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ucetheones · 1 year

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Worked Up | Jey Uso x Single Mother!Reader

tw: mentions of an abusive ex, not detailed. My other fics are still in the works, I just can't let go of an idea once I get it. It's a curse.

(Also writing in second person is weird and I feel like I suck at it!! But whatever, enjoy!! <3)

When you and Jey first started talking, you were hesitant to tell him about your son, your pride and joy.

Your son, Joshia, was the driving force in you finally leaving your abusive ex, Tyler.

Finding out you were pregnant was one of the scariest days of your life, you no longer had just yourself to worry about. Now there was a life growing inside of you, meaning you couldn't afford to risk your body dealing with Tyler.

He was too dangerous to outright confront, so you did what you thought was best, and left him a few days after finding out.

That was over three years ago. Thanks to your estranged sister, Samantha, you found a steady job, and a place to stay.

Working with your older sister was strange at first, but you two easily fell into a rhythm like no other. It helped that you were doing your dream job. It might not seem like a huge deal to anyone else, but doing the hair, makeup and wardrobe for WWE Superstars was truly an amazing job. It required skill that most did not have, it made you valuable. Needed.

It was at work where you met Jey. You two hit it off almost instantly, and soon found yourselves flirting. That flirting evolved into talking pretty quickly.

It was Sam that brought up introducing Jey to Joshia, though not without commenting on how similar Jey's real name was to his.

With a roll of your eyes, you sipped your coffee and sighed.

"What if he freaks on me and bails? Work would be so awkward."

Sam squinted at you, lightly scoffing. "You know Jey loves kids, right? I think he'd like Joshia. You're thinkin' way too hard, Jey isn't that deep.

Plus, I love my nephew, but girl…if I have to watch another season of Miraculous Ladybug, I may die!"

You couldn't think of any rebuttal, so you just flicked a piece of your pastry at her. "Shut up, I ain't even ask for your opinion. And that show is good, admit it."

"You did, but whatever!" You can tell she agrees about the show being interesting, but won't give you the satisfaction.

That conversation was almost a month ago, and the entire time you were going back and forth with yourself on how to bring it up to him.

Sam wouldn't be willing to babysit while you went on dates with Jey forever, and hiring a nanny to work longer hours than you currently do felt like a terrible move; so you knew you'd have to tell him sooner or later.

You just didn't anticipate sooner being so soon.

You had a week off from work, as you weren't needed for hair and makeup or costume design, you decided to use some of your remaining vacation days.

Your original plan was to tell Jey about Joshia and hope that the week away from one another would be enough time for him to decide whether things were worth continuing.

You hadn't counted on Joshia getting sick, or Jey showing up at your door on the first day of your vacation.

Your hair was all over the place, your clothes were a mess, and Joshia was perched on your hip, wailing loudly into your ear, despite all attempts at soothing him.

When you answered the door, Jey's expression was visibly confused. You wanted to slam the door.

You wanted to pretend you still had a say in whether you told him about your son, but instead remained frozen in place.

"You babysitting or something?"

Before you could answer, your son was whining. "Mama, hurts…"

The very evident discomfort in his voice had you turning away from the man in your doorway, your hand rubbing up and down Joshia's back in an effort to calm him.

"I know, baby, I know. The medicine will help, we just have to give it time."

His crying dies down considerably at your words, but you can tell he doesn't feel any better and for a moment you consider taking him to the hospital. If for no other reason than to have an excuse to get Jey out if things turned south. Not that you thought they would, but you could never be too safe.

Jey clears his throat softly, and your head whips back to look at him.

"He's cute, Uce. What's his name?"

His tone is softer than it was previously, there's a warm smile on his lips. You can tell he has other questions, but is saving them for the moment.

"His name is Joshia."

At your response, Jey raises a brow.

"Yeah, yeah, I know; your names are similar. Sam won't let me hear the end of it."

It's when Jey laughs that you realize he's still outside, so you step aside and watch as he slips into the house.

It's the first time he's ever gotten to come inside, you usually meet him at the front steps or at whatever hotel you were staying at for work, whilst Joshia was usually with the hired nanny. The nanny, Riah, spent most of the week with him, before dropping Joshia off to your father until you were done for the week.

From there, Sam helped you.

It was never easy, and sometimes you considered quitting, if only to spend more time with your son; but when those doubts came up, Sam would quickly shut them down. The first few times she thought it was financially challenging to pay an overnight babysitter, and had offered repeatedly to help you pay, but you reassured her that wasn't the case. It was just difficult doing this without a partner. You never wanted Sam to think you were ungrateful for her sacrifices, because you were anything but, so it wasn't often you brought up your worries.

Maybe if Tyler was a better man, you could've trusted him to know you were pregnant, and ultimately know his son, but you'd given up on that pipe dream shortly after Joshia was born. He would never be allowed to see him, if you had any say, but you knew one day he'd start asking about his father, and you weren't sure if you could lie to him when the time came.

Right now though, none of that mattered. Because the man you were slowly falling for, was in your home. He was seeing your son for the first time, without any clue he existed to begin with.

Toys littered the floor in some places, there were blankets all over the couch and your coffee table was covered in various sippy cups, from throughout the day.

It should've embarrassed you, but Jey seemed completely unfazed by it all.

He seemed to almost welcome it.

From then on, the bulk of your vacation was spent with Jey, the two of you taking care of Joshia together. It was weird at first, Jey hadn't really interacted with Joshia at all, instead opting to do things like preparing meals, bottles and whatever else needed to be done so that you could focus on Joshia.

On Wednesday, you'd fallen asleep on the couch after putting Joshia to bed, Jey was in the kitchen cleaning up.

At least he had been. But when you woke up from your impromptu nap, he was nowhere to be seen.

You were afraid he left at first, but instead of worrying about it, you went to check on Joshia. He was your number one priority, even when he was starting to feel better.

When you entered your son's room, you quickly stopped in your tracks.

Jey was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of Joshia's room, cradling the small boy in his arms as the chair swayed softly. When you stepped closer, you saw that they were both asleep, so you grabbed a blanket and draped it over them; deciding you'd wake them up to transition to beds after a quick shower.

Leaning down, you press a kiss to Joshia's head and then Jey's before turning to step out the room. Jey's sleepy rumble pausing your movements.

"You ain't gettin' rid of me now, Y/N. You know that law, he fell asleep on my chest, I'm stuck here forever." When you look over at him, he's smiling at you. You smile back, shaking your head.

"I'm pretty sure that 'law' is about cats, Josh."

Jey playfully glares at you, "nah, it's about cute two year olds that drool on your shirt, too Mamas. It's what life is all about."

You raise your eyebrow, humming. "I'll take your word for it then. And a shower, I'm gonna go take a shower."

You watch as he shifts in the chair, readjusting himself and Joshia so they're more comfortable, before nodding. "I ain't tryna' rush you, but…hurry up. I wanna cuddle, and my back starting to hurt."

You detect the slight whine in his voice, a small chuckle leaving you. "You got it, Chief."

He sucks his teeth, "man, go wash ya' ass." Just to annoy him a little, you stand there unmoving.

He waits a beat before huffing. "Babyyyy, my ass is gonna go numb."

"I'll massage it, don't worry."

He laughs a bit too loud at that, if the way Joshia wiggles in his sleep and huffs is anything to go by. His tiny cheeks filled with air before he settled down again.

"See, even little man is on my side."

You decide not to mention that he'd almost woken Joshia up, instead you raise your hand defensively.

"I'm goin', I'm goin' no need for you two to get all worked up, jeez!"

You playfully flip your hair before scurrying out the room, laughing to yourself at the sound of Jey's distant chuckle of disbelief.

You were worried to tell Jey about Joshia for nothing it seems. They would get along just fine, Jey hadn't run for the hills and had actually stuck around to help you take care of your unwell son. He had no obligation to you, yet he chose to put himself in this position.

He wanted this, he wanted you.

#jey uso #angst #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso x you #single mother!reader #your sister is Samantha Irvin btw #wwe #slight angst #Y/N x Jey Uso #jey isn't a father in this #i honestly have a few ideas for this lil universe but idk #i may never write it all #but imagine jey and joshia matching outfits #i honestly imagine joshia as looking a lot like jey but not intentionally #it just happened #i can't unsee it tbh

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pbs-theundeadmaggot · 8 months

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hi angel! i see your requests are open and if you’re up for it, i’d love to request an older!sinclair sister w our lover boy eddie? :) some angst for character development LOL and fluff? ♥️♥️♥️ thank u pookie

Mistakes were made but atleast we fixed them, sort of…

Eddie Munson x Fem!OlderSinclaire reader

[a/n] sorry this took longer than I’d hoped, I really tried to make it a balance between angst and fluff so I hope I did your request justice! Feel free to send more asks in the future, I’ve never written for Sinclair reader before this so it was definitely new to me, but I had fun! <3

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

Request a Valen-Cries fic here!

Eddie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, practically joined at the hip, so much so that it was uncommon to see you apart, until recently. With the cracks of your steadily crumbling friendship beginning to show, questions naturally arose from both your parents and peers.

What you refused to tell anyone was the real reason behind this break, constantly spewing excuse after excuse when anyone broached the topic. It was unlikely anyone would hear what actually went down, with Eddie probably far too embarrassed to explain that you, his best friend was in love with him, and you mortified for even thinking he could feel the same.

In fact just thinking about it months later, your cheeks still burned with a mixture of hurt and rage, picturing the night you’d all but spilled your guts while he sat there half heartedly shrugging at your confession like you meant nothing to him at all.

Poor Lucas had attempted to console you but was met with a cold pillow to the face the moment he entered your bedroom, quickly deciding it wasn’t worth possibly losing his head over some ‘girl drama’, or so he thought. However, it was also just your luck that the following morning he’d not only told Mike and Dustin but the entire Hellfire group, Eddie included.

For a while after the whole debacle you’d tried to remain just best friends with Eddie, truly believing that if he wasn’t interested in you romantically you could still salvage the friendship although, that proved more difficult than ever.

Which led you to now where you were stuck between the awkward and depressing limbo of wanting more but trying desperately to get over you know who, in an effort to go back to how it was before, if that was even possible.

Poking around at the food in front of you as your family chatted happily about their day, zoning in and out of conversation had become the new norm. The numbness taking over once more until Lucas had let it slip that Eddie had a date with none other than Chrissy Cunningham, Hawkin’s princess.

Of course he did, you’d thought. The bitterness beginning to take over as you thought of the numerous reasons Eddie would never be attracted to you and how you’d ruined everything. Excusing yourself from the table and going straight to bed, not that you’d be getting any sleep.

If only you’d kept your stupid mouth shut.

You weren’t sure how long had passed until the faint knock of the door echoed through the room, followed by the creak of the worn down door. “Hey y/n, I was thinking we could have a spa night this weekend if you’re up for it? You know how mom used to do when we were younger?” Erica shifted somewhat nervously. It was clear she didn’t want to anger you, with your mood changing faster than the wether nowadays, likely confused how the once close family dynamic had become to distant.

Guilt weighed heavy against your chest, the urge to decline and simply wallow, outweighing a possibly fun and equally horrendous sister night. Desperate to think of an excuse but deciding to agree anyway for her sake. It wasn’t like you had anything planned either way, with Lucas and your parents going on date.

The bonus was she might actually succeed with killing you this time, if her cooking was the still as you remembered.

—-

Eddie knew it was wrong as soon as the thought entered his head, he just couldn’t understand how you could tolerate let alone be in love with him. Hell he’d be lying if he tried to deny the feelings he felt, yet he still choose to play the fool. He hadn’t anticipated the fallout would be quite this bad, with you avoiding him for the most part or pretending for his sake the confession was in the past and to be forgotten, and his conflicted feelings making him temperamental, for lack of a better word he well and truly was fucked.

How was he supposed to rely on you to protect his heart if he couldn’t do the same for you? So used to being the other person in any given situation, this was all new. Hell he’d have studied for this moment if it meant he’d have an answer with how to move forward, alas that wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Trudging up to the van like usual unaware that someone was following him until the crinkle of a snack wrapper sounded from behind, stopping him in his tracks.

“Sinclair I know you’re there” Eddie had called before turning around to meet the sheepish grin on Lucas’ face.

“How did you know it was me?” The boy had sighed, munching away on his favourite snack bar which coincidentally was also yours.

“Well apart from the obnoxiously loud noise you made opening that.” He’d pointed at the half eaten food “I also happen to know there y/n’s favourite and they’re the most annoying thing ever, especially when trying to plan a campaign.”

“Well anyway I need you to come to my house tomorrow evening.” Ignoring Eddie and continuing “and before you ask she’s not going to be home so don’t worry about that, she’s got a date.” He trailed off, watching something in the distance

“I wasn’t worried but okay…” Eddie muttered watching as Lucas suddenly ran off shouting at what he assumed to be the others to wait up for him

—-

Getting into your pyjamas and heading downstairs to see what chaos Erica was cooking up, literally, you hadn’t expected to be met with the person you’d been trying to forget, or at least just for one evening.

