it to you. 
"It will help with the pain. Trust me."
You took it with a grateful smile. 
" Thank you. You are very kind."
He smiled back at you and took off his mask. He then took a deep breath with his eyes closed.
"Finally…I hate masks." He then turned towards you and extended his hand towards you with a smile. "Remus. Remus Lupin."
You looked down at his hand before smiling and shaking it.
"…Y/N. Pleasure."
The Twins
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"Hey ! That's no way to treat someone, especially a lady ! And sorry big boy but, she already promised me that dance..." 
A ginger-headed boy said while wrapping his arm around your waist. But the mean boy only snickered at him. 
"What are you gonna do about it, carrots ?" 
Suddenly, another arm wrapped itself around your waist on the other side of you and you were surprised to see the exact same boy who smiled cheekily at him. 
"Actually, she promised us that dance, Fred. And it's what we're gonna do to you that you should be worried about. And carrots ?! Really ?! Find some originality at least !"
The boy who was bothering you—outnumbered—ran off while the two boys looked at each other and laughed as they threw the same insults at him. 
"Chicken ! Ape ! Gorilla ! Cat-fish !…"
The one called Fred then added. 
​​​​​​"See ?! That's originality and talent in one swing ! Take some notes next time !" 
You smiled gratefully at them both, recognising your favorite twin brothers and kissed them both on the cheeks. 
"Thank you. You're my heroes."
They both blushed wildly and smiled widely at you before answering at the same time. 
"No problem !" 
You faked trying to remember before asking with a teasing grin. 
"Now…who’s my date again ?"
…They started arguing with each other before you decided to give each of them a dance.
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dinogoofymutated · 1 month
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So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽
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SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘
Read pt. 2 Here :)
-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.
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    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable. 
    He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.
    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences. 
    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you���ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.
    “Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.
    “What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty. 
    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.
    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.
    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right. 
    You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.
    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.
   “I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.
    “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.
   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. 
    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached. 
   But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gentle touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway. 
    It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often. 
    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.
    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.
    But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.
    “Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment. 
    “... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back. 
    You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.
  The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.
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starberry-cupcake · 2 months
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Me reading this book is like trying to pin things to a cork board with red thread but the things I'm trying to pin down are fog and they vanish before I can grasp them.
Here's a visual representation of me finishing a chapter:
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previously, in harrowbeenie the ninth:
this happened
currently, after chapter 5 (you're gonna have to be patient with this one):
we're moving back and forth between the second and third person
knowing now the content of the letters that yandere twin had talked about in the prologue, it makes some sense
but we aren't there yet
I need to point out something I don't think I specified enough last time
ice cube barbie changed eyes
people be changin' eyes here
she used to have eyes like harrow and now she has, and I quote: "ever since you had writhed in Lyctoral agony, her eyes had turned a yellow that made you dizzy to behold: a bronzed, hot, animal yellow, as amber as the inside of an egg"
this is from gideon's last ch.: "Gideon's eyes, as they always did, startled her: their deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea"
just gonna leave that there
but now, moving forward...or backwards to ch. 3 flashback of sorts
we got a recap of most of the events we knew, but in a gideon-less ver.
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I'm gonna also point out that harrowbean mentions her mother holding her wrist the same way she said ice cube barbie did when they were in the coffin hangar
another addition to the clown emperor's story is that the Resurrection is described in harrow's memories as "ten thousand years ago had given them all release from death that none of them had deserved"
I don't know about any of this
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we've got a disturbance in the force when harrow describes her parents finding out about the tomb thing
it says "her parents had...found out...about what she had done"
interesting edit of the story there
there's a gideon-sized hole in this story
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there's also an interesting new count of nooses??
she says they tied five, two for mortus (???) but in gideon's book she said they tied their own nooses and then helped her tie hers, what's up with mortus having two??? is this nothing and I'm just obsessing about every detail???
