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miekasa · 3 years

Note

M-mie could we get some athlete boyfriend eren hcs too if you don’t mind, please and thank you😩

He is: my boyfriend, and I love him dearly. Perfect amount of himbo and athlete without being a jock, everybody give it up for Eren for being my dream boy <3

Eren plays sports year round, with the exception of maybe one or two winter seasons, just because his school/work/home life was too busy for athletics at those times. Otherwise, he’s always go something to practice for: soccer in the fall, hockey in the winter, and his choice of baseball or basketball in the spring.

He’s not a varsity athlete; that is, he’s not “committed” to any one team, so he’s not tied to playing one sport every year, nor are his academics linked to his athletics, or vice versa. He’s just a pretty athletic guy, and he’s got a lot of energy, and he enjoys sports, so naturally he plays whenever he can.

As it turns out, it does help him with his academics. Knowing he’s got practice the majority of the week forces Eren into building a schedule that prioritizes both schoolwork and sports so he can enjoy them equally. It teaches him to be independent in a way that he wasn’t expecting, but he’s come to really love.

And because he loves it, he doesn’t mind working hard for it. Liking the way he’s set it up for himself encourages him to do his best in both areas. It’s really just good for him all around: a good outlet fo his energy, a good way to spend his time, a good way to keep his grades in check, and a good way to keep himself comfortably happy and busy.

His appetite is insatiable, so it’s only dramatized when playing sports. He takes the all you can eat in all you can eat sushi a little too seriously.

The thing is… he’s a shit cook, too, so it’s not like he’s meal prepping to make sure he’s satisfying his appetite. He just buys a shit ton of food whenever he’s hungry. He’s always asking you if you wanna grab food, and part of it is to ensure that you’re eating—not as much as him, but eating nonetheless—but part of it is that he just likes sharing meals with someone.

He also doesn’t like to eat alone, so even if you only have your ten California rolls to his forty six spicy tuna rolls, that’s fine; he just wants the company.

That’s also why even if you say you’re not hungry, he’ll drag you out to eat with him anyway. And you’ll probably get fed some of his food even if you don’t order anything and insist that you’re not hungry because, “It’s really good, baby, just try it—just one bite, it’s okay I’ve got plenty left!”

He usually keeps a few granola bars and chips and other snacks of his liking on him. But because of Eren’s nature, he keeps them on you, too: in your car, in your backpack, in your apartment/dorm. You’ll meet him after class and he’ll kinda just start walking behind you, and you realize he’s opening your backpack, and you don’t even have time to question him before he’s pulling a bar out of the smallest pocket with a smile and munching on it.

Sometimes you come home and see his little protein shakes in your fridge. You definitely didn’t put them there, but you don’t move them, either. When you stock up on more when they’re running low, Eren contemplates marrying you.

If it’s been a hard week of practice or school, he tends to get sleepy when studying (usually when studying for his least favorite class, no coincidence there). He’ll close his laptop, put his hood up, and scooch his chair closer to yours before leaning his head on your shoulder.

He gets increasingly clingier the longer he naps; hand wrapping around your waist, nose poking at your neck. He’s not so subtly trying to hint that he wants you to quit studying and take him home to cuddle instead. If you don’t get the message, expect him to shut your laptop for you.

When you protest, Eren just looks at you with pouty lips and tired eyes, “Chemistry sucks anyway. Wanna nap, and also wanted you to do that thing with your hands when you massage my back for me.” (He then promptly falls asleep mid-massage on your bed).

He’s actually got a waiver to see a physical massage therapist because of how frequently he’s exercising. On occasion, he goes, but he claims he likes your massages much better. Also because he’s hesitant about a stranger touching him and once he moaned when the guy was working on his back and Eren swears it was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

He doesn’t get upset if you can’t make it to every game, but he does like it when you show up. Gets all cheesy and cocky with his arm around your shoulder, going on about how, “You’re my good luck charm, baby. I play better when you’re watching, you know?”

He has so much team clothing, from sweats to hoodies to t-shirts to socks. All he asks is that you wear something on game days, even if you can’t be there to support him while he’s playing. And that you keep one or two things for yourself anyway. He’ll put them in your closet for your if you don’t take them yourself <2

Because seeing you in his hoodie is always great, but his team hoodies are extra special, because they’ve got his name and his number on them. Whenever you’re wearing one, he trails just a half step behind you so he can see JAEGER printed on your back while you walk. Something about you wearing his last name around is… enticing, to say the least.

Even if it’s not the clothes branded with his name, Eren’s got a thing for you in sweats and/or workout clothes, so he’ll toss them at you whenever you sleep over. He’s always handsy, even if you’re just wearing an Under Armour shirt with the school’s logo on it; the material of it, and knowing that it’s his just makes him want to keep his hands on you.

Truthfully, he doesn’t workout all that much outside of practice. Occasionally, he’ll go to the gym with some of his teammates if they need a buddy, or go himself to stretch or take one of the free classes, but he doesn’t have a strict schedule for it. If you go to the gym, he’ll follow you if you ask, tho.

Turns out something that he does like is yoga. He’s not particularly flexible lmfao, but the stretching helps with muscle pain and tension, and he kinda finds the whole atmosphere of it relaxing. He’s still not so great at the meditation part of it, but he’s getting there.

(Actually, it’s pretty cute because on Tuesday and Thursdays, the yoga classes at the gym on campus are open-level and beginner friendly. That’s when the majority of the athletes show up, and you see people like Eren, Jean and Connie holding tree pose in the back room).

This, of course, makes him think that couples yoga is a great idea. Let’s just say, you’re lucky that Eren is strong enough to catch you and has sharp reflexes, because he’s certainly not the most balanced partner for this activity.

Game days are fun for him, and usually even if his team loses, he’s still so pumped up on adrenaline that he’s pretty happy. He only gets moody if he thinks the other team is playing dirty, or the refs are unfair, or he’s just been in a bad mood because of something that happened in his personal life; sports are an outlet for him, not his drive in life, so losing a game doesn’t take a huge toll on him.

Usually, even if he is upset about something personal, he’s able to funnel it into his game play. Small things used to make his whole sportsmanship sour, but overtime, he’s really gotten better at using his energy to fuel the right things. However, one thing that makes him foul (emotionally and literally; as in he might foul out of a game), is if he’s been fighting with you.

Sometimes it works in his favor—using the game as outlet, like usual—but it goes south pretty quickly. Because instead of using his aggression in a productive way, he gets distracted and easily pissed off, and it’s no good for anybody, especially himself. Because if he fouls out, or the coach takes him out for doing too much, then he can’t play; and if he can’t play then all that pent up frustration has no where to go; and then he’s forced to just sit with himself and his thoughts, but usually he starts deflecting and telling everyone else to piss off. Truly a no good, very bad box he’s put himself in.

You guys don’t fight that often, and it’s rare that it drags out for an extended amount of time when you do; but as with any relationship, it can happen. And when it does happen, if Armin doesn’t get to you first, expect one of Eren’s teammates to come groveling at your feet.

Or, rather, two. Because when you and Eren were fighting for over two weeks about god knows what at this point, it was Connie and Jean who ambushed you in the library. Jean had some pride to keep, but Connie was practically begging you to make up with Eren: “Look, I know he’s probably the one who said or did something to piss you off, and I’m not saying you gotta forgive him, but please just talk to him. I can’t run anymore extra laps because of him, and it’s gonna be so embarrassing if we lose to a C-list team on Friday because Eren’s funking up everyone’s attitude. PLEASE!”

Jean is more interested in the tea between you guys, but he also wants Eren to go back to being his normal hotheaded self, and not his current moody self. “He’s been playing like a bitch baby all week, and I’m gonna knock his skull in if he doesn’t fucking get his act together,” Jean rolls his eyes, “So just show up on Friday, alright? Do it for me and Connie, at least.”

When Eren does see you in the crowd at the game, it’s not a Troy and Gabriella moment, but when he sees you he feels so much relief that he’s physically calmer and way more mentally relaxed—because at this point Eren wasn’t even mad, he was just scared you might break up with him, and that fear brought out the worst in him. Seeing you in the stands, even if you didn’t wanna speak to him, was reassurance that you still gave a damn about him, and that was motivation enough.

He rushes to you after the game, wanting to make sure you don’t get swept away or leave with your friends. He’s smiling and so happy to finally see you that he almost forgets that you’re mad with him; hugging you and grinning ear to ear. When the reality kicks in, he kinda steps back at bit and rubs at his neck, embarrassed, but at least he knows he still has a chance to make things right with you.

(When you do make up, you’re surprised to find flowers and $10 coupon for your favorite pizza place in your mailbox a few days later. They’re from Connie, and his poorly handwritten note thanks you for “saving the team” and “curbing Eren’s temper).

#anonymous #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #he is... my BOYFRIEND !!!!!!!!!!!!!!#MY FUCKEN BOYFRIEND !!!!!!!! MY BABEYYYYYYYYYYY #eren fluff #eren smut

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loveazumane · 3 years

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— 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚.

summary: here’s a small head canon of how i think the karasuno team act when they’re in love

warnings: none. pure cavity giving fluff. gn!reader.

note: help, this was a pain in the butt to tag. anyway, this is based on how i view the guys. i hope u enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈. daichi’s very vocal and physical when he shows his love. in the morning, the first thought he has is to get ready so he can pick you up on your way to walk to school. he does the little things such as opening the doors for you, holding your bags, tying your shoes, and taking off a leaf that has fallen on your head. before you part, he kisses your cheek and tells you to have a nice day and he expresses how much he loves you. when you both meet again, he asks how your day was and if anything eventful has happened. most of all, he listens. he lets you speak no matter how long it is, and he can’t get enough of your voice. all the while, a soft smile is on his face and he finds tranquility with the way your eyes crease when you smile and go on about how wonderful your day was.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐀. suga does everything he can to show you that he loves you because he wants you to know. he doesn’t outright say it, but he does so much that makes it obvious. when you say you have back pain, he buys you massaging oils and pain killers and comes over to ease your muscles. when you say you’re thirsty and forgot your water bottle, from then on, he always brings an extra just in case you forget again. if you’re feeling cold because you didn’t get a sweater, suga gets you one and packs it in his bag in case you’re ever cold again. sugawara helps you with everything and anything, no matter how difficult it would be for him to achieve. the only time he really voices out he loves you is when you need to hear it from him, and he doesn’t mind at all because he has no shame in expressing how much he loves you.

𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐇𝐈. asahi treats you like you’re fragile, even though he knows you’re strong. when it’s raining out, he takes out an umbrella and holds it more over you than himself. when the sun is too hot, he takes out something to fan you so you don’t break a sweat. when you both walk out on the street, he’d nervously take your hand in his so he can have you close with him at all times. asahi, no matter how long you’ve been together, will always stutter or have a hushed voice when he tells you he loves you. at certain occasions, he’d get anxious about you falling out of love to which he begins to do things much more excessively. asahi services you more so than he does himself, and to express how much he cares about you, he loves to pamper you.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀. tanaka would yell on top of a roof about how much he loves you. when he sees you, his heart races and it feels like it would jump out of his chest. he would sweep the floors you walk on, kiss you everywhere on the face, and protect you from anyone. he’d always have you close by your side, and when he gets very protective, he expresses that it’s because he wouldn’t know what to do if something bad happens. tanaka would never want to see you cry or frowning, and when he does, he does everything he can to cheer you up even if it makes himself look stupid in the process.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐀. just like tanaka, nishinoya would be very similar. however, he’d be much more boisterous and loud and express to everyone that you’re his beautiful lover. noya would express how much he loves you vocally without a limit. if you feel insecure about how you look, he’d immediately come to defense about how it was the most perfect and flawless part of you. he would kiss you in the places you hated, making sure that you’re reminded that every part of you is perfect the way it is. in his eyes, you’re the most beautiful being in the world, and nothing can change that.

𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀. ennoshita is much more gentle with you once he’s in love. similar to daichi, before he parts with you, he bids you a good day and quickly kisses you on the lips, and once you meet again, he asks if your day has been well. ennoshita loves spending time more than anything else. he invites you to his place very often, or asks if you can go to his volleyball games/practices, just so he can be comforted by your presence. he enjoys the time he has with you and cherishes it as the most precious thing in the world. it could be as simple as sitting down in silence, watching a movie, and his heart is filled with glee. his love for you isn’t too obvious and he knows this. to cure your wondering mind if he was still infatuated with you, he’d write a little note and tuck it in your hand so when you walk away and read, you would smile at the words “i will always love you” written in neat handwriting.

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀. when kinoshita’s in love, he expresses it without outright saying it. he enjoys to cheer you on when you feel unmotivated. he enjoys to kiss you on your cheek and tell you that you’re doing great when you feel discouraged. he enjoys to help you with things such as homework, cleaning, and even paying for your meals. kinoshita always reassures you with anything, especially when it’s heavy on your mind. he could never let you be so negative, and when you can’t believe in yourself, you at least know that he would be there to believe in you.

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀. narita, before loving you, was calm and collected and could never waver. however, when he’s in love, the simplest things he used to do became one of the most hardest things. greeting you hello felt simple, but now he’d flush and shyly say it. holding your hand always made his palms sweaty. kissing you always made his ears glow a bright red. he’s unsure why you have such an uncanny effect over him, but the only way it calms is when he says he loves you. saying it, no matter how many times, always felt so new to him. he adores you so much that it makes him anxious if he does something subtly wrong. he wants to impress you and he does so by stepping out of his comfort zone, and he often does it when you’re around.

𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀. kageyama doesn’t really realize he��s in love with you until someone points it out, but gosh it’s so obvious that you can’t really help but wonder how he didn’t realize it himself in the first place. kageyama blushes when he hears your name called. his heart skips a beat when he sees you and he tenses up and stares in awe. tanaka has once or twice told him to close his mouth or he’ll catch flies whenever he’s gawking. once kageyama comes to the realization that he loves you, he tries to do things normally, but he can’t. he always gets so shaken up and nervous when he sees you cheering him on in the stands that he occasionally misses a serve. he always sweats profusely when you hold his arms as you walk down the street. most of the time, he isn’t conscious of the way he stares at you when you’re doing something as normal as eating. his expression is so dreamy whenever he looks at you that his eyes speak volumes when it comes to saying he loves you.

𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀. hinata, almost like kageyama, doesn’t realize he loves you. he just knows that you give him the same feeling volleyball does; excitement, determination, eagerness, passion, etc. he talks so much about you to everyone, even if it doesn’t correlate with you at all. someone could mention that they had carrots as snacks and hinata would blurt, “y/n had carrots as snacks this morning too!” even when he’s around you, he wants to let you know that he wants to see you support him when he plays volleyball. he goes on and on about how much he loves seeing you in the stands and how pretty you would look in his jersey. he can’t stop. amongst normal conversation, the words “i love you” would unintentionally slip up, but he doesn’t even realize it.

𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈. yamaguchi would be hopelessly in love. he’d do anything for you and treat you better than you could ever imagine. there’s not a chance that he’d leave your side, even if someone tried to pry him away. he enjoys listening to you talk, and whenever you both speak up at the same time, he encourages you to talk first. yamaguchi, when he’s in love with you, would constantly ask if you needed anything and come to your rescue when you did. he’d fix you a bento box without you asking, he’d buy you your favorite drink even when you didn’t want it, and he’d shower you with gifts at any chance he got. most of all, his expression brightens up whenever he sees you; his eyes twinkle and his smile grows—he just can’t contain the amount of serotonin that boils up in his body.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀. tsukishima has a hard time expressing his love when it comes to talking, so it’s hard to tell whether or not he’s actually in love with you. however, though he won’t admit it, tsukishima would think about you constantly. sometimes, he’d daze off during practice and mess up because his mind is clogged with you. when he sees you, he loves to make snarky remarks, but doesn’t do too much that’ll hurt your feelings. to express his love, tsukishima creates a mix tape of songs that reminds him of you and he gifts it to you when it’s your birthday. he doesn’t say anything, only hands it over and says that’s all he can ever afford, but even thought it’s small, it means so much to him. rarely does he say he loves you, but when he does, he gets a bit flustered and red faced and says, “don’t let it get into your head too much, idiot,” and it’s enough to warm your heart.

𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙘𝙚: unknown

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

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dance me to the end of love (ii)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fem!oc, alcohol consumption, cursing

series masterpost: here

a/n: part two baby! thanks for all the love on part one, it means the absolute world. i have so much love for this story and i hope people are enjoying it :))

Life is settling into a comfortable rhythm.

After spending a good chunk of her young adult life being incredibly studious, Magdalene can finally have the social life of someone in their mid-twenties. Though she’s still spending a fair amount of time by herself in the basements of the University of Denver’s library, Bette convinces her to go out more. Magdalene tries to fight, citing extra work or a good book as an excuse to stay home, but it doesn’t work very often. The pleas of her friend are how Magdalene finds herself currently lounging poolside at Erik Johnson’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

“How’s the new career treating you?” Tyson asks. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while.”

Magdalene laughs. “I’ve seen Bette plenty,” she says, “She thinks I won’t take a lunch break unless she shows up.”

“Would you?” the blonde girl questions with a quirked brow.

“Probably not.”

“I rest my case.”

A small crowd gathers around as Magdalene begins to detail the specifics of her job, but she doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as she once would have. In the month or so since graduating school she’s found herself slowly being incorporated into the Avalanche family. It’s almost certainly because Bette and Tyson championed her case, explaining that she doesn’t have much of a support system beyond the two of them, but she doesn’t mind. A few of the guys ask her questions about her work, curious as to why someone would want to spend their life combing through piles of old things. Everyone stays engaged in the conversation until there’s a shout from the kitchen that dinner is ready.

Magdalene shuffles in line behind André, filling her plate with various pasta salads and a hamburger. Once situated with enough food for two meals she returns to the pool deck, sitting on the edge and dipping her toes into the cool water. Bette comes and finds her a minute later and the two of them begin to eat.

She’s still relatively new to the group’s dynamic, but Magdalene can’t help but notice that Ryan is never around. In fact, Magdalene hasn’t seen him since her graduation party. Taking a casual sip of her wine cooler, she asks her friend about the man’s absence.

“Why is Ryan never at these sorts of things?”

Bette shrugs. “Isn’t a huge one for parties. He was supposed to come today, but I guess something came up.”

“I’m not huge on parties,” Magdalene huffs, “But that doesn’t stop you from dragging me to every single one.”

“Unlike you, Gravy gets enough regular social interaction that his absence is permissible. If Tyson and I didn’t take you out you’d talk to your cat more than normal.”

She wants to fight back, but knows it’s pointless. Bette has a point – if it weren’t for her the only people Magdalene would interact with are her boss and her cat. Instead, she grumbles under her breath and changes the subject to the trip Bette is in the middle of planning. It’s coming up in a few weeks, and Magdalene wants to hear a bit more about it before she commits. Despite what she thought about taking time off so close to starting work, it was encouraged by June, but she's refraining from telling Bette that. If it doesn’t sound like she'll enjoy it, Magdalene is banking on being able to use the excuse.

Bette explains that she’s renting a large lake house that is perfect for a relaxing week away from adult responsibilities. The property has kayaks and a hot tub, which pretty much ensures that Magdalene will want to be in attendance. She’ll hold onto that information for a little while longer though, if for no other reason to make Bette squirm a little. At some point Tyson comes to sweep his girlfriend away and leaves Magdalene at the party alone. She makes polite conversation with some other players for a while before heading home herself. Ryan never shows up, despite how much Magdalene hopes he will. At the very least she wants to properly thank him for doing her a favour, though her hoping to see him is much more selfish. He intrigues her and she wants to know more about the tall man with the dazzling smile and a proclivity for wearing all black.

☼☼☼☼

Barn Owl Book Company is filled to the brim when Magdalene approaches the store from the side street it annexes. She should’ve expected it – it’s the first of the month and their newest books are hitting the shelves. However, Magdalene doesn’t exactly have time to wait in line. June gave her only fifteen minutes to run and grab them coffee before they continue the massive task of digitizing a private collection that has just been donated to the university. She estimates it will take almost a month of extended hours to get everything done, and Magdalene believes it. There’s so much to wade through but she knows the end result will be satisfying.

Luckily the café line is fairly short, and Magdalene reaches the counter in a timely manner. “Hey,” she greets the barista warmly, “Could I just grab two medium iced cappuccinos?”

“Anything else?”

“No, that's everything. It’ll be on debit,” she smiles. Magdalene reaches into her backpack to grab her wallet only to find that it’s missing. Shit. The barista has already left to make the drinks, completely unaware that her customer is unable to pay.

Magdalene hears a voice from behind her say, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.” She turns around to find Ryan Graves standing there with a book tucked under his right arm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she mumbles appreciatively. “I don’t know how my boss would take it if I showed up empty handed.”

Ryan laughs shyly as he pulls his card away from the machine. “I get it, everyone needs a little caffeine this time of year.” The barista comes back with Magdalene’s drinks, which she takes with a smile and a wish for a good day. The two of them head towards the exit, and Ryan pauses once they’re on the sidewalk. “Which way are you headed?”

“Back to work,” Magdalene says, nodding her head in the direction of campus. “I’ve got approximately five minutes to get there before June rips me a new one.”

“June?”

“She’s my boss,” she explains.

Ryan nods in understanding. “I’ll see you around Magdalene,” he smiles, turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction.

In a moment of bravery, Magdalene yells at his retreating figure. “Will you? We never seem to cross paths.”

“I’ll be at Bette and Tyson’s this weekend, and I’m counting on your company.”

