#please ignore me while i try to avoid my feelings at all costs but drowning myself in other obsessions

[rolling-wavves]

My therapist I've been seeing for over 2 years diagnosed me with complex ptsd and I feel so weird about it because I'm like me ?? Trauma?? Don't know her !!!! Never happened!!

She's said she's thought this for a while and after I saw a psych who diagnosed me it just settled it for her like "ok finally". She's also already been telling me I've been through trauma even if I don't believe it.

Still!! Really having a hard time accepting this like...what. what. My life has been Totally Fine don't know what she's talking about!!!

Anyway I feel so weird and I'm rambling but idk what else to do with these feelings tbh

[wandafiction]

In Every Universe - Final Part

Warnings: Fluff, happy ending.

Once again you wake up slowly to the sound of beeping, keeping your eyes closed as you groan slightly at the way your whole body aches. You feel your hand being squeezed, a muffled voice being drowned out by the beeping, and you squeeze it back letting whoever is holding your hand know you are most definitely now awake. 

“Everything hurts so much. Never doing that again.” You mumble as the sound of beeping stops, slightly flinching when a soft hand finds home on your cheek and pushes some hair behind your ear. 

“Can you try opening your eyes for me?” You scrunch your brows slightly as you flutter your eyes open. The bright lights of the medical bay that you expected to be on are turned off and instead there is a small lamp on.

“What happened?” You groan rubbing your free hand against your face as your eyes finally look up to the person standing next to you.

“Hi ba-Y/n.” You see the hesitation in her eyes as they look down to your joined hands realising she is still holding it but when she tries to let go you just hold onto it tighter.

“Hello Miss Maximoff.” You keep your voice quiet, your throat sore and scratchy. “Could I have some water please.”

“Of course.” Wanda’s eyes continue to look at your hands as her thumb runs over your knuckles using her magic to pass you a cold glass of water from the bedside table.

“Thank you.” Wanda looks back at you, and you watch as her eyes take you all in.

“How are you fee-.”

“I'm sorry I don’t remember us.” Wanda’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to think of what to say as her eyes move to look in yours, and you chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry I just, I know from what people have said or the way you call me baby instead of Y/n like everyone else. It was pretty obvious.”

“You don’t have to apologise, uhm, It’s not really your fault you know.” A few tears build in Wanda’s eyes as she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes diverting to look anywhere but you.

“Miss Maximoff.” 

“Please call me Wanda.” She chuckles lightly using her free hand to wipe at her eyes. 

“Miss Maximoff.” You say it with such softness that Wanda doesn’t fight it, not that she likes it, she just doesn’t want to fight a battle she knows she may not win. “My brain may not remember but I know my heart does.”

“Uhm-how- I. What do you mean?” She stutters and this time you don’t ignore the way your heart skips a beat at how flustered and cute she seems to be acting. 

“Well.” You take her free hand in yours bringing it to your chest and pressing her palm against your skin just above your heart. “You feel that.”

“It's beating.” You smile rolling your eyes and Wanda chuckles but then gasps. 

“Yeah that.” She presses her hand against your chest more as she feels your heart speed up.”I want to remember, I do.”

“It may just take time.” She finishes your sentence for you and you nod. “Well it's a good thing I’m patient. I thought I had lost you, for over a year I grieved you. But I can wait for as long as it takes for your brain to catch up with your heart.”

“I’m not sure how long that wait will be.” Wanda uses her magic to move you over slightly in the bed so she can sit criss-cross applesauce next to you.

“Well while we wait. How about we start again?” You quirk a brow as Wanda swivels around to face you, putting her elbow on the railing of the bed and rests her head in her hand.

“And what does that entail?” Wanda smiles cheekily holding her other hand out towards you.

“Hi, I’m Wanda Maximoff.”

/\/\/\/\

“So you’re the new girl?” You spin on your heels at the sound of the voice behind you, your eyes dropping for a second to take her in before they move up to look at her.

“And you are the one they call witchy, no?” Wanda chuckles under her breath, pulling at the sleeves of her grey cardigan as her eyes seem to avoid yours at all costs. 

“Tony sort of asked me to show you around.” You raise your brow, smiling, turning back around to continue your task of raiding the fridge. 

“Well you could do that, or you could join me in my room.” You grab a few things from the fridge, placing them on the kitchen counter and turning back around to look at Wanda, who has a light blush on her cheeks.

“D-do you even know where your room is?” She clears her throat, eyes still avoiding yours as you smile to yourself.