I'm gonna start seeing palmolive's force ghost roaming around my house
at the end of ch. 3 it says "there had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born"
this is a VERY INTERESTING wording
if someone dies before you are born, they can't grow up with you
UNLESS
I'm not gonna dwell on that yet
let's put a pin on that
ch. 4 has the re-apparition of yandere twin
*live studio audience cheers, maybe*
she gives her a letter addressed to her from her
the letter has a lot of instructions of things she doesn't remember at all and also are supposed to be opened at specific times/events
one of them says "in the event of the emperor's death"
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another says it's in case she sees regina george twin, which makes a whole argument happen and knives are used to settle it
yandere twin will not hear someone imply her sister might be no longer with us
she probably isn't dead, this I know for certain, people wouldn't be confusing my names for them if that was all we got from her
the most important letter, though, is the one in case she sees camilla, who harrow claims not having interacted with ever
this is a very important thing to note, but most importantly, CAMILLA MENTION
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very important to be noting who harrow remembers interacting with and who she doesn't
very important as well that she remembers yandere twin losing an arm in battle but does not remember gideon or camilla
I haven't mentioned it yet but, in the letter, past!harrow tells present!harrow that she needs to check yandere twin's tongue and lower mandibule
to which I think to myself "I bet she's gonna kiss her"
and that she did
which makes me want an edition of this book but with gideon commentary
like a dvd commentary but it's gideon commenting on all this stuff
and cracking jokes
because I bet she'd be cracking jokes about this
remember when she joked that yandere twin would marry mayonnaise uncle?
and then both harrow and mayonnaise uncle were like "ew the third's magic is weird"
imagine if she saw this display
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another CRUCIAL thing is that harrow is doing like an oath to yandere twin as requested by past!harrow
and she says "by the ripped and remade soul of ortus nigenad"
and yandere twin goes "who? oh, yes—the cavalier"
I mean, mood at not remembering the names, but also SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR
she also tells present!harrow "I gave you something you cared about very deeply at the time"
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side note, there is yet another moment in which chad is read for filth
get obliterated even in undeath, chad
last detail from this chapter is that harrowbean almost gets assassinated
maybe I should have started with that
at this point there's so much going on, death seems like a normal one
so yeah, she's gonna get killed with a pillow to the face and then she defends herself and discovers at the end of the chapter that she didn't hallucinate the whole thing and it was hidden from her on purpose that somebody tried to end her
so what's the point in being in this clown death star and surviving big brother canaan house if you can't even sleep peacefully???
moving on to chapter 5
remember the timeline I was making?
yeah, about that
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chapter 5, in the third person continuity, establishes that what I saw previously was not necessarily a memory but an au memory
if we can call it something at this point
so my calculations were made as if the timeline was one
but this is not one timeline, it's a sort of parallel gideon-less one
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of course my heart is making me believe the gideon-less one is the one that isn't real
and that past!harrow might know what's going on with that
maybe gideon's existence needs to be protected
maybe the emperor doesn't have to know about her
(I'm still holding on to the gideon hope, leave me alone)
but, in any case, present!harrow doesn't know
let's remember the prologue begun with harrow doing something she shouldn't and yandere twin saying something like "was there something in those letters I don't know about?"
I'm just gonna have to throw my timeline in the trash and start over with multiple timelines for now
ALSO, I didn't say anything about it yet, but it's mentioned that harrow is "in love" with ice cube barbie
take that as you will
which is another joke gideon has made in the past and would be stellar in a commentary of this
and, talking about things gideon would be awesome at commenting
in the new ortus-inclusive (?) narrative, ortus is talking about the epic of Matthias Nonius, who we know because harrow has compared gideon to him in the past
and also there's is a comment made about how ortus looks down on people who read "prurient magazines or pamphlets"
I really need gideon confessionals commentary over here
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she also says that "the ninth house character, she was forced to admit, had always been low on wild and confident fucks"
yeah, well, how about that
and we end with THE FLIMSY
lots of important flimsies in this
she finds a note that reads "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED AND YOU LIED TO ME"
ortus says he can't read it
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but, in any case,
that made me stop in my tracks because I was reminded I forgot about the writing on the walls of canaan house?????
