#at least keep your snot to yourself next time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

victoria-grimesss · 9 months

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->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.

->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation.

->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.

It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground.

“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.

“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck.

Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.

Then there’s Ghost.

He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained.

I mean who wouldn’t.

From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more.

You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them.

—

You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.

“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.

“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”

He laughs.

“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?”

You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.

“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.

You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.

“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.

“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.

“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.

“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”

You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.

“Really? You think so?”

“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”

—

“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.

You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.

“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.

“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good.

He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.

“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.

Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.

“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.

“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”

“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.

“Yea, for sure LT.”

You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.

You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.

“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?”

Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.

Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.

—

Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation.

A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.

The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.

3:18 a.m.

You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight.

The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.

“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.

“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.

Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable.

“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.

“The usual, nightmares again. You?”

“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”

“I understand.”

You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.

He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.

“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.

You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.

His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What if I do?”

Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.

He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.

“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do I want Simon?”

His lips grow sealed when you say his name.

“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”

His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.

You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.

The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.

Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.

—

“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.

A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.

“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…

You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.

“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.

Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.

“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”

You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.

“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”

He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair,

“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”

You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.

“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?”

Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.

“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”

You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.

“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.

“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?”

Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.

“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.

“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.

“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.

Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.

“What do you all say to a game of pool?”

“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.

“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.

“Very well, see you momentarily.”

Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.

He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.

“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.

“Not exactly.” He delfates.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”

“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.”

Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.

You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.

“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.

“I was looking for you actually.”

He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.

“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”

You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.

“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”

“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-

“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”

It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.

“Y/N.”

“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”

He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.

“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”

You sniff, the cold getting to you.

“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”

Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.

“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”

“Even better.” You smile.

“Fuck it.”

Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.

He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.

He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.

“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.

“Yea, yea it is.”

He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.

“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”

“You did just now love.”

Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.

He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.

“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”

You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.

“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”

“Very.”

Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.

“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”

Hypnotized you speak.

“Yes please.”

His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.

The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.

“You have a nice place.”

“Well now I know you’re lying.”

You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent.

“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”

He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.

“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”

“Ghost.”

“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”

“Fuck Simon.”

“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.

He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.

“So fucking good love fuck.”

He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.

You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.

“Simon.”

“Yea?”

“Do something.”

“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.

“Anything Simon!”

He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.

“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”

His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla.

He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.

“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?”

He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.

He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.

You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.

“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”

He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.

You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I can take it, just hurry up.”

“You’re always so impatient you know that.”

He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.

The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”

His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.

He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.

He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.

“So good, fuck so big Simon.”

“You take it so well, love.”

His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.

“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”

You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.

“Alright c’mon love.”

He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.

“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.”

His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.

“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.

“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”

He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.

“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”

He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.

You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.

“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”

The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.

“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”

The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.

“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”

“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”

Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time.

You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.

“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.

You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.

You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.

You laugh.

“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.”

He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.

“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”

“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”

“Your place works too.”

You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.

You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.

He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.

“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”

“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”

There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.

“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”

“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”

He sips his beer,

“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”

You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.

---

Tag list: @theredviolets

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jinwoosungs · 29 days

Text

{ 151 }

enough is enough.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ take me home, don’t shut me out | it’s easier to leave me down here on the ground | take me home, baby i’m fucked up now | i know it’s easier to leave me down here on the ground | ‘cause enough is enough… }

you had gotten into an argument with jinwoo, feeling your insecurities resurface the moment you saw him standing together with cha hae-in in a picture seen within a news article that detailed their latest raid together.

your phone lands against the hardwood floors of your apartment, the article that had jinwoo and hae-in together still seen against your phone’s screen. currently, your eyes blazing with fury as you kept poking a finger against jinwoo’s chest. “why the hell is she always standing next to you like that? you already know i had deep suspicions when it comes to her!”

jinwoo’s eyes were glowing purple in response, yet he keeps his hands balled up into fists, trying to ensure that he would not hurt you while you were in the midst of arguing with him.

“and the fact that she admits to being into you despite knowing your relationship with me just further annoys me! how could you be so comfortable with her proximity?!”

“you’re overreacting again.” jinwoo finally replies through gritted teeth, choosing instead to head to the fridge as he grabbed a bottle of water. you follow him into the kitchen with your arms crossed, frowning as your eyes continued to glare at him, watching him drink his water while trying to gather your thoughts.

despite being with him since he was an e-rank hunter, you felt as though you were losing the confidence to stay by his side with the way he was now-

a powerful and sought after s-rank hunter.

you didn’t know why you got so angry, so anxious, each time hae-in was close to jinwoo. hell, this wasn’t even the first time you blew up. each time the news or rumors began to surface pertaining to how perfect jinwoo and hae-in were together, you felt devastated.

but deep down, you knew it was because she was more fit to remain by his side than you ever could be.

cha hae-in was an s-rank hunter like him. she could fight by his side without any fear-

unlike you, a mere civilian.

not only was she powerful, but she was achingly beautiful as well. with golden hair and stormy, grey eyes, you knew that compared to her, you didn’t stand a chance.

“it’s such a mystery why you’re here with me.” you manage to tell him in a cold tone, willing yourself to cease caring when jinwoo stiffens in response. “in fact, i feel like you loved me more when you were still an e-rank hunter. i may have even preferred that you stay that way. now… you spend most of your days ignoring me, choosing instead to go on raids- i don’t even know you anymore.”

jinwoo’s eyes continued to glow a deeper purple hue in response when he sets aside his half-empty bottle of water, his tone filled with ice when he tells you, “oh yeah, you may be right then. maybe cha hae-in is more suited for me. at least she won’t constantly nag at me like you do.”

red hot anger (and heartwrenching pain) courses through you, forcing your body to act on instinct when you pick up the bottle of water and toss its contents onto jinwoo.

your eyes widen in response to your actions, seeing the way the water drips down his face and against his shirt. you felt a sense of guilt surrounding you, and when you tried to apologize to him, no words would come out.

jinwoo hides his gaze from you, making you uncertain of his true emotions when he takes quick strides away from you. only when he leaves (slamming your front door in response) did you finally slump down against the ground.

you were actively crying on your knees now, your sobs becoming so potent and painful that your chest ached in response. you felt nauseous, feeling the snot dripping down your nose as you allowed yourself to bask in this pain.

uncertain as to how much time had passed, you only stood back up when the ache against your knees became too much to bear. your hiccups echo throughout the now cold and empty apartment, and you harshly wipe away at your dripping nose. you let out a shaky sigh and forlornly speak to yourself, “you’re such a damn mess. there’s no way jinwoo will come back to you now- i’m such an idiot.”

believing that this was the end for you and jinwoo, you figured that enough was enough for him. he could no longer stand your constant questionings and insecurities pertaining to hae-in-

he was probably running into cha hae-in’s arms right now.

and that thought was enough to further break you.

still sobbing to yourself, you drag your feet across the floors. you pick up your phone and settle it on the coffee table, making your way back to your bedroom as you forced yourself to calm down with a shower. tasting the saltiness of your tears against your damp skin, you lick at your chapped lips and turn on the faucet, making it go as hot as it could go.

peeling off your clothes, you step into the shower and wash away your tears. you bask in the comfort of the hot waters, feeling the droplets soothe your aching bones and muscles. as you began to relax, you decided to spoil yourself a bit and cleanse your body with your favorite scented soap and shampoo. you remain in the shower for close to an hour, only stopping when you felt fully refreshed.

as you wrapped your towel around your naked body, you head back into your room to get dressed in your pajamas, ready to turn in for the night while trying not to think about how his side of the bed would be empty.

once you were fully dressed, you realized that your mind was racing too much to really fall asleep. so, you decided to cheer yourself up, instead. heading to your kitchen, you open up the freezer and got out your favorite flavor of ice cream, uncapping the carton while grabbing a shiny silver spoon.

with your ice cream in hand, you settle yourself on the couch and turn on your t.v. to a random channel, not paying attention to what was going on while digging into your ice cream. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same room that still held all of jinwoo’s belongings and already resigned yourself to a sleepless night on the couch.

yet in the midst of your moping, you heard a series of knocks coming from your door.

“sarang, it’s me. please, let me in?”

you drop your ice cream and spoon on the ground, recognizing jinwoo’s voice. the palm of his hand continues to slam against your door as a sense of desperation was heard in his voice.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you jealous. and i didn’t mean what i said about hunter cha being better for me. she’s a mere colleague, and she only likes me for the way i am now.”

“i’ll admit, she is powerful, and many consider her beautiful- but she doesn’t make my heart race like you do. being around her is stifling, since she only sees and knows me as a powerful hunter. i have to act that way around her at all times-

but with you, i can breathe. you have been with me since the beginning. you have seen me at my weakest, and still love me unconditionally. the same could never be said about hunter cha hae-in.”

you felt the tears streaming down your face as jinwoo stopped knocking on your door, seeming to slump against it as you heard a light ‘thump!’ coming from the door.

“it doesn’t matter, even if you leave me all alone out here, i’ll simply sleep on the ground until you forgive me.”

unable to handle the thought of leaving jinwoo alone, you stand and quickly open the door, revealing jinwoo with bloodshot eyes and a tiny smile. in his hands, you saw an extravagant bouquet along with a cute teddy bear in his arms with an ‘i’m sorry’ message written in a neat script on its plush belly.

letting out a happy sob, you wrap your arms around jinwoo’s neck, nearly crushing the bouquet he had bought for you.

“i’m sorry for throwing water at y-you, and telling you i loved you more when you were weaker… i love you regardless of your s-strength…” you tell him with a shaky sigh as your boyfriend returns your hug while letting out a soft chuckle. “it’s okay, i kind of deserved it; and i know that you love me unconditionally, like you always do.”

jinwoo continues to hold you in his arms before continuing to speak, “five minutes after leaving you, i deeply regretted hurting you and cried. i immediately called jinah for some advice… and after berating me and calling me an idiot, she told me to buy you your favorite gifts all while begging you to take me back.”

you giggle and give jinwoo a squeeze, silently thinking of the ways you could treat jinah for helping you and jinwoo make up.

“well, your sister just proved how much smarter she is compared to her oppa.” you giggle before taking the cute teddy bear and bouquet out of his arms, basking in jinwoo’s embrace as he presses a lingering kiss against your hair after he closed the door.

you stay in his embrace and sway against him. “jinwoo?”

“hm?”

you look up at him with a hopeful gaze. “did you mean… everything that you said? that you can breathe and be yourself around me… and not with cha hae-in?”

jinwoo gives you a smile while brushing back your hair. “i meant every word.”

after that single phrase, you felt all of your doubts disappear when he gives you a sweet, but chaste, kiss, feeling him smile against your lips before pulling away from you.

“let me continue making it up to you… how about i make you your favorite food as a late dinner?”

your eyes became alight with happiness with the promise of jinwoo’s cooking, making you follow your beloved boyfriend into the kitchen as he successfully continues to mend your broken heart with his loving actions alone.

a.n. - i finished making my presentations and am ready to present later on for my classes today, so i’m treating myself to writing another jinwoo story for good luck ♡ after all, writing about jinwoo gives me strength 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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harlowcomehome · 3 months

Text

Runaway husband:

Angst storyline!

⚠️: Slapping with open hand.

You woke up to the sound of muffled baby cries filling the room, that was your new “normal” since having your son just three short months ago. He had come down with a cold, which wasn’t abnormal for his age or the season but you were still internally panicking.

Your life was a lot different than you originally thought it would be. A year ago you would’ve thought you’d be married to the love of your life, your husband would be a doting father and beyond successful recording artist and all else would fall into place but life always has a twisted way of humbling those thoughts.

You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bedroom next to yours. “Awww papa, what’s wrong?” You whispered as you turned on the lamp that sat adjacent to the door, illuminating the room enough to get a good look at his face. His eyes were hazel, his hair was barely coming in, he was all cheek and chubby legs but even at his young age, you knew he was his father’s twin. You grimaced, wondering how this was all going to play out, “oh Emmett, mama has weak genes I guess” You rubbed your finger against his chubby cheeks.

Those close to you knew the truth, but most of the world didn’t even know you were pregnant and you wanted to keep it that way, it would be easier if Jack wasn’t involved. (At least that’s what you had convinced yourself of.) You had spent most of your time cooped up in your house, worried someone would catch a glimpse of your son and put the pieces together.

You took care of the built-up snot in his small button nose making sure he could breathe properly before you rocked him back to sleep in your grandma's antique cherry oak rocking chair. You knew he was in a deep sleep when he started to coo. You triple-checked the owlet smart sleep sock that your best friend swore by, and the baby monitor one more time before tiptoeing back to your room.

You knew you’d have a hard time falling back asleep, spending most of your early mornings googling Jack's name and wondering what he had been up to these days. A part of you felt a sense of guilt, letting him go on about his life without knowing he fathered a child, and the other part of you was elated you didn’t have to share him.

Jack had been spotted recently, it seemed he was dating a talent agent, his first real publicized relationship since the two of you split. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock the wind out of you and make you want to scream, the comparisons of her body and your post-baby body only making you feel worse.

You checked the time, knowing Louisville was only a few hours ahead sending a quick text before tossing your phone on the bed beside you and waiting. It never took her long to reply, it usually only took seconds and on the rare occasion minutes.

Your phone started to buzz immediately, she was always eager to speak to you.

“Hi Maggie” you spoke softly, not wanting to wake Emmett who was in the bedroom beside yours.

“Hi, sweetheart. How’s my Em doing?” She hummed, taking every opportunity given to her to ask you for updates.

“He's still fighting that nasty cold, but can’t wait for you to visit next week. It’s still just you, right?” Your sentences were laced with worries and concerns, it would be her first time seeing her grandson in the flesh.

“I made a promise that I intend to keep” she reiterated knowing you needed to hear it.

“Thank you” You bit back tears, never able to hold it back when you spoke to her. You continued the conversation for several minutes, neither of you bringing Jack's name into it for the sake of pleasantries.

••••

You often wondered how or when you’d have to tell Emmett about his father, and if Jack would ever be in the picture. As you fed your baby for the second time today, you pondered how this visit with his paternal grandmother would go.

Emmett was your entire world, your saving grace when life came crashing down, but you worried he’d resent you for keeping him hidden especially with all Jack had to offer.

Maggie had found out about your pregnancy when you were about seven months pregnant and when she saw pure panic and disdain in your face she knew that Jack wasn’t the least bit aware. You were visiting your parents and knew Jack was touring so you thought it would be safe to leave their house, but were met with one of the main people you wanted to avoid.

You and Jack had dated for less than six months, five months and two weeks to be exact before he was down on one knee in front of his entire family and friend group, announcing to all of them that he had found the person he’d spend forever with.

Your small friend group had never seen you so in love, not a single one questioning your timeline or relationship which was honestly a breath of fresh air. Jack had zero worry about your intentions, feeling like he could be his authentic self with you was a sigh of relief he had never felt before.

You were engaged and setting a wedding date just two months later, not wanting to waste any time. In the moment things just felt right, you had never been so sure and Jack hadn’t either but when he didn’t show up at your wedding venue things quickly went from passionate to devastating within moments.

You still remembered the sound of your red bottom heels clacking against the marble floor as you angrily searched the property for him, knowing he had to be around somewhere, his jeep still parked where he left it the night before. Your white wedding gown was covered in dirt on the bottom as you ran around in a panic.

Urban left the two of you alone only after you promised you wouldn’t lay a hand on him, your fingers sneakily crossed behind your back.

As the door slammed shut, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, the intense feeling of vomiting that hadn’t subsided for a while was coming over you, but you choked it down.

“What’s going on?” Your hands trembled and your voice shook as Jack sat before you with his face in his hands, his palms pressed hard into his eye sockets as he tried to contain his own emotions.

“I can’t marry you today” he finally spoke, looking up at your disappointed face. He hadn’t seen the wedding gown you chose until now, his breath wavering as you had never looked beautiful, yet so broken.

“Was it something I did?” You couldn’t fathom that you had done anything wrong, just two nights ago you were entangled in bed together, talking about the future as your naked bodies stuck together by beads of sweat.

“It’s something I did actually” he sighed, knowing he was too embarrassed to be completely honest about what was going on, trusting the wrong people wasn’t something he wanted to boast about.

“Jack- just talk to me. We can figure this out together” You were trying to hold your tears in, but were incapable of doing so. The weight of the world was on your shoulders and you’d give anything to keep him.

“I just don’t love you like how I thought” he lied, but he needed to hurt you. He wanted you to hate him, it would be easier than telling you he was nearly broke. He wanted you to run far and fast, away from his life that was about to implode.

Jack had always carried himself with pride, especially when it came to money. He made a lot of it, took care of it, invested in all the right things, and got a financial advisor to help him make the right moves, so when he found out the night before your wedding that someone on his team was embezzling more than half of his earnings, getting married was the furthest thing from his mind. He wanted to keep this under wraps, his biggest fear was coming to light and he didn’t want to entangle you in that too.

“That's fucking bullshit and you know it” You let out a humorless laugh, annoyed at his antics. “Tell me the truth” you pleaded, still standing in front of him.

“I don’t want to be with you! I need to be with someone on my level, someone who excites me. That’s why I’m not going through with this. You don’t even know me, we’ve only been together for what? Five whole seconds? ” he rambled on for as long as you’d let him, the metaphoric knife twisting and turning as you studied his face.

His eyes were hollow, with almost no emotion behind them as his tongue continued to spit venom in your direction.

Without thinking you slapped him, as hard as you could manage, a stinging in your hand as you threw your engagement rings in his face, a family heirloom from his grandmother.

“Fuck you! You’re a coward!” You practically spit on him, filled with rage and anger as you turned your back toward him and slammed the door shut. You had no idea what happened, the man you loved was someone you didn’t recognize and you didn’t believe anything he had said not even for a second.

Why wouldn’t he want to be with me? What happened? Is something threatening him? Am I safe?

Tons of things crossed your mind that night but you couldn’t place why you didn’t believe him, you still knew he loved you but you couldn’t make him choose you and you didn’t want to force it either.

That was the last time you saw Jack in person and you wanted to keep it that way.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you realized how nauseous you had been feeling. You took a pregnancy test and practically fell to the ground when the words immediately showed.

Pregnant.

Finding out you were with child wasn’t exactly the exciting news it would’ve been weeks ago but regardless you were going to have a baby even if you were going to do it alone.

••••

When Maggie didn’t arrive at your house when she said she would, you started to worry. You wondered if you should call, or go to the airport and look for her. You were worried maybe her phone died, or she got cold feet just like her son.

You started to pack Emmett’s diaper bag, having called Maggie twice with no response wasn’t sitting well with you. Your anxiety was heightened, and you felt a wave of uneasiness come over you.

You were concerned about the fact that Maggie had your address, wondering if she had shared it with anyone. You decided to pack to stay at your parent's place, hiding out there until you felt calm again.

When you suddenly got a notification from your ring camera, you checked immediately seeing Maggie get out of the Uber alone. You released a deep breath knowing she had kept her word, opening your door as she rushed inside.

You hugged her, and you felt your eyes sting as she held you tight. Her chestnut curls identical to the ones you missed holding close.

“It’s been so long” she smiled, looking around the room for a bassinet of some sort.

“He’s sleeping in here” You walked over to his bedroom, motioning for her to follow you.

The two of you stood above his crib, watching as he shuffled around. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she came to the realization that she was a grandma.

“He looks-“ she paused not wanting to upset you.

“Trust me, I know” you giggled. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. I’m going to put your bag in your bedroom. Just let me know if you need anything” You smiled as she nodded and took a seat in the rocking chair.

Maggie had only been at your home for a few hours when your doorbell rang, you had wondered if she ordered food delivery. When you checked the doorbell camera your heart practically stopped.

“Maggie—“You walked into Emmett’s room wild-eyed and stressed as you watched her rock him back and forth with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Why is your son here?” You were beyond overwhelmed, the room started to spin and you felt tingly all over, it wasn’t until you hit the floor with a loud thud that Maggie realized you weren’t the least bit joking.

When you were finally conscious you heard a faint voice you recognized, the distinct Kentucky accent rang in your ears as you overheard them talking. Clay had managed to put you on the couch, tucking a pillow behind your head.

“How did you find me so fast though? I don’t understand” Maggie was panicked, a tone that seemed genuine.

“You share your location with us. There’s no reason for you to be here so I came to check it out” Clay groaned replying very matter-of-factly.

“She's not going to let us see him, I know I messed up” She was being genuine and you could tell. Clay realized you were finally awake, as he held his nephew against his chest, he motioned to Maggie.

“She has to let him at least see the baby. He’s his dad” Clay mumbled, worried you’d overhear.

“Clay- bring my son to me please” You slowly sat up on the couch and held your arms out.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t tell anyone why I was here or what I was doing but I’m not sure if Jack knows where we are. Clay turned both of our locations off now” She was crouched down beside you on the couch as Clay carefully handed Emmett to you.

“I need both of you to sit down so we can talk about everything” Your lip quivered, knowing there was no way out at this point.

“When Jackman shows up, and I do mean when because I know for a fact that if you’re here it’s only a matter of time” You narrowed your eyes at Clay, not necessarily upset at him just defensive of the situation.

“I didn’t tell him” Clay sat up straight, leaning his elbows against his thighs as he leaned forward.

“You didn’t?” You looked over at him and then Maggie, wondering why everyone was so willing to let you keep such a big secret.

“I figured if you were hiding him, there had to be a reason” Clay shrugged, his eyes mulling over Emmett’s features as he waited for a response.

“If either one of you can tell me the real reason we didn’t get married, I might just change my mind.”

••••

Part two here!

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow angst #Jack Harlow fanfic

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leossmoonn · 1 year

Text

All Along

masterlist

pairing - xavier thorpe x fem!reader

type - smut, fluff 16+

summary - coming to xavier for comfort, you get something else

warnings / includes - language, smut with plot!! (sorry not sorry) bsf to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, cheating, toxic relationship, semi soft sex, body worship, first time sex, unprotected sex (this is fiction, use protection in real life) alternate uni where xavier doesn’t like Wednesday (romantically)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You wrap your arms around yourself tighter, sniffling as you walk through the forest. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, branches snapping with each stomp you make. You walk as fast as you can, needing some relief after the horrible fight you’ve just had.

Another argument sparked with your boyfriend. Surprised? No. Hurt? Yes. Annoyingly, so. Each fight seems worse, and no matter how redundant the topics are, your boyfriend manages to say worse things each time. You’re always left sobbing and alone.

But tonight you decided to reach out to the person who always told you to come to him when you needed a friend. You were going to see how well he was going to keep his word.

You softly knock on his door, shivering in the chilly night. You put your ear up to his door, hearing silence. You purse your lips and look back, debating whether or not to go. He doesn’t need to be bothered at this time of night. Not when it’s over relationship drama.

You begin to turn around, but you stop as you hear the door unlock. You turn back around, seeing Xavier in his pajamas and navy blue shirt. His hair is tousled and tangled, sticking up every which way.

“Y/n? What’re you doing here?” he asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, about to start crying again. Just thinking about your argument made you shed tears. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to articulate it.

Xavier becomes more alert as he sees a few tears run down your cheeks. He softly but firmly grabs your hand, pulling you into his dorm. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his long arms around your back. You melt into him, thankful for the warmth and the comfort. You begin to cry more into his chest, hiccuping and snotting all over his robe.

He rubs your back soothingly, presses a light kiss to the crown of your head. The hand that’s not rubbing your back cradles the back of your head, holding you ever closer. You two stay there for a few good minutes before you are ready to pull away and speak.

Your throat is scratchy and your eyes bloodshot. Streaks of tears seem to be imprinted on your face. Your lips are puffy and swollen, some snot drying from the corners of your nostrils. But Xavier notices none of that. He cups your face, wiping the remaining tears with his thumb. His brows are furrowed as he looks back forth between your eyes, trying to conjure up his own explanation of why you’re crying in his arms at 2:28 AM.

“Let’s sit down,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from just waking up. He leads you to his bed, wrapping a blanket around you to keep you warm. He interlocks hands with you, keeping them warm. “What did he say to you?”

“Same old shit,” you sigh. “Accusing me, blaming me, shit-talking me, making rumors up about me.”

Xavier sighs heavily. You see him roll his eyes out from the corner of your eye.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks. “I mean, yeah. I’m crying,” you chuckle sourly.

“Did he touch you?” he clarifies. “No,” you shake your head. “You know he’s not like that.”

“He’s still an asshole,” he mutters. “Definitely,” you nod. “First he tells his buddies that I’m great in bed, then he accuses me of cheating, again. I mean, if he’s going to accuse me of something, he could at least change it up. Like I killed someone, or something,” you scoff.

Xavier chuckles a little. You glance at him and half smile.

“He shouldn’t be going around telling anybody about your business,” he states.

“I know, and I’ve told him. And he always promises he’ll shut up, but the next day I’m the talk of the school again!” you exclaim, frustrated.

Xavier thinks back to what he’s heard his peers say about you behind your back. Over-sexualizing you to the point where it makes him sick to his stomach. He would be lying if he said he had never thought about you sexually, but only briefly. Mostly in passing when he notices the nice dress you might be wearing, or if his mind wanders too far when he’s about to go to sleep. But the comments he hears are vile and disgusting. And especially since they are from your boyfriend who is supposed to be respecting your boundaries.

“I hope you know that when I hear those comments, I try to shut them down,” Xavier says.

Your smile now is bigger than the one before. “Really?”

“Yep,” he nods proudly. “I almost punched a guy once,” he admits.

“I appreciate it,” you pat his hand. “But you don’t need to be playing hero for me. This is my issue. My problem. My relationship.”

“Just because it’s your relationship doesn’t mean you can’t have help,” Xavier states.

You nod slowly and huff, your shoulder sagging. “But this is my own mess. I’m so stupid, Xavi.”

Xavier furrows his brows, squeezing your hand for support. “You’re not stupid.”

“Yes, I am. I mean, we fight and don’t talk to each other for a day. Then he says nice things to me and kisses me and… and I’m reminded of the guy that I fell I love with,” you mumble.

Your words are like a punch to the gut for Xavier. His hand that’s not holding yours balls into a fist, his knuckles becoming white. He wants to tell you to leave him. That this vicious cycle is toxic, but it’s nothing you don’t know already. Your boyfriend just has you under his ridiculous spell.

Maybe he could tell you. If you’ll allow him.

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, okay?” Xavier asks.

You nod and sit silently, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“Maybe he was never they guy you fell in love with. Have you ever thought that this guy who constantly is hurting you is the real him?”

This makes your heart drop. You feel sick to your stomach. You feel ridiculous now. Of course you have thought about that. This is what Wednesday told you after your second fight with him. But you stay with him because, well, you’re naive enough to fall for his apologies and sweet talk.

You’re so worthless, you think. So pathetic. Staying with a guy who is a piece of shit, and treats you like a bigger one. You can’t help but cry again.

Xavier’s eyes widens in panic. He regrets what he said. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. You came to him looking for comfort, not advice. Not the truth. And now he’s made you do the one thing he swore he would never make you do: cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, getting up and spinning in circles to try and find tissues.

“Xavier,” you call out, voice breaking. He ignores you, still trying to find those tissues and thinking of ways to make you feel better.

“Xavier,” you say louder. You groan as he still doesn’t face you. “Xavier!” you shout.

He spins around, box of tissues in his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re right. I know it, and you definitely do. It just.. sucks to hear,” you laugh breathily.

He nods, gulping hard. He sits back down next to you, holding out the tissues for you. You take them thankfully, blowing your nose and dabbing your eyes. You stay silent for a couple of minutes.

Xavier waits patiently for you to collect your thoughts, admiring you in the meantime. Your eyes are glassy from the tears, but you still have a spark in your eye that he loves to see. Your shirt, that’s ironically your boyfriend’s, hangs off of your shoulder slightly. Your leg bounces up and down as you twiddle with the hem of the shirt. In the dim light of his room, Xavier can see the dark circles under your eyes from the nights that he’s sure are full of screaming and crying instead of sleeping peacefully.

God, what he would to kiss you right now.

“I’ll end it with him tomorrow,” you decide.

Xavier’s eyes light up. He tries to contain the joy in his face, but fails embarrassingly. He grabs your hand that’s on your bed, squeezing it.

“I-I’m happy to hear that,” he stammers. “I know,” you chuckle. “You hate him.”

“Well, I can’t exactly like the guy that makes you feel like shit,” he snorts.

“Thank you for helping me,” you smile.

You hug him tightly, closing your eyes and burying your face into his shoulder. He quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. He kisses your forehead as you pull away. You smile softly, your breath becoming caught in your throat. You notice his eyes flutter down to your lips, eyeing them for a few moments. His hazel eyes meet yours. Even in the low light, you can see the golden brown flecks around his pupils.