“I do. I got the walking toaster to help me. I only offer because snacks, nachos and movies sounds like a better deal than walking around this maze of a building for however long it takes to actually walk from one end to the other.”

“Well I am meant to be showing you around.” Her eyes finally look up to meet yours, the blush on her cheeks darkening slightly as she lets out a small huff of air. “But I guess I can’t say no to movies and snacks.”

“Exactly, you can show me around some other time. I’m sure boss man Tony won’t mind.” You grab the nachos and sauces walking past her with a cheeky smile. “Follow me witchy.”

“Wanda.”

“Hmm?” You look over your shoulder to see Wanda smiling shyly as she follows you.

“My name is Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.”

/\/\/\/\/\

“Y/n Y/l/n is the name.” You say as you take her hand in yours, shaking it gently.

“Well it is very nice to meet you Y/n.” 

“Likewise Wanda.” Wanda smiles widely as you tilt your head in confusion.

“You called me by my name.” She says under her breath with a rose tint to her cheeks and you can’t help the goofy grin that grows on your face.

“I guess I did, huh. So you come here often?” Wanda laughs at that with a roll of her eyes as you grin wider.

“Still got that cheek of yours I see.” You shrug, the grin not leaving your face.

“Well it's my best quality, can’t go losing it now can I?” You see Wanda’s smile falter a little bit so decide to stay away from that topic. “Anyway, tell me about yourself. Got any siblings? Parents? A partner?”

“Had a brother and parents, but it's just me now.” You note the hint of sadness in her voice but the way she talks about them easily lets you know that she has been able to grieve them properly. “And no, no partner. I just couldn’t you know?”

“Couldn’t what?” Wanda bites her lip as she holds your hand in hers.

“I couldn’t let myself move on. From you.” She rubs her finger against her bottom lip as she takes a shaky breath. “I mean we never found a body, so there was always this small hope that you were alive somewhere. We searched for so long, and one by one the team around us slowly gave up. I didn’t want to give up the hope that you were still alive and have to grieve for you and neither did Natasha. So we kept looking, searching, we never stopped. And then when you raided the compound we managed to capture you and reveal your identity. It was such a relief. But then…”

“But then I had no memory of any of you.” Wanda smiles sadly, tears in her eyes, as she nods a yes. 

“And now I know that you remember a lot of things, but you don’t remember me. It's not your fault but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“They showed me footage.” Wanda scrunches her brows at the sudden topic change as her eyes look to yours which you divert to look at a speck on the wall.

“Who did?”

“Hydra. They showed me the moments after the building collapsed. How you and Nat were dragged away from it and no one bothered to stay to look. You all just left.” You wipe at the tears you feel fall from your eyes, not even realising they had been building. 

“Y/n we came back. Hydra had reinforcements, they came in so many vehicles with tanks. Me and Nat were in no shape to fight and Tony and Steve thought it safer to return that night or the next day to start the search for your body.”

“You left me for Hydra. You left me for dead.” You spit angrily looking at the woman who you are supposedly meant to love. 

“I didn’t leave you. You said it yourself I was dragged away! I was destroyed in that moment Y/n, I had just lost the person that I want to be with for the rest of my life, and here you are expecting me to have just been okay enough to look for their body. Fuck you for thinking I would just leave you, had I known you were alive. Had I been able to feel you, I would have fought off all of those agents just to get to you, just to save you, just to be with you. So don’t you dare think that I left you, when you were the one who died!”

“And yet somehow I still ended up in the hands of the enemy!” You see the hurt spread across Wanda’s face as you turn your head to avoid looking at her, the rage you feel inside slowly bubbling down.

“If I had known you were still alive. I would have fought until my dying breath to stop them from taking you.” Her voice cracks with emotion, and you gently squeeze her hand that thankfully hasn’t let go of your own.

“What did you mean when you said you couldn’t feel me?”

/\/\/\/\/\

You look up to the stars, one arm around Wanda keeping her close the other pointing out the different constellations, the warm blanket keeping out the cold of the autumn night.

“You see that one there. That kind of looks like a saucepan.” You draw invisible lines to each of the stars. “Well that's the big dipper. I think it is one of the most recognizable after that of Orion's belt.”

“Which is that one, yes?” Wanda is quick to point out the three bright stars with a giggle. “See I know some stuff.” 

“Sure you do.” That earns you a gentle smack on your chest as your turn to look at Wanda whose eyes are still on the sky. 

“I mean sure the constellations are cool but it's so much fun to just make some up yourself. I mean this right here.” Wanda is quick to point out a cluster of stars.