Magdalene finds it incredibly hard to focus the rest of the afternoon. She keeps thinking about what Ryan said, which makes her a rather lousy archivist. June sends her home just after seven even though they had plans to stay until ten, citing the fact that she’s scanned the same photo three times before noticing. Caligula’s meowing for pets when she gets home isn’t even enough to distract her from the comment. The absentmindedness continues for another day or so, and it’s becoming so bad Magdalene is worried that June is going to fire her for incompetence.

It’s only when Bette calls to invite her over for dinner and drinks that her mind levels out. “I was wondering when I was going to get the call,” she chuckles absentmindedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” is the response Magdalene receives.

“Well,” she explains, “I ran into Ryan at Barn Owl the other day and he paid for my drinks because I left my wallet on the table at work, and he said he expected to see me at your place this weekend. So if you never invited me I was just going to show up.”

Bette is smiling, that much Magdalene can infer by the lull in conversation. “I haven’t got the time to call you yet,” she concedes, “But consider this the official invitation to our house for a small party.”

“Anything we’re celebrating?”

“Nope. Have you ever needed a reason to party?”

Magdalene laughs. “Yes. Need one almost every time actually.”

The rest of the week passes fairly quickly. To make up for her blundering earlier in the week Magdalene offers to work a full day on Saturday, by herself, to get the project back on track. June accepts the proposition eagerly, and Magdalene lets Bette know she’ll be coming directly from work. Saturday rolls around and she spends most of her time getting lost in the past lives of the artefacts she’s dealing with. If someone were to ask Magdalene what her favourite part of archiving is, that’s the answer she’d give. There’s nothing more satisfying to her than holding a piece of history in her hands and imagining all the stories it would be able to tell if it could speak.

By the time she’s put in a full work day and finishes locking up the basement floor her department occupies, Magdalene is pretty sure they’re ahead of schedule on the project. She genuinely feels terrible about her misperformance and hopes June will be able to forgive her. On the way to Bette and Tyson’s Magdalene listens to the Leonard Cohen greatest hits cd that came with her car. The previous owner was presumably a big fan, and over the years Magdalene has come to appreciate the folk singer. She never got to see him in concert before his death but turns to his music when she needs to relax. Right now is the perfect time to listen to ‘Hallelujah’ on repeat because she’s seriously freaking out about the idea of spending the night talking to Ryan. Though she still wants to properly thank him and possibly become friends, something about him makes Magdalene nervous.

There’s no way for her to tell if Ryan is there when she parks in front of the house. She doesn’t know what kind of car he drives, or if he caught a ride with someone. Magdalene debates texting Bette to see if he’s there already but decides against it, knowing she’s an adult who is more than capable of pushing down nerves.

She doesn’t bother knocking and just steps into the respectably sized home. The music is loud enough that no one would have heard her anyways. It’s much more of a party than Magdalene was expecting – Bette invited her for dinner and drinks, not a gathering that could pass as a frat party. There are bodies everywhere, and she isn’t sure if she’ll ever catch a glimpse of her friend.

“You seem to be dressed for the wrong kind of party,” a voice chuckles from behind her.

Magdalene turns to see Ryan leaning against the wall, eyeing her business casual attire. “I came from work,” she explains, “And didn’t know it was this kind of party to begin with. I would’ve at least brought a change of clothes.”

“You look terribly out of place,” he agrees. “Can I grab you a drink? The hosts are too busy playing beer pong to, you know, be hosts.”

A giggle escapes Magdalene’s lips at the comment. Ryan seems to have a similar sense of humor to her, which will be beneficial for passing the time if Bette is already on her way to being wasted. “A glass of red wine would be nice.”

Ryan pushes off from his perch and heads towards the kitchen. The crowd parts for the six-foot-five hockey player, and Magdalene follows in his wake quite easily. Knowing the space as well as her, Ryan grabs a wine glass from the cupboard Bette keeps them in and pours the dark red liquid into it. He waits until Magdalene has situated herself on the island before handing her the cup. She takes it with an appreciative hum and waits until he’s grabbed a beer for himself before raising her glass in toast. Ryan does the same, and their glasses clink before each of them take a sip.

“What exactly is it that you do? I bet it’s something super cool and studious, but I seriously don’t know what the hell being an archivist means.”

Magdalene explains her job to Ryan, who is extremely interested. He asks nearly a hundred follow-up questions that she answers sincerely, throwing in a few jokes that luckily crack him up. Conversation moves to his career and then life. Magdalene learns that he’s from Nova Scotia, though he stays around Denver these days, and that if he wasn’t playing professional hockey he’d like to have a career in publishing. Ryan doesn’t press too hard when Magdalene refuses to open up about her family, which she appreciates. It’s a delicate subject that she keeps guarded close to her chest, and a friend’s kitchen in the middle of a party isn’t the place for her to divulge her deepest secrets.

The two of them get refills before exiting the room. Even more people seemed to arrive since Magdalene walked through the door, and the kitchen is no longer an empty safe haven. The music is so loud she can feel the bass thumping in her chest, giving the living room a club-like atmosphere, and it’s too much. Magdalene tugs at the hem of Ryan’s sweater to catch his attention. “Want to go somewhere quiet?”

“I doubt there is such a place,” he yells over the crowd going crazy over some early 2000s hip-hop track.

“Follow me,” she says with a smile, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the staircase to the second floor.

It takes a minute for them to wade through the throngs of people, but it goes much faster once Ryan takes Magdalene’s hand and splits the crowd. A few boys, who don’t look older than twenty-one and almost certainly snuck into the party, notice where the pair are going and shout congratulations. Ryan shoots them a glare so sharp it could cut stone but doesn’t drop Magdalene’s hand. Once safely on the much quieter second floor, Magdalene makes a beeline for the bathroom.

“Are you coming or what?” she asks when there doesn’t seem to be footsteps following her.

Ryan hesitates. “I, uh, can just wait out here while you’re in there,” he stammers.

Magdalene’s laugh rings out through the empty hallway. “I’m not going to the bathroom. We’re going out the window.”

He isn’t sure how that’s any better, but Ryan follows the brown-haired girl into the room. It takes considerably more work for him to fit through the frame, but after some directions from Magdalene he makes it onto the roof. She sits down and pats the space beside her, encouraging Ryan to do the same. They stay out there, discussing anything that comes to their heads, until the party’s numbers dwindle drastically. Magdalene makes sure to properly thank him for both attending her graduation and spotting her coffee money, and she thinks Ryan might blush a little when she offers to get the next round. He asks about her love of The West Wing, and they launch into a long conversation about the show and cast. The sun fades to black and the cold sets in, and Magdalene finds herself wrapped in Ryan’s sweater without asking. It’s only when she notices it’s approaching midnight that Magdalene clues into how tired she is.

“I think I’m going to head out,” she yawns. Ryan nods in agreement and holds the window open for her to slip in through. Once downstairs, Magdalene goes to lift the sweater from her frame but Ryan stops her.

“Keep it for drive home. I’ll get it back next time we see each other.”

Still feeling bold from the alcohol that left her system hours ago, she reaches out to poke him in the chest. “And when will that be, hm? You seem to enjoy leaving our meetings up to chance.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh. “Think you can swing an extended lunch break on Wednesday? I’ll be at Barn Owl all afternoon. Maybe you can join me for a coffee.”

Magdalene likes the sound of that and agrees. She leaves without seeing Bette or Tyson once, but she doesn’t mind. They’d be happy for her blooming friendship – or at least she’s pretty sure they will be once she calls to fill them in on the details.

☼☼☼☼

Wednesday rolls around without incident, and Magdalene is given a full hour to eat instead of thirty minutes. Walking time has to be accounted for, of course, but she should have nearly forty-five minutes to spend with Ryan if she plays her cards right. There’s no crowd this time, and it’s incredibly easy to spot Ryan sitting in the window she loves to claim as her own.

“Hey,” Magdalene greets, “Did Bette tell you to sit here?”

He shakes his head, perplexed at the question. “No, why?”

“It’s just my favourite seat in the store, that’s all. I thought she told you how to gain some extra brownie points.”

“Should I be concerned about the amount of points I have?” Ryan teases, sliding a cup and pastry bag across the table and into her hands.

Magdalene shakes her head, smiling widely. “You’re doing alright so far. Keep up the good work.”

They eat at a comfortable pace, taking breaks to engage in interesting topics of conversation or take sips of their drinks. Ryan insists his life is boring, but Magdalene is enthralled by the stories he tells. It’s completely different from hers and she feels as though she can live vicariously through the tales of walking through the historic downs of the east coast and swimming in the Pacific Ocean on days off in California. After squeezing every story possible from the man Magdalene shifts gears slightly.

“So, are you going on the trip in a couple of weeks?”

“It’s looking that way,” Ryan shrugs with relative indifference, “Nate doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back, something about a development camp he’s running having the dates switched. He’s asked me to take his spot.”

His neutral mood confuses her. When Bette mentioned his probable attendance months ago, it sounded like he was enthusiastic about spending a week with friends doing nothing to swimming and drinking. “You don’t want to go?” Magdalene probes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but sometimes the group parties a little harder than I like to,” he sighs, raising a hand and running it through his hair. That’s something she understands completely, having spent a few too many nights being the sober one out.

“I’ll be there.” It’s Magdalene’s turn to shrug, but the comment holds an incredible amount of hope.

“Well then, that changes everything.”

Was Ryan flirting with her? She spends the rest of lunch thinking about the possibility, and truthfully, it occupies her brain for the rest of the day. However, she keeps her focus and June is none the wiser to the butterflies in her stomach. Work finishes without much fanfare, and her dinner is silent save for the few meows of conversation Caligula offers. It’s late by the time Magdalene falls into bed, cat snuggled into the pillow beside her. On a whim she decides to check Instagram and sees a message request from none other than the man who’s smile has been replaying in her mind. A follow request accompanies it.

Thought that maybe we could quit leaving our meetings to chance and plan something next time :)

He has to be flirting. There’s no other explanation for the witty banter they’ve shared this week, or why he’s reaching out to her on social media. The butterflies in her stomach multiply tenfold as Magdalene types out a reply.

I don’t know, it’s kind of fun being shrouded in mystery. However, I now have the opportunity to stalk your profile ;)

Before she can overthink her use of the emoji, Magdalene shoves her phone in the drawer of her nightstand and rolls over. A slight smile can’t help but appear on her features as she falls asleep, already curious about what his reply will be.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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horselessheadperson · 2 years

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In february of 2021, I was absolutely decked by burnout. At the time, I was working a pretty high-powered sales job. We had to share our sales results continuously in a WhatsApp group chat - I still panic when I see WhatsApp green on a cellphone monitor. Our boss was relatively strict about keeping to working hours and taking breaks, which was good - and necessary, since she was fighting rising absenteeism - but we were always in competition, always pushing, always using an absolutely absurd amount of emoji every time we sold x amount of post its, or - as was all the rage at the time - wildly overpriced surgical masks for workplace use. We were never told why they were overpriced, we made up a reason on the spot depending on who we were talking to. We were, however, taught sales techniques to “convince” struggling local companies. (Since then, I’ve learnt a lot about burnout being caused by your work not aligning with your values. This phenomenon would explain why only 12 weeks on this job was enough to do me in.)

It absolutely destroyed me. The first sign was crying before and after work. Eventually I dropped my hours. Then I quit. This was not at all popular - I was a very talented salesperson, exceeding my quota every day. I don’t have any particular passion for stationary. But it turns out I’m very good at selling it.

For a long time, I refused to admit I was really suffering. I’m still working on acceptance every day. I thought if I could just figure out why this happened, why I was too exhausted to eat three or even one square meal a day, I could just fix it. I’ve always been told I seemed smart, so I thought I should be able to work through this myself. I couldn’t, I still can’t, and it took me until recently to be OK with this. If you’re struggling with this: it’s normal that it’s hard. People are social animals. I consider myself a borderline recluse, and I still need help every day. Even if it’s just to be near someone else.

Anyway, to cut a very long story short: I’ve only been getting in touch with what I actually want and need very recently. A few months ago, I had gender-affirming surgery, which I haven’t kept a secret. It’s been life changing and I wish that kind of relief on everyone. It opened the door to recovery for me, even though I realise I’m still a long way out. As I’ve been able to get in touch more with what I actually want and enjoy I realised that social media just isn’t all that. Every time I want to do something creative, make something, write, think about something - the thought pops up: “what would be the best time to post about this?”

I have an absolutely negligible amount of followers and posts - just some people I know - and I already notice this has become a part of my daily life. I can’t imagine what it’s like for people who make a living off this. I’ve seen @alexi_lifts inspiring post about quitting social media for a month, and I have been following more inspiring accounts lately and cutting out the ones that were depressing, unrealistic, or just uncomfortable. I think social media can be a force for good, on an individual and a collectivist level, but I think this is in spite of what it is and not because of it. So this isn’t a “quitting socials” type post. Just thoughts. I’ll be posting once a month with some things I actually feel inspired and motivated by, instead of snippets throughout the day whenever I can manage - which isn’t often, and always somehow followed by a vague sense of guilt at not posting more. I want to be more mindful about what I make and share, instead of trying to market something while I’m still very much in active recovery. That said - I hope everyone has a lovely, peaceful day, enjoying the first fall storms. See you soon.

#burnout #autistic burnout #selfcare #mindfulness #inkdrawing #illustration #art

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

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BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (6)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START / PREV / NEXT

As predicted, the day following the seal’s application is miserable. His chest is tight with almost anxiety, pins and needles run up and down his arms making his skin itch, and he is increasingly lethargic. All symptoms of a chakra imbalance and to be expected when one’s normal chakra replacement rate was thrown out. The sensations would pass once his body adjusted as they had with his sharingan.

He is eating three square meals a day, doing the bare minimum when it came to exercise routines and avoiding excess chakra use. It had been literal years since he had had this much bed rest. If he were ever going to slap a chakra collecting seal on himself, this was a perfect time. Okay, so maybe he should have steadily increased the chakra drain over the course of a few weeks for a smoother adjustment period. Hindsight and all that.

What mattered was that he would be fine, and he just had to wait it out. Bright side? No one had commented on the seal yet. Oh, he has definitely noticed serval people throwing the odd confused frown at his shoulder, but that was as far as anyone had gone in acknowledging it. His oh so clever strategy of acting like nothing was wrong worked so much better when he wasn’t surrounded by other shinobi and medic-nin.

“Your blood pressure is still too high. Are you sure you haven’t been experiencing any additional fatigue or other symptoms? Is something about the hospital causing additional stress? If there is something wrong, we should work on strategies to fix the problem.”

Well… it worked on everyone who wasn’t Wada. The man was irritatingly persistent in his doctoring. Apparently, the pressure of adjusting to an increased chakra drain wasn’t doing his body any favours.

“Maybe it’s a part of my quirk. High regeneration. High blood pressure.” Kakashi shrugs loosely not bothering to look up from HEROES and HEROINES May Issue. Unlike his previous reading material, people gave him odd looks when they saw him reading these magazines which immediately upped their entertainment value 100-fold.

Wada undoes the compression sleeve he had been using to measure Kakashi’s blood pressure, lecturing as he goes, “From what I can tell your cells produce more energy-rich molecules, ATP, NADH, then is typical, increasing cellular functions. Where your cells are getting the energy to produce these molecules, I have no idea seeing as you eat about the same amount as any baseline human. What I can safely say is that it should not influence your blood pressure. If anything, your blood pressure should be a bit lower than average. Now don’t dodge the question.”

He pauses, waiting for Kakashi to cave and suddenly confess. Kakashi, an old hat at dodging medical questions, continues reading unperturbed.

“I’ve been at this for over 30 years. An attack like the one you suffered is understandably traumatic, not to mention the stress of severe amnesia. I’m sure, whatever is bothering you, I’ve heard it before.”

Kakashi very much doubts that. “I feel fine.”

Wada huffs, unconvinced, “Young men. You all think that admitting you have a problem is a sign of weakness. High blood pressure can damage your heart and lead to problems later in life so finding the cause is important.” Good thing a shinobi life spans tended to max out around 30. The odds of him making it to an age where he’d have to worry about the long-term effects of anything were pretty low. He doesn’t voice this opinion, continuing to read.

Wada continues talking with greater gusto, “No matter, I’ll prescribe you something for stress hopefully that’ll help with your blood pressure. However, this is no replacement for healthy habits both physical and mental. You should consider professional therapy.”

Kakashi snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you,” Wada makes to grab HEROES and HEROIENS and he lets the doctor pull the magazine free from his hand. It gives him a good view of the man’s irate expression.

“No, of course not.” Kakashi attempts to placate and gets a light smack over the head with said magazine for his troubles.

“There is no shame in pursuing a healthy mind!”

“Weren’t we going to test my quirk today?” He complains to derail the current line of questioning.

“I have half a mind to put it off and have you rest another week,” is threatened before Wada’s stern expression relaxes, “Lucky for you, I’ve booked you into serval tests that can’t be rescheduled.”

Kakashi breaths out dramatically. He thinks Wada might have made a good medic-nin if he had lived in Konoha. Sure, he is a little too trusting, but he was also not above pestering his patients into taking better care of themselves. Sakura would approve.

The doctor, with the assistance of an attending nurse he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, helps Kakashi out of his bed and into a wheelchair, ignoring his protests about his leg being all but healed.

“You’re to avoid putting weight on it until you start physical therapy,” Wada snaps at his continued complaints, “You’ll need to be careful, extended bed rest and surgery can leave your muscles weakened. Also, leave that magazine behind. You’re doing eye tests when do you think you’ll have time to read!”

Kakashi doesn’t push the matter further, resigning himself to being wheeled down the hospital halls like the invalid he was pretending to be. It is not like Wada knew about his frequent excursions to the roof or the fact that he has been running through strengthening exercises on his own time for several weeks now. Best he keeps that information to himself.

Partway down the hall, he pulls out HEROES and HEROIENS from where he had slipped it into his shirt, enjoying Wada’s exasperated expression. Of course, he stops reading when the doctor threatens to start lecturing again. The man could definitely talk when given the chance.

Wada and the nurse take wheel him to a set of double-door elevators which take them down several floors below the ground level. The hallway they exit of a mirror of every other hospital hallway. Grey and white walls, pale blue lino floor and bright fluorescent overhead lights. The only difference is that this hallway is lined with heavy-looking metal doors. From snooping through patient files, he knows that all quirk tests are carried out in specially designated underground ‘safety rooms.’ That doesn't make him any more thrilled about being several stories underground. It cut down on his escape roots.

“These are some of the more secure recovery wards in the hospital,” Wada explains as their little group stops at a small reception desk where the doctor taps away at a computer screen, “they’re mostly for treating patients with unstable quirks.” Kakashi maintains a neutral expression, accepting the explanation.

Wada wheels him up to a steel door, swiping his ID card which also doubled as a key to many areas of the hospital. The heavy door is automated and slides open. A lot of the doors in the hospital operate this way and always made sneaking around slightly more troublesome.

Inside walls and floor are plain white and there is an odd number of tables and chairs pushed to one side out of the way. Everything stinks of disinfectant. On the far wall is a single solitary painting of a tree in a field, the only splash of colour in an otherwise depressingly sparse room. A poor attempt at living up the space. The opposite wall sports a rectangular, reflective surface which was probably some sort of observation booth. Well, if being underground hadn’t put him on edge, this obvious confinement room definitely did the job. Kakashi eyes the space. Worse comes to worst, he could use the kamui and remove the adjoining hallway wall then climb his way out through the elevator shaft. There are only two other people in the room with him and one woman at the reception desk, all were most likely unenhanced with quirks unsuited to combat, easily removed. He doesn’t let his body language reflect his unease. He is just a little on edge because the new seal is messing with his body’s natural homeostasis. If this is a trap there would have been other signs of deception before now.

“Yes, I know it might seem like a whole lot of fuss just to run through a few flashcards,” Wada comments, oblivious to Kakashi’s poor mood. He waves to his assisting nurse who wheels over and lowers one of the metallic tables so Kakashi doesn’t have to move from his wheelchair. “But it’s a standard safety procedure when an unknown quirk is involved. Trust me, this is a lot easier than travelling to an external testing range.”

Wada stops to give Kakashi a once over, frowning, “How much do you know about your quirk sub-type?”

Kakashi shrugs, “Nothing much.”

“Ah,” The doctor’s frown grows, and he grimaces, “Of course you don’t.” A sigh.

“Typically, ocular quirks will act to enhanced sight in some way or improve base level memorisation and recall ability. It is also common to have a replicating function, allowing the user to produce some sort of copy of things they see. In rarer cases, ocular quirks result in precognitive abilities.” Wada explanation falters, “They can also have a line-of-sight emitter effect, such as laser vision, optical blasts, a few instances of mind control and other mental effects. These can also be incredibly dangerous if the user isn’t in control. There have even been instances where whole buildings have been levelled.”

“I see.” He supposes Wada's irritation at this private 'quirk' testing made a bit more sense. A doctor faced with an unknown and possibly dangerous ability would be annoyed if said patient went about experimenting without taking safety precautions.

“I should have checked whether you knew the dangers instead of just assuming. Apologies. That is my own error.”

He peers at Kakashi, almost guilty now, “and you don’t have a phone either so there would have been no way for you to research quirks yourself.”

“Ah,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head not likening how torn up the other man seems to be seeing as Kakashi had ever been in any real danger. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassures.

His reassurances land flat, the doctor still frowning, “I’ll see if I can get you access to the internet somehow.”

Privately, Kakashi adds 'research' to the list of functions ‘phones’ apparently provided and 'internet' to his growing list of terms to investigate.