“What are you doing here?” Looking around the otherwise empty kitchen confused “you’re supposed to be on a date?” You questioned

“No you’re supposed to be on a date.” Eddie echoed back as the sound of chairs dragging against the hardwood floor grew closer.

“Neither of you are on a date but you are locked in, so sort whatever it is going on between you out now!” Your younger siblings shouted, clearly having planned tonight.

“By the way I know you both love each other so just admit it already.” Erica added, earning a thump before it grew quiet again.

Unsure of how to comprehend her words, you simply pulled up a chair and sat down. You definitely weren’t going to start the conversation, hurt enough over the first time you’d talked argued about ‘this’.

“Look I’m just going to get straight to the point. I lied.” Eddie started, pulling up a chair near you and sitting “I do love-” the hesitation was enough to send you reeling, the urge to simply run, scratching away at your insides.

“Fuck” he was pacing now “I’ve never said these words to anyone but I love you.” Breathing out without hesitation this time. “I know I’ve been shit at showing it and I don’t expect you to forgive me for lying and hurting you but when I heard you were going on a date something changed.” Now still and silent once again as he got down and looked at you for real this time.

“I lied because I thought you could do better than me. I mean I’m still in high school, barley passing and you’re in college with your whole life ahead of you. It wouldn’t be fair for me to hold you back, you know that.”

“Eddie what the hell?!” You weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry at how dense he could be, you’d probably end up doing both “I don’t care about that shit, we’ve been friends for years and you didn’t think to at least talk to me about this?”

“You know I love you and you let me think you were basically disgusted at me?” Pausing as you pondered on your next words. “Don’t answer that.”

Where words failed, actions came into hand. Leaning over and pressing your lips against his, savouring the faint taste of mint and tobacco that lingered, while cupping his cheeks between your hands. Now that you’d started you weren’t sure you could stop, understanding now what it means to be intoxicated by someone.

Gasping for breath between kisses and hands grabbing at each other while the room grew hotter until you were startled by a bang.

“Hey! We’re still here you know.” Lucas shouted “also I’m still mad that you like him” It was now Erica’s turn to slap him playfully, prompting a spat between the two over who’d genius plan this was. Honestly you couldn’t care less now that you had Eddie back.

Little did you know that it was thanks to both Lucas and Erica meddling for this Valentine’s miracle. Although, that was an argument for another day. Erica insisting she knew was the head of operation Valentines.

#stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson #joe quinn imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things au #pbs-thedesecrated

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logically-asexual · 8 months

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Love like you

summary:

Betterfly finds himself in a confrontation with Shadybug and Claw Noir inside the Agreste Mansion of the alternate universe they traveled to. Nathalie is in her bedroom processing the fact that Gabriel has finally lost it. Their journeys unexpectedly cross when Betterfly akumatizes Nathalie by accident.

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

words: 2,010

As she sat on a cozy couch, reading an adventure novel she had never heard of before and drinking a warm cup of tea, Nathalie realized she got exactly what she had wished for the night before. She got to spend the entire day in this quiet and peaceful place, finally allowing herself to rest and forget about everything.

After passing out, which was funnily the only way she could get some sleep, Betterfly carried her to lay on the couch of the library while he went back to finish what he had been doing in Nathalie’s universe. At sunrise she woke up, not long before Gabriel returned and explained the situation to her. The existence of parallel worlds and portals between them was a lot to take in but Nathalie was now used to magic affecting her life in the most unexpected ways.

The most unnerving part was how similar yet so different her Gabriel and the one keeping her company here were. Apparently their decisions had been almost the same for most of their lives, but the Gabriel from this universe, which was oppressed by some mysterious entity he didn’t want to discuss, resolved by himself that he had to use his powers for the greater good after he lost his wife.

The fact that Emilie was gone here, as well, wasn’t easy to hear. It forced Nathalie once again to confront her own reality, to question the meaning of it all. Earlier that night, Gabriel’s behavior and his resolution that inflicting pain on others would be worth it in the name of love stopped being impressive for Nathalie and began seeming crazy. Now perhaps she had to go further and accept that the whole endeavor to rewrite destiny wasn’t a good idea from the start.

She was grateful that she was able to reflect on all this with a clear head, now that she didn’t have to worry about what Gabriel was doing. She did have to tell the Gabriel from this universe about her own, particularly the explanation for why she confused Betterfly with the other Gabriel Agreste. When told that the origin of Hawk Moth, who would later become Monarch, was the loss of Emilie to a magical illness, he bitterly understood the other man, aware that Monarch’s path could have been his own, too.

She didn’t talk about Mayura. Despite obviously being unable to walk, she chose to pretend she was just tired. Now this act of service she did for Gabriel seemed less heroic and more foolish and embarrassing.

Nathalie should go back to her own Gabriel eventually. Still, when Betterfly asked in the morning if he should take her back home, she replied that she wanted to stay just a little longer. It would be the first real vacation she’d have in so long, if it could be called that. Ironically, forgetting about the miraculous was only possible when she had another version of the miraculous that she could shift her focus to instead.

It was interesting to learn how Betterfly’s power worked. From his explanations and what she found in books within arms’ reach in his library, it seemed to Nathalie that the power was just the same as Hawk Moth’s, but due to their circumstances neither of them had tried to use the opposite type of emotion that they had become used to from the start, and the different names for the butterflies and the process was just a side effect of this. She was convinced they were just different old translations of the same original word in the code of the guardians.

Despite her curiosity, she made an effort to stop investigating and take advantage of the time she had. While Gabriel was out helping the Ladybug and Black Cat kids from this world as they settled into a new independent life as vigilantes, Nathalie stayed in to relax. She scanned the collection of fictional stories on the bottom shelf and settled for a space travel adventure. At least with that she had no experience.

Later Gabriel brought her a tea set when he arrived, before leaving the room again to greet his son returning home from school.

This place was calm like the eye of a hurricane. Betterfly’s world faced a more intimidating enemy, with more powerful control over the miraculous holders, and his work as the starter of what he hoped could become a revolution seemed more dangerous than the daily fight Ladybug and Cat Noir had against a random akumatized citizen. Nevertheless, when he was home he was smiling. peaceful and confident that he was doing what was best. Nathalie had never expected the Agreste mansion to feel so warm and comforting, but she feared what The Supreme, whoever that was, could do to her the moment she stepped outside if they knew who she was.

Gabriel came back and sat on the couch. Nathalie could tell he was exhausted, despite trying to appear as if he wasn’t. It was Gabriel after all, and he had the same tells. She finished the last sentences of the book in her hands, put it down, and shuffled slightly closer to him.

“How was your day?” she asked. She swallowed the “sir” at the end of the sentence that wanted to come out by habit.

“Certainly not as stressful as last night.” He thought for a moment. “I’m glad your Ladybug and Cat Noir helped my kids break free from their fear of The Supreme, but I’m still not sure how I could work together with them after being alone for so long.”

“It’s good to have help.” She smiled. “And now you can have information from the inside.”

“I do. I hope they agree to stay undercover, it would be very useful.”

“It would also be safer for them than a public rebellion that would make them a target. For you as well. In fact, it might be good not to let them in on all your secrets yet, if The Supreme is in control of the kwamis like you said.”

Gabriel nodded, then sighed. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

He stayed in thoughtful silence for a moment. Nathalie got the teapot and poured a cup for him, which he accepted.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he put the cup down. “I didn’t want to worry you with more problems related to the miraculous.”

“It’s fine, really. I can’t begin to express how grateful I am that you let me stay here a while.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just as glad to have you here.” He placed a hand on top of hers.

Nathalie admired the way his platinum hair glowed under the sunset rays coming from the window. That in addition to his eyes that had known darkness yet persevered hopeful and the warm smile on his face made her feel at home.

“Are you hungry? I can arrange for dinner to be brought up here for us if you want.”

That made her pause. “You’re not eating with your son?”

Gabriel looked sheepishly to the floor. “I… Adrien… Well, he prefers being alone.”

“He does?”

“Emilie’s death was hard for both of us. I’ve tried to cheer him up but he just gets angry at me. I’ve found for now that it’s better to give him some… space.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re just concerned for our wellbeing. You’re just like my own Nathalie, but back then I was angry, too, and I didn’t understand her good intentions.”

Every time he brought up his world’s version of Nathalie he talked about “back then.” Though he did use the present tense when talking about her, so she wasn’t dead. They must not have spoken in a while. Maybe years, because apparently something happened between them before he became a superhero.

She held his hand tighter.

Though Nathalie liked being here with Gabriel now and seeing that he had learned from his mistakes, she couldn’t help but understand her other self’s decision to leave, just like Nathalie should have left her own boss long ago. Nathalie was aware it wasn’t good for her and yet she stayed and made everything worse not just for her, but for the entire Agreste family. Apparently she was born in the universe where everyone was a little more stupid.

“I see things more clearly now,” Gabriel continued. “You’re— I mean—, she is the most loyal person I’ve ever met, it was only under the extreme stress I must have put her through that she was forced to go away. Before that she was always there for me. She always knew what to say to make things easier. I never appreciated her as much as she deserved. Then she left,” his voice cracked. “And now you’re here I just… I missed you.”

This admission of Gabriel’s feelings towards her caused Nathalie’s heartbeat to cease for a moment.

“Gabriel, I…”

She wanted to reply in some way but she couldn’t find the words. He had said something she had always dreamed of hearing but never expected the man to utter.

“I don’t know what happened in this Paris but… I’ll always be there for you, because I want to. You have also given me so much. Thanks to you I have learned so much, I’ve traveled the world, and I’m— I was part of a lovely family, something I had never really had. You showed me what true love was.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise and Nathalie had to stop herself to rewind her words, as they had been pouring out of her mouth without her thinking any of them through.

“Did— Did you…?”

Nathalie finally caught up and felt a red blush spread across her face. “No! I mean— I meant you and Emilie. You both, uh, inspired me.”

“Oh.” Now he was blushing, too.

Nathalie bit her lip to force herself to stay quiet.

After an excruciating minute of avoiding eye contact and hoping the house would start crumbling again, she was forced to look up when Gabriel spoke up.

“You… look just as beautiful as I remember.”

She noticed his hand never left hers. “You look well, too. Happiness suits you.”

Gabriel lifted a hand towards his chest, touching just below where Nathalie knew the brooch was hidden. “Hey... Since we’re both here now. May I try something? I probably won’t get a chance like this ever again so, just once, to satisfy this… curiosity. I— I can tell you feel the same.”

“What do you mean?” She was beginning to get the unspoken idea before even finishing the question, when she noticed Gabriel leaning in closer.

“May I?” he asked when his face was just millimeters apart from hers.

Nathalie nodded.

He pressed his lips to hers gently, as if he was worried he would break her with even a little force. It lasted a second and then he began pulling away, but Nathalie chased after him. She wouldn’t ever get a chance like this again either, she couldn’t waste it. Luckily he reciprocated her effort.

Gabriel’s skin was as soft as she expected. She had felt his hands before for fleeting moments but it couldn’t compare to cradling his face and keeping the warmth from his mouth close to her.

She sighed, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she allowed herself to love him outwardly. She felt him use that short moment to smile, before pulling her back in.

Nathalie never thought she would kiss Gabriel Agreste and if she ever did she thought it would be an awkward experience, with Gabriel showing the same apprehension he did whenever they got too close, and Nathalie worrying about what the world would think.

Now, however, there was no need for reservation. No impact to worry about in either of their worlds, because no one had to know that they had met or what they were doing, and Gabriel was more than eager to focus on her and nothing else. They were free.

#gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #gabenath #betterfly #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #mlb #lunas writing

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bubbleteaimagines · 4 years

Text

He cheats and gets someone else pregnant

Haikyuu Boys Drabbles

The one where you finally realize your worth and don’t forgive a cheater

SUNA RINTARO

It was inevitable, he supposed. You weren’t a dumb person- you’d figure it out soon enough. You’d pick up on the signs- notice how much he’s been going out lately and staring at his phone. Laughing at things you hadn’t sent him, becoming distant, slowly but surely.

Suna knew you’d find out.

He just wasn’t expecting it to be soon.

He had come home one evening and took a shower like normal. While he washed up, he made the terrible mistake of leaving his phone in the kitchen, thinking that there was no way she’d text him. Their relationship was dwindling, after all. Suna was beginning to let the guilt get to him.

After 3 long months, he finally realized what he had wanted. He wanted you, forever and always. He wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his days traveling and experiencing new things with you.

Unfortunately though, he figured it out too late. A boys mistake, thinking that the grass was greener on the other side. And he’d soon pay the price for that wishful thinking.

While you were cooking dinner, you couldn’t help but notice how often his phone was going off. It kept dinging every few seconds, quickly causing you to become irritated.

Suna’s phone never went off that much, and so you thought surely it must be the boys. They probably added him into a group chat, you figured.

Oh how wrong you were.