“What about it?”

“Well it looks like a snake. So why not call it something like danger noodle, or like murder spurgerter because most of these stars have names I can’t pronounce anyway.” You laugh at Wanda’s idea nodding along.

“You want to know what that danger noodle is actually called?” You chuckle to yourself shaking your head a little as Wanda adjusts her position to have her head laying on your chest, tilting it to look up at you.

“It's not something stupid like slytherin.”

“Oh so slytherin is stupid but danger noodle isn’t?” Wanda shrugs with a cheeky smile.

“”Excuse me if you call my idea stupid, technically you are calling me stupid. And I am not stupid.”

“No you’re not baby.” Wanda nods her head as her hand creeps up your arm to rest on your neck, lifting herself up so her head is hovering above yours. “Hi.”

“Hello.” You chuckle at Wanda’s innocent smile and voice as she leans down to kiss you softly.

“Hydra.” You mumble against her lips and she pulls away confused.

“What?”

“The Murder spurgerter in space. It's called hydra.” Wanda laughs, hiding her face in your neck as you arms wrap around her body pulling her onto you more. 

“Well I guess that makes sense … stupidly.” You kiss the top of her head feeling her relax against you, but not before she takes a deep breath in. 

“Do I smell nice or something?” Wanda simply nods burying her nose into your neck more.

“You smell like home.” You melt at her words.

“You are my home.” You easily reply and you feel Wanda’s hand slip under the collar of your shirt to trace her finger up and down your collarbone, her lips pressing soft kisses around your neck.

“I feel you Y/n.” Her soft voice passes your ear as her lips move to kiss just below it.

“You feel me?” The confusion must have been evident in your voice as Wanda tilts her head, her lips brushing against your jaw and you feel her finger move from your collarbone down to your heart where she rests her hand flat.

“My powers, they don’t just allow me to read people's minds, control their thoughts or lift things. But I can feel emotions that brew within them if it's strong enough. I don’t go looking for it, it's just something I feel.”

“So you can feel all the dark scary feelings inside me when I have a low day?” You bite your lip not wanting to have put that on Wanda but she is quick to shake her head sitting up in your lap with her hands moving to either side of your neck.

“I can sense it, but it just makes me aware that you are having a low day, or days or week. But I don’t feel the emotions that cause that. I don’t experience the feelings but I just know they are there. I can identify them by the energy that is given off. My magic picks up on it. It’s like a sixth sense to me.”

“So you can tell when Bruce is angry, or Tony is having a panic attack or if Natasha is worrying? But you don’t experience it yourself.” Wanda hums with a nod as you try your best to understand. “So what do you feel now? With me.”

“A lot of love. My love for you, and your love for me.” You chuckle, moving your hands to rest on her thighs, your thumb rubbing circles into her soft skin.

“I feel that too, baby. But tell me what do you feel?” She leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss mumbling quietly against them.

“I just feel you.”

/\/\/\/\/\

“Are you even listening?” You suddenly zone back into the room looking at Wanda with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry I zoned out. What were you saying?” Wanda smiles with a huff moving to lay next to you, and when you do nothing to stop her you see her smile to herself.

“I was just explaining how the whole ‘I feel you thing’ works but I can always explain it another time. Did you have another flashback?” She turns her head to look at you, her bottom lip trapped beneath her teeth.

“Yeah, They are coming thick and fast at this point. Some are flashes while others are whole scenes. Hence the zoning out.” 

“Well what was this particular flashback about?” Wanda testingly puts her hand on your shoulder, tracing her finger around the curve of it.

“I’m remembering my family, before Hydra and before the avengers.” You lie not wanting to get her hopes up. “I should feel sad, because I have this grief inside me for my family's death. It's an old grief, because they died so long ago but it’s like it just happened yesterday. I will always grieve for my brother, it’s my fault he died, but I know at some point I accepted their deaths and me being the cause. But now that scar has been reopened and I don’t know how to close it again.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah right, because it was someone else who burnt down the house.”

“Yes you were the one who had the powers but the death of your brother was not your fault.”

“How was it not my fault Wanda? I literally killed all three of them, sure my parents weren’t the best but they are - were - still my parents.”

“I see.” Now you look at her as her eyes move to watch as she fiddles with a loose thread on the collar of your shirt.”

“What do you see?”