Wada sighs again. “Regardless, let’s get these tests done first.” He places a thick folder labelled National Standard for Registration: Kit Type 3 alongside one of those portable keyboard-less computers the doctors tended to carry around. “Hold on, been a while since I’ve done one of these. Need to find the rights files. Ah, here we go. First, these rooms are monitored, and all tests are recorded. The data collected is confidential, accessible only to the patient and physician unless doing so causes the patent harm. Information regarding quirk function and use is shared with the Registry Office. You have a right to stop testing at any point. You got that?”

Kakashi grunts, his already poor mood souring further. He is not sure he wants the hospital - or anyone - keeping records of anything sharingan related.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wada continues unperturbed, a testament to his serval weeks of trying to doctor Kakashi, “remember to let me know if you’re experiencing any discomfort. Don’t want you busting anymore blood vessels.

Kakashi lets out a tired breath, “Sure.” The sooner they left this room the better.

“We’ll test memory and vision first to compare to your baseline, then we’ll run through the replication and precognitive tests just in case.”

The nurse, who had been on the opposite side of the room waves, “All ready over here.” There is now a large poster with letters of varying sizes hung on the wall. He recognises the chart from his previous eye tests.

“Okay, let’s start with just uncovering it. Make sure you’re looking away from me as a precaution.”

Kakashi resists rolling his non- sharingan eye at the obvious instruction, shifting his attention to the poster on the wall. He flips his padded eyepatch up with his index finger so it partially rests on his forehead. All the letters, no matter the size, immediately snap into sharp focus. Nothing spontaneously combusts under his gaze. When he glances at the painting of the tree, he can now see a lack of brush texture, suggesting that it wasn’t a painting but a print of some sort. With that useless information now forever etched into his memory, he turns back to examine at Wada.

The sharingan picks out all the wrinkles and pores lining the older face. It focuses in on minuscule muscle movements as the man’s expression shifts from professional and accommodating to curious. The doctor’s fingers twitch ever so slightly over his computer. Most likely an unconscious habit. The man’s breath is slightly uneven like his chest can’t smoothly expand, suggesting some sort of lung problem. A past smoking habit perhaps? Nothing threatening is revealed.

“Doctor.” Kakashi prompts when Wada spends a little too long staring back at him. The sharingun did have a weak hypnotic effect, encouraging extended eye contact to help catch targets in genjutsu. Kakashi rarely uncovered his eye in the presence of civilians so he doesn’t know if the effect is more pronounced or if Wada is just curious.

Wada blinks, “Well…I certainly see where the ‘wheel’ description comes from.” He spends a second more staring then turns to start writing notes and tapping away at his computer screen. “I wonder if those spinning tomoe are purely cosmetic or if they have some other function because they are certainly fascinating to look at. There is also faint bioluminescence to the eye which is a common feature of ocular quirks…”

Honestly, the blatant eye contact is weird. Even his closest allies tended to avoid looking at his sharingan out of habit - expect for Naruto who was an outlier in almost everything - for understandable reasons. He thinks the people here would also exercise caution if an ocular abilities included mind control or exploding a person through eye contact. But no, Wada just goes right ahead and stares. A few seconds later and the unnamed nurse is also looking curiously at his eye. … …

Aside from redoing a standard eye exam, Kakashi runs through a marathon of flashcards to test both his memory and then precognitive abilities. The tests are done with lights on then in the dark and Kakashi is given a perfect 20/20 and an enhancement score of ‘15 grades above average’ for both. There are also several pages worth of words and numbers in progressively complex arrangements to test his information retention. Of course, everything is easily remembered with the sharingun active.

“Well, it seems to give general across the board vision enhancement alongside perfect recall and retention,” Wada finally concludes as he records all Kakashi’s results, “Of course, we’ll have to re-test retention in a few days so see if the information degrades over an extended period and we don’t know whether your quirk effects your long distance eyesight, but, for now, this appears to be all. The link between your quirked eye and the regenerative side-effect is still unknown. Odd that we couldn’t trigger any ‘copy’ function considering the quirks name though ‘copy’ could also be a reference to memorisation. If any other features do reveal themselves make sure you alert a medical professional.”

… …

Kakashi despises the process of getting an MRI with a heated passion. He hates having to lie prone in a loud confined space. It is the height of discomfort, making him tense up and clench his jaw. It is only the fact that Kakashi had researched and mentally prepared himself for the experience that stops him from accidentally snapping someone’s neck.

“We’ll have the results back in a few days,” Wada informs once the trying ordeal is over with, “From there we’ll update the Registry so you’re properly in the system. Speaking of which, have you made any progress on remembering a surname? I need something for the forms.”

“Hatake,” he grunts, too irritated to bother evading - he just wants to return to his room and wait out the side effects of his seal in peace- the question like he had every other time the man asked, “I think I prefer Kakashi though.”

It wasn’t like the name meant anything here and, who knows, maybe someone would come looking for him. This way they would have a trail to follow.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #naruto #boku no academia #CrossOver #kakshi hatake #dimension travel AU #fanfiction #my hero academia #more hospital stuff #probably a bunch of medical inaccuracies #quirk biology #quirk stuff #world building

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

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A Date with an Angel // Part Two // Hidan and Obito

Hidan

“Order whatever you want; I swiped the old fuck’s credit card so dinner’s on him!” Konan panics at this, and refuses to pick up her menu until Hidan takes out his wallet and proves that he was just kidding. Today was Hidan’s turn at entertaining the lovely little lady, and he had originally intended to take her to a heavy metal performance at bar downtown (he was friends with the lead guitarist so they would have gotten in free). However, after he informed Nagato of his plans, he was met with a disappointing “Konan hates heavy metal.”, so he decided to take her to dinner instead. She seemed entirely suspicious when he approached her earlier (wearing a dress shirt and tie instead of his usual dirty muscle tank and ripped sweatpants), but nonetheless agreed to go with him to a quiet little cafe a few blocks down from the house. Konan has never really known what to make of Hidan. He was just slightly older than Deidara, but (in Konan’s opinion) ranking much higher on the “immaturity” wheel. He’s been nicknamed by the rest of the group as “Mr. Never-Dies”, because no matter what happens, what job he takes on, how badly he’s hurt ... he just keeps getting back up. One time he came home with blood running from the crown of his head and flowing into his boots, but rather than let anyone take him to a hospital, Hidan took out a needle and made Kakuzu stitch the gash on his forehead. No painkillers, no alcohol, not even any flinching. Anyone else would have been substantially messed up after such a heavy blood loss ... but Hidan was just fine, in fact laughing and talking like nothing was amiss. He’s extremely foul-mouthed and has a thing for telling dirty jokes, but today, on his date with Konan, he’s making a great effort to restrain himself. Hidan wants very badly to put his arm around her waist as he walks along beside her, but resists as he knows Nagato will tear him a new asshole if he makes her in anyway uncomfortable. He’s at a loss for what to talk to her about, so he simply asks her how she’s feeling. There’s a pause, and she goes “I’m not really sure. I lost my mood ring yesterday.” He bursts out laughing, so hard that she blushes. “That’s pretty damn funny, lady.”Konan tilts her head in surprise; nobody had ever complimented her humor before. In fact she’s usually told that the few jokes she does make are very flat, or somewhat dark. Fast forward to the cafe, where Konan is surprised again that Hidan asks for a table that’s “quiet”, and pulls out her chair for her. The waiter comes back and Konan is amused by the amount of food that Hidan is ordering. When it’s her turn, her mind is a blank, so she just orders the last thing he said (which was spaghetti and meatballs). “That’s all?” he asks, as the waiter collects their menus and leaves. “No wonder you’re so slender.” She asks him how in the world HE’S so skinny when he eats so much, and he explains he has a fast metabolism, like his mother. Konan is interested; she’s never heard him mention his family before. As if reading her mind, he says, “Me and those guys just don’t get along. They wrote me off as a brain-dead bastard when I said I wasn’t goin’ to college.” “College isn’t everything, you know. People have to do what’s right for them.” Hidan agrees, and begins telling her his much he enjoys working for Nagato, and the type of jobs they do. It’s interesting; when you got him away from the others and in a calm, quiet setting, Hidan was ... normal. Normal and actually very charming. And although he never says it out-loud, Konan gets the strong impression that Hidan has come to consider the rest of the group as being a surrogate family. Then the food comes out and Hidan turns into a different creature altogether. He eats much like an animal, viciously and indiscriminately. But instead of being disgusted by this, Konan ... feels relaxed. There’s an unspoken feeling here, that with Hidan, she can let go and be herself. She doesn’t have to worry about looking pretty, or eating daintily, or acting “like a lady”. In fact Hidan orders them ice cream sundaes for dessert,

then challenges her to see who can eat theirs the fastest. Hidan ends up winning, but they end up with a horrible case of brain-freeze that leaves them both paralyzed for several moments ... yet laughing pretty hard. Even though Konan ate far less than Hidan, she feels quite stuffed nonetheless and mentions this to Hidan, who immediately offers to give her a piggy back ride home. She hesitates to accept; it’s a ways home and Konan feels she’s not the lightest woman in the world (especially after a big meal). But he insists, and she lets him hoist her into his back and trot back to the house with her. They laugh and joke the entire way, with Hidan making numerous comments about how light she is and how good she smells. “That’s one thing about living in a house full of guys for so long; I got so used to the smell of ass and dirty socks and Doritos that I forgot there’s people in the world who know what the fuck deodorant and shampoo are!” Konan laughs so hard at this that she slips off Hidan’s back and lands on her knees in the grass, holding her stomach and howling. Seeing that she likely won’t calm down anytime soon to grab onto his back again, Hidan picks her up and carries her in his arms the last two blocks home. He sets her down gently outside the front door, telling her how much fun she is to be with, when she throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” she says as she lets him go, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” He hesitates, then leans down and very gently kisses her cheek, before telling her that she’s welcome to hang out with him anytime, because “I’ve got a million more jokes, doll, and I’ll gladly tell ‘em all to you.” He walks her to her room and chances giving her another kiss, this one on the forehead, before bidding her Goodnight.

Obito

“Can I ask you a question?” “Yeah?” “When we’re at home, when we’re around the others, why do you wear that thing?” It’s the next day, and Konan is at a bar (ironically, the same one that Hidan wanted to take her to the previous day) with Obito. Out of everyone in the house, Obito is the one that strikes Konan as being the most mysterious. To begin with, the day she met him he was wearing a unique orange half-mask over his face ... and never took it off. She questioned Nagato about it but he seemed reluctant to speak on Obito’s unique fashion choice, and none of the others acted as though there was anything strange about it. He joined he others for dinner each night but seemed to prefer sweets to actual food, and he was quiet. Nagato told Konan that Obito was more or less his right hand man within the organization, and had helped him recruit the other members. Obito never spoke to her unless she spoke first ... so naturally she had been surprised when he approached her as she was coming out of her room, and asked if she minded joining him for “a quick drink”. The bar, like everything else, was in walking distance of the house; but Obito took her on the back of his motorcycle. It was a short ride but an exhilarating one ... and it got even more exciting when, upon entering the bar, Obito glanced around, saw there weren’t many people, and took off his mask. He found them a seat at a table near the back, and ordered them both a glass of wine. Konan had tried her hardest not to stare at his face ((which was difficult; aside from a few jagged scars on the left side and what looked like a damaged eye, he was quite handsome)) but eventually he caught her looking, hence giving her the bravery to pose her question. Obito paused for several moments, as if contemplating what to say. “Why do women wear makeup? Why do people dye their hair or get piercings or tattoos or wear crazy clothes? It’s because they have something about themselves that they don’t like, so they try to cover it up. I don’t like my face. I haven’t since my accident.” Konan blinks, genuinely surprised at Obito’s answer. She chances it to ask “Accident?” He gave her a wry smile and ordered himself a shot of whiskey (and her an ice tea) saying he needed something stronger to tell her about it. “When I was a kid, my parents liked to go rock climbing. Took me with to National parks every summer. One year my dad got drunk and took me and my mom up a dangerous path. He pulled on a rock the wrong way, and it came out of the mountain, along with a bunch more, and crashed down on us. Really long fall; mom and dad killed right away. But me ... I guess the devil decided he wasn’t done with me. A boulder crushed this entire side of my body, and my face got fucked ... but I lived. Had to go to a lot of physical therapy. Also had to go live with my uncle Madara — that guy’s a piece of work. But anyway I lived and here we are, right?” Konan is quiet for a long while, watching the ice cubes float around in her glass. “I like you like this,” she finally says, and this time she’s looking him directly in the face. “I understand if you want to be someone different, or like, if you feel like your mask makes you different, but, if you ever want to be THIS Obito ... please come to my room. We can talk, we can listen to music and eat junk and watch movies and talk about books and —“ Obito interrupts her by putting both arms around her, squeezing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan.” They stay for another few hours, and Konan is pleasantly surprised to find that Obito without the mask, Obito away from the house ... is fantastic. He teaches her how to play pool, he keeps her laughing with countless stories about growing up with his “crazy uncle”. At one point in the night he convinces her to join him at the karaoke machine on the stage, and the two sing duets of Disney songs (to the thunderous applause of the few people at the bar).The ride back home is mostly quiet, him driving slower this time and her holding on to him, each filled with their own thoughts. Before they get to the front

door, Konan lifts Obito’s mask just the slightest bit, and kisses his cheek. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long, long time. I appreciate you letting me get to know you.” He smiles and blushes, then slides the mask back into place before opening the front door. Some of the others are in the living room, and Obito quietly greets them before heading to his room. Konan was awed by how effortless the switch from animated and somewhat goofy to reserved and calm seemed to be for him ... and found herself wondering if any of the others were putting on a facade as well. She takes her shower and goes to her room, intending to go to sleep early, but after about an hour of restlessly tossing back and forth, she gives it up. She turns her light back on and picks up the remote to her tv, thinking that maybe a good, boring show will put her to sleep. But before she can find anything, a knock comes on the door. She goes to open it, and is surprised to find Obito standing there. “I saw the light underneath your door. Can I come in?” She takes him by the arm and pulls him inside. Once inside, he slides off his mask and, looking around, finds a seat for himself on one of Konan’s chairs. He opens up his jacket to reveal a small book, worn and obviously read many times. “I saw you reading this last week. I remember you telling Sasori that you finished it. I was wondering; what did you think in Chapter seven, when —“

#the akatsuki #a date with an angel #first date #konan #konan akatsuki #hidan #tobi #hidakona #tobikona

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 1

Summary: Adelaide Park meets Henry Cavill for the first time and she is obviously very nervous.

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.5k

A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, just let me know. And please let me know what you guys think. I’d love to hear your thoughts about it 😘

Masterlist // Introduction // Next chapter

I’ve never been to Italy before. Actually, before I was a renowned actress, I never came outside of LA. Growing up, my parents never had the money to go to a different city, let alone other countries. My vacations were spend solely in our small one room apartment back in Los Angeles by myself.

My parents were never rich. My dad worked long hours in a factory every single day, but earning just enough money to pay the rent and for me and mom to eat. One night, I saw him scraping the packages or our plats clean, so he had something to eat as well. After I saw that, I never ate all the food off my plate, because I realized that my dad was working the hardest, but was eating the least.

It always broke my heart to see both of them struggle. My mom used to be a cleaning lady, but after she got fired, she became a live-in nanny, which basically meant that from my sixth birthday, she was barely home anymore and I had to raise myself.

Hours on end I was alone. Back in school I barely had any friends—correction: I had no friends at all—and when I came home from school, I’d sit outside to do my homework, because dad didn’t have enough money to get a second set of keys.

I never complained about it, because I knew they were trying and I learned all too well from that one time when I asked for a Barbie doll back when I was five and I kept crying about it, because other kids had Barbie dolls and I was the only one who didn’t. My mom got so mad, that she grabbed my empty plate and threw it against the wall, while she was screaming something about how ungrateful I was. Mom never got mad, she was always admirably calm and collected, even when life got in the way like it did with us. Seeing her like this, meant she was serious and I never said anything about something like that anymore. I never asked for anything, at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I am so thankful for everything they taught me and did for me. It may have been a hard time, but every year for my birthday, they gave me something. It was always something I really needed, but I always appreciated how they went out of their way for me, wondering how many meals they skipped for this present.

It all became worse when I finished high school at the age of nineteen. I was older than everyone else, since I read so slowly and didn’t even understand it most of the time, causing me to get behind on many classes over the course of the years. Besides, our school wasn’t known for having the best results overall, so the fact that I didn’t score well, meant I was blending in with the rest.

I was working in a diner, because I wasn’t smart enough at all for a scholarship, when my mom got in a terrible accident, when she walked back home and she was hit by a car who ran through a red light. She was paralyzed from her waist down and besides the high hospital bills, she also needed psychical therapy, something that unfortunately isn’t free.

With what my dad and I were earning together, we couldn’t even pay two percent of those costs. I was thinking about putting myself up on a sugar daddy website, but I know I couldn’t lie to them, when I would come back with a lot of money. Besides, my dad was always very strict about what mom and I could and couldn’t do to make money and sugar daddies were off limits. He told me multiple times—even after mom’s accident—that we had nothing to worry about. That he would take care of it.

But I had something to worry about, because my father wasn’t getting any younger. He had been working too hard for too long and all he wanted, was staying with his wife, who he still loved so so much, despite everything they had gone through. I took up more shifts at the diner, only slowly coming to terms that, even with the tips I was receiving, it was never enough to cover the bills.

In about two months, my mom would be discharged from the facility, if we hadn’t paid at least something significant.

One day, I was walking back home from work, when I saw a huge billboard, with a message that a studio was looking for someone to star in one of the biggest sitcoms of that time: Remembering High School. Apparently, one of the new main characters (who was an adult) was having a flashback from when they were in high school—the main premise of the show. And that character happened to be an Asian lady.

I went in and decided I would try it out. I mean, I had no acting experience and solely did it to earn some money, but being Asian American was apparently enough and that was the beginning of my acting career.

At first the amounts of money I made were not enough to cover the medical costs, but it was enough to delay further payment and my mom could stay in the facility.

For years I had difficulty with reading, let alone reading out loud, with an audience, but somehow on the set, I could forget about that. I could finally be someone I really wanted to be. For a few moments I could forget all the sorrows and worries I had resting on my shoulders.

The first five weeks, I’d combine my new acting career with my job in the diner, but after awhile I became a recurring character and for a whole year, I was part of the cast. I remember walking into my mom’s room, showing both her and my dad the first episode I was going to star in. ‘I’m from Minnesota,’ was my first line and the beginning of a very promising career.

My parents were so proud of me. My dad didn’t even care about the money I made at first, because he was so happy that I was doing something that from the looks of it, I actually enjoyed.

Over the years, I’ve come to love acting, but no one knows I do it because of my family. Actually no one knew about my family situation and since I have zero friends, even in the industry (because I barely talk about my personal life and I never budge, even when the try to pry information about it. My co-stars are acquaintances, almost like neighbors: you know one another, but you don’t know them), no one is aware that every penny I earn, goes directly to my family.

Nowadays I make millions, but I’m mainly spending it on my mom, but also on other people who are paralyzed and need psychical therapy, but were in the same boat as my family and my parents met over time in the facility. Money doesn’t mean a lot to me and these people can use it a lot better than I can.

Besides, my parents worked so hard for me growing up, this is the only way for me to pay them back. Despite not having any money themselves, nor stuff, they always taught me to share, to make sure that other people are well taken care off.

The flight from Japan to Italy moved along pretty quick, but maybe that’s because I was traveling first class. My latest movie took place in Japan and though I loved it there, I really want to see what Italy is like, after spending eight months in a lousy hotel in Japan.

After becoming an actress, I went to a lot of great places for shooting movies. I went to Suriname, Canada, Spain, Australia and this time it was Japan. I’m so blessed that I get to travel, knowing really well that other people are still struggling with what I used to struggle with. Sometimes I donate the earnings of a movie to movements that catch my eye, that help kids in certain areas of California with their school work, and with access of clothes and food. I always donate anonymously, not wanting to seem like a philanthropist who is doing this solely for her own image.

I always think that if you really care about something, you would do it without earning praises.

Participating on ‘The Celebrity Project’ wasn’t something I would normally do, but when they reached out to me, I was actually delighted that I was going to be part of this. Maybe I could finally show the world that I’m not as stupid as I appear in interviews.

Being a loner, a slow reader and probably has multiple learning disabilities (if I actually got tested, but the tests were too expensive and no one at school seemed to care and I’m actually too embarrassed to get myself tested now I’m a twenty-five year old), I often come off as an airhead and it’s my own fault really. I do give them enough stupid material to go on about that accusation.

However, I’m really nervous. I mean, I’m going to work together with Henry Cavill. He is charming and sounds so intelligent. When I was done filming and back at my hotel room, I’d watch his interviews, because I wanted to know what I was going to work with. The way he is so articulate and he obviously knows what he is doing, makes me feel even worse about myself. I’m a total disaster and already a burden to him I presume.

I’m sitting in a taxi, waiting for traffic to calm down a bit. It’s early in the mornings and thankfully I got to make myself a bit more presentable in the plane already. I notice the tiny camera’s being strategically placed in the car. It really begun, I think to myself. I’m part of a reality show now. ‘How are you feeling, miss Park?’ the taxi driver asks. ‘I recently heard about this program.’

‘I’m a bit nervous,’ I say, wondering whether or not he is payed to to talk to me about this. I rummage through my purse, hoping I can find my lip balm.

‘Are you looking forward to work with Henry Cavill?’