The minute you walked over to the device and picked it up, you could truly feel your heart break. Searing pain burst through you like a rocket, a gasp leaving your lips as you scrolled through the messages.

8:53 PM

Unknown: Suna? Do you think we could talk?

Unknown: I know you said that you were going back to Y/N, but I...I’m pregnant. And it’s yours

Undeniably, you were shocked and confused. Pregnant? Who was this that was texting his phone? And why the hell did she think she was pregnant by your boyfriend?

A sickening feeling began to bubble in your stomach. Putting the phone down, you clenched your fists and took deep breaths.

In and out, Y/N. In and out.

Surely there was an explanation for this, right? You’d ask Suna as soon as he got done showering, and he’d laugh and tell you how this was all a misunderstanding. Some prank by Atsumu, wanting to get him back in his own cruel way.

But...

One look at his face, though, and you knew everything.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at Suna, his eyes widened as he looked at the phone in your trembling hands. Once again, it pinged, but you didn’t even have the energy to look. The only thing you were focused on was your heavy breathing, and the fact that you were becoming light-headed as Suna stepped forward.

“Y/N, baby, I can explain.”

As soon as those words left this lips, your entire world shattered. Letting out a sob, you dropped the phone and used your hands to cover your mouth in horror.

“So you did.”

Suna became panicked as soon as you started crying, holding onto the kitchen table to keep yourself from falling over. The pain that you felt was indescribable, not to mention the absolute betrayal. You had given everything up for Suna- and he repayed you like this?

“Y/N/N, please,” Suna was begging as he moved closer, trying to embrace your crying figure in his arms but you pushed him away, sudden anger taking over you.

“Don’t touch me!” Suna flinched as your damn near threw him off, backing up so far from him. The look in your eyes nearly killed him as you made eye contract, “I don’t want your filthy hands on me now that I know where they’ve been!”

“Y/N...-”

“Shut the fuck up Suna!”

You could no longer control yourself as rage began taking over your body, slowly but surely replacing the tears. The more you processed it - the more you looked at that bastards face and realized that he had went and knocked someone up while you were at home, cooking his dinner - the more infuriated you became.

“I cannot fucking believe you. Like are you serious right now?! I spend all day, all fucking day waiting for you Suna. I cook your food, I run you baths, I do everything I can to make your life less stressful and then you go and do this shit?”

“Baby just listen me, it’s not like that, okay?Whatever you saw- it’s in the past! Me and her- it meant nothing. I realize that now. It’s me and you baby- just us. That’s all I want,” Suna felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded his case. Desperately grabbing at you, trying to hold you as if that would make everything okay. As if a simple “I’m sorry,” could fix what he broke.

Instead, you found yourself laughing bitterly and fought the urge to smack him in the face. No, you decided you’d have more dignity than that. You’d pack your stuff, peacefully, and leave this asshole here to rot.

“Whatever.”

That was quickly decided in your mind and within seconds, you were shaking your head, scoffing as you pushed passed him and practically ran to your shared bedroom.

“Wait-! Y/N, what are you doing? No, no, no, no!” Suna panicked even more when he followed you and saw that you were hurriedly packing your stuff in a suitcase. It was messy, and you barely had half of your shit but you decided that it’d do. At least until right now. At least until...well, you didn’t really know anymore.

You and Suna, you guys were supposed to be each other’s forever. You were supposed to be endgame, but as it turned out, Suna ruined that before you could even get a ring.

You scoffed again at the prospect of ever marrying him. Now, you began to think about why you even wanted him in the first place. How did you not notice the signs? The lack of effort for weeks until Suna suddenly warmed up again and began treating you like you were his world.

How did you not catch on? How did it completely slip your mind that you were dating a cheater, until the facts suddenly smacked you right in the face?

“What does it look like I’m doing, Rintaro,” You rolled your eyes, zipping the suitcase and then booking it to the bathroom. You quickly grabbed your body wash, all your hair products and then your toothbrush. You lazily threw them in a another bag and then stood up, glaring at Suna who tried to block you from exiting the door.

“Move,” You stared him down, venom lacing your words. “I don’t fucking have time for this.”

“Baby, please,” You flinched as he reached out to touch you, to stroke your cheek with the same hands that had touched her. They were slightly wet, presumably from wiping his tears away, but all you could think about was that you weren’t the only one he had been coming home to. You weren’t the only one he had been fucking and touching.

The thought made you absolutely sick. You were sure that if you didn’t get out now, then you’d puke all over your- his expensive furniture.

“You have to listen to me,” Suna silently cried, his body shaking as he stood there, begging for the one person he needed in his life to stay. “I told you- she means nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her, I only want you, Y/N.”

“And the baby?” Dammit. You couldn’t help yourself. Once again, your anger began to fade as tears gathered in your eyes.

Suna had a child. He had a fucking child with some stranger he’d known less than six months. She was carrying his blood, something that was supposed to be your moment. You were supposed to give him his first child. You were supposed to be the one he shared that part of life with, not her.

“I- what?”

From the looks of it, you’d almost think that Suna didn’t know. His eyes were wide, his whole body stopping as he stared at you incredulously.

And then it hit you.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t even know that she was carrying his baby. He was completely clueless. Both of you were blindsided.

At this, you couldn’t help it. You did laugh, a bitter sound that sounded almost like you were mocking him.

“Wow Rintaro. How fucking stupid could you get?” You let out a watery chuckle, shaking your head as a tear ran down your face. “If you’re gonna cheat and fuck someone else, then at least be smart enough to wear a condom.”

“But I...that’s impossible,” Suna whispered, mostly to himself. “I don’t...I mean she can’t possibly...how did you...?”

“She was blowing up your phone while you were in the shower. How did you think I found out?” You gave him a fake smile. “For someone that doesn’t like putting in a lot of effort, you sure did put a lot into making sure you fucked this relationship up. And then your own life too.”

You hated to say it, but you silently enjoyed the way Suna was going to suffer. At the very least, it was absolutely what he deserved for cheating in the first place. Now, his life was probably going to be ruined. His career, his dreams, everything he had planned...

It was gonna go down the drain.

And you for one were grateful he wasn’t dragging you down with him.

“I...” Suna was at an absolute loss for his words. His whole body slumped, seemingly going numb as he just stayed in the doorway, looking shocked. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push past him, a small smirk on your face despite the searing pain in your heart.

You knew it was serious when he didn’t even try to stop you when you opened the front door.

“I left your phone on kitchen floor. Maybe you should call her. I’m sure you’d like to know more, seeing as it is yours. For your sake, I hope it’s a bouncing baby boy. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

You spoke one last time, making sure to rub salt in the wound before taking a final glance at the man you loved.

He looked broken, a sheer sobbing mess as he still stood in your bedroom door. A part of you couldn’t help but feel bad. You couldn’t help but want to go over and embrace him, dropping everything and tell him that things were gonna work out.

That was the part of you that still loved him.

But the other part...

The other part of you told you that it’s what he deserved. He cheated, and now he has to live with the consequences. Loosing you, and becoming a father at the age of 20.

That was the part of you that gave you the extra push. That was the part of you that gave you the strength to close the door, forever walking away from the man that broke you and the empty house that held all of your dead dreams.

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

BOKUTO KOUTARO

You didn’t believe it. Or more like, you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t wanna shatter your fantasy world, one that you had been living in for four years.

You didn’t want it to break, because if it did...

You didn’t know what you were going to do.

For the last four years Bokuto had been your world. Your absolute rock, your sunshine on a cloudy day. He made you laugh, he made you feel welcome and special like nobody else had before.

Surely...your Bokuto wasn’t capable of this. Surely didn’t...he couldn’t have...

You didn’t even wanna think about it. Bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about it...his lips on hers. Caressing her and holding her the way he was supposed to only hold you.

You didn’t wanna think about it, but yet-

You had no choice as you stared at the pregnant woman before you.

“I’m sorry,” She had tears in her eyes as she sat on your couch, sobbing while simultaneously holding her belly. While holding his baby.

She had come to you only a few hours before, taking you by complete surprise. Never in your life did you ever think you’d come face to face with your boyfriend’s baby momma.

But that’s exactly what had happened.

Apparently, she and Bokuto had both had a one stand a few months ago. It was when he had traveled to Tokyo for a game and you stayed behind because you had school.

It was the one weekend you weren’t there to support him. One weekend...and you had lost him forever.

“It’s not...it’s not your fault,” You told her somewhat awkwardly, although you didn’t really mean it. She had slept with your boyfriend, after all. And now she was pregnant, claiming the baby was 100% his.

That wasn’t even the worst part though.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be mad at her, because she didn’t know. It was a one night thing. She had told you Bokuto had left in tears the next morning, rambling on about how she meant nothing and that he had you to come home to.

She claimed that he regretted it the minute he realized what happened. Crying out about how he was going to propose and then rushing out without so much as a goodbye.

Oh how stupid he was to name drop you.

You almost wished he hadn’t, because that was how she had found you. After finding out that she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to Bokuto only to realize that he was telling the truth. He’d been with you for four years.

But did that really even mean anything anymore?

“It’s just- I just-” The girl shook her head. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. If I had known...if I had any other choice...”

“Actually, I’m sort of glad you reached out to me. Thank you for that. That was good on your part, seeing as I doubt he would have told me,” You smiled numbly, not capable of feeling anything at the moment.

It was like...your entire body was on shut down mode. It had become numb, desperately trying to block out the pain you were sure that was coming. And you, for one, were absolutely grateful. You didn’t wanna think... you didn’t even wanna fathom how broken you were gonna be.

So you didn’t. Instead you kept your thoughts quiet and relished in the numbness.

“You know...” You laughed bitterly, sadly shaking your head as you sighed, “Bokuto’s always wanted a kid. He kept begging me a few weeks ago to have one, but I said no. We’re both so young, you know? We had our whole lives together.”

You hadn’t meant to make her cry even more, but that’s exactly what your words did. They cut a knife through this random girl’s heart, causing her pain that she had stolen that from you. Bokuto, he had taken that from you as well.

“I’m sorry,” Once again, she apologized, but you weren’t much focused on that. Instead, your attention snapped towards the front door as you heard keys jingling outside. With a sharp push, your stomach dropped.

Bokuto was home.

“Hey hey hey! Babe whose car is that-”

Bokuto’s smile suddenly dropped as he walked into the scene, your dull eyes and the girl’s tearful ones ones trained on him. Immediately, his whole demeanor began to crumble down and he nervously looked between the two of you, his shoulders dropping.

“...outside. What’s this?”

“Bokuto, I believe you know her,” You were eerily calm as you pointed towards her, showing no emotion as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to her stomach. “This is Kayla. From Tokyo, right? I think you guys have much to discuss.”

Bokuto was at a loss for words as you rose from the couch, gesturing for him to take your seat. But instead of listening, he decided to make things difficult and run after you like a lost puppy as you made your way to the bedroom.

“Babe, babe wait! Y/N, please baby I can explain. I can explain, I can explain, I swear! Just let me, just please let me-”

“Bokuto,” You stopped him, holding up your hand and shaking your head. “I’m not in the mood, really. Just go talk with her alright? She came all this way to find me, so it’s rude not to.”

“But baby-”

“Go,” You suddenly became firm, gritting your teeth as you stared him. For a second, you took a small pause, and then Bokuto heard the words he never wished to hear his in life. “And don’t you ever call me that ever again, Koutaro.”

“K-Koutaro...?” Bokuto stuttered slightly, reeling back at the use of his first name. “But baby...y-you never call me that. Ever.”

“Oh yeah?” You couldn’t help but laugh on how clueless he was. I mean honestly, you never thought that Bokuto was stupid but now...“Well what the hell else am I supposed to call you? Read the fucking room Bokuto. Your pregnant fucking mistress is sitting on my couch, crying her eyes out and you’re worried about me calling you by your first fucking name? Get a god damn grip.”

For the first time that day, emotion began peaking out from your eyes. Pure anger bubbled up inside of your body, finally manifesting after holding it in for so long.

It felt good, in your opinion, to finally feel something. A delayed reaction, sure, but late was better than never.

“B-But-”

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes at his trembling form. “I don’t wanna hear anything else from you. So go talk to her. Figure your shit out while I pack mine.”

“No!” Panic was evident in his voice as he suddenly grabbed your arms, preventing you from entering your bedroom. Shocked, you siteuggled in his embrace but Bokuto was extremely strong.

“What the hell? Let me go!”

“Y-Y/N! Baby y-you can’t leave me! You can’t! What about our plans? What about forever and always, you and me?”

“Did you think about that before you got drunk and fucked her?” You snapped harshly, causing him to whimper. “Exactly. So don’t come pulling that bullshit out on me, Bokuto. You’re the one that ruined that.”

“But-” At this point, he was searching for something, anything to make you stay as you shoved him off and then stormed in your shared room. “But baby I- we had this whole plan...I was gonna propose! Please, I...I even got the ring! Here I’ll prove it to you!”