“You don’t remember.” Her eyes gloss over as she looks at you, her smile gone as her lips tremble. “Baby, sorry Y/n, your parents were hydra. They knew about your powers, they just didn’t know what you were capable of. You were born and the first thing they did when they realised you had a mutant gene was to pass you to their boss, some crazy scientist for Hydra, and they found a way to enhance your powers. Your parents were tasked with unlocking the gene so to speak, like the stone unlocked my powers for me, they tried everything. So many experiments.”

“They got me so emotional that, I, it - uh- it all happened so quickly.” Wanda’s hand moves to cup your cheek as a few tears roll down your cheeks. 

“I know baby, I know. But Y/n you have to know it wasn’t your fault, everything that happened was because of Hydra and your parents.”

“And my brother?” She smiles softly, her thumb wiping away some of your tears.

“He was just that. He didn’t know. Hydra knew about him but due to him having no powers they believed he could be used to unlock yours in some way. And I guess you being his protector your parents never got the chance to test the theory. But please believe me when I say it wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know all this?” Wanda rolls onto her side moving her hand to brush some hair out of your face. 

“It was maybe 6 months after you arrived at the compound, we had all been called on mission to take down a Hydra base and steal as much information as we could either from their servers or actual paper files. We got a lot, which helped us to take down more hydra bases, to go on undercover missions to destroy them from the inside out. Actually you ended up on one of those missions. Anyway, we found all their files on you. Everything from beginning to end.”

“Wow, uhm, I guess that explains a lot. I won’t forgive them for how they treated me, but it just makes it easier to accept that it was never because I was not enough.” 

“Oh my love, you are and always will be enough.” Wanda seems to realise what she said, removing her hand from your face as her eyes avoid yours. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You smile when you see more flashes of memories as Wanda blushes slightly.

/\/\/\/\

“Baby are you awake.” You groan at the voice behind you, her hand gently shaking your shoulder. “Baby.”

“Yes angel?” You don’t open your eyes, or turn around, and your voice is raspy with sleep.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. You can go back to sleep. I’m sorry.” You hum groggily in reply as you turn your body around to face her, your eyes still closed, and wrap an arm around her waist.

“What is it my love?” You peek one eye open catching the way Wanda nervously bites her bottom lip and you let out a long breath bringing your free hand up to her lip to free it from her teeth. “Angel what is it?”

“Do you want children?” You scrunch your brows at the sudden question, your eyes now fluttering open and you easily see the alarm clock behind her that shows it’s just past 3am.

“Uhm, I’ve never really thought about it.” You answer, trying to get yourself to wake up for this conversation.

“Oh.” You can hear the disappointment in that single word and you feel more awake hearing it.

“No, it's just. No one has ever asked me so I have never really thought on the topic.” You explain as you move to sit up against the headboard with your legs stretched out in front of you and your arms open for Wanda.

“Oh.” Her voice sounds a bit more hopeful as she moves to sit sideways in your lap, her head resting on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her.

“Why don’t you ask me again.” Wanda bites her lip trying to hide a smile, her hands moving to gently grip onto the front of your shirt.

“Do you want children?” her voice is barely a whisper, her eyes not leaving yours as you lean down to kiss her forehead.

“I do. I like the idea of having a mini you running around?” You see Wanda’s eyes light up barely containing her smile anymore.

“You want them with me?” You chuckle softly brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Of course I do angel. I’m going to marry you one day. We will have a house in a quiet town, white picket fence, maybe even a dog. We will go on family adventures or have family movie nights, then we will pass the children off to their grandparents so I can spoil my girl to a date night.”

“Two boys.” You can practically feel Wanda buzzing in excitement at the thought of the future.

“Two boys?” You ask with a wide smile.

“Twins preferably, just like me and Piet.”

“Oh so now I have to deal with two mini yous running around?” You raise your brow as Wanda gently smacks your chest.

“What about if they are more like you? Now they will be so much more of a handful.”

“Yeah you’re right. Having mini me’s would be hectic.”

“It would.” You both fall into a peaceful silence, both thinking about the future before a few moments later you see another thought pass behind Wanda’s eyes as she looks up at you.

It was something that you had grown used to with Wanda - grown to love about her actually - random conversations or questions at 3am. At first you had hated the idea of being woken up so early, but when you realised Wanda would never sleep through the night easily due to nightmares or her insomnia you found it much easier to be woken up and talk with her. Or sometimes just listen as she would tell you a random memory from her childhood. You reassured Wanda that even though 3am may not have been an ideal time to have random thoughts and questions, that you would always be okay with her waking you up. 