That name alone makes me nearly make me shit my pants already. ‘Yeah, he seems like a nice man, so I really look forward to work with him.’ And I sure as hell hope that I won’t let him down.

The drive to the hotel is about an hour, but it feels like time is going by a whole lot faster. The chauffeur talks about his family and how his wife is actually a fan of my movies and has watched every single one of them. I took a few pictures with him and signed the inside of the cracker box, because that was all he got with him for me to write something on.

After I said goodbye to him, I’m told that I should go to room 346. With my suitcases with me, I step into the elevator, a cameraman close by. They told me that at one point, these cameramen would just be invisible to me, but I highly doubt it. They are only with us during the assignments. In the cars and at the place where we’re staying, the camera’s are hidden.

When I’m in front of the door, I take a deep breath.

I can do this I think to myself. I have starred alongside other talented people. My first real role was playing Keanu Reeves’ daughter, I was Angela Bassett’s assistant and I also had some pretty steamy scenes with David Castañeda, after his Umbrella Academy days. I can handle being around Henry Cavill, right? I knock on the door three times and I open it a bit, peeking my head around the door.

I can conclude that I’m severely underdressed. I’m wearing a simply jean short, white crop top with some lace on the borders and socks with the same lace details as my top, paired with white sneakers.

I look like a slob, compared to Henry, who seems like he stepped out of a Disney movie. His white blouse, off-white pants and those loafers. The only thing that is missing, is his yacht with the name Serenity.

A smile creeps up on my face, as I step into the room, rolling my pink suitcases with me, because he actually looks approachable.

‘Hi there,’ he says with a small smile on his face. He walks up to me, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Henry, nice to meet you.’

I can’t help but blush. He is so charming and his accent makes him so posh. I place my hand in his and it almost disappears. Not to be that girl, but my size kink is activated right here and now. ‘Adelaide,’ I say. ‘Uhm, it’s nice to meet you… Too.’

I curse my tongue.

‘How was your flight?’ he asks, as he gestures to the couch for us to sit on.

I take place right next to him and I feel like a child sitting next to her dad. Why is he so massive? ‘It was okay. Yours?’

‘It flew by.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Was that… a pun?’

Henry chuckles nervously. ‘Maybe, I’m sorry.’

I look around me. The hotel room seems okay, but I bet we’re not going to stay here for long. I stare at the silver tray in front of us, with a set of keys and an envelope with our names on it.

Henry takes the envelope from the tray and holds it in front of me. ‘You want to read it?’

I shake my head. ‘No, you go.’ The whole idea of reading out loud without practice, makes me want to vomit. Before the table reads, I use this program that will read everything for me, even using the right intonation. I stay up for way too many hours for that, because once I’ve heard it, I made notes, I can better read it.

Back when I was doing ‘Remembering High School’ I had the woman who played the adult version of me read it to me, because I had to portray the young her and keep her character in mind. Since she was an established character on the show, she had certain ways of saying things I had to copy. She never knew the real reason I wanted her to read it out loud for me.

He cocks an eyebrow, but then opens the envelope. He clears his throat, before a dramatic reading of our first assignment rolls out of his mouth. How can he make a simple note sound so… Sensual, almost? His deep and dark voice, making it sound way more intense than it actually is. I wouldn’t mind if he read my scripts out loud for me.

‘Dear Adelaide and Henry, the adventure of ‘The Celebrity Project’ has officially started,’ he says, tilting the card a little, so I can read a little bit with him. It’s a nice gesture really and I appreciate the thought. ‘We have provided you with a nice car, to drive to the little cottage, specially arranged for the two of you. Tomorrow will be a nice day for you to relax (because you two are both severely jet lagged we presume) and the day after that, you’ll be expected for your first assignment. Enjoy the car ride and remember: look out of your window every now and then. We are aware that Henry is really handsome, Adelaide and you’ll be forced to only look at him, but nature can be beautiful too.’

I scrunch up my nose. That last sentence seemed so forced and this is exactly the reason why I don’t like these types of survival, borderline reality shows. It’s not reality. It’s this forced setting, hoping to get people to believe that this is how real life should look like.

And I don’t like deceiving people like that. I almost regret participating.

‘Right, well, we might as well just go,’ he says, his tone flat, maybe just as annoyed with that last sentence as I am. Probably even more so.

◎ ◎ ◎

Why is there a pink carseat in the passengers seat? I mean, I’m not the tallest, but I’m definitely not that tiny. I look around us, only to see no member of the crew around. This is great. I want to take the seat out, because I don’t want to sit on it, but it’s securely fastened and only with a different set of keys, I can undo it.

And of course I don’t have that.

I really regret being here.

However, I still sit on the carseat, because I don’t want to sit in the back because I’ll get carsick and when I see Henry’s cocked eyebrows and a poorly hidden smirk, I simply say: ‘Don’t.’

Okay, maybe I do understand why they put me on a carseat, because this man looks so enormous and otherwise I’m simply non existent. He starts the car and simply drives off. I don’t know whether or not I should say something to him, because I feel like we should talk. I mean, that’s why the camera’s are here right?

‘What is your newest movie about?’ Henry asks.

‘About a woman escaping from her past and she moves to Japan, when one day an old friend becomes her new manager,’ I say.

‘Romantic comedy?’

‘Of course.’

He nods. ‘You don’t get tired of doing those?’ he asks.

Yes, I do get a bit tired of them, but there are two things: for starters, just like those romance books (that I would buy my mom one for her birthday every year, because I knew how much she loved those), romantic comedies sell really good. And no one wants me for something else. I feel like directors don’t trust me with big roles, like Rose in Titanic or someone else major. Besides, I’m Asian American, when was the last time one of us got a major part in a movie that’s not a romantic comedy?

But I don’t want to seem ungrateful and it’s a nice stream of money coming in every time and that’s basically all I want.

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s okay. You shot something new… new movie… Right?’ For fuck sake, Adelaide, you were doing so well.

‘I did, actually,’ he says. ‘It’s something I’m very excited for. It’s more of a dramatical part.’ I listen to Henry, as he is talking about this movie. How he plays a single dad, trying to figure out this parenting part with his daughter, when his brother and sister-in-law pass away and he has to take in four monsters of boys in his house. The way he talks about this, I notice a shimmer in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologizes. ‘I let myself go there for a second. It’s just I’m really excited about this movie.’

‘No, I get it,’ I say, as I look out of the window. I let out a deep sigh, as we drive over the sandy roads. Before I can say something else (as if I knew what), Henry hits the break and like the cliches in the movies, he holds out his arm in front of me, as the car comes to a halt.

There are four dogs and one owner on the road and the man screams something in Italian to us. Clearly we were supposed to stop for him. ‘Shit, sorry,’ Henry mumbles, as if the man could hear that.

His warm hand dropped to my bare thigh and with my pointer finger I tap him on the back of his hand. ‘Excuse me,’ I say.

‘Oh no, terrible sorry,’ he says quickly, retracting his hand. ‘What do you think the cottage will look like?’ Henry asks, when he pulled up again, not driving as fast as he did before.

Shrugging I play with my water bottle. ‘I don’t know, but I think I know one thing.’

It takes me a while before I can get the words out of my mouth, but Henry doesn’t force me to say anything, by asking something like: ‘Care to let me in?’ He actually lets me find the words and it feels nice not to be rushed into saying something.

‘I bet there is one bed that is large and comfortable. However, there is also one uncomfortable couch, too small for you. So people want to see whether or not you are a… gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch.’

‘You think?’ he asks frowning. ‘A bit far fetched, don’t you think?’

When we arrive at the tiny cottage, we walk inside. It’s nice decorated, warm colors mixed with nice hints of different pastel colors. My eye falls on the very uncomfortable looking couch that is pretty tiny if Henry is supposed to be sprawled out on that, but we don’t know what the rest looks like.

After a small tour through the house, we have come to the conclusion that there is indeed only one bed. I look over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Henry’s. ‘See?’

Taglist: @thelastsock // @jolly-polly // @henrythickcavill // @maan24 // @diegos-butt / @agniavateira //

#henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #the alluring charm of henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x actress #henry cavill x adelaide park

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shortprince-cos · 4 years

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Patton Angst Fic Because I Can't Stop

Summary: Patton decides to run...a little experiment.

Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort.

Ship: Platonic or Romantic LAMP, your choice.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, exhaustion, crying, not eating, breaking down a door, loneliness. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

~~~~~

Patton was tired.

That was more of an understatement. He woke up at 6:00 every morning to make breakfast for all of the sides. Most of them ate a little differently, so it required a lot of work to get all of the meals perfect.

Everyone took their meals back to their rooms to eat. An occasional thanks was given, but most meals were lonely, with only Patton eating at the dinner table.

Patton didn't mind.

After eating breakfast, Patton would clean the house. He did this every day. He probably didn't need to clean the whole house every day, but he wanted to. He wanted it to be perfect.

He would take a 'break' at noon, just in time for lunch. Making all the sides different lunches every day took a lot of work, but it was worth his family being happy.

...They never thanked him. Or sat with him during lunch.

But they appreciated him! They just didn't show it very often!

Patton didn't mind.

Believe it or not, Patton did take breaks. He went to check on everyone during the day, just wondering if they needed anything. Sometimes they would ask for water, or some kind of help, but more often than not, they dismissed Patton, saying they were 'too busy for distractions'.

Patton didn't mind.

He returned to cleaning after lunch. That usually lasted until 5:00. Patton would spend at least an hour working on the perfect dinner, one that everyone would enjoy! Dinner was usually the time when the whole family could get together and just talk about their day, or whatever they wanted really! It was when everyone was done with their work, and they could just spend time together!

...More recently, no one even came to get food. Patton wasted an hour making perfect meals, only to eat a fraction, and have to throw the rest away when it goes bad.

Patton...did mind. But he always acted like he didn't.

Patton stressed cleaned and cooked every day. No one knew that it was because of stress, but they never talked to him anyway, so it wasn't their fault.

Sometimes things got too overwhelming. The amount of work he had to do for Thomas, even though it was very little, it weighed heavily on him. Trying to fix everyone else's problems, but ignoring his own.

It was better to ignore those problems anyway, it's not like he had anyone to help him with them. Not like he helped the others.

Constantly worrying about the right decisions. Not just his decisions, everyone else's too. All of these things were torture, but they were worth it.

Were they worth it? No one thanked him. They barely even talked to him. It almost seemed like they were ignoring him after the last video. They only talked if they needed something, or they were in a video. Movie nights were long forgotten, the last one probably before the courtroom. After that, everyone was on edge, and started spending more time alone.

Patton lay in his bed, thinking about all of this. He rarely even fell asleep in his bed, most of his sleep was on the couch, when he couldn't keep his eyes open at 3:00 in the morning. He only went to his bed if he needed to think, and boy was he thinking.

'Was any of this worth it? They must acknowledge some of the things I do. Right?'

Patton was finally breaking down from the pressure. Actually realizing what was happening to his family- to him.

'Maybe I should test it. If they notice, I'll come right back, no harm done. If they don't notice...maybe I wouldn't be in the way anymore.'

Patton decided to run an experiment. He would stay in his room until someone noticed he wasn't there. He was sick and tired of being left alone, so he'll finally see if they actually cared or not.

Hopefully they would notice immediately. If they didn't notice in the first week...Patton wasn't sure if he would be around for the second.

---

Logan woke up at 8:00am precisely, as he always does. He quickly got up, showered, got dressed, brushed his teeth and hair, and tied his tie before going downstairs.

Logan didn't see any breakfast today, or any Patton for that matter. It was...odd, but Logan didn't think too much of it.

'He must have taken a day off. Usually he would tell us, but he must have forgotten.' Logan thought. Oh well, that meant Logan wouldn't have many distractions today.

Logan started brewing some coffee. Should he have breakfast? Of course it's 'The most important meal of the day!' as Patton would say. Was Logan going to have it? No. He usually wasn't hungry in the morning anyway, and he only ate it for Patton.

"Coffee instead of Crofter's? Who are you, and what have you done with Logan?" Logan turned to see Virgil coming down the stairs in his pajamas with his hoodie on top. His sarcastic joke making Logan chuckle a bit.

"Well, Patton left me with an option today." Logan explained while pouring his coffee into a mug that said '#1 Teacher!'.

"Patton isn't making us eat breakfast today? We can have whatever?" Virgil's face widened with a bit of surprise, but he looked more excited than anything.

"It seems he has taken a day off. Coffee?" Logan offered Virgil his mug, Virgil quickly accepted and drank it black.

"Patton took a day off? I'm shocked. Like, actually shocked. That never happens."

"I am 'shook' as well."

"Never say that again."

"Did I say it wrong? Is that not the meaning?"

"No, it was right, but it was super embarrassing and cringy. I have no idea why we taught you these things, it was obviously a mistake."

---

Logan's day went by normally- well almost. Patton never knocked on his door, and Logan never heard the vacuum running. He...missed it? He had no idea if that statement was correct, but he knew that working was a little harder without the white noise of the vacuum running from downstairs.

Why Patton vacuumed the entire house every day was a mystery to Logan. He certainly didn't need to. But the noise in the background was always comforting for some reason.

Logan didn't take any breaks today. He forgot to eat lunch, and by the time he was done with his work, it was 9:48pm. Oops. Guess he should probably eat something.

Logan made his way downstairs, surprised when Patton wasn't there. Logan also didn't understand why Patton slept on the couch most of the time, but whatever figuratively floats his boat, Logan supposed. It was odd not seeing him all day though.

Logan only ate Crofter's on some toast for dinner before going back upstairs at 10:13pm to go to bed.

He got to his bedroom door and hesitated. He glanced to Patton's door, debating something in his mind.

'Should I see if he's alright?' Logan thought. 'No, I'm just overreacting. All he did was take a day off, there's no need to worry.'

No need to worry.

---

It was two days later, and Virgil was worrying a bit. He hadn't seen Patton for awhile, and while he was happy he wasn't being helicopter-parented, he couldn't help but wonder where he was.

Despite being upset with him for accepting Jan-Deceit, Virgil wanted to just break into his room and find out what was happening, but as always, his anxiety stopped him.

"Logan?" He decided to ask Logan if he was being irrational or not.

"Yes Virgil?" Logan responded, not looking up from his book or moving from his spot on the couch.

"It may be just me, but, I'm worried about Patton." That got Logan's attention.

"Well, it certainly isn't just you. I have to admit I am a bit troubled for him as well. However, it has only been three days, I don't think we should jump to any conclusions. Besides, if Patton wanted to see us, he would. He might just want some time alone right now, especially after the last video we did." Logan explained. This calmed Virgil down a bit.

"Right." Virgil cringed, remembering the events of the episode he missed. "Ok, thanks Logan."

"No problem, Virgil." Logan smiled at Virgil before returning to his book.

Virgil sighed and plopped down next to Logan on the couch. He didn't really want to go back to his anxiety-inducing room after he just calmed down.

The two sat in silence the rest of the day.

---

Roman had just gotten back from his adventure in the imagination. He had been gone since...the video, but now he was ready to face everyone again! Saving an imaginary town full of imaginary people sure does boost your confidence!

But it was time to actually confront his problems. Like Patton and De-Janus. It still felt weird to say his actual name.

Roman emerged from his room for the first time in at least a week. The halls were empty. That's not normal. But were any of them 'normal' after the newest video? Not really.

Roman cautiously made his way down the steps to find Logan sitting at the table, and Virgil sitting on top of the couch.

They both kind of looked awful. Logan had bags under his unconcentrated eyes, his mind clearly wandering from his book while he fidgeted with his necktie.

Virgil...looked like Virgil, except he looked really tense and his brows were furrowed with worry.

"Well, I'd certainly hoped for a more enthusiastic response to my late arrival." Roman called attention to himself at the bottom of the stairs.

"Roman!" Virgil immediately shot up from the couch and ran over to hug Roman, which was...strange.

"Roman, where have you been?! You've been gone for three weeks!" Logan scolded while walking over to Virgil and Roman.

"Jeez, L. I just got back and I'm already getting yelled at?" Roman complained. "Wait, three weeks? No, that- that can't be right. I've only been gone a couple days."

"Well, clearly your calculations are wrong."

Virgil suddenly pulled away from Roman, choosing to shove him instead.

"Hey- what-?!"

"Do you have any idea how worried I was about you and Patton?! You've been gone for so long, I thought something had happened, but Logan told me not to worry, but then I started worrying more because what if we should have been worried and something did happen to you and we didn't know because we weren't worr-"

"Virgil!" Roman grabbed Virgil's shoulders to get his attention. "Calm down time, I'm fine. But, why are you worried about Patton? Where is he?"

"We assume he's in his room, but we haven't seen him for about seven days, three hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-three seconds." Logan explained casually.

"And you haven't checked on him, why?"

"Logan says he's probably just taken the week off, or something..." Virgil quietly mumbled.

"Ok...that is very weird though. I mean, has Patton ever taken time off? Like, since we've known him?" Roman questioned Logan.

"Well, no. But I suspect Deceit has told him that he should take some time off, given the point of the last episode." Logan explained while Roman cringed at the thought of the last time he saw Patton.

Virgil groaned as well.

"Something wrong, Roman? Virgil?"

"Nothing..." The two quietly moaned in unison.

"Very well, if you two are so bothered by Patton's absence, I suppose we could go check on him." Logan offered while gesturing upstairs.

"Logan, you've been fidgeting with your tie throughout this entire conversation, and you expect us to believe you aren't worried?" Virgil accused while Logan very clearly stopped toying with his necktie.

Logan cleared his throat, his face turning slightly pinker. "Well- uh- lets just go."

And so the three of them journeyed up to Patton's light blue door, hoping to find their friend perfectly fine.

"Should we knock?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, if he doesn't respond, then we'll go in." Logan said in his 'I don't have feelings, but I'll comfort you anyway' voice.

Roman knocked three times and awaited an answer.

Nothing.

Roman knocked louder this time.

Nothing.

"Patton?" Roman tried opening the door, but alas, it's locked.

"Should we-" Virgil started before Roman kicked the door in surprisingly fast.

"ROMAN, YOU SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME FIRST!" Virgil exclaimed before looking into Patton's room.

"Empty." Logan stated the obvious.

Everyone slowly walked into the lifeless room.

"Wait." Virgil said quietly.

Well, almost lifeless.

Virgil slowly walked over to Patton's bed, which now everyone could see had a small figure hiding under the covers.

"Patton?" Virgil whispers as he kneels down next to the bed.

Suddenly a little Patton face comes out from under the comforter. "Yeah?" He asks in a small, meek voice.

"We were worried about you, are you alright?" Logan questioned as he walked over to where Patton was on the bed.

"Oh, so now you're worried." Patton replied with an attitude that he never had before.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Virgil tried his best to not let anger seep through his voice.

"Nothing, apparently." Patton buried himself in the blanket again, leaving the other sides confused.

"Yikes, he really has been spending too much time with Janus." Roman stated, which made something in Patton snap.

Patton immediately pulled the covers off and sat up angrily. "No! No, I haven't, because he's afraid you guys will hate him even more if he talks to me! And none of you guys ever come out of your rooms anymore because you're all mad at me! No one ever even acknowledges me anymore! I'm just so-so a-alone!" At this point Patton had hot tears rolling down his face while he gasped for more air.

"I-I know you guys need t-time, but...I can't do it anymore, I just c-can't."

"P-Patton-" Virgil started before Patton started laughing- wait, laughing?

"Its funny, right? How-how I can take all the time in the world to work through my issues, but the moment you guys need time..." Patton slumped in exhaustion. "God, I'm so selfish. I can't even last two weeks without you guys."

"Maybe, but we shouldn't have ignored you. We should have talked about it instead of ignoring it." Virgil said. "Instead of ignoring you."

"N-No. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm j-just overreacting, is all." Patton wiped away his tears even though new ones kept forming. "I-I'm fine."

"You're clearly not fine, Patton." Logan put his hands on Patton's. "You've apparently been sulking in your room all week. When did you even intend on coming out?"

"But Logan," Patton's face lit up. Oh no. "We came out years ago!"

Three different groans rang out in the bedroom.

"Patton, you know very well what I meant." Patton's face fell quicker than it rose.

"I-I know...Roman, when did you get back?"

Roman's face got a little happier. "Just today-"

"Patton." Logan interrupted, squeezing Patton's hand a little more. "You didn't answer my question."

Patton looked between the three of them before looking towards the floor and mumbling something indecipherable.

"Uh- what was that, Pat?" Virgil asked cautiously.

Patton quickly looked back up to meet Virgil's eyes. "I wasn't going to!" He exclaimed.

Everyone's faces were quickly filled with shock and disbelief.

Roman moved to sit next to Patton as well. "W-What? You were just going to stay in your room forever?" Patton only shook his head. "Then, what-?"

"No." Virgil suddenly interrupted, the shock never leaving his face. "Patton, tell me you weren't going to-" Virgil raised his hand to cover his mouth.

"Spit it out, Virge!" Roman exclaimed.

"It seems Patton was going to d-" Logan stopped in disbelief. "excuse me- duck out. R-Right?"

Roman gasped. "Patton, that's not true is it? It can't be true."

Patton started sobbing. Well, there was his answer.

Virgil shot up from where he was kneeling and quickly pounced on Patton, giving him a giant hug that was probably long overdue.

Logan and Roman looked at each other before joining the hug pile too.

Eventually they had to stop, considering Patton had to breathe sometime, so they all climbed off of each other.

Patton still had a few tears streaming down his face. "I'm-I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare apologize for feeling like that. Just don't." Virgil scolded quickly.

"Well, then you guys can't apologize either!" Patton claimed.

"Yes we can!" All three said in unison, which made Patton giggle a bit.

"Well, that's not fair." Patton complained with a small smile on his face.

"Alright, alright." Logan attracted everyone's attention. "Now that we have that sorted, maybe we should relax and try to de-stress for awhile, hm?"

"Sounds super!" Roman exclaimed before picking up a giggling Patton in a bridal style hold.

As Logan and Virgil exited the room, Roman leaned down and whispered to Patton.

"I'm sorry about the video. I shouldn't have overreacted like that. I know you're trying your best."

"Well, I'm sorry too-"

"Ah bupbupbup!" Roman booped Patton's nose playfully. "I thought we said you couldn't apologize anymore today!"

Patton only giggled more in response.

Soon enough all four of them were on the couch watching an array of Disney movies, the earlier events drifting from their minds.