While you were busy running around the room throwing all your stuff together, Bokuto suddenly dashed to the kitchen and retrieved a box he had been storing for a special occasion. He completely ignored the girl that was sitting on his couch, not even sparing her a second glance as he rushed back to you and dropped to his knees.

“See?” He hurriedly opened the box and desperately grabbed your hand, slipping the shiny diamond on before you could even protest. “I had it made for you, Y/N! Pure diamond, princess cut. It’s even engraved with your name baby! Please...”

You had to admit, you wanted to break down as Bokuto began to cry, looking awfully small as he kneeled by your feet. To make matters worse, he kept kissing your hand and mumbling tearful apologizes that yanked at your heartstrings.

By now, your initial exterior had began to crumble. Pain began to surround your heart, squeezing it so bad it almost felt like you were burning. A swell of tears gathered in your eyes, and you almost, almost gave in.

You almost sank to your knees and cried with him, almost pulled him into your arms because you didn’t wanna let go. You loved Bokuto, you truly did, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.

He was a good man, that probably made an honest mistake. He was everything you had ever wanted. And you were so tempted...so tempted to give in. Until you realized that you deserved better.

“I’m sorry,” Sniffling slightly, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and shook your head. “But I need to go. I can’t stay here anymore Bokuto...you ruined this. You ruined us, and now you have a woman in there carrying your child. You have the family you’ve always wanted. Don’t ruin that too.”

Hastily, you leaned down to press a bitter kiss on his forehead and then stood back up. Bokuto sobbed as he watched your figure retreat, standing high despite the heartbreak.

It was then that he realized that even though you were letting him go, you’d be just fine. You’d pull yourself together eventually, you were strong like that. You didn’t need him, but god, what about him?

He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. He could barely even breathe and you hadn’t even walked out yet.

Was this what it was going to feel like from now on? Empty, hollow...meaningless?

“Please.”

One last time, he cried out of you. He begged you to stay.

But you knew you deserved better than that.

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, you left him behind. Forever.

#suna x reader #suna angst #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #suna rintaro #bokuto koutaro #hq x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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beelspillowpet · 4 years

Note

Headcanons about how the side characters (brothers too if you want) act when you want to go for a walk late at night in the dark in the Devildom with them, but it might not be entirely safe since you're human.

Hey, anon! This is a CUTE!!!!! prompt! Nice and soft <3 Thanks for the request!

Lucifer

Was about to go out for a walk anyways. He really needed to cool off after dealing with the shenanigans in the kitchen regarding Beel and Levi.

He’s sort of glad you wanted to go for a walk too, but he’s not so foolish enough to think that it’s anything more than a mere coincidence.

The walk with him is quiet, but every now and then either of you will strike up a conversation. Mostly him. It’s usually about his brothers, or your time here in the Devildom.

After your walk together, he feels rejuvenated. He doesn’t try to show it too much, but he enjoys his time spent with you. He starts to ask you to go on walks with him from time to time now.

Mammon

Walk yourself! Damn human...

That’s what he says, but he obviously comes running out after you. You didn’t give a damn; you were getting out of that house one way or another. Whatever happens, happens.

That’s what you told Mammon, and he nearly smacked you over the head for it. Be glad you’re a weakling human. The GREAT Mammon is now your bodyguard while you have your stupid little walk...

He doesn’t stop talking the entire time, though. Stupid human this, dumb brothers that... It almost makes you wonder why you asked him to tag along. Your eyes meet for a moment and for a moment he stuttered to a stop, blushing. Oh yeah. That’s why.

Leviathan

Ew, working out? Are you on drugs?

Well, that was a little harsh... but still. Walking is for normies. And Beel. Though I guess he sorta... jogs. Is there even any difference? GRAAAH! Fine. I need a break from this level anyways, it’s been kicking my ass for the past hour!

That’s all he says, before he’s out the door with you. He’s very protective of you on the walk, and when other demons are walking by, he wraps his tail around your waist possessively. You think it’s pretty cute.

What isn’t so cute is how exhausted he is so quickly. It astonishes you, honestly. The walk to RAD is longer than the distance you two have walked so far. I guess that’s probably why he doesn’t show up there often.

Satan

Oh, that sounds lovely. He eagerly complies with you, ready to get out of the house at the drop of a hat.

He’s not ashamed to show it either. He would rather you come to him first when you’re excited for new scenery, so a walk sounds like a perfect way to ease into all of that.

He’s the one walking you, though. You’re dragged all over the Devildom with him, when you wanted “a peaceful stroll under the constant watchful gaze of the moon.”

He stops and looks at you. “That was very poetic.” He doesn’t mind showing how impressed by your eloquence. He decides soon after though, that you’re right. You DO seem pretty tired, so he’s taking you home. Enjoy the long walk back!

Asmodeus

Of course darling! Just as long as it’s a short stroll. Maybe you two can get some pretty Devilgram photos by that rose bush near RAD too?

He does not like walking for too long. Doesn’t want to break out into a single sweat and oh! People walk their dogs there, be careful of poop on the ground, will you?

A good portion of the walk is him talking about himself, or talking about a party happening around the way. While tempting, you were no where near dressed for the occasion.

Well don’t you worry, Asmo always comes prepared! He has a change of clothes in his bag for you, and you’d fit it too! Congrats! You’re now stuck at a party, when all you wanted was a quick outing!

Beelzebub

Oh, sure! He loves going for walks. Or jogs. Or runs. Usually runs, because more calories are burned. But if you want to go on a walk, a walk is fine too. Just don’t be surprised when you only burn half as much as-

You’re already walking ahead of him. It’s not like you didn’t care- well not that much if you’re being honest- but you just wanted to get away from the house. Being in a house where chaos is right around the corner (literally) puts you on edge sometimes.

Beel can appreciate the quiet of your walks together. He assumes you wanted it to be as peaceful as possible, but something about him always makes you feel uneasy. Like he’s hiding something heavy on his conscious. At some point he even whispers, “You’re still here.” Whatever that means.

You decide to keep walking with him from time to time. You’re curious to see if he’ll ever open up to you, or if you’ll just have to be that “annoyingly curious” (Mammon’s words, not Beels) human that you seem to be so well.

Belphegor

No. That’s too much effort. Going places???? But why though.

In the same fashion as Mammon, though, he comes after you when you leave the gates. Like HELL is he going to let you off on your own.

He complains part of the time while out, but figures you aren’t listening that much. Most of the walk is quiet after that, and he almost feels awkward, having complained so much at first.

He almost wants to speak up. Have a heart to heart with you. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but there’s a nervousness scratching at his throat. He decides against it. Next time, he thinks.

Diavolo

Oh a walk sounds fun! He knows a few pretty spots to walk on. Or maybe his private beach would be better suited?

He gets on his running shoes and more comfortable clothes and is out the door. He’ll be back... eventually!

Oh, you meant the two of you? Well, er... that’s fine too! His point still stands. It’s dangerous for you to go alone anyways.

The walk is peaceful, but filled with chatter. Much less about your time in the Devildom, and more out your very different way of life in the human world. He wants you to be the one to talk, and for him to listen for a change.

Barbatos

A walk sounds delightful.

He would be happy to accompany you on a quick stroll to relax your mind. He is silent the entire way, however, speaking when spoken to.

It isn’t much, but it’s enough for you. He’s grateful for that. Occasionally he will ask if you would like a quick break, or to stop in this or that place for a treat.

He’s grateful that you wished to take him away from his responsibilities, even for a brief moment. It shows character in you. That you really do see him as more than a butler, for some reason. He wouldn’t mind more walks with you in the future.

Simeon

Oh a walk sounds fun! We should probably bring Luke with us right?

Yeah, probably not. People would confuse him for our child together! Wouldn’t that be funny, though?

Walks with an angel sounds pleasant, and that’s exactly what it is. Its filled with fun chatter about life, about RAD, about this exchange program. The entire time, he’s assuring you that no matter what, he’ll always lend an ear to listen.

Will always walk you back to the gates, and wave goodbye. You usually feel like you could walk for longer with him, but he figures you might be tired. Ever considerate, he let’s you go before you talk each others ears off.

Luke

Isn’t it always nighttime here...? Either way-

Sure! He knows this nice little cafe you and he could go to for a pit stop!

There’s also this nice little animal park you two could visit afterwards, where the pets run with their leashes off. Maybe you’ll get lucky and pet one or two?!

He secretly doesn’t know why you asked him to walk with you. Could it be because you feel safe with him around!? Is it because you needed a break from those nasty and mean demons? ESPECIALLY Lucifer!? He gets it! Wholeheartedly! He’ll protect you, MC!

Solomon

:)))

He’s glad you asked him. A nice walk in hell with your local sorcerer sounds crazy, but it’s anything but. At least for now.

He probably does drag you into something crazy, like suggesting potions for you to try for this or that.

He might take you to Hocus Pocus without you even realizing it. Never mind it, you probably should have just stayed home! Still though... that sorcerer does have a pretty smile. it might be worth the long trip to Hocus Pocus after all...

#obey me #obey me headcanons #om!#om! hcs #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Family Troubles

Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic

Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.

Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 4.6k

You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living.

It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances.

It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship.

She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron.

The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.

JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here.

Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.”

Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”

You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”

Maria nods. “Okay.”

She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too.

The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.

Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible.

When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”

“Okay...” You say wearily.

Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news.

“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”

You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”

“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.

Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet.

But the knocking persists.

“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”

JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step.

John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”

JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body.

JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead.

“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh.

JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”

"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”

“What -”

“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”

“She’s not here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition.

Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm.

Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”

Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.

When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”

“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”

“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old.

“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”

“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside.

You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.

But maybe it could.

You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention.

You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that.

You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?

Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?”

You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland.

“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple.

“Are they...nice?”

JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”

“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home.

“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”

“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues.

“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight.

“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy.

“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”

JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible.

Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”

Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay.

Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B.

And he didn’t know what that meant for his family.

John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.”

Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”

“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”

“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue.

John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”

“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”

JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window.

“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.

“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”

“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests.

“She’s always -”

JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously.

You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately.

You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn. Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs.

“Y/N...” Maria says wearily.

“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled.

Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug.

But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.

Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression.

“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude.

Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door.

“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”

“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him.

“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”

“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly.

John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.

“It’s a long story -”

“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”

JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”

John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”

“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”

“It’s not! If you would just listen -”

“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”

“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”

“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”

“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”

“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively.

“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.

John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows.

“What?” John B says.

“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”

John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”

“I am!”

You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches.

You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”

“Y/N...”

“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging.

John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.

“Okay,” He agrees.

You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone.

You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you.

Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother.

Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love.

“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment.

“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life.

When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst.

“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.”

You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”

After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.

“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.

When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.

When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago.

“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”

“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”

“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds.

You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself.

“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.

“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”

You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”

“But -”

“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”

“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.

You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”

John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.

“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”

John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he��s nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.

“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”

John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #obx imagine #routledge!reader

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sergeanthopeless · 3 years

Text

female Byleth S-supports ranked best to worst

(keeping my personal feelings about the pairings themselves to a minimum)

(Gilbert and Alois omitted, since those are platonic S-supports)

(warning: long post)

1. Seteth

This S-support is about as romantic as it can get. This thing just makes my heart flutter every. dang. time. and it’s easily the best S-support in the whole game for female Byleth. There’s a REASON why a lot of people hop aboard the Setleth train after witnessing this masterpiece.

Sure, Seteth lectures his way in and out of the proposal, but let’s be real, if it was any different it would be out of character, and acting the responsible advisor is just part of his charm. Plus, he pledges utter devotion to Byleth for the rest of his existence, and we essentially get wedding vows out of this one. It doesn’t get better than that!

He’s so self-assured during this S-support, and that’s sexy. But he is patient and affectionate with her, and takes the time to make sure there’s no room for confusion. He clarifies that his feelings are not those of duty (which is a problem with some other S-supports), or an interest in perpetuating a Nabatean or Crest-rich bloodline. It’s very clear that he just wants her, and that’s it. But where others put Byleth on a pedestal, this S-support feels like an exchange between equals.

Byleth’s reaction to this one is particularly noteworthy — there’s an unusual amount of emotional expression from Byleth during this S-support, INCLUDING A FRIGGIN BLUSH! Byleth does NOT blush often during these supports. Plus, Byleth asks Seteth to promise that he’ll follow wherever she goes. Unlike some of the other S-supports, it’s very clear that she’s invested in him and wants him.

Favorite quotes:

“I cannot conceive of a world without you in it.”

“I love you, deeply. Will you marry me?”

“From this day forward, I will always be at your side. Through good or ill fortune. Through the greatest of joys and the worst of woes. No matter how daunting the task, I will be there.”

“Courage, my love. Let us go forth and face the world - together.”

2. Hubert

I was genuinely caught off-guard with Hubert, especially since I haven’t played Crimson Flower yet and have gotten all of my impressions of Hubert from the fandom. A pleasant surprise, though, and pleasant enough to snag the #2 best S-support!