It has gotten lesser over the past year or so you have been dating, ever since her break up with Vision, who apparently would never wake up when she was having one of these nights, but they did occur. And you would always wake up for her. And looking at her now, with that child-like look in her eyes you knew she had just thought about the most absurd and random thing in the world to ask you.

“Would you rather have legs as long as your fingers or fingers as long as your legs?”

/\/\/\/\/\

“Another flashback?” Her soft voice brings you back to the present and you can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you look at her, not missing the way her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “What?”

“Would you rather live in the compound and be an avenger the rest of your life or move out to a small town with your wife and two twin boys?” Wanda’s breath hitches as her eyes flick left to right to search yours looking for a lie which she won’t find.

“You remember?” Her voice trembles as tears build in the corner of her eyes.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Wanda bites her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“I’d rather give up being an avenger if it means I get the life I have always dreamt of.” You move your hand to cup her cheek, rubbing your thumbs in small circles as Wanda leans into your touch.

“Did you ever look through my things?” Wanda nods. “Did you find the ring?” She smiles, lifting her left hand to show you the small ring on her finger.

“I haven’t taken it off since the day I found it.” You smile at that, taking her left hand in yours and bringing it up to your mouth to kiss along her knuckles.

“Would you rather marry someone who is slowly remembering who you are or look for new love?” 

You feel a lot of emotion swirling around as you look at the woman you know and love, you may not remember every single moment you’ve had with her, or all the I love you’s. But you remember enough, feel enough to know that Wanda was, is and always be the one for you.

“I would rather have the person I love by my side helping them everyday to become someone they once were but also someone completely new.” You let out the breath you were holding at her words, your eyes meeting hers.

“I know this isn’t very romantic but I have to ask, even though I think I know the answer. Wanda Maximoff, angel, will you marry me?”

“Hmm, let me think.” She taps her finger against her chin pretending to think about it for a moment before smiling cheekily at you. “Yes, I would love nothing more than to be your wife.”

“Yeah.” You smile widely as Wanda nods excitedly.

“A million times yes.” Wanda wraps her arms around you as she lays on top of you, your arms wrap around her body to keep her close as you mumble into her hair.

“I love you in every universe.” Wanda is quick to remove her head from your neck at the sound of your words.

“What did you say?” Her bottom lip once again starts to tremble as a fuzzy smile pulls at your lips and you give her your undivided attention, your hands moving to cup her jaw and her hands move to hold your wrists.

“I love you in every universe.”

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[n0b0dy11]

I Can Be With You ~Remus Lupin

RemusLupin x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Remus Lupin (young) x female reader

Genre: Fluff, bit angst/sadness in the beginning

Tw: swearing? and my awful writing ;) (If you find something you find needed to mentioned let me know)

Summary: Remus has finally let it out, he told her and to his surprise and fear she said it back. Now he is trying to avoid her at all costs, because that would hurt less than forcing her with a werewolf, right?... (this is part 2 of 'I Can't Be With You')

Good to know: Last year Hogwarts, Y/n is Hufflepuff and pureblood, Italic is mostly flashbacks, Y/n (your name), Y/n/n (your nickname), Y/n/l (your last name), June Montegmory (Y/n's bestfriend, if this is your name im so sorry) I used Kaya Scodelario as a reference for her :)

Part one - part two

Enjoy!

Remus had done everything in his power to avoid her, Y/n Y/l/n, other wise known as the girl of his dreams.

It sounded weird and maybe mean to call her such as he had turned her down and yet before that kissed her and professed his liking, (love), for her.

He planted his lips on hers, while his hands found her waist. She melted in his arms, her hands tangling in his hair and her eyes closed. She loved how she could feel the little cut in his lip and how his hands would tighten around her waist when she tugged at his roots.

He loved how her soft lips felt, they were even softer than he imagined. He was getting addicted at her pulling his hair softly and massaging his scalp while he could freely explore her back and waist.

But then flashes from his transformation flashed before his eyes, him hurting Y/n and her screaming for him to stop. His heart sank when he realized he couldn't give her what she deserved, so he pulled back tears pooling in his eyes.

"I can't do this to you. I can't make you love me, I'm sorry."

She looked confused, "You don't have to make me love you, I alre-"

He shut her up with placing his lips on hers again, "don't say that please," he whispered against her lips. "I can't let you love me."

"Why?" she wanted to cry, but she was just so hurt it was numb, while his tears rolled over his cheek.

"I'm a monster, now even more than before. Please, just forget me, and be happy."

His hands left her waist and she already missed his body heat, he wasn't a monster and she would never think so, not even after he left her like this, because that's what you do when you love someone.