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I filed it under canaan house weirdness but then, it was never talked about?????? again????
also the paper gideon found with her name
which I assumed was addressing the other gideon that not!dulcinea mentioned knowing
but who tf knows at this point
who knows what time and space are anymore
time to leave it for today...this is getting wild, you guys
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mcflymemes · 10 months
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PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary
on purpose. i love him on purpose.
i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.
i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.
take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.
get in there.
you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.
before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.
i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.
sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?
you've been warned.
he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.
my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.
hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?
i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.
we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?
if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.
but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.
i actively wish for the sweet release of death.
yes, good, carry on.
i won't hear a word against it.
we're gonna do it together.
i said you look great, baby!
i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.
i'm so in love i could die.
you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.
i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.
i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.
you must invent an entirely new system.
a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.
he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.
i've bloody well had it!
we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.
that's beyond our sense of decorum!
i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.
aw, you do care.
if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.
straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.
the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.
you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.
should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?
can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?
what are we even defending here?
history will remember us.
when i sleep, i see you.
i hate this so much.
every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.
we're just gonna fucking fight.
he is my choice.
i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.
i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.
when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.
i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.
your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.
for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.
the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.
i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.
give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.
i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.
you see, for me, memories are difficult.
never tell me the odds.
i wish there weren't a wall.
jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.
you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.
i'm finished. i don't care.
god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.
the whole world watched, and history remembered.
are you quite finished?
just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.
you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.
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nonclassyparty · 4 months
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tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)
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summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine
pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)
(prologue; when we were kids)
and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school
6 and 8 years old;
Your mom helped you build the snowman.
An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.
The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.
(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)
After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.
Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.
"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.
Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.
"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.
All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.
"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"
But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.
"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.
You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.
They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!
She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."
"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face. 
"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.
"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.
"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"
You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"
She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."
So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.
-
"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!" 
Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.
When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it. 
The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!
He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.
Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.
But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!
It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else! 
The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.
You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.
Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.
-
10 and 12 years old;
"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!" 
Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.
He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.
Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.
"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.
And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.
"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"
"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.
Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.
"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.
"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.
Stupid Beomseok.
-
Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose. 
There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?
Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.
He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.
Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.
Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.
 Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek. 
Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.
Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.
The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.
Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl. 
Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.
Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.
"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.
"Wha-?"
And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.
"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.
Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.
"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.
(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)
-
14 and 16 years old;
Wooyoung has a girlfriend.
You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.
Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.
That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking. 
You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.
He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too. 
His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.
So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.
He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.
And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.
You even saw them kiss. Just once.
When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.
Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.
Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder. 
She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.
"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.
Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.
You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included)  but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.
You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.
Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.
Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.
You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.
High school was scary.
"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.
"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"
You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."
A crush. As if!
She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.
-
"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.
He snorts, "Yeah."
You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.
The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.
He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.
And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.
Since you're such a crybaby.
He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.
Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.
"I think she has a crush on you."
He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.
"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"
"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."
Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."
A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.
He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.
Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder. 
"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"
"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."
Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"
She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.
As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.
-
18 and 20 years old;
From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.
Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.
Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo. 
To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.
You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.
So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.
Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.
With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.
Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either. 
Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.
But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence. 
All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.
With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.
Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace. 
He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.
It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.
It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.
"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"
You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"
"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."
"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."
He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"
After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.
A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;
"Do I really look funny?"
"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."
"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.
Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.
Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.
Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.
"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"
"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.
"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."
Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.
You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.
An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.
"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.
"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"
"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"
The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"
"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."
He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.
"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."
"Girls....like that?"
"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."
"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.
"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.
But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.
Eunwoo was one of those guys.
"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."
"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.
"Yeah, I'll walk home."
"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"
"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."
"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"
You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."
So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.
If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.
Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.
You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).
Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.
Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.
But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.
"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.
That ends up being your last straw. 
You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.
Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.
He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.
You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.
Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.
He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.
Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something. 
It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.
-
"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand. 
He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.
"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.
You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.
"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."
"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.
"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"
"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"
Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.
The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"
You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.
But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."
Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."
His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"
"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.
"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"
Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.
"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.
"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.
"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."
Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."
Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.
Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.
"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.
Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."
He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."
Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"
You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."
Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.
But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-
"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."
Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.
There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.
"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.
It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,
"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.
"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"
"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."
Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.
Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-" 
"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.
When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."
You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.
"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.
Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.
He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.
When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.
But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.
Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand. 
Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk. 
"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.
Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."
His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.
Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."
He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.
Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.
"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."
Likely thing to happen.
The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.
Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.
Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.
He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."
Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.
You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."
Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."
He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."
Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.
Why can't you just be nice to her?
The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.
He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.
You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.
"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."
He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.
Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.
Your brows raise.
"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."
You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.
"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."
And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.
-
19 and 21 years old;
"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!" 
Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.
The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.
"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.
Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression). 
So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.
And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.
"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."
You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.
In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.
But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.
In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.
You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team. 
"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.
The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.
‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just  ready to fight.
 You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall. 
"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red. 
With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.
Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-
"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"
At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,
"Number nine! Crybaby!"
There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.
A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.
The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.
You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-
"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"
Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years. 
Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.
When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.
You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;
"Jung Wooyoung!"
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eitaababe · 5 months
Text
EVEN IT'S A LIE !
epilogue.
[ a / n ; i finished! who would've thought. ]
series masterlist. | previous.
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— two years later !
after having to deal with the baggage from ao'nung, the past couple of years had been nothing short of focusing on yourself. with the help of your friends, you were able to find yourself again, assuring yourself you'd never let a man dictate the way you felt about yourself ever again.
of course, avoiding ao'nung when you go to the same university is nearly impossible. you see each other in passing every few months or so, trying your best to limit any sort of contact with each other.
you'd grown closer with rotxo, with him being a better friend to you than you ever could have expected. it's strange, how well you're able to avoid ao'nung when your best friends with the two people closest to him.
still, the limited contact keeps the damage to a minimum.
because you'd be lying if you said you didn't think of him from time to time, the three words he claimed to be nothing but the truth. and how you were deceived into feeling the same.
but you're content, and over time you'd started to find yourself again. making it a weekly thing to just go out on your own, to your favorite cafe for some alone time.
so when you walk in, the last thing you expect to see is ao'nung's face behind the counter, an apron tied around his figure.
you feel your throat go dry when his eyes widen, and he tries to keep as professional as he can, clearing his throat before speaking up. "what can i get for you today?"
"uhm," you stutter, blinking multiple times before bringing yourself back to reality. it's more than a shock, seeing him in a place that was supposed to bring you peace, and now is making your head spin in such a way it makes you forget your usual order. "just a iced chai, please."
"you wanna take a muffin with that?"
you're surprised as the question slips out his mouth. you've always liked to pair your drink with some sort of muffin over the years, a small detail you definitely didn't expect him to remember.
"uh, yes please. how about a-"
"blueberry." he says quietly and in sync with you as he jots it down casually. you don't understand how he seems to be so nonchalant over this, like the interaction isn't so out of the blue for him.
you both stand there silently as he finishes up the order, and you pay, your eyes meeting after. and when they do, it's like you could fall into him all over again. his eyes are like the ocean, waves so dangerous yet you can't help but want to jump in. you have to pull your gaze away, breaking you both out the trance.
"look, i'm- i'm really sorry," he breathes out, and taking this as an opportunity as nobody else is in line behind you, and the cafe is experiencing its dead hour. "i know it was years ago, but i was an asshole. really. and i just- i've worked on myself, and i've had time to reflect, and i still can't believe i did what i did."
you smile at the sincerity of his voice, and you can do nothing but believe him. it's true, he's grown as a person in the past years and so have you. you can practically see how he's matured, carrying himself with a calm sense of confidence, different from the cockiness that once was.
"it's alright, really," you assure, nodding as you're finally able to hold a civil conversation after all this time. "i mean- we're both really different people now. we've grown, and learned, and it's water under the bridge, honestly. and i know it might not mean much," i chuckle. "but i was finally able to bring myself to forgive you."
"it's a lot," he admits, smiling back at you with a certain sweetness behind it. "it's everything. really." he assures, and this time, you're sure he means it.
after a few smiling moments you glance down, deciding to take a leap.
"would you like to join me? maybe for just a bit, i know you're working. but.. just as friends."
because despite what ao'nung did to you, there's always a soft spot for him in your heart. always a part of you that will know him, no matter how much he changes. and maybe you don't realize it either, but it's just the same for him.
his smile grows even wider at the invitation, and you can feel your heart swell at the sight.
"i'd love to."
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[🏷️ ; taglist. / closed ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @halibanana @teyums @lightskinloak @ipoopedmypants47 @aonungmybf @il0veheartz @chittakii @jjkclub @universal-s1ut @ilovejakesullysdick @calums-betch @izuoyarmin @yeosxxx @cl0esblogg @alwayswndr @iheartamajiki @jenniferdixon05207 @manumanulau @myh3artttt @sugarrush-blush @be3flow3r @cupidsl0ve
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lucy90712 · 2 months
Text
Bad Timing- Ruben Dias
WC: 3.4k My eyes opened slowly when I felt a hand gently rubbing my cheek and as I was coming to my senses a kiss was pressed to my nose which made me smile slightly. As my eyes adjusted I saw my lovely husband Ruben stood on my side of the bed ready to go to his training session. Since I entered the last few weeks of pregnancy this has been our routine as I have found it increasingly difficult to get out of bed. I was hoping we wouldn't need to be doing this for this long as my due date was nearly a week ago but here I am still very much pregnant and struggling with pretty much everything. 