~~~~~

Y'all wanted a stupid title, so there ya go! This fic was super self indulgent, so that's why it is the way it is.

If you ever feel alone or like life isn't worth it anymore, I highly suggest getting some help from a professional. Please don't shut yourself in away from people who care about you, because that will only make things worse. Remember, if you're gone, there's always someone who will miss you, even if it doesn't feel like there is.

General Taglist: @decadentscissorsapricotdeputy @resident-trash-goblin @thefingergunsgirl @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dle @tranquil-space-ninja @wellhellothere09 @lugooble @sander-crossing @disney-princess-patton @obsessedalli @hi-its-tutty Ask if you would like to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #kawaiikat54 fic #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts roman #patton angst #sanders sides angst #tw suicidal thoughts

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

Text

Forgotten Coffee || Darth Vader x Reader

(A/N: yes hi so I wrote this for my good, good friend jojo @obiwankenobiness ,, she came up with this prompt and i ABSOLUTELY had to write it. This is one hell of a big ol fluffy fluff, so be warned! however, it might do you some good after chapter 5 of BaT :’))) speaking of which, I have tagged all my normal people for Bat/FaT,, i hope that’s okay!! one last thing - this is set after the events of RotJ and before the epilouge of FaT. I will link my masterlist below if you don’t know what im talking about/need a refresher!! I hope you all enjoy, ESPECIALLY you, Jojo. Thank you so much for being so kind, and thank you even more for being such a dear friend. ily and I hope this can make you happy, and I hope even more that it’s everything you ever wanted <3 )

Link to Masterlist : [x]

WARNINGS: cursing, small amount of angst, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~3500

~~~

Making a house on your new home planet was the easy part. Making it a home was the challenging part.

It had been about half a year since the fall of the Empire. You and Vader had seemingly just gotten settled into this planet, learning about its climate, weather habits, vegetation and wildlife together along the way. It was quite the beautiful place, and the perfect place to hide.

The planet was far, far away from any known systems, and much further away from any trace of the Empire. The two of you picked the planet for this specific reason; to be away from everyone. However, this hadn’t stopped you from telling his children where the planet was, pinging them a signal once you were able to construct a communication device strong enough.

Was it sort of a risky move? Sure, it was. But you both agreed that his children deserved to know where the two of you were.

Just in case they run into trouble and need our help, was how you justified it.

Vader agreed with this, but disagreed at the same time.

Yes, he did think it was a good idea for Luke and Leia to know where their father is, but also didn’t want anyone to know of the planet. Vader was unnerved, to say the absolute least, that somehow someone would find your new home and destroy it, and him alongside. Or, even worse…

Destroy you.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

Even just picturing you harmed in any way…

It brought back old ghosts to Vader. Ones he didn’t wish to remember or visit him.

All he simply wished to do was live out the rest of his days in peace, here on this nowhere planet with you.

He, however, was finding this difficult to do. No matter how hard he tried, tried for you, his mind would slip back into a state of unbridled worry.

That afternoon was one of those times.

Constructing the house was proving to be much more difficult than you had originally thought. Coming from a village of people who made their own homes out of recycled materials, you had believed that constructing a house should be not much of a problem for you. Granted, laying out the foundations of said house really wasn’t. However, what went in the house was the challenging part.

You knew that he needed certain things to keep him alive and comfortable (his meditation pod and bacta tank), but you never believed that constructing these things would be so challenging. Yes, you were trying to juggle this feat alongside the repairs to his suit, but his accommodations were the far more stubborn and frustrating of the two tasks. With only having the rubble of a crashed Star Destroyer to work with, you had to bullshit your way around a lot of problems you occurred. You couldn’t, however, bullshit too much, because then you would start to jeopardize his health and comfort.

Those were two things you were not willing to gamble with.

With the setting sun creeping in through the windows of your house, you decided that enough was enough for one day. You had battled with the filter to his bacta tank for far too long, and your muscles and bones were complaining because of it. Hobbling your way into the half-furnished living room, you sat down upon the sofa with a long, deep sigh, relief washing over you as your legs got a much needed break.

A sheen of sweat on your forehead, you pulled off your fingerless gloves as quickly as possible, stretching and clamping them as you pulled your goggles off of your face, setting them beside you. With your hands now stretched, you focused on providing some relief to your legs, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe your muscles.

Vader must have sensed that you had completed your work for the day, since he was quick to come in from the garden to see you. Looking up at his large, tall, black frame coming through the doorway, you smiled up at him, your cheeks pink from both the sight of your lover just barely fitting through the doorframe and your raised body temperature from your work. Closing the door behind him, Vader’s gaze went to your face.

“Are you finished for the evening, darling?” he asked you, the bass in his voice nearly making the windows shake.

You nodded your head, making circles with your shoulders to stretch them out, “Yeah, I am. Do you want anything for dinner? I’m not really hungry but I’ll make you whatever you want.”

“That is quite alright.” he said, “I do not seem to have much of an appetite tonight either.”

You ceased to stretch your shoulders at your words, the smile on your face forming into a concerned look as you gazed upon your lover.

This was the third meal in a row that he had refused. It wasn’t a matter of that he felt bad for you making him food, no. The two of you have had that discussion long ago. You were afraid this was a far more pressing matter, and you had a good idea of what it was.

“Love,” you said, your voice lowered to match your concern, “You haven’t eaten since dinner last night… you have to keep up your strength.”

He stared at you for a long moment before saying anything.

“I am aware, darling.”

“Then how about I make you some dinner, okay?” you asked, your tone still soft, “I’ll bring it to your pod like you like it.”

“No. That is not necessary. I do not wish to consume anything at the moment. I thank you for offering, however, dear.”

You let out a small sigh. You loved Vader with every atom in your body, but damn was he stubborn.

“Vee.” you said, your tone now firm, “You’re making me worried.”

He tilted his armored head to the side, the sound of his respirator in your ears, “How so?”

“You haven’t been eating much recently, love.” you explained, “And I’ve been noticing how much time you spend outside… Is there something you need to tell me, dear?”

He simply just stared at you again, taking in the sight of your worried face.

You didn’t deserve to feel such a way. You didn’t need the added stress of worrying about him.

He decided it would be best to tell you what was happening.

He hung his head slightly, “I… I have been troubled, darling.”

“Troubled?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You eyed him for a moment.

That was all he needed to tell you.

“Vee, listen to me, okay?” you said, “No one is going to find us here. The only two people in the entire galaxy that know where we are is Luke and Leia, and there’s no way in hell that they would rat us out. There is literally no reason why the Empire or anyone would come here looking for us. This planet is in the middle of nowhere. We will be okay, dear. I promise.”

He picked up his head to look at you again, making you offer him a small, warm smile in return.

You were so breathtakingly gorgeous to him.

Both inside and out.

He wanted to believe you. He really did.

And he did trust you. More than anyone he ever had, in fact.

But, still..

This feeling inside him, the fear he felt…

He couldn’t shake it. No matter how hard he tried.

Your words did soothe his nerves a certain amount, but still…

This issue would need time.

You both knew this, unconsciously.

He only could pray that you would accept this and stop your worrying.

He didn’t want you to stress.

He loved you far too much for that.

Walking his heavy, large boots over to you, he reached down to your face, giving your cheek a gentle brush with the back of his knuckles.

Your cheeks stained pink again as he spoke, “I appreciate your concern, dear. I believe I will retire for the night.”

Your lips parting, you weren’t expecting him to just go to bed so early and leave it at that. You wanted to protest, to get him to talk about it more, but you knew better than to press the subject.

It took you this long for him to open up to you even a little bit. You didn’t want all your work together to go to waste.

No. Instead, you gave him a little smile and a nod, “Okay, dear. Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too, (F/N).”

With that, he left the living room to your shared bedroom, the weight of his steps making the wooden floorboards beneath him creak and moan. You followed him with your gaze as you watched him leave, noticing how his cape fluttered in the wind behind him.

His cape…

It was quite old now, worn even. The end of it was in tatters, and significantly lighter in hue than the rest of the material.

It looked… sad.

Just like he had been, before you and him came to be a thing.

Your lips parting again, an idea shot through your mind as you processed the sight of his cape.

An idea to you, but he would call it more of a scheme.

A determined smile came upon your face.

You set yourself up for a long, long night, but you didn’t care.

You would do anything, stay up countless nights, if it meant he was at peace and happy.

Once he disappeared into your shared bedroom, you made for your fabric cabinet, setting your scheme into motion.

~~~\

The night had been a long one, that was nothing but a fact.

You had brewed seemingly endless amounts of caf to keep you awake, and your tongue was quite sick of the taste by the time morning had came. You didn’t even realize how long you had worked until you heard the birds chirping outside your window. Looking up from your completed project strewn across your dining table, your felt the bags underneath your eyes as you saw the sunlight creep inside your home as a welcome intruder.

Shit. It was almost time to wake him up.

Rising from your chair, you stretched and yawned as you made your way into the kitchen, stopping in front of the counter and pouring yourself another cup of caf. Bringing the mug to the table, you placed the cup upon it's surface before padding your feet across the hallway to your bedroom. Creaking the door open, you slowly tip-toed your way to his meditation pod, pressing your ear against the cool surface of the metal. Gently, you knocked on the metal, your voice matching as you spoke.

“Vee.” you said, your voice quiet from how tired you were, “It’s time to wake up.”

After a brief pause of silence, you heard the whirr of the pod placing his helmet and mask upon his head. Stepping back, you watched as the pod hissed open, another yawn escaping your lips. Stepping forward again, you reached into the metal container to your love, helping him out of it as you spoke again.

“Morning Vee.” you said as his boots made contact with the floor.

“Good Morning, darling.” he rumbled out, his voice deeper as it shaked off his slumber.

Smiling tiredly up to him, you asked him your usual morning question, “What do you want for breakfast?”

Looking down at you, Vader instantly noticed the dark circles under your eyes. A pang of concern shooting through him, he cupped your face in his large, gloved hands.

“Darling.” he said, “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am.” you said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You look as if you did not get any rest last night. Did something keep you awake?”

You blinked at him slowly in confusion at first, your tired mind making you slow to process. Blinking again as you remembered what had kept you awake, a small smile painted your lips.

“Yeah.” you said, “Something did.”

He was definitely worried now, “What was it?”

“A surprise!”

He tilted his head at this. He certainly was not expecting that.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah!” you exclaimed, taking one of his hands into your own, “Come see!”

Pulling him out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen, you stopped him once he was in front of the dining table. Taking a few steps in front of him, you picked up his surprise from the table’s surface, holding it in your tired, groggy grasp as you presented it up to him with a dopey smile on your face.

He was shocked, but in quite a good way.

A cape?

“I made you a new cape!” you said proudly, showing him the front and back of the cloth.

The new cape was a medium-toned blue, large enough to fit across his broad shoulders, and long enough to just barely miss the ground as he stood. At the bottom of the cape was a thick strip of golden cloth, an intricate pattern woven into it, and the stitching was noticeably hand-done.

It was...

Perfect.

You smiled down at the fabric as you spoke, “I just thought that giving you a little change would do you some good. I know we just got your new hands to work, and we finally got some privacy here on this planet, so I thought I would also make this as a little celebration gift.”

You turned your gaze to him as you continued, a smile still on your tired face, “Also, your old one was really raggedy, so I made you this new one. You can tell me if you don’t like it, though. I won’t be offended. I know it’s kinda out of your style…”

Vader was speechless.

Vader was hardly ever speechless, but he simply could not comprehend the sight before him.

This girl, who he loved oh, so dearly with every fiber, every ounce of his being…

Made something so beautiful, so perfect…

For him.

She stayed up all hours of the night, slaving away at this cape…

For him.

How.

How did he get so damn lucky?

How did he deserve any of this?

This house? This cape?

You?

After everything he had done?

He was sure right then that he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

Realizing that he still hadn’t said anything, Vader responded to you.

“My dear,” he said, his head tilted to the side, “I shall adorn anything you make with pride.”

Another dopey smile coming onto your exhausted face, a yawn came out of your throat, “Really? You like it?”

“Yes.”

You let out a tiny squeal of happiness, “I’m so glad! I’ll iron it after breakfast and help you put it on.”

Vader watched as you folded up his new cape and set it on the table, right next to the cup of caf you poured earlier. Picking up his gaze, he watched your much smaller frame begin to pad your feet into the kitchen.

“Speaking of breakfast,” you said over your shoulder, opening the cabinets to see what kinds of ingredients you had available, “What would you like?”

Vader said nothing, not moving one muscle as he stared at you.

He was… in awe.

How did you do it? He could visibly see the lack of sleep you had gotten, yet you still pressed on. You asked him what he wished to consume without a second thought, ignoring the fact that you were dead tired.

You were so beautiful. So strong.

He couldn’t fathom how he deserved you. How you stayed so strong despite how life had been so cruel to you.

He couldn’t begin to fathom how the universe could make such a perfect human being.

You…

You were the only one in so, so long that saw Vader not as a machine nor a weapon…

But a person. A living, breathing, person.

You did everything for him. You made him happy, you calmed his nerves, you soothed his anger, you listened to his rambles, you made him a house, you helped him to escape the clutches of the Empire....

You saved his life.

…

He loved you.

He loved you so, so much.

He would never be able to find the words to tell you just how much he did.

“Vee.” he heard you say, snapping him out of his awe-struck state, “You’re staring again. Did you hear me? What would you like for breakfast? I’ll make you anything you want.”

He didn’t want anything to consume that morning.

Nothing at all.

He only wanted you. To be close to you, to hold you tight and never let you go.

And he planned to do as such.

Stepping forward across the expanse of food flooring that separated the two of you, Vader watched as a confused expression glinted across your face. You asked him what he was doing, but he gave you no response. Instead, he leaned down closer to your height, wrapping his big, strong arms around your waist. Making sure that you were secure in his grasp, he hoisted you up, slinging you over one of his strong shoulders.

A deep pink blush spread over your cheeks, “V-Vee, what-”

Ignoring your confusion once more, Vader carried you back into your shared bedroom, making sure that you were comfortable yet secure in his grasp. Pushing open the door to the bedroom with his boot, Vader carried you over to the bed in the center of the room, making the blush on your cheeks deepen in hue.

Expecting to get thrown onto the bed’s surface, you were surprised when your love sat upon the bed, his weight making the wood and mattress below groan. Soon after sitting down, Vader moved you so that you were seated in his broad lap, your legs straddling his strong, large waist. Snaking up his arms under your own, Vader pulled you close to his huge chest, getting you as close to him as possible.

Your tired brain making you slower to process what was happening, Vader took it upon himself to help you along, resting his armored chin on your small shoulder.

“Hold me, darling.” he said, his deep voice much softer than normal.

Feeling your heart swell in your chest, you slowly wrapped your arms around his armored neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder armor as you held him tightly.

Vader was much much larger than you, but it made him all the better to cuddle with. His lap was surprisingly soft, despite how muscular he was beneath all the leather, and his grasp around you was so, so soothing. Closing your eyes peacefully, you breathed in his scent as he rubbed one of his hands up and down your back. His gloved hand was quite large, and nearly engulfed your entire lower back.

He was so gentle with you. It soothed you to no end.

You felt yourself start to drift off to sleep, feeling so safe and secure in his arms. Before you could, however, you heard his deep voice speak to you. Since you were pressed to close to his chest, you could feel the rumble of his voice’s bass from within.

“I love you endlessly, darling.” he said, his voice still much softer than normal, “Are you aware of this?”

You were far too tried for words, so you simply nodded your head against his shoulder is response.

Vader let out a satisfied rumble. He could feel every single one of his nerves and fears melt away as he held you, soothing him to no end. Picking up his head from your shoulder, he pressed the triangle mouthpiece of his mask into your hair, making a small smile appear on your lips.

His version of a kiss, you took it.

He rubbed your back with his hand once more, speaking to you again, “Rest easy, darling. I shall continue to hold you until you awaken. Forget about your tasks and rest with me for the day. I shall keep you warm and protect you from all harm, for the rest of time. I love you, (F/N), my darling. You have made my life complete. I wish for nothing more than to be beside you for the rest of my days. You are my entire life, (F/N), my everything. I love you so, so much.”

A small smile still on your face, you held onto your love tight as you felt yourself drift off into sleep. As he promised, Vader held onto you for as long as you slept, nothing but thoughts of you in his mind.

It was a beautiful sight, but one that no other man should ever see. A reformed sith lord, holding onto the love of his life on the planet they had escaped to, in the house that she had built, far, far away from any prying eyes, from any harm.

Your forgotten cup of caf upon the table filled the air with it's scent.

That day, this house was no longer just a house.

But a home.

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur , @finest-trashbag , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii , @elongatedmusk-rat , @shads121 , @muffinbeliever , @sakuramadae , @padme-parker , @khapikat222 , @the-official-memester , @rens-angel , @yvette1703 , @missmannequin , @breakfastpizzagalaxy , @scarletsinsandsnowwithetragedies , @clearnostolgia , @ahs0ka-skywalker , @teddyteddy

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x you #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #usernobie

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

Nobody Compares To You Part 2

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst with a happy ending (If you are a Yugyeom stan, I suggest you skip this one)(I’m sorry, but I had to do it)

Word Count: 10k

Summary: You thought that the feelings you had for your boyfriend Yugyeom were enough to help you move on from your past relationship. But what happens when your ex-boyfriend confesses that he’s still in love with you and regrets breaking up with you entirely?

A/N: Hi guys! So this was highly requested and I was actually debating on whether or not to make a part 2 only because I didn’t know how I would go about writing it, but I wanted to give this couple a happy ending (and to fulfill your requests). I suggest you read part one in order to understand this one a little more. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part to this story and a big thank you to @hello-you-suck for being so patient with me! You’re actually one of the main reasons why I decided to make a part 2 hahaha thank you for all your love and support with my stories! I hope you enjoy!!

Read part one here

“Wait—he said what? You can’t be serious Y/n. He told you he regrets the break up and that he still loves you? You’ve got to be kidding me—and on the same night that shit went down at your parent’s house? No shade towards your mom, she’s a lovely lady; but from what you told me about her reaction to meeting Yugyeom, I just know she probably tried to get in touch with Mark right after the two of you left. I mean come on, it’s not just coincidence that he confesses his feelings for you on the same night you introduce your boyfriend to your family. It’s obvious your family still want the two of you to end up together. You didn’t respond did you?”

You shook your head in disagreement. Both you and Youngjae were currently on break and eating your lunch in the break room. It’s been five days since that extremely awkward dinner with your boyfriend and your parents. Also five days since you received the messages from your ex-boyfriend; telling you that he was still in love with you and that he was willing to give it another try with your relationship if you wanted that also.

When you first received his messages, you didn’t know how to react nor how to feel. You haven’t seen or heard from Mark in over seven months and just like Youngjae was right now, you found yourself curious as to why he just so happened to text you only a few hours after your mom told you that she didn’t like Yugyeom. You knew your mom was still in touch with Mark’s mom and it was understandable—they became good friends even before the two of you started dating. However, the two women had a tendency to plan out the future of your relationship without either of you knowing.

Apparently Mrs.Tuan wasn’t a fan of the girl that they were talking about a few months ago. You wondered what the girl was like and if his mom—or anyone for that matter influenced him to end things with her. But then again, Mark was a grown man; he was old enough to make his own decisions for himself. This entire weekend you couldn’t get his words out of your mind.

If you’re still single, then I just want to tell you that I miss you like crazy and if you still feel the same way that I do, then maybe we can try again? I love you.

He loved you. He still loved you. Those three stupid little words have been repeating over and over in your mind—taunting you this entire weekend. Why did he have to say that—why did he have to text you at all? It’s as if he knew there was a chance you did reciprocate his same feelings even if you may or may not have been seeing someone else. Your heart—whether you liked it or not would always belong to Mark Tuan and this is what you were afraid of.

No matter who you were to end up with—they could be the most handsome, intelligent, talented and successful person on earth and you would still choose Mark over them every single time. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you did find your fingers hovering over his contact; typing out responses halfway only to delete them before you could say anything that would answer his questions. Even if your heart was pleading with you to say something—anything, deep down you knew it wasn’t fair to Yugyeom. Yugyeom’s insecurities that he voiced to you right as you began to drive away from your parent’s house had you rethinking your brief lapse of judgement.

You don’t—you don’t still love him do you?

There was no way you’d be able to tell him that yes—there was still a small sliver of your heart that belonged to your ex-boyfriend; especially because it was obvious that he was genuinely hurt by the way your family treated him so crudely. The next morning when he came to pick you up so that the two of you could go get breakfast together, you were well aware that he was still bothered by the entire situation. He didn’t talk as much as he normally did and he barely even touched his food.