His hand cups your cheek again, bringing your face closer. Your heart pounds in your chest. You can hear it in your ears. Your eyes frantically look over him, studying his body language. His other hand rests on your mid-thigh, warmth from his palm spreading to just below your waist.

“Xavier, what’re you doing?” you whisper.

“I…” he fails to get out the words. He’s so nervous, he can barely speak. He’s been waiting for this moment for a year now, as pathetic as it sounds.

“I thought you liked Wednesday,” you wonder.

Xavier’s brows raise and he pulls back. “Where did to get that idea?”

“You’re always following her around like a lost puppy. You even were excited about going to the Rave’N with her,” you explain.

“I was following her around because she found about my club, remember? And I wanted to get to know her more, but as friend. I don’t like her like that. Not like I like you,” he says. Saying that is like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders. Even if you don’t feel the same, which he is ready to accept, at least he is not carrying this huge secret with him. Maybe you two can still continue to be friends, too. He’d be willing to suck it up for you.

Your heart jumps with excitement. You never thought about Xavier liking you. Well, there was a tiny chance when you started dating your boyfriend. Xavier would hang around more, blatantly insult your boyfriend, try to get Ajax to stone him even. He stopped after a week or so once he realized you were serious about the guy. Not so say you weren’t, but you did miss Xavier’s efforts to get your attention.

But now you’re completely done with your boyfriend. You realize you’ve been for a while now. You’ve just been hanging on to whatever you thought you could still make work. It’s clear to you now that nothing could fix you, too, except for breaking up. That solution sounds very good. And to be frank, kissing Xavier sounds even better.

“Did I say too much?” Xavier asks, his voice a tiny bit above a whisper.

“No,” you shake your head, beginning to smile from ear to ear. “You’ve said just enough.” you bridge the gap between you two. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers sifting through his tousled hair. You bring your body up close to his, lightly pressing your chest against his.

He’s shocked and you can tell. He doesn’t reciprocate until you pull away. He brings you back, his arms holding you even closer. You sit up on your knees, taking a shallow breath as you move him to the middle of his bed. He crawls backwards until his back hits the backboard. You straddle his hips, feeling his boner up against your thigh.

Your hands slips down to his shirt, lifting it up slowly. He raises his arms, your kiss breaking for a few seconds before your lips meet again. Your teeth clash with each other, tongues tasting each other. The kiss is sloppy now, needy and fervent, but passionate.

You run your hands down his chest, his hot skin burning the palms of your hands. His hands snake under your boyfriend’s shirt, feeling your bare back. You place your hands at the bottom of your shirt, taking it off.

Xavier’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. Your tits sit so pretty, your nipples hard as a rock as the cold air nips them. He becomes impossibly harder, feeling the pre-cum soak the waistband of his underwear.

He doesn’t waste any time staring. He dives down and kisses your neck, sucking harshly on your smooth skin. He places sweet kisses along your shoulders, licking a trial down the valley between your breasts. He attaches his mouth to your nipple, raising his hand to massage your other boob.

“Enjoying yourself?” you snicker, your head tipping back in pleasure.

He looks up at you from your body, his lips sucking your boob. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire now. He smirks as he feels your body temperature rise. You smile shyly in reply. Without warning, he grabs your hips, lifting you up and flipping you two over. Your head hits the pillows, back sinking down into the mattress. You look up and see Xavier settling between your thighs. His hair cascades down his face, creating shadows over his cheeks.

Your run your hands through his hair, tucking the strands behind his ears. He smiles down at you, those smile lines you always loved so much creating ripples in his skin. His hands massage your sides, allowing you to relax even further into the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. I don’t understand how someone could treat you so poorly. You deserve so much more,” he beams, gazing into your eyes.

You lean up to his ear, nibbling on the skin just below it. A thrill runs up his spine, his eyes fluttering close. “Show me, then,” you whisper.

His head is spinning and heart pounding. He nods excitedly, kissing down your stomach, leaving no skin untouched. You let out a breathy moan in need. You want him so bad it hurts. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to obtain the friction you’re craving. He notices how much you’re moving in bed, taking one hand to trail down to your pants. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pants. You nod quickly, your own hands shooting down to your pants and practically ripping them off.

You kick off your pants onto the floor, leaving you almost naked. There’s a jolt of excitement that runs through his veins. His hands feels over your black panties, feeling a little wet spot right in the middle. His cock twitches in his pants as he thinks about how wet you must be, and all because of him.

Xavier picks the pace back up, trailing his lips down your stomach. You feel giddy as his lips get closer to your pussy. You feel the heartbeat between your legs, waiting painfully in anticipation for him to touch you.

He places a kiss over your underwear. You’re so pathetic you moan loudly. You buck your hips up, his nose bumping against your mound. He smiles against the fabric, bringing his head down lower to your thighs. He softly sucks your inner thighs, his hands creeping under your panties. His fingers part your pussy lips, slipping inside to feel the warm, slick center. He swallowed hard, throat becoming dry. You’re seeping juices out from your underwear and soaking his bedsheets.

You’re a little embarrassed. He hasn’t done much but kiss and touch you, and you’re already a mess. Despite your boyfriend bragging about you, you two barely ever had sex. And if you did, it wasn’t very good. Tonight was a big relief for you, especially since Xavier is doing so well, too. Your standards are so low, but you know that Xavier will raise them.

He slips two fingers inside, moving them in and out slowly. Your pussy makes a gushing noise, making him smirk up at you. He peers up at you from under his long lashes. You face feels hot as you see his cocky grin.

“You must really be desperate, huh?” he asks. His fingers go in deeper, moving up and down inside of you. He moves his body to tower over you, no wavering in his hand movements. His head hangs down next to your ear. His hair tickles your cheek. Your laugh and moan at the same time, his fingers fucking you feeling so good.

“Let me guess, he doesn’t pleasure you this well, huh?” he whispers.

“Mm-hm,” you shake your head. His other hand is on your thigh. He moves it down to your underwear, slipping under the top and finding your clit with ease. One of your hands flies up to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Xavier,” you say breathily. “Shit. Ah… ah, Xavier,” you moan. “Need more,” you whine.

You bring your other hand down between you two, tugging on the drawstring of his pants. Xavier pulls away, getting off the bed and taking off his underwear and pants.

You knew him being 6’2” would give him some length. His cock is an angry red, pre-cum leaking down and coating the sides. Your mind runs wild with how he’ll feel inside of you.

You take off your underwear, leaving both of you naked. He climbs back into the bed, sitting between your thighs. You place your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers entangling themselves in his hair. You bring his head down to yours, kissing him slowly. His heart flutters, ears turning pink as he becomes flustered. Your hand snakes down between you two, wrapping around his dick and giving him a few pumps. The pre-cum runs down your hand and drips onto your thighs.

“Wait,” he pulls away. “Do you not want to do this?” you ask, ready to get out of bed and put your panties back on.

“No, I do. Trust me, I… I really want to. But this is my first time,” he confesses.

You smile brightly, gently taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “It’ll be mine, too.”

He furrows his brows. “I-I thought —?”

“Yeah, I never allowed him to go that far,” you chuckle. “I was waiting for someone special,” you grin, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.

Pride fills his chest. He can’t wipe the smile off of his face. His cheeks already hurt from smiling so hard. He squeezes your hand, diving down to kiss you. You both are smiling, unable to properly kiss each other. He rests his forehead onto yours, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts or anything, okay?” he asks.

You nod, spreading your legs. You try to relax as much as you can, but you’re too excited. You’ve always liked Xavier. You’ve always loved him. There’s no doubt in your mind he’s the right person for you, the right person to do this with.

He parts your pussy with his tip, slowly sliding in. Your nails dig into his hand and bicep. You bite your lip harshly, almost drawling blood.

“You okay?” he asks. “Mmhm,” you nod. You take a big deep breath in and out as he continues. “Stop, stop. I-I don’t think I can have you go any further.”

He nods in understanding, kissing your cheek sweetly. “Feels so good to me, anyways. No matter how much of me is inside.”

You giggle at his kind words, capturing his lips into a kiss once more. He slips out of you and slowly enters you, the small amount of friction making him moan in your mouth. One of his hands rests behind your head while the other goes down between you two, finding your clit. You let out a whiny moan, grabbing onto his skin.

He picks up the pace each second and you get more acquainted with his size.

“More,” you demand. He doesn’t question it, slipping another inch into you.

Your toes curl at the end of the bed. You plant your feet into the mattress, bucking your hips up to meet his. You both groan loudly, Xavier’s eyes rolling back while your head tilts back into the pillows, breaking the kiss.

“You feel so good, fuck,” he mumbles. He opens his eyes, looking down and watching as his dick exits and enters you. His pre-cum mixes with your juices, making a sloshing sound.

“Mm, Xavier. Right here,” you gasp. You buck your hips back up, his dick hitting your g-spot with just enough pressure. “Shit. Ju-just like that. Yeah, yeah. Ah, ah! Xavier!” you shout.

His thumb that’s on your clit circles it faster, his hips snapping with yours. Your muscles clench around him, and he’s almost done for. He doesn’t want to come until you do, though. He’s determined.

Your fingers scrap down his back, your body arching. Your chest meets his, the sweat from both your bodies mixing. Xavier presses his lips to yours in a messy, wet, hot kiss. His hot breath fans over the side of your mouth, his teeth clashing with yours.

“Xavi, I’m close,” you moan, eyes screwing shut. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. D-Don’t change anything. Ah, fuck.”

He keeps the exact same pressure and pace, looking down at your face. You look so beautiful when about to come. Your jaw dropped with sweat lining your neck. Your eyes are rolled back, head digging into the pillows.

“Xavier, I’m gonna, I’m gonna come! I-I’m gonna —!”

You muscles tense up and you feel the pressure lifting off of your tummy.

“Oh, fuck, Y/n,” he groans, gripping the pillow next to your head. He pulls out quickly, his whole body shaking as he comes. He manages to turn his body to the side, getting a little bit of cum on your thigh.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, quickly getting a tissue and wiping your thigh.

“No worries,” you smile. “Are you, uh, on birth control?” Xavier asks, still a little breathless.

“Yes,” you nod. “If I wasn’t, I would’ve asked for a condom.”

He smiles and nods, “right.” he puts his underwear and pants back on. He grabs your clothes, setting them on the bed next to you. “Would you like some water? Or a snack?”

“I would love some water, thank you.” you nod. You take your clothes and head to the bathroom. Xavier jogs over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks. “Yes. I feel a little sore, but I’ll be okay,” you answer.

“Okay,” he grins. He leans down and pecks your cheek and forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh happily and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I love you.“

He kisses the side of your head before pulling away. “What if your boyfriend finds out?”

“He’ll be my ex by then,” you shrug. “And I’ll be able to make up rumors about him. Like how he’s so bad and that’s why I went to you,” you wink.

Xavier smirks, “he’ll be pissed.”

“Mm, good,” you hum. You lean up and kiss him. “He deserves it.”

————

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#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe x reader fluff #xavier thorpe x reader angst #wednesday #wednesday show #sara.nsfw

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cookie-crumblr · 7 months

Text

The smell of smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 1~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, reader in a skirt, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch, slut, ), BULLYING, non con touching-shoving stuff like that, non con exhibitionism, burning, hand gag, non con oral on m!, severe violence against reader, non con foreign object use in vagina, SA by ml!, sadism

“Ooof!” the wind is all knocked from your lungs as you slam yourself into something solid right outside your dorm room door.

“Want sum bitch!?” A tall, strawberry blonde guy shouts as he shoves you away from him.

Your poor body slams into a wall, you squint at the pain and at the same time a lewd warmth starts to seep between your legs.

A fist punches the wall above your head causing your eyes to shoot open.

“hah, this bitch thinks she’s cute or sumthin’” His other hand roughly pulls your skirt up by the hem, showing your little-white-ribbon-having panties to all his friends.

They laugh and leer at you.

“Oh, what’s this,” His fingers roughly press under your hood, “She’s fucking wet, what a slut. Trynna look all innocent an shit” he spits.

In one blink he’s roughly assaulting you, the next he’s leaving with his friends laughing about you on the way.

You fix your clothes as you stare after them and try to calm your racing heart.

At least you won’t see him again…

You make it to your class only a minute late, and find a seat open in the back.

While you doodle puppies in the margins instead of taking notes, that same guy slams down a book on the table next to you.

You glance up to his chilling smile, “Listen bitch, I know you want this,” He grabs his crotch, “but I’m not fuckin’ interested, gotit? so move.”

“Th-there aren’t a-any seats op-” you peep before being cut off-

“Not my problem.” He sits and leans back, his ankle crossing his knee.

From a pocket somewhere he pulls a pack of cigarettes, and sparks one, his curious and agitated eyes not leaving yours.

The professor walks in at the same moment “Ezra, put it out.” he says without even turning to look.

In that moment his big hand covers your entire mouth forcefully, his lips come close to your ear, “Don’t scream, or else,”

As you grunt out in confusion and reach up to try and pry off his hand, you feel the searing hot pain of him putting out his cig on your thigh.

The pain is white hot, searing and blinding.

Your scream is muffled by his hand, and tears prick at your eyes.

Nobody even turns to look.

You claw at his hand.

His breath tickles your neck, “I said~ Don’t. Fucking. Scream.”

Goosebumps prickle all over your flesh.

“Now yer gonna get it, bitch” he nips at your ear while his finger trails your jaw. A shiver ripples through you.

For just a second too long he gazes into your eyes, your heart beats thunder in your ears.

You’re a frozen deer staring into the headlights of your doom.

Ezra moves a hand to your throat and tightly squeezes. You strain to breathe and fail to notice him opening his pants.

he shoves your face down into his lap.

For a second you can breathe and you gasp, trying to take in any air at all, and instead getting a throat full of dick.

“Mmmf!!!!!” Your throat contracts painfully.

He pushes his hips up and your head down further so that your nose presses against his thigh.

You can’t breathe at all!

He knows it and rotates his hips, grinding into your face harder before he pulls you off of him enough to get some air finally.

That doesn’t last long before you’re shoved back down.

It feels as though he doesn’t even want to come. He’s literally just holding you there to torture you.

You get only the air he allows you.

Tears roll helplessly down your face, mixing with snot and saliva alike.

This lasts the entire class period. Him keeping your puffy lips pressed against his body, and only giving you air when you’re just about to black out.

It didn’t take long for you to just give up the fight entirely.

He finally lifts you off, his still rock hard dick bobs as you leave it, before standing straight back up.

He lets you drop onto your desk.

You let out a shaking groan, while you catch your breath.

“Not gonna give anything t’a bitch like you,” he stands to leave and spits onto your back.

You run from the room, to the relative safety of the laboratories.

In the reflection you inspect your bloodshot eyes, and the red spots on your face from the oxygen deprivation.

Remarkably, you make your next class on time.

Though, your heart pounds, terrified of the possibility that he could just walk through these doors too.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

The rest off the day passes without incident but the memory stains you. It keeps flashing through your head. you keep sighing deeply, the air you’re getting not feeling like enough.

You’re zoned out while you walk to your dorm room, not even feeling happy to finally be so close to your bed, so close to salvation…

Everything good left in the world is torn from your reality completely, and utterly when your book bound arms slowly bump into the back of someone once again.

You know who it is before you even focus your eyes…

Your body shakes violently as you begin to sob again.

“You just don’ fuckin’ learn, do you, bitch?”

“What’s this chick’s problem?”

“Yeah, she obsessed with you or sumthin’?”

“Dunno. wha’ d’ya say? Ya obsessed with me, slut?” his head tilts as he smirks.

You continue to cry and sob louder and louder.

“The fuck? We’re talkin’ t’ya, bitch,” his smirk morphs into a snarl.

“I-I-I’m s-sorryyyyyy” you stumble over your words as you choke over your tears.

“Did I ask fur a fuckin’ apology?” He grips your hair and slams your head into a cement brick wall.

“Ahh haaaaa!!! Noo!! P-leaseeee!! Nno!” You plead desperately while you try and weakly push your body away from the wall, blood pours from your forehead into your eyes. The blood burns and makes you squint, your vision blurred and crimson.

He pulls you up to his slightly tilted face by your scalp, “Choose your next words carefully, bitch” his breath tickles your lips.

“S-s—sorr-yyyy” you don’t know what you did to deserve this. You don’t know what he wants from you. and you honestly don’t know what is going to happen now.

“This your room?” he uses your jaw to spin your head painfully around, “Get her fucking keys.”

His friends surround you both as hands grope you and fondle areas that definitely don’t have pockets until the jingle of metals can be heard.

You’re still sobbing and his hand is still grasping a fist full of your locks.

The one with the keys unlocks the door, and you all flood into the room, Ezra forcing you forward.

Your roommate wakes up from her nap in shock, “Wh-what’s going on!?”

“Get ‘er out.” He commands his friends, as he throws you onto your bed. “Somebody get this bitch’s clothes off. Now”

“Y/N!!!! Y/N, Oh my gods—Stop!!!!” Your roommate screams as the force the door into her face.

His eyes scan the room as he lights up another cigarette. He finds the first thing he can shove into your vagina, and grabs it.

You’ve been kicking and pleading for them to stop as they stripped you. “hold her down.” he says, and they do.

Whether you’re lucky or unlucky is up to you, as he holds up a wooden handled broom from the corner before snapping it in half.

“N-no!”

He throws the half with the sweeper away and comes at you with the other.

“Which end bitch?” he holds the thing up for you to see.

“ROUND!” Your brain at least works when it desperately needed to.

“Glad you’re finally fucking getting it,” The broom handle still struggles to go in despite how wet you are.

He shoves past where your body wants it to stop.

He shoves it in and out of you while his friends hold your limbs spread apart.

He pinches and slaps your clit, bruising your mound.

Your body convulses as you cum, Ezra shoves it in as hard as he can before backing up and pulling out his phone.

His friends continue to hold you as he snaps a few pictures of your body, with your pussy exposed, and a broken handle sticking out of you.

You twitch in their final grasps, before Ezra flicks his still lit cigarette at you, and they let go.

He practically rips the door off the hinges and he ducks to leave.

Your roommate rushes in after they’re gone and calls an ambulance for you.

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thoughtssvt · 6 months

Text

everything's alright now

jujutsu daycare pt. 1

just yuji and megumi taking care of nobara when she falls and scrapes her knee at daycare

“It’s okay to cry, you know?” Megumi mumbled as he watched Nobara’s lip wobble, her gaze stuck to the floor just enough for her to ignore the scrape on her knee.

She sniffled hard, tiny shoulders scrunching up to her ears before speaking. “Why would I cry? It doesn’t hurt,” she grumbled, taking a chubby fist up to her face to wipe at her snot.

“KU-GI-SA-KIIII! FU-SHI-GU-ROOO!” Yuji's voice boomed louder as he ran closer, arm raised to the sky. He came to a halting stop, making sure not to tumble over his friends as he sprinted towards them. “I got… the bandaid… from Gojo-sensei…” He panted.

As soon as he caught his breath he knelt down in front of Nobara, handing each piece of garbage to Megumi before sticking the bandage on his friend. His tongue peeked out through his lips, eyebrows knitting tightly as he tried to keep the plaster from sticking to his fingers.

“There!” He pulled back with gleaming eyes when the bandage was thoroughly tacked to Nobara’s knee, though a bit haphazardly. “All better! At least that’s what Nanamin tells me, but I know it still stings a little.” Yuji smiled as he stood upright, earning a small nod from Kugisaki.

A sad type of silence hung over them, the children stuck in place, Megumi eyeing the tear in Nobara’s skirt and stringy rips in her tights. “Ieri-san has our spare clothes in her office, let’s go.” He said stoically, his concern only showing through his actions. Despite Nobara’s complaints they threw her arms over each of their shoulders, supporting her on their way to Ieri’s office, their acknowledgement of her limp harbored quietly in their heads in consideration of her personality.

“Don’t forget to tell your parents to pack a new set of spare clothes next week, okay?” Ieri reminded as she squatted down to Kugisaki’s height, ruffling the girl’s hair before pulling three lollipops out of her white coat. She passed the candy out to the children, a reward for Kugisaki’s bravery and the boys’ help. Their eyes shone at the sweet treat, their sadness dissipating.

“Let’s rub it in Gojo-sensei’s face that we got candy,” Nobara grinned mischievously, scurrying with her best friends in tow, giggling about how jealous their teacher would be and how they had no plans of sharing with him.

Bonus:

“You’re an adult, Gojo. Go buy one for yourself,” Shoko sighed as she packed up for the day.

“Why should I?! You have one in our pocket, I can see it!” Gojo whined, “I was brave today, too! Look, I got a papercut during art time!”

Jujutsu Daycare masterlist

The Small Spaces Between Infinity masterlist

a dad gojo and kid megumi au

Innocence Protection Program masterlist

a papamin and kid yuuji au

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archangeldyke-all · 5 months

Text

hello hello!!! here's the first 2 chapters of my next big fic as a little teaser for what's to come! the entire fic will be posted on the 24th on ao3, but for now-- enjoy this!

men and minors dni

You’re fucking starving. You haven’t eaten in a day and a half. It’s not the longest you’ve gone without food, but that doesn’t make the growling in your stomach any more comfortable. You’ve been collecting glass bottles all day, slowly filling up the potato sack hanging over your shoulder. Each bottle is worth a copper piece at the recycling plant-- but a full sack is worth ten gold. With that kind of money you could rent a room for the night, sleep in a fucking bed for once.

You sigh as you haul yourself out of the dumpster you were scouring, hitching your half-full potato sack further up on your shoulder. Your stomach growls loudly as you amble your way out of the dingy alleyway and onto the main road. It’s a shockingly pleasant day in the Undercity, a warm breeze tickling your face as you navigate the busy streets.

People give you a wide berth nowadays-- at least wider than it used to be. You’re not an unusual site in Zaun, though it is strange for a street dweller like yourself to have clear eyes. You haven’t given into the shimmer craze… at least not yet. You aren’t sure if your resolve will hold come winter. Shimmer keeps the body warm. Warm and dazed.

You shake your head to clear the thoughts of the neon substance, determined to ignore its existence until absolutely necessary. You’ve seen too many people get hooked on it. You’ve seen too many people die from it. You won’t let yourself become one of them, things aren’t that bad… yet.

You turn down an alleyway, trudging toward an overflowing dumpster. Shrouded in shadows, you can barely make out the figure of an old woman slumped against the wall beside the dumpster. She mumbles incoherently at you, her hand littered with purple blisters and scars.

“Evening ma’am,” you say as you launch yourself over the lip of the dumpster. She mumbles back. “I won’t bother you for long. Just looking for glass. You seen any? You know they give you ten gold for a full sack?” You ask as you slice through garbage bags with your pocket knife. The woman slumps to sleep with a grunt. You sigh. “I guess it’s not that interesting is it?” You whisper to yourself as you inspect the contents of the garbage bags. Nothing. Shit. Your stomach growls and you eye a loaf of moldy bread in the corner of the dumpster.

You really shouldn’t. Last time you ate moldy food you were vomiting and shitting yourself for three days, which is unpleasant to begin with, but even more so when you don’t have access to a bathroom. But you’re fucking starving.

Your mouth salivates as you pick up the loaf, inspecting it closely. The mold’s grown its own fuzz, little green hairs waving at you as the wind blows. You really shouldn’t.

You tear the loaf in half. The inside isn’t moldy… yet. Maybe you could pick out the good stuff. You start to rip through the loaf, looking for a salvageable bite. The woman outside the dumpster lets out a snore. Your stomach lets out another growl. You sigh, bringing the bread to your mouth.

“Here goes nothing.” You whisper.

“Shit!” A high pitched voice rings out. You jump, the bread flying out of your hands as you whip around in the dumpster. Crouching down near the mouth of the alleyway is a little kid with a choppy haircut. She smacks her head repeatedly. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She mutters. You climb out of the dumpster, slowly approaching the kid.

“Uh.” You say. The girl’s eyes snap up to yours, and she cowers against the wall. “You okay?” You ask. Her eyes are sparkling with tears, snot trailing out of her nose.

“I fucked up.” She whispers to you. You blink. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a kid this small curse like that.

“Watch your language?” You say uncertainty. She blinks at you, a tear slowly falling down her cheek. “C’mon it can’t be that bad.” You say. “What’d you do, shoplift?” You ask. You remember being a kid her age and getting chased out of convenience stores with your friends, pockets stuffed with candy, laughing all the way home. The little girl blinks again. “It’s cool, you can just give the shit back. Play up the misguided kid act, give ‘em puppy eyes, they’ll let you off the hook.” You say. She sniffs up at you.

“I didn’t shoplift. I--”

Across the street, a corner store bursts into flames. You pull the kid in your arms as the shockwave from the explosion knocks you both on your asses. You groan, pulling away from the girl as alarms begin to blare and people begin to panic.

“I did that.” She finishes. You chuckle as you stand up and dust yourself off.

“Come on, where’re your parents? They’re probably worried about you now.” You offer the kid a hand, and she takes it, shakily standing.

“You don’t believe me?” She asks, wiping her snotty face with the back of her hand.

“That you didn’t steal? Nah, I believe you. You just gotta make sure the owner believes you.” You say. “Shit, was that Elijah’s?” You ask, peeking around the wall of the alley to watch as patrons come running out of the front door, smoke billowing out after them. The front window’s been blown out, flames growing inside the tavern. “Always hated that fucker. Serves him right. Wonder who he pissed off this time.” You mumble.

“Me.” The girl says. You chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Well, he wouldn’t give me any fizzy juice and I know he had some. Then he called me a rat and told me to scram. So I snuck in and rigged the joint to blow. Only problem is… I set the timer on the bomb to a minute instead of an hour.” She says with a shrug, scratching her blue hair. You blink. “Plus, the old man I’m living with was talking about Elijah a few weeks ago. Said he was competition or something. So yaknow. Two birds, one bomb.” She rambles. You blink again. Across the street, a man screams as his shirt catches on fire. People swarm him, trying to pat out the flames. You blink for a third time.

“How old are you?” You choke out, eyes snapping back to the kid in front of you.

“Nine and three quarters! Almost double digits.” She says with a proud smile.

“Uhm.” You say, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. God, you haven’t talked to a kid in years. “Aren’t you a little young to be… blowing shit up?” You ask. The girl huffs a put upon sigh.

“That’s what everyone says.”

“Hey!” An angry voice rings out. Both of your heads snap to the street where Elijah stands, silhouetted by the flames consuming his bar.

“Shit.” The kid whispers. You gulp.

“Hey you! Grab that fuckin’ kid!” Elijah says, pointing at you. You freeze. The kid beside you freezes as well. “I’m gonna kill you, you little shit!” He says as he tears across the street toward the two of you. Fuck.

“Fuck!” The girl shrieks, tugging on your hand, trying to get you to run. You blink. Elijah is suddenly towering over you, nostrils flared, brow dirtied with soot. The kid cowers behind you.

“I recognize you, you filthy bitch. You’re the one always crawling through my dumpsters. Step aside and I won’t kill you too.” He growls.

“Get fucked.” You say. You try not to laugh at the way his face jumps in surprise. “What, you think a little kid blew up your place?” You ask, pushing the girl behind you. “She can’t even fuckin’ read!”

“Yes I can.” The girl mumbles under her breath.

“She’s been terrorizing my establishment for months!”

“She’s nine and a half!” You shout, puffing out your chest and standing up straight.

“Nine and three quarters.” She huffs behind you. You elbow her.

“You’re a grown man Elijah, and you wanna beat up a little girl? Go fuck yourself.” You say. Behind your back, you start shooing the kid away with your hand. She tugs on yours but you shake her off, pushing her further down the alley. Elijah’s staring you down, cracking his knuckles and settling into a fighting stance. You gulp. “Matter of fact, what makes you so sure it was her? Half of Zaun hates your guts. It coulda been anyone!” You hear the little footsteps of the kid as she scurries away, and luckily Elijah’s too focused on you to notice. “Coulda been me.” Elijah raises an eyebrow.

“You?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, jackass. You really pissed me off when you threw water on me last week. I’m not a fuckin’ animal, you know.” He laughs at this. “Matter of fact, it was me!” You say. You must be hysterical from the starvation, because you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut. “That’s right asshole, bet you didn’t think I knew anything about explosives, did ya?” You taunt.

“That’s enough outta you. Move.” He says, shoving you. You don’t budge.

“No.” You say. He growls.

“One more warning, whore.”

“Get. Fucked.”

The next thing you know, you’re flat on your back in the alleyway, murky water slowly seeping in your clothes as Elijah pummels into you. You take half a dozen punches to your face, your nose crunching, one of your teeth cracking. Then he moves onto stomping your ribs, hard enough for you to lose your breath, your ribs cracking under his boot. You fade in and out of consciousness a few times, but before he can well and truly kill you, he stops.