"I'm sorry to wake you love but I need to leave in a minute and I didn't want to leave you here until I got back" Ruben said softly 
"It's ok I need to get up anyway my back is killing me" I said 
"I'm sorry amor let me help you get settled downstairs and maybe when I get back I can see what I can do to help you" he said 
"Thanks Rubes but it's ok I don't think there is anything you can do it's just pregnancy pain" I said 
He didn't say anything else instead he just helped me up and then down the stairs and to my usual spot on the sofa which has everything I need. Being the amazing husband he is Ruben filled up my water bottle for me and got me some breakfast before giving me one last kiss and heading out the house. I always hate when Ruben leaves but I know he has to go to training and I'm certainly not going to stop him unless I really have to. We were both hoping that the baby would be here by now as Ruben had a few days off not too long ago which would've been perfect timing but instead our little one wanted to wait until there is a long run of games. 
Usually once I get out of bed some of my back pain subsides but today it only seemed to be getting worse which made any way I tried to sit very uncomfortable. It seems that today everything hurts my back, my feet, my ribs just everything is sore which is a horrible feeling but it's only going to get worse when I actually go into labour. For the last week I have done nothing but sit on this sofa which has been driving me mad but I just can't do anything else no matter how much I try it's just too exhausting. 
After sitting down for a while I had to get up to use the bathroom which was difficult but I got myself up and to the bathroom eventually. As I was walking back I felt liquid gush down my legs which a few minutes ago I would've thought was something else but at this time it's very clear that my waters have just broken. At some point I knew this would happen but it still really shocked me and I didn't know what to do, do I call Ruben or do I wait as it could still be a long time before this baby arrives. Our hospital bag isn't even fully packed yet because we have had other things going on and it has just slipped my mind. There is so much to do but I can't do it all by myself or at least not all at once so I need to think clearly.
First I got changed as my clothes were wet and while I was upstairs I finished packing the hospital bag which made me feel a lot more relaxed. After I got back downstairs I cleaned the floor and then went to sit back down so I could grab my home and text Ruben. While doing other things I decided that just texting Ruben would be best that way he could decide what he wanted to do whenever he read the message and if I need him before he has chance to read it I can call someone at the training ground to go and get him. 
You: my waters have just broken. Don't feel like you need to come home it could be hours yet. Enjoy training x
It's not everyday you send a text saying you are in labour so I didn't really know what to say I just know I wanted to sound as calm as possible so I tried to not make it seem like a big deal even though it kind of is. 
As time progressed on I could start to feel proper contractions which were still very far apart but they were definitely more painful than I had anticipated. The first few I managed to breathe through on my own but then the pain almost started to accumulate and I was really struggling on my own. I thought of calling Ruben  a few times but I stopped myself as I knew he has to work and I'm not far enough into labour to bother him yet. As a compromise I decide to send a few more texts just in case he happens to glance at his phone as then he'll see a few messages from me and maybe he'll read them. 
You: what time does your training finish? 
You: please tell me you don't need to stay late today 
You: these contractions hurt more than I thought they would 
You: why did we decide to have a baby this is awful and it's not even nearly as bad as it will be 
Ruben's POV 
After leaving home this morning I haven't felt good about leaving y/n but I know she will be fine. If anything happens she will call me or get someone to tell me so I know I don't need to worry but it's difficult as any minute now she could go into labour and I want to be there when that happens. She keeps promising me that she will be fine on her own even when she first goes into labour but I don't want her to have to go through that on her own this is our baby and I want to be there for her the entire time. 
When I arrived at the training ground I had to do an interview first but I was running a bit late so I just dropped off all my things in the locker room and ran off to go to my interview. As soon as I got to the interview I realised I didn't have my phone but the interview wasn't supposed to be long and I was already late so I couldn't go back and get it for just incase. The interview actually ran over by quite a bit so I didn't have long until we actually started training so I had to run back to the locker room in order to be ready in time. 