That alone indicated that he was so upset—your boyfriend had quite the appetite, so seeing him only take a few bites of his pancakes before pushing the plate away made your stomach sore. It was only natural though; if you were in his shoes and his family treated you the way your family treated him, you’d be devastated. But you didn’t know if you could keep lying to Yugyeom about your true feelings for him.

He was an extremely kind-hearted and soft spoken person. If you had to describe him in your own words, he was a golden retriever in human form; always happy and upbeat—always putting other people before himself and doing whatever he could to make his loved ones happy. There were some qualities in your boyfriend that you were very appreciative of; no matter how tired he could get from dance practice, he’d always come over and drop you off some dinner. He also had an adorable habit of calling you up on his lunch breaks to see how you were doing—and to make you laugh, he would search up cheesy pick up lines because he witnessed on many occasions how much you would laugh at a lot of the ones he would use on you even if they weren’t all that funny.

Yugyeom made it clear that all he wanted to do was be a boyfriend you could be proud of. He wanted you to love him the way he was falling in love with you—but deep down, as much as he wanted to believe that you were moved on, he wasn’t stupid. The younger boy might not have been the brightest bulb in the bunch, but he was very observant and he could tell that you weren’t yourself. Something was obviously bothering you.

If he wasn’t aware of Mark’s existence, he would have just assumed it was stress from work or school. But now, he couldn’t get rid of the many thoughts that you were distracted by your ex-boyfriend. If only he knew that it went further than just your mom’s distaste in him that led you to think about the man in question. You didn’t have the heart to tell him about Mark’s messages; you knew it would only make him even more timorous and uncertain about your genuine feelings for him.

For the three months of your relationship, not once have you ever shown him any ounce of worry or sign of being upset. You never took your stress out from work and school on him because you never wanted to cause him any unnecessary worry. There were days where you’d tell him you were exhausted and didn’t feel like going out or interacting with anybody; including him and he was always so understanding when it came to giving you your space. However, you were more distant than usual and he just couldn’t stop the feeling that your mom’s brash words had an influence on the outlook of your future together—if there was even a future for the both of you at this point.

He hated thinking like that, especially because he really did like you and since you were his first actual relationship, he felt as though his feelings for you were a lot stronger than they would have been if he had past dating experience. Yugyeom thought the world of you; he didn’t let your family’s negative reactions towards meeting him get in the way of the happiness you caused him or the way anything you did made his heartbeat increase. He thought it was still too early to love you, but he knew what he harbored for you was more than just simple infatuation.

Noticing how your smile never completely reached your eyes as it used to in the beginning of your relationship and how you were not being as interactive with him or putting in the same amount of effort in to the relationship that he was—he just knew there was a huge chance your heart was no longer in it. You may have enjoyed his presence; or just enjoyed him as an individual. Yugyeom had like to think that he was a good boyfriend and you praised him multiple times about his kind hearted and extremely generous nature. He might not have been what Mark was to you when the two of you were still together—nor did he probably mean as much to you as your ex-boyfriend did, but he wanted to think that he was worth it—that he was enough to help you move on.

That he could be the lucky guy that got to love you for the rest of your lives; but it was honestly too much to ask for. When Youngjae first warned him about you and how there was a chance that you still were healing from your past relationship, he took it with a grain of salt. Mark was your ex-boyfriend and like you said on the night of that disastrous dinner with your family, you were no longer with him for a reason. Unfortunately, as the days went by, he found himself becoming more and more unhappier.

It’s like you weren’t even trying to hide that you were upset—at this point, he wished you would just call it quits with him to spare his heart from breaking. But you continued to go on dates with him—you called him and texted him once you finished work, you’d cuddle up to him while watching a movie, you would bring him lunch every now and then to make sure he was eating all his meals on time and you kissed him like nothing was wrong.

If only that could be the case. You knew the way you were acting towards your boyfriend was extremely unfair; especially now that you were aware he knew all about Mark’s existence and that Mark was the reason you were so bothered these days. It wasn’t that you enjoyed hurting him—leading him on or pretending to care about him. Deep down, you knew Yugyeom meant a lot to you and that you were very appreciative of what he has done and continues to do for you.

Honestly, you really wanted things to work between the both of you. He made it adamant that he had feelings for you and that your relationship was one of the only sources of happiness he had in his life—maybe that’s why you continued to stick around. You might not have had the same amount of romantic feelings for him, but you weren’t a heartless person. There was no way you’d allow yourself to hurt him or inflict any kind of pain on him just because he wasn’t who you wished you were currently with. You were also afraid of what were to happen if you did leave him and went back to Mark.

Sometimes, like a book—life and relationships end just like that; in the snap of a finger. No cliff hanger, no sequel—nothing. What if you and Mark used to have was it? What if your breakup was the end of your book—what if you did give your love another try just for it to end the same way or even worse than it did the last time? You wouldn’t have Yugyeom to save you—to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay. It wasn’t like continuing your relationship was miserable—the younger boy was such a wonderful boyfriend, even if you could tell he was hesitant or took some time to plan out how to approach in fear of saying or doing something to upset you. Yugyeom deserved so much better than you—someone who had a clean slate just like he did. Someone who wouldn’t break his heart because she was still hung up over someone from her past. Yugyeom was your present—you should be keeping your focus solely on him but you just couldn’t do it. No matter how much you really wanted to. Little did you know that the future for your relationship was no longer in your hands anymore.

“I don’t know if Youngjae told you, but our company is having a Christmas party in two weeks and I don’t know how he did it, but he talked me in to going and I was wondering if you would like to go with me.”

You were currently sitting on Yugyeom’s lap—your face pressed up against his chest, listening to his heart beat ever so softly while re-runs of the office played on his laptop. Both your schedules have collided in the last week, so you weren’t able to see each other as much—but you got off of work early and asked to spend some time with him. Although he was the one who brought up wanting to see you, you couldn’t help but feel as if something was wrong. The atmosphere felt tense and you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly was out of place. He was more quiet than usual—but you just assumed it had to do with something that happened at practice.

His dance teacher has been hounding on him for almost a month now about perfecting his moves for a specific choreography their dance crew was meant to perform for at least five hundred people at this big theatre near his university, so you believed he must have felt discouraged or nervous. He also didn’t kiss you once he opened the door and allowed you inside—Yugyeom was always quick to place a chaste kiss on your lips which sometimes led to more passionate and heartfelt kisses—sometimes even steamy make out sessions—but tonight, you were the one to initiate the kiss—a couple of kisses actually.

He didn’t pull away and he did deepen the kiss, but you felt as though he was only doing it for your sake. Neither of you really said a word to each other besides what you both did today and if you had already ate, but that was it. Even though you were currently wrapped in his embrace—you didn’t feel comfortable in any way. He might have had his arms wrapped around you, but he wasn’t holding you affectionately. It felt forced; like he didn’t want you to think something was bothering him if he were to push you away or sit far from you.

“Oh—no, he didn’t say anything but I might be busy then—you know, with all the practicing and stuff for the performance—“

“I thought you said it was on the 12th?”

“It is.”

“The dinner is on the 22nd. But it’s fine if you don’t want to go. Maybe we can do something afterward or we can plan to go see the city lights—“

When you felt him take in a deep breath before motioning for you to get off of him, you knew he was going to say something negative or at least something you weren’t going to like. He turned to face you and but his bottom lip; a habit of his that you’ve noticed he would do if he was either nervous, worried or distraught.

“Y/n. I love you.”

Your eyes widened in shock of his revelation. He loved you? There wasn’t anything wrong with his confession; knowing the kind of timid person he was, it had to take a lot for him to say something that could be somewhat intimidating—especially since he had no idea how you felt about him. Those words sparked something inside of you. You knew you liked him—you cared about him and wanted nothing but the best for him, but did you love him?

If you genuinely loved Yugyeom, you wouldn’t let your mind wander over to Mark and the fact that you had yet to respond to him. Why were you even still wanting to? It’s been almost a month—he probably took your silence as your answer. It had to be too late to even try anything with Mark, so why were you going to ruin what you and Yugyeom had just because you were unsure of what your genuine feelings were? His heart was on the line—who were you to be the one that could ruin his entire outlook on love and relationships in general. You’d scar him—he’d probably be terrified of entering another relationship if the two of you were to end things and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing that you were the one who broke him.

“Yugyeom—I—“

“But I’m letting you go.”

Hearing his voice crack as he murmured the sentence in the most quietest voice you’ve ever heard emit from his mouth pulled on your heartstrings and made your stomach sink. When you and Mark first broke up—you were devastated. Since you were together for quite some time and seeing as how he was your first actual boyfriend, you never knew what heartbreak was. You’ve heard what it did to other people—how it made some of them so depressed to the point where they couldn’t find it in themselves to get out of bed.

You believed wholeheartedly that Mark was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, so when things didn’t end up going as planned, it felt as if your entire world was flipped upside down. It had to be the worst feeling in the entire world. You didn’t want to sound dramatic, but you were sure you could have died from a broken heart and honestly, you wouldn’t have cared. Without Mark, you were nothing—completely nothing and there was nothing else really that you felt the need to survive for.

It was pathetic; you felt pitiful. Making someone the center of your life—your world—made you a complete and utter fool. You didn’t realize it until now, but Yugyeom did that with you and you were too focused on everything else going on in your life to recognize that you had something—someone so amazing that would love you and care for you without hesitation. As much as you wanted to be upset with his words—you couldn’t find it in yourself to react.

Sure, you didn’t want to lose him, he was one of the only people that you enjoyed having in your life. His presence calmed you down—he was your solace. He made you laugh and smile on the days where you didn’t even think you could do so. The idea of no longer having him in your life even as just a friend brought tears to your eyes. There was no way you could stay friends with him after this—you couldn’t do that to him or to yourself.

Even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, you knew he must have planned on breaking up with you for a while now. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t see this coming; if you were to treat anyone the way you have been treating Yugyeom, they probably would have left you a long time ago and you wouldn’t blame them. What person in their right mind would want to stay with someone whose heart obviously belonged to someone else? Someone who used to be in a long-term relationship with the person they loved? L

ooking at Yugyeom—you wanted to feel something, anything. You wanted so badly to try and get him to rethink his decision—you’d even lie and say that you loved him to get him to change his mind. But you knew that’s not what you wanted. You couldn’t keep doing this to him—preventing him from truly being happy. From not worrying and overthinking your relationship. From being with someone who would love him and appreciate him in the ways he deserved. The way you should have been doing so yourself.

“Can I ask you why?”

You didn’t feel like you deserved an explanation and you already knew the answer anyway—but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear from him personally so you could inflict pain on yourself for taking advantage of his kindness—his loyalty.

“It took me a long time to even come to this decision. I never understood what love was—I’m twenty-three years old and I had yet to express that kind of emotion. When you came in to my life, I had this sensation in my chest. It was nothing I’ve ever felt before—I always wanted to be around you, hear from you, hold you, kiss you—I love having you in my life. You make—well, made my heart so happy. I told all my friends about you—I even hinted about you to my mom, but I didn’t want to rush anything between us so I haven’t complete told my parents about you. But I was confident that you were someone I could see myself settling down with. I know we only started dating a couple of months ago, but that shows that you mean a lot to me. Unfortunately—I know you don’t care for me as much as I do for you. I can feel it in your hugs and your kisses—I can hear it in your voice and I see it in your eyes. You might be mine in hind sight—physically, but spiritually and mentally you belong to someone else. You might have said you no longer have feelings for him or that I’m the only guy you want to be with, but I think you tell yourself that so maybe one day you’ll believe it. If I didn’t know about him, then I would have just brushed off your constant dazing out as disinterest. You don’t have to say it—you’re still in love with Mark and there’s nothing I can do about that.” He brought his fingers up to your face and wiped away a tear that you didn’t even know fell. His eyes began to water also and his voice was faltering, but you could tell he was trying his best to be strong.

“You mean a lot to me y/n. You always will. All I want is for you to be happy and it’s painfully obvious that you’re not happy with me as much as you play yourself out to be. I know you’re trying to move on—but maybe you should try and see where his mind is at with this entire situation. But that’s only if you want to. I don’t know why the two of you broke up, but when two people are destined to be together—love will always find a way for them. God, I would have never thought I would be the kind of guy to give advice to my girlfriend about going back to her ex. I must be insane.”

You giggled gently before the tears picked up again. What did you do to deserve someone so patient and understanding? Someone who was giving one of the only things that he genuinely cared about in order to make you happy? What person does that? You don’t think you knew of anyone who would sacrifice their happiness and their feelings for someone else—someone that they love who unfortunately does not feel the same way towards them. He pulled you close to his chest and ran his fingers through your hair while waiting for your cries to settle down. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself knowing what you did to him—knowing that you used him in a way for your own personal gain. There was no way you’d be able to look at him or even look at Youngjae without feeling like a terrible person.

“I’m so sorry Yugyeom—I’m so so sorry. You are an amazing person—you’re so wonderful. I never deserved you. Thank you for every single thing that you have done for me. I hope and pray that one day, someone will love you the way you love others—the way you love me. You have one of the kindest and most gentle hearts out of all the people that I know. You’re such a sweet and exceedingly special boy Kim Yugyeom. Please, don’t think any less of yourself because of my failure to recognize what an extraordinary person you are. You saved my life in ways that you will never know.” He cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand and left a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Stop making it sound like you’re a bad person y/n. You’re not. You’re in love and being in love isn’t a crime. Your feelings and emotions are valid. It took your breakup with Mark and your relationship with me for you to realize that he is the lucky man that you want to spend the rest of your life with. Now go. I will always be here for you whenever you need me.”

You were feeling so many different emotions in that moment; your heart felt heavy knowing that there was a huge possibility he was hurting. It was all your fault—as much as you genuinely had an amazing four months with him, you’d be lying if you said your intentions were pure. You wanted nothing more than to move on from Mark and there was no way you’d be able to do that without having someone to move on with.

Someone who gave you the entire world on a silver platter without hesitation. Sometimes, you’d find yourself regretting Youngjae’s offer of setting you up with his friend. Sure, you would probably be in a lot worse shape than you were in right now, but at least Yugyeom’s feelings would have been spared. But then again, you wouldn’t have met the person who changed your life entirely. He might not have been the one who owned your heart, but he did have a huge impact on it. After taking in a couple of deep breaths, you stood up and motioned for him to follow in suit before wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him as tightly as your body allowed you to.

Deep down, you knew you couldn’t stay with him even if you wanted to just to make him happy. It was selfish of you, but like he said—your happiness was all he cared about. You didn’t want to take your pain and suffering out on him any longer.

“There aren’t enough words for me to describe what a wonderful being you are. Please never hesitate to call me if you ever feel alone and need someone to talk to. I don’t want us to have any ill-feelings towards one another—although I could never feel anything but respect for you. Oh—um, do you mind keeping this between us for a while. I don’t think I’m mentally stable enough to receive an earful from Youngjae just yet. I can already hear him scolding me for making such a huge mistake.” He giggled softly—although, the light never reached his eyes. You were well aware he was just putting on an act to please you.

“Will do. Drive safely. Let me know when you get home—if you want to. You don’t have to—“ You got on your tip toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips before walking over towards the table and grabbing your things.

“I will. I promise. Goodnight Yugyeom.”

Right after leaving his apartment, you hastily walked to the elevators and covered your mouth—not wanting the entire floor to hear you cry over what had just happened. It was a lot for you to take in. You were now single, your ex-boyfriend gave you the green light to return back to your other ex-boyfriend and it was all because he had a gut feeling you still harbored feelings for Mark. Honestly, you didn’t even know whether or not you wanted to get in touch with Mark. Were you really going to reach out to him and reconnect with him just like that? Like you didn’t just go through a breakup literally less than half an hour ago?

Did Yugyeom mean that little to you? Could you really do that to him? Then again, if you continued to stay away from Mark, he would probably assume that there was nothing left for the two of you. All of this would have been for nothing. You wouldn’t have let go of someone who genuinely appreciated you—loved, cherished and adored you in ways other girls could only dream of. When you got in to your car, you sat in the driver’s seat for what felt like hours contemplating your decision and weighing out your option. You also found your fingers hovering over his contact—typing out multiple messages but ultimately deleting them.

After giving your situation some time to think over, you not down on your lip nervously as you dialed his number. During your relationship with him, you and Mark always preferred phone calls over text messages and emails. Sure, you’d save each other’s sweet, heartfelt love confessions that you’d send every now and then, but you both preferred talking to each other and hearing the other person’s voice over every other form of communication. If you thought you were nervous hearing Yugyeom tell you it was over between the two of you, you felt as though there was a huge possibility of you throwing up as an effect of waiting for him to pick up.

Ring after ring, you began to lose hope and wanted to give up completely. Maybe it was too late—maybe he found someone new to help fill the void or to try and get rid of you from his life completely. Who knows? What if he went back to his previous girlfriend, the one his mother told you about? Mark wasn’t going to wait forever for you and there was nothing you could do about that. Right as you were about to hang up the phone, you heard a little bit of shuffling before the notification popped up that he answered.

“Hey—sorry, my phone was on the charger and I was in the middle of playing fortnite. Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did something happen?” You tried your best to calm yourself down—hearing his voice for the first time in almost eight months was driving you slowly to the brink of insanity. If just hearing his voice alone was having such a huge toll on your thinking process and breath functioning, what more when you were to see him again in person—if you ever did.

“I—um—yeah—actually no—fuck. I’m sorry, I—I don’t know where to start or what to say really—“

“Y/n, you can tell me the truth. There has to be a reason why you’re calling me this late. I know you well enough to say that you don’t get in touch with someone for nothing—“

“Is it too late? Am I too late?”

The line went silent for a few moments—all you heard was the sound of his breathing and now you were regretting calling him in the first place. You felt so pathetic, of course it was too late. Who were you kidding? You wanted to laugh it off and say you were drunk—you wanted to tell him this phone call was a mistake, but like he said, he knew you well enough—hell, Mark knew you better than he knew himself.

He knew every single thing about you; from your favorite color to your blood type and even weird facts about you like how you love French vanilla ice cream but you couldn’t care less about vanilla bean. He was just so enamored by you and he wanted to familiarize himself with the person he claimed was his soulmate. The two of you may no longer be together, but he wasn’t going to forget everything he learned about you that easily or that quickly.

“If you’re referring to what I think—and can only hope that you’re referring to, then no. It’s not too late. It’ll never be too late. I meant what I said that night. I haven’t stopped thinking about you at all since our breakup. I’m still so head over heels in love with you; I probably always will be and I miss you like hell y/n. But if that’s not what you’re talking about, then please completely disregard what I just said.”

You laughed softly at the idea of Mark getting all flustered at the thought of you wanting to give your relationship another try. You knew him just as much as he knew you. He was probably scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment and his cheeks were probably red from blush. Hearing him say those three words so easily made your heart flutter. It was different reading that he loved you through text messages and actually hearing those magical words fall from his pretty lips. Yugyeom was right—your heart would always belong to Mark no matter how many other guys were to try and replace him—there was no getting over him.

“I love you too Mark. I don’t think I ever stopped. I’ll explain everything to you once I see you again or once we decide what we’re going to do, but for now I think I just want to call it a night.”

The word exhausted didn’t even describe half of what you were feeling in the moment—but you were more mentally drained than physically. You couldn’t get the image of Yugyeom looking so sad out of your mind. It’s as though your brain was purposely taunting you for making decisions with your heart. Your stupid, stupid heart.

“Wait—before you hang up, would it be okay if I come over? I know it might seem too soon and I respect your wishes entirely if you decide that tonight isn’t all that great. I just—I really want to see you—I need to see you. But I will wait however long you need me to. Who knows, maybe you think you want me back in your life tonight, but tomorrow morning when you wake up, you’ll regret your decision—“

He sounded so defeated trying to explain that you might be calling him as a spur of the moment kind of thing or because you might have only missed him as a result of being lonely. From your knowledge, he didn’t know you were in a relationship, but then again, your mothers were notorious for gossiping about what went on in both your lives. That had to be the reason why he texted you all those messages on the same night you and Yugyeom had a disaster dinner at your parent’s house. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you were to find out your mom called Mrs.Tuan and complained to her about your new boyfriend right after you and Yugyeom left their house that night.

“No—no—I want this. I want you. Trust me, I want nothing more than to be yours again. Our breakup—no longer having you in my life—not getting to hear your beautiful laugh that always lifted my spirits and filled my chest with so much warmth, not getting to trace these extremely handsome features of yours while being wrapped up in your embrace—no longer being able to go to bed with you right next to me and waking up to your stinky morning breath—it all sucked. I felt like such a pathetic idiot for crying over you, especially since we both agreed that we needed this break up. I didn’t realize how I was completely nothing without you until I couldn’t reach out to you when life got too hard. I couldn’t function without you around—you’re the sole reason of my existence Mark. I love you—God, you don’t even understand how much I love you.”

“Stop—please stop—you don’t know what your words are doing to my heart right now. I’m going to melt in to a fucking puddle—do you still live at the same apartment? I’ll come over. I have to kiss you—I’m sorry. I don’t even care if you decide that you came to a mindless choice—“

“Yes, I still live there. Now, enough with the nonsense. Shut up and come kiss me.”

You would have never thought in the many months of your breakup that there would ever be a day you would get to have Mark in your life again. Right after the two of you came to the decision to break up in the first place, you thought it was over completely. Breakups are initiated for a reason—to no longer be with that person. As much as you wanted to believe that one day, you and Mark would find your way back to another and that it couldn’t have been the end for the two of you, your minds were made up at that time—if your love was strong enough to last, if the feelings you had for Mark meant anything—wouldn’t you still be in a relationship with him?

