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esmedelacroix · 7 hours ago

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09 - People Who Need People

synopsis ! he’s an american football player by day and a passionate mathematician by night . she’s a well-rounded historian and writer who couldn’t evaluate a derivative to save her life . they lived in two different worlds but shared the same study room .

previous chapter | series masterlist

cw ! no use of y/n, y/n is _____, fluff, slow burn, college au, ooc sukuna, f!reader, child abuse/neglect, alcohol, angst, brief mention of self-harm, depressive tendencies

fic radio ! lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

You swore you would text him and try to talk about his apology and how much it meant to you. But things just kept getting in the way. You're eyelids were beginning to feel dry and heavy from your study session. Just as your eyes fell on your bed, you realized you could hear the birds chirping and the morning light peeking through your window. You pulled an accidental all-nighter and needed to get ready to go to office hours.

After that, you had two classes and got roped into helping out the club you allowed yourself to forget you were the leader of. It was only at the end of the day, when your friends somehow tracked you down at Sal's, you'd interacted with people that actually cared about the "How are you," beyond the faulty "I'm good," that always followed.

"Woah, _____, didn't expect to see you here so late," Satoru said, plopping down into the booth seat across from you alongside Shoko.

Suguru took the seat next to you and peeked at the book you were reading. "People still use physical textbooks?" he asked, flipping through some pages and then closing it, earning a glare from you.

"We haven't seen or heard from you all day, _____. We kind of assumed you were going to self-destruct and stop speaking to us for the next week and keep doing unnecessary work again, so we figured we would hunt you down," Shoko explained.

"I wasn't-" you started, only then realizing you hadn't spoken to anyone since the day prior, even though you had received a bunch of texts from people asking if you were okay after the party.

"Oh," you sighed, rubbing your hand down the side of your face.

"Yeah, oh."

"I'm so sorry. I keep worrying you guys," you guiltily apologized.

"It's totally not your fault, but just remember you need us as much as we need you. We're your friends, and we're here for you, and people need people to lean on. You need to let us be those friends for you," Suguru lectured.

"Now that we have that out of the way. What the heck happened at the party??" Gojo asked, jumping right into the drama. Shoko rolled her eyes, cutting him off, asking, "Wait, but everything's okay, _____?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you half lied.

You could feel Suguru's prying eyes on you, like he was trying to deconstruct what you were actually thinking. He did that often. Picked up on things that others couldn't. He always watched. Always noticed. Always nudged your knee under the table and gave you that 'Are you okay?' look. He always fucked around in your room just to exist in the same space as you. He knew when you needed to be around someone or you'd drive yourself up a wall. And now he was staring at you, picking apart your expressions and seeing you for what you were actually feeling. Just like the way Sukuna has learned to.

To say that you never had a crush on Suguru was a lie. You had a tiny thing for him freshman year because of how overwhelmed you were with how good of a friend he was off the bat. You had never had anything like that in prep school. Suguru knew things about you that your own parents didn't. They didn't know when you were pretending to be happy, but he did. They didn't know you bounced your leg when you were nervous or giddy, and even if they did, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the different bounces

Then you saw him look at his best friend. But he wasn't only looking and analyzing the way he did his friends. With Gojo, he wasn't simply trying to make sure he was okay; he was also looking to memorize him. For the split second he blinked, his eyes would miss him, so he retained the picture of his visage so that even when he closed his eyes, he would still see his face.

The way you once wanted Suguru to look at you because you had mistaken friendship for love was how Sukuna looked at you now. The moment Sukuna reentered your thoughts, you realized, as your eyes fell to the illuminated screen of your phone telling you it was 11:57, that you had forgotten to text Sukuna.

. . .

Sukuna returned to his escape. You would think that a guy with so many interests would maybe: throw himself at some games, or comics, or math problems, or sports. But when Sukuna was down, he simply did nothing. He clung to his bed sheets like adhesive from a discarded bandage left on skin for far too long. Not ripped off, but fallen because it was simply too tired.

He didn't speak to anyone. Who was there to speak to? He didn't have two parents who were present in his life like yours were. He had Toji but he had screwed things up with him and yelled at him about his relationship woes. That was laughable, seeing that Sukuan couldn't even get the girl he liked to speak to him. He was an ass and he pushed people away for a living.

So he drew his curtains, which were usually open, kept all lights off, door closed, and stayed melted into his bed. He stayed in his room. His safe place would keep him depressed forever. A singular wet sphere of salty liquid dribbled down his cheek, and he told himself that it was because he had yawned.

He figured sleep would be better. There was a place inside his mind where he could go and create a better life for himself, and he would much rather be there right now than in this room, thinking about all the reasons why he was alone that pointed back to him and his pitiful existence.

To make said magical dreams, he needed to think of something. Something he wanted badly. So naturally, the first thing he thought of was you. The house you probably lived in, the many pampering products you probably owned, the maid who cleaned up after you, and the kitchen cabinets you could open without the fear of seeing cockroaches crawl about in your tableware. Scatch that. You probably never stepped foot in your kitchen. You had people for that.

He thought about the parents you went home to. The ones that smiled and didn't hit. The ones that loved and kissed each other and didn't cheat and leave. The nice school you went to. All the other rich friends who liked you. Your perfect grades and your perfect reputation—I don't have a crush on _____, he suddenly realized.

I'm completely consumed with jealousy for her. I am obsessed. I saw her at office hours this morning, looking beautiful as ever, and I wished that I had the guts to go to office hours and ask for help. I saw her helping the club she runs while juggling the two classes we have together, and I was mad at myself for not being able to do the same.

Do I really like her? Or do I want to walk in her skin and be her?

His door then swung open. It was Toji. Of course it was. He looked around took in Sukuna's position, and even picked up on the wet patch on his pillow. Sukuna hadn't even realized he had been crying.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Toji calmly grunted.

Sukuna stayed silent, hidden under his comforter up to his neck, his eyes followed Toji, who simply sat at the edge of his bed. Toji's hand traveled under the sheets to find Sukuna's arms pulling them out and inspecting his forearms.

"Stop, I'm not doin' that anymore. You don’t need to check me like I’m a high schooler anymore,” he assured, still letting Toji calm his nerves by being able to see it for himself.

"Are you sure you're not going to, though? Do I need to check your drawers? Did she call from the center?" he pressed.

"No, God, I just—thought you hated me for the party thing," he admitted.

"Why would I hate you? You were right."

"What?"

"You were right. About all of it. I broke up with Delilah for real this time. I shouldv'e walked her home, and I was an ass for trying to piss you and Delilah off with _____. I’m sorry man. I’m an idiot,” he apologized.

“You were just pissing me off?!”

“ … Yeah? Did _____ not talk to you?” Toji questioned.

“I think she made it very clear she doesn’t want to speak to me at Sal’s. Even had Gojo stop me from entering the room. And she completely ignored the apology in the notebook. I thought that meant something,” Sukuna rambled.

“You must really like her huh?” Toji smiled softly.

Do I? “I don’t know,” he truthfully answered. Toji gave him a confused look.

“I just kind of realized that I’m kind of jealous of her,” he confessed. It felt so good to say it out loud.

“Two things can be true at once. I had no idea you were jealous but, I’ve heard the way you talk about her. We all see the way you look at her like a fuckin’ lost puppy. You like her, Ryo. So maybe you’re jealous of her wealth and her status, but I know you. I know your heart. And I know you like her,” Toji shrugged.

“I thought she liked me too.”

“After our conversation last night, me too. Apparently, she hadn’t even opened the notebook until last night. She didn’t even see your apology,” Toji explained.

“So, why hasn’t she talk spoken to me?” Sukuna though out loud.

With perfect fucking timing because the universe hates Sukuna, he revived a text. He intensely scrambled for his phone fishing in his sheets for it with the fervor of a teenager who had just gotten their sugar plum pussy flavored vape hidden at a sleepover.

You: Hey, can we talk?

Sukuna was now sitting up on his bed. Toji peering over his shoulder. “What are you gonna say?” he questioned.

Ryomen: I’m kind of a mess right now can I meet you somewhere?

“Wow, very venerable of you,” Toji half teased, proud that his friend was being a little more honest with his feelings.

You: I’m in your living-room right now…

Both Sukuna and Toji went straight into pick mode. “Why the fuck?” Toji mumbled.

I was at Sal’s with Gojo and wanted to return Toji’s jacket. I meant to text you today but I got distracted.

They looked at each other and communicated with their eyes.

Ryomen: I can chat but not my room’s a mess.

You: I dont care, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

“I sensed some flirtatiousness in that didn’t you?” Toji asked hyping up Sukuna and patting his chest. He nodded getting a little excited and doing a little shimmy with Toji. They both cleared their throats after a while and zeroed in on the screen.

Ryomen: Come up when you’re ready then :)

“Why the fuck did you add a smiley face? She’s gonna think I’m a creep. That’s how that bitch ass, Gojo, texts in the group chat too,” Sukuna berated.