“Where the fuck did she go?!” He spits at you. You blink up at him, dazed. “Fuck.” He lands one more solid kick into your ribs before he tears down the alleyway in pursuit of the kid.

You turn on your side, trying to catch your breath, watching your blood slowly trickle into the puddle below you. You hope the girl got away. Your eyes catch on the woman sleeping beside the dumpster. She’s either dead, or she slept through the explosion and fight. You hope she’s just sleeping. Somewhere in the distance, the fire brigade arrives. The pain in your body flares dramatically and you groan, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. You curl in on yourself as the pain wracks through your body, and you cry yourself to sleep.

“Over here!”

You blink awake. For a fleeting moment, the only thing you feel is the heaviness of your eyelids and the cool wet concrete beneath you. Your eyes focus on the woman by the dumpster, in the same position she was before you passed out, her skin pale and ghostly. You suck a breath in. She’s dead. You sigh an exhale, and suddenly, the pain in your body comes rushing in. You feel like you’ve been run over by a stampede.

“Fuck!” You moan, curling in on yourself. You hitch your breath and cry out in pain at the stabbing sensation that flares up in your sides. There’s a pounding in your head, your vision goes blurry and you close your eyes, crying.

Footsteps approach you. You blink your eyes open, but your vision fuzzes before you can make out more than a pair of boots in front of you. Fuck. You’re gonna throw up.

“Move.” You warn. It’s the only thing you manage to spit out before you’re spewing bile. The person connected to the boots groans.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” A woman’s voice growls out above you.

“Told you to move.” You groan. More footsteps. You try opening your eyes again. Several pairs of feet surround you now. Shit. “I don’t have any money.” You croak.

“You’re certain this is her?” A man’s voice asks.

“I’m nobody.” You insist, trying to sit up. The world spins beneath you and you collapse back on the pavement. You whimper. A hand grabs your shoulder. You flinch. “I said I don’t have any money!” You cry out.

“Shit, calm down.” The woman’s voice speaks again.

“Lemme see her face.” A squeaky voice sounds up. Your eyes snap open in shock. You know that voice. A boot covered in your vomit nudges you, and you flop on your back. Five people peer down at you. “It’s her!” The girl who blew up Elijah’s exclaims.

“What the fuck?” You say. Above you, a pale person with dramatic slanted bangs chuckles.

“That’s what I’m saying.” They mutter. The cloaked woman and tattooed wall of a muscular man beside them laugh.

“That’s enough.” The slender man looming over you snaps. They quiet immediately. He studies you intently. Half of his face is scarred, and his prosthetic black and orange eye bores into you. Beside him, the little girl is holding his hand. “Jinx here tells me you took a beating for her. Is that true?” He asks. Your eyes flick to the little girl. She nods at you, grinning.

“Um. Yes?” You say. It’s silent for a moment as the skinny man eyes you, then he snaps his fingers.

“Sevika.” He says, his eyes flickering over to the woman. “Get her.” He commands, turning on his heel, dragging the girl along with him. You blink. The giant tattooed man laughs and pats the woman’s shoulder as she scowls down at you. He and the pale person turn to follow behind the little girl and the skinny scarred man. The only person remaining in your visual field is the woman. She rolls her eyes.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted into her arms. You groan in pain as the woman jostles you. “Quit squirming.” She grunts as she begins walking behind her entourage. You gasp, her stomping footsteps sending flashes of pain throughout your abdomen.

“Where-- ow fuck!-- where are y-you taking me?” You ask. The woman glances down at you, but doesn’t say anything. She jostles you in her arms. You cry out, burying your face in her shoulder to muffle your cries.

Somewhere ahead of you, the skinny man’s voice rings out, “Be kind to our guest, Sevika.” The woman carrying you huffs.

“Fucking barfed on my boots.” She grumbles under her breath. You can only hear it because you’re tucked under her chin. You groan.

“S-sorry.” You stutter out through the tears. She doesn’t respond.

You don’t try to fight it. What could you do? You just let the little procession march you through the streets. The woman holding you is warm. You fall in and out of sleep against her.

One moment you’re outside and in the next you’re blinking awake on a doctor’s table.

The skinny scarred man is studying you. Beside him is another skinny man, the beginnings of shimmer scars decorating his skin.

“Put her back to sleep.” The one with the black and orange eye commands. You black out.

You wake up again in a bed, groggy and warm. You blink up at the ceiling. When was the last time you were this comfortable? You don’t remember. You fall back asleep trying to recall.

The next time you wake up, it’s to someone poking your face repeatedly. You flinch awake. The little girl from the alley is standing beside your bed. “You’re awake!” She says, excited. You blink again.

“I wonder why.” You grumble, smacking her hand away from your face. She giggles guiltily. “Where are we?” You ask her, trying to sit up in bed. One of her little hands shoots out to push your shoulder.

“Don’t get up.” She says. “‘Parently you broke your ribs.”

“Fuck.” You huff. She giggles again. You relax against the bed. “Am I on drugs?” You ask. You feel… no pain. And floaty in a nice way.

“Shimmer.” The little girl says. “And some other stuff.”

“Shit.” You say. There goes your goal to stay off the stuff. You huff out a defeated laugh, but it quickly turns into a happy little giggle. Shit, you really are high. “Shit!” You say again, laughing. The girl laughs with you.

“You say a lot of bad words.” She says, grinning. You raise a finger up to your lips in a ‘shh’ motion.

“You didn’t hear ‘em from me.” You say, threateningly. She laughs again. You smile. She’s a cute kid. “Did you really blow up that building?” You ask her. She nods proudly. You snort. “How?!” Her eyes get wide, a grin spreading on her lips as she scrambles to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. With flailing hand gestures, the little girl enthusiastically recounts her process, walking you through the various trials and errors she ran into trying to get inside Elijah’s, the type of explosives she used and how she charged them, and how the stupid kitchen timer betrayed her by the loose time switch downshifting from hours to minutes at the last moment.

“...and so then I had to run for cover, and you found me.” She finishes. You giggle.

“Where did you get explosives from?” You ask. She shrugs.

“Silco keeps ‘em locked up downstairs, just had to snag the key and let myself in.”

“Who’s Silco?” You ask.

“That guy I was with when we found you in the alley. He’s like my foster dad or something.” She says, shrugging.

“You live in a house with explosives in the basement?”

“No, silly, I live here.”

“Right…” You say. “And where are we… exactly?” You ask for the second time that night.

“Silco’s.” She says, squinting at you like you’re stupid.

“...Right.” You say, nodding like you understand.

“Wanna see a cool knife trick?” The girl asks, jumping off the bed and reaching in her back pocket. You shrug.

“Sure.” You say.

The door suddenly opens, the skinny scarred man standing on the other side. Silco, you guess.

“Jinx. What did I tell you about knives.” He says tiredly, walking in the room and snatching the knife out of her hands. She pouts and stomps her foot. “Go draw. I need to talk to our guest in private.”

“What? No fair! She’s the coolest person in this stinking place and I’m the one who found her! I should get to play with her all I want!” She demands. You blink, unsure if you should be flattered or worried that the strange kid’s taken a liking to you.

“She’s not a pet Jinx.” The man says, guiding the girl out of the room. “Go finish your mural in the east hall. I want to see what you end up doing with the green.”

The girl grumbles, stomping away. The man sighs and clicks the door shut, turning to face you. Suddenly, you’re nervous. You lift your hand. “Uh. Hi.” You say.

“Hello.” He says. He pulls a chair up to your bedside and sits, crossing one of his legs over the other. He studies you intently. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions, all of which I’ll be happy to answer. But first I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Don’t think I got a choice, do I?” You ask with a chuckle. He smiles.

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

“Shoot.” You say, shrugging. He clears his throat, eyeing your neck. You gulp.

“You wouldn’t happen to be the niece of Ms. Bonnie May, would you?” He asks. You spring up in bed, the pain that suddenly swells in your sides is nothing compared to the chill of fear that shoots down your spine.

“How the fuck do you know that name?” You ask Silco rises, reaching out to steady you and help you lie back down.

“Relax. I was friends with Bonnie.” He says as he eases you back onto the pillows. You blink.

“Work friends?” You ask. He nods, sitting back down. You blink again, understanding slowly dawning upon you. You shake your head and laugh. “What’d she do for you?” You ask. Silco sighs, a reminiscent smile tugging on his lips.

“Smuggling mostly. She really was the best there was, as I’m sure you know. She saved my life several times in that damn basement of hers.” You snort a laugh. “And of course the odd counterfeited document.”

“You weren’t a fan of her home brew then?” You ask with a smile. Silco chuckles.

“Did she really have customers for that shit?” He asks. You giggle.

“Half a dozen regulars.” You say. Silco shivers.

“She’d drink it like water! I was always impressed by that.” He says. You laugh.

“She was a tough old broad.”

“She was.” He says, solemnly. For a moment, it’s silent. You try to swallow back the sudden lump in your throat. “She talked about you all the time.” He says. You scoff.

“How I was eating her out of a house and home?” You guess. Silco smiles.

“That, and the teenage mood swings.” You grin.

“She was always talking shit.”

“She loved you dearly.” He says. The sudden seriousness in his voice catches you off guard. The tears in your eyes quickly begin to well up again.

“How’d you know I was hers?”

“Your scar.” He says, nodding to the side of your neck. You reach up, gently tracing raised skin beneath your ear. Your aunt was a talented woman with a flair for the dramatic-- her products always had a hidden calling card: a cockroach. Whether printed microscopically in the seal of her counterfeit Piltover cash, etched into the bottom of her bottles, or branded into the skin of her patients, your aunt signed all her work with the indestructible bugs. The message was clear. If it was signed with a roach, Bonnie May did it. “I have one of my own, here.” He says pointing to his stomach. “I was disemboweled. She shoved my guts back in and sewed me up.” He says. “It was a miracle I lived.” You laugh.

“You know she only ever lost five people?”

“She was incredible.”

You and Silco are silent for a moment, memories of your aunt flashing though your minds. Finally, you speak. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking… where are we, exactly?” You ask. Silco perks up in his seat.

“Oh, yes! Well, you see, Jinx has recently come into my care.” He begins. You nod. “And while we’ve made great progress in these past two years together, she still has a tendency to sneak away and get herself in trouble.” He scratches the back of his head. “She’s a troubled girl…”

“She’s smart.” You say. He grins with pride.

“She’s a genius. But she doesn’t think things through. I have no doubt in my mind Elijah would’ve killed her if you hadn’t stepped in. I had no idea who you were before we found you, I simply wanted to repay the debt to whoever protected Jinx. But then I saw your neck, and your condition, and well. Your aunt wouldn’t want you on the streets. With all she did for me in her life, and with what you did for Jinx, I thought it best I bring you back here.”

“And… where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“The Last Drop. My headquarters.”

“That bar downtown?” You ask.

“The one and only.”

“What are you… headquartering?” You ask. Silco examines you, then leans forward.

“Your aunt was a strong soldier in the rebellion. I take it you share the same… political sentiments?” He asks. You snort.

“I’m not a bootlickin’ narc, if that’s what you’re asking. Bonnie raised me with proper values.” Silco smiles.

“I figured. I’m the head of a particularly lucrative business operation.” You tick an eyebrow up.

“Drugs or sex?”

“Shimmer.” He says.

“You’re the one who’s been putting that shit on the streets?” You ask. He nods. You grunt. “And what does that have to do with the rebellion?”

“The money I make goes towards the independence of Zaun.” He says. You laugh.

“Yeah? Who died and put you in charge?” You ask. Silco scowls at you. “Shit, okay.” You say, raising your hands. “Sorry.”

“You’ve certainly got your aunt’s mouth.” Silco says. You huff a laugh. That’s true. Bonnie was always getting into trouble for running her mouth.

“So… why did you bring me to the headquarters of the rebellion?” You ask. Silco hums.

“I’m hoping maybe your mouth isn’t the only thing you inherited from Bonnie. You could be of great help to us here. I owe you a debt-- I owe your aunt several. I figured I could start my pay back with an offer.”

“An offer?” You ask.

“You clearly aren’t in the best situation right now.” Silco says bluntly. “I can give you a room. Here. And a paycheck every week.” He says. You snort.

“That’s kind of you, sir, but Bonnie never let me near her work. I’d be useless here.”

“If I asked you to make me a bottle of moonshine the way Bonnie used to, you’d be able to, yes?”

“Well, yes, but you just said you didn’t like--”

“And if I asked you what to do if you’re ever being questioned by enforcers?” He asks, cutting you off.

“Say nothing, request your Undercity-relation representative--”

“You know basic first aid?” He asks. “CPR?”

“Well, yes, but--”

“How about Bonnie’s old mineshaft, with that elevator up top-- you remember where that is? Could you get me there?”

“Yeah, it’s just north of the--” You’re cut off again.

“And Jinx. You’re good with her.”

“I mean… I’ve spoken to her twi--”

“You were on the streets for how long? More than half a year now? And you’ve avoided shimmer this long. You’re resilient.” He says.

“I haven’t had to get through winter yet.”

“You took a beating for a girl you’ve never met.”

“She’s a kid, any decent person would’ve--”

“Your aunt taught you self defense? Basic knife skills?”

“Sure, but everyone down here--”

“You’re hired.” Silco says. You snap your mouth shut. Tears well in your eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” You say.

“Why not?” Silco asks. “You don’t want it?”

“Of course I want it but--”

“Then you’re hired.”

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you

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renn-phrs · 2 years

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[𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺]

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ(s) : Haitani Rindou, Haitani Ran, Imaushi Wakasa

previous | next | aftermath

≣ Haitani Rindou

“Rindou-san, when we grow up, let’s get married.”

That’s what you say or at least was. The incident a few months ago greatly impacts you and your surroundings. Everyone thought you were dead when the doctor informed them that you will be in a coma for a long time. But suddenly on a cold day, your mother saw you sitting on the bed looking at the falling snow from the window which almost make her faint as she quickly hugged you and called your other family member. That’s where your fiance was informed with your consciousness. Running as fast as he can to the hospital, leaving abruptly after the crucial meeting he had with his boss.

The tears formed in his eyes as he rushed to the ER when he gets a glimpse of the memories you shared together before and the thoughts of it will be continued. The sound of his heavy footsteps from the hallway gets closer before stopping infront of the room. His heart-hate dropped when he sees your mother and the rest of your family members crying on their knees from the small window on the door. His hand trembled and his eyes watched in horror as his biggest fear comes to life eating every inch of his sanity he had. Rindou’s trembling hand tried to reach out for the handle before pushing it down to open it. The people in the room looked at him before looking away feeling guilt run down their bodies. Rindou’s eyes scanned across the room as he tried to keep calm from the odd behavior they gave him. He slowly makes his way to your bed before smiling at you,

“Sweetheart?” He speaks, hoping what he was thinking wasn’t real as he reaches out his hand to caress your cheeks. But every inch of his body froze when you suddenly dodge his hand and looked at him as if he was a stranger to you that threatened your presence. A sharp pain followed by unsteady heartbeat tearing his heart as a realization hits him when you say the word he never wanted to hear coming from your lips,

“Who are you?”

≣ Haitani Ran

The weather was bad. It’s been raining for the past two days non-stop in the area. No one in Tokyo would go outside, unless for one man who could be seen squatting down as he put the flower bouquet nicely infront of him,

“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t visited you for a while, got a lot of stuff going on right now.” He smiled before caressing the large polished stone where your name was engraved there. His grip on the stone becomes tighter as he felt a sharp pain and waves of tears start to blur his vision. The glimpse of him and you being the happiest couple passes through his memories.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you need me the most. I don’t know how you must feel handling all the pain for yourself," He bites his lips, his heaving breathing, and the cold weather makes him shivers, “I- I, f-fuck I can’t turn back time can I?” Ran sniffles, whipping his tears and snots with his drenched dress suit, trying to hold back from screaming desperately under the rain. But it’s to no avail, he is just a normal human with no sort of power or ability to endure the feeling of pain and agony for the past years. 'It wasn’t his fault' that’s what people said to him. Yet, he keeps taking all the blame for it.

He promises your father to bring happiness to you. Making you the happiest individual you would ever be. But the story of both of you isn’t like the fairy tale your mother once read you before going to sleep. A tragedy, that’s what people say. Nobody could help him after that day. Even his brother, the only family member left that always be beside him couldn’t do anything to make his dearest brother back to his old self. As they say, when a parakeet loses their partner or mate, they will be in great pain for almost their lives. Like a swan that is loyal to their others, never seeks a new partner, until death comes to take their life away as they will be reunited in the other life where they will live for eternity. Ran will keep on living until he found himself on his death bed seeing you reaching out for him to bring him in your arms once again in the realm of eternity.

≣ Imaushi Wakasa

The sounds of beeping coming from the machine accompanied the silence from one of the rooms as a sound of footstep getting closer each second before stopping infront of the room with ER written on it. The door opened revealing the tall skinny boy who is draping his long white coat full of written stuff on it paired with a black set. His hair was messier than usual, His eyes tired eyes scanned the room before dragging the chair beside you,

“Good evening, (Name)-san.” He smiled knowing there will no answer from his dearest one. His eyes trailed to the person infront of him sleeping peacefully as if there wasn’t any soul left in there, only an empty vessel displayed infront of him every single day he visited you in hoping someday things would be different,

“Me and Benkei got in a fight again. I’m sorry,” He softly speaks as he looked down at the bag filled with your favorite food, “I know you said friends shouldn’t fight each other. But, Benkei did it first.” He said nonchalantly before scoffing as he crossed his arms, replying to the event a few hours ago where he was arguing with his ‘friend’ over some ice cream left over in Sano’s place.

“How was your day? I hope everything is good,” He started to speak, trying to break out from the silence that only the beeping from the machine accompany him, “I met the nurses that are taking care of you. They said you are doing good keeping up with everything.”

He fiddled his finger as his feet keep bouncing due to the anxiety risen he felt each second he tried to stop overthinking. He moved his chair closer to you before taking your hand to caress it,

“I don’t know if you will be ever to respond to me but I promise you that I will be always here beside you, waiting for you to wake up after a long time,” He said kissing your hand as he move forward to kiss your forehead, caressing it before putting his head down the side rail as his grips tighter when the feeling of his throat closing up followed by tears streamed down his face. A sound of soft sobbing fills in the room within the sound of the EKG machine making a sorrowful melody as the night become darker each second, leaving the other lovers in great pain as he waited for his other heart to wake up from what he felt like the eternity.

“Please come back to me, please.”

RETURN — ©Reblogs are highly appreciated.

#[☆ ; tr]#[☆ ; works]#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers headcanon #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #ran haitani #rindou haitani #wakasa imaushi #ran x you #rindou x you #wakasa x you #ran x reader #rindou x reader #wakasa x reader

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thelargefrye · 11 months

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NO CELESTIAL : FEARNOT … one - shot

pairing : hongjoong x summoner!f!reader x yunho

genre : final fantasy x inspired au, childhood friends to lovers, fantasy, hurt / comfort

word count : 10.1k (my biggest fic yet oof)

warnings : final fantasy x canon violence, language, mentions of death, mentions of god-like creatures (sin), (one) emotional breakdown, minor self-inflicted injury / blood, suggestive content (allusion of sex but NO sex in this!)

note : for @cultofdionysusnet meet me under the cherry tree event!

suffer with me tag : @sanjoongie @songmingisthighs (and special tag goes to @anyamaris and @stardragongalaxy)

it was your job as a summoner to try and cleanse the world; however, while you had a mission to complete, hongjoong and yunho weren’t going to let you do it by yourself.

summoners were seen as sacred people in the world. being the only ones trained in order to expel sin – a great monster who destroys everything it sees – from the world and bring upon what is referred to as the calm.

your brother was the last summoner to expel sin. you remember him leaving you in the care of your grandmother, before he left. all you can remember from that day is his bittersweet smile, tears rolling down his cheeks as he bid you goodbye. had you known he would not have returned from his pilgrimage, you would cried, screamed, and done anything to keep him here with you.

but your brother was not selfish like that. he had become a summoner in order to cleanse and rid the world of sin. the monster had taken your parents from you when you too young to remember, but you know that was always his driving force to become a summoner.

"i'll bring about the calm so you can live peacefully. at least if just for a little while," he told you. "i hope you can forgive your brother for leaving you like this."

"you have to promise you'll come back so we can stay together! you have to come back so you can show me all the places you've been to!" you told him not yet realizing what it meant when a summoner brought calm to the world.

not yet realizing that you would never see your brother again.

and so your brother left. he left with his two friends turned guardians and you never saw him again. the next time you heard about your brother was when you heard he defeated sin and brought about the calm. you felt proud knowing your brother did it, he did what he wanted to achieve. but with his victory also came his death.

you managed to hold it together in front of everyone until you were alone. you had ran away to the luminous forest near your village, the place you had been holding up since your brother left. when you were finally by yourself under the glowing pink cherry tree, that's when you finally collapsed and broke down.

sobs left your lips as tears and snot ran down your face. you felt selfish for crying like this when you knew your brother helped save the world – at least for a little while. but you couldn't help it, your brother was all you had after your parents' death, and now you had no one.

and it was when you had the thought of no one that you felt the force of someone's body colliding with yours. their arms wrapping around you and embracing you in a tight and rather warm hug.

you recognized the person immediately as yunho – if his rather lanky stature for a thirteen year old told you anything. and that's when you remembered you weren't entirely alone because you had yunho and hongjoong by your side.

the ones who had been by your side when you weren't able to fully understand or mourn your parents death. the ones who had been beside you when your brother had left for his pilgrimage. and now... they were the ones beside you, comforting you when the news of your brother's death had finally reached you.

you looked up from your lap with teary eyes to see hongjoong kneeled in front of you. his fiery red hair standing out more than usual against the luminous plants, and that's when you realized how selfish and inconsiderate you were being. hongjoong's brother had joined yours on his pilgrimage as one of his guardians, and along with your brother, his brother also had died against sin.

"hong...joong," you want to tell him a thousand things. how sorry you were, that it felt like your fault he had lost his brother, but you can't find the words. can't find the courage.

"its okay," he says before he's wrapping his arms around you and yunho and you immediately hold the older boy close to you. sobbing into his shirt, not caring in the moment about how wet and snotty it would be.

"please..." hongjoong begins after the three of you sit in silence. you're not sure how much time had past when he says something. "please remember that you'll never be alone. me and yunho... we're here for you, y/n. you'll never be alone."

"yeah!" yunho's voice is uplifting, and something you desperately need hear. "you'll always have us because we're best friends and best friends stick together!" you can't see his face, but you know yunho is smiling.

yeah, best friends.

your life soon returned to semi-normal. you had to get use to not seeing your brother, his presence growing fainter and fainter with each passing day. but you were thankful for hongjoong and yunho to fill the void that was now missing in your heart.

you missed your brother dearly, and you knew that even if you got use to him being gone, you would always miss him. but you knew his sacrifice wasn't in vain as the world was able to have peace.

until that peace was quickly destroyed when sin rose a year after you're brother's death and sacrifice. the monster destroying several villages and even one of the more prominent cities in halazia. when the news spread of sin's return you felt your whole being want to scream out in terror and anguish. your brother's sacrifice only held the damn monster back for a year?

"y/n, are you okay?" yunho has asked you one night as the two of you sat under the cherry tree. its glowing pink petals giving your best friend a rather lovely look. the pink of the leaves bouncing off nicely against his peach colored hair. you had to scold yourself for admiring your best friend like that.

"i'm fine... i just– i just wish his death didn't feel so pointless," you confess as you pulled your knees to chest and rested your head against them.

"i'm sorry... i wish there was something i could to help you," he tells you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a comforting squeeze.

"i do too," you whisper as you look out at the forest life around you. you were afraid that now that sin was back, your brother's memory and sacrifice would be forgotten. you didn't want that to happen. you couldn't let that happen.

and that's when it hit you.

"yunho," you begin turning to him and earning his full attention, "i'm going to become a summoner and–

"no," he cuts you off and you've never seen him this serious before. "i'm not letting you throw your life away."

"someone has to expel sin from this world. someone has to do it so no one else ever has to die because of that monster," you tell him. you don't know where this decision came from. if it came from anger or sadness, but you knew something had to be done. that you had to end the cycle of summoners continuously sacrificing themselves in order to stop sin from rampaging across the world and killing anymore people.

"no, i... i can't let you do this y/n! me and hongjoong won't let you!"

"its not yours or hongjoong's decision to make! i need to know that i'm not going to lose anymore people to that monster," you say feeling tears begin to form. "i don't know what i would do if i lost you or hongjoong..." you whisper more to yourself than to him.

"there's nothing i can do to stop you?" he ask and you can hear the sadness in his voice.

"no, i've made up my mind. i'm going to train to become a summoner and expel sin from halazia, forever."

you knew that in order to protect hongjoong and yunho, your closest friends, you had to become a summoner and go on the pilgrimage like your brother did. you knew the two males were against it. telling you not to sacrifice yourself to protect them – that they weren't worth you doing such a dangerous journey for.

you were upset at them. mainly hongjoong because between him and yunho, the older male just as outspoken and stubborn and fiery as his hair color. the two of you often butting heads and hongjoong attempted many times to talk you out of becoming a summoner.

"don't be so stupid! don't risk your life for this! no summoner has been able to expel sin permanently!" he shouted at you when you told him of your plan. "yunho! say something, tell her this is pointless!"

"i've tried hongjoong, i've tried, but she's just as stubborn as you are," yunho says, a frown painting his lips as he watches his two best friends argue.

"why won't you just let me do this?" you say, feeling frustrated with your best friend.

"because i can't lose you too! i can't lose you like i lost my brother! don't you see how selfish you're being! you want to protect us, but what about after you're gone! how are me and yunho suppose to carry on knowing our best friend is fucking dead!" he screams, tears running down his face, shocking you and yunho.

from all the years you've known hongjoong, you have never seen him cry. not even when his brother died along with yours. hongjoong always kept a strong facade around you and yunho, something you had always wished you would lower.

well now he has and you don't think you like it very much. especially when you're the reason for his tears. you feel guilty for causing him such distress and anguish, all you want to do it protect him, protect yunho.

you have to fight back your own tears, you don't feel like you deserve to cry especially in front of hongjoong. especially not after he's revealed such a vulnerable piece of himself to you and yunho.

"hongjoong, i'm–

"don't. i don't want you to apologize. i understand why you want to do this. but i just... i just can't support this," he confesses as he looks at you with his teary eyes. "go, become a summoner and go on the pilgrimage, but i won't be there to watch you sacrifice yourself. not for me at least," he adds and you feel your heart shatter.

"what are you saying hongjoong?" you ask feeling like you already know what he's going to say.

"i'm saying... that if you become a summoner then i can't be in your life. can't be your friend. i already lost a brother to sin, and to lose you... i just– fuck, i just can't imagine it," he says, head tilting back to try and stop the tears. you try to fight back your own tears.

"hongjoong... i'm... i'm so sorry," is all you can say. you love hongjoong, he's one of the most important people in your life aside from yunho. you want to live the rest of your life with the two, travel together, experience life together, grow old together, but you can't have those thoughts with sin out there. but if they – hongjoong and yunho – have a chance to do all those things without worry, and without you, then so be it.

"i'm so sorry, hongjoong," you say again, finally letting the tears fall knowing that you're about to lose him. "but i... i already sent a letter to the temple requesting that i come and train. i'm suppose to leave next week," you say and the looks both your best friends give you rips your heart a part.

"what?" yunho's voice is shaky, but you don't have the heart to look at him knowing that he's probably on the verge of crying. "you're leaving? for how long?"

"a few years at least," you tell him softly, finally letting your eyes drift between him and hongjoong.

you watch as hongjoong turns away from you, back facing you before he heads towards the door. yunho calls out his name softly, surprised by his friend's action. but before hongjoong opens your bedroom door and leaves, he turns to look at you with a heartbroken face.