No matter how hard life could get for the both of you at one point, shouldn’t your love have been enough to conquer whatever battle you were going through? Hearing him confess every single heartfelt thought of his made your stomach fill up rapidly with butterflies. This was not the way you thought things were going to end up tonight. Just a little over three hours ago, you were running your fingers through Yugyeom’s soft, brown locks—telling him that you couldn’t wait for him to become a renowned hip-hop dancer and that you thought the world of him. Now, you were just minutes away from being in Mark’s arms again—the man you’ve been in love with for almost a decade now.

The same man you were sure you wanted to settle down and spend the rest of your life with. It pained you to admit it—thinking something like this made you feel so selfish and inhuman, but you never saw a legitimate future with Yugyeom. He was a very wonderful person and you were sure he would be an even better husband than he was a boyfriend—but it wouldn’t be for you—he wasn’t meant to be yours just like in a sense; you were never really his.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes—tops. I love you, I love you, I love you—so fucking much. Agh—I’m so excited. I’ll see you real soon baby.”

The excitement and enthusiasm in his voice and hearing the term of endearment gave you a rush of adrenaline. Only then did you realize that you were still parked in Yugyeom’s guest parking. Your apartment wasn’t all too far away from his and seeing as how you were notorious for speeding, you found no problem rushing over to your place with the intent of both showing and telling Mark just how much you’ve missed him. You found yourself running a few red lights—laughing to yourself at your eagerness and impatience.

The love of your life was yours again—you couldn’t wait any longer to see him. It took you less than five minutes to pull up to your apartment structure and you made a beeline to your unit; not caring how you parked—you wanted to clean up the place just a little bit while changing in to some clothes that would make you look more presentable. You were running all around your apartment like a mad woman. Thankfully, you had the motivation to clean and tidy up the day before, so the only thing you really had to worry about was what you were going to wear. When the two of you were still dating, Mark made it known that he couldn’t care less about what you wore—he believed you made any outfit look so good and most of the time, it ended up on the floor anyway.

However, was a huge fan of seeing you in his clothes—they were two sizes too big for you because he loved buying oversized and baggy clothing, and even some of his tight fitted clothes swallowed you whole so anything bigger was practically like a tent on you. You dug in to the depths of your closet for some of his clothes that you still had—you never had the courage to give it all back to him and you always felt like once you were to return all of his things, it really meant there was no turning back for the both of you. You found one of his shirts—one that you stole from him over three years ago because you loved the way it looked on you and he was always vocal about how he did too.

Mark wasn’t the kind of person to grow irritated if you were to take his things without asking. What’s his was also yours and if anything, he would even offer many times to let you use and borrow anything if and when needed. That’s just who he was and it was one of his many traits that you loved about him so much. Right as you changed in to the shirt and a pair of shorts, the doorbell rang and it took every bone in your body not to run over and open it.

No matter how much you were craving to finally have him back in your arms again, you didn’t want to come off as too eager. You took in a few deep breaths in attempts to calm your racing heart and allowed yourself to react naturally to seeing him. Honestly, you didn’t know what kind of reaction you should have expected once you opened the door—but he didn’t give you any time to process his presence before he practically yanked you up against his chest and roughly smashed his mouth against yours.

His kiss felt so foreign yet so familiar—the two of you have kissed many, many times in the seven years you have been together for. Kissing Mark was one of your favorite things to do. There were a lot of different kisses you would share; from slow and passionate to rough and steamy—nonetheless, the way Mark kissed you was always so wonderful and breathtaking—literally. However, this kiss in particular had to be the best one you’ve shared. He had a tight grip on your hip with one hand; grazing his thumb against your lower back while cupping your cheek with his other—melding your lips together perfectly like his life depended on it—as if the world were to end if he didn’t kiss you like he meant it. You smiled widely against his mouth, still trying to accept that this was really happening.

That Mark was currently at your doorstep and kissing you with so much fervor to the point where your lungs were drying up with the lack of oxygen. The two of you continued to make out for a few more minutes; you couldn’t find it in yourself to let go and to your delight, neither did he. Once you felt like you needed to pull away in order to breathe and to recuperate your sanity, you gently placed your hand against his chest and stole one more kiss from his bottom lip before reaching for his hand and leading him inside. You brought him over to the couch and allowed him to sit down before you attempted to find your place right next to him—however, he grabbed at your hips and pulled you on top of his lap; finding a position you would both be comfortable in before leaving a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Hi.” You grinned softly at him before playfully pinching his cheek.

“Hi.”

A part of you felt like you should be finding it weird that the two of you were acting as if nothing was wrong—like the breakup never even happened. Like you didn’t spend the last four months with another man on top of three months mourning over what no longer was. But this was Mark—the man you knew every single detail about from head to toe. The same man who you went through practically everything with. Every high and every low that happened in your life—a Mark was there.

On the days that you cried because work or school could be a little too difficult, he held you like a baby and rocked you back and forth to console you while whispering words of encouragement and comfort. On the days where you achieved success or something amazing happened that you weren’t quite expecting, he would bask in the excitement with you and celebrate in multiple ways to show you just how proud he was.

Mark wasn’t just anybody—your heart—mind, body, soul and spirit belonged to this man. He was your person as much as you were his even before either of you even realized it. Neither of you were obviously the same people you were almost eight months ago, but you’d like to think that the distance ultimately brought the two of you together like an invisible magnet—or a gravitational pull. You snuggled up against him—allowing your body to mold in to his; barely giving him any personal space. You wanted him to know just how much you’ve missed him and how miserable you’ve been without him.

“My shirt looks so fucking good on you as always. It’s like you want me to die before I can even really get to have my way with you. I can’t tell you how fast my heart rate increased when I saw your name on my phone. I had to do a double take. If I’m being honest, I pathetically checked my phone at least five times every single day to make sure you didn’t text me. I couldn’t help myself—I had to hide my phone in fear of not having any self control and calling you up just to hear your response. I know I told you to completely disregard my messages if you had someone else or if you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, but I still kept holding on to this tiny string of hope that you were going to find your way back to me.”

His words felt like a jab to the chest; you thought about this on multiple occasions after receiving his messages. You knew it took a lot for him to build up the courage to text you all that he did; especially since he was unaware of your feelings and relationship status. Your heart began to hurt for him; Mark was a very fragile and sensitive guy. The two of you hardly ever argued but when you did, he was always the first one to throw in the white flag and sacrifice his pride in order to make things right between the two of you.

He’s told you many times that he hates seeing you upset or sad, even more so when he is the reason. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was beating himself up for the last few weeks over the fact that you didn’t respond and it made you feel horrible. You should have at least told him you moved on—or that you were trying to. But you were keeping that window open just in case a night like tonight would happen.

“I’m so sorry Mark. I didn’t mean to ignore you—I’ve been wanting to respond to you right as I got your messages. When I read that you still love me and that you wanted to give us another try, I was over the moon. I couldn’t stop rereading over your messages—but—I was in a relationship. Can I ask you something?” He nodded against your neck and left a gentle kiss against your skin before giving you his full attention.

“That night that you texted me—I brought my boyfriend over for dinner to meet my family. It was a disaster. They were extremely hostile and my mom made it well aware that she did not like him at all but there wasn’t a reason for her to be so rude. He tried his best to impress everyone, especially my mom, but she didn’t even put effort in to pretending that she was the least bit interested. I pulled her to the side and that’s when she told me she would only ever approve of you. She said to stop being stupid and to do whatever I possibly could to get you back. I don’t know why she’s so adamant on us ending up together—well, I know why—we have so many memories together. You’ve been in my life for almost ten years, we got in to this familiar routine of only really knowing each other. You are all I’ve ever known Mark and it took our break up for me to realize and accept that you’re all I ever want to know. I felt so lost without you—you took a huge part of me with you when you left. But what makes us so confident that things are going to work out this time? What if the same reason we broke up the first time causes us to break up again? I can’t lose you Mark—I can’t go through another broken heart—“

His lips were warm against yours and as much as you weren’t the biggest fan of him interrupting you—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss him a lot more now that he was back in your life.

“And you won’t baby. I can promise you that. No more tears—no more breaking up—I can’t be without you, I need you y/n. I don’t know how I went this long without you but let me tell you, I was suffering. Waking up every morning felt like a chore. Interacting with people became so annoying and I hated leaving my apartment. I couldn’t stop thinking that we made a mistake—every single day. I wanted to storm back in to your apartment and kiss you senseless. I wanted to fight harder for you—for us. I’ve known that I wanted you in my life until I grew old and wrinkly even before we became a couple. Every time my mom brought you up in to conversation, I could physically feel my heart break. I wanted to ask her how you were doing—if you found somebody new, if you still had feelings for me the way I did with you, if you regretted the break up—but I didn’t think it would be good for either of us.” He took in a deep breath before running his hands through your hair and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Jinyoung kept giving me that bullshit “if we were meant for each other, we would still be together.” I had to stop myself from socking him in the face. That was complete and utter bullshit. He and Jaebeom kept trying to set me up with all these girls I had no interest at all in. I even left a date like an asshole because I wanted nothing to do with them or just dating in general. I didn’t want to be with anyone if it wasn’t you. The thought of loving someone else made me sick to my stomach. My mom gave me the same earful—telling me to go buy you a bouquet of flowers, a nice piece of jewelry and to ask you for forgiveness. She wouldn’t stop reminding me that you are the best thing to happen to me—like I didn’t already know that and believe that wholeheartedly. I promise she didn’t reach out to me—although, I don’t blame her for loving me so much, I’m amazing—ow! What? I’m being serious!” He rubbed his forehead on the spot where you flicked him before playfully squeezing your butt.

“That was simply coincidence—or maybe it was fate. Maybe your mom talking about how much she wanted us together is what got you to realize that that’s what you wanted too. Like I told you in the text, my mom brought you up to my dad when I went to go visit them. I know it was on purpose—I’m telling you, our mothers are a dangerous pair when they’re together. Maybe we should keep our relationship a secret for a little while—I’m sure they’ll have a field day once they find out and the last thing I need is for my mom to boast that she told me so. Wait—do you mind telling me when you and your boyfriend broke up? I mean, you don’t have to, I’m just curious—“

“He broke up with me—because of you.” He gave you the most adorable look of confusion—obviously not understanding any word you just said and motioned for you to continue.

“I never told him about you when he and I started seeing each other—I didn’t feel like it was necessary. But our mutual friend who introduced us to each other let him know that I had gotten out of a relationship four months prior just to warn him that I might still be healing from the breakup. I never showed him that I was still hung up on you or that my mind and heart was somewhere else—but that night, he put two and two together and asked me if I still loved you. I couldn’t help it—I had to lie to him. I wanted to move on—and I couldn’t do that if I was still making you the center of my world. I thought that if I continuously told him that I felt nothing towards you anymore, I would start to accept it myself.”

You brought your hands up in to his shirt; wanting to be as close to him as possible but not in a sexual way. This was one of your favorite ways of being intimate with him. He was your own personal furnace; his body was always so warm and you had to stifle back a laugh seeing him blush at the feeling of your dainty fingers running along his chest.

“I got your messages right after he dropped me home that night and I’ve been so out of it ever since. He knew I was unhappy—he told me he was aware that I did not love him or care for him the way he obviously did with me. He had a feeling that the dinner is what turned my mood so sour, but he never spoke up about whether or not hearing your name again happened to be the reason why I was so distracted. I wanted to act as if everything was fine—I wanted to pretend that your words weren’t the only things I was putting my focus on, but they were. I didn’t react to his accomplishments as much—I no longer laughed at his jokes or initiated any kind of skin ship. I was only staying with him for his sake and because I was hoping that maybe one day I would reciprocate his feelings. But I couldn’t and I honestly never will. He wanted me to be happy—even if that meant giving me up to someone else. I couldn’t keep leading me on and using him for my benefit. It wasn’t fair to either of us and it made me come to the realization that nobody will ever be able to replace you. I’ll never love anyone or care about anyone the way I do with you. You’re my soulmate Mark Tuan. My special person. It’s going to be you and only you for the rest of my life.”

You looked up at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes—God, how did you live without him for so many months? Seeing tears brim up at his eyes made your heart flutter—he might have told you he loved you on a daily basis, but watching him cry over you just proved how much you meant to him. You pecked him gently before wiping away a couple of tears from his cheeks.

“I love you y/n. More than I will ever be able to tell you—but I can show you every single day through my actions. You mean everything to me. Every morning I wake up and every night before I go to bed, even during the day, my heart longs for you and my mind wanders to you. You’re my entire world baby and I plan on giving you everything you deserve and more. I know we won’t be able to pretend like these last seven months didn’t happen, but I will make it up to you. I promise. I won’t let anything get in the way of you and I. You and me—we’re endgame. I’m going to marry you one of these days and we’re going to live the life we’ve always wanted—together.” You beamed up at him and reconnected your lips together; humming contently in to the kiss.

“Hmmm—that sounds wonderful. Together with you is my favorite place to be.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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smilingleoo · 4 years

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Seokjin Drabble-He cheats on you and the regrets it

Request: Hello love! Can i have broke up series with jin? Maybe it's only 3 parts or 5. Like he's cheating and then regret it 😊😊 i love your writings :33

Author’s Note: Hello! Sorry but I can’t turn it into more than one chapter because I have a lot of other requests, hope you can understand :) I’m also really sorry for the amount of time I’m taking to actually write but K’ve been dealing with some stuff and I have little-to-none time! Well, having said that...enjoy!!!

————

“This is wrong”-Seokjin though as he unclaspped another woman’s bra skillfully. He dragged his full lips through the bare skin of her long neck, planting tender kisses as if she was his lover. But she was not because he already had a partner waiting expectantly for him to arrive home. He was selfishly abusing your undeniable trust by sleeping with other people and was not even feeling an ounce of guilt-“And I know this is wrong”

The woman slid out of his reach and started unbottoning Jin’s pants, her lustful stare conquering every inch of his desire. He sighed and encouraged her with a slight groan when she reached the fabric of his underwear, teasing him while caressing his crotch through the damp cloth.

It for sure was wrong, but he loved every moment of his sin.

()

“Oh, baby”-you exclaimed happily through the kitchen-“You’re already up! I was just making some breakfast...If you can wait for two more minutes, it’ll be done and we can eat together”

“Sorry, I have to go now”-he spoke grabbing an apple from the counter and dashing out of the room. You followed him with your stare, slightly annoyed by his rudeness. You had noticed his strange demanour ever since he came back from the studio three days ago. He had come not only exhausted, which you concluded it was from practice, but also extremely absentminded and distant. The days after were cold too; his morning kisses were gone and the long, lovely messages that would pop on your phone’s screen disappeared.

The longing in your heart was stronger than any thought invading your mind. It was tough having a boyfriend who didn’t even show you love. Did he have any left for you? You weren’t sure anymore.

The day went on as usual, you worked the most part of it. However, you still returned home earlier than Seokjin, which was normal. You left your things on the little shelf stuck on the entrance wall and directed yourself to the bedroom, changing into some comfortable clothes before grabbing your phone and plopping yourself on the couch.

You scrolled through social media for nearly an hour and started to get worried when you didn’t receive any messages from your boyfriend. Although he had been distant for a while now, he never failed to text you if he couldn’t make it for dinner. Worriedly, you searched for Namjoon’s number and dialed the leader with no hesitation.

“Hi, Y/N!”-he greeted you. Namjoon loved you dearly and you cared for him equally. He was extremely happy that his best friend had actually found such an incredible partner to be by his side. Therefore, when you explained why you had called, his frown came as quick as lightning-“He excused himself earlier than usual because he said he had an anniversary date with you”

You had fallen silent.

“Y/N?”

“I’ll call you later”-you struggled to keep your breathing steady-“Thanks for the help, Joon”

“Y/N, wait-”-but you had already ended the call.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as uncertainly conquered your chest, wrenching every inch of space for air to come into your lungs. Your world started trembling and you clutched your shirt for any kind of support. Breathing became impossible and, out of anger as well as disappointment, you had plummeted on the floor struggling to move your body from its sitting position against the wall.

He couldn’t be cheating on you, right?

Your trembling fingers tapped on his contact name and the signature beeping of the call deafened you. One time, two times, three times-you counted every annoying sound the device made. You waited patiently, even though you had ran out of it a long time ago, closing your eyes in the meantime. It stung, everything burnt and ached inside you. Your heart was broken, your energy was drained and your head spinned when suddenly someonepicked up the phone.

“Hello?”-a woman’s groggy voice mumbled through the phone.

“I-Is Kim Seokjin there?”-his name tasted like venom in your mouth. She hummed affirmatively and then shuffling noises were heard, until his soothing voice rung-“Who am I talking to?”

“Don’t even bother coming back home”-you screamed. Everything you had done for him, all the things, opportunities and dreams you had postpone just so you could be with him a little longer. All your support, all your trust, all your love were made out of the most fragile paper and he had burnt them all with just a single flame; lust-“I’ll pack your things and put them outside. I want them gone by tomorrow.”

“Y/N, please! Let me explain...”-he begged.

“Oh! Now you want to talk, Seokjin?”-you laughed-“Now you want to discuss things because you’ve been caught? Save your words for your new woman’s dirty talk, babe. Maybe they’ll be of better use”

And you ended the call.

()

“Aren’t you going to talk to me, Namjoon?”-Seokjin questioned as his friend shook his head disapprovingly-“I cheated on Y/N, not you!”

“They’re my best friend too, Seokjin!”-he screamed-“They didn’t deserve it and you know it! But you are so damn arrogant that you won’t admit it, will you? God, they gave you everything and you just had to mess things up? Why couldn’t you just break up?”

Seokjin didn’t answer. Truthfully, he had been scared. He knew how wonderful you were, how much you would give and do for him. He could say he had taken advantage of such blind love, such trust. But he would be lying for he, in fact, feared the mere though of being alone. He couldn’t think about the what if’s and his future without a partner he could come home to. Maybe he wasn’t in love with you anymore yet he was enamored with what a romantic relationship had to offer him-“Bacause I couldn’t let her go”

“You sound like a psychopath”-Namjoon said.

“Maybe I am”-Seokjin sighed, sitting down while ruffling his hair. Namjoon, reluctantly, took the free spot besides him and snuggled further into the couch’s comfort-“I hate losing her, Namjoon”

“At least you regret it...”-the leader mumbled-“I know it won’t solve things but maybe leave them a message? I guess that would make you less of an asshole”

“Thanks for the support”-Seokjin tolled his eyes.

“Oh, you know you deserve that and more”-Namjoon snickered before pushing himself off the couch and out of the room.

“Yeah, I kind of do”

()

Even though he was the one who ruined the relationship in the first place, Seokjin couldn’t help but feel lost without you in his life. He would get home from a day packed with work, hoping he could eat a homemade dinner prepared by you, only to meet an empty table and cold takeaway in the fridge.

Classy.

He put himself through this life, though. Seokjin knew what he was doing when he decided to sleep with other people. He was fully aware of his mistake and, therefore, consequence but he chose to ignore them for the mere pleasure those actions implied.

He hadn’t seen you since you left. He thought you had changed your life’s course, opting to do things that maybe you couldn’t have done if you stayed with him. Did he feel happy about it? Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t...he wasn’t sure about it.

“Seokjin-ah!”-Hoseok called out-“Are you paying attention?”

The choreography wasn’t even that hard yet Seokjin couldn’t manage to get a single step right. Namjoon, noticing his friend’s poor performance, decided to call for a brief water-break. When everyone went to look for their stuff, Namjoon approached Seokjin and asked-“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know”-Seokjin answered. The eldest sighed, annoyed with himself and his unforgiving emotions, and drink a long sip from his water bottle-“I sometimes wish I hadn’t cheated on them, Namjoon”

“But you don’t miss them, specifically”-the leader explained-“You missed what they did for you...”

But Seokjin wasn’t sure anymore.

You had stuck around with the group, since you had a built a strong bond with most of them. You brought meals, snacks and even pampered Jungkook with those delicious banana milk you specially bought just for him. Saying he was slightly jealous was lessening the whole ordeal. Seokjin’s anger was boiling.

Worst of it all, you seems totally unfazed by his presence. You would Emeterio the room, smile to everyone-even him, the piece of shit who treated you like trash-and continue on with your tasks. Continue on with your life...a life withou him.

“Y/N, you remembered!”-Hoseok smiled as he hugged you from the side. You giggled, which was the most comforting sound Seokjin had heard, and proceeded to send a quick message on you phone. Hoseok’s phone pinged and, out of curiosity, everyone peaked their head forward-“She made a Tik Tok promoting my new mixtape”

“Yeah, I’m not the best dancer”-she scratched the back of her neck-“But I can nail some easy moves!”

“Are you kidding? This is awesome!”-Jungkook vibes with the catchy song as his eyes lit up while your body swayed. Taehyung agreed with a concentrated nod, scanning the screen of the youngest’s phone. Jimin winced at a drastic hip rol and Seokjin frowned because it was his ex-partner they were ogling at-“Those hops are smooth, Y/N! Maybe you should teach us how to loosen up”

“Don’t get too excited kiddo, they’re my-”

“I’d love to!”-you exclaimed, glancing Seokjin’s for a brief second. He immediately understood his mistake and decided to exit the room, resting his back on the cold wall. He needed to stop thinking about you and your stupid ways of making his heart smile. Otherwise, it would be absolutely impossible to forgive himself for cheating on you.