Toji left the room laughing. Before Sukuna could bolt out after him and punch his ass, you were standing at the door, looking up at the man slightly leaning against the door frame. “Was I interrupting something?” you asked hearing Toji’s laughs from down the hallway.

“Nah, just Toji being an idiot. Typical,” Sukuna rolled his eyes before stepping aside for you to enter the room.

“Alright, Ryomen, just because you have some clothes on the floor and Mountain Dews on your night stand doesn't mean your room is messy," you pointed out, sitting on his bed.

He sat beside you you and chuckled, "You're saying that but your dorm is probably perfect. Nice and clean and organized, pink shit everywhere ..."

"Nah its worse. I have half-finished drinks and unwrapped snacks on my nightsand, way too many Red Bulls on my work desk, and my bed is never made. You could also probably swim through the clothes on my floor right now," you shrugged.

"What."

"What? I can't be good at everything. I just happen to keep my spaces messy when I'm stressed out," you explained.

"Me too," he mumbled looking around his room.

Some silence invaded the space between you before you spoke up, "I'm sorry I didn't look at the note. I'm even more sorry I didn't text you today. I've been busy," you started.

"I should be the one apologizing, _____. I called you a name one should never call a woman. I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. No reasoning can dismiss the fact that I disrespected you.”

“Wow, thank you, Ryomen,” said quietly.

He let a soft sigh. Hearing his name roll off your tongue so beautifully brought Sukuna great comfort. The name he once hated now made him feel most at peace in this moment because you were the one saying it.

“If you still don’t want to forgive me-“ he started before you immediately cut him off, “No, I do. I did last night. Your note was so thoughtful and perfect. I genuinely just got caught up in my day. I wish you would have just told me you were trying to defend me day of. I’m sorry about the matcha by the way and not giving you a chance.”

“Well, this is awkward. I thought I was going to have to give you my first born child for you to tutor me and hang out again,” he joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

You laughed with him, and the two of you talked for a little longer. You absentmindedly began to pick up some clothes and place them in the hamper. Together, without even realizing it, you had cleaned his room, and it was no longer looking as cluttered as it was earlier.

“It’s still 8:00. Do you wanna hit up the library?” Sukuna randomly suggested.

“Possibly. I have my bag,” you shrugged, trying to hide the smile gracing your lips by turning away and facing the door.

Your efforts were lost on Ryomen because he could see your raised cheekbones from behind.

. . .

-> next part

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pohtaytoh · 18 hours ago

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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗬/𝗟/𝗡

*ೃ༄ Megan Skiendiel x f!reader

Everyone ships Megan Skiendiel with your brother Gabriel, convinced they're endgame. He's always taking credit for the sweet gestures that make Megan swoon, and she totally believes he's the one. But you, Y/N Y/L/N, have been secretly head over heels for Megan for years. You're the one leaving those thoughtful gifts and sending those encouraging messages, watching your brother bask in the glory.

But as Megan starts spending more time with you, she can't shake this feeling. Now Megan's wondering if the person she's really meant to be with has been right in front of her all this time.

part: one. two. <three.> four. five. six.

Y/N Y/L/N truly believed it deep in her heart. She was the wrong Y/L/N. The words kept playing over and over in her head, a low, sad hum behind her ears.

Her brother, Gabriel, was the flashy one, the loud one, the one who could charm anyone without even trying, and that included Megan. He was like the sun around whom everyone else seemed to turn and Y/N? She was the quiet one, the one who watched from the edges.

She felt things very deeply, but she kept those feelings locked away, hidden tightly inside. She was the one who loved from the shadows, like an invisible hand giving comfort and doing thoughtful things that Gabriel then simply took credit for.

This had become a pattern, a painful rhythm to her life that had gone on for years, like a broken record playing the same sad song. She felt stuck, always watching, always aching inside. She had almost, almost, started to accept this as her fate.

She told herself, “Just keep loving her from a distance, just keep doing good things in secret, and maybe, just maybe, Megan will always be happy, even if I'm not the one making her happy.”

It was a small, sad comfort she tried to hold onto, a very fragile shield against her own growing heartbreak.

But sometimes, the world has its own plans. Sometimes, even when you think everything is completely set in stone, fixed forever, a tiny, almost invisible crack appears, and through that small crack, a sliver of unexpected light can pour in, bright and surprising.

The change started in a very subtle way. So subtle, in fact, that at first, Y/N barely even noticed it. It wasn't about big, grand gestures anymore. It wasn't about the stolen chai lattes or the study guides Gabriel had claimed as his own. This was something different, something much quieter, much more personal.

Megan was, little by little, starting to seek Y/N out. Not to ask for favors, not to complain about a class, but just to talk. To share thoughts. To just be together.

The very first clear sign came on a Tuesday, late in the afternoon. Y/N was sitting on a simple bench outside the university library, sketching in her old, worn notebook. The air was cool, carrying the familiar smells of damp earth after a light rain and the tempting scent of street food from a nearby vendor.

She was drawing one of the ancient, gnarled mango trees that stood like old guardians all over the campus, focusing on the twisted roots that broke through the concrete walkways. She was completely lost in her own quiet world, the gentle sound of her pencil moving against the paper filling her ears. Then, a soft shadow fell over her page.

"That's really beautiful, Y/N," a soft voice said, making Y/N jump a little. She looked up, startled, to see Megan standing there. Megan had a small, genuine smile on her face.

She wasn't rushing, wasn't looking around for anyone else. She was just… there, standing quietly, looking at Y/N's drawing with true interest.

"The way you captured the roots... They look like old hands reaching up from the ground. I never noticed that about these trees before."

Y/N’s face warmed, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She quickly closed her sketchbook, feeling a sudden wave of shyness. "Oh, thanks, Megan," she mumbled, trying to sound casual. "Just messing around, really. You know, doodling."

Megan shook her head gently. She then moved to sit on the bench beside Y/N, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. "No, seriously," Megan insisted.

"You really see things. You notice details others completely miss. Your brother always just rushes past these trees, always on his phone, probably texting or scrolling. He probably doesn't even know they're here, or how amazing they look."

Megan chuckled softly, a light, airy sound, but there was a hint of something else in her voice – a touch of thoughtful sadness, maybe?

"You really pay attention to the world around you."

That was the first crack in Y/N's carefully built wall. Y/N’s heart did a strange little flip-flop, a dizzying somersault inside her chest. She had to swallow hard to keep her voice steady, to stop herself from showing any sign of the sudden earthquake happening deep inside her.

“She noticed me. She saw me. And she... she compared me to Gabriel. And I came out on top.”

It was a quiet thought, but it vibrated through her whole body, making her feel both incredibly vulnerable and strangely powerful.

After that moment, the "coincidences" started piling up, one after another, until they weren't coincidences at all. Megan would stop by Y/N's dorm room more often. Sometimes it was just for a quick chat before class, a passing "Hey, how's your day going?" But then she'd start to linger.

She’d lean against Y/N's doorframe, then slowly, casually, she would just fall onto Y/N's worn bean bag chair, sprawling out in a relaxed way that showed she felt completely comfortable and at ease there. Then, before Y/N even realized it, hours would melt away as they talked about everything.

One evening, it was raining very hard. Megan knocked softly on Y/N's door, looking a little tired and stressed about a big upcoming philosophy exam.

"Mind if I just... exist in here for a bit?" Megan asked, her voice quiet, rubbing her temples as if trying to soothe a headache. "My roommate is on a super loud video call with her family, and I seriously can't focus on anything."

"Come in, Megs," Y/N said, a warm, soft feeling spreading through her chest at Megan's easy presence. Megan settled onto the beanbag, letting out a long, tired sigh.

"This philosophy stuff is seriously killing me, Y/N," Megan confessed, opening her thick textbook with a groan. "I just don't get it. Like, at all. Gabriel tried to explain it to me earlier, but he just kinda... summarized the slides really fast. I need to understand the why’s, you know? Not just the facts."

Y/N paused from her own reading, setting her book down gently. "Which concept are you stuck on?" she asked softly, truly wanting to help Megan figure it out.

Megan pointed to a confusing paragraph in her textbook. Y/N read it, taking her time, then looked back at Megan with a thoughtful expression.

"Okay, so think of it like this..." And for the next whole hour, Y/N didn't just explain the answers, she broke the confusing ideas down piece by piece, drawing little diagrams on a scrap piece of paper, using simple, everyday examples that made sense. She watched Megan’s eyes closely, seeing the exact moment understanding clicked, like a light suddenly turning on.

"Oh my gosh," Megan breathed, leaning back against the beanbag, a look of pure awe and relief on her face. "Y/N, that actually makes so much sense! Why didn't anyone explain it like that before? Seriously, you make it so clear, even to me."

She shook her head slightly, a small, thoughtful frown appearing on her brow. "Your brother just told me to Google it and then gave up. He said, 'It's just philosophy, Megs, don't sweat it too much.' "

She chuckled softly at the memory but there was a hint of something else in her voice, a touch of disappointment, maybe, or a dawning realization?

"But with you, it’s different. You actually make me think. My brain actually lights up, you know? It's exciting."