"then i guess this is goodbye," he says before opening the door and leaving. you and yunho are left in shock as you realize you really did just lose your best friend, one of your everything's. gone.

yunho tries to comfort you, but you ask him to leave. he tries to argue, but eventually gives in to your wish of being alone. he gives you a hug, a reassuring hug that always brought you comfort before he's bidding you a goodbye and leaving.

the week goes by and you slowly begin to prepare yourself for leaving. for leaving yunho and... hongjoong behind. hongjoong. you can't help but feel your heart clench at the thought of the red haired male. he's been avoiding you since you told him and yunho about you leaving, keeping his word to not wanting to be in your life as you train to become a summoner. it hurts. it hurts so much, but you try your best to not think about it.

you've noticed that yunho has slowly started to hang around you less in less as your departure days draws near. you don't blame him, you'll be leaving for who knows how long, who knows what will happen in the next few years.

watching the two people you care about, and basically love, slowly drift away from you hurts. you can't help but think if you're being selfish with wanting to do this. with wanting to become a summoner to stop sin. to give them the peaceful life they deserve.

then the day of your departure arrives and you find yourself looking over your village, hoping to see either that familiar peach or red hair come bonding towards you. to give you one final hug and maybe allow you to tell them those deep thoughts about how you feel. but alas nothing, they do not come and the people from the temple ask for you to border the ship that will take you to the temple.

it hurts that neither one of them sees you off. you can't help but wonder if they are sitting at your usually meeting place, the familiar and luminous pink cherry tree in the forest, hiding away from your eyes. hoping that when they leave the forest, you will be far gone.

your grandmother shoots you a sad smile as she places a hand on your shoulder. you meet her sad expression and you can't help but feel heartbroken because of the two. they have a right to be upset, but did that really mean to forget you completely?

and so you board the boat, knowing you'll never get to properly say goodbye to hongjoong and yunho. the fear of not knowing if you'll ever see them again rises high within you, but you push it down. and then the boat leaves the dock and starts to sail out and away from your hometown.

training at the temple wasn't easy. having to control your maso, magic, was a challenge itself, and to control it and have enough to summon aeons felt impossible. but eventually you got it. you thought about the sacrifice your brother made, how sin took away your parents, and then your mind would drift to hongjoong and yunho.

you still wanted to protect hongjoong and yunho despite them separating their bonds from you. you still cared deeply for them. you still lo–

no. you think that. they were your best friends, all you had in the world, so of course you cared about them. but to love them? did you even fully understand that emotion? you wanted to understand the emotion, to say with your whole chest that yes, you do in fact love your best friends.

but you couldn't. you gave up that chance when you chose to become a summoner. they would never forgive you, never return those feelings.

especially after seven years of not seeing them. you had left your home village when you were fourteen, and since then you had been training day and night to become the best summoner you could be. but you did it, you learned how to control your maso, learned how to summon the aeons, and even learned the sending ritual that sends the spirits to the afterlife. you learned it all and made sure it was perfect.

you were praised by the people of the temple and other summoners. praised again and again for your abilities and how natural it all seemed to come for you. told you that your brother would be proud of you.

you wanted to be happy to know how far you have come in seven years, that all the training paid off, but can you really be happy with yourself if you know that hongjoong and yunho never would be.

you try to not think about them. try so hard to erase them from your memory, but you can't. this is all for them, despite how selfish it is of you to continue with this or how selfish it is of them to leave you. but you can't forget them. you love them after all, despite how silly it may seem. you truly do love them.

that's why you secretly dread returning back to your home village after seven years. you can’t help but wonder how much of the place you use to call home has changed. if anything has changed that is. but most importantly, has hongjoong and yunho changed?

of course they probably have, it’s been seven years. you wonder if they’re still friends or did they drift apart over the years. you hope not.

when you returned back to your village, everyone greeted you like you were some celebrity. welcoming you back with bright smiles and warm faces, it was odd. odd in the sense that you were only use to their pity-filled eyes and sorrowful faces after your brother died. but this was different, you weren't going to complain necessarily, but it was still odd.

"are you going on the pilgrimage, lady y/n?" you were asked by one of the villagers.

"no, i'm not. i finished my training and was allowed to come back home until i'm needed by the temple," it couldn't help the odd feeling of calling this place home again. for seven years the temple had been what you called home, and so to not call it such was just... weird.

"lady y/n, thank you for your sacrifice," another villager told you as they bowed, but you quickly stopped them. you had nothing to deserve their praise.

"please, you do not have to bow. i have done nothing to earn it," you told them, but it was actually yunho's mother who spoke up.

"my dear lady y/n, you're a summoner now and summoners earn the respect whether they go on the pilgrimage or not," she tells you and your heart twist at her words.

you want to ask her how yunho is, but you bite your tongue and instead only nod at her words. did you really have the right to ask her about her son?

soon everyone went about their day, leaving you by yourself and you were thankful they all eventually left you alone. many villagers greeted you as you passed by, making your way back to your grandmother's house.

your grandmother looked at you with a proud look before she embraced you, pulling you into her arms and hugging you. it had been awhile since you were hugged like this.

"welcome home, y/n," she tells you and it felt nice to just be called by your name.

hongjoong had changed a lot in the seven years you had been gone. as expected he would, but you're shocked to see just how handsome he got. his bright red hair grown out in a mullet-style, and his eyes looking sharper than when he was fifteen. he has an air of authority around him and you have to stop yourself from calling out to him.

you notice the sword hanging off his back and you're surprised to recognize it as his brother's sword. hongjoong never gave off the warrior vibe, that was always yunho surprisingly. it seems like you weren't the only one to follow in their sibling's footsteps.

his eyes flicker over and meet yours and you felt your heart both speed up and clench in pain when you met his eyes. it sped up because you finally seeing him after so long, proving your feelings never died like you wanted them too. it clenched in pain; however, due to the coldness and emotionless void his eyes held. like you were a stranger to him, and nothing more. like you hadn't spent most of your childhood together. it hurt. it hurt a lot.

"lady y/n, welcome back," he says greeting you, but you wish he hadn't. his voice had gotten a little deeper, but it was cold like his eyes. you were a stranger to him, he really cut you off like you meant nothing to him. you couldn't help but notice how he didn't say home, just welcome back.

was this not your home to? was he not your home when you were fourteen? when you were thirteen and him and yunho were all you had to call home.

"thank you," you say trying to hide the hurt in your voice, but ultimately failing. you're quick to turn away from him and make your way back to your grandmother's house.

didn't want to accept that you and hongjoong were now complete strangers, but unfortunately that's what he did a long time ago.

seeing yunho hurt just as much as when you seen hongjoong. the taller male had come bearing a gift to you and your grandmother – from his mother he tells you.

"oh, um, thank you, yunho," his name felt odd yet familiar rolling off your lips as you take the basket from him.

he's even more handsome than you remember, his peach colored hair still framing his face lovingly and giving him this soft look to him despite his tall stature wanting to do otherwise. his voice had deepened more than hongjoong's and you had to stop yourself from letting your knees get weak.

but seeing how much he's changed wasn't what hurt the most. it was young woman that tagged along with him, basically hanging off of him looking lovestruck. you recognized her as one of the girls you all grew up with, but her name was unfortunately drawing a blank.

"of course, lady y/n," he says and hearing the title pains just as much as when hongjoong spoke it. "and... welcome back to the village," he adds and while it was less cold and distant that hongjoong's greeting, it still felt like he was thousands of years a part from you.

again, your heart clenched at knowing they seen you as nothing but a stranger. just a summoner who shared the same village as them. you guess maybe this would make them accept you being gone much easier if you were to go on the pilgrimage, but right now it sucked. you hated it and wanted to scream at yunho for closing himself off to you. at hongjoong for being such a jerk and leaving you alone.

yunho and the girl bid you farewell before they turn and leave. you notice how they hold hands as they walk away and you felt like breaking down and sobbing right then and there.

this fucking sucks, you think as you close the door and set the basket on the dining table. before you go to your room and lock yourself away from the rest of the evening. thoughts about what would have happened if you just stayed here and didn't become a summoner.

would you still be close to yunho and hongjoong? probably. would yunho be the one holding your hand instead of that girl? would hongjoong look at you with emotions rather than as nothing? probably.

but you would never know because you chose to become a summoner, and you can't regret it. not when you have the opportunity to eventually defeat sin and bring peace. maybe it was for the best that hongjoong and yunho were like strangers to you now. didn't want to accept it, your heart still yearning for them, but you knew that eventually it would be okay.

it was in fact, not going to be okay.

you realized that you couldn't get over not being able to see or talk to hongjoong and yunho like you use to. deep inside you, your heart just couldn't except the fact that they just weren't in your life anymore. it didn't help that every attempt you made to talk to them ended in failure. hongjoong would simply give you the cold shoulder and walk away while yunho would just give you a curt "i'm good, lady y/n," before scurrying off in the opposite direction.

it also doesn't help that you've overheard the girl you've seen with yunho talk about a potential engagement. yunho... engaged? the thought didn't sit well and you felt like you could throw up if you continue to think about it.

you couldn't take being in the village anymore with how high your emotions were raging and found yourself rushing into the forest close to the village. the darkness it brought felt a sort of comfort you hadn't experienced in a while. the luminous plants bring back happy memories. happy memories that soon bring in a dark cloud as you remember that they will be just that, a memory.

you won't ever get to share hushed secrets and comforting hugs with yunho or teasing remarks and longing looks with hongjoong anymore. fuck, why are you still hung up so much on the past when it obvious they have moved on.

moved on from you and the memories you shared.

it was underneath the luminous cherry tree where you fell to your knees and finally let out the heart-wrenching sob you had been holding in for four months now. tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision as you sat on the forest ground and just cried. you felt angry at yourself for getting so worked up over all of this. angry and childish.

you punched the ground out of anger at yourself and this whole thing. you were the only one suffering in this emotional turmoil, you felt like. hongjoong and yunho... they seemed find. content with their life without you, so why couldn't you do the same.

it was always that same damn question, over and over again.

you couldn't help punch the ground again as you thought about how childish you were being. you chose to do this to yourself, you chose to leave them and become a summoner. stop being so childish and accept the consequences of your actions.

you punched the ground a few more times, ignoring the odd sensation coming from your knuckles as you pressed your head to the ground. tears still came pouring out along with snot running down your nose. every time you opened your mouth, only sob escaped you and you felt spit running out of your mouth a little bit. your whole body shook as you started to hyperventilate.

you fisted your hand so tightly you felt your nails digging into the flesh of your palm, but you ignored it. continuing to cry, you ignored all the sounds of life around you. you honestly could care less if a random monster appeared now.

that's when you suddenly felt yourself being jerked up from the ground. everything was moving so fast that you couldn't comprehend what was even happening until you felt two hands cupping your face and making you look at the figure in front of you.

even through your blurry tears you could make out the familiar head of peach hair, his whole presence giving off the same comfort feeling it did all those years ago. it honestly made you want to sob even harder. you hate how familiar and comforting yunho is. how despite the years apart, your whole being still seeks him out like when you were teenagers.

"oh, y/n... what have you done," he says, voice concerning as he takes your hand into his. when you look down, that's when you notice how bloody your knuckles are.

"why..." is all you can say as you attempt to wipe your tears away before more come out, you watch yunho as he does his best in wrapping your hand up. why are you here? is what you really want to ask. you want to push him away and yell at him, to tell him to stay away, but you couldn't find the strength.

"i seen you running into the forest, and i remember that you only did that when you were upset. so i... came after you," he says.

you can't help but furrow your eyebrows at his words. he... came after you?

"but... i-i don't... why? why are you here?" you're at a lose for words by him and you can't help but feel angry and upset. you rip your hand away from his and you notice his shocked expression before it turns in a sad one. what gave him the right to come after you after four months of avoiding you. "after so long... i've been back for four months, four months of trying to talk to you only for you to blow me off! why now when i'm sitting here crying! because of you!" you say pushing at him to get him to move away from you, but yunho doesn't budge.

instead he just lets you push at him and weakly smack his chest. he allows you vent all your emotions out on him as you continue to smack him and even cuss at him.

"i hate you so much, why did you leave me?" you sobbed, understanding how much of a hypocrite you are by saying that. when you were finally done, no more energy left to give that's when yunho pulled you into his arms.

they wrapped around you and welcomed you in the embrace you have been waiting for again for seven years. and just when you think you ran out of tears to, they just appear right again. you felt like you were thirteen again when yunho comforted you after your brother died. he hand a comforting hand over your head as he hugged you.

"i'm... i'm so sorry, y/n," he whispers once your tears finally stop. you can't help but notice the cherry blossom petals slowing falling around you both as he speaks. "i just so upset at knowing you were suddenly leaving. i regret never being there when you left, and i regret never greeting you when you came back. i was... i was just scared at knowing that i would eventually lose you and i couldn't handle it. i was scared to let you back into my life knowing that you would just leave again," you feel your heart clenched tightly at his confession.

"yunho..." you say but you had no idea what you were actually going to say. you think that maybe you just wanted to feel his name roll off you tongue after so long.

you pull yourself away from yunho in order to look at him and you're surprised by the teary expression his has on his face. he gives you a watery smile and when the tears fall, you can't help but to wipe them away.

"i don't want to lose you again," he tells you as you cup his face and you see his hands hesitate before he's doing the same. "i don't think my heart could handle losing you again," he says before he's resting his forehead against yours.

"you'll... you'll never lose me, yunho," you tell him, you want to so badly to tell him how you feel. how you've always felt, but you're scared. scared to confess how much you truly love him.

"i'm glad you came back. i waited day by day for news of your return. i had wondered how you had changed and so when you finally came back... y/n, i was so shocked by how beautiful you got," he tells you with a soft laugh.

"i wondered the same thing. when i could see you and– when i could see you again," you say correcting yourself, but yunho catches it.

"hongjoong... hongjoong i think misses you a lot. he doesn't want to admit how much he loves you because he's worried about losing you, but... just know that deep down he's glad you're back," he tells you and you let out a soft hum at his words.

"i think i owe the both of you an apology. i really di–

yunho doesn't let you finish before he's kissing you. his lips smashing against your and it catches you off guard for a second before you're kissing him back. your arms wrapping around his neck as you both attempt to hold each other closer.

you can't help but find comfort in the fact that your first kiss is with one of the people you love the most in the world and in your favorite spot. the cherry tree's pink lights giving off that romantic feeling you didn't want to admit you had been yearning and missing, but it really was something you needed. you're breathless when you pull away from yunho's lips and you have to suppress the smile that threatens to appear when he's attempting to chase your lips to kiss you again.

but then something hits it, hard.

"wait, what about that girl that was with you when you dropped off that basket from your mother?"

"hmm? oh, you mean eunha? what about her?"

"aren't you dating her or about to be engaged?"

"well, you see... i- i broke it off with her before i came to find you. i only dated her to make my mom happy, but we talked a few days ago. she told me to stop being stupid and not to date or marry to make her happy, but to do it to make me happy."

"so... you didn't like that eunha?"

"no. i couldn't, not when i love you and hongjoong too much."

you felt your heart skip a beat at his words. he likes you? but not just like, he loves you.

"yunho," you call out his name earning his attention and you immediately bring him back down to your lips. his crashing against yours as you run your hand through his hair. when you pull away you can't help the words that escape your lips, "i love you too."

the thing you probably hated the most about being a summoner had to be performing the sending ritual. sure to any witnesses the ritual was this beautiful thing that helped the deceased pass on, but to summoners... it was a taxing thing that really didn't help them feel better.

"lady y/n, one of the nearby villages is requesting that you come and help them," your village leader said, "sin attacked the village and left the place a ruin... if could go and help them–

"it would be an honor," you tell him, cutting him off. you knew what he was going to say, people in the village had lost both their homes and loved ones. summoners were seen as a sign of hope for those that survived a rampage against sin.

"thank you," the older man says, "i'll make sure you have an escort to guide you since you do not have any guardians to accompany you," he tells you and you thank him before leaving to prepare for your journey.

you can't help but frown at the mention of not having a guardian. guardians were often seen as protectors of summoners, warriors to put it simply. they were often usually close to the summoner, someone the summoner could trust with their life as they journey around the world or when they finally took on the pilgrimage. you think it was rather obvious why you didn't any guardians.

according to your village leader, it would take a day to journey to the next village. you're glad it won't take the longer. the sooner you can help that village the better it could help settle some of them down to a somewhat peaceful mind.

"lady y/n," you're shocked at the sound of the familiar voice, turning around you are met with the familiar cold eyes of hongjoong as he stands before you. "i was asked to accompany you to the next village. yunho will also be joining us," he tells you and you feel a sense of dread rush over you knowing that hongjoong will be traveling with you.

fuck, this is most he's spoken to you in seven months since you're return to the village.

"alright, i'll pack my things quickly and meet you both at the gate," you tell him and he nods before turning and walking away from you. you licked your lips nervously before turning on your heels and making your way back to your grandmother's house to pack.

"be careful, dear," your grandmother tells you and you give her a grateful smile before you're bidding her goodbye as you make your way to the village gate.

hongjoong and yunho are already there waiting for you and you see the two talking in rather hushed voices. you're glad to know that after all this time, hongjoong and yunho remained close to each other.

yunho notices you first and greets you with a smile while hongjoong simply gives you a once over. you try to ignore the awful feeling in your chest, as this journey wasn't about you. it was about helping the neighboring village.

"shall we be off then, lady y/n," yunho says and you nod before the three of you make your way into the forest.

the journey was as eventful as one would expect with the occasional run-in with a few monsters. the three of you easily taking them down and before you knew it, the sun had set and the moon was slowly taking its place.

"let's stop and set up camp here," hongjoong says and you and yunho agree without hesitation, tired from the day's journey. setting up camp was done without a sweat and before you know it, the three of you are sitting around a camp fire.

you could basically taste the tension that was between the three of you. sure your relationship with yunho was going smoothly, him often visiting you after his guard duties, but your relationship with hongjoong is literally nonexistent. he's still been shooting down all you attempts to talk to him, giving you the harshest cold shoulder ever.

you had to hand it to yunho though, he was trying his best to ease said tension, but it was obvious hongjoong didn't want to talk to you.

"yunho, just stop," hongjoong says finally. you notice the rather deep blush that overtakes yunho's face, neck, and ears and you can't help but admire how cute he looks despite how he was obviously embarrassed. "i'm only doing this because i was asked to. not because i want to sit here and share cute little stories with her. we aren't teenagers anymore, and i don't want anything to do with her," he talks as if you aren't there, and it hurts.

is that really how he sees you? as some memory from when he was younger that he didn't want anything to do with? was there no chance at building a relationship back?

"hongjoong, you're being to harsh on y/n," yunho says, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at his childhood friend.

"how am i being too harsh, yunho? i'm not the one who left us to become a summoner?" hongjoong says back, eyes hard and you can see the fire behind them as he talks. "i'm not the one that's going to sacrifice themselves for a pointless cause," he says and you can feel your heart clench at how hurt you are.

yes, you decided to leave them, but it for them. yes, it was probably a selfish thing to do without considering their feelings, but to say things like this to you. hongjoong was only doing this to hurt you. you couldn't stand to be around him any longer, you felt the tears once again threatening to spill and you had to get away.

hongjoong let out a humorless laugh as he watches you get up and walk away from him and yunho, "of course! run away like you always do, not caring about the mess you left behind!" he spits out, but you continue into your tent just as the tears fell.

you stayed the rest of the night in your tent, curled up and refusing to cry over hongjoong. at some point throughout the night, yunho comes in and lays down next to you. you appreciate how he hold you close to him and even more that he doesn't say anything to you. the both of you just lay in silence, yunho rubbing comforting circles on your skin and lulling you to sleep.

the neighboring village was in a lot more ruin than you could have guessed. you felt your heart clench and body shake as you took in the destroyed village around you. the houses destroyed and many of the villagers crying out in mourning over their lost ones.

the village leader approaches you with a mournful look, "oh! thank you summoner and her guardians for coming," he says and bows to you. you feel your stomach twist at how the leader calls yunho and hongjoong your guardians and you're about to correct him when yunho speaks up instead.

"of course, we're here to help as much as we can," he says as both him and hongjoong greet the leader. the leader thanks you three again before he's giving tasks to help the villagers to hongjoong and yunho before he's leading you to where their dead as been set and ready to be sent to the afterlife.

"we'll have the ritual ready to perform soon. please take your time as you talk to people, they could really use some help, lady y/n," he says before leaving you by yourself. you grip your staff tightly as you look at the number of how many people fell at the hands of sin. it twists your stomach once more and it makes you want to throw up.

however, you push the lump in your throat down and take a deep breath before your bowing to the deceased and making your way around the village to talk to the people left of it. they thank you for coming and for sending off their lost loved ones. it makes you feel better about becoming a summoner as you can help everyone here hopeful find peace. because at the end of the day, that's all you want from being a summoner. peace.

the sending ritual took place at sunset, the bodies of the deceased submerged under the water and the people of the village watching from the beach. tears in their eyes as some of them tried not to break out in sobs and mournful cries. you took a deep breath before you took a few hesitant steps onto the water.

your swung your staff from side to side, twisting the staff in your hands the further you walked out into the walk. you had done this plenty of times before when you were training, going through the motions of performing the ritual. however, this is the first time yunho and hongjoong will watch the ritual and you felt nervous for some reason.

you want to show them that you are a good summoner, that you spent the last seven years training for this.

hongjoong felt like he was in a trance as he watched you perform the sending ritual. the fires lit around him, yunho, and the grieving villagers turned from the usually orange-yellow tint to a sudden blue-purple tint and grew just slightly. he watched as you waved your staff from side to side over the deceased that were below you in the water.

then he watched as the water rose you and sprouted up like some fountain. you continued performing the ritual, like the water suddenly rising you up and coming to life didn't phase you.

him and yunho both watched as the pyreflies, the spiritual life force of people, began to leave the bodies and floated up around you and into the sky. hongjoong felt a cold chill run over his body as he watched the scene before him. he had heard of the sending ritual before, everyone in halazia was familiar with it, but to witness it. to witness a summoner perform it, wasn't something he ever thought he would see it.

he couldn't deny how otherworldly you looked while performing the ritual. he couldn't deny how beautiful you had become over the last seven years, he felt his stomach twist as he watched you perform your summoner duties and realizing that you would eventually leave him eventually to perform your summoner duties. he was afraid to get close to you again, to let you in again, only to lose you forever.

so he kept you away and at a distance. he knew that yunho frowned upon his actions and attitude towards you.

"she looks so beautiful," yunho says, still in awe as he watches you.

"yeah... she really does," hongjoong says and that seems to snap yunho out of his trance of you.

"you know... you should try to talk to her," yunho says and hongjoong knows he's right. yunho is always right when it comes to these types of things. "she... she loves you as well, always has."

when the ritual was over, both males watched as you were lowered back to the ground by the water. the pyreflies having ascended into the sky moments before the ritual was over.

yunho notices how you seem to be lacking some energy, but before he could approach you, hongjoong beats him to you and rushes to you and catches you in his arms. you let out a groan as you lean onto hongjoong who wraps you in his arms.

"hong...joong?" you're surprised that its hongjoong who catches you and holds you against his body.

"you did so well, y/n, no tears next time okay?" he says brushing away the tears you didn't realize had escaped. the sending ritual always was emotional for you, you had even thought you were successful in not crying this time.

hongjoong helps you over towards yunho who smiles down at you. when you regain your energy, you're able to stand by yourself and you move away from hongjoong. hongjoong can't help but feel a frown painting his lips, but he knows why you've slightly distanced yourself from him.

"i think its about time we all talk," yunho says as he smiles at the two of you, he runs a hand over both yours and hongjoong's head before bringing the both of you into a hug.

the following night, the three of you sat around another fire similar to the night before, and you and your two childhood best friends talked.

"i became a summoner because i was angry that my brother's sacrifice wasn't enough. he had become a summoner to defeat sin because the monster took our parents, but he also wanted to make sure i lived a peaceful life. i wanted to make sure his wish was fulfilled. you both... you're the most important people in my life. my home. i wanted to give you a peaceful life without sin. i want to defeat him once and for all," you tell them as both hongjoong and yunho sat on either sides of you.

"y/n... do you know how about impossible that sounds?" hongjoong asks and he's right. it sounds absolutely crazy and impossible, but its been something you've been training for, for the last seven years now.

"but its something i need to do," you tell him, "i want to make sure everyone can live a peaceful life and no more summoners have to die. i don't want to die, but i want to defeat sin," you tell them.

yunho couldn't help but let out a laugh, "you want to kill sin?"

you nod and hongjoong looks at you like you have grown two heads. you can tell he wants to protest, but stops himself. instead he takes your hand into his and gives you a comforting squeeze. the sudden closeness of hongjoong feels nice. it feels nice to finally be close to him again, but you couldn't ignore the somewhat awkward tension between the two of you.

you know it'll take a little bit before the awkwardness goes away, but that's how it was with yunho. you had seven years and seven months to catch up on.

everything seemed to be going well until you received a letter from the temple. the letter tells you about how the summoner who had decided to go on the pilgrimage to cleanse the world and put sin to sleep had quit halfway through his journey.

the news shocks you, you've never heard about a summoner quitting their pilgrimage before. you can't help but wonder what had happened. maybe he got cold feet and suddenly didn't have the courage to sacrifice himself. maybe he wasn't as prepared as he thought he was.

it was easy to think of reason after reason, but you concluded that maybe it was best if you didn't know.

continuing the letter, you're shocked when the temple asks for you to take on the pilgrimage instead. the heads of the temple sending you praise once more through the letter and saying that they had no doubts that you would succeed in the pilgrimage and bringing about the calm.

this is what you had spent seven years of your life training for. this was what you had dedicated your teenage and first years of adulthood to. to finally go on the pilgrimage and stop sin once and for all, to give hongjoong and yunho the peacefully life they deserved.

but how would they react? you had just gotten them back and you know it took a lot to earn hongjoong's trust back. it took a lot just to finally tell them both how you feel. how the love you had for them at age fourteen didn't just go away, but instead grew more and more. you knew that without you they would be fine. you finally had the chance to give them the life they deserved.

on the other hand, you wanted to be selfish. you wanted to deny the chance of the pilgrimage if it meant being able to stay with hongjoong and yunho just a little longer. but could actually risk the lives of thousands – millions – for a little bit of happiness?

you let out a sigh as you folded the letter back up as looked out at the sea before you, the sun was setting and hongjoong and yunho would be over soon. you knew you had to make a decision soon.

stay with your two lovers or go on the pilgrimage.

"what?" hongjoong is surprised by what you told him and yunho about the letter.

"the previous summoner that was going on his pilgrimage quit and so the temple asked if i wanted to go on it instead," you restate what you told him. the three of you had met in the forest near your village underneath the cherry tree.

"so are you going?" yunho asks after the three of you sit in a few moments of silence.

"i... i don't know," you confess, truly unsure if you want to go on the journey. "i mean, this is what i spent the last seven, eight years preparing for," you add as you look down at you hands which rested in your lap. "i just got the both of you back in my life, and i can't imagine losing you both again like i did. i know you don't want me to leave," you say looking at hongjoong, "but a part of me is telling me to go."

"then go, baby," yunho says as he takes one of your hands into his. "you want to kill sin, and bring peace to halazia. do it, go on the pilgrimage, defeat sin once and for all and then come back to us," he adds, as he gives you warm smile.

your eyes filter over to hongjoong, waiting for him to say something, but instead he remains silent as he lays against the ground, looking up at the luminous cherry tree and the petals that floated down and around the three of you.

"hongjoong..." you call out to your lover softly, in an attempt to get his attention.

"this is what you want. to fulfill your brother's wish and i can't stop you, no matter how much i want to object and fight to keep you. it was just be a pointless and heartbreaking fight," he says as he looks at you and then sits up.

he moves until you and him are centimeters apart, noses touching and you feel a little flushed by the sudden closeness, "you have to promise to come back to me and yunho. you hear?" he says and you nod your head and he cracks a smile before he's pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"hey let's get married," yunho suggests and you and hongjoong turn to look at him with wide eyes. he can't help the blush that covers his cheeks when he realizes the two of you are looking at him. "well... maybe not literally, but let's at least promise to always love and look after each other no matter how far apart we are from each other," he adds.

"and when you get back from defeating sin, we'll make it official," hongjoong adds with a hum.

"oh geez, you two," you say feeling a heat rise to your face as you try to fan your face to cool yourself off.

yunho can only laugh as he pulls you to rest between his legs and you find comfort in feeling trapped between him and hongjoong, who moves to sit in front of you and also between yunho's rather long legs.

"y/n," hongjoong begins taking your hands into his and you feel yunho's hands also come to rest over them, "will you spend the rest of you life with me and yunho?"

you let out a small laugh as you nod, feeling the tears start to well up in your eyes as you look at your childhood friend who has a similar expression on his face. he smiles at you before he's kissing you.

"i love you both," you say when hongjoong pulls away from you.

"good because you're stuck with us," yunho says before he's reaching down to kiss you as next.

the next thing you know, you are entangled with your two lovers as you three kiss each other. hands moving and pulling at clothes as you are rested on the ground and you admire the glowing, beautiful cherry tree as you and two lovers all become one.

and then when it was all over, the three of you were laying there underneath the tree and basking into each other's warmth and presence, knowing that you will be leaving them in a just a few days.

you feel a sense of deja vu rush over you as stand on the familiar dock looking over the your home village. seeing it right here in the same spot you stood in eight years ago now, helps you realize that nothing about the small village had changed. you can't help but smile at this realizing fact and you're glad some things will never change.

however, while you're about to set off on your pilgrimage, you had hoped that some things would change from when you were fourteen. mainly being that hongjoong and yunho would be here to see you off. you don't expect them to go with you, it would be too selfish to ask, but you would hope to see them one last time.

one last time before you–

no, you can't think that why yet. not when your journey has just barely begun.