"Hey mate I'm guessing your interview ran over" Jack said 
"Yeah it's partly my fault I was a bit late" I said 
"You might want to check your phone before we go out man it's been going crazy the last few minutes" John told me 
"Ok I'll check it in a second thanks" I replied 
I picked my phone up to see I had a few texts from y/n. As I read them one by one I could feel my eyes getting wider and my jaw dropping further. She's actually in labour and in pain and I'm not there to support her. I know she won't want me missing training but I need to be there for her especially when she says it's already more painful than she expected. I was in two minds as I know y/n will be mad if I come home early but I also think she needs me even if she won't admit it. There is also the fact that we have a lot of games coming up but honestly that doesn't really matter to me right now what matters is my wife and baby. 
"Is everything ok you look like you've just seen a ghost" John stated 
"Y/n's in labour I've got to go" I said gathering all my things which I shoved down earlier 
"I need to tell someone I'm going where are all the coaches" I spoke mostly to myself 
"Don't worry about that you go we will tell everyone they will understand just go be with y/n" Bernardo said 
"Thanks guys I guess I'll see you tomorrow" I said running out 
Ruben: I'm coming home I'll be there soon love don't worry ❤️
~~~~~~~~~~
Your POV
Ruben seemingly made it home in no time at all after I got his text as it felt like just 5 minutes later he was by my side and checking if I needed anything. He stayed by my side from the second he got home holding my hand and timing my contractions as thats what the doctor told us to do. I felt bad dragging Ruben away from training especially with all the important games coming up but he kept telling me that him being here is more important than any game and that pep would understand when he found out. 
My labour progressed much quicker than I was expecting. With this being my first child I was told that it was highly likely I would be in labour for a long time but within just two hours my contractions were less than 5 minutes apart and we were heading to the hospital. Ruben put the hospital bag in the car first before then coming back to help me walk to the car which took us a while as I had a contraction halfway to the car. Riding in the car was so incredibly painful especially when we went over bumps in the road but with Ruben's support and a bit of swearing we made it to the hospital and they gave us a delivery room straight away. 
By this point I was in a lot of pain and although I didn't plan to get an epidural I asked the nurse as soon as she came in if I could have one. Ruben and I talked about a birth plan a few weeks before my due date and when I told him I didn't want an epidural he told me it was completely my decision but now that I've just completely thrown my decision out the window I feel awful. I mean I barely lasted a few hours before I gave up and took the painkillers the second I could which is so pathetic. 
"What's on your mind love I can tell you are thinking about something" Ruben said 
"Just the fact that the second we got here I asked for the epidural I just feel stupid that I couldn't manage the pain even though my body is built to do this" I sniffled trying not to cry 
"Hey its ok there is no shame in needing something to help with the pain if this whole thing was a breeze they would never have invented the epidural and it doesn't make you any less of a hero in my eyes" he said 
"Thank you I needed that" I said 
In that moment the nurse came in and checked how dilated I was which I know is pretty standard but the look on her face and how quickly she called for a doctor scared the life out of me. Even Ruben looked worried and he's usually the calm one in moments like this which only made me more stressed which could very easily be seen on the monitors I was hooked up to. 
"What's going on is everything ok?" I asked 
"Yes everything's fine its just I can't give you that epidural as you are already 10cm dilated so its time for you to push" the nurse explained 
After pushing for 15 minutes I finally heard the best sound I've ever heard our little baby crying for the first time and the nurses announced that it was a girl (Ruben gives off such girl dad vibes to me). Straight away the nurses placed the baby on my chest and I couldn't help but breakdown into tears as she was just so small and cute. Ruben then let go of my hand for the first time in ages and leant down to kiss my forehead which is when I noticed that he had tears in his eyes too. It was such a special moment that will definitely live in my memory forever but sadly it had to end as the nurses had to take the baby to do all the necessary tests on her. 
Once we got our little girl back she didn't leave our arms until we were discharged and we had to put her in the car seat so we could go home. When we got home I had to put her down as neither of us have eaten since this morning which isn't great. Just as Ruben was going to order us food as neither of us wanted to cook his phone started ringing with a call from pep so he got up to answer it as he didn't want to wake the sleeping baby. The call brought be back to reality though as even though we've just welcomed our little girl into the world Ruben is needed with the team so he's not going to be around to help as much as I would like. 