Y/N’s heart did that dizzying somersault again, only this time, it felt stronger, more real, like a solid, joyful thump.

She had to swallow hard, fighting back a sudden lump in her throat, a wave of emotion she didn't want to show.

"Yeah?" she managed, trying her best to sound casual, like this was a normal, everyday thing for Megan to say.

"I mean, I just like talking to you, Megs. You have a really interesting way of looking at things. You make me think too. It's cool."

Megan smiled then, a genuine, warm smile that wasn't just on her lips but shone deep in her eyes, making Y/N’s whole world pause and tilt. It was a smile of true connection, a deep, quiet recognition.

"You too, Y/N. You just… get it. Like, you see things that no one else does. You see me.”

The last part was spoken almost to herself, a quiet realization that seemed to ripple through the air between them, making the silence that followed feel deep and meaningful, not awkward at all.

It was as if Megan was discovering a new, important part of herself, a part that was perfectly reflected in Y/N’s quiet understanding and presence.

In that moment, surrounded by the drumming rain and the quiet hum of the university dorm, Y/N felt a connection with Megan that went far beyond any stolen credit or public praise.

It was a raw, real, authentic thread, woven between just the two of them, untouched by outside expectations, untouched by Gabriel's charming but often surface-level presence.

It was a connection that spoke directly to Y/N's pining heart, whispering a dangerous hope. Megan might have believed the world's story about her and Gabriel, but her own heart, it seemed, was starting to whisper a different name. The doubt, however tiny, was beginning to grow in her mind, not about Gabriel being a bad person, but about him truly being the right person for her.

That Gabriel was the wrong Y/L/N all along.

These deep conversations, mixed with moments of easy laughter, started to become a regular thing. Megan would often just appear at Y/N’s door, sometimes with a new book she was excited to talk about, sometimes just to vent about a frustrating class, but always, always, ending up talking about something deeper, something that truly mattered to her.

They’d talk for hours about the complex plots of their favorite true-crime podcasts, debating theories, arguing playfully over who the real suspect was. They’d dive into the hidden meanings of Emily Dickinson’s poems, comparing their favorite verses, discovering new layers together that neither had seen on their own.

Y/N would find herself quoting lines from stanzas, and Megan's eyes would widen in genuine surprise and delight.

"You get that too?" Megan would ask, a rare, unbridled excitement in her voice, leaning closer to Y/N. "I thought I was the only one who saw that! Gabriel just shrugs and says poetry is too deep for him and walks away." There was a little sigh in her voice when she mentioned Gabriel.

One evening, Megan brought over her laptop, looking completely defeated. She was stressed out about a particularly confusing coding problem for a group project, a huge part of her final grade. Gabriel was supposed to be helping her, but he’d "had something come up" – probably another party or a casual hangout with his friends.

Y/N, who had a quiet knack for logic and coding puzzles, even though it wasn't her main subject, just patiently sat with her. She didn’t just give Megan the answers, she gently guided her, step by step, explaining the why behind each line of code, watching as understanding slowly dawned in Megan’s eyes, like a light suddenly coming on in a dark room.

As Megan finally fixed the frustrating bug, a smile lighting up her face, she leaned back, looking at Y/N with a profound, almost reverent appreciation.

"Y/N," she said, her voice soft, filled with wonder. "You're amazing. Seriously. Your brother just tells me to Google things or tries to do it for me, but he never actually explains it. You actually make me understand it. It’s... really cool. You make me feel smart, like I can actually learn this stuff."

Y/N’s stomach fluttered, a rush of warmth spreading through her veins. This was new. This was truly different. Gabriel never made her understand. He just did (or claimed to have done) things, without teaching or truly helping her grow.

The contrast between her conversations with Y/N and her interactions with Gabriel became clearer and clearer to Megan every single day. With Gabriel, it was easy laughter, surface-level fun, and big, obvious gestures that sometimes felt hollow.

He was charming, yes, and always there for a party or a quick favor, but Megan was starting to feel like he was playing a role, like he was always putting on a show for her and for others. With Y/N, it was deep. It was a thoughtful conversation. It was an intellectual challenge and quiet, steady comfort.

It was the feeling of being truly heard, truly seen, not just admired for her soccer skills or her bright smile. It felt real, truly real. Megan was slowly, painfully, starting to grasp the difference, a slow dawning of realization that was hard to ignore.

Y/N, on her part, began to notice Megan watching her, too, not just in passing glances. Sometimes, Y/N would be sketching in her notebook, or quietly humming a song under her breath as she studied, and she’d look up to find Megan’s gaze already on her.

It was a soft, thoughtful look that made Y/N’s cheeks warm and her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the casual glance Megan gave everyone else, it was something deeper, more intense, a look filled with curiosity and a growing warmth that felt almost like a touch. It was a look that made Y/N’s heart pound a desperate rhythm against her ribs, a rhythm that was both terrifying and utterly exhilarating.

Then came the moment that felt like a quiet explosion, a turning point that would change everything, a conversation that echoed the exact pain Y/N had felt for so long from Gabriel’s thoughtless actions. They were sitting outside, on a surprisingly warm afternoon in late November, beneath one of those old mango trees whose roots twisted like ancient veins above the ground.

The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange and purple. They were talking about their dreams for the future, something Y/N rarely shared with anyone, especially not Gabriel, who usually just joked about getting rich and famous without much effort.

Megan was quiet for a moment, tracing patterns on the ground with her finger, a thoughtful frown on her face. Then she looked up.

"Y/N," she began, her voice low and steady, almost a whisper that carried immense weight. "Do you ever feel like... like you're talking to someone, but they're not really hearing you? Like they're just waiting for their turn to talk, or they only hear what they want to hear, or what benefits them?" She looked straight into Y/N's eyes, searching for understanding.

Y/N froze, her blood turning to ice, then back to fire, burning with a new kind of intensity. This was it. This was the conversation she’d always both dreaded and secretly longed for. It was the moment the hidden pain of years might finally be revealed.

"Yeah," Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper, the word catching in her throat, a lump forming. "Yeah, Megs, I know exactly what you mean. It's... it's really frustrating. It feels very lonely."

Megan nodded slowly, her eyes wide, searching Y/N’s face for understanding, for shared experience, for a sign that Y/N truly knew this feeling.

"With you," she said, her voice filled with a profound softness that made Y/N’s breath hitch, "it's never like that. You actually listen. You remember things I say, even the small ones. You… you just get me. Like, even the weird, small parts of me that I don't show anyone else. The parts that like poetry and get stressed about philosophy and worry about the future and what comes next." She paused again, then a small, sad smile touched her lips, a deep regret shadowing her eyes.

"I actually feel more like myself when I'm with you than I do... with anyone else. It's like I can finally breathe."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning, with years of hidden longing finally being acknowledged, even if Megan didn't fully realize the full depth of what she was saying, or the full impact of her words on Y/N.

Y/N’s heart was absolutely pounding. It felt like it might burst right out of her chest, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. This was everything she had ever hoped for, and everything she had ever feared. Megan was seeing her. Truly seeing her, for the first time. Not just as Gabriel's sibling, not just as a classmate, but as Y/N, the person who understood her.

Megan then sighed, a small, thoughtful sound, a new kind of doubt clouding her usual bright eyes. "It's weird," she continued, almost to herself, her voice tinged with a confusion Y/N recognized.

"Gabriel's great, he's so much fun, but... sometimes it feels like he's acting or like he's just playing a part that he thinks everyone wants to see. Like he just knows how to make everyone think he's thoughtful, but... it doesn't always feel real, you know? It's like a shallow pond, pretty but not deep."

Her eyes met Y/N's again, a hint of deep realization, and a touch of hurt, slowly dawning in them. "But with you, it's always real. Always. You’re... just you. And that's... everything."

Y/N could only stare back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, the emotions too big, too overwhelming to contain. This was everything she had ever hoped for, and everything she had ever feared.

The confession hung in the air, a fragile, beautiful thing, a delicate bubble that might pop if she breathed too hard. It felt like a missing piece of a puzzle had finally snapped into place, not just for Y/N, but for Megan too, revealing a beautiful picture neither of them had fully seen before.

Megan wasn't talking about romance yet, not with direct words, but she was talking about a connection, a deep, undeniable pull towards Y/N’s true self, a bond that ran far deeper than any superficial charm.

Her heart ached, not with sadness this time, but with a mix of hope and vulnerability. Hope that this quiet shift meant something more, something real and lasting. Fear that it might all disappear, or that the full truth about Gabriel, and Y/N’s own hidden feelings, would cause more pain than she could possibly bear.

Yet in that moment, under the old mango tree, with Megan looking at her with such raw honesty, with her usual dazzling eyes now filled with a new kind of wonder, Y/N felt hope bloom in her chest.

Megan might have believed the world's story about her and Gabriel, but her own heart, it seemed, was starting to whisper a very different name – a name that was, finally, Y/N’s own.

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#katseye #megan skiendiel #katseye megan x reader #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye megan

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lifewastedinbarswithboys · 3 days ago

Text

Old Friends - V.V.