He starts with advisor nagging, which is no surprise since that’s his character. However, he doesn’t take too long to get to the point of the conversation, and everything is straightforward yet sweet. It’s very cute how he flustered he gets in the beginning, and his self-consciousness about his suitability as a husband is really sweet. But what really clinched this for me was the privilege of seeing a BLUSHY HUBERT! This surprisingly lovable psychopath gets so dang worked up and excited over Byleth giving him a ring and proposing to him right back.

Favorite quotes:

“[I’d] rather you be with me rather than some dubious individual.” (Yes, I altered the quote, but let’s be real, he wasn’t talking about Edelgard there.)

“I once thought killing you would be a great challenge, but the real difficulty was declaring my love.”

3. Ignatz

This S-support starts with an angry Ignatz, which had me worried. Ignatz is one of those characters where I expected his apparent youthfulness to cause a problem in his S-support (it definitely causes problems in other S-supports), even though he’s actually 17 at the start of game like Felix, Dimitri, Claude, Raphael, Ferdinand, and Edelgard. So I was pleasantly surprised by the sheer maturity of his proposal!

While he’s definitely self-conscious and doesn’t even expect Byleth to accept his proposal, it says a lot that Ignatz still had the guts to do the proposing. While he expresses surpassing admiration toward Byleth as someone who supported him through troubled times, he’s not dependent or subservient. Yes, there is a prominent fixation on Byleth’s beauty, but he’s an artist, so I think that adds more meaning to what would otherwise be an extremely shallow point to make during an S-support.

Favorite quotes:

“You are my goddess.”

“You soothed my troubled soul.”

“My beloved goddess.”

“I want to love you for all eternity.”

“I love you with all my soul.”

Hoo boy, this boy’s got a serious SILVER TONGUE on him! *fans self*

4. Lorenz

Regardless of how you feel about Lorenz, you’ve gotta admit this is a pretty flawless proposal. He reminisces about and apologizes for the trouble he used to cause as a youth, has a smooth transition into the presentation of the ring, and then his composure falls apart when Byleth reveals she’s been wise to him all along. He’s such a perfectionist, and his determination to propose perfectly is very consistent with his character. But I also appreciate that he made sure of Byleth’s feelings before actually asking her to marry him (ring presentation aside).

This S-support makes it very clear just how much Lorenz admires Byleth, which I feel is extremely important in context of his character. He can be incredibly self-centered to the point of being downright irritating, so the fact that he’s now talking about her and is focused entirely on her shows the sincerity of his feelings and how much Lorenz has grown as a person.

The bit at the end where he gets overexcited and uses his full name is hilarious, but I’m glad the S-support doesn’t end there, which would have taken away from it. Instead, it ends with Lorenz swearing to make Byleth happy and work with her in making the world a better place. Equal partners!

The last thing that really made this S-support for me was the voice acting. The broken voice, trembling, and stammering really added emotional depth to Lorenz’s character in this critical moment, and really brought everything to the next level in terms of overall impact.

Favorite quote: “Pedigree and status are no longer priorities for me. I now know that what matters most is the worth of an individual’s soul.”

5. Felix

The moment I noticed that this S-support was taking place at the training grounds, I knew it was going to be good. And it goes exactly as you would expect with our favorite tsundere, flustered and deflecting and all, but the sheer effort that he ends up putting into it is so endearing. And I adore how Byleth messes with him the whole time.

It starts rough, let’s be real. He just hands the ring to Byleth and tells her to “take this.” Oh, Felix. This poor boy is so. friggin. hopeless. You can practically hear his thought process leading up to this point. “How do I make sure Byleth never leaves?... Ah, marriage — yes, that’ll lock her in!” *facepalm*

But Felix’s body language is what really makes this S-support, starting with the finger point and then ending with the kabedon. Plus, we get a glimpse of something very rare: blushy Felix!

Favorite quotes:

“Fight me for the rest of my life.”

“I want you to be my wife. Please say yes. Let’s get married and stay together until we die. I love you.”

6. Balthus

I really didn’t know what to expect with this one, although to be honest, what expectations I did have were fairly low. Yet despite his faults, Balthus managed to scrape together a rather charming S-support! His nervousness and stuttering is adorable for such a big, tough-talking guy, and I love that we actually get an impatient “Just say it already,” from Byleth.

It was nice to see Byleth’s good influence on Balthus, although I’m not a fan of the woman-redeems-man trope. And considering that Balthus asks for up to 5 years to get his act together…that wasn’t exactly a point in his favor.

What made this S-support for me was all of the classic lines. Balthus isn’t necessarily a smooth talker, but it would be wrong to say that he doesn’t know how to talk to a woman. The proposal itself had me ROLLING: “Marry me, pal!” The voice acting was flawless, particularly when he said, “my love.” Balthus, I’ll say this on Byleth’s behalf: please stop trying so hard. And never say that again.

Favorite quotes:

“It’s time to take the biggest gamble of my life.”

“Comfort be damned! I need you by my side. Always.”

“Let’s get hitched right away! I know a guy.”

“To look after you...and be brave enough to let you look after me. that’s what marriage is all about, right?”

S-support portraits shouldn’t really matter here, but I’m going out on a limb here and saying that Balthus’ portrait is the best one of all Byleth’s S-supports.

7. Dorothea

I have a lot of Dorothea feels, okay? She’s my baby girl. And by this point in the game, she’s so jaded and used to disappointment that it just breaks my heart. So when Byleth proposes to her, you can hear the genuine emotion in her voice. She’s so in love with Byleth, but clearly talked herself out of it long before this moment. “You won the war. You could pick anyone in the world. Why would you…?”

And then she’s so happy. It’s not fancy, but her pure happiness really makes this for me. The hopeless romantic finally getting her happy ending is just really lovely.

Favorite quote: “I starred in so many operas where I captured the heart of my beloved. But I never dreamed that it would feel this wonderful when it actually happened.”

8. Ferdinand

Oh boy, Ferdie. There wasn’t much of a preamble, and the presentation of the ring wasn’t anything special. He’s still full of himself: “You hear noble Ferdinand von Aegir declare his love for you, and all you say is, ‘I understand’?” and this S-support is more focused on him than it is on Byleth, which is exactly the opposite of what happened with Lorenz’s S-support, even though they’re similar characters.

That being said, this S-support has its moments. We get a good reaction out of him (even though it’s over the top), and we get a sign of his personal growth when he reins himself in. The trembling and feeling faint is very cute (10/10), and considering his ambitious nature, him saying that he considers winning Byleth’s heart to be one of his greatest accomplishments is sweet, as is the way he dreams about their future.

In other words, this one starts rough, but ends sweet.

Favorite quote: “I need you as much as I need my next breath — more, even.”

9. Dedue

Can we just appreciate that Dedue chose to leave Dimitri for Byleth? That is so meaningful. Dedue spends the entire game unhealthily attached to Dimitri, and finally he finds something that he chooses for himself. Of course, there is the concern that he will become unhealthily attached to Byleth, but I don’t get that impression from his S-support.

There are so many wonderful little details in this S-support. The tiny, modest ring. The straightforward proposal. Both of them gazing at each other in loving, comfortable silence afterward. Byleth’s blush. And DEDUE’S LAUGH. Just. the laugh. It’s important.

Finally, Dedue invites Byleth to come with him to visit Duscur. TAKE NOTES, CLAUDE!! Anyway…

10. Edelgard

*takes a deep breath and sets aside my feelings about Edelgard’s stance on the Children of the Goddess*

Alright, so this S-support is significant because it’s one of the few where you can tell that there is genuine affection on Byleth’s end. She really takes charge of the proposal, going so far as to use Edelgard’s nickname, “El,” to convey affection and intimacy.

At first I was concerned when I heard Edelgard say, “This ring…thank you, my dearest friend,” and I was like HOLD UP – did Byleth just get friendzoned?? But Edelgard clarifies by expressing that she has romantic feelings too, which saves the scene. But while sweet, the rest of the S-support focuses on Edelgard’s ambitions and generally lacks romance. Fitting for her character? Yes. A satisfying S-support? Not really.

11. Dimitri

It’s clear from the beginning of this S-support that Dimitri and Byleth have become close friends. I appreciate the way they talk about their wounds, and although talking about Dimitri’s nightmares is far darker than I expected from an S-support, it shows just how much Dimitri has improved.

What disappointed me about this S-support is the lack of emotion on both sides. Sure, the “my beloved” pet name is wonderful. And sure, Byleth isn’t very emotional as a rule. But Byleth shows more emotional in other S-supports. And there is not nearly enough of a reaction on Dimitri’s side. Come on, dude. You’ve been aggressively simping over Byleth since Day 1, and you’re just taking this proposal in stride?? You should be unconscious right now.

12. Mercedes

I’m so proud of how far Mercedes has come at this point. She’s determined to live in a way that makes her happy, outside of her Crest or anyone else’s expectations. That being said, a lot of this S-support feels more like it could have been an A+ support.

Major points to Mercedes to being the one to do the proposing. A lot of people mistake her kind nature for being demure, which is not the case. She is bold, speaks her mind, and knows what she wants. And in this case, that’s Byleth. Her proposal is gentle and respectful, if a bit bland, and her reaction to Byleth’s acceptance is absolutely adorable. She’s so happy yet insecure, and I wish there was more communication from Byleth to reassure her.

13. Hanneman

Hanneman is an academic through and through, and his nature as a scholar comes through strongly in his S-support. He tries to approach things pragmatically, almost ruins things by talking about Byleth’s role in his research, but fortunately realizes that’s the wrong way to do it and takes a new approach with more feeling. It’s very similar to Linhardt’s S-support, but less self-centered and overall better. Hanneman treats Byleth as an equal, and shows enthusiasm in his own way.

Overall, this is an extremely pragmatic S-support, but it’s not without its charms. That being said, it definitely requires an interpretation of Byleth’s character where she has developed a taste for academia.

Favorite quotes:

“I suppose there’s no reason to hold ourselves back any longer.”

“I don’t want the power of your Crest - I want you.”

“I can’t wait to see the results of this undertaking.”

14. Yuri

This S-support is very consistent with Yuri’s character. The scene opens with Yuri trying to repay his “debt” to Byleth, which definitely lacks in romantic vibes, but works in context. It’s nice to see Yuri nervous and out of composure, but I admit I had been expecting…more…from him with how charming he’s supposed to be. Then again, like Sylvain, maybe the fact that he’s dropped the façade is supposed to make it meaningful. At least he blushes! Blushy Yuri is something I didn’t know I needed. The bit at the end where he whispers his true name in her ear is very nice, too.

But yikes…Yuri talks about his death. And considering that in most of the routes, Byleth ends up being most likely essentially immortal, this hits HARD. She is definitely facing the death of her lover in a few decades at most, and that is not something she wants to think about during a proposal.

Favorite quote: “In return for this ring, I ask for you.”

15. Raphael

Raphael is a pretty clueless, non-romantic kind of guy. But the sudden proposal is very cute. Considering how awful he is at expressing himself, it works really well with his character to simply have him jump right in and get it over with.

That being said, I couldn’t help but feel that his reasoning for getting married was just a little loose. He always wants to be with Byleth and expresses that he wants to serve as her knight. Uh, you realize you can do that without marrying her right, bud? Byleth didn’t seem to be very into this proposal either, although she does have a wonderful little smile in the S-support portrait, which makes up for that. I love how the portrait emphasizes Raph’s size and strength by having him lift her up bridal style. It’s an actually flattering portrayal of him, too.

Favorite quote: “And…I’ll love you. Forever and ever. And ever!”

16. Sylvain

Ah yes, Sylvain. Our favorite train wreck. The good news is that he’s finally taking charge of his life, and I like that he’s straightforward in this S-support rather than flirtatious, which means that you know he’s being sincere. It’s cute to see him genuinely happy, and his statement that “I’m going to spend the rest of our lives together trying to make you happy,” is very good.

However, the “If you told me you never wanted me to look at another woman, I’d go blind for you” is going too far. I know it addresses his skirt-chasing character, but I just don’t know if they could have a healthy relationship. I know this is rating the support scene, not the ship itself, but I don’t think that’s a positive indicator for the future.

17. Claude

This S-support gives me so many bad vibes. Yes, he expresses his love for Byleth as well as his utmost confidence in her, but dude, actions matter more than words, and your actions speak VOLUMES. He’s the only one to just run off at the end of the S-support, and while I understand his reasoning — I really do — it’s clear that his own agenda and ambitions will always come before Byleth.

This is what I heard: “Right now, Fodlan is like a newborn... so that’s why I’m leaving, so you have to do all the hard stuff yourself. See ya, sucker!!” Ah yes. Prime husband and father material there. Obviously.

“I’m sorry that I won’t be by your side at such an important event...” Uh huh, yeah right. You’re obviously itching to get out of there.

I’m sorry, Claude stans, but giving Byleth an engagement ring and then running away for who knows how long is LAME.