Weirdly Ruben came back with a big smile on his face which I thought might just be because of the events of today but he seemed a bit too happy especially after getting a call from his boss so I was suspicious as to what they were talking about. 
"Pep has given me some time off this week so I get to stay home with the two of you" Ruben said 
"Wait really how long?" I asked 
"The rest of this week and then next Monday as well so I don't need to leave you until Tuesday oh and also he says congratulations" Ruben said 
"You have no idea how relived I am that you're going to be here for a few days while we get into a routine" I said 
~~~~~~~~~~
The week Ruben had off flew by and now it's Tuesday morning and he's back to training. We had an amazing week just being in our little newborn bubble though we worked out a good routine that works for us and we got to have plenty of cuddles with our little girl while shes still so tiny. Sadly our little bubble had to be burst at some point and today is the day as Ruben had to get back to work at some point although I wish he could be here for a bit longer as I know things are going to be hard once he leaves me on my own. I know Ruben feels bad about leaving as he wants to spend more time with our daughter while she's still little but he has to get back to the team and plus it will show our little girl that you have be dedicated to get what you want. 
Luckily I don't have to do everything on my own straight away as Ruben wants his teammates to meet our baby so I am going to training with him today so everyone can meet her. I haven't left the house since she was born so I'm excited to get out and see some people plus it will be nice to not be completely alone on Ruben's first day back at training. Being the first time I'm leaving the house I had to get up early and wash my hair as I can't lie I haven't washed it since giving birth as I just haven't had the time. It felt good to have some time to myself and to be able to put on some nicer clothes that are mine and not Ruben's as I've been wearing a lot of his clothes postpartum. I would've liked to have put on a bit of makeup to hide my dark circles but I didn't have time as Ruben needed to get ready so I had to take over baby duties again. 
After a few trips back and forth to the house we finally made it out the house only a few minutes late but we arrived to the training centre a bit later as Ruben drove really carefully because he wants to make sure both me and our daughter are safe. When we arrived Ruben helped me out of the car before grabbing the car seat holding it in his other hand that wasn't holding mine. We had to walk a little bit slower as I still can't move as well without a bit of pain. Thankfully Ruben is really patient and despite already being late he was happy to go at my pace and told me not to rush although I did try and walk a bit quicker. 
When we made it to the locker room Ruben went in quickly to make sure all the guys were decent before coming back out and opening the door for me. As we went in all the boys were looking at us which made me feel a little bit awkward but I know they won't judge me for how tired I look. 
"How are you guys?" John asked as he came over to greet us both 
"We're good very happy but very tired" Ruben laughed 
"What about you y/n is Ruben helping you?" Bernardo asked
"I'm ok getting better each day and Ruben's been great I couldn't ask for more" I said 
We all spoke for a bit longer before the baby started crying not because she wanted anything but just to get some attention as she likes to be held pretty much 24/7. I picked her up and rocked her in my arms for a few seconds which stopped the crying and replaced it with satisfied baby noises. Since little one was content and falling asleep I asked if any of the boys wanted to hold her and of course they all did but I handed her to Bernardo first as him and his wife have been really helpful since she was born dropping off food for us when we first came home from the hospital. 
She got passed around all of the players who were all doting over which made me so happy to see as it means Ruben and I have a great support system around us. Just as I finally got my baby back in my arms pep and the other coaches came in to see what their players were up to a they should all be out on the field by now. Just before they were about to be lectured pep saw me stood with Ruben and stopped his rant he was about to go on and instead came over to say hello. Again I was asked how I was doing before we were able to introduce our daughter to the staff who were just as excited as the rest of the guys to meet her. As this was the first time I had seen pep since giving birth I wanted to thank him for letting Ruben have some time off. 
"Thank you so much for letting Ruben have the week off it's been so helpful having him home I don't know what I'd have done with him" I said when I got a minute with pep
"You don't need to thank me family is important and having a newborn is difficult so I was more than happy to give him the time off" he said 
"Well thank you it's truly been a blessing" I said 
After a few more quick conversations the boys had to go and train so Ruben gave me one last kiss after helping me take everything to the stands so I could sit and watch the training session. It was weird not having him by my side like he has been the past week but I know I need to get used to not having him around as much as that's the way it will be from now on.
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