"are you ready lady y/n?" the boat work asks you and you're about to answer him when a sudden yell sounds throughout the area.

"hey!! wait for us!!" you whip around at the familiar voice and see an even more familiar shade of peach and red running towards you. you feel your heart about to jump out of your chest at the sight of your two lovers, and you have to stop yourself from breaking down into tears of happiness.

"what are you guys doing?" you ask and you can't help but hope for a specific answer.

"well, we've decided to come with on your pilgrimage. we–

"we decided that we aren't going to let you do it alone," yunho cuts off hongjoong making the short of the two males huff in annoyance at his lover.

"b-but i can't ask that of you guys, its too dangerous!" you say because as much as you want them to come with you, you can't risk putting them in danger.

"exactly," hongjoong says looking at you with soft eyes, "that's exactly why we need to come with you. y/n, you don't have any guardians, how do you expect to protect yourself from all the different monsters?"

you can't help but feel rather embarrassed at realizing you don't have an exact answer for him. mainly because you don't have one.

"exactly," he says, reaching his hand out to take yours, "that's why me and yunho need to come. to protect you. i made a mistake eight years ago by shutting you out, afraid of losing you like i did my brother, but i know now that it was wrong of me. if i'm going to lose you then... then i'm going to be with you until the very end," hongjoong says and you can't help but tear up at his words.

"hongjoong's right," yunho says, gently taking your other hand into his, "we'll both protect you and be with you until the very end. the three of us forever and ever."

you don't stop the tears that run down your face as you pull your two lovers into you and embrace them. they immediately wrap their arms around you and each other.

"forever and ever."

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funnylittlelad · 1 year

Text

Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Thank you for (over) 200 followers!!

Masterlist - AO3

Rule One >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 12k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, almost teenage car shenanigans, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma., Steve's dad is his own warning, We Love Callahan In This House.

Prologue: Accidents Happen

It happens by accident. At least, that's what you tell yourself. You’d had the odd relationship here and there, but it’s never been serious. It's never been allowed to be serious. Your dad made sure of that. He scared anyone off before they got too comfortable. Usually, you're fine with that. It saves you a lot of trouble in the long run. You like that you don't have to commit. That's why Steve Harrington coming out of nowhere scares the living shit out of you.

Over the past year, you’d gotten closer to him. Not a lot, but enough for him to get a foothold. Then he started working at the ice cream shop next to your job at the mall arcade. You’d pop in every so often to say hi to Robin. She was one of the few friends your dad approved of. He never stopped you from being friends with people, but there would always be a telltale hmph. After a few weeks, you started visiting more, only it wasn't for Robin. It was for Steve Harrington and his little sailor shorts.

“You’re gonna get me fired with all these free samples,” Steve pretends to complain with crossed arms.

You finish polishing off the most recent little spoon with a smile.

“You’re the one that keeps giving them to me, Mr. One-Per-Customer,” you tease.

“Don't you have snot to clean off of some video game?” he jabs, leaning forward on the counter.

“I got off and you seemed like you needed company,” you shrug.

“Well, I get off in fifteen. What d’you say to keeping me company through a movie?” Steve asks in a rare show of bashfulness, picking at an invisible spot on the counter.

You grow a dazzling grin.

“I say that sounds fun.”

It was fun. Until Steve drove you home. Your driveway is lit only by the last reaches of sunlight, an orange fading to purple over the trees. On the front porch, leaning with his forearms against the railing, and a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth is your dad. He watches Steve’s car with narrowed eyes, taking a slow drag. The half-unbuttoned uniform tells you he just got off duty.

“Should I say hi?” Steve asks unsure.

“No,” you sigh, “We’re about to fight.”

Steve looks at you startled.

“What?”

“Jonathan isn't home, which means I was supposed to come back right after work to watch Will and El. Except Will and El don't need a babysitter, but I need a life. So, we’re about to fight,” you explain like it's a simple equation.

“Right, I forgot Hopper and Joyce shacked up,” Steve nods.

“Don't talk about my dad shacking up,” you scrunch your face in disgust.

“Sorry,” Steve laughs and stretches an arm over the back of your seat around the headrest, “When can I see you again?”

A spiced apple scent surrounds you, rolling off of him. A smell that's Steve’s and Steve’s alone.

“You see me almost every time you work,” you point out with a light blush.

“I know, but I mean like this,” he gestures between you with his free hand.

The smile that crawls onto your face is impossible to fight off. You glance back at your dad. He’s stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray on the railing. Then he pulls out the pack of Camels that's always in his breast pocket and takes out another. His eyes stay glued on Steve as he lights it, settling back into his position on the railing to make it clear he isn't going anywhere.

“I’m free tomorrow after four,” you look back at Steve who is still watching you.

Your heart races under his scrutiny.

“Pick you up at four-thirty?” He raises his eyebrows hopefully.

“See you then.”

You slip out of Steve’s beemer with one last smile. Your back stays to your father as you gently wave at Steve while he pulls out. Once he’s driving away you sigh. There’s no more putting this off. You turn around slowly to find your dad standing upright with his arms crossed. The newest cigarette hangs from the side of his mouth.

“You’re late,” he states.

“And the house is still standing,” you gesture behind him.

“Why was Harrington bringing you home?” he questions, jerking his chin toward the now-empty space in the driveway.

“Because we’re friends and we hung out after work,” you shrug.

“Friends, huh?”

“Yes, dad, friends. Y’know, those things I have every now and then until you scare them off,” you cross your own arms.

“That's all you are?” he checks suspiciously.

“Yes, that's all we are,” you confirm.

“Alright,” he nods in understanding, “You’re grounded.”

“What? You can't ground me! I’m nineteen years old!” You argue.

“My roof,” he shoots back.

“This is bullshit,” you scoff.

Your dad’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks around like there are people around to witness your audacity.

“You were supposed to come home after work. What if something happened?” He reminds you sternly.

Your arms flail angrily in the air toward the house.

“Nothing happened! Will and El are fourteen; they don't need me to watch them!”

“You’re grounded for a week,” he deadpans.

You let out a humorless laugh. Frustration bubbles in your chest until you can feel it pressing against your eyes. You hold the tears in. They’ll do you no good here.

“Dad, you have to accept that I’m not a child at some point,” you snap.

“Good to know,” he drawls, “Check back at the end of the week and see where I’m at.”

“You're ridiculous,” you grumble as you storm past him, slamming the front door behind you.

Will and El sit wide-eyed on the couch totally not listening. You ignore them as you storm down the hall to the room you share with Jonathan, slamming that door too. With a groan, you flop face-first on your bed and let out a half scream into your pillow. There’s a soft knock on the door.

“What,” you call out, face still in the pillow so your voice is muffled.

The door creaks, just like all the doors in this house.

“Are you okay?” El’s voice asks from the doorway.

You sigh and turn your head to look at her. The grown-out hair looks good on her. The confidence it brings her looks even better. El has been your sister since the moment you met her, no question about it. Even if it hurts like hell to look at her sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I wasn't home,” you answer softly.

“It is okay. Will has been helping me get ready for school,” she says.

You smile and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“You excited to start?”

She shrugs with a small smile.

“Nervous,” she decides.

You nod.

“That's normal. Don’t worry. You’ll have Will with you and I’ll be here when you get home,” you promise.

She nods, shoulders relaxing.

“Is dad upset?”

“Yeah, he is,” you sigh.

“Joyce will fix it,” she assures you.

“You’re probably right,” you agree.

Joyce likely will fix it. She seems to be the only person who can really get through to your dad. It's something you're endlessly grateful for. You love your new family members. You really do. You just wish there was more room. You wish you had your own space. You wish there wasn't a battle every day for the shower before all the hot water is gone. You wish the food containers were always full and never put back empty, always causing a fight.

“I miss the cabin too,” El admits quietly as if she read your mind.

A small, sad smile crawls onto your lips.

“Dad and Joyce have been trying to find somewhere bigger. We won't be so cramped soon,” you tell her, mostly trying to convince yourself.

“Good,” she nods.

Later that night Joyce does indeed fix everything. At the very least, she got you ungrounded. She manages to make your dad realize that grounding you is not only a little extreme but a bit childish. He even begrudgingly agrees to Will and El being home without supervision more. Not a lot more, but more nonetheless.

The next day Steve picks you up at four-thirty sharp. Your skin buzzes as you slide into his car. He’s smiling before you even get in. It's lovely, like a sunset over a meadow. Soft, light, and calming. You end up getting milkshakes and sitting on the hood of his car in the back parking lot of the diner. It's a nice evening, warm and breezy. Golden hour transforms Steve into something otherworldly. Every blond highlight becomes so much more, his skin looks like it's glowing, and his eyes are sweet glimmering butterscotch candies on you.

“I hope I didn't get you in too much trouble last night,” he says with a smirk.

“You didn't. I'm pretty sure he likes you anyways. Y’know, after you helped save the world and his kid. He was mad at me, but I think he’s over it,” you answer.

“It must’ve been hard having the police chief as your dad growing up,” Steve comments thoughtfully.

“It was,” you smile wryly, “It didn't get me invited to any parties, that's for sure.”

Steve cringes as red blooms across his cheeks. He sips on his milkshake, avoiding your amused eyes. The two of you weren't friends in school by a long shot. When he finds them again, his own are far more apologetic than they need to be.

“I’m sorry if I was a jerk to you at all.”

Your wry smile turns soft and genuine.

“You weren't, but you're right. My dad’s job definitely didn't make me popular. Everyone assumed I was a narc. Even the people on the track team with me.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, “I remember that being said.”

“Can I ask you a dumb question without you laughing at how dumb it is?” You nudge his sneaker with your own.

He puts on a serious face and gives you a dutiful nod.

“Ask away.”

“Is this a date?”

Steve immediately starts to laugh. You hit him in the chest.

“You said you wouldn't laugh,” you whine.

“I said I wouldn't laugh at how dumb it is. I’m laughing at how cute it is,” he informs you with a smile.

You can feel the flames lick across your skin as his words heat you up. You take a sip of your own chocolate milkshake to cool down.

“So, what’s the verdict, Harrington?” You cut right to the chase.

Steve chuckles some more.

“I’m really seeing the Hopper genes,” he teases.

“Shut up.”

“No, no, really, I do. I can see them riiight,” Steve reaches across and brushes his cold thumb over your lips, “here.”

His hand cradles your jaw as his thumb continues brushing the cool soft skin of your lips. His fingers are so icy from holding his milkshake that you shiver.

“You stare at my dad’s mouth a lot?” You breathe teasingly.

Both of you regard each other with hooded eyelids.

“He smokes a lot of cigarettes,” Steve shrugs, “It draws the eye.”

You’re in the middle of laughing when his lips capture yours. The kiss is sweet, tender, and chaste. Steve’s hand slides to tangle his thick fingers in your hair. He puts his milkshake down next to him to free his other hand. His newly liberated hand cups your jaw as he deepens the kiss. Your heart races in your stomach as you get a taste of Steve Harrington on the hood of his beemer. When you pull back you're both breathing heavier than before. Wide smiles spread across both of your flushed faces.

“So, is it a date or not?” You jokingly ask with furrowed brows.

Steve laughs and you can't help but laugh along. It feels good to laugh with Steve. It feels right. Your laughs mingle like they were always meant to be heard together. When you finish your milkshakes Steve brings you home. Once again, your dad is on the porch smoking. No doubt he’s waiting to see if you abide by your promise to be home before dinner.

“Is it just me or is he trying to melt me with his eyes?” Steve smiles and waves at your dad through the windshield as he asks.

Your dad gives him a nod of acknowledgment. You roll your eyes at your dad’s standoffishness.

“Don't take it personally, he does it to everyone.”

“Noted.”

“I had a lot of fun with you today,” you smile.

Steve grins at you, so tempted to kiss you but conscious of your father’s eyes on him.

“Me too. Y’know- uh- Robin and I do these movie nights every week. Would you maybe wanna crash the next one? I know she wouldn't mind and I wouldn't mind spending more time with you,” Steve’s hand subtly moves to brush your thigh under the cover of the dashboard.

“You’re positive Robin won't mind me being there?”

“Absolutely.”

You find yourself smiling and nodding before putting much more thought into it. All your little pleasure-seeking rat brain heard was more time with Steve.

“Then I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll give you a call tomorrow with the details.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” You say, wishing you could kiss him.

Then you slide out of the car. Steve doesn't pull out until you hit the two porch stairs. Your dad watches him leave before turning to you.

“You and Harrington normally hang out alone?” He asks.

“What's the big deal?”

“Just didn't realize you two were that close.”

“Yeah, well, fighting otherworldly creatures of the night with someone tends to strengthen a friendship,” you drawl sarcastically.

“Isn't he friends with your friend with the tuba?”

“I know you know who Robin is and what instrument she plays,” you roll your eyes playfully, “and yes he is.”

“What about them, there something going on there?”

“No,” you snort, “definitely not. Why are you so interested in Steve’s dating life?”

“I’m your father. I’m just looking out for you. I've caught Harrington in the back of that beemer enough times to know what his dating life is like,” he explains gruffly and takes a drag of his cigarette.

The thought of your dad tapping on the steamed-up window of Steve’s car with the butt of his flashlight puts a bad taste in your mouth. It makes you miss the sweet taste of Steve.

“You don't think it's possible for people to change?” you question, trying not to sound too defensive.

Your dad huffs a laugh and puts out his cigarette.

“Guys like him don't change, trust me,” he tells you.

Anger starts to prick at your skin. You can't fight him, though. It wouldn't change his mind anyways.

“Well, I’m going to his house for a movie night with Robin this week,” you inform him.

He seems to physically relax when he hears Robin will be with you. It fills you with a strange sense of dread. You thought your dad liked Steve. You didn't think he’d have an issue with Steve or his dating life. Anxiety starts to creep in. What if your dad chases Steve away? For once, you care if the person you're seeing is scared off.

“Look,” your dad rubs his jaw as he collects his thoughts, “Steve is a decent guy. I know he’s good looking and I’m sure there are rumors about- about- his virility-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you cut him off sharply, “What’s the point you're even trying to make?”

“Just stay away from him like that. It's fine you're friends, but keep it there. You’ll only end up hurt,” he tells you.

Well, that certainly isn't what you expected. A dense ball of anger, sadness, hurt, and defensiveness sits in your gut. If you don't get away soon you’re sure you’ll blow one way or another.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay away from Steve,” you lie.

There's no chance in Hell.

Robin’s eyes are wide as saucers as you tell her about your dad’s Anti-Steve sentiments. You lay across her bed as she sways herself to and fro on her desk chair. Her room is as scattered and cluttered as her mind is, but that’s what you love about it. It’s like living in one of Robin’s thoughts. “He seriously told you to stay away from him?” She questions incredulously.

“Sure did. God, he’s so dramatic. I don't get why he's so against it. I mean, sure Steve has been known to… get around, but that was high school. He hasn't even been able to score a date in like a year,” you vent.

“What are you going to do?” Robin's eyebrows knit.

She was admittedly ecstatic when Steve told her he wanted to ask you out. She was even more ecstatic when you told her you may have a tiny crush on Steve. You swore up and down it was the sailor shorts that did it, but you both know better. It's clear when you and Steve are around each other. You gravitate toward one another without thought, slowly growing closer and talking more until it's like you're the only two in existence.

“I’m not going to stop seeing Steve,” you shake your head, “I mean we've only been on one date and he hasn't even asked me on a second one yet-”

“Nope, don't even go there,” Robin cuts you off.

“What? I’m just saying-”

“You’re about to convince yourself that Steve doesn't really like you. I’m not letting it happen.”

You pout dramatically at her. There's no time to try to argue or push back playfully. Steve honks from the driveway three times to signal his arrival. A grin spreads across your face as you shoot up and start heading down. Robin shakes her head as she breathes a laugh.

Steve is standing with his arm propped on the top of the open driver-side door. He smiles wide at you as you emerge from the house. You stroll right up to him allowing the door to act as a physical barrier. Before you can say anything, Steve ducks down and plants a quick kiss on your lips. You’re suddenly boiling. He smiles sweetly when he pulls away.

“Hey, there,” he murmurs.

“Hey,” you murmur back.

“Okay, if this is how it's going to be all night, I change my mind,” Robin complains from behind you.

You poke your tongue out at her teasingly causing her to chuckle. Instinctively, you start going for the backseat because Robin is here. The moment you start in that direction you’re stopped.

“Ah-Ah-Ah- Since you and Steve are officially sucking face now it only seems right you take shotgun,” Robin puts her hands up to insist.

The smile that starts to spread on your face dies.

“Thanks, Rob, but I probably shouldn't. My dad is on duty today and if he sees that I’m suddenly the one sitting in the front…,” you trail off with a sigh.

“What's the big deal if he sees you sitting in the front?” Steve asks with furrowed brows.

You glance at Steve anxiously and then at Robin. Both of you look back at Steve.

“My dad may be against the idea of us dating and he might have told me to stay away from you in any romantic sense,” you tell him.

Steve frowns with searching eyes. He reminds you of a cartoon puppy.

“I thought he liked me,” he says.

“He does! He just…,” you start, but struggle.

“He thinks you're a whore,” Robin chimes in.

“Robin,” you hiss and shoot her a glare.

She mouths a sheepish sorry. You sigh and look at Steve’s hurt expression once more.

“He just doesn't want me to get hurt. It doesn't change anything. All this means is we have to keep it down low until we can change his mind,” you assure him.

He nods but doesn't look convinced.

“Guess that means a sleepover tonight is off the table?” he checks half hopeful.

“My curfew is graciously at eleven,” you smile sadly.

“Curfew? You’re an adult,” Robin scoffs.

“An adult who doesn't have a key for the new house yet. My dad said if I’m not home by then the door will be locked.”

“What's the big deal if the door is locked if you have somewhere to stay?” Robin pushes.

“Look- I don't have an explanation for everything, okay? I know my dad is really strict and it’s kind of pathetic because I’m too old for it. It’s more complicated than it looks. If that's something you don't want to deal with o-or-” you start a slightly panicked ramble.

“Whoa- no one is saying that,” Steve reaches out and places warm hands on your upper arms.

The contact grounds you. You nod, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I upset you. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes and I-” Robin starts an anxious apology.

“It’s okay, Rob. I know,” you offer a small smile.

You all clamber into Steve’s car after that. You place yourself in the middle of the backseat. Steve’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror every few minutes. Each time you felt the corners of your lips twitch and your cheeks warm. Something about Steve makes you feel like you're in middle school again trying to figure out how to act around the person you like-like.

In the end, you're glad you chose the back. Around half way to Steve’s house, you see the truck. Your dad is camped out on a pull-off, normal for a cop scouting for speeding tickets. Not normal for the Hawkins Police Chief, though. You groan when you realize he planted himself where he knew Steve would likely drive by. His eyes scan the car as Steve drives by. Steve very pointedly drives the speed limit. You avoid his eyes entirely.

“You said your curfew is at eleven?” Steve double-checks, meeting your eyes once more in the mirror.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod.

“Got it,” he nods resolutely.

It's safe to say he’s determined to get you home on time after the look Hopper just gave him. Steve kind of wishes he didn't look over in the first place. The moment he noticed the chief’s truck he should have kept his eyes forward like he didn't see a thing. Likely the worst part about the whole thing is how blatant it was. Hopper wanted Steve to know that he was watching, to be careful, and tread lightly. It’s a message he heard loud and clear. Steve won’t give Hopper any more reasons not to like him.

They make it to Steve’s without incident. Hopper thankfully doesn't follow them, but Steve makes sure to abide by every traffic law anyways. He wouldn't doubt Hopper has eyes everywhere. Plus, he’s seen the man in action and he'd like to not be on the other end of that.

“Steve,” Robin groans when she sees the VHS on his coffee table, “Why did you have to pick that one?”

“What? I like that movie,” he defends, face beginning to glow.

Your own face catches fire when you read the cover. A couple of months ago you and Steve had a break at the same time. You spent the entire thirty minutes at a food court table talking about movies. At some point you let it slip that your favorite has recently become The NeverEnding Story. The very film that sits on the coffee table now. You send Steve a shy smile that he catches.

“Fine, it’s your week to pick,” Robin sighs with a dramatic eye roll.

It doesn't surprise anyone but you when Steve takes your hand to lead you to the end of his plush couch. He sits and pulls you down with him so his arm is automatically over your shoulder. Robin shakes her head playfully with a smirk. She sits on the other end of the couch so she can stretch out like a cat. Her feet and yours barely miss each other as you curl into Steve.

A quarter of the way through Robin is knocked out cold. The way her arms flop over her face makes you chuckle. Steve breathes a laugh and shakes his head at her.

“She's unbelievable. She does this every week,” he tries to sound exasperated but fails.

“Sounds pretty believable if it happens every week,” you say.

“At least now that you’re going to be here I won't be left to finish the movies alone,” he comments somewhat absentmindedly.

Your eyes widen.

“Now that I’m going to be here?” You echo.

Steve’s bright brown eyes quickly move away. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “Y’know, if- if you'd want to. We could make this a regular thing.”

Your face breaks into a large toothy grin. Steve’s face starts to mirror yours as he registers your reaction.

“That sounds like fun. As long as you’re sure my dad hasn't spooked you,” you joke half-heartedly.

“You kidding? After I took a bat to a Demogorgon right in front of you, you don't think I can handle your dad being a little protective?” Steve scoffs playfully.

“A little?” You question with a smirk.

“Okay, a lot protective,” He concedes with a dramatic little shake of his head.

You watch the front of his soft-looking hair bounce with the movement. It strikes you how pretty he is in the dull glow of the television. You find it a little unfair how pretty he is in every setting. As nerves settle in you look back to the television.

“Are you sure you don't mind?” You ask more seriously, “I know it’s a lot to deal with. I get it if you'd rather just stay friends.”

Steve brings his hand up. His finger crooks and finds the underneath of your chin. He uses it to guide your face to look at him. When your wide eyes meet his intense ones he doesn't stop guiding you. He meets you halfway, stealing a sweet gentle kiss. Butterflies flutter around your gut as his tender lips move against yours. It’s over far too soon, but he keeps his forehead on yours.

“I like you too much to just stay friends. I’m okay doing whatever it takes to be with you,” he states firmly like it's a fact.

Another smile crawls onto your face.

“I’m really glad you said that because I like you too much to just stay friends too,” you tell him softly.

He grins as his hooded eyes look into yours. This close in the dark they look so deep, his pupil and irises still fully distinguishable but the color is clearly rich. Rich in a way that gets lost in the low lighting.

“When can I take you out again?” he asks quietly.

“We probably can't do anything romantic too publicly, but it wouldn't be too hard for me to sneak out at night,” you say innocently.

“Won't your dad kill you if he finds out?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

From this close, you only know that because you can feel him do it.

“Well- yeah, but I have the benefit of something you, unfortunately, don't, my dear Steve,” you tease.

“And what’s that?”

“Siblings.”

“How does that help?”

You chuckle.

“They’ll cover for me if I need it in a pinch,” you explain.

Steve’s smile returns.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” he asks, trying to make it sound enough like a joke to pass it off as one if need be.

He’s terrified of coming on too strong. It’s just that when Steve likes someone he does it with his whole chest. He loves emphatically and that's not for everyone. Although, no one is talking about love right now. Definitely not, that would be far too soon. Steve fancies himself a pretty intuitive guy, though. He can feel the potential there. A seed in need of watering and tending until it blooms into something beautiful.

“Tomorrow’s not soon enough,” you answer, “but it’ll have to do.”

You wake Robin up when the credits roll on the screen. She’s a little moody about it but gets over it quickly. It’s half past ten so Steve brings Robin home first. With her out of the car you move to the front. The entire way back to your house Steve’s hand rests on your thigh, heavy and warm. When the house comes into view it slinks away leaving your skin to miss it.

It doesn't surprise you in the slightest to see your dad on the porch smoking. You roll your eyes at the sight, not caring if he can see. The clock in Steve's car reads a quarter to eleven. Steve got you home with fifteen minutes to spare.

“Is ten too late for tomorrow?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

What if he wasn't being serious about tomorrow? The insecurity gets you talking again.

“My dad has night duty, but he’ll think I’m in bed so there's no reason for him to leave the station,” you explain quickly.

Steve is nodding before you finish.

“Ten sounds perfect. Should I park down the street?”

“Yeah, near the end by the sign,” you confirm.

“It’s a date,” he grins.

Your face catches fire for the millionth time tonight. You're grateful it's too dark for your dad to tell from the porch.

“Have a good night,” you tell him softly.

You resist the urge to kiss him. You resist the urge to even just hug him knowing you have an audience.

“Have a good night.”

When you slip from the beemer a sigh escapes your lips. You wish your dad wasn't so… Well, your dad. The thing is, you also know him. It’s hard and takes time, but you can change his mind. Maybe you can even recruit Joyce in the effort, speed up the process. You'll have to ask Jonathan and Will if they think she’d help or just tell your dad about you and Steve.

“You have a good night?” Your dad asks as he puts out his cigarette.

“Yeah, it was fun. Actually, they invited me to do it every week,” you answer happily.

He nods as you two head inside.

“And Harrington will be driving you every week?” He asks.

“Yes, unless you’re going to magically pull a car from somewhere,” you answer.

He shoots you a deadpan look.

“Alright. Don't forget, I have night duty tomorrow,” he reminds you.

“I know, dad. Don't worry, I plan on coming home right after work anyways. I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” you tell him.

You ignore the tiny seed of guilt that drops in your stomach. You don't like lying to your dad, but he doesn't leave you much choice. A sturdy hand finds the back of your head. He pulls your head forward and plants a slightly too-rough kiss on your forehead. It's gruff, prickly, and warm just like him. For a second you feel like a kid again, before everything went to shit.

“Sleep tight,” he tells you.

“Sleep tight,” you smile tightly.

Jonathan is awake reading and listening to music on his walkman. The movement of you coming in draws his attention. He pulls down his headphones until they rest around his neck. Slow rock leaks from the speakers.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hey, I’m glad you're up. I actually have a pretty big favor to ask,” you say.

He regards you suspiciously. The two of you aren't close by any means. It took weeks to have a civil conversation when you're in the bedroom together. There was a territorial showdown that nearly tore the house apart.

“What is it?” He questions slowly.

“I’m going to sneak out tomorrow night after my dad goes to work. I just need you to leave the window cracked so I can get back in and to make sure no one knows I’m gone,” you say.

“Oh, is that all?” He scoffs, “No way. I’m not getting murdered when your dad finds out you snuck out.”

“He won't find out. Please, Jonathan, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important to me,” you all but beg.

His eyes narrow on you as you sit on your bed.

“What are you sneaking out for?”

“I’m seeing Steve.”

He snorts humorlessly.

“So, you want to die,” he says mostly to himself.

Realizing this isn't going your way, you set your jaw and straighten out your shoulders. You sigh and click your tongue.

“Y’know, it's a shame…,” you begin absently.

“What is?” He takes the bait.

“How long you're going to be grounded when I tell my dad and Joyce about the stash under your bed,” you shrug.

If looks could kill, you’d most definitely be dead.

“How do you-”

“You’re really not as subtle as you think,” you laugh.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Fine,” he snaps.

The headphones are back over his ears in a second.

“Thank you,” you sing.

That night you curl into bed buzzing with anticipation. Steve doesn't care if it's a little hard to be with you. He doesn't care if your dad is difficult and overprotective. He likes you enough to try anyway. You only hope you can change your dad’s mind about him before his patience runs out.

Jonathan is bitter about you sneaking out, but you don't care. Everyone is home for dinner, making it a raucous affair of arms reaching over the table to fight for food even though there's more than enough to go around. You swear Jonathan starts fighting with you over the last drumstick just to get back at you for your blackmail.

“You’ve already had three,” he protests.

“So have you!” you shout back incredulously, gesturing wildly.

“Yeah, but I eat more.”

“Really? Why is that?” You challenge him cruelly.

He glares at you, seething from across the table.

“You’re such a-” he starts.

“Alright,” your dad loudly interrupts and snatches the drumstick off the plate, “Now it’s mine. Problem solved.”

Both of you grumble and sink back into your seats like a couple of children. Will and El, the actual children at the table, exchange amused looks as they fight off laughter.

“How has work been?” Joyce asks you pleasantly.

She’s completely unphased by your dad’s tantrum in response to your own. You suppose she's probably used to the Hopper family antics at this point.