Ville is back in Finland after a long period of separation, leaving the two of you wondering how to deal with your situation.

warnings: nsfw smut, fingering, unprotected sex, age gap, orgasm denial, mentions of violence, fluff

word count: 10.6k

ville valo x reader

dedicated to my dear friend missy who motivated me to write this in 3 days, love you

_ _

It was 12pm on a normal Sunday afternoon. It was the summer of 2013 before you were going back to college and you were staying at your dad’s house because you missed home. The sun shone on your face as you got up from your white comforter and went into the kitchen to say good morning to your dad.

As you walked into the kitchen, you saw your dad reading the newspaper; Reading glasses pressed at the tip of his nose.

“Well look who finally woke up!” Your dad reached his arms out to hug you and laughed as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“Up reading Dostoyevsky again?” He raised an eyebrow.

You laughed as you poured yourself a glass of orange juice and prepared a plate of the pancakes and bacon he had made for breakfast.

“What’s got you so happy today?” You replied.

“You remember my old friend Ville, right? Singer of my favorite band of all time…” He said jokingly as he flipped the page of his newspaper.

“Oh, yeah. Kind of.” You quizzically replied.

You had not seen Ville in over 5 years, he had moved to the U.S. to work on his past album and travel away from Finland for a while.

Your dad got up from his chair and headed towards his room as he shouted, “Well he’s coming over in an hour, try to act nice!”

You wanted to say something else, but he was already in his room so you just went to your own.

After taking a hot shower and cleaning yourself up, you put on some light makeup and tried to pick a cute outfit out of the clothes you had.

“Why am I even doing this? It’s just Ville.” You mumbled to yourself as you threw the clothes you picked on the floor and slipped on the oversized t-shirt you had on before.

Soon after, you heard the door open and Ville and your dad laughing as they went and sat in the living room.

“Y/N, come say hi!!” your dad called out and you groaned slightly to yourself.

—

As you walked out into the living room, you saw Ville taking a sip of scotch as his eyes met yours.

He put down his cup and coughed quietly.

“Hey Y/N, it’s been a while, how’s life been treating you?” Ville said with a soft smile.

“Pretty good, next year I finish school and finally graduate university… just trying to relax before going back.” You replied as you took a seat 5 feet away from him on the leather sofa.

As your dad continued talking to Ville about your education, everything was muffled as you took a closer look at Ville. His hair had grown out quite a bit under his hat and he had more tattoos. He was wearing a black Sisters of Mercy t-shirt that was tight on his biceps, which complimented him quite well. As you felt your chest becoming hot, Ville looked up at you.

“The Cure, huh?” You like them? He raised an eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.” You replied nonchalantly, hoping he didn’t notice you losing your composure as you stared at him, too entranced in his new look to be focused on anything else.

“Really? I didn’t know you and I had the same music taste. It seems you’ve grown into a woman with great taste.” Ville said assuringly.

“So Ville, tell me more about touring in the West…” your dad continued talking to Ville and he gave you a sweet smile before turning to look at him and continue their conversation.

You slipped into the kitchen to pour yourself a shot and downed it before retreating to your room.

When you returned, you quickly went to look at yourself in the mirror. You saw that your cheeks were flushed, and your pupils were wide. Ashamed, you fell into your bed and buried your face in your pillow, heavy breathing as you fought the urge to scream directly into it.

Why were you feeling this way? Ville was practically always around during your formative years, and you didn’t care much for him, nor paid much attention to him. But suddenly your heart was feeling like it was beating out of your chest. He was, attractive? To you now? You wanted it to stop. It felt too wrong. He was good friends with your dad, what would he even think if he noticed how you were acting around Ville. You knew you had to stay away from him. There was no way this was going to progress any further than from your own thoughts. It couldn’t continue and make you appear like you had a little crush on the outside. You had to keep it all inside, safe from absolutely anyone who would notice your feelings. Especially Ville.

Suddenly you heard a light knock on your door.

“What is it?” you said in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Your father told me to say goodbye, I’ll probably be back for a drink with him again soon. It was nice seeing you Y/N.” Ville said after he opened the door halfway and gave you a slight smile before shutting it again.

“Nice seeing you too.” You tried to reply back to him, but the door was already closed and Ville had already walked away.

As you tried to distract yourself with your book, “The Brothers Karamazov” by Dostoyevsky, another knock came at your door an hour later. Your dad opened the door and what he said made your eyes widen.

“I told Ville about how you were trying to buy more CDs, but couldn’t because you’re short on money… and, well, if you’re interested, he told me he’s willing to pay you if you help him move back into his house. He said that he’s back living in Finland and it’s not just a visit this time!” He said with enthusiasm.

“Wait? What?!” You didn’t sound very excited, if anything, it came off as worried.

“What’s wrong? It sounded like a nice thing, Y/N. Just give him a chance. I know you don’t like him all that much, but he’s trying to slowly integrate himself back into his old life here. It’ll make me happy, how about that?” He sighed.

Now you knew you couldn’t turn down this offer. First of all, your dad would not let this go. He would most definitely remind you about it constantly when you complained about not having every single Lana Del Rey CD. Second of all, even you knew this was a good offer from Ville. You needed the money, and if all you needed to do was help him move back into his old house, so be it. Sounded easy enough.

Flashbacks of Ville’s smile replayed in your head, and visions of how his arms looked in that shirt clouded your judgement once again.

“Fine, I’ll take him up on his offer.” You sarcastically replied as you turned your eyes back to your book.

“Great, I’ll text him and tell him that you’re okay with it. Tomorrow sound good? Cool.” He shut your door without even waiting for your response.

You panicked and sat up on your bed. Tomorrow? You literally just saw Ville for the first time in 5 years. What were you even going to talk about? How were you going to keep your cool around him after what happened today? The worst part about it, is that you didn’t even realize how you reacted to seeing him today. Tomorrow would be worse, you thought. As these thoughts and fears consumed you, you fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of nothing until the morning.

—

You woke up the next morning to a dark thunderstorm outside. You rose from your bed as the raindrops hit your window softly as you got ready, accepting your fate. You were going to meet with Ville today. Alone.

You picked out a simple outfit for the day, a black skirt, a blue button up long sleeve, blue converse, and your heart locket attached around your neck that was gifted to you some years ago for your birthday.

As you were applying your lip gloss, you heard a notification come from your phone.

An unknown number had sent you a text, it read,

“Hello. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Ville.”

Immediately your cheeks felt hot. How did he get your number? 20 minutes left until you were alone in a car with Ville. It didn’t even feel real. Why you were reacting this way didn’t even feel real. The sudden attraction towards Ville was so wrong, yet you couldn’t help but feel some type of way towards him.

“Okay” was all you could respond with before you threw your phone across the room and feverishly drank out of your water bottle.

It wasn’t long before you got another notification.

“Here.” Ville replied, and you peeked out the window to see the 1962 Mercedes Benz parked outside your house.

You swallowed your spit before leaving your house and rushing to the car in the rain.

—

As you fell into the passenger seat, Ville turned towards you. He was wearing a black blazer with blue jeans and a black scarf around his neck. Once again, he was wearing his grandpa hat while his brown hair was freely let down underneath.

“I could’ve brought you an umbrella, y’know?” He laughed out loud.

“Whatever. Don’t look at me.” You said sarcastically before letting out a small laugh.

“Wasn’t looking!” Ville exclaimed before turning up the radio and driving away from your house.

No one was talking in the car. It felt a bit awkward, but you had to suck it up. “Well I Wonder” by The Smiths was playing, and you tried to just enjoy the song as you gazed out the window, trying your best not to look at Ville.

“You like this song?” Ville said.

You turned your head to answer him, Ville was looking straight at the road as his left hand was on the steering wheel and his right was adhered to the stick shift.

“Yeah, I do. I have the CD at home.” You replied, still looking at him, gazing at his flawless side profile.

“As do I.” Ville smiled, turning to you for just a second before looking back at the road.

You looked away before it could be considered staring, and tried to think about how you were going to act this time around.

Calm and composed. Right.

After some time had passed you arrived at Ville’s house.

“Well, all the shit’s in the garage.” He grunted as he turned off the car and stepped out.

You stayed seated there for a moment, admiring the pretty gothic tower.

Ville walked behind the car and surprised you by opening the car door for you, waiting for you to step out.

“It’s only polite.”

You slowly stepped out and nodded at him in thanks.

Ville was unpacking boxes, most of the furniture was already in place and he was just adding finishing touches.

“Do you remember who gave you that locket?” Ville said, still unpacking.

“No, all I know is it was a gift.”

Ville smirked. “Yeah, a gift from me.”

You stood there, as he took the locket into his hand and then let it go, letting it fall back on your neck.

You blushed as you fidgeted with the locket. “Seriously? I had no idea it was from you. It came as a gift from my dad, he said that he wasn’t going to tell me who it was from.”

“Well now you know.” Ville slightly smirked at you before going into the garage to unpack.

You and Ville had finished unpacking his belongings and the sun was setting as the rain stopped.