18. Jeritza

The first thing that struck me about this S-support is the fact that it takes place in the Agarthan HQ, Shambhala. This is super meaningful because it means that Byleth and Jeritza go there together to use their killing prowess to take out Those Who Slither in the Dark post-Crimson Flower. It’s a nice way to tie up the route. The portrait is super dynamic and unique, too. That being said…

He’s still fixated on killing Byleth. If that’s your thing, then hey, I can’t judge. At least we all know that if he hasn’t killed her by now, it’s never going to happen. It’s such an empty threat it’s probably an inside joke by now. But Jeritza’s clearly still figuring out his feelings, which means I’m not sure it really counts as an S-support (it would have made a better A+ support imho). There are also things about this pairing and S-support that have some serious implications for who Byleth has become by this point and what the future is likely to look like. Good storytelling, yes, but as an S-support…not my favorite.

Favorite quotes:

“It is you alone who can slay the demon inside me.”

“To the very depths of hell, I will tumble down with you.”

19. Linhardt

This S-support falls flat for me. It’s like Hanneman’s, but worse because it’s super self-centered. I feel like it’s a really bad summary of Linhardt’s character because so much more could have been done with it. Linhardt has lots of good traits, and this S-support ignores all of them. Instead, we have a one-dimensional S-support that focuses on Linhardt’s laziness and penchant for napping. He’s so self-centered and consumed by his own interests, so saying that he wants to study Byleth for the rest of his life makes her more like an accessory to his life plans rather than a central component. At least when Hanneman says he wants to study Byleth, he makes it very clear that he loves her and wants her as a person.

And the line where he says "I didn’t honestly think you’d reject me” is just…wow. Much disappoint. If I were Byleth I would turn him down on the spot just for saying that.

20. Ashe

Ashe’s S-support comes off to me like he’s pledging himself to her as a vassal more than actually proposing. Yes, he does take initiative and does the proposing, which is consistent with the fact that Ashe is a gutsy little guy. But he’s so stuck on being helpful that the S-support ends up feeling immature. Plus, Byleth doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about the proposal compared to other S-supports, and overall Ashe’s worship of Byleth comes off as more dependent than romantic.

21. Caspar

We’ve reached the bottom four S-supports, starting with this disaster. Caspar is juvenile, reckless, and oblivious. (Don’t get me wrong — I adore his character and see him like a little brother.) Byleth has to take charge of the proposal, which is not a problem in itself, but then Caspar confesses that he hasn’t even thought about marrying Byleth — or anyone at all! asaslkjasdflk FAIL

At least the victory shout is kind of cute…if painfully cheesy.

And they get worse from here…

22. Rhea

I don’t have a lot to say here. I know I said that I would keep my personal feelings about the pairings themselves out of this, but I feel like there are certain things about this particular pairing that need to be addressed along with this S support.

Age gap aside (because frankly with immortals, age doesn’t really matter anymore), Rhea CREATED Byleth’s mother, essentially making herself Byleth’s grandmother. Incest vibes, yo. Plus, she fully intended to sacrifice Byleth’s life in order to bring back Sothis — which, granted, is a sentiment that wears off, and Jeritza is just as bad in terms of original intent to kill Byleth. This makes any kind of romantic revelation on Rhea’s side just…weird.

There are some good quotes in this S-support, and we get a ton of reveals about Rhea’s character development in a short amount of time. She’s self-conscious of her other form as a dragon, she acknowledges the wrongs she did in the past, and she expresses a desire to repent. She acknowledges the pivotal role that Byleth has played through her choices and accomplishments, rather than attributing them to fate and the “flow of time.” But honestly this would be more appropriate as a final scene at the end of the game, not a romantic S-support.

23. Cyril

Oh boy. Where do I start with this one? It’s so bad...

This boy is BABY. 19 years old after the war? Sure. Attractive design? Yes. But still, he. is. BABY. And the S-support portrait makes it so much worse by making him look freaking TEN.

And he’s so, so oblivious. Even worse than Caspar. He barely has a personality as a character outside of being committed to the servant mentality, and he has had no opportunity to discover himself as a freaking person outside of his obsession with Rhea. It should be illegal to even consider this kid for S-support. One thing would be if it was platonic, like Alois or Gilbert, but Byleth gives him the ring, and that means it’s supposed to be romantic.

Plus, Cyril says that he loves Byleth, but it’s super casual and comes off more like familial or friendship love rather than romantic love. Unless I missed something, I don’t think Byleth ever says that she loves Cyril in their S-support. And the end is just the worst: “Love ya, see ya in the morning.” That’s IT???? There is absolutely no indication of a mature relationship, and that’s just scary and gross.

I just…really hate this S-support. There’s only one S-support that’s worse…

24. Sothis

Forget everything that I said about keeping my feelings about particular pairings out of this ranking. This is a TRULY CURSED S-SUPPORT.

I don’t care that Sothis is technically a goddess whose age is beyond counting or mortal comprehension. All that matters is she looks like a child. She is lolibait. And to top it all off, she doesn’t even have physical form (thank goodness) — she’s just an apparition in Byleth’s head!

And this quote? “I love you deeply! Overwhelmingly! passionately! Ours is a love without an end!” I only have two words: PEAK CRINGE.

It would be one thing if Sothis came back in her adult form. Or better yet, if she had always been in her adult form as portrayed in the fresco in the reception hall. You can do something with that. But that’s not the case, Sothis is portrayed as a pre-pubescent child in both appearance and personality, and that’s just pedophilia vibes, y’all. I can’t believe this is a sincere S-support option.

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

History: “Run Away to You” Part 2

How could you have protected me?

When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: Angst (Not gonna lie, this part is pretty angsty. Please don’t hate me, we have to set up the angst to get to the fluff later, okay??)

Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, mentions of anxiety, arguing, crying – there are a lot of emotions Reader and Yoongi have to process

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

Your hands shook as you tried to fit the key into the lock of your apartment door. You missed the keyhole twice, finally succeeding in twisting the lock open with a satisfying click on your third attempt. Swinging the door open with a sigh, you gestured for Yoongi to head in first. You hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since you left the corner store. The silence created a thick tension for the duration of your short, one-block walk.

He walked into your apartment without a glance in your direction, slipping his shoes off by the front door. As he stepped further into your apartment, you closed the door, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

Flashback

The first time Yoongi came to your apartment, you had been a nervous wreck. You anxiously kept glancing at the clock on the wall–he was supposed to be there at 8:00 p.m. It was currently 8:03 p.m., and you were already thinking he wasn’t going to show.

A costar on the K-drama you were cast in had introduced the two of you at an awards show you were invited to attend three months ago. Yoongi seemed nice, but quiet, shaking your hand politely and asking if you enjoyed your work. The conversation lasted maybe two minutes. Fleeting, meaningless.

Then you ran into him again two months later at an album launch party for another popular K-pop group. The conversation was longer this time, Yoongi slipping away from his bandmates to talk to you. The champagne you were drinking that night made you giggly, your cheeks pink from the alcohol. He asked for your number, a gummy smile appearing when you said “yes” a little too enthusiastically.

After texting casually, you progressed to phone calls, then video calls. This was the first time you were going to hang out together. Movies and takeout had never felt so intimidating. There was a knock at your door, and you sprang up to answer it. You took a deep breath, counted to five, and then opened the door, Yoongi standing there with a sheepish smile, donning a black hoodie.

“Hi, Y/N.”

End of Flashback

You spun around when you heard Yoongi cough, finally breaking the silence.

“Your apartment is different than I thought it would be,” Yoongi observed. He took off his hat and his mask, placing them on your coffee table in front of the couch. He shook out his hair, running his right hand through the dark locks. You swallowed hard, blaming the slight flush to your cheeks on nerves rather than how attractive Yoongi looked messing with his hair.

Your old apartment had been large and glamorous, outfitted with state-of-the-art appliances and expensive furniture. This one was a third of the size and infinitely cozier and more comfortable.

“Well, my old apartment was paid for by the production company. When I moved, I figured I’d get something a little more ‘me,’” you explained.

“Right. When you moved,” Yoongi emphasized, bitterness lacing his words. “You mean ran away, right?”

“Listen, Yoongi, I know you probably want an explanation–”

“I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow quirking up slightly. You had seen that incredulous look on his face before when you two had gotten into arguments.

Flashback

“Come on, Yoongs, you have to be better about taking care of yourself. This pace is unsustainable, and you know it,” you said to him angrily. You were sat on the couch in the Genius Lab, the man in question glaring at you from the chair at his desk.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Y/N, you were filming until 3:00 a.m. yesterday because you wanted the shot to be perfect. Don’t start with me on this,” Yoongi countered.

“But you’re here until 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. every night, Yoongi. Just because I do it once or twice a month does not give you an excuse to overwork yourself.”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear under his breath, turning back to his computer. You got up from the couch, standing behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers dug gently into the tense muscles of his back. Yoongi relaxed, slouching forward slightly at your touch. You brushed your nose against his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. You heard a tired sigh leave his lips, and you knew the argument was over.

End of Flashback

You figured you wouldn’t win this argument so easily.

Yoongi looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to start an impossible conversation.

“Yes, you’re right. You do deserve an explanation. And I did try to give you one in that letter, Yoongi.” He scoffed at the mention of the letter.

“Don’t even go there, Y/N. A letter telling me to let you go. Really? I wasn’t even worth an in-person goodbye? Let alone the fact that you could have just told me where you were going,” Yoongi started pacing, frustration evident in his voice.

You went to the kitchen, filling a glass with water before taking a long gulp. Your throat suddenly felt extremely dry. You knew he was going to be angry with you if he ever saw you again, but you weren’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions–anger, frustration, helplessness–that you were feeling in this moment.

You placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself, and Yoongi stopped pacing, waiting for you to say something.

“If I told you where I was going, I would never have been able to stop seeing you. And if I didn’t stop seeing you, then I couldn’t get a normal life back. There was nothing I could do but try to move on,” you said, exasperated.

Yoongi took two steps closer to the counter that separated the two of you. It felt like a chasm.

“We were together for six months, I lov–I cared about you. I could have protected you,” Yoongi said quietly, voice cracking.

You looked down, staring down at your knuckles gripping the counter so hard they were turning white. Your eyes started to burn with the effort to hold back tears.

“You, better than anyone, know what it’s like to feel like you’re suffocating. Constantly being watched and picked apart and prodded and asked for more. I was on the verge of breaking down. If I didn’t get out when I did, I would have lost myself. I didn’t have a choice. I had to leave. I didn’t…I didn’t want to leave you. But I had to.”

The tears were starting to fall, one by one, down your cheeks. You let them, still staring at your hands. As soon as the words started tumbling out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them.

“The entire time we were together, we were a secret. We were always at one of our apartments or your studio, sneaking in and out in the dark. So, how? How could you have protected me? When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?”

You wiped angrily at your tears, face burning at your vulnerability. Finally looking at Yoongi, you saw tears brimming his own eyes. He refused to look away.

“I ran because I didn’t know what else to do. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But you couldn’t protect me. I had to protect myself.”

Yoongi quickly blinked a few times, trying to rid himself of the tears threatening to spill.

“You never even answered your phone. I left you dozens of voicemails. I didn’t know if you were okay. You put me through hell. You could have at least just told me you hated me and that you wanted nothing to do with me,” Yoongi rebutted.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t hate you. If I had tried to say goodbye, to end things in-person, I never would have gone through with it. I would have stayed,” you admitted with a sob. “I would have stayed to be with you.”

“Would that have been so bad?” Yoongi asked, his voice rising slightly. “Would it have really been that bad to be with me?”

“It wasn’t about that! I felt like I was already sacrificing my sanity. What was I going to do? Hide away with you forever? I couldn’t even handle my own life, let alone if I became the public girlfriend of a BTS member.”

Yoongi’s lips fell into a flat line.

“That’s not fair. You can’t blame this on me and my career just because you couldn’t stand your own,” Yoongi’s voice was suddenly calm, but his eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “This was your choice. I would have made it work. I would have tried to figure it out with you and this new life you wanted. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond and defend yourself, but nothing came out. It felt like you had gotten punched in the stomach. You started to breathe heavily, panic quickly engulfing you.

You practically sprinted to the couch past a confused and startled Yoongi, sitting down on the couch and putting your head in your lap, counting backwards from ten and then starting over, again and again, trying to slow your heart rate.

You registered a body next to yours on the couch. A tentative hand reached out, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for your breathing to return to normal.

You lifted your head slowly, not knowing how long had passed. You didn’t dare look at Yoongi yet.

“When did you start having panic attacks?” he asked gently.

“Over a year ago,” your voice was scratchy from your heavy breathing. Yoongi tensed at the mention of the time spent apart, now seeing one of the repercussions of the stress that you had alluded to while you both were arguing about your mutual history. He didn’t move his hand from where it rested on your back. “I’m really…I really am sorry, Yoongi.”

“I know,” his voice held a level of understanding in it that it didn’t before. He paused, his hand lifting from your back. “I think I should go.”