“It’s been fine,” you shrug, “there's a supervisor position opening up. I was thinking of going for it.”

“That’s great!” Joyce beams.

It makes you feel warm in your chest.

“Supervisor? Won't that put you full-time? What about college? I thought you were starting next semester,” your dad grills.

It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you succeed.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of extending my gap year,” you shrug like it isn't a big deal.

Joyce cringes a little but attempts to maintain her smile. Jonathan, Will, and El all look between you and your dad.

“Really? When did you decide that?” Your dad questions.

“Does it really matter? It’s what I want to do,” you defend.

“Is this because Steve isn't going to college?” He’s outright interrogating you at the dinner table now.

“Jim,” Joyce warns softly.

He looks at her with an incredulous smile.

“What?”

She tucks her chin in a tad and gives him a look.

“For your information, no it's not because of Steve,” you snap, “I don't even know his plans for the fall. What’s your issue with him?”

“Nothing!”

“No, clearly there's something! You have such a weird thing about me and Steve. Why are you so afraid of me being friends or getting into a relationship with him?” You demand.

“Because I've seen what it looks like when a Harrington loves someone,” he shouts, “It’s usually black and blue!”

Anger rises hot and red to your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest. The air around the table is so tense it's hard to move.

“You’re unbelievable,” you shout back and shove away from the table.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To bed. Have a good night at work,” you slam your bedroom door shut behind you.

“Jim,” Joyce sighs.

“What?” He asks defensively.

“Steve really isn't that bad,” Will comments gently, “He’s friends with Dustin.”

“I think Steve is a fine guy,” Hopper states, “But I've seen the kind of relationships he grew up around.”

“That doesn't mean Steve is anything like John,” Joyce reasons.

Hopper’s jaw flexes as he clenches.

“Yeah, well, I’m not willing to take the chance,” he answers gruffly.

Jonathan is the one that gets the conversation moving forward. They try to enjoy the rest of their dinner while Hopper seeths and you blast music from your bedroom. Thirty minutes later Jonathan comes in and shuts off your stereo.

“Hopper and mom went to work,” he informs you.

“Thanks,” you sigh.

You can feel Jonathan’s eyes on you as you collect your things.

“What?” you ask shortly, not stopping.

“Nothing,” he quickly snaps before relaxing a little, “Mom tried talking to him after.”

“Yeah?” You snort humorlessly, “What’d she say?”

“She was on your side. Told him you don't have to go to college if you don't want to.”

You reply with a simple hm.

“When will you be back?” he sighs.

“Around midnight.”

“Okay- just… be safe.”

You turn with everything you need in your pockets. Your eyebrows are nearly in your hairline as you take in Jonathan. He sits on his bed, hands in his lap. His hair has gotten long and shaggy in a way that makes you want to cut it.

“Careful, I might think you care about me,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes.

“You might be annoying, but you’re family,” he says.

A small smile creeps onto your lips. You give him a playful punch in the upper arm. He rubs it and makes a disgruntled face at you.

“Love you too, bro.”

You nearly eat dirt on your way out of the window, but you make it unscathed. With a wide smile, you trot down the street where you see Steve’s beemer waiting beneath a streetlamp. The door is unlocked when you get there allowing you to slip in easily. Steve’s lips are on yours before you can say hi. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips urgently to yours.

You’re downright giggling when he pulls away. It's embarrassing.

“Hello to you too,” you murmur.

“Hello,” he murmurs back with a sweet smile.

Steve takes off after that. His hand is on your thigh again. This time you find the courage to intertwine your hand with his. He flashes a smile at you when you do so. Hawkins has never felt so perfect. It's like a scene from a movie as you steal glances at Steve as often as you can.

“Where are you taking me, Harrington?” You ask with teasing suspicion.

“I know this spot by Lovers Lake. Figured we could just hang out,” he shrugs, attempting to hide his insecurity.

“Not enough room for the two of us in that big house of yours?” you chuckle.

His eyes shift uncomfortably.

“My parents are home right now. I’m sorry if you thought-”

“No, no, Steve, it's fine. I was just teasing. As long as we get to spend time together, I don't care where we end up,” you promise.

His soft eyes fall on you as he stops at a sign. Before he could allow himself to fall in too deep too fast, he clears his throat.

“Speaking of parents,” he says and starts driving again, “How’d it go with yours?”

You groan and roll your eyes dramatically.

“I told him I don't plan on going to college. You can imagine how that went,” you tell him.

Steve grimaces as he pulls off onto a dirt road. It’s bumpy, but Steve isn't driving for long. You end up parked on a little overlook of the lake. Moonlight ripples across the surface giving the water the appearance of a night sky below you. Steve’s seat belt is off so he can angle himself to look at you fully. You mirror him. Gentle music trickles from the radio too low for you to really make out what it is.

“I take it he wasn’t too happy with that then?” Steve raises his eyebrows in sympathetic curiosity.

“He doesn’t seem too happy with me in general lately,” you sigh and begin picking at your fingers in your lap.

His hand takes yours to stop the anxious movement. The action draws your gaze. Steve is half frowning, thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your hand.

“He’s just worried. I kinda get it, y’know? You’re his kid and he isn’t ready for you to grow up,” he reasons.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s ready,” you frown, “He was so annoying tonight. I actually left dinner and locked myself in my room.”

Steve leans over and gives your temple a quick comforting kiss.

“My mom asked me how school was today,” Steve huffs a laugh.

You wrinkle your nose.

“How old does she think you are?” You ask.

“Seventeen apparently.”

“Is she always so detached?”

There’s something sad in his puppy dog eyes when they find you. The corners of his lips twitch in a sardonic little gesture.

“Yeah, she’s pretty spaced most of the time,” he answers quietly.

“And here I am complaining that my dad pays too much attention,” you joke.

It earns you a soft chuckle from him.

“At least my mom doesn’t stake out side roads she knows I’ll be driving on,” he teases back.

You throw your head back as you laugh. Steve grins as he watches, drinking in every last detail. His eyes drag over the silhouette of your nose and jawline in the moonlight. You’re so soft, yet there’s a bite about you. It draws him in and leaves him always wanting more, more, more. It leaves him reaching out to brush the hair from your face. Then the hair is tucked away, but he continues to skirt the backs of his fingers over your cheek. He can feel the warmth rise to them. Your face moves into his touch as you turn to look at him.

“Steve?” You probe so quietly that you aren’t sure he hears you.

“Yeah?”

“My dad said something tonight and… I think it might take more than we thought to win him over,” you admit.

Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes searches yours.

“What did he say?”

You take an even breath.

“He’s afraid, because of y-your dad, that you’ll-”

“Stop,” Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Don’t say it.”

You don’t. Instead, you lean over the center console and throw your arms around his shoulders. Steve immediately melts into your embrace, circling his own arms around you and burying his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head the best he can in his current position. Then he’s pulling back, hands holding either side of your head. His eyes bore into you.

“I’m not like my dad. I wouldn't ever do what he does,” he promises.

There's no need to ask what it is Steve’s dad does. You've gathered enough context clues tonight to piece it together. Your hands come up to cover Steve’s.

“I know,” you tell him, “I trust you. You’re a good person, Steve Harrington.”

Steve can feel how lovesick his smile is. Your voice and words are a salve on wounds rubbed raw. You worry your lip between your teeth for a moment before continuing to speak.

“Does your dad ever do that to you?” You inquire softly.

“Not since I started fighting back,” he answers with a sad smile.

“I’m so sorry,” you say because you don't know what else there is to say.

You hate that Steve has had to go through so much and always has it overlooked. You hate that your dad thinks Steve could be anything like this father. All he’s ever been is kind and gentle with you.

“Let’s just forget about everything else tonight,” he suggests with a voice like silk, “There’s just us.”

It's a request you're more than willing to oblige. Especially when Steve’s lips find yours in a fury. It's more heated than anything the two of you have done until now, but it feels so fucking good. Steve’s hands are wide and thick as they tangle in your hair and hold the base of your neck. Your own hands explore Steve’s firm chest and shoulders over his shirt. The two of you together are the flame of a candle, flickering hot and quick.

Steve moans when you nip at his lip, allowing you to become acquainted with his tongue. It’s all so much and not enough. Everything around you is all Steve. There's nothing but Steve. He leans over the console more, hands moving to find your sides and running down them until they meet the hem of your shirt. His hands skirt around the thin layer of skin exposed by your shirt riding up. A shiver of want runs through you. You nod as his mouth continues to devour yours. Steve’s hands leave trails of heat licking up your skin as they commit every inch to memory.

You’re ready to take it further. You want Steve in every way. You want him until he’s all there is. It doesn't matter if you’re in his car out by the lake. All that matters is it's you and Steve and Steve seems to want you just as much. You muster up the courage and start to palm where his pants have grown noticeably tighter.

Just as Steve is moaning into your mouth there’s a clink clink clink on the driver's side window. The two of you fly apart, snapping to see the source of the noise, and then looking back at each other completely panicked.

“C’mon, Steve, the windows aren't that steamed up. I know it's you,” a familiar voice drones.

You groan and drop your face in your hands. The voice itself brings relief, but not a lot. Steve rolls down the window and a flashlight clicks on, blinding both of you.

“Christ- Uncle Phil, can you quit it with that?” Steve complains and shoves the flashlight away.

The light clicks off revealing a curly head of brown hair and a pair of glasses you know all too well.

“Hey, Callahan,” you greet meekly with a small wave.

“No- no,” he groans, briefly throwing his head back with his hands covering his face, “Not Little Hopper! Steve, do you have a death wish?”

“Please, don't tell my dad,” you beg quickly.

Callahan’s eyes slide between the two of you. His tongue is firmly in his cheek as he takes in the sight of his nephew moments away from having sex with his boss’s kid.

“You two are putting me in a real tough position here,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“We know. That’s why we would be super grateful if you didn’t tell Hopper anything,” Steve says.

Callahan levels Steve with a stare for a moment before his eyes move to you. Your heart is thumping at the speed of sound in your chest. It wouldn't be surprising if you dropped dead of a heart attack right now. This man who you’ve known for years, who has watched you at the station and played Uno with you, who has been like family in a lot of ways has your life in his hands. It’s unfair for everyone involved.

“I’ve been fearing the day I find you in someone’s car like this,” he tells you with a wry smile, “If it had to happen, I’m happy it's with Steve. At least I know you’re safe.”

A timid smile tugs at your lips.

“Does that mean you won't tell?” You ask quietly.

He lets out a deep heavy breath and shakes his head.

“I won't say anything,” he points sternly at you, “but it better not get back to your dad that I knew about this.”

You and Steve nod. Steve even gives his uncle a salute.

“So, are you gonna…,” Steve trails off, gesturing with his eyes for his uncle to leave.

“Yeah, right,” Callahan snorts, “You two are going home and brainstorming ways to be more discreet. Separately, no sneaking each other into anyone’s houses.”

Steve rolls his eyes but agrees. He’s in no position to argue with his uncle right now. Callahan pulls out enough for Steve to get you guys out of there. He flashes his lights once as a goodbye. The silence of the car threatens to suffocate you. Steve stops the car the turn before your street. You can feel his eyes on you as you squeeze your hands together in your lap.

“You okay?” He asks softly.

“I’m okay. Are we?” You risk a glance.

The knit of his brow tells you he’s confused, maybe even a little worried.

“Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?”

“I guess I was afraid that might have spooked you,” you shrug sheepishly.

“It’ll take more than my Uncle Phil to spook me,” he smirks.

You chuckle and lean in to steal a quick kiss. He does it back like it's a competition he’s determined to win. You scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him. He returns the favor. The two of you break into giggles. Thoughts that bubbled to the surface this morning, and kept bubbling up every hour after that, make their grand reappearance. Does Steve want to take this to a more serious level like you do? Has he already decided to stop seeing other people like you have?

“I like you, like a lot,” you tell him with all the eloquence of a rock.

“I like you, like a lot, too,” he smiles.

“I have a crazy question that I just thought of right this moment,” you segue with an innocent smile.

“Oh, is that right? What's this totally not premeditated question?” He teases.

“What are we doing here exactly?” It comes out far timider than you’d like.

“What do you want to be doing here exactly?” he smirks knowing you're melting inside as he dances around an answer.

You give him an unimpressed frown that's fighting to be a smile.

“Personally, I think I'd like to call you my boyfriend,” you go for it and try not to hold your breath too much.

Steve’s smile becomes something dazzling. Mischief appears in the background of it, though.

“You think, huh? I dunno,” he sighs dramatically, “I only date people who are enthusiastic about dating me.”

You roll your eyes as the smile wins.

“Oh, is that why you kept striking out at Scoops?” you tease.

He throws a pout your way.

“Maybe.”

“Well, Steve Harrington, I would be pretty enthused to call you my boyfriend,” you tell him with a sweet smile and even sweeter eyes.

“I’d be pretty enthused too,” he grins as he leans toward you.

He kisses you with almost as much passion as before. Pre-Callahan rudely interrupting. The two of you giggle into the kiss, causing you to pull apart but stay close.

“When will I see you again, boyfriend?” you hum.

“I have family stuff tomorrow after work, but my parents will be gone again Thursday. We could hang out at my place. Then movie night is Friday. It’s Rob’s turn to pick,” he answers.

“Five dollars says she picks Fast Times,” you smirk.

“Are you kidding?” he snorts, “I’m not taking a bet I know I’ll lose.”

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. When the giggles subside you bring your head up once more and find Steve’s impossibly warm gaze. He looks at you like you just invented laughter before his very eyes. It’s almost too much for you to handle. It makes you more afraid of losing this, of losing him, to your dad’s strictness.

“My dad will be home Thursday, but I don’t think Robin would mind covering for me for a few hours,” you say.

“Should I get you from Rob’s?”

“That’ll probably be for the best.”

The two of you get stuck, trapped in a trance of gooey gazes and lovesick smiles. Anyone watching would gag at the sight. No one else matters to the two of you right now, though.

“You should get inside before Uncle Phil finds us again,” Steve sighs.

You nod.

Both of you surge forward to steal one last kiss. You don't think you’ll ever tire of the way Steve’s kisses make you feel. It’s like you’re static clinging to a freshly dried sweater, warm and buzzing with energy. Your foreheads stay together when you part. Your lips hover so close you could kiss again by accident.

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs

The pet name brings heat to your cheeks as if there are hot coals beneath your skin. There’s a fluttering in your stomach that makes you shy.

“Goodnight,” you answer just as softly.

You steal the last peck before slipping from his beemer, winning the game for tonight. It's simple enough to get back inside. You round the side of the house to your window. It’s still cracked. You peek in first. Jonathan is listening to music on his walkman as he writes in his notebook.

The window slides up easily. As you climb in, Jonathan shoots up pin-straight, breath noticeably heavier. Once it registers it's you he relaxes and slumps back down. He takes off his headphones.

“I thought you wouldn't be back until midnight,” he says, a hint of annoyance creeping in.

“Callahan caught us and sent us home,” you explain as you shut the window behind you.

“Callahan caught you? Why aren't you more freaked out by this?” He questions, furrowing his brows.

“Because I’ve known him like half my life and he’s Steve’s uncle. He promised not to tell,” you shrug.

“He’s Steve’s uncle?”

“Yeah, on his mom’s side. I saw them around the station a few times,” as you say it you suddenly wonder if they were at the station for another reason that went over your head until now.

“How are you so lucky?” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“I dunno, nepotism?”

Jonathan actually laughs. You ignore the skunky smell and take the win.

“So, when are you doing this again?” he jerks his chin up at you and crosses his arms.

“Thursday, but don't worry. Your services shouldn't be required then,” you answer jovially as you pick out pajamas to change into.

“Wow, four whole days? How will you ever manage?” He drawls.

“Shut up. Steve’s parents are home. He has to do something with them.”

“Oh, that mayor thing probably.”

You pause and turn to look at Jonathan.

“Mayor thing?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “there’s some town award ceremony thing this week. Aren’t you going with your dad?”

“I am,” you nod slowly, “but why would Steve be there?”

Jonathan looks at you like you're stupid. Right now you're inclined to think maybe you are.

“Because his dad owns like half the town and wins at least two things a year,” he answers.

You inhale deeply and slowly, trying not to get too angry at yourself for forgetting. This stupid event that you always try to get out of, but couldn't this year. Your dad is winning something big apparently. That's not to say you're not proud of him, you are. This thing is just dreadfully boring. Steve being there makes things more interesting. More terrifying, sure, but more interesting nonetheless.

“How do you even know all this, weirdo?” You question.

“The school newspaper,” he sneers, “We cover it in the first issue.”

“Whatever, I’m going to get changed,” you grumble and leave the room.

The bathroom gives you the first moment alone to process everything tonight. When you catch your reflection in the mirror it's a little flushed, a little frazzled, but happy. Built-up energy comes out in the form of a little squeak and dance. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend! Now, all you have to do is find a way to guarantee your dad won't kill him for it.

You and your dad fuss uncomfortably with the fancy clothes you've been out in. Joyce worries about all the finer details around you, swatting away your hands when one of you goes to pull on your collar or loosen a button. You have to admit, the Hoppers clean up well. They just hate getting cleaned up. It’s like giving a cat a bath.

“Oh, look at the two of you,” Joyce gushes, “We need to get pictures!”

Both you and your dad start to protest, but it's to no avail. She's already calling for Jonathan and his camera. He wears a smug smirk at your clear irritation. You shoot him daggers in return.

“At least try to smile,” he tells you and your dad.

You look at each other. You have to look upward to meet his eyes. One thing you didn't inherit from your dad is his height. A look of resigned agreement passes between you before you’re smiling at the camera. Jonathan takes a quick succession of photos and you're allowed to leave.

It feels funny being all dressed up in the chief's truck. This is the first time you've felt out of place in it.

“So,” your dad starts awkwardly, “About college…”

“Dad,” you sigh and rub your eyes with one hand, “Can we please not do this tonight?”

“I’m not- I’m just-” he pauses and takes a breath to calm down before trying again, “What I’m trying to say is, if this supervisor thing is what you wanna do… Then do it.”

You watch him drive with wide eyes.

“Really?”

He nods.

“Yeah, really.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your hazard to ask.

“Don't get me wrong,” he waves a hand around, “I still want you to go to school and get an education, but… I want you to be happy more.”

His words cause a bright light of hope to flicker on in your chest. A small smile sprouts on your face. With a steadying breath to muster up the courage you take the dive.

“I’m really glad you said that beca-” You start.

“God damn it,” your dad’s frustration cuts you off, “Harrington is already here.”

Your eyes snap forward. Sure enough, ahead of you in a rounded driveway is a shiny sleek black car. The apex of the driveway meets the front of a local event hall that’s been decorated to the nines. No doubt thanks to all that Harrington money. There are valets waiting to take everyone’s cars.

Out of the car comes a well-groomed polished man in a suit. His hair is a short chestnut coif and he has dangerously green eyes that feel perpetually sharp. From the other side appears a woman with an elegant red dress. Her own dark hair is up in a fashionably loose bun. They don't smile at each other. In fact, they barely regard each other at all. They immediately jump into talking to those around them.

Then he climbs out of the back. Steve is in a sharp black suit of his own and his brown hair has been perfectly blown out. His smile is unnaturally tight. It takes a massive amount of restraint to not fling your door open and run to him.

“Can you just be civil for tonight?” You sigh.

“I’m civil,” your dad argues lightly.

“Is that so? Then you won't mind me hanging out with Steve tonight,” you say knowingly.

Your dad’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. A ball of disappointment drops in your stomach. Any hope has been extinguished. Clearly, him caring about your happiness the most doesn't extend to Steve.

“Probably best to stay away while his old man is around,” he advises cryptically.

“Why? Steve isn't his dad,” you snap without meaning to.

“Maybe not, but he’s always worse when he’s around. Callahan caught him with someone last night, y’know. I told you, guys like him don't change,” he half lectures.

You look out your window as your face catches fire.

“Whatever, Steve is my friend and I don't want to argue about it tonight,” you state.

Your dad sighs but doesn't carry it any further. He doesn't want to argue about it tonight either apparently. Steve disappears into the venue leaving you to watch after him. After a short wait, you finally get to the top of the curve and climb out of the car.

“Hey, Chief,” the kid working valet greets.

The chief truck stays in front of the building, but off to the side. Just in case some world-ending call comes in. Half the town is here and the other half wants to be. It's a nice excuse to dress up, have a few drinks, and eat a free meal. You’re most excited to steal looks at Steve.

When you enter it's a grand room with circular tables arranged around a stage at the front. The back of the room has an extravagant bar where most people are mingling right now. The decorations are simple yet tasteful. The mayor, a young man the town elected to save them from all the crazy shit Hawkins seems to attract, shakes hands with his constituents around the room.

Some councilman starts talking to your dad. You’re introduced briefly then you’re just stuck standing there. This is the part you hate about these things. Just waiting around as your dad falls in and out of conversations. Bored, your eyes scan the room searching before you know it.

Sticky sweet eyes, molten light brown that you know has green hidden near the middle like caramel apples, catch you from near the bar. Steve’s entire being brightens when he realizes you’re there. He smiles and sends you a discreet little wave. He’s so pretty it makes your teeth ache. You return both the smile and wave, already calculating how you can sneak off to say hello.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you say.

Your dad nods as the councilman continues talking his ear off. Whatever they're talking about, your dad doesn't seem especially interested. With him distracted, you easily make your way to the bar. You take care to stick to the opposite end as the Harringtons, but Steve’s eyes have already found you. He excuses himself and waves through all of Hawkins’ finest residents. The bartender comes up to where you're leaning on the bar with your forearms.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“Just a sprite, thanks,” you smile.

“Make that two,” Steve’s voice comes from behind you.

A wide grin spreads across your face as you turn around. You’re met with an expression similar to your own.

“Why, Mr. Harrington, funny running into you here,” you muse.

“Mm, I’m considering it lucky. You look amazing,” he tells you as his eyes trail up and down your form.

“You look exceptionally handsome yourself.”

“I didn't know you’d be here,” he comments, still drinking you in.

Your face warms under his eyes.

“Normally I wouldn't, but I didn't have anything to get me out of it this year. What table are you guys at? We’re over at four,” you point at a round table near the front.

“We’re at one,” he points to a few tables away.

“Good, I think my dad would burst a blood vessel if he had to sit near yours tonight,” you attempt to keep it light, but the weight is still present.

“He won't burst one when he sees you over here talking to me?” he teases, helping to carry the load.

“Eh, he’ll survive,” you wave him off.

“Sprites,” the bartender announces as he places the two glasses on the bar top.

You reach for your wallet, but Steve’s hand catches your wrist.

“Put it on the Harrington tab, thanks,” he says.

The bartender nods and walks off. Steve’s hand stays on your wrist.

“So, there’s a coat check over in the entrance hall…,” you trail off suggestively, glancing to the doorway to the entrance hall.

Steve’s eyes follow yours and a smirk grows on his lips. His lips you wish you could kiss right in the middle of this stupid event.

“Meet you in twenty-” he begins to plan.

“Steve, there you are,” a deep voice sighs.

Steve goes stiff, straightening until he’s ramrod straight. Your eyes widen as they move to the man over Steve’s shoulder. Steve turns around, clenching his Sprite a little tighter than before.

“Sorry, sir, I came to grab a drink and ran into a friend,” he says, but his voice is different.

He’s different. His hands move less, barely at all. The inflection of his voice is more proper, professional almost. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the back of his head.

“Who is this friend?” His father asks, sounding tired.

“We work at the mall together,” Steve explains.

“Right, the mall,” his father states disdainfully.

“Steve is a really good worker,” you pipe in, attempting to back Steve up.

Both men’s eyes turn to you. Steve’s are soft and tender, but the gentleness of them is cut through by the sharpness of his father’s. His father sizes you up, but it's unlike anything you've experienced. You don't feel like he's looking at you, but all the price tags attached to the things you own and wear. It's as if his eyes are calculating your value. You feel like a burger from Benny’s compared to Steve’s fine dining at Enzo’s.

“And who is it you belong to?” he questions with narrowed eyes.

“Oh- uh-” you stutter.

“John,” your dad’s curt voice saves you.

All eyes go to your dad.

“Jim.”

He stands taller than John Harrington and thicker. His eyes are stony and his mouth is set. The two men hold each other’s gaze like dogs readying for the other to launch. Your dad’s eyes soften when they land on you behind the Harrington men. They create a wall between you. A wall you desperately want your dad to break through. This situation has gotten itchy and uncomfortable very fast.

“You okay?” he checks.

“Yeah, I just ran into Steve while getting my drink,” you answer with a small smile, holding up the drink in question.

Your dad nods, resetting his jaw. His eyes fall on Steve. Steve who, to his credit, is trying to convey as apologetic a look as he can get away with in front of his own father. He tries to communicate that he doesn't want you around John Harrington anymore than your dad does. You aren't sure it works.

“It’s good to see you, Chief,” Steve smiles tightly.

“Yeah, you too,” your dad replies unconvincingly.

“So, how've you been, Jim? How’s- uh- Diane, is it?” John inquires.

Now it’s your turn to go completely stiff. The mention of your mother sends your heart racing and your stomach plummeting. You look at your dad, panicked and worried. Steve catches the shift. Your dad has gone completely cold. He glares at John, jaw flexing as he restrains himself. There’s no way John doesn't know… right? It feels like everyone in Hawkins knows the tragedy of the Hoppers. A tragedy that split them up and sent half of them back home to Hawkins.

“Fine,” your dad answers short and hot before looking at you, “Let’s go find our table.”

You don't argue. You don't even speak. You simply nod and shoot Steve a shy smile as you shuffle past him. John Harrington’s eyes are heavy on you, but you don't acknowledge them. Your dad casts a solid arm over your shoulder, sheltering you from the Harrington men. Then he’s ushering you away. The only noise comes from the people around you blissfully unaware of the tension stretching between the Hoppers and the Harringtons. Little cards on the table with your names on them aren't hard to find. The two of you take your seats.

“Dad,” you start quietly, “I’m really sorry.”

Your dad fixes you with a tired smile.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You were just saying hi to a friend, right?” He raises his eyebrows slightly.

You have to swallow the lump of guilt in your throat before responding.

“Right,” you nod, “His dad came over right when we got our drinks.”

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. The gesture skews some of his mustache hair.

“Look, if you’re going to be friends with Steve, fine,” he says evenly, “But I don't want you anywhere near John Harrington.”

“Okay,” you agree without hesitation.

Your dad smiles warmly at you. The trust he casts over you only makes your skin crawl. Are you the worst kid in the world? It’s starting to feel that way.

“I’m sorry he mentioned mom,” you attempt to assuage some of your guilt.

“Don't be,” he sighs, “He knew what he was doing.”

A beat of silence passes over you. Anxiously, you sip your drink.

“I… I haven't talked to her, y’know. Since she…,” you can't finish the thought.

“You should,” he tells you, “You should call her soon.”

You furrow your brows at him. That wasn't what you had been expecting from him.

“Why?”

“Because she’s your mother. I’m sure she would like to hear from you.”

A short puff of air exits your nose as you cross your arms.

“She’s someone else’s mother too now. I’m sure she’s busy,” you answer bitterly.

Your dad sighs once more, running a hand down his face again.

“You can't stay mad at her forever,” he reasons.

“But you can?”

“That's different we’re- She’s your mother. It’s different.”

“She was my mother. You two aren't the only ones who lost someone. You aren't the only ones that get to be mad at each other for everything. I was there too, I experienced it too,” you snap quietly enough to only be heard by him.

His features soften at that. He nods solemnly. His heavy hand clamps comfortingly on your shoulder with a squeeze before retreating back to the table.

“Are you doing that movie night thing with Steve and your tuba friend?” he asks.

You chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Robin and I will be going to Steve’s on Friday, yes. His parents will be gone again by then. He wouldn't have us over otherwise,” you reply.

“Good.”

“He was trying to keep me from him,” you tell him, picking at a spot on the white tablecloth.

“Good,” he echoes.

“Does that mean you’re going to stop being so crazy about me and him?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

His mouth flattens into a line.

“I’m okay with you being friends, but there are rules,” he lifts a finger to start listing, “One, no hanging out alone unless it's in public. Two, you don’t go there if his parents are home. Three, he only comes over when I’m home.”

“Anything else?” You half-joke.

He levels you with a serious look.

“Just… Be honest with me. I just want to know you're safe.”

If you didn't know any better you’d think the whole world is crashing around you. Fuck, you feel god awful. Your dad’s voice mixes with the ghost of Callahan’s in your head. At least I know you’re safe, Callahan had said when finding you with Steve. I just want to know you’re safe. You force a smile that you hope is convincing.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, “There aren't any secrets between us.”