Ville had led you into the patio area by your waist where he poured two glasses of red wine and offered one to you.

“Would you be interested in going CD shopping... with me? I feel bad just giving you the cash and letting you run free, we shouldn’t be transactional, should we?” Ville looked down at you with a smile.

Ville. You. CD shopping. He was already near breaking down any restraint you had built for yourself. You knew this wasn’t a good idea by any means, the plan was to get the money and leave him alone, but as your gaze shifted to his big strong hands adorned with silver rings, there was no way you were going to let him go.

“Heyyy, Y/N, something wrong?” Ville looked at you concerningly.

“No, nothing at all. That sounds nice. I’ll go with you.” You stuttered slightly before regaining your breath.

Ville looked at his silver watch and rose from his seat.

“I should take you home. It’s already almost 9pm.” Ville said with a loud sigh.

“You’re right.” You didn’t even realize how much time had passed since you first met up with Ville today, maybe it was just you. Maybe he didn’t even want to hangout with you. In actuality, maybe it was him just doing a nice thing because of your dad, or maybe he genuinely cared to keep you safe. There was no way of knowing. Ville was stoic. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling at all. It felt embarrassing for you, it was hard to keep your emotions in check and not to show how you truly felt on the outside. Not to mention these feelings you had for him weren’t even rational. It felt wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Ville walked to the car and didn’t open the door for you this time, he just sat in the driver’s seat without a word and turned up the radio as he drove 20 miles over the speed limit back to your house.

What was up with him? You thought to yourself. He was acting quite sweet until just 5 minutes ago, now he was acting more cold than ever. This was a new side of him that you had yet to see before. It scared you a bit, but it confused you more than ever.

Ville lit a cigarette and continued staring at the road without making any conversation with you, and you did the same. Maybe he noticed your stares and saw how you looked at him. A firm pit in your stomach grew as you started to feel nauseous from anxiety. Soon enough, you approached your driveway and Ville turned the music down as he stopped the car.

He looked over to you and looked down before he would be staring for too long.

“I’ll text you about CD shopping tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” Ville said firmly.

“Oh, goodnight.” You replied softly before opening the door and heading to your front door.

You looked back to see if he was still there, but his car was already gone.

The pit in your stomach grew, and you started to feel bad about whatever you did to make him act so cold towards you.

—

You opened the door and all of the lights were already turned off. You headed for your room and fell onto your bed when you got a notification.

“Come out come out Y/N, I’m at the end of your street”

The text came from your ex-boyfriend Antto, whom you were technically broken up with, yet he continued to randomly ask to meet up with you in the middle of the night once in a blue moon.

You still had some feelings for him, you weren’t sure if it was love or limerence, but you went through with the request all the same.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea anyway, you needed a distraction from your mind running wild about Ville. Something. To stop this irrational stupid crush that was going to ruin you.

No reply was necessary, after about 10 minutes you left your house and walked towards the end of your neighborhood by the bright streetlight slowly, trying to take all of your attention off of Ville from your sick mind.

As you neared the corner, Antto rolled down the window and smirked at you before getting out of his car and embracing you with full force.

“Missed me?” He said, laughing.

“Maybe, just a little.” You replied back to him, soft spoken with a hint of false enthusiasm in your tone.

Antto smelled of manly pride and weed, and that combination was not one your father would be proud of you being involved with.

Without a response, he lead you into the passenger seat and turned the radio up as his lips began to graze your neck with small, light kisses before turning into painful sucking, slowly becoming small, subtle bruises.

You closed your eyes as your head went back from the mixture of intense pleasure and pain.

While all of this was happening, a part of your mind was flooded with thoughts of Ville. He was way more experienced, you thought. Antto was the only man you’ve ever been involved with sexually, and the sex seemed like it was only pleasurable for him, while he completely ignored how it made you feel.

Antto began passionately kissing you as his hands traveled down to the hem of your skirt.

“Wearing a black leather skirt hmm? Was this all for me?” He whispered crudely as he bit your bottom lip softly.

No reply was needed, you just let him continue on with the illusion that you picked this outfit for him, while all you could think about was Ville and imagine those words coming from his lips.

You two weren’t exactly in private, the streetlight illuminating the car as everything was on display for anyone who would walk out and possibly watch, embarrassingly enough.

Antto continued putting his hands up your skirt, and he kept going further down until he reached your panties.

You were increasingly wet now, and he began to finger you while giving you sloppy neck kisses. But you weren’t pent up because of Antto, no, you weren’t able to keep your mind from wandering to how much better this would be if it was Ville touching you this way.

As you neared your climax, Antto suddenly stopped and grabbed your face hard.

“Who is he?” He barked at you.

Unable to reply from the harsh grasp he had on you, Antto used his other hand grab your neck and smash your face directly against the dashboard, leaving you seeing stars.

“I know you, Y/N, you’ve never reacted this way before with me. And I never gave you permission to see anyone else.” He grabbed your hair with his fist and pulled you close, forehead to forehead, forcing you to look at him.

“N-nobody! There’s nobody. Please STOP! You’re hurting me.” You whimpered.

“Y’know, you’re not fooling anybody. I can see right through you. You’re pathetic. Get the fuck out and go home. Now. This isn’t over.” Antto gave you one last blow to your forearm, leaving your vein pulsing before opening your side of the car door and shoving you out onto the road before swerving out of the neighborhood. You were left on the pavement, struggling to breathe, filled with adrenaline from the shock. You knew this was going to hurt in the morning, so you tried your best to get home safely with the strength you had left before anyone found you lying on the asphalt.

—

Ville’s POV:

Ville felt so torn. Having intense feelings for a woman he’s known since she was a young teenager? The daughter of his close friend? It felt so incredibly wrong. Yet he couldn’t quite get rid of the emotions he had for you.

Since the moment he noticed how nervous you acted around him that morning he came over, all he could think about was the way you looked at him with such admiration.

Was it wrong to assume you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you?

It seemed so.

It wasn’t worth anything anyways. Nothing could happen between the two of you. It had to be strictly friendship. And stay that way.

Originally, the CD/moving in unpacking idea was your father’s, funny enough. Ville had turned it down until he heard about how you didn’t have the money to buy music you enjoyed. And somewhere in his cold heart, wanted to make you happy. So he agreed.

“Something to get her out of the house, I need alone time too, you know, she’s a grown-up now. Yet it seems she doesn’t do much. Sometimes I’m concerned, if she’s doing okay, if there’s something I don’t know about. You understand, right?” Your father had said, partially laughing but with some seriousness in his tone.

“She’s a good kid.” Ville replied before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“Not a kid anymore, I know it’s been a while, Ville, but you must know by now that she’s an adult. I’m concerned if something’s going on with her that I don’t know about. She seems more reserved now. Try cheering her up? Would you?” Your dad whispered, making sure you wouldn’t hear.

“Okay. Okay. We acted that way at her age too. We both understand that everyone keeps things private from their parents. It’s only natural.” Ville replied softly.

“You’re right, thank you for this. I owe you big time. Here’s her number, I’ll tell her tonight that you agreed to take her shopping in exchange for helping you unpack. She’ll be more than happy to join you!” Your dad smiled before giving your contact information to Ville, where he wrote it down on a small piece of paper he found in his pocket.

That night, Ville found himself lying down flat on his sofa, deep in thought because of you. He was smiling to himself, thinking about how cute you looked in your pajamas earlier that day. As Ville ran his hands through his long curly hair, he fantasized about all of the possibilities if only you weren’t the daughter of one of his friends. It sounded a little like a joke, but he began to feel a pit of guilt in his stomach thinking about you. Ville thought hard about you before drifting into sleep eventually, late into the night.

The next morning, Ville woke up in a sweat. Nightmares, again?

These nightmares only occurred when Ville was feeling guilty about something. And this time, it was happening because of you.

“How fucking stupid.” Ville thought to himself. He usually got whatever he wanted. But it was different now with you. He couldn’t have you. No matter how badly he wanted you. But he had to focus, today he was going to pick you up and try his best not to crash from nervous ticks.

Ville got ready and mentally prepared himself for this little date with you. At least that’s how he considered it in his filthy little mind. Instead of guilt, he felt his stomach turn from nervousness. Ville took one last look at himself in the mirror before heading to his car, before heading to you.

He took the piece of paper out from his jean pocket and texted you that he was on his way over. It was a little weird that you didn’t know how he got your number, but Ville found it a bit funny, he hoped he surprised you even a little, if he wasn’t being delusional that maybe you felt anything for him at all.

Ville put his phone away before driving over to your place in the rain. He considered turning back, but he knew he had to keep up his word with your father. It would be rude to cancel and disappoint you, too. Ville groaned to himself in defeat before texting you that he had arrived.

When you had sat down in his car, Ville tried his best to keep his cool and keep his eyes off of you. He knew you looked stunning, and tried so hard to not pay much attention to you, in fear of making you uncomfortable.