Y/n knew he was ignoring her and honestly, it broke her even more. If he didn't want to be with her, fine, but telling her he liked her then kissing her to then just shut her out; wasn't fair.

It was mean, and ruthless.

But it didn't matter, because she couldn't help it but love him, his stupid smile, his stupid fluffy hair, his stupidly cute frown, and his stup-

"Y/n?" June asked.

"Sorry? I wasn't paying enough attention, I'm sorry." Y/n hated what effect it had on her, how she would zone out in class, not hear her friends call to her, and drown herself in homework just so something was on her mind.

She couldn't think of him, yet he never leaves her mind completely.

Everybody noticed the change in her mood, how she always was happy and laid-back, she now was always stressed and looked tired.

Remus noticed this too and he didn't know if it made him guilty or not, and it sure made him rethink his decision every time. It wasn't fair of him to kiss her and then tell him they couldn't be together. He was being immature, and just a grade A asshole.

Y/n was wondering about it almost every time of every day, was it her? Was she in the end not what he wanted, did he just want to kiss her and not even once consider her feelings? What did he mean with being a monster? Nothing made sense anymore, everything was just a spiral of more questions.

"Y/n? You did nothing wrong you know that right?" June was worried about her friend, she hadn't been herself and she couldn't pin point were the problem was.

Of course she had made the connection to Remus, she could see her lingering stares on him and his on her, when she wasn't looking. She noticed how her friend was drowning herself in home work and saying 'sorry' to almost everything that wasn't even her fault.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go," Y/n spoke softly her books clutched in her hands, "homework."

June was beyond furious now, she was hurting so much yet talking about it was something she obviously wasn't going to do. So she was going to talk to the only other person who would know what was going on, Remus fucking John Lupin himself.

.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.

"Talk," June was standing before her fellow prefect, Remus. They had rounds together, she asked to be put together, Y/n was head girl so she wasn't around at the moment.

"W-what?" he was slightly scared of June not gonna lie, she was bloody scary if she wanted to and now she sure as hell did.

"What did you do?" her blue eyes were boring into his and he didn't know how to react. He was maybe slightly frightened by her?

"What are you on about?" he asked, and if he wasn't talking to June maybe the person would've believed he honestly didn't know but she could see right through him.

"Y/n," she responded flatly, "what have you said or done."

He sighed, he knew someone was going to confront him about it, he just wasn't ready for it yet. Their little conversation was almost two weeks ago, and he hadn't bothered to talk to anyone about it.

He just couldn't, and he didn't even know why it broke him so hard.

"Nothing," his voice turned just as monotone and flat as hers.

"yes, she hasn't been doing well, she sin't herself and everybody knows it! For gods sake! All you two ever did was stare longingly at each other, and now she looks at you as if you've burned down her world while you stare at her as if you're looking at a broken china doll."

"I, I made a stupid mistake, but I can't set it right."

"That's the most bullshit reason ever."

"I just," he didn't know why was even considering telling June, he didn't know her and for all he knew she would just blab her mouth to Y/n, "I liked her, no, I- I still do. It's just, I don't know how we would work, and I came to that conclusion after."

"After what?"

"I kissed her," he looked at the dark brunette while her eyes widened, "And then I-I told her we couldn't be together, and left, I fucking left June!"

The dark haired girl stood speechless, she knew of her best friend's crush, of course, but what he did was extremely unexpected at least to her.

Her mouth hung to the floor and her eyes dropped open as if she saw light for the first time in years.

"I know," he sighed,, he already knew she would react like this, who wouldn't?

"Fix it," she said slowly and weirdly soft, gentle. "I know she still has the same feelings and by how sad you sound I'l guessing you do too."

She was right and he knew it, but how would he tell the most perfect girl in his eyes that he was what he was; a monster.

"I'll try."

.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.

The next days Remus was building up courage to talk to her, but she was slowly giving up, she lost faith that maybe he felt the same. It was probably a stupid Marauder prank, it was meaningless.

But why did he kiss her so passionately?

"You've been staring at her for weeks! Please tell me you are finally planning to talk to her again," James pleaded, he was done with his friend being a mopping wolf all the time.

Just as were their other friends, he was always sour around the full moon and they respected it, but now he was sour all the time and even worse at the full moon, that was a few days ago.

"I am, actually. June talked to me while we were doing our prefect rounds, and she told me that Y/n stilled liked me and that I should just talk to her."

"Finally!!" a very dramatic Sirius exclaimed. Which did cause them to get a few weird looks but, they didn't mind, the sour wolf maybe would be gone!