He smiles, the corners of his mustache lifting up in the way they do when it's really genuine. He gives you a loving shoulder squeeze. You struggle to hold back your nausea. There aren't any secrets between us. Maybe at one time that was true, but certainly not anymore.

Rule One >>

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #hopper!reader #stranger things fic

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boul3vvard · 2 years

Text

wish you were here

Rengoku x Fem reader

(One shot) - angst/ fluff ig

☆ Synopsis: y/n struggles with the acceptance of death

☆ warning(s): canon character death , mentions of depression etc. reader is a women so there is usage of fem pronoun’s

☆y/n = your name

☆words: 1000+

☆notes: proofread enough also might be punctuation errors I’m tired y’all some characters who speak more are color coded💀

You were heading out on a mission, getting the things you needed to pack up before your departure. you were going to make your way through the woods when you saw a boy walking towards you in the distance. "hey Tanjiro" you shouted running up to him. He looked up at you with a saddened look "is everything okay?" "y/n" he looked down at his feet. "tanjiro hey, is everything alright" she put her hands on his shoulders "Rengoku-" "what? What's wrong with Kyo" "Tanjiro please" y/n asked hurriedly as anxiety started to creep up her spine "Rengoku's gone" y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing it felt like the entire world stopped and swallowed her whole. "tha- that cant be he promised me he'd be back" "this can't be possible where is he?" "y/n" she looked into the boy's eyes not seeing a hint of lies". y/n started to choke on her tears. tanjiro hugged the girl wishing she could feel the sorrow and apologies through it. he felt horrible having to be the one to rely upon such news. he could smell how deeply in love they were with each other both scents being identical. "here. He wanted me to give you this" she unwrapped the cloth. Inside was his sword's guard. y/n fell to her knees and hugged the guard tightly. "oh Kyojuro what am I gonna do"

After her mission y/n decided it was best to get her mind off of his death so she tried to avoid it. spending most of her time at Mitsuri's estate. "how about we decorate some cookies" "y/n" "OOO or we could make those western-style desserts I know how much you like sweets we could make all of your favorites." "y/n" "or maybe we coul-" "Y/N!!!" "hmm?" y/n froze in her tracks she didn't expect Mitsuri to raise her voice like that. she never took her as the serious type. "y/n I'm so sorry I just needed to get your attention" "oh, what's wrong?" sitting down patting the seat right next to her, Mitsuri sat down. "don't you think you should at least talk to someone about it" Mitsuri knew that y/n had been avoiding her emotions since Rengoku's passing. "talk about what?" y/n said with a fake smile "you know...Rengoku" "there's nothing to talk about" "come on y/n you know you have people who are willing to listen, we are here for you. you can't keep lying to yourself, the pain is not gonna go away if you keep avoiding it.” "you just don't understand” "WELL THEN HELP ME UNDERSTAND PLEASE I WANT TO HELP," Mitsuri said with her arms in the air. y/n stared at the girl before speaking "it's just- i-" y/n felt her tears beginning to pool at her eyes. "you can take your time" "IT FEELS LIKE- IT FEELS LIKE MY HEART IS GONNA EXPLODE OUT OF MY CHEST IT FEELS LIKE I CAN'T BREATHE, AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AT ALL" y/n sobbed heavily "oh y/n" Mitsuri hugged the girl so tight she was close to crushing her spine "I don't know what to do" she repeated into Mitsuri’s chest. y/n cried for a while. y/n finally got herself together feeling embarrassed about the snot she left on Mitsuri's uniform. "I'm so sorry mitsuri I think I'm gonna head home for the night" "oh, okay I'm right here if you need anything don't be afraid to reach out okay".

y/n isolated herself from everyone she never really left her house unless she had a mission other than that she barricaded herself in her room. on those days it was so hard for her to get out of bed she lost the motivation, she felt lifeless. On some days, she even convinced herself that she had no purpose and that she'd be better off dead. y/n knew it was wrong to believe those things, she knew Rengoku would want her to live her life to the fullest. So why was it so hard? all of y/n's friends grew worried since they have not seen their friend in quite some time, some of them even stopping by to check up on her. "yoo-hoo y/n are you in there?" y/n groaned "go away Shinobu, I don't want to talk to anyone right now" "see I told you it would be a waste of our time if she refuses to open up" Tengen said walking away. "Y/N IF YOU DONT OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW I'LL BREAK IT DOWN" *was that Makio?* y/n thought "y/n please let us in we brought some food," Hina said "oh please don't tell me Shinobu brought a whole entourage with her” y/n facepalmed as she went to open the door a little. "what do you guys want," y/n said stoned face "please let us in I refuse to speak to a door. we just wanted to check up on you since neither of us has seen you in days" Shinobu spoke. "I'm fine. go away" y/n was about to slam the door until Tengen slid his hand in quick enough to stop it. "Gotta be quicker than that" Tengen smirked. y/n rolled her eyes and backed away from the door. Suma immediately ran up to the girl and clung to her tightly "WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH Y/N YOU HAVEN'T STOPPED BY RECENTLY WE WERE SO WORRIED AND SAD" Suma cried into y/n's chest. "STOP THAT" Makio yelled, aggressively prying the girl's arms off y/n. "YOU SEE HOW MEAN SHE IS TO ME TENGEN SAMA" Suma wailed. y/n chuckled at the interaction unraveling in front of her. "see there's that beautiful smile, I knew you still had it in you," Tengen said "so y/n are you ready to talk?" Shinobu said with a smile y/n inhaled deeply tears starting to pool in her eyes at the thought... "yea"

later that evening y/n had felt 10 times lighter having poured her heart out to all of them about how she was holding herself up. Some of them felt a deep pity for her because they know exactly how it felt to lose someone so close to you, someone that completed you. all of them have been in y/n's shoes before. some more times than others. She didn't feel embarrassed at all, finally revealing a side only Kyojuro had seen. y/n had finally realized that she no longer had to face any of this alone and that her friends were willing to let her share some of that burden with them and if that's what it takes to finally get their friend back they'd gladly accept it. y/n was not the only one who lost someone that day, they too lost their friend, a close friend.

bonus paragraph*

y/n visited Rengoku's grave after months of stalling, she knew that once she saw his burial sight reality would struck in making her worst nightmare come true. but this time y/n visited him with a new attitude. She paid her respects to him and then sat down next to his hakaishi telling him about everything she had gone through since he's been gone. " it's been a long time since you and I have had some alone time huh?" y/n said scooting close to his grave "these past couple of months have been the hardest without you, you know. but everyone has done their best to help me are friends are amazing" she giggled resting her head on it smiling ahead. "I was trapped in a complete funk without you. I even started slacking on my training which is fine, Tengen offered to train with me even taking me in as his tsugoku." the girl said happily. "Mitsuri gave me a bunch of recipes to try and they were pretty good I also have been spending most of my time at the butterfly estate. The girls have been wonderful company," y/n rambled, elbowing his grave. "things haven't been easy since you left but with the help of our friends I have been able to take it one step at a time I truly do miss you kyo, every day" y/n felt a warm breeze capturing her in what almost felt like a hug. "I wish you were here," y/n spoke as she closed her eyes.

#hashira x reader #rengoku fanart #rengoku x y/n #rengokukyoujorou #kimetsu rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku fluff #kyojuro headcanons #demon slayer kyojuro #kyojuro icons #yandere hashira #hashira smut #flame hashira #angst

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megumiivs · 9 months

Text

cw: cheating, manga spoilers (dont read if u havent finished the manga yet ty!), ooc mikey??

lowercase intended

to say mikey was the love of your life was an understatement. you two had grown up together, from snot nosed toddlers to reckless teenagers, through the thick and thin. to others, you guys were inseparable and it seemed inevitable that you would end up marrying him.

at least, that’s what you thought. it seemed that 18+ years of knowing each other and over 5 years of dating meant nothing to mikey. as you stared down at the instagram post, a wave of nausea washed over you. there he was, the love of your life, in all his glory, staring up at you from your phone. in the picture, he was sitting next to a gorgeous person, hand wrapped possessively around their waist. they seemed to be the exact opposite of you. to make matters worse, mikey seemed happier, too. he was smiling, and the usual dark bags under his eyes were missing. his whole persona was different. he seemed to succumb to the dark impulses around you. but the post showed no sign of dark impulses. was his other partner so amazing that they could keep a check on mikey’s dark impulses? something you couldn’t even do? was this why he had cheated? these questions gnawed at you, and it made you want to cry even more.

your heart felt like it had been split into two. mikey had cheated and by the looks of it, he had absolutely zero remorse. the post had proved it in a way. he had no problem with his other partner posting him on social media. yet, when you wanted to post a picture with it? it was a hard no. he had mumbled excuses along the lines of “not wanting the police to connect him to bonten” or that “everyone knows we’re together, there’s no need.” everything that he rejected appeared to be an exception for them.

you had stuck with mikey, despite him succumbing to the dark impulses after he had lost shinichiro, emma and baji. you had stuck with mikey, despite him trying to push everyone away. so why wasn’t that enough? why were you enough?

when mikey returned to your shared apartment that night, you couldn’t bear to look at him. to look at his handsome face, the face you had loved for the longest time. you sat montionless on the bed, tears staining your cheeks. mikey didn’t seem to notice your pain, walking right past you with a simple, “i’m back love.” the word ‘love’ drove you over the cliff. you let out a loud sob. how could he call you that after cheating on you for god knows how long. more tears began pouring out, clouding your vision. how could he call you love when how could he call you love when his neck bore a deep purple hickey?

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing yourself.

“let’s break up mikey.”

mikey stopped in his tracks.

“what?” he asked with a confused look on his face. “where is this coming from?”

“i know.” you say simply. “i know you’ve been cheating on me.”

he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “i saw their instagram post mikey.”

the tears begin flowing again. mikey stood there, face impassive. he took a deep breath before saying,

“okay?”

this simple word made you flip your switch. “sorry? is that all you have to say? we’ve been dating for five years and that’s all you have to say? you cheated on me mikey!”

he shrugs. “i know”

“you can’t even saying sorry?” you yell. “sorry doesnt even cut it but that’s better than fucking saying okay”

“what do you want me to do? i wasn’t trying to hide it anyway. you just took too long to find out.”

angry tears make its way down your cheeks. “fuck you mikey, fuck you for cheating on me, fuck you for making me think that we were going to last, fuck you for making me love you. i hate you, i hate you, i hate you.” you collapse against the wall of your shares apartment, curling into a ball.

The End 😊😊

i hate this and dont wanna finish this so i ended it

#[ lilith loves tokyorev 🌟]#tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers #mikey fluff #toman mikey #bonten mikey is toxic and im here for it #mikey tokyo revengers #sano manjiro

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skylarstark4826 · 1 month

Text

“... the next item for this Council to deliberate on, I would appreciate an explanation for why my application to the Council for the Wakandan Army kimoyo beads upgrade was rejected. The Science Team has been sending applications for upgrades like this since I invented Kimoyo beads at fifteen. What's different now?”

Shuri heard her voice get higher at the end, betraying the anxiety stirring in her stomach.

Deep breaths. Don’t let them know you are in distress

Namor’s words came back to her at times like this. Words he whispered into her curls, her ear pressed to his heart, his fingers gliding in a relaxing motion up and down her back as she shook, tears and snot interfering with her narration of how her day went because the proud Queen of Wakanda broken down into tiny sniffling pieces once her husband trots out the "what happened, why are you upset" in the deep rumble that was his concerned tone.

She could do it - she could hold everything back and keep her composure until she could properly fall apart in her husband's arms.

"We have never received an implementation request from the Queen of another Nation before. You may be the Black Panther, protector of Wakanda, but you also have loyalties to another Nation. We have concerns that the queen of a potential enemy nation seeks to modify our military equipment." Nana Afogo was saying, to the agreement of most of the tribal council, going by the bobbleheads going off around the room.

Mbaku was noticeably motionless, eyes intent on the throne. At her. It was unnerving to say the least but she shook it off.

Always look focused even when you are anything but, never let them see you distracted. To that, Shuri had joked " Never Iet them catch you slipping, got it." - But now Namor's words came in handy, with the force of the council's harsh unblinking stare directed at her like a judgemental spotlight, looking for the smallest flash of evidence that she was not fit to be queen like her mother before her.

"I am the Queen of Wakanda, the Black Panther, the head of the science team AND the Queen Consort of Talokan. We were at war with Talokan, but the alliance by marriage means that we have the same goals, which both nations agreed to work together to achieve. Yes, the situation is unprecedented but the modifications are important for both Wakanda and Talokan’s military." Shuri paused to draw in a deep breath, "This is not just a routine upgrade. The new kimoyo beads are essential to fulfill the terms of our alliance with Talokan. My obligations by marriage aside, I am still Shuri Udaka of the Golden Tribe. I’m still… me.”

The voice crack and the appeal to emotion at the end was a rookie mistake, Shuri was willing to admit, but these were elders that watched her grow up, wiped snot from her nose when she was nothing but an overcurious ankle biter.

Nana Afofo turned her head to the side, the sign every Wakandan child knew as dismissal from an elder and Shuri’s heart shattered. Namor’s voice reverberated in her mind, Don’t you be so hard on yourself, dear princess. Not even the great Talokan was built in a day. She had ridiculed his mode of speech then but his words came in handy now. She needed to be patient.

Lord M’baku spoke up, “You must know by now that the Council has its traditions. We have never dealt with a ruler like you before, Queen Shuri. We are assured of your loyalty to Wakanda as Queen as well as the Black Panther but there are whispers in the land and on the mountains. They say you are too distracted with all your numerous… responsibilities and you may have made a mistake with your new kimoyo beads. Let us speak within ourselves and review your application again.”

Shuri, back straight with her head held up high, nodded calmly as she brought the Tribal Council session to a close.

Roadblocks are temporary, you must learn patience, young Queen.

That particular piece of advice was difficult for her to digest, Shuri had always been a bulldozer, even as a child, a right menace to the army of royal babysitters and then later to her teachers before her parents gave up and pulled her out of school because Shuri only learned at her own pace, far too advanced for other 6 year olds. But now as an adult - as Queen - she was forced to tamp down the bubbling panic in her chest as she dismissed the Council even as they dismissed her in their hearts.

Or maybe she was overreacting. Proposals from Heads of State were rejected by their Legislative bodies all the time right? She wouldn't know, since she was never meant for this and once again, like all the other times the throne had gotten too uncomfortable for her, she wished her brother was still alive.

“Queen Shuri”, Lord Mbaku stayed behind, to speak to her privately she presumed.

“That was not fair.”

“The Council feels as though you are too far from us. From Wakanda.”

“I’m quite literally standing before you in Wakanda’s throne room.”

He sighed, long suffering. Like he was thinking “This stubborn Queen will be the death of me” or something equally exasperated.

He leveled her with a look from his great height, his furs moving with his squared shoulders as he prepared himself to say something he no doubt thought was important, “Queen Shuri, know that the whispers I mentioned earlier are very real. Do you know what they say?” He continued at her minute headshake, “They see you show the fishman around Birinin Zana, smiling and giggling with him as he takes in the results of our reconstruction efforts. Reconstruction we carried out because of HIM.” The Jabariman emphasized the last word like he was about to seek out the nearest fishperson and throttle them within an inch of their near immortal life.

“Reconstruction he and his people helped with? According to the terms of the alliance you and your Council drew up and I approved? Or do you need me to help you recall how the Tribal Council insisted on that clause?” Shut up Shuri. Shut the fuck up you are being too obvious. When did she start to defend her husband by default instead of listening regally, nodding slowly then dismissing him like Namor advised.

“I’m not your enemy here,” Mbaku started.

“Ofcourse not,” Shuri interjected, leveling him with a look, tilting her head in a very un-queen-like manner.

“But the people are saying you are a little too happy with your husband. That your heart may be pulled in opposite directi-”

“Are you questioning my loyalty to Wakanda?” She asked, eyes hardened, back straight, body tense - about to pounce.

“Certainly not my Queen,” but there was an inquiring look in his eyes. One Shuri did not like. “But the Tribal Council is just unsure of how to deal with a queen who is also a ruler of another nation."

When the laughter stumbled out of Shuri, it was tinged with an edge of bitterness. “The Tribal Council forced me to wed Namor after the war, as punishment for not killing the God-King of a warrior nation which would have spelt the end of Wakanda as we know it and now they're unhappy that I have managed to find a smidgen of happiness with him, was I supposed to be miserable for the rest of my life?"

M'baku gave her a scrutinizing look, "I warned you against attacking Namor, which was why I turned the other way when the Tribal Council punished you but I never want you miserable, Usisi omncinci ." The informal address took her by surprise but she didn't show it, nodding and accepting that her rage had taken her to the height of indifference for potential irreversible consequences just like Namor’s had led him to cause a strain on their relationship that could never be completely erased.

He quirked his head, inquiring, "Are you? Are you happy with him?" in that battering ram way of his, "because if it's all an act-"

"Lord M'baku, hold your peace." His mouth snapped close at the command in her words, Namor would be proud, really.

You are in need of a command word, or phrase. When you say this, everyone in the room should sit and take notice. I believe it is the best way to fake confidence when one is still learning the ropes.

Like a catchphrase?

"Perhaps that," he said in the distracted tone he had when he didn't understand her words but trusted her to be always right

"I became king as an adolescent, barely big enough to mount an orca and the elders, especially those who had been in positions of power in the surface world, took pleasure in challenging me. One day I lashed out, reminding them that I was Ajawo' le Imperio, king of the empire, as promised by our god Chaac. I saw their reaction to my declaration and I learned to use it to my advantage."

"Did that become your catchphrase? Aje-"

"Imperious Rex, Ajawo' le Imperio"

"You have to teach me how to say that"

He looked at her, fondness brimming and overflowing from his gaze, "I'd rather help you come up with yours."

It was her first time using it, in a relatively relaxed setting and she felt boosted by the results already. "I am happy with my marriage and my husband. There is no need to fake as we are content in the nature of our relationship as is."

M'baku nodded, still struck dumb at Shuri's very dignified command to shut his mouth. Shuri quickly figured that she didn't need something like imperious rex, no one could dispute her birthright as Queen but she observed that her small stature and youth caused them to take liberties with her that they wouldn't have with her father, mother or brother. She liked the infrequently used English idiom because she thought it sounded dignified, like something her mother would say.

"I'm glad to hear that, My Queen," Mbaku was saying, "I do not support the Tribal Council freezing you out simply because you are happy in your marriage which we forced upon you but I ask for your patience. As you know, the elders do not trust your husband. He has given us sufficient reason for this. Give us time to understand and turn a blind eye to the machinations of the Council for now."

"I await feedback from the Council." A pause, then "Thank you."

He nodded once and silently walked out. Once his shadow stopped darkening any visible stretch of flooring, Shuri heaved a huge sigh of relief and slouched in her throne.

The throne, notwithstanding its grandiose appearance, is but a humble chair. Keep this in mind, young Queen, a good leader is nothing but a guide, a helper. You are the most compassionate human on the surface world, given that my standing here itself is only by your mercy. You would be a great Queen, princess.

She didn't feel like a great Queen. She felt like a fraud.

NSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

A deconstructed kimoyo bead sat before her, the black refined vibranium of the prime bead’s exterior sat empty like an abandoned kolanut shell on the streets of Birinin Zana, its guts spilled all over the table as Shuri pondered over it. A standard issue Talokanil military breathing mask laid placidly in her hands as she examined both devices. She had worked obscene hours over the period of a month to make sure both militaries could communicate and share data through both proprietary devices. The breathing mask technology was fascinating really, the brainchild of the beautiful head scientist of Talokan and Namor himself.

He was an enviable monarch. Participating in every aspect of his people’s lives from their births to their eventual deaths and everything in between. He worked with the builders to construct homes, patrolled with the sentries to keep their home safe from the over curious eyes of outsiders, he visited the children’s schools as regularly, playing with them and telling them Talokanil myths and legends. In all of the Talokan cities, there wasn't a blue fish person whose eyes don't light up when talking about their King.

And Shuri searched…

You bet she searched for evidence that Namor was a terrible ruler. She spent a month in Talokan after their marriage and got sick of just how normal everything seemed. The people were content, happy, a state of being she always thought was impossible outside of Wakanda. Their god-king swam among them without any finery or entourage, something unheard of in any surface nation. He conversed with them. Held them. Blessed them.

Shuri had hated it all, so one day she went to his table, the same one he sat at when she first clapped eyes on him in his element and used his quill and some leftover paper to request a tour around the fragmented outer clusters of cities that made up the rest of Talokan. In hindsight, Shuri realized that her insistence on not speaking to him at the beginning of their marriage was a questionable decision because the tour lasted the entire month. She had underestimated the size of the nation and Namor, in a move so salty it rivaled the Dead sea, did not warn her at all but assigned her an elder Talokanil tour guide who was a wealth of knowledge on the bustling nation and a very frowny Namora as her personal guard.

She came back to Wakanda stunned by what she had witnessed with her two eyes as, every city they visited, they either met Namor there already or he had just left, moving to the next city on his rotation. The children curiously surrounded her in every city she visited, calling her Queen and asking, according to Griot, why she didn't join their King on his weekly visit. She had no real answer for them, herself completely shocked that he essentially traveled around the world every week to care for his people.

Eyes glazing over, Shuri set the oxygen mask down, shaking her head minutely. She couldn't even get a kimoyo bead upgrade exercise done as Queen, something she had successfully achieved in her teenage years.

“Shuri-”

“Zip it Griot,”

“The-”

“Mute Griot,” she said, leaning back, letting her head fall over the top of her seat. Eyes closed, Griot muted, she blocked out the world, needing to regroup after the grilling she endured at the Tribal Council meeting. She rarely felt like this. Completely destabilized and firmly outside her comfort zone. The last time she felt this way was… was…

Her eyes opened to meet the mismatched ones of her husband, who was floating above her, looking down. Maybe she should have jumped, startled at the half naked godkingwhateverelse floating in her lab after she had warned him several times to never do that but all she felt was a bone-deep, all encompassing sense of relief.

K'uk'ulkan was here.

"Hmm," he took her in as she straightened, " Tribal Council?"

It was a simple question, a teasing one, but Shuri felt tears knocking just behind the dam she constructed all day to hold them back. She smiled ruefully at the thought, only Namor could make her cry from the simple joy of being so completely understood.

She stood as he settled his feet on the ground, not waiting to wrap her hands around his waist and squeeze hard. Her actions would have killed anyone else, Crushing their internal organs into puree but Namor just laughed, wrapping his hands around her in return.

Her eyes closed as she buried her face into his damp neck and breathed him in. She loved that she didn't have to watch herself around him. Not her strength, not her rage, not her tears. Namor took all she had to give and asked for more. He was nuzzling his face into her curls now, eternally fascinated by them.

"You are quiet. Did their inconsistent ramblings affect you so?" Shuri had half a mind to ignore his question just so he could keep talking and she could enjoy the vibrations of his chest against her.

"My application was rejected. The Kimoyo beads one?" she unearthered herself from the allure of his warm skin and heady scent, looking up at him as she asked, "Is it so bad that we have managed to find common ground amongst the ruins of what could have been?"

Her feathered serpent god gave her a considering look before she was swept off her feet and was taken into her lab’s elevator. “This conversation is best held around a body of water”.

She hung to his neck, too tired, too mentally exhausted to protest as he drifted with her deadweight in his arms. He was a god and he could handle it. She wasn't sure if he encountered anyone on his way to their rooms, too busy trying to inhale the comforting sea saltiness of him to care. Perhaps she should care, since her closeness with him was the cause of her troubles today.

K’uk’ulkan took her straight to the massive obsidian clawfoot tub in her baths, which to her surprise was already overflowing with soft white bubbles. “Wha- when did you do this?”

“I arrived here earlier and griot informed me that you were preoccupied. A bath always makes me feel good after a long day as a sovereign.”

Shuri made the ugliest sound of relief she could get away with as she stripped off her clothes with relish, saying, "It's exactly what I need," even when she knew he was following her every move with his eyes. She turned to him, completely unashamed in her nudity, "Wait was that a joke? like a true, honest to Bast joke? "

Kulkan's prominent eyebrows rose even further "I am capable of levity,"

She hummed as she stepped into the warm white bubbles, making another embarrassing, unladylike sound.

"The Council's resistance is to be expected.” He said conversationally as he took her thin wrist in his hand, using a sudsy roughcloth to wash her skin gently, “They need time to trust you as queen."

The air that whooshed out of her nose might have passed for a laugh if Shuri hadn't said "They didn't have this problem with T'challa, the only reason why they don't trust me is you."

Namor washed her upper arms and chest, paying attention to underneath her breasts which she was particular about, saying nothing.

"They say my heart is pulled in opposite directions. When would it become clear to my tribal council and to your elders that Wakanda and Talokan are reflections of each other? Why have they decided to be hard hearted over such an important issue?"

Namor listened, kneeling by the tub as he gently caressed the body parts she presented to him with a roughcloth. His eyes followed every expression on her face as she spoke, like he was searching for something. It was the same look he gave her in bed, knees by her ears, his eyes drilling into her as deeply as his cock as she lost herself under him over and over again.

Shuri squirmed in his hold as he reached behind her to do her back, spilling wet white bubbles over the tub, soaking his chest and his green shorts. His fingers skimmed down her back to the three layered waist beads aloft at the slimmest point of her waist, made by master Talokanil beaders in the style of his mother's necklace, his first gift to her. She pretended not to hear the satisfied rumble vibrating deep in his chest before he said, "They are not hardhearted. It is their job to provide resistance to your proposals where they see fit."

Now Shuri was moving for another reason, the fires of her temper fanned by Namor's words even as blood pooled between her legs, reacting to his touches. "Whose side are you on here, Namor?" She pulled away from him in anger, dislodging his wandering fingertips and leveling him with a look that likely did little to express the complexity of emotions she was feeling in this moment, "You made me Queen in the worst way yet most of my time is spent defending you and enduring the humiliation of falling for you and yet you take their side? "

Her husband's gaze never wavered from hers despite her outburst but he kept mercifully silent, as if trying to decide what she needed from him at the moment. She made it easy, "Please leave, " her voice was strong, reverberating in the black and white of their shared bathroom as she settled back into the tub, eyes trained on the wilting suds until she heard the door close.

Only then did she sigh, longsuffering, before submerging herself completely under the bubbles trying to ignore the pulsing between her legs.

NSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

It wasn't the squirming that woke him, nor wasn't it the squeezing tightness around the tip of his cock. No, it was her whimpers and hurt groans that woke him up.

His mutant physiology meant that he didn't need sleep but on days when his princess was displeased with him, he found it to be a comfort he sought and it certainly helped that time served to calm her ire. Now, his eyes blinked open bleary, confused as his hand shot out on instinct to hold the warm weight hovering over him. Soft, warm wetness blanketed the tip of his cock…

"Princess-"

"Nothing's happening Namor, just- go back to sleep," her cunt clenched around him and he felt a busy hand fluttering all over his cock, trying to guide it deeper into her wet center. She was like a baby bird atop him, stumblingly unsure of her next actions, one hand braced with the full force of her weight on his chest as she tried - letting out chest deep groans when she failed - to get more of his cock inside her.

Shuri initiating sexual contact between both of them was something Namor had been content to wait forever for, not really expecting it to happen because he was too old to hope and much too content with having her anyway he could get her in the fragile dance that was their relationship. The hand pressing almost dangerously into his chest shook as her hips twisted above him, pushing more of his tip into her wet core, forcing him to reevaluate everything he knew - was it possible then, for him to dream?

"Shuri-"

"Namor, i'll scratch your eyes out if you say another word."

This was certainly not a dream then.

He acquiesced to her wishes, keeping still and quiet.

Her channel was narrow and remarkably tight inside, even more so now that she was trying this position for the first time. He was almost too wide, always needing to coax her gently through the initial entry to avoid bruising her delicate walls. The princess whined at the next unpracticed twist of her hips and Namor was torn between worry for her and the entrancing bounce of her brown tipped breasts.

"Princess-" he tried again.

"Not now Namor, I'm working on- I'm trying to apologize here!"

"Apologize?" Whatever for?

" I snapped at you earlier-"

Was that what this was about?

"I'm a 500 year near immortal god, I can take your scratches, kitten-"

Her moan was unexpected, and it was a concentrated effort to not jerk into her, impaling her and potentially earning her ire.

“-And we agreed, there would be no apologies between us.”

"Just…shut up Namor," her voice held a shocked quality to it like she couldn't quite believe that this was the sheer amount of cock he had been squeezing into her since they started getting intimate 6 months ago and almost a year into their marriage. Namor huffed, bemused and more turned on than he had ever been in his life. This was no apology, Namor realised, bemused when it dawned on him that she had expected his attentions tonight and decided to take matters into her hands or between her thighs, so to speak, greedily straddling him in his sleep, intent on taking her pleasure with nary a finger to prepare herself.