This was a new feeling for Ville, it wasn’t everyday that a girl caught his attention that wasn’t throwing herself at him. It didn’t seem like you cared much for him at all. And he didn’t know how to handle that. Worst thing he could do right now was be awkward and make you feel uncomfortable, so he turned up the radio and tried his best to make casual conversation with you without turning his eyes towards you.

When you had both arrived at his house, things felt more familiar for Ville. He loosened up and now he had no choice but to look at you. By this point he had already accepted his fate, being courteous was the only correct option, and Ville most definitely didn’t want you to hate him.

But it was so fucking hard for him. The way you looked at him when he was showing you souvenirs from the U.S., made his heart race and he had hoped you were lightening up around him.

Ville noticed the little things, like the way you looked down whenever he would make eye contact with you for prolonged periods, and the way he saw you from the corner of your eye looking at him longer than it would be considered normal.

And whenever you looked away, Ville took it upon himself to get a good look at you and admire you. Black clothing on a woman was his weakness, and the fact you were wearing a skirt didn’t make it any easier for him. Ville felt his jeans get tight around his crotch, and hoped you didn’t notice when he would randomly go to the other room to unpack more of his belongings and try to calm himself down.

The little hand touches whenever Ville would give you something to look at, when he couldn’t hold himself back from touching your waist, it drove him crazy. All he wanted to do was feel your skin. Bare, against his. He wanted to hold and protect you, for he knew deep down that something was torturing you inside. What that was, how could he know? But one thing about Ville, he would find out anything, if he wanted to know that badly. And he wanted you badly. He wanted to know everything about you. And he soon would.

Suddenly that same feeling of guilt came over Ville, and the only way to stop it was to get you out of his sight. He noticed you were feeling more hesitant around him now, and the thought that you could possibly be afraid of him now because of his behavior made his anxiety run high. As Ville was taking you home, his emotions were going wild. Yet you were still in the same vicinity as him, and his desire for you combined with his lack of control over himself forced him to keep quiet until he could finally be alone. Ville hoped you wouldn’t take the sudden urgency to bring you home the wrong way, but even he knew his emotions were heightened and erratic. It would become dangerous if you stayed another hour, alone with him.

As soon as you got out of his car, Ville drove to a secluded area not too far from your home. He got out of the car immediately and slammed the door. He lit a cigarette and began to pace back and forth, hoping it would stop the guilty feeling from creeping up again.

Ville began thinking rational thoughts again, and as soon as he realized how he just treated you with such contempt, he knew he had to make things right. Ville quickly got back into the car and was nearing your street as he saw you leave your house. He quickly drove somewhere where he could watch without being seen. After all, this is what he needed. To know you. If that meant stalking you from afar to understand how you acted alone, he didn’t mind crossing a few boundaries. As Ville followed you with his eyes, he noticed a figure in a black car approach you and felt his chest get hot. This feeling was different, it was jealousy. All this time he had just a small amount of hope that you had any sense of attraction to him, was fading. You two had just spent the day together, and not even 20 minutes later, you were meeting up with another guy. It wasn’t his place to feel jealous anyway. He had no business watching you in the first place. A normal person would’ve left and gone home, but this is what Ville Valo wanted to know all this time. What had been torturing you for years. What had changed you and made you secluded from everyone and everything in your life. What he really wanted was to understand you.

The streetlight was making it easier for Ville to keep his eyes on you, and he watched from a distance as you were making out with another guy. He turned his music up slightly and stared at your face as you lost yourself in the presence of the mysterious person. Suddenly Ville felt his dick in his jeans growing achingly harder than before, and he imagined how good it would feel to be the one to pick you up in the middle of the night and do those same things to you. Ville unbuckled his jeans and slid them down slightly to reveal his hard cock, already dripping with precum through his boxers as he palmed himself and groaned at the feeling of finally being able to touch himself to your face. You were completely on display, for his own viewing pleasure. Ville wanted so badly to be the one to make you feel good and make you cum on his fingers. He continued to touch himself through his boxers and started to moan louder, biting his lip and closing his eyes to muffle his sounds. As he was reaching his own climax. Before he could reach his peak, Ville suddenly looked back at you. The last thing he saw was your face being crushed against the dashboard and soon after being thrown onto the road. He felt like absolute shit, all this time he was watching you being touched by another man instead of intervening. It was so selfish of him.

As much as he wanted to so badly, at this exact moment Ville knew he couldn’t help you. The guilt from the way he treated you in the car combined with his now borderline stalking, would make for a worse situation. All he could do was make sure you got home safe.

That night when Ville got home, he took a warm bath and stayed up until the sunrise. He had to figure out how to make things right with you. But now more than ever, Ville knew he needed to protect you.

—

Your POV:

As you stumbled back into your room, you could barely even walk as you tried to catch your breath. The events that took place over the past two days have been too much for you to handle. First it was finding out Ville Valo was now incredibly sexy to you, then he made you feel rejected more than before, and now it was being thrown into the road like a piece of trash. You felt broken. No one cared, or noticed how you were feeling. As you winced and cried trying to get into bed, you wished Antto had killed you right then and there. It was better than feeling like a throw away. You sobbed into your pillow and tried to scream, but couldn’t get it out as your voice was breaking at every cry. Even though you were crying endlessly, you felt so much rage and pain that you were numb. You sunk your face into your pillow, and cried yourself to sleep that night.

You woke up the next day. Late afternoon, 3pm to be exact. As you got out of bed, your body felt incredibly sore and you went to your mirror to look at yourself. Hair tangled, face red from crying the night before, and body covered in purple bruises from the pain inflicted by Antto.

You went to the bathroom to take a warm shower and tried to get yourself looking presentable again. It helped a bit, but your body was still incredibly sore.

You put on a hoodie and sweats before crawling back into bed, listening to HIM’s “Tears on Tape” record that Ville had released a month ago. You had never been one to listen to Ville’s band’s music, but you found yourself adding some songs to your playlist and relating to his lyrics. It cheered you up a little, and then you received a text message from Ville.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. I hope I can make it up to you today. Would you want to go out today? I can take you to that one record store I talked about yesterday… if you’d be interested?”

Your heart sank, but you wanted nothing more than to be with Ville right now. He made you feel good about yourself. And after last night, you needed a lot of reassurance to make you feel better again.

“Sure. When can you come pick me up?” You texted back.

After about 10 minutes, Ville replied back, “In about an hour okay?”

You smiled at your phone before responding, “Yes, that’s fine.”

You couldn’t change into what you really wanted to wear to see him, he couldn’t see your bruises. You settled for black flare jeans and a tight long sleeve purple shirt. It sufficed, if you wore sweatpants and a hoodie it would look a little off. Keeping up the act of being your normal self would be the real challenge. As you sat down to try to do some makeup, you winced as a tear came down your cheek from the pain of the bruises. You had to get better at hiding this. You put on a small amount of makeup and painted your lips slightly red to hide your busted lip best you could.

About an hour had passed, and this time Ville called you and said he was outside before hanging up. Your heart beat outside of your chest and you took a deep breath before opening the door and trying to make it to Ville’s car without falling over.

This time the weather was cloudy, but at least it wasn’t pouring down rain like yesterday. You kept your head down before getting into Ville’s ‘62 Benz, you couldn’t help but smile at him. He was wearing an all black outfit, his leather jacket scuffed up with his hair down, messed up just perfectly with his hands adorned in his silver rings that he never took off. He smirked back at you, and turned the music down slightly.

“You ready?” He said.

You nodded before Ville sped off to your destination. You felt better now that you two were okay now, and shamelessly stared at his hands practically the entire 20 minute drive.

—

“I listened to your record this morning.” You broke the silence.

“Oh really?” Ville said with surprise. “What did you think of it?”

“I loved it. It made me feel a lot better. And I don’t even listen to your band.” You replied back before Ville laughed at your sarcastic comment and turned to you.

“Reaaally. Well I’m glad it could drown your sorrows a bit Y/N. Recording it helped me do that. I guess we have more in common than you thought?” Ville said, giggling before he pulled in to park at the record store. “Wait there, close your eyes.”

—

You laughed before covering your eyes with your hands, “Closing!” Ville got out of the car and opened the trunk, then walked over to open the door for you and took your hand to help you stand up.

“You can open them now.”

Ville was holding a signed CD of the new record and a small concealed gift bag in the other.

“Oh my god, a signed CD from THE Ville Valo? Help me please, I’m gonna faint!” You sarcastically said while he stood there, smiling at you the same way he was before.

A few seconds later, you took a closer look at the gift bag in his other hand, and he held the bag out for you and you took it before opening it slowly. Inside, there was rose petals and a small gift box with a black ribbon around it with a note attached.

“Go ahead, open it.” Ville said kindly. “But not the note, read that later.” He sweetly smiled. You couldn’t tell what he even meant by this, you never knew if he was just being nice or if he was trying to flirt with you. That part of him made you fall harder though, and the smile on your face was undeniable when you opened up the gift box and saw the dainty silver heart locket necklace, glittering in the light.

“What?! You got this for me? What did I even do to deserve this gift? I love it, thank you Ville.” You stared at in awe for a while before looking back up at him as he towered over you. You never noticed how tall he really was, and you blushed before looking away just for a second from his intense gaze.