When Remus saw his girl leave the great hall he stood up immediately, he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass.

But just as he was about to follow her he sank down again.

"What just happened, wasn't there supposed to be applause or a kiss or something?" Marlene asked, "Why did he sit back down?!"

"She wouldn't want to talk to me," Remus muttered, "she should just move on, I'm bad for her anyway."

"No way Moony! We aren't letting you throw away this chance again!"

"She's perfect for you! She'd understand, you just have to tell her!!"

"Alright," he mumbled, and stood up again. He was going to talk to her, and he wouldn't let it go badly again.

He almost ran out the great hall but his nerves slowed him a bit down. He searched everywhere, their common room, the kitchens and she was nowhere to be found. So, he was going to look at the last place, the Black Lake.

And that's where he found her sitting with a book in her hand, and head hung low, if he looked closely he thought he could even see a few tears.

"Y/n?" he asked, whispered more like.

Her head shot up from her book but didn't look at him, she just stared out before her at the lake. "What are you doing here?"

He swallowed hard, he knew he had hurt her but seeing her like this, red puffy eyes, anxiety marks on her neck, black circles under her eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks, made him realize how bad he hurt her.

"I- I wanted to talk to you," he sighed, nerves taking over him. He hadn't meant to hurt he, in fact he wanted to make her avoid the pain.

"Why?" she finally looked up at him, "You didn't bother for maybe a month?"

His heart broke even more if it could. He had ignored her for so long, but was so caught up in his self-misery that he didn't notice how she was also counting the days, hours... months, they didn't speak.

"I am sorry," he looked down, he couldn't look at her this moment. "I- I shouldn't have done that and-"

"So it was a prank?" she asked, but more like stated it, as if she expected it to be, "it looked fun to you to just walk up to someone and say you like them... kissing them. Does that seem like a prank to you?"

"It wasn't a prank!" his eyes were now also brimmed with a few tears, while hers were dried, she wouldn't cry in front of him, "did you really think I would do something like that? To you?"

He asked it, but her answer surprised him, " Yes."

The look of hurt plastered on his face grew, she noticed, "How could I not? When somebody says they like you, and even kiss you!, you don't expect them to say you can't be together! So the only explanations are: 1) it was a lie and the person didn't actually love you, 2) it was a prank.

You can't blame me for believing for a moment that you would pull a prank, you're a Marauder after all, maybe even the most brilliant one of them."

She was right, and he could follow her reasoning, it was true, but ti wasn't. It was true that he was a prankster and it could've been, but it wasn't because it just wasn't a prank.

"If I told you it wasn't a prank?" he looked at her, straight in her eyes, "Would you believe me?"

"I don't know," she whispered honestly, "why wouldn't you want to be with me then?"

He sighed, and looked at the ground, Remus couldn't tell her. he thought he was ready to tell her, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Would you really think I'm capable to do such a cruel joke?"

"Remus," she was broken and he could hear it in her voice, but it still sounded amazing how she spoke his name. "i don't, didn't think you would do something like that, but I believed it.

Because everything sounded better than settling on the fact that you..." her eyes filled with tears again, why did he have such an effect on him?!

"That I, what?" he asked gently, he was fighting the urge to just wipe away her tears, he couldn't stand how her beautiful eyes were filled with the salty liquid, and he was the reason what broke him even more.

"That you, you just didn't love me."

He was speechless, he hadn't expected that, yet he was also happy about it. She didn't really expect him to be awful, which was a relief. But if it broke her so much thinking he didn't love her, it would've meant she loved him back, right?

"I- I," he wanted to tell her, to shout it out but how her eyes filled with tears looked into his, he didn't find the words anymore. So, Remus did the only thing where he could express his feelings with without having to say anything.

Kissing her.

At first, she didn't kiss him back, he would probably just pull away and run... again.

But in the end she kissed him back, she just liked the feeling of his lips too much. And if he did run away again, she would at least have this kiss, again...

She started to pull away, but he didn't like that so he reached forward and kissed her even harder and more passionate than before.

Y/n melted in the kiss right away, untill they came in an uncomfortable position, he was leaning sideways as did she. So he pulled her of the ground and placed her in his lap. Where he wanted her to stay, for as long as he could have her;

The beautiful girl, now situated in his lap, pulled away though, after realizing he still didn't really explain himself.

"Why did-"

"I love you."

Now it was her turn to be stunned, "You," she spoke pointing at him, "like me?" she asked doubtfully, while now pointing at herself.