You remember what it felt like a year ago to write the letter that would end things with Yoongi for good. It was like your heart was set aflame, burning in pain at your choice to walk away. A year later, Yoongi was the one holding the match.

He stood from the couch, grabbing his hat and his mask. You watched him put on his shoes from your spot on the couch, unmoving.

“I meant it, you know,” Yoongi said, his hand on the doorknob, ready to walk out of your life like you had his. “I would have tried.”

“I know,” you repeated his words, a sad, tight-lipped smile painting your lips. He walked out the door.

---

Once Yoongi left, you raced to your bedroom, pulling open the last drawer of your dresser and throwing the sweatshirts that lined the bottom onto your carpet. There it was, in the back right corner–the phone that you stashed away a year ago, the phone number still active just in case.

You grabbed it, trying the power button hastily, but it didn’t turn on.

“Ugh, come ON!” you yelled to your empty apartment in frustration. You plugged it into the charger on your nightstand, waiting for it to charge.

You picked off your nail polish, your nails bare by the time you tried to turn it on a second time. This time the screen flashed white. You ignored the pit in your stomach, sinking to the floor with the phone grasped tightly in your hand. You sat with your back to your bed, the phone cord stretching to reach you.

Ignoring the red icons alerting you of the dozens of missed calls and texts, you went straight to voicemail, scrolling rapidly with your thumb until you reached a voicemail from this date last year.

You pressed play.

Hey, babe, why aren’t you answering your texts? Marianne dropped some paper off for me today, apparently, but I haven’t had a chance to swing by the studio to grab it yet. Call me when you get this, okay?

Your fingers moved on their own to play the next one.

Y/N. You need to answer your phone. This letter I…I’m worried about you. Please, you can’t do this. Don’t leave me. Not like this.

Tears began to stain your cheeks as you listened to Yoongi’s voice go from fearful, to angry, to desperate, all within a span of a few hours, then days, then weeks. With each voicemail, you started to feel worse, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to keep going.

Just tell me where you are. You don’t have to talk to me, but I need to know that you’re okay.

The last message from his number was from seven months ago.

I get it. You don’t want to see me. Probably ever again. So, I’ll do what you told me to do. I’ll let you go. But just know, Y/N, that I loved you. And I think I might always love you. I hope this new life you have makes you happy. I wish I could have made you happy enough to stay.

You let out a quiet sob as your fingers dialed one of the only numbers you had memorized.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Why are you using this number?” Marianne answered on the second ring, immediately alarmed.

“Marianne, can you come over? Something’s happened.”

---

“Y/N? Where are you?” Marianne called into your apartment. She had used her copy of your apartment key to get in the door when you didn’t answer her persistent knocks.

You sniffled in response.

Marianne looked into your bedroom, seeing you curled into yourself on the floor. You hadn’t moved since you listened to Yoongi’s voicemails.

She sat beside you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. You couldn’t help but wish it was him here comforting you instead.

You had suppressed your love and feelings for him for so many months. Today, you had to confront them, confront the power Yoongi still had over you.

The pain and hurt splashed across Yoongi’s face was fresh on your mind as you cried into your friend’s arms.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

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#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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omegasmileyface · 3 years

Text

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

#danny phantom #my writing #danny phantom fanfiction #ghost king danny #gkau crack baby !#ive been referring to this in my head as 'the wendys story' even though having it be a chain fast food restaurant doesnt quite work #ghost king hcs here very inspired by heavy on the heart light on the head by gothmoth and the a king in chains series by five-rivers #with some Pizzazz thrown in!#throne in . ha #one day ill come up with a complete and proper hc set for it but Not Today #me writing the sentence 'danny made senior year with all as and bs': dont cry dont cry dont say 'god i wish that were me'#oh also bear in mind ive never worked at a restaurant #unedited bc im impatient 😔

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angstyshippergremlin · 3 years

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Fanfic Ideas for The Locked Tomb That I Will Probably Never Write

1. Harrowhark Nonagesimus, aged nineteen, wakes up to find herself in her five year old self’s body. She’s back on the Ninth, and the events of the series haven’t happened yet. Cue Harrow having a truly epic existential crisis as she gradually realizes that this is happening, and is not in fact a hallucination. She comes face to face with a six-year-old Gideon, alive and (not necessarily well, considering) but here, and Harrow realizes she has another chance. This time, she will keep Gideon with her...not through force this time, but through love. She goes to war with her parents and the entire Ninth House to show them all what Gideon is worth. Gideon spends a lot of time being confused, because from her perspective, Harrow went from being an asshole to someone she could really start caring about seemingly overnight. Then something happens (like maybe Crux punishing Gideon, and maybe it goes too far. Harrow intervenes, and maybe she miscalculates somewhere and ends up seriously wounded (like, dying levels of hurt), with the last thing she sees before she passes out is Gideon’s horrified face. Then she wakes up again, at a different point in her past. She tries again, and eventually learns that if she or Gideon dies, it resets the loop again. She never starts at exactly the same point. She and Gideon eventually make it to Canaan House, and the loops continue, but now they’re triggered by the death of anyone from any of the Nine Houses. Harrow begins to question whether she’s doing right by anyone (especially Gideon) by holding on so tightly. And she desperately wants the loops to stop. Because she’s been consciously making an effort to be kinder, Gideon no longer hates her, but Harrow is seriously starting to wonder if she’s doing the right thing. Yes, she’s been trying to save everyone, but she’s also questioning her motivations. Like, she literally started the loops with one goal: to save Gideon. But Sixth and Fifth have grown on her, and she’s even developed a fondness for the Fourth, and even has a certain amount of sympathy for Ianthe. But some part of her knows she would let the universe burn to save Gideon. And she slowly becomes more and more convinced that she will never be worthy of Gideon’s affection, and eventually decides to let her go, if that’s what she wishes. After all, she’s spent what feels like an eternity trying to fix things and keep Gideon with her. What if the only way to save her and everyone else is to let go?

2. Reincarnation AU where Harrow remembers, but no one else does. Gideon comes into her life again, all fire and warmth and irreverence and laughter, and Harrow cannot help but fall in love again. Too bad Gideon doesn’t seem to notice her existence. And perhaps it’s for the best, she thinks. Gideon suffered enough the last time around. Meanwhile, Gideon finds herself drawn to the petite girl with dark eyes that seem to see everything, and wants, more than anything, to hear her laughter.

3. Gideon and Harrow raise their daughter together in a future where the asshole they called Emperor is dead, and Gideon is alive along with everyone else.

4. Modern AU where Gideon and Harrow are dating, and unfortunately, Gideon has to go somewhere while Harrow is buried in work. Cue Harrow making piss poor life choices (i.e., drinking twenty red bulls, six bottles of 5-hour energy, and 20 shots of espresso at the same time in one cup, then proceeding to not sleep for like a week). Camilla and Palamedes have to find some way to keep her in one piece. Ianthe is there, too, recording the entire clusterfuck.

#the locked tomb #gideon the 9th #harrow the 9th #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #griddlehark #fanfic #palamedes sextus #camilla hect #ianthe tridentarius

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shoutoismybaby · 4 years

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Omega Shame Part 1

Summary: After spending most of your life on suppressants and ignoring your second gender, you finally decide to embrace who you are with your alphas support. But what happens when your alpha Bakugou walks in on you nesting and sparks memories of your past trauma?

warnings: ABO, Nesting, ANGST ending with fluff,

***

Nesting. This was something you hadn't even attempted since you were but a small pup. Both suppressants and fear had kept any desire for this activity far away from you, until a couple months ago. That was when you got a courting proposal, your first ever.

It was a necklace, and not just your typical alphas 'just learned how to make jewelry with string'. No. This necklace required welding, a skill you had no idea about, but that just made sense for your alpha to poses. The chain was a simple silver, leading down to a locket with intricate holes on its top layer, creating an almost explosive like design. The cloth that sat inside was a ruby red color that matched the alphas eyes, and the scent it held was strong of caramel and ash.

Of course if Bakugou was to make a courting gift, his was going to be the best you had ever seen.

You had wasted no time in placing the necklace around your neck, relaxing as his scent filled your nose. It was from this point that you knew Bakugou would make an amazing alpha for you. After all, if he put so much effort into the courting gift, you could only imagine the effort he would put into courting you. Even then in typical Bakugou fashion, he passed all expectations.

It started with the way he would make you lunches, walk you to wherever you needed to go, and made sure to give you a thorough scenting only after he got permission. He always showed concern for your physical and mental wellbeing, stopping you from pushing yourself too hard in training and even scolding you for your self deprecating jokes.

“No one gets to talk down about my omega. Especially not my omega.” He had growled at you once. Again Bakugou did something unexpected, making your omega purr at a growl.

It felt so nice to have someone who cared about you. Someone who encouraged you to stop hiding your second gender from everyone but those in your own class. Not that you had even let your class discover on purpose, but the stressful situations class A had gotten in over the years did wonders for wearing off suppressants and scent blockers.

He, along with your other classmates, had been building up your confidence in your secondary sex for years now. Bringing you to the realization that being an omega didn't mean that you were weak or any less than betas or alphas. Momo and Ochako were omegas after all, and they were some of the strongest people you knew. So once you had gotten an alpha your omega was basically begging to be set free, and you didn't feel like you had to deny it anymore.

So here you were, after 3 months of being off of the medications your hormones and instincts were finally leveling back to normal. It was something you had never experienced before, but you had Bakugou to help support you along the way. That's why you needed his scent in your nest. No matter how nauseous you felt walking into the young alphas room while you knew he was training, your omega refused to continue the day without at least one peice of his clothing. More than that and you were sure you would be sent into a panic attack. You had no idea how he would react to you doing this. Would he be disgusted? Angry?

Ironically the only thing calming your thoughts was to continue building the nest. Pillows upon pillows methodically shoved between various stuffed animals and blankets became nest shaped as the time passed. Soon enough you were left with just one item left, one of his favorite skull shirts. You had wanted to take something he would miss less, but they weren’t drowned in his scent like this one was. You sat back into the middle of your nest to take a thorough look around. You didn’t want to take too long to decide a place for it by now as you were getting tired. Not to mention you were going to go out on a movie date with Bakugou so you also needed to get ready for that. You would have checked the time if you weren’t so fixated on your task, and that would turn out to be a huge mistake.

You had finally found the perfect place for his shirt when you heard your door open from behind you. In the middle of slipping the clothing item over your pillow you froze as your heart began to race. Your omega knew it was an alpha before you knew who it was and she let out a chirp before you could stop it.

All you could remember was the first time this had happened, an Alpha walking in on your nest. You were seven, not old enough to even present as an omega but tendencies could show early in childhood. You were excited and happily humming as you arranged your blankets, stuffed animals, and your parents best smelling clothes into small yet sturdy walls in the shape of an oval on your bed. You couldn’t help but feel safe, like you would no longer fall off your bed in the middle of the night, or that monsters or other intruders would quickly avoid hurting you once they got just a single sniff of your parents alpha scents. You were proud when you were finished and immediately snuggled into it for a nap, only to wake up to the scent of rotting eggs. A clear indicator your father was both near and very angry. All the yelling and trashing of your hard work that happened next was just a blur. But you could remember how you felt the entire time so vividly. The way your lungs seemed incapable of taking in air, the trembling of your hands and especially the weakness in your knees. Most of all, you remembered the absolute terror as your safe space was invaded. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as fast as your heart would allow it, and you could only sit back and watch.

It was that day that you first became aware that there was something wrong with you. Something gross, weak, and worth hating.

That’s why even when the scent of Bakugou filled your nose, your heart still didn’t slow down. In fact, it only sped up when you finally turned around to look at him, all of the hope you had gotten by convincing yourself he would be happy you were embracing yourself quickly diminishing. His brows furrowed more than normal and his mouth was set in a deep scowl, slightly open just enough that his naturally large canines poked out.

He was angry.

“Do you not know how to answer your fucking phone?! You were so eager to force me to agree to this date and then you don't even respond when I-” Your thoughts were racing far too fast to actually hear what he was saying. Your omega could only think of one thing, your alpha was angry with you. You messed up and now he was angry with you. It was just like your parents, you should have listened to them when they told you it was stupid to nest.

But you had worked so hard on it, and it made you feel so good. You didn’t want your nest to be torn apart again. The smell of smoke wafted from the alphas' palms as you were too caught up in your memories to really hear him. Hear how he was angry with you for forgetting about your date, angry that you had stood him up and too busy being upset to even notice that you were sitting in a nest. The smell of smoke invoked just another event in your mind, one that happened when you had first presented as an omega at 13. Something that caused the damn behind your eyes to finally break.

“PLEASE DON’T DESTROY MY NEST” You Omega sobbed, distressed chips flooding from your chest like air. “Please, please!”