“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything to deserve gifts, Y/N.” Ville replied softly before using his hand to push your hair behind your ear and pull you into a hug. He caressed your hair slightly and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away and gently tapping your back to lead you into the record store.

—

This felt so natural, you and Ville. Doubt started to leave your mind, and you smiled to yourself as your stomach filled with butterflies at the thought that he could ever feel the same way about you. You wanted to initiate something, but if it backfired, the consequences of losing Ville forever were infinitely worse. And even worse than that, your dad would be confused about why Ville couldn’t ever come back to your house to see him. He would probably annoy you with a million questions, and probably ask if Ville hurt you or something. So you kept your fantasies to yourself and let him take the lead. If only you could read what this note said, that was the real mystery of the day.

Ville held the door for you and guided you by your waist for a moment before walking into the record store like he owns the place. You browsed around, trying to navigate around the shop and find CDs of your favorite bands.

“Aren’t you afraid someone may recognize you around here, Ville? Have you forgotten you’re one of the most famous people in this city?” You laughed as you bumped into his arm as he was focused on looking through the vinyls.

“No, and if anything, I’d probably scare them off. I’m with a beautiful woman at an underground record store, they know when to back off and keep their distance.” Ville looked down at you with a smirk before leading you off to another room in the shop.

The eternal pit that lingered in your stomach every time you were around Ville was practically stabbing you now, enough to keep you from thinking about what Antto did to you last night. You so badly wanted to tell Ville about what happened, but you knew you were couldn’t lie about the full extent of what happened before you got thrown out of Antto’s car.

“This is what I really wanted to show you.” Ville pulled you into the separate room full of shiny new vinyls and CDs. “Not exactly open to the public, but I’m good friends with the owner so I’m free to come as I please.”

He took your hand and held it firmly as he walked towards the wall of CDs.

“This what you were looking for?” Ville looked down at you and smirked playfully as you neared the section designated for Lana CDs.

“How’d you know?” You looked up at him in astonishment as you looked through the records, his grasp on your hand loosening slightly at your excited response to his surprise.

“Well… your father told me the other day, and I knew you’d like her. I don’t listen to her often, but I can appreciate her artistry.” Ville took your hand and gave it a soft kiss before letting you have free rein around the shop. After a while you had picked what you wanted, and you left the store with a huge smile before getting back in the car with him.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Ville asked in a gentle tone as he turned on the car.

“Of course not. And how could I act so cold after you showered me with gifts?” You replied, smiling, and he smiled back eagerly before turning up the Sinatra record.

Ville didn’t tell you where you were going, but you didn’t care. These few days of getting to know him have been perfect. It felt weird, still remembering that same feeling you had when you first saw him only a couple days ago. The immediate feelings that flooded from a simple gaze of his beautiful green eyes were enough to understand that you would let him kill you if he wanted to. Still looking at the road, you were looking out the window deep in thought when Ville took your hand and kept it on your thigh. You looked over at him from the suddenness of it all, and he was humming to the record with a smirk on his face when you finally noticed him.

Today was insane, there was no other way to describe how unreal it felt in the moment. But you started to feel content, rather than nervous. You felt comfortable with Ville, and he made you feel more loved than anyone ever has.

You started to recognize where you were going, Ville’s beautiful gothic tower covered with vines. Ville parked the car and you both got out and he led you inside.

—

You quickly plopped yourself down on the sofa as Ville took out a record he bought at the shop, he put on Disintegration by The Cure and sat himself next to you. Standing for too long hurt your body, and you winced slightly, hoping Ville wouldn’t notice. But he was way too observant not to.

“You okay, Y/N?” Ville looked at you with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little sore. I slept weird last night.” You lied, not even knowing why you even wanted to keep the truth from him.

“I know you’re lying, Y/N. Don’t lie to me. I have to confess something to you.” Ville seriously replied. No anger in his tone, only genuine concern.

Your stomach dropped. “And what is that?”

“I saw what happened last night. I felt bad for how I acted, and came back to come apologize to you. Then… I stayed and watched everything. I wanted to help, Y/N, I really did. I didn’t want to seem invasive, and I felt too guilty with how I treated you. I’m sorry. I should’ve helped you. And whoever that guy is, I’ll beat him bloody, if I have to.” Ville answered, a hint of rage growing in his tone as he remembered the scene.

“No, Ville. I’m fine. I’m sorry myself. I don’t know why I went out to meet him. I shouldn’t have, I just couldn’t stop myself. I felt so upset after last night, I thought it would be better… I thought he would be better. I don’t know why I keep trying to make things work with him. I don’t even truly like him. I thought I did, but I was just trapped.” Tears started to form as you let out what you’ve been keeping inside in front of Ville.

Ville wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“I know baby, I know. Come here. You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. That guy is a sick man. You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t need to keep lying to me, I’m here. I want to know you, I want to know your deepest fears and desires. But most importantly, I want to protect you. And I will do anything it takes to keep you safe, with or without me being around. That’s a promise.” Ville answered, looking you in your eyes and wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Ville, I have something to confess too.” You took his hand from your face and put it on your thigh.

“Just say the word, Y/N.” Ville looked down at his hand and back up at you.

Seconds later, you wrapped your arms around Ville’s neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He smelled of leather and cigarettes the closer you got, and the kiss was passionate with all tongue and teeth. Ville’s hands traveled up to your hips as he picked you up and you were now straddling him.

Your hands were now wrapped in his soft hair, tugging tightly when you pulled away and buried your face in his neck.

“Ville, is this okay?” You sighed heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“Why wouldn’t it be, my love?” He whispered in your ear as he started kissing your neck, leaving faint bruises from his passionate sucking.

A chill went down your spine and you whimpered quietly at the pleasure of him licking and kissing the sensitive parts of your neck like he had kissed you hundreds of times before.

Ville pulled your neck back to look at him and he smiled before cupping your cheek and continued kissing you. He stood up and took one arm under your ass and the other holding your back as brought you into his room and sat you down on the bed.

“Can’t forget this.” Ville pulled the necklace out of his pocket and pulled your hair back as he gently put the heart shaped locket around your neck. He put his rings in his jacket pocket and threw it on the floor, revealing a tight white shirt that showed off all of his tattoos perfectly.

Ville went back to kissing your neck as he lifted up your shirt and pulled it over your head.

“No bra?” Ville said in a sarcastic tone as he waited on your response.

You were flustered from his reaction and looked down like a shameful child before Ville grabbed your face gently to look at his.

“Don’t be silly, you think I didn’t already notice?” He replied condescending as he stood over you, looking down at you.

“I guess I didn’t think I needed it…” You shyly answered.

“Then you’d be right.” Ville laughed before kissing your cheek softly.

You tried to take your pants off yourself, but Ville refused.

“What did I tell you, Y/N? You don’t need to do anything.” He smirked before pulling your jeans off with ease and laid you down on the edge of the bed.

He began to kiss from down your neck, to your collarbone, then to your breasts. Every kiss was tender but intentional as he took his time with you and you savored every moment. You moaned loader as Ville circled your nipple with his tongue. You played with his hair as you watched him with closed eyes.

Ville began to kiss down your stomach, caressing your bruises softly, then down to your underwear. You were wearing a simple white pair of panties.

“How cute.” Ville looked up at you, your mouth open, still whimpering at his simple touch.

Ville took his own shirt off, revealing tattoos you’ve never seen before, his heartagram crotch tattoo on perfect pale skin. He reached for a spare pillow on his bed and lifted you up slightly to place it under your hips.

He began to lick down your body, and you were soaked at this point; Ville could clearly see it through your panties.

“So this is what you’ve wanted this entire time?” Ville tried to keep himself from smiling as you nodded silently. You weren’t hiding your feelings for him anymore and he wasn’t either.

This clearly pleased him, because he quickly placed a firm hand on your pussy. You moaned loudly at the sudden sensation, and he palmed you through your panties for a while as he went back to kissing you passionately.

Ville continued kissing you aggressively, as you struggled to breathe from his tongue deep inside your mouth. You continued moaning as Ville was kissing you, and he let go for a moment to watch you close your eyes and crumble underneath his touch.

You started squirming, and Ville could tell you were growing impatient with his constantly teasing and your growing lust for him.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Ville stopped touching you completely, and his games were sending you over the edge.

“Please continue, Ville. I need you so bad. I’ve been holding back so much from you… Just please, do this.” You whimpered, legs slightly shaking from the removal of his strong hand on your pussy.

Ville smiled hard at this, and laughed to himself before sliding your panties off and sliding two fingers inside of you instead.

“Fuck, Ville…” You replied, breathless from the change of course.

He continued sliding his fingers inside you mercilessly as he licked your clit, leaving you a hot mess on his mattress. As you could feel yourself nearing your climax, you stopped him.

“Please, not like this… I need you. Now.”

At this, Ville stood up and started to unbuckle his jeans, as he licked his fingers clean. He stared at you as you shamelessly stared at his hard cock pressing against his boxers. He slid his boxers down, completely naked and you were completely flustered. Ville smirked at your reaction and laid you back down on the bed before kissing you again and slowly sliding his cock deep inside of you.