“Seokjin?”-your sweet voice called for him. He automatically titled his head to hear you better, coming face-to-gave with your delicate features he had missed so much. He had come to adore how your gaze soften up with every single caress of someone’s whispers. However, this time, your cold-stone stare pierced his every sense. He backed away slightly-“I just wanted to make something clear”

His eyebrows shot upwards-“I’m still hurt, you know. What you did broke me, entirely. I’m pretty sure you don’t see it that way but it was extremely painful. I’m not trying to play the victim here, though. Everyday I wake and ask myself if I’m even good enough to go outside since the only person I’d fully trusted changed me from some sex. But I keep going and I’m still here, facing you. Facing what caused me so much damage. And you? You’re trying to act as if things were still like before. You’re selfish, Seokjin. You’re a beautiful guy, believe me, and I’m really in live with you but you’re just too into your own feelings. You keep on missing me, I notice, but have you ever asked yourself if I missed you? If I was okay?”

He bit his lip.

“I guess not”-you sighed-“Goodbye, Seokjin”

And as you walked down the hallway, unforgettable perfume tinting the air between both of you, Seokjin never felt so utterly lost.

“Goodbye, Y/N”

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts army #bts seokjin #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin angst #seokjin imagine #jin x y/n #jin x you #jin imagines #jin x reader #bts jin #bts angst #bts drabble

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perseusannabeth · 4 years

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Bottled Up Storms - Chapter 1

So this is something I started writing thanks to a prompt I received (shout out to the anon who sent me that). I’m sorry that this has taken me so long to write, but my job has been kicking my arse so I haven’t had much time to write. I originally was going to write this as a one shot but lmao oops it turned out a little too long and I have too many ideas so now it’ll be a multi-chapter fic.

This is a pregnancy fic for Nessian. I don’t really know much about being pregnant so everything is from google so I’m sorry if I get stuff wrong. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you want to be added to my tags list!

Description: Nesta and Cassian have been living in the Illyrian mountains for some months now, and they had it all figured out. They mostly ignored each other, and seemed to be getting by. However, after one drunken night together, they must deal with the consequences of what they have created together, both the new life they created, and the lives they have created for themselves.

This is also posted on AO3

Word count: 4511

They didn’t talk about the fact that they’d had sex. It was a one-time thing, and something not to be repeated as far as they were both concerned. They had both been drunk and they needed to feel something. There had been tension lingering around them ever since Nesta had been ordered to go with Cassian to Illyria. The tension was normal around the two of them, it had been there ever since they had first met, which felt like a lifetime ago. The tension had built until it was going to burst. That’s what had happened that drunken night.

Nesta found she was fine not talking about what had happened between them. She didn’t want to talk about the mind-blowing sex, the way Cassian had looked at her like she was his world, the way he had held her after, how it had made her feel calm and safe, the way she’d had the best nights sleep since Gods know when, the way she had woken up to him staring at her with such love and wonder that she couldn’t breathe. Cassian hadn’t spoken about it either. He had just watched her as she left his room. The weight of his gaze nowadays was suffocating but different reasons. Now it was heavy with the memories of that night, of what they could be if she wasn’t so broken, and if she hadn’t been such a coward and left.

Nesta was content to go about her life at the blasted camp her sister had dumped her at, barely seeing Cassian. She carried on with her routine of going to see Emerie in the shop. She would help if she needed it, but Emerie so rarely had customers that she did things herself just so she could keep busy. After spending a few hours with Emerie, sometimes talking and sometimes sitting in comfortable silence, she would wander around the camp, sometimes watching the training of the women, sometimes tiring and going to the cabin she shared with Cassian and reading one of her books.

Very occasionally, Nesta would wander down to the healer’s tent and help them. She worked in silence, just doing as she was told, but the work was good for tiring her out and keeping her hands and mind busy. It made her feel useful, something she had not felt in a long time, maybe not ever.

She hadn’t felt the need to drink herself into oblivion like she had done most nights in Velaris. Maybe the distance had helped, but Nesta still couldn’t bring herself to thank her sister for sending her away. Even when she and Cassian had… made their mistake that night, she wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as she could’ve been. She just pretended she was after it had happened so that Cassian wouldn’t talk to her about it. She was eating too, although that was a bit more hit and miss. She was shocked to find that the alcohol she could easily leave, but the punishing her body, the not eating, that was harder to do. Still, she was making progress and eating something is better than nothing. Her lack of drinking meant she was throwing up less, meaning she was slowly starting to look healthier. Her nightmares did cause her to throw up though, so the food didn’t always stay down. She still couldn’t make much of a dent in the food that Cassian plated up for her, but she still felt a small amount of pride for eating what she did.

Which is why she was confused. She was being sick in the morning, despite the fact she hadn’t drank any alcohol since that night with Cassian. She wouldn’t even have it with her meal, just in case her control slipped. The alcohol made her too free, which was dangerous around Cassian.

This was the third morning in a row now, where Nesta had been sick. At first, she had thought it was food poisoning, but Cassian was fine and he always cooked for both of them. Plus, she had felt better later on in the day. She had gone to the healers who told her she wasn’t ill. They had offered to check her over more extensively, but Nesta refused, hoping whatever it was would go away.

It hadn’t. Because of course, of course, things could never be that easy for Nesta. This morning was particularly bad. She was sat on the floor in the bathroom and had been for the past half an hour. She didn’t want to risk getting up because every time she did, she felt sick again. Cassian was (thank the cauldron) at his morning training session, and wouldn’t be back until dinner. She had the cabin to herself for the day to deal with whatever this was.

She decided to move to the sink to rinse her mouth out with water. She didn’t want to risk going into the kitchen to get a glass, just in case she was sick again. As she stood up, her body protested, and her stomach churned. Nesta took a deep breath in the hopes it would calm her stomach, but she had no such luck as she once again leaned over the toilet bowl, slowly sinking to her knees again as she retched again.

Nesta always prided herself on being well aware of her surroundings. However, while she was being sick, she didn’t notice Cassian coming back into the cabin. Nor did she hear his footsteps getting closer and closer as he followed the noises she was making.

Cassian stood in the doorway of the bathroom and stared at Nesta who had now stopped being sick and was leaning against the bathtub, panting. Nesta glared at him, but without as much heat as she would’ve liked, exhausted from throwing up for half an hour.

“Are you alright?” Cassian asked, seeming to break himself out of whatever was going on in his head.

“Do I look alright to you?” Nesta bit back, taking deep breaths as her stomach churned again. She closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle, hoping that the cool feeling of the bathtub against her would help.

“A little too much fun last night?”

“Yes, it was a joy, sitting in my room all night, reading my book until I fall asleep, not having to be around you,” Nesta replied, angry that he would imply she had been drinking.

He seemed thrown by that. They both knew that she wouldn’t lie about the drinking, she had never felt the need to before. She wasn’t ashamed of her chosen coping habit, it wasn’t hurting anyone else, just herself. It shouldn’t bother everyone as much as it does, but if they choose to worry about her drinking habit then that’s on them, she didn’t care. Or so she would keep telling herself.

“I… are you saying you haven’t been drinking?” Cassian asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“I haven’t drank any alcohol since-” she cut herself off, unable to say that she hadn’t touched alcohol since that night they had shared.

Thankfully, Cassian seemed to realise what she was about to say and just cleared his throat awkwardly and gave her a small nod. “Okay then, shall I get a healer?”

“No, I’ll go down myself, I’m fine now anyway.” Nesta tried to slowly move, but it was no use. Her stomach churned again as she turned quickly to the toilet before being sick again.

Nesta’s whole body shook as she was sick, she could feel her energy draining with each time she heaved, her nose and mouth, filling with the acidic smell and taste of her vomit. She couldn’t believe she was vomiting this much, not when she didn’t think she had this much lining her stomach to even get rid of in the first place. She felt a warm hand slowly rub her back as she threw up, so softly it hurt her heart.

Eventually, her body stopped, perhaps running out of things to force out of her, although Nesta was not very hopeful. Her body was clearly punishing her for all the havoc she had caused when she was drinking her meals. She leaned back against the bathtub once again, Cassian’s hand still so soft and warm on her back. She could feel the liquid around her nose, mouth and the tears that had escaped as she had been sick leaving marks down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, wishing Cassian was anywhere but here, wishing he wasn’t seeing her like this.

Perhaps Nesta’s wishes come true quickly, but perhaps that’s only true when her wish is something that will hurt her. Cassian slowly stood up and left her in the bathroom. He returned briefly with a glass of water and some tissues to try and clean her face up as best he could. She would have stopped him, and his soft movements as he wiped her face, but she didn’t have the energy to stop him, to yell, to be a bitch and push him away. Not right now. But maybe she could do it without even trying because she closed her eyes and felt him leave, and heard the front door open and shut, and the cabin was once again was empty.

Nesta sat on the floor for what felt like an age. Time seemed to pass differently when you’ve been sick all morning. She waited until she started feeling a bit better, her legs not feeling as weak or shaky, her stomach settling down slightly, her nose stopped stinging, her eyes stopped watering. She slowly moved herself to stand up, trying to keep her movements as smooth and slow as possible, in the hopes it wouldn’t make her sick again.

Her limbs felt too heavy for her, her body exhausted from being sick. She didn’t have the energy to deal with people, she didn’t want to speak to anyone or see anyone. She wanted to sleep. Even though she was sleeping better than she had been, her sleep was interrupted, bitty, and more like she was taking several naps at night rather than getting proper rest. She didn’t bother undressing or undoing her braided hair. She simply walked over to her bed and collapsed, feeling grateful that her room wasn’t far from the bathroom.

She closed her eyes but knew that despite the exhaustion her body was feeling, her mind would not let her sleep. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Cassian’s hand on her back. It was the first time he had touched her since that night. It hurt, that he didn’t want to touch her again unless he had to, but she understood. Things were so messy between the two of them, they needed space between them. Nesta couldn’t think when she was near Cassian, and when he touched her it felt like he had lit a fuse. She was sure that if she hadn’t been otherwise occupied when he had touched her, she would’ve reacted differently. She was glad that she hadn’t since she had been embarrassed enough for one day.

Cassian clearly felt she hadn’t been embarrassed enough, however, because he returned, and she could clearly hear the voice of another person with him. She recognised the voice of the healers from the tent that she helped out in. Their footsteps grew closer, and Nesta, in her panic, decided that she would pretend to be asleep.

“Oh,” was all that Cassian said as he opened the door and saw her fully dressed and asleep on top of her covers. She had been so exhausted that she couldn’t even muster the energy to get under them before they had arrived. “Shall I wake her?”

“It’s okay general, you can go and wait elsewhere. I will wake her up and speak to her,” there was silence, Cassian not moving away like he had been told to. Eventually, he let out a small sigh and walked away into their shared living space as the healer shut the door behind him.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now. You may have fooled the general but that won’t work on me.”

Nesta slowly opened her eyes and looked at the healer. She was short, with dark brown hair, tied in a neat bun. Her wings were clipped, but she seemed to carry herself in a way that suggested she was fairly old even for fae standards, and she wore the typical healers uniform, which was immaculate. In fact, everything about this woman was immaculate, which put Nesta on edge even on a normal day. After three days of being sick every morning, Nesta wanted nothing more to hide under her blanket. She did not give in to her urge to hide, however, and slowly sat up on her bed, hoping not to make the queasy feeling turn into something more again.

“I know we’ve seen each other around the tent, but I’ve never had a chance to speak to you before. I’m Theodora. I heard you were throwing up this morning? Is this the first time you’ve done that?” As she asked the questions, Theodora set her bag down on the foot of the bed and started rifling through it and putting things onto the bed.

“I’m Nesta. And no, this is now the third day this has been happening. It seemed to calm down yesterday afternoon so I hoped that it was just a stomach bug that had passed.”

Theodora looked up at her in surprise. “Three days?”

“Yes although I have been feeling a bit queasy for much longer than that, I just learnt to ignore it.”

“Hmm okay, and how long have you been noticing my queasiness?” Nesta paused, unsure if she should divulge all her secrets with the healer, in case she told Cassian or anyone what she had been suffering recently. As if able to sense her worries, Theodora added, “Nothing you say will be shared with anyone else without your permission.”

Slightly comforted that if someone was to find out at least she would have warning, Nesta decided to share her troubles. “I’ve been feeling sick ever since my last period.”

“How long ago was that?”

“It was supposed to be 2 weeks ago, but it never came. That isn’t unusual though. I’ve put my body through a lot, my periods are never predictable.”

Theodora pursed her lips and nodded to indicate she was listening as she looked through her healer’s bag once more, a small frown on her face. When she found what she was looking for, she inspected it, before looking up at Nesta.

“This is a routine question I ask every female, so please don’t get offended, but is there any chance you could be pregnant? Just so I can choose my treatment method correctly.”

Nesta froze. Pregnant? Surely not. Fae pregnancies were difficult and rare, she knew that. With what Nesta had been putting her body through before coming to Illyria, she wasn’t even sure she could do that right now. There was no way she could be pregnant, could she? But then a flash of blurry memory hit her, stumbling into Cassian’s room, the desperation, ripping each other’s clothes off and “oh fuck could I be pregnant?”

“I, erm, I don’t know,” was all she could stutter in a small voice, her throat constricting, making it difficult for her not to cry. She didn’t know for sure, but she suddenly had a very bad feeling about all of this.

“Right then, we will do a pregnancy test first in that case. I’ll just go get you some water because I’ll need a urine sample to find out for sure,” Theodora smiled at her before walking off towards the kitchen.

Nesta remained frozen on the bed, staring at the open door. She could hear Cassian speaking to the healer, but she couldn’t focus on what was being said, she couldn’t focus on anything. She was pregnant, she knew it as soon as Theodora has asked. This was just another way to punish her. It was probably that damned cauldron’s idea of a joke. Of course, she would get pregnant after the one time she slept with her ma- with Cassian. It was like the cauldron could tell that she would run, avoid him, push him away. But if she was pregnant with his child, then she couldn’t do that. Nesta would need him, would want him to be involved if she had his child.

Before she could go even further into her thought spiral, Theodora came back with a large glass of water, which she handed to Nesta as she shut the door again.

“The general tried to ask me questions, but don’t worry, I put him in his place and told him it was up to you to share any details with him,” Theodora said in a matter of fact tone.

Nesta couldn’t reply, so she simply gave a small nod of acknowledgement and started drinking her water. Once she had finished the entire glass, she put it on her bedside table and finally drew the courage to look at the healer who was now seated on the other end of her bed.

“What happens if I am?” Nesta couldn’t bring herself to say that word out loud yet.

“Then you have options. You don’t have to keep it. But if you decide you do then we can help you learn more.” There was no judgement in Theodora’s voice. Just soft, kind words, letting Nesta take control of a situation which already felt too out of control.

“What happens if I don’t want it.” Nesta could only whisper the question, looking down at her hands to avoid looking at the kind woman sat in front of her. She didn’t feel like she deserved the kindness, but right now she didn’t have the energy to stop her from being so kind.

“Then that is your decision. We would tell you about the process, what we do, how it works. In the end, it would just be like heavy bleeding, nothing more.”

“I thought that fae pregnancies were…” Nesta trailed off, not knowing what she was going to say. Her mind was spinning with so many thoughts, she could barely think straight.

“They are very rare, and when people want to be pregnant, then it is considered very blessed. But not everyone wants to keep that child. Not everyone’s circumstances are happy or healthy. Not everyone can afford to have that child. There are so many factors in pregnancies, not just someone putting their penis in a vagina.”

At the impassioned speech from Theodora, Nesta looked up to see something she couldn’t quite name painted across the healer’s face. All Nesta knew was that she felt understood. She felt unjudged and knew Theodora was not pitying her or the situation she was in. That helped calm the thoughts spinning around in her head.

"I don't know what I want." Nesta looked down at her hands which were folded in her lap as she finally admit out loud what she had felt since she had emerged from that cursed cauldron. Before that, when she was human, things were simple enough. Her ambitions were simply to marry someone so she could live comfortably. As a woman, Nesta was well aware that she needed someone to look after her and provide her. That was not the case for her in this new Fae world, the possibilities seemed endless for Nesta. However, Nesta felt overwhelmed with the amount of freedom she had suddenly gained in this new world, she had no idea what to do with it.

"You have some time. Think about it. It's early days yet. Finding out you're pregnant is always a shock, it can take some time to come to terms with that. There are other options too. Many Fae can't have children, so there's always the idea of adoption. Many loving parents would happily raise your child if you are not able to. You can choose to be involved if you want to, or not at all. The possibilities are endless." Theodora started packing her things away, not looking at Nesta as she spoke, which Nesta was grateful for.

"I... thank you."

"You're welcome. If you need someone to talk to, just know that I will all always be kept confidential. Even the high lord and lady could not make me break my oath to the people I serve. You know where to find me if you need me Nesta." Nesta gave a small nod, still not able to look up at the healer.

“Do you need the bathroom yet?” Nesta thought for a second and then nodded. Theodora handed her a vial and instructed her to try and gather as much urine into the vial as possible, which seemed disgusting but Nesta went to the bathroom to do as she had been told.

She came back and handed the vial to Theodora, cringing as she did. Nesta sat back down on the bed as she watched Theodora put a leaf, which she had kept out of her bags into her urine sample. The leaf floated and started to shrivel up as soon as it was emerged in the urine, turning a funny orange colour with little brown splotches on it.

“What does that mean?” Nesta whispered, not being able to look away from the leaf.

“It means that you’re pregnant my dear.” There was a short silence, as though Theodora was waiting for Nesta to say something, but when she didn't Theodora spoke again, breaking the awkward silence. "I will prepare the herbs you will need to drink in your morning tea and send them along to you. If you drink the tea from the herbs every morning, it should help with your morning sickness. If it persists despite the tea then let me know."

"Thank you," Nesta murmured again, as though unable to think of what else to say in the face of such kindness from a virtual stranger, still trying to process what she had just been told, that her suspicions were correct. Theodora simply nodded and left the cottage, not even glancing at Cassian as she left.

Cassian walked up to Nesta's room after Theodora left, leaning on the door frame and looked at Nesta's pale face as she stared at her hands, but not really seeing anything. It seemed Nesta was miles away, so he cleared his throat in order to get her attention.

"Is everything alright?" His eyes looking over her body for signs of an injury, as though there would be something he could see on her body causing her to be unwell.

"I'm fine," Nesta said, looking up at Cassian finally. He was trying to look casual, as though there was nothing going on, but Nesta could see the tension he was holding in his shoulders. He was worried about her. The realisation came with a large amount of shock. She couldn't quite believe that he was worried about her. Perhaps her shock got the better of her because before she could stop herself, she blurted out "I'm pregnant."

Nesta's eyes widened as she cursed herself internally for not being able to keep her mouth shut. She looked up to see Cassian, to see he had frozen in shock, his eyes wide, staring at Nesta. Nesta could feel her heart beating in her chest, the tears starting to fill her eyes as Cassian said nothing, and just stared at her with different emotions flitting across his face, too quickly for her to guess what they might mean.

"I... who? Is it... am I?" Cassian eventually managed to choke out, his eyes drifting to her stomach almost unconsciously.

"It," Nesta paused, wondering if she should lie, not tell Cassian he was the father, wondering if she could somehow take all of it back. But she knew she couldn't when she saw Cassian looking at her flat stomach. His expression had finally settled on something, and that was hope. Nesta knew after spending time in the Illyrian camps, that Cassian's childhood had been terrible. She knew that Cassian would never, not in a million lifetimes, abandon this baby. "It's yours." She whispered, a tear managing to escape her eye. She quickly wiped it, but knew that it hadn't gone unnoticed. Nothing Nesta did ever went unnoticed where Cassian was concerned.

"Do you want it?" Cassian asked softly. She knew that he would never begrudge her if she wanted to get rid of the baby. She could see, and she knew, that Cassian would love this baby with everything he had, but if Nesta decided she didn't want this baby, he would never hold it against her, and never stop her from getting rid of it. If she allowed him to, she knew he would be with her every step of the way for that too, even if it broke his heart.

"I don't know." She closed her eyes, hoping that it would stop any more tears from escaping.

"I'll stand by you, whatever you choose. You know that, right?" Cassian asked, almost desperately, like he needed to know that she knew this was her choice, and he would never leave her. The desperation in his voice reminded her of the metallic smell of the blood that the ground soaked up, his warm body beneath hers as he gasped for air and told her to leave him to die alone.

Nesta couldn't get the words out, they got stuck in her throat. She choked out a small sob, unable to stop herself, and gave him a small nod, overcome with emotions. Before she could try to compose herself, to put up the icy exterior she relied on so much, she felt something warm and solid wrap around her. Cassian was silent as he held Nesta in his arms, something he hadn't done since the night they had spent together. Nesta finally let herself cry, unable to keep her emotions at bay any longer.

When she felt like she couldn't cry anymore, like she had run out of tears to cry, she slowly pulled away from Cassian's chest, where he had been holding her and stroking her back, telling her everything would be alright. She looked up at the male who had been by her side every step of the way, whether she wanted him there or not.

She could feel her exhaustion taking over her, hitting her like a hammer. She tried to search for something to say, but didn't know how to put into words what she was feeling, not when she didn't even understand her emotions herself.��

"You should rest," Cassian said softly, as he moved her so she was lying down on her pillow. He pulled her blankets over her, smoothed her hair down and kissed her forehead. Nesta was asleep before he had even left the room, feeling calmer than she had any right to be.

Tags list: @hizqueen4life @kelly-fasel @sannelovesreading @acourtofmarauders @maastrash

#my fic #bottled up storms #bottled up storms c1 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acowar #acotar ff #acomaf #acofas #acosf

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