Chaac, she is trying to kill me, and she might succeed this time.

She was taking her sweet time making the journey down his cock while Namor's centuries worth of self control frayed at the edges over a 25 year old's inexperienced fumblings. By Chaac, she was close to caving his chest in as she braced her entire weight against his chest, her tattoo pulsing like a serpent as her muscles moved underneath her skin. He needed to take over, quickly.

"Princess, not that I don't appreciate your apology but I think you might need some help." Lips bitten between teeth, Shuri halted her movements and nodded minutely. Namor didn't waste time to lean forward, one hand spanning the entirety of shuri's waist, the other cupping her ass as he lifted her off his cock.

"No matter how wet you are, princess, you should stretch yourself and get my cock slick before you try this," he said this as he pressed the length of his cock against her slick folds until he was coated in her honey, Shuri holding onto his shoulders face buried in his neck as he moved her as though she was weightless.

A shudder racked the unresisting body in his arms as her cunt swallowed up Namor’s cock, in a much easier slide but it was the heat from his mouth closing around her nipple that truly shocked her, causing her pussy to clench in time with the strong suction around her sensitive nub. Namor groaned, jerking upwards and impaling her with the rest of his cock, it was a stretch but she could take it, the dual onslaught confusing her rational mind enough that she became pliant, letting him in completely.

Her small breasts occupied his mouth in its entirety, as soft as the deepest parts of her pussy he explored, dragging out deep shuddery groans that sounded like they were forced out of her parted lips.

Shuri's back arched as Namor dragged a hand along it while he rutted deeper into her, crooning, "There we go…" in a voice roughed by his arousal, "Nice and easy." She felt like heaven around him, wet and soft inside, hot enough to scald but oh so pliant.

"Is it still an apology if I'm doing all the work?" he laughed softly as her sharp teeth dug into his neck in response to his teasing. They slowed down with him now fully sheathed inside, her face buried in his neck as though she was- was she shy?

" I enjoy your fire, in yakunaj , in whatever form I can get it. An apology feels unnatural coming from you, it is as though the currents suddenly changed directions," speaking mostly into her curls so her tiny nods were as easily perceptible as the occasional squeeze around his cock.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright with a sadness he could never understand, "You were right you know? If they didnt put up this resistance, they wouldn't be performing their duties as the council. I just expected…" He pressed a soft kiss to her upturned mouth, content to let her process her emotions like this, without interfering.

"It has been a long time since I spent time in Talokan," the abrupt change in subject did not shock him and he heard what she wasn't saying. I need a break.

"We shall leave at first light tomorrow,"

She laughed, dislodging his arms and pushing him back on the bed, as she teased, "We shall leave when my schedule says we can leave," before leaning over him to seal her lips over his, seemingly gaining her confidence back, the new angle caused dual grunts as he was shoved deeper into her than he thought was possible.

This wasnt a kiss, this was torture.

Her tongue tangled with his in a perfect mimicky of now he kissed her, she was as ever, the perfect student, seemingly figuring out how to take her pleasure in this position as her hips twisted in time with her tongue, grinding his head deeper against a spot she liked without lifting herself and shuddering half out of his arms at the sensation. Namor was being used as nothing more than a pleasure toy at the moment and could do nothing but hold on for the ride.

And ride she did- as soon as she took her fill of his mouth, bouncing up and down with abandon, uncaring for anything else beyond her pleasure coating his cock repeatedly with creamy evidence of her enjoyment. He reached forward to press a thumb to her clit, giving her something to press the swollen nub against and was rewarded with, " Fuck! K'uk'ulkan!" like it was startled out of her, then, "I'm about to- oh- " At her cue, he grabbed her wrists with one hand and held her waist in place with the other as he shoved into her heated core , rough and precise, from underneath her, until she clamped around him, eyes going unfocused, drenching him in her climax. She was beautiful like this.

Barely down from her high with her slim, sweaty body still tight around him, Namor flipped them around, pressing Shuri into the soft nest of pillows untouched by their coupling so far, holding her hip at an angle and shoving in deep. It was a joy to watch her, dark skin glittering in the moonlight, her screams piercing the peaceful night air as he snapped balls deep into her oversensitive pussy fucked loose and pliant from her first orgasm.

She struggled weakly against him this time, most likely because he was going against her wishes and taking over but he ignored it because she let him spread her knees wider, her waist beads riding up as he reached completion, deep as he could go.

Heavy breathing filled the moonlit room and Namor was amazed and yet not at all surprised that his wife managed to look disgusted with him while her thighs held him closer and her ankles crossed behind him, "You were not supposed to take over," maybe she meant to sound cross but her words had a needy tinge to them. He peppered her face with soft kisses in wordless apology, pulling out slightly as she averted her eyes at the obscene sounds of the mess they made together.

"I see. Perhaps, I should apologize when you fall asleep, princess."

#nashuri #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #namor and shuri #namor of talokan #shuri of wakanda #king namor #princess shuri #nashuri fanart #namor x shuri fanart #black panther #black panter wakanda forever #namor mcu #namuri

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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Ooooh shit it’s my problematic fave: hate to love him, love to hate him, god help me it’s a good thing this man is cute

“The World Ender” for Calvin, pretty please ❤️ extra detail: reader is also a writer, and Calvin and reader are a bit competitive (maybe he’s even jealous of her at times, but she has no clue about that), but reader gets some particularly bad feedback on her writing (not from Calvin, from someone else), and she starts to doubt her abilities to the point where she’s extremely discouraged and down. Calvin catches her crying and puts his ego aside and steps in to comfort her/encourage her. The relationship of these two is sort of like enemies to lovers vibes. Thank you!

Author's Note | your juicy, big brain thoughts absolutely kill me, hon. like I planned on keeping these under 1,000 words but you gave me this prompt and my brain went NYOOM and now we have over 1,300 words of a scenario that I'm in love with and it's all your fault!! (in a positive way, lmao, love you, bb)

This is so stupid, you think to yourself as you mope on the stairwell of your publishing company’s building. After years of working through all of your anxiety and procrastination and the logistics, you’d published a book. Your first one since your debut a few years prior. You did the thing that everyone said you couldn’t do and that was come up with a worthy follow up.

And of course some asshole critic had to give their two cents. Amongst the flood of praise from your peers and the general public alike, some snot-nosed, insolent, slimy book reviewer had written a scathing review.

Uninspired. Incompetent. Unintelligible garble. This book is a waste of paper.

You scrolled through the review, skimming through each line that seemed tailor-made to make you break down completely. Had everyone simply been lying? They'd all told you that you were so talented. A promising young author. Had you really fallen so far in the years it took to build up your confidence again?

Calvin was particularly annoyed to find the elevator was out of order. After the particularly taxing meeting with Langdon, Calvin hated the idea of having to go back down the stairs. On the walk up, he'd been so confident. Finally ready to set a deadline for the first draft of his next book only to find out that Langdon hated his ideas and wanted him to go back to the drawing board.

With his ego shot, he's almost delighted to find you sitting on the steps as he rounds the corner onto the bottom floor.

The back and forth he has with you isn't playful, by any means. From the moment he'd overheard you say that you thought his first book was overrated at one of Langdon's parties, he'd been perpetually holding his nose up. At least his book was being sold. Sure, it had been years since he'd finished something that lived up to it...but at least he was working.

You, on the other hand, had taken a break for a few years. Too much pressure from the industry had made you cave. Calvin had scoffed at the news; he thought you were weak. A delicate little flower that couldn't handle criticism.

Calvin remembered reading your book the week it came out. Unusually, he devoured it all in a few sittings. And even if he was grasping for straws...he couldn't find anything he glaringly disliked. He thought he would have written a few passages better here and there. But that was just him being picky. On a technical level...it was brilliant. He'd closed your book shut when he finished it and simply decided that he was never going to give you the satisfaction of knowing his thoughts.

The urge to make up some bullshit insult upon spotting you is strong, yet, it subsides when he hears a high pitched cry. Then a short sniffle. Are you crying?

You hear his shoes stepping on the stairwell as he gets closer and you wipe away your undereyes with a knuckle.

Your head whips around to find the source of the intrusive sound. "Calvin?"

He sees your bleary eyes. Clearly red. Nose still running just a little as your back straightens in his presence. "Y/N." he greets coldly. He tries to keep his nose up. Tries to pass by as if he doesn't care even in the slightest that he caught his rival breaking down in the harshly lit stairwell. As if the idea of making some snide comment with the express purpose of kicking you while you're down didn't make him feel downright sick inside.

But as he reaches the step you sit on, he gives into the compelling urge to sit beside you. Almost instinctively you grimace to yourself and scoot a little further away.

Smoothing your hair back and sighing you ask, “What do you want from me this time, Calvin? Planning on saying I told you so?”

Really, Calvin can't think of anything to say. There's nothing aside from a bone-chilling awkwardness seeping into his touch as he slowly pats your back. Because if he knows one thing, he knows that you don't need him adding onto whatever pile you've got forming in your head.

"Are you okay?" he raises an eyebrow behind those tortoiseshell glasses and it makes you want to cry all over again. Are you really about to accept comfort from the notoriously full of himself, arrogant, douche, Calvin Weir-Fields? The answer to that seems to be a yes as you sob out loud, burying your red face in your hands.

"Why am I like this?" you ask, muffled by your hands.

"Ummm...I don't know...?" Calvin tries slowly.

You look at him suddenly, "Did you read the new Times article today? The one by Robert Novak?"

Of course he had. He drank in every single review. Mostly trying to find someone else who could possibly give him a reason to dislike your book. Robert Novak should've been his best friend for that task. He was relentless, tearing into your pages like he was being paid per word. Maybe he was. Maybe that's why he used so many run-on sentences and pulled random critiques out of thin air.

Regardless of that, Calvin was sure that by the end of the article that Robert Novak had no idea what he was talking about. And, frustratingly, your book was actually good.

"Yeah, it was...certainly one hell of a read."

"I put everything into that book. And he said it was garbage. I spent months pouring out my entire heart...and this one asshole...manages to get to me."

Calvin puts his hands up to explain, "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure the guy is a hack. One second he's writing about how your main character's character arc was nonexistent and the next he's claiming that the plot line doesn't justify the changes that the main character went through. I mean," Calvin chuckles nervously, "Pick a side."

You stare forward for a few seconds, processing for a few seconds before Calvin has the chance to ramble again, "You actually read my book?"

Calvin tries to loosen a little, screwing his face up into a nonchalant grin, "Of course...just for...comparison...purposes. Gotta keep in tune with what the public is consuming these days..."

You stifle your own smile at his forced demeanor. You know what a truly indifferent Calvin looks like and this isn't it. This Calvin is sweet.

He waves the excuse away, "Never mind. Just know that...Robert Novak has no fucking clue what he's talking about. I'd be willing to bet that snob didn't even read it. Probably had a deadline to hit so he came up with whatever bullshit he could while skimming it. Wouldn't be the first time some asshole half assed something just to fulfill a quota."

Calvin knew that situation all too well from every time he had to rush to finish one of his short stories for review and publication. Just some asshole...half assing a project...whereas you had channeled your soul into your work. How dare he be such a snob?

You nod slowly, already beginning to feel better. "So I assume you liked my book."

"It was...alright." Calvin cleared his throat, "Tolerable." Perfect.

"You really expect me to believe that?" you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, don't get too full of yourself."

You scoff playfully, "You're one to talk."

Calvin just stares at you. And he feels like he's looking at you with brand new eyes as he laughs at himself and concludes with a light smile, "Yeah. I am one to talk."

#strange trails milestone✨#ruby sparks #calvin weir fields #calvin weir fields x reader #calvin weir fields x you #calvin weir fields x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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weasleywhimz · 1 year

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A Scheme for a Set Up (part 1) - An Eventual George Weasley Love Story

This is a two part instalment, it was starting to get a bit long, so I’ve cut it up into two. I tried my best proof reading but I don’t have anyone to check it for me so apologies for any typos! I’m still editing part 2 but I hope it won’t take long to post.

When I was in school there was always at least one guy, if not a group of friends, who could always get things without ID somehow. Fred and George definitely fit this kind of vibe

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: fluff, mentions of underage alcohol use, awkward teenage romance

As the summer months approached, and her friends became more available as their exams ended (although Fred and George didn’t seem as absorbed in their exam period as Lee and the older girls), Francesca was grateful for the returning excuse to avoid most of her year group, and therefore any interest in what happened with her and Cormac.

Following the humiliating night, only a few days after the Quidditch cup win, Francesca had tried to avoid spending much time in the Gryffindor common room. Try as she might, she couldn’t completely pretend nothing had happened, since a huge number of the house had seen her red eyed, snot nosed entry to the tower after the break up, and Cormac returning not long after. The whole house had either put two and two together, or Cormac had answered questions, but as soon as the next morning came Francesca’s intention to pretend nothing, not even the relationship had happened, was obviously not going to work.

It was easier when her friends happily welcomed her back to spending her free time with them, and respected her demand to never ask about or discuss any part of her being with Cormac. But when study sessions and library nights had to become more frequent (at least for Angelina and Alicia, who tended to be the mother hens of the group, and herded the boys into the same corners), Francesca found herself wondering around alone. Often Katie joined her, but Katie didn’t have the same awkwardness with their year group that Francesca currently felt, so she wasn’t avoiding the rest of their cohort like Francesca was. She felt eyes on her and questions burning even when she just sat with anyone who knew both her and Cormac, and even took to sitting right at the front of class, under the teachers’ noses to avoid the whispered questions she had faced in the first few days in her usual seats.

So she was beyond relieved when Fred and George plopped down either side of her, declaring an end to their exams.

“Ah great, a whole weekend out of isolation,” Francesca drawled sarcastically, not wanting to feed their egos of letting on how grateful she was for the few days before they all headed home for the summer.

“A weekend and a Friday, we don’t have an exam tomorrow,” Fred corrected.

“Thought we’d cheer you up and sneak you out tomorrow, fancy bunking off?” George asked, his creeping arm around the back of the sofa where they sat.

“How on god’s green earth do you think we’d ever get away with sneaking out? What about Black?!” Francesca chided. She was quickly hushed by the twins.

“Keep your voice down!” Fred admonished. “We wouldn’t get caught of course,” he continued.

“And we’d protect you Fran, don’t worry about Black, I’m sure he’s not around here anymore,” George finished, a softness in his voice that made the girl turn to face him.

“How would you even plan to get out? You don’t have that map anymore since you gave it to Harry, and what am I supposed to say to get away with bunking off without being in the hospital wing?” Francesca folded her arms, unable to follow her friends’ madness, part out of genuine concern, but mostly out of pride stopping her from admitting she liked their idea. “I’m a shoo-in for prefect next year, I don’t want to ruin it, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise to us,” Fred joked, holding his hands up in mock defence. “We just thought you looked lonely and bored over here by yourself, where is Katie anyway?”

“With Leanne,” Francesca replied, dropping her gaze back to the fire.

“Why aren’t you?” George ask, that softness and lack of teasing increasingly apparent in contrast to his brother. He was watching her carefully, in fact he had been for the past month. The girls in his year had pushed both him and Fred to study at least a little in preparation for their exams, and the schedule of exams alone didn’t leave much time for socialising, but even if he didn’t have time to talk to her, he still noticed how she often excused herself early at mealtimes, sat curled up in the common room, book in hand but gaze unmoving across its page. He’d seen her sitting alone in the courtyard or in the grounds as he peered out windows wherever he felt he was being held against his will for these exams. He’d been pining for a month now, desperate to talk to her and try and get her back into her usual mood. And selfishly, he would rather spend his time with her than anyone else. And that feeling had only grown since he didn’t have any niggling guilt now, that he may be causing a problem for her with Cormac, by being alone with another guy.

Not that he had any intentions of making any moves when she was still so caught up in what had happened with her last relationship. He wasn’t even sure if that was a good idea at all, not wanting to introduce any elements that might threaten the closeness he already had with her.

“I don’t want to be a mood killer,” Francesca answered, drooping back further into the sofa. George noticed how close his hand now was to the top of her head, and had to consciously restrain himself from playing with the strands of her hair the way she had done to him, weeks ago in his dorm. “Besides,” she continued, “I’m not married to Katie, you lot aren’t the only mates we have!”

“You definitely look like Billy-no-mates right now, Fran”, Fred half joked, half chided. It earned him a terse look from his brother, who was clearly of the opinion their younger friend required a much gentler hand than usual these days. “Look, we’re throwing an end of exams party, and Lee and Angelina have two left tomorrow, Alicia has one in the morning so she’ll help set up, but we need to go early to get things from Hogsmeade, so come for the thrill of it. Promise we’ll say we kidnapped you if we’re caught.”

Francesca pouted for a moment, before relenting.

“Fine.”

And that’s how she ended up, so early in the morning they still had the cover of darkness, waiting for the twins to descend their side of the dormitory stairs. They were late, but she wasn’t going to go looking for them, relieved she might have an excuse they couldn’t blame her for. But just as she was about to give up and go back to bed, she saw George thumping down the staircase, his jaw set.

“What’s up with you?” She asked, “where’s Fred?”

“Not coming,” he muttered, shoving his hands further in his hoodie pockets. “Come on we’re running late.”

She kept close to him as they made their way through the castle, George no longer needing the funny map he and Fred had given to Harry this year, he had all the secret passage ways and hidden doors memorised. They had made quick work of the journey down, pausing only to let George listen or peer around a corner to make sure they weren’t to be caught by Filch or a teacher.

When they were halfway through the cellar passage, and well far enough away to no longer have to be as silent as possible, Francesca felt the need to try and break the tension that was so obvious around George.

“Why didn’t Fred come?”

“He refused to get out of bed,” George replied, still keeping his moody tone and arms tensed in his pocket.

“He wouldn’t wake up?” She said, confused, “that’s not like him.”

“Oh no he was awake alright,” George said, resentment clear. “He just insisted I go alone.” Francesca blinked, his grumpy tone sounding almost like he was unhappy she was joining him.

“I can go back if you don’t want me here,” she told him.

He stopped then, well before their exit, and turned to look at her surprised.

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know George, you haven’t smiled at me once and seem very put out that Fred made you spend time alone with me,” she explained.

“He’s being a git, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you I promise,” he interrupted.

“But why would him being a git mean you end up going alone with me, and that be something obviously so upsetting?”

He gawped for a second before quickly looking at the floor, not knowing quite what to say. All he could get out of his mind was how much he wanted to throttle his brother and how much he wanted to hold the girl in front of him. Neither of those actions would be totally appropriate to other people, so he felt a bit clueless.

“Let’s hurry up,” he mumbled, turning away from her again and headed towards the exit. “I promise I’m not grumpy with you at all, but I’m too tired to hide my annoyance with Fred-“ George paused, turning back again, the distance between them having grown when she hadn’t followed him. “Fran? Aren’t you coming?”

“You promise I didn’t do anything?” She asked, voice suddenly sounding small. George melted a bit as he looked at her, and quickly crossed the distance. It was hard for him to be anything but warm with her, and as soon as he looked at her properly he understood. He made a point of cursing McLaggen again in his head, hating how much his friend’s confidence had been destroyed.

“I promise,” he said, putting his hands gently on her shoulders and smiling. “I’m actually glad that you came with me, you’re miles better company than Fred,” George reassured, “he just thinks he’s being a slick git staying in bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said back, still sounding a little unsure. George was behaving weirdly, although he seemed to have snapped out of it now, she couldn’t quite understand the cause of his tension.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “we’re going to have to be quick now if we don’t want to run into any teachers on the way back.”

George pulled her along the rest of the way, ignoring the way his heart was thumping and quickening the pace to disguise the redness in his cheeks.

George made her wait by a hut not far from the cellar steps they had appeared out of, as he went to the back door of the Three Broomsticks. Dawn had just broken, but it was still too early for most people to be up. She watched, nervous at first that he was about to break in and steal something, but instead he knocked an odd pattern on the door, and one of the barmen opened it. She grinned as she recognised him as the slightly grumpy one Fred and George always made a point of greeting when the group went in on their approved village trips. Suddenly she understood how the twins had managed to secure all their secret supplies of butterbeer, fire whiskey and the like, and shook her head in fond disapproval.

He came over with a box and offered it to her to take.

“Sure you can manage that?” He asked, not removing his grip before she had properly tested the weight.

“I may not be a quidditch player but I’m not weak, Weasley!”

He grinned at her and let her take the box of drink from him.

“There’s two more and then we’ll head back,” he said, throwing her a wink before rushing back to the waiting barman. Francesca felt her cheeks heat and stomach flip, but chose to put it down to the strain of the box.

She watched as the barman lifted one of the boxes onto George’s shoulder as George grasped the outside of it, and a small cut out handle in the other box, so he could carry both of them at the same time. She wasn’t sure why her breath hitched at the sight, it wasn’t exactly news that a beater on a quidditch team would be well muscled. Still, when he approached her again, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long.

“Let’s go?” He asked, and she wordlessly followed behind him as he kicked the door to the cellar open and descended the stairs.

As they walked back she could see the staircase they had entered the passageway from, and realised that it actually stretched much further than where the stairs joined it, but the corridor stretched into darkness, only the portion they had walked, after the staircase, contained the charmed, ever burning lanterns. She was nervous to make conversation, hearing his laboured breathing next to her under the weight of two boxes.

“So this is why Fred’s such a git?” She joked, “he’s lumped you with an extra box to carry?”

“Oh,” George said, obviously surprised by her observation. “I guess so,” he finished, trying but failing to hide how winded he was under two boxes. Still, he knew he had the stamina to get there, he and Fred had done this with four boxes on more than one occasion, so he was used to it. He decided not to share this with Francesca though, it was easier for her to think that was why he was cursing his brother.

“What’s in them anyway?” She asked.

“Uh, usual stuff,” George mused, “butterbeers, firewhiskey, all that sort of thing.

“Three boxes?” She pushed, worried about how big a party it was going to be since it was so close to the end of term.

“Oh no it’s only two for tonight” he told her. “This one is actually for me and Fred to take home,” he continued, gesturing to the one on his shoulder, “we want to experiment with them for sweets and mum would never let anyone buy alcohol for us at home.”

Francesca hummed her acknowledgment. She went to ascend the stairs but George stopped her.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Back to the common room?”

“Why? Didn’t we say the party’s going to be in the boathouse?”

Francesca just shook her head and took the step down to rejoin George on the floor.

“Come on, it’s this way,” he said walking past the stairs towards the incredibly dark corridor.

As both their hands were full, neither could pull out their wand to light the way. Seeing as they were back in Hogwarts grounds now that would’ve been the obvious answer to the darkness, but instead Francesca tried to extend her fingers into the darkness, to try and find George’s back.

“George?” She called out when she couldn’t feel him, on hear his footsteps in front of her.

“I’m here,” he answered, further ahead than she had imagined, and suddenly her footing felt a little less sure under her. “You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine, just, um,” Francesca wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t scared, exactly, just concerned she was going to trip. That was, until, she heard a thud much closer to her than she expected, and the knowledge of Sirius Black being sighted near the school, and still uncaught came flooding back to her. She let out a small squeak and tensed, then whispered, “what was that?”

“Me, silly,” said George, the smile in his voice, next to her again putting her back at ease. “Hold on, lumos.”

Suddenly the corridor was lit again, George washed in the pale white light of his wand. The edges of his hair were slightly stuck to his head from the exertion of carrying two boxes, the one he had been carrying in his hand now resting at his side. He quickly scanned her to make sure she was okay, and offered her a lopsided grin as he met her eyes again.

“Are you okay?” He asked, “here, let me take this from you,” he said, reaching for the box she still gripped in her arms.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” she said, a frown of confusion forming as the fear slipped away. “I thought you said it’s in the boathouse, why are we stopping here?”

“We can get Alicia and Fred to help us with these later, we can come down this way instead,” he explained, pushing the boxes to one side of the corridor. “You weren’t scared?” He asked with a wink.

Francesca chose to ignore his teasing question, choosing not to give his ego an opportunity to grow.

“Where does this passage open up to anyway?” She asked instead, leaning back against the wall, enjoying the freedom of their sneaking around, despite her earlier protests.

“You know the hatch where the spare oars are kept in the boathouse?” George answered.

“No?” She said back, not having spent much time in the boathouse since her first year. The group had had one other gathering down there, but she’d retraced the steps she’d taken at 11 years old, following the steps down to the lake outside the castle.

“Well there’s a false floor to it, and the steps are behind it,” he answered, standing up fully now, having arranged the boxes to be out of the way of anyone walking through. They both looked at each other in George’s wand-light, seemingly reluctant to leave the privacy of the corridor, but neither able to suggest a reason to prolong the venture. “Shall we head back?” George eventually asked.

Francesca nodded and they made their way back up towards the common room. By this time the few early risers of the students had descended upon the great hall for breakfast, so the need for vigilance wasn’t there. They still kept close together as they walked in a comfortable but somehow still awkward silence. That is until George’s hand accidentally brushed against her’s and after the beat where he thought he might have died of embarrassment, he quickly scrambled to distract them both from the incident.

“We’re back before lessons start, do you want to get some breakfast before we go up to the common room?” He asked, sounding more like one jumbled word than a whole sentence. Francesca didn’t answer, still a little flustered from the hand touch, wondering if he did it on purpose. He decided to take her silence as a sign that, at least, she wasn’t against it, and in a feat of huge bravery or stupidity (George himself wasn’t sure what), seized her hand and pulled her towards the Great Hall.

He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to holding her hand today, especially since it caused such an uncomfortable reaction within him. He had realised he held feelings for her, sure, but he had also decided now wasn’t the right time to act on them, if ever.

Francesca was confused. George had been unusually tense all morning. It was the first time in a while that they had properly been able to hang out just the two of them since her relationship with Cormac ended, and things were not so weird the last time. Despite her protests against rule breaking, she was disappointed they were back before the start of lessons and she was running out of an excuse to spend the day with him, so she let him pull her to get some breakfast.

Once they were sat with some food, the tension diffused again and the air became more natural between them.

“Will you still bunk off and hang with us today now?” He asked, slightly muffled by the slice of toast in his mouth. “We got back early enough for lessons, in case you still want to be a teachers pet today.”

“I have transfiguration first thing,” she responded, considering her options. “McGonagall chooses the Gryffindor prefects.”

“Ah,” George said, munching another bite of toast, not trying to hide his disappointment. “So you won’t come?”

“I can maybe play sick in front of her,” she considered, “if I can convince her I’m sick enough to need rest but not Madam Pomfrey, she probably won’t check on me. I can head back to the dorms and sneak out after a while?”

George perked up, feeling proud of his friend’s rule-breaking ideas.

“That’d work,” he told her. “I can even come get you so you don’t need to struggle counting every draping for the passageways!”

“I definitely wouldn’t remember,” she lied, having made a point to pay attention to the route they had taken that morning. “So that would help a lot.”

“Morning,” Fred drawled, sounding very cocky as he approached where they were sat at the Gryffindor table. “How are we?”

Fred seated himself next to George and waggled his eyebrows at the two of them.

“Fine,” Francesca answered, squinting her eyes at him. “Despite being a man down because of you being a lazy git, we got the boxes from Hogsmeade no problem.”

She took a mug and got distracted making herself a cup of tea, and missed Fred’s confused look at his brother. George gave him a look that Fred immediately knew meant say a single word and I will never forgive you. It was definitely a twin thing though, because when Francesca looked up she snorted, thinking George was telling Fred off for abandoning them.

“It’s fine though,” she continued, oblivious. “See? We even made it back before lessons!” She stood up then, picking up a slice of toast to take back with her. “Speaking of, I’d better go get changed and do something to make it really look like I’m sick if I’m going to be excused from classes, see you later.”

After she had gone, Fred gave George a shove, who was staring into his now empty cup of orange juice.

“What the hell George?!”

“Fred, please-“

“No! It was the perfect time, what happened?”

George turned to his brother and took a deep breath as if he was about to speak, but it just turned into a sigh when he couldn’t find any words.

“I’m still not sure it’s the right thing to do Freddie,” he spoke, turning back to his breakfast. “I don’t know if we’re better off as friends.”

Fred gave his brother another shove at these words, in disbelief his twin was lacking in so much confidence.

“We’re all rooting for you two, how can all your friends be wrong?”

“Fred please, just leave it and let me figure it out on my own,” George said, avoiding the question and standing up. “Look I’m knackered from being up so early, I’m going to sleep for a bit, wake me when Alicia’s done with her exam will you? Fran said she’d find a way to bunk off and join us later, so don’t leave without her.”

And with that, George left his dumbfounded brother and went back up towards the Gryffindor common room.

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley imagine #george weasley x oc #george weasley x fem #george weasley fluff

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