You whimpered at the mixed of the pain and pleasure, as Ville picked up his pace and began slamming into you with hard thrusts. He grabbed your breasts and began flicking your clit, leaving no part of your body untouched.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N. I’ve never met anyone who is as perfect as you.” Ville moaned out softly as he stared at your face as you continued moaning at his every touch.

You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him close so he was not able to play any more games. Ville put his arms over you, bending down to kiss you and giving him more control to continue fucking you at a faster pace than before. You grabbed his hair as he groaned and sloppily kissed your neck, replacing Antto’s hickeys with his own.

As Ville continued fucking you, he started breathing louder and his thrusts were getting sloppier. As his kisses travelled up to your ear, Ville whispered in your ear.

“I have another confession, Y/N.” Ville groaned as continued fucking you at a consistent pace for the both of you.

“Hm? W-what is it?” You stuttered as you continued to reach your climax.

“Last night, when I saw that other guy kiss you… all I could think about was how much better I could make you feel. And look at you now, laid up on my mattress, making pretty noises just for me, my sweet girl.” Ville breathed in your ear before burying his face into your shoulder and biting you gently.

You winced from the slight pain, but Ville kept fucking you so good that you were focused on preventing yourself from cumming.

“You’re being so good for me my love, do you want to cum for me now?”

“Yes please…” You wanted nothing more.

“Then you’ll have to wait, darling. I’m not done yet.” Ville replied in a cocky tone before hungrily kissing you and spitting in your mouth. You whimpered and felt him start to twitch inside of you and you could tell that he was starting to lose control. He buried his face into your neck and sloppily thrusted into you. You both were filling up the room with noises as the record played in the background. There was nowhere else you’d rather be than with Ville in this moment.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. You’re gonna make me cum.” Ville said before you felt his cock twitch inside of you and both of you came at the same time, violently shaking against each other as you tugged hard on Ville’s hair as he continued fucking you slowly after your climax.

You were both left an overstimulated mess, and Ville was whimpering in a higher tone than he normally did. After you both chased your own high, it felt like you were fusing together as your bodies were completely exposed; Touching heart to heart.

—

Ville put his arm over you and held you close as you both were trying to catch your breath.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” Ville said as he played with your hair and looked deeply into your eyes.

“That would be nice right now.” You said before he kissed your forehead and went to the bathroom to fill up the tub.

Ville was humming over the music as the water ran and you were staring at the ceiling as you laid there on his bed.

It felt like a dream, and you never wanted to wake up. You really were in love with him, but doubt started to flood your thoughts. Did he want to stay with you forever, or was this just a one time thing?

Still naked, Ville came back to bed and picked you up bridal style to the bathroom. The tub smelled of essential oils and had pink rose petals covering the water. He bent down and placed you in the tub.

“Something to help your body rest.” He whispered before kissing you softly and then leaving the bathroom.

Shortly after, Ville came back with a mug filled with tea and honey. You took a sip before closing your eyes and humming along to the record.

Ville sat and watched you lay in the tub as he lit a cigarette and offered you one. He smiled as he put it between your lips and put the end of his cigarette against your own to light it. He came behind you and began to braid your hair as you both sung along to “Lovesong.”

After a while, you began to grow sleepy and Ville picked you up out of the tub and dried you off before bringing you back to the bed and put you in his Sisters of Mercy t-shirt.

He laid you down and covered you with a blanket before giving you a forehead kiss and laying next to you.

You both slowly drifted off into sleep as the record faded out in the background and the sky was changing from night to day. Ville’s breathing helped you calm down as he held you from behind and kept his hands on your stomach.

As the birds outside began chirping, you woke up. Still lying there as you felt Ville’s soft lips kiss your neck and his strong hands gently scratch your back.

You hummed and Ville turned you to face him before pulling you into a deep kiss.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He whispered before pulling away and getting up to go to the kitchen.

“I’ll be back, stay right here darling.” He kissed your hand before leaving and after a while you could hear the coffee machine brewing and Ville cooking pancakes for your breakfast. You smiled to yourself as you listened to the comforting sound of the stove and the nature outside.

10 minutes passed and Ville had come back with a plate and a coffee mug and placed it on the nightstand as he watched you sit up in bed and eat.

“I didn’t know you were a chef, Ville Valo.” You giggled before taking another sip of the coffee.

“There is so much more for you to learn about me, Y/N. A chef is just one of them.” Ville smiled at your joke and watched you intently as you finished your plate quickly because his pancakes tasted so good.

“I want to show you another place today. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave, I have another surprise.”

You smiled and nodded as you went to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You took the braid out that Ville had done last night and your hair fell wavy on your shoulders. You kept the same shirt Ville had given you, as well as your jeans from the day before. You went back to the room and saw him sitting on his chair, guitar in hand as he practiced playing a melody from his album. He looked up at you and smiled before putting it down and standing up and walking close to you.

He looked down at your face and cupped your face with a sweet smile. “You’re perfect, Y/N.” He said before he started kissing your neck and breathing you in. You whimpered softly before Ville looked back into your eyes.

“Who knew you’d become so weak under my touch, rakkaani.” Ville smirked before taking your hand and gently leading you outside.

“We don’t need to take the car, it’s a short walk from here…” Ville walked close by you as you walked to the mystery place. When you arrived, you found yourself alone in a beautiful garden with roses scattered all along the grass.

—

Ville took your hand and led you to the center of the garden.

“Why did you bring me here?” You looked up at him as he gazed at you with eyes as green as the leaves.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the letter you left behind in his car the day before. “You forgot about this?” He put it in your hand and smiled sweetly.

“I want to see you read it, Y/N.” He said as he stood before you.

You opened the note and read it.

—

Dear Y/N,

I want you to know, that despite it all, and despite my own flaws, I need you in my life. At first when I came back to Finland, I had lost purpose. I had fallen back into my old habits of being self loathing and self destructive. And then I met you again. After all these years, you’ve had a special place in my heart. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve never forgotten about you. Coming back here and meeting you helped me become a better person. I don’t want you to have any doubts about the way I feel about you, so I wrote this letter to communicate clearly my intentions with you. I love you, Y/N. I want to be around you forever, even if it means you despise me at times. I hope when you read this you understand the depth of my heart, and I’m willing to give you my all.

Forever and always, Ville.

—

As you finished reading his letter, you fell into his arms and squeezed him like you were going to suffocate him.

“I feel the same way. I love you too, Ville.” You looked up at him before he pulled you by your waist into a passionate kiss, tongue deep inside your mouth as you could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

“I was so afraid I would scare you off, Y/N. That’s the last thing I want to do. I tried my hardest to keep my feelings inside my head and not let them show on the outside in fear that you would run away, so I’m sorry if it ever seemed to you that I didn’t care for you. I sincerely apologize for the way I acted and how I put you in danger. I hope I can be better in the future.”

“You don’t have to worry about that Ville… I’ve had my doubts too, and I have a question that I’ve been afraid to ask you for a while… it’s just been on my mind for too long and I need to get it off my chest.” You said before looking down and thinking about how you were going to phrase this.

“And what would that be, my love?” He asked before pushing your hair out of your face.

“What about the age gap? And my dad? And you, your fame? And my life?” You looked up at him, looking around in his eyes waiting for a response.

Ville laughed before pulling you closer and bending down to your ear, softly kissing it before whispering, “The only gap I need to worry about, is the gap between your thighs.”

“VILLE! I’m being serious here…” you jokingly pushed him away and he quickly pulled you back by your ass.

“So am I.” He laughed before kissing you softly again. “But seriously, I’m sure everything will be fine with your father. We’re good friends anyway, we both trust each other. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have a chat with him soon about us. My fame? If you’re talking about touring, I’d take you with me, you can just come on stage and sing the songs for me. Right Y/N?” He sarcastically said with a smirk.

You gave him a playful frown when he picked your chin up to look at him.

“But if you’re talking about crazy fangirls, I don’t care what anyone thinks, and you should know that. Right now, I’m here with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known in my life, and will ever know, so what do other people’s thoughts matter over you? They have nothing on you. So, I brought you here, because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. Will you be mine, Y/N?” Ville said, his brows slightly furrowed, awaiting your answer.

After a pause, you gave him a big smile and kissed him deeply, pressing hard enough into him, enough to make him almost fall over.

Ville tried to regain his balance and laughed before grabbing your waist. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course that’s a yes, silly.” You messed up his hair when he gave you a genuine grin.

“Do you want to go home now? I mean, back to your house?” He said.

“Hell no. Why would I go back now when I can just spend my life with you?” You grabbed his hand and led him further down the garden.

As you both continued walking through the garden, Ville and you talked about everything that had happened over the years of your separation. The good, the bad, the ugly, everything. Eventually the day turned to night, and you and Ville found yourself lying down in a bed of roses, staring at the stars and making out for hours before falling asleep in the garden; Safe, together forever.

—

The End.

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