Your outburst startled the Alpha into silence. He could only stand there and watch as his omegas scent was filled with fear as she wiped at her eyes aggressively. A first he was confused, letting his body pump out comfort pheromones instinctually as he let himself observe the situation. You were dressed only in your school uniform, clearly having been building the nest that surrounded you from the time you entered the dorm room to when he had burst into your room, now far past dark. You were trembling too, body curled up in on itself as you hiccupped and begged.

“Please, I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorryyy! Just please dont destroy my nest.” Your voice cracked and it resonated painfully in his ear and his heart dropped. Why did you think he would destroy your nest? Sure he wasn't the best alpha but he wasn’t a monster. Did you really think he would destroy the one place where you felt safest? A weight grew in his chest that left as a deep growl,

“Here.” He growled, “Probably best if we just end this bullshit.”

This was all your fault. If you hadnt built this stupid nest in the first place, or even started crying like a fucking baby then this wouldnt have happened. But you were a weak omega, and just like your parents said, no one can love someone so weak. Especially not someone as powerful as Katsuki. You shouldn’t have let yourself believe that they were wrong for even a second. You had thought that Bakugou would be the one who would love you for who you truly were. But that was naive. No one could love such a burden. No one could love you.

The drop of the crafted bracelet to the ground seconds before your door slammed, leaving you alone once more in your room, proof enough of that.

Your parents were right.

A flame of anger lit in your chest. Why were you so unloveable just the way you were? Why couldn’t you just be different? Why couldn’t you be an alpha like your parents had wanted?

You could feel your nails extend into claws as the hair on your body raised. You glared at the soft material weaved together around you as hot tears built up behind your eyes. This time instead of being fueled by fear they were fueled by rage and resentment.

You were so angry. So angry at youself, at your weak omega, and especially at your stupid nest. You couldn't help but let a couple tears fall as you let your anger get the best of you, and you didn't stop it until you were heaving in the middle of your disaster of a room. Surrounded by torn pieces of fabric and the other contents of your room scattered by your tantrum, you finally let yourself breath.

You turned around to see the item you had been avoiding, your pillow with bakugou's shirt. With a deep breath you grabbed a hold of the object, digging your claws into its plush softness. The caramel ash smell that permeated the air only helped to break down the remaining bits of your anger. And you didn’t want to be left alone with your despair just yet.

With the release of your breath a ripping sound could be heard. The shirt split and cotton popped out from the opening like popcorn. Once you had successfully dissected what had been a comfort item you threw it somewhere away from you and took another deep breath.

Now you were finally alone. Just you and your reality. You could really feel how much pain your omega was in as your hair began to lower and your normal nails returned. You had heard about this pain before. A deep one in your chest, heartbreak. Your omega seemed to curl around that feeling. Of rejection. Self hatred. That no one would ever need you, let alone want you. You could feel yourself start to slip into the limbo of numbness and searing pain.

An Omega Depression.

You remembered learning about it back when you were in middle school, most people were beginning to present as their second sex. Your teachers had emphasized how important it was to get medical attention at the first signs, you knew how dangerous it was, but all you wanted to do was lay there on the floor. You were tired, and what was the point? No one cared about you, not your parents… not Bakugou. Your throat strained painfully at that thought. Bakugou didn’t want you, and it was your fault.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha omegaverse #bakugou katsuki x reader #alpha bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha omegaverse

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years

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Once Upon A Dream | Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Characters: Kyoutani Kentarou, Reader, Aoba Johsai Club Members

Pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Genre: Fluff, just happy fluffy times

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, but if you see any, tell me please!

Word Count: 2111

Summary: For almost 3 years, Kyoutani had seen glimpses of your life in his dreams. It was his favourite part of the day. So, when you move to Miyagi, he's far too excited to meet you. Only, he doesn't know your name or your what you look like. And what's a soulmate supposed to do when you go silent at school?

A/N: This has sort of been shoddily thrown together to help me get out of my weird funk lately, but I like it, so sue me. UwU. Check it out, I posted it on AO3 too (here)

---------------------

Kyoutani hated school. Not for any other reason than the fact that the people just annoyed him - much less the fact that he wasn’t particularly good at his - his grades could attest to that. Sure, he loved volleyball, and that might’ve been his favourite part of the day; except his favourite part was sleeping. That was because during the times of slumber, he could see glimpses of what happened during his soulmates day - what happened during your day.

He’d never admit to anyone how happy it made him. He’d do anything to learn everything about you.

At this point, he was sure he knew just about everything about you. Most nights you’d feign studying to your mom - you’d always end up watching far too many episodes of the latest anime that had you hooked - even so, you somehow had almost perfect grades. Every time you were in lessons, you took notes effortlessly, though he only ever saw those notes during class. When you weren’t watching anime, you were writing, listening to music far too loud; a thousand playlists that he could never wrap his head around - he was never sure how you’d managed to memorise where one song in each playlist was all because it took you too much effort just to like it. You couldn’t sing very well, that didn’t seem to stop you - he thought the same about your dancing - but something about seeing a section of that from your day always made him extra happy in the morning. You got along well with your mom, most of those clips you were laughing about something incomprehensible. You seemed to get along with a lot of people, though your closest friends were a pair of twins by the names of Anaka and Anoko. You lived in Tokyo, which hurt his heart far too much than he’d admit.

The one thing that irked him was your dislike for sports, you put in little effort to gym every time. Waking up after those clips of your day were his least favourite thing - he’d even put school before that.

Despite the fact he knew everything about you, or as much as he could, there were two things he didn’t know: your name or your face. He hated that so much. It was as if you never looked at your reflection, or took any pictures of yourself. He had a basic idea of what your hair looked like, but most of the time the strands were out of his vision.

From what he could tell, you were in the year below him; it wasn’t that that particularly mattered to him, it just meant he’d been seeing your life for a year longer than you’d been seeing his life. For the almost three years that he’d been able to see you, you’d barely had two years.

One night, a week before he’d be transitioning into his second year, he’d dreamt of you:

The world zipped by through the car window; you rested your elbow on the door hands, leaning your head into your open palm, forehead pressed against the glass. The view wasn’t one he was used to seeing, it looked more like the countryside rather than the cityscapes; a gentle wave of sadness mused inside of you.

“I know it’s going to be a lot to get used to-”

“You have no idea…” you cut off your mother, not even bothering to glance in her direction. Sadness was replaced with an eruption of aggression. You hid it, opting to clench your fist. Your jaw tightened so much that it ached.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Her voice was soft. You let out a soft sigh, nodding slowly. “I mean, you were so happy when you found out what high school he went to. Although, even the idea that you’re going to meet your soulmate won’t take away from the fact we’re leaving behind…” she paused, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

You finally tilted your head to look at her. Something swirled in the pit of your stomach and you reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

There weren’t any more words needed between the two of you. It was easy.

Kyoutani woke up, running his hand through his short hair. That felt different than normal. He couldn’t explain it, not well, at least. And what had your mom said about meeting your soulmate? None of it made sense. Did you actually move to an entirely new place? Why?

It frustrated him more than it was worth.

----

Weeks passed and nothing.

Kyoutani had hoped for something, anything. There hadn’t even been a single sight of you in person. He saw you in his dreams; in class, your stare would be focused out of the window intently; you were quiet, rarely interacting with your classmates. You looked at them with such an indifference.

He loved the days when he could see you at home; you did your usual song and dance, but this time you had a small puppy at home. You’d shower it with endless affection. You didn’t seem to watch as much anime before - he even saw you studying sometimes - but the joy in his heart when he listened to you lazily sing an opening was unfiltered and so pure.

He still had yet to see your face, to hear your name.

At the start of volleyball practise, Oikawa announced that the team would be getting a manager - as long as things went well with them, that is. Most of them were confused, Kyoutani included, until Iwaizumi explained that unlike the others, and there had been so many others, this girl wasn’t interested in Oikawa in the slightest - in fact, she didn’t even know who he was. Kindaichi confirmed this, since she talked to him about this.

Out of nowhere, a girl appeared at the door, she seemed frazzled. Completely in a daze. By that point, Kyoutani had zoned out, choosing to focus on literally anything else.

He missed the looks she gave him the entire practise.

----

Sleep could not come sooner for him. He wondered what you were seeing right now, if you were even asleep; he wanted to know so badly what you thought of him, how you felt, he wanted to see your face. Just once. That was all, if he saw your face just once, he would be happy.

----

Time passed and still nothing. He hated it. He hated how close you were to him, yet how out of reach. Things didn’t change much. You were still as quiet as ever in class; you were still as loud as ever at home. He memorized each word you spoke like it was gospel, because what if you just happened to talk near him one day? How else was he supposed to recognise you if it weren’t for your voice?

He didn’t learn much about the new manager. She was quiet, too quiet. She agreed to things too quickly and acted like she would break. Because of that, everyone treated her like she was going to.

He had caught her staring at him a few times, something that pissed him off because he didn’t want her, he wanted his soulmate. Wherever she was…

If he were being honest, he’d really tried his hardest to find her. No one in particular caught his eyes. He searched every first year classroom several times a week to make sure that he had never missed anyone on any particular day, the idea that you could be somewhere else other than right there hurt him. He looked at the desk where you normally sat. Every time he went it was empty. It sucked.

Oikawa only noticed his mood get more foul as time went on - even managing to hold off on commenting about it considering how he looked like he might actually kill someone.

One night, during his dream, it felt like all the pieces finally fell together.

You stared down at the ground- were you wearing sneakers? -rubbing your thumbs together nervously. There was light conversation in the background. He couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said. Not until you stepped towards a bench, grabbing a vibrant yellow water bottle. “Thanks, L/N!” Kindaichi’s voice chimed, puffing out his chest. He was dripping with sweat.

You gave him a half smile before your eyes wandered around. This sight had become a typical one for you, watching the volleyball club running around and practising. Your eyes land on someone in particular and your heart races, although it doesn’t last long, not until he turns and meets your eyes, glaring.

Maybe you just had your hopes too high; he clearly wasn’t interested in having a soulmate. You turned your head away quickly. Giving him a side glance. “Oh Kyou…” you muttered, turning away.

Kyoutani shot up awake. Never had his body been more alert in the morning. The volleyball manager hadn’t just been some girl, but it had been you? All this time you never said a word to him about it, and he had just glared at you like you were nothing.

It made him sick. The idea that he had been hurting you.

Never had he rushed to get dressed faster. Never had he been so excited to go to school. His uniform was haphazardly tossed onto his body, he almost forgot his bag. Everything felt heightened. The wind was hitting his face harder than normal - that might’ve been because he was sprinting - the ache in his legs was nothing compared to the excitement in his heart. The closer he got to the gym, the more nervous he became.

“You’re here early…” Yahaba snickered - normally Kyoutani would have threatened the brunette, but not today. His eyes were almost frantic as he changed into his gym clothes, darting around like there was something big he was waiting for. Because there was something big he was waiting for. That was you. For you to finally appear. So that he-

“Good morning, L/N!” Kindaichi cheered towards the door of the gym, waving frantically at you. You smiled and offered him a small wave before yawning, glancing towards Kyoutani. When you met his eyes, you seemed to pause mid-yawn, tears building up in your eyes.

He walked over to you. Not really knowing what he was going to say. Not really knowing what he wanted to say. Just knowing that he needed to be next to you. To talk to you. To hear your voice again, right now, right in front of him.

When he stopped in front of you, you almost seemed scared, sucking in a deep breath and leaning back slightly. You averted your eyes, not wanting to upset him in any way. He didn’t move, not an inch. His eyes danced over you, examining every part of your face that he hadn’t been taking the time to examine. This was his first time actually seeing you.

“Beautiful…” it slipped out before he could do anything to stop it. A warmth rushed to your cheeks as you smiled awkwardly, looking away from him.

“Um… thank you… Kyou…” The look on your face could only be described as elated, even as you avoided his eyes, you knew he meant it.

All of the other members looked at you confused, trying to understand what Kyoutani had said that had made you so flustered. That was quickly washed away when he grabbed your chin, lifted your head up and smashed his lips against yours.

Your eyes shot open wide, body frozen before you seemed to collapse. His arm caught you, holding you against him with such a need that it was destroying you. When he pulled away, the gym erupted into screams.

“Took you long enough.” You muttered, gently punching his chest.

“I… I never saw your face before-”

“You see it every day?” You tilted your head.

“No. I mean… t-this…”

“Oh…” He didn’t need to explain. You knew exactly what he meant, “I don’t really like my own reflection. So I just… avoid it?” An awkward laugh slipped out.

“But you’re beautiful.” He caressed your cheek, such a softness in his eyes that you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Can someone explain what just happened?” Kindaichi yelled, eyes darting between both of you as you shared such a tender moment.

“That’s what a pair of soulmates looks like,” Oikawa mused, wrapping his arm around the first year, “well, at least she’s cute. Sucks she has such a… strange soulmate.”

Kyoutani slipped away and pounced on the setter.

You simply laughed at them.

After all this time, you’d finally met him.

--------

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thedistantdusk · 3 years

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over— but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. “This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.��

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.

#harry/ginny fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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