He mimicking her actions pointed at himself, "I love," he started then turned her finger to her, "you."

"Then why did you run away?" she asked.

"Because I was scared," he started honestly, it's now or never, "I was scared you would leave me-"

"But you left me."

"And that was the most stupid thing I have ever done," he chuckled softly and very embarrassed, but it made her chuckle a bit too. "I was scared, you'd be scared of me."

"Why would I be?" Y/n still situated in his lap, asked, putting her hands on his cheeks almost forcing him to look at her, "Can you give me a reason, why I should be scared?"

"I'm a monster Y/n, you deserve way more."

She hated how he talked about himself, she may not know why he thought so, but she knew it couldn't be that bad to make her think the same.

"You are way more than I deserve," why couldn't he just see that he was all she wanted, and that that'll never change, it'll be him in a heartbeat.

"No, you don't know that. You deserve someone, who could promise you the world a-and money, a stable life, a family and not some messed up," he took a deep breath, "a messed up me."

"Tell me then.

Tell me why you are, in your eyes, a messed up someone. Because in the end, it's my decision, if I want to be with you, who you really are with your flaws and your good habits. I'll love you either way."

"Y-you love me?"

"I do, I really do," she smiled sadly, and she pointed at herself, "I love," and while pointing at him she smiled, "you."

"I'm a werewolf."

"What?"

He sighed, he shouldn't have thought so stupidly! Of course she would be disappointed, his head fell and she could feel the tears on her shirt.

"Remus-"

"No, don't. Just don't."

"Remus, listen to me!" his head shot up at her, she had raised her voice but he couldn't spot anger he was confused, now more than ever.

"I'm sorry, if that came of wrong. I didn't mean it, as if I was disgusted, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't care, really. You aren't a monster, you're Remus Lupin, and to me you'll always be."

"But, I'm a-"

But before he could say his sentence she had herself pressed against him, her lips locked with his and her hands in his hair. She couldn't stand it, how he talked so badly about himself.

"Don't say that," she murmured against his lips.

"But, I am one, and you should scream at me and run a-and-"

"Shut up."

"You are not a monster, not to me. You can try to tell me o-or convince me other wise, but it won't work. It wont work. Not on me."

"I don't deserve you, we - I, i can't be with you..."

"No, you can," she stated, "Now it's just the question if you want to be with me. Because I do, I want to be with you and I can, if you let me in. If you would just let me love you.

Remus John Lupin, just let me love you."

"i want to, i so desperately want to be. But I can't let you throw away your life like that."

"I won't," her eyes were boring into his, her face was so close to his, and she looked so kissable, so sweet. Y/n couldn't understand when or how she could make him believe he was what she wanted. She would never, ever want someone else, just him and his love; like he had hers.

"if you love me enough to give me- us a chance, let me know. Because I can't deal with the idea of you not loving me, not being this close to you as I am now. I want to show you that you are and can be loved, everybody who doesn't is daft. Let me love you, please."

His breath was short and a bit delayed, his eyes were watery but his smile was permanently pasted on his face. "I want to be with you," he finally whispered while already dipping his head a bit down to capture her lips between his.

"But, can you be with me? Because you can want to, but are you ready to let me love and care for you? To tell about your werewolf antics, because I want to be there for you.

I don't care what you are, to me you'll always be Remus Lupin, even when you are undergoing your problems.

That's what you do for the ones you love..."

"I can be with you," he stated. He had never been more sure about anything. "I want to be with you, and I'll love you till the end of the line. i just don't want you to get hurt."

"i won't," she promised with a soft peck on his kissable lips, "I won't bring me or you in danger, but I'll be waiting every morning after a full moon and i'll love you either way."

"I love you"

.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.

It had been a few weeks since then. Both couldn't have been happier.

Remus couldn't stop himself from smiling at her every time they passed or he could just see her, his girlfriend.

At first they went on a few dates but he couldn't bare it to not call her his, so he made Y/n his, and his only.

They hadn't told their friends yet, of course everyone noticed the change of mood in the both of them but if someone asked they just shrugged or gave very vague answers.

"Soooo...?"

Remus went straight to his dorm after their rendez-vous, he couldn't bring the smile of his face. They loved each other and he could be open about his problems, they kissed and laughed, they kissed a bit more, and laughed even more...

"What?" the tall boy asked.

"What?" James mimicked, "Tell us!!"

"there's nothing to tell." he shrugged. Very amused at his best friends' interest.

"Moony!!"

Of course Y/n couldn't keep it from June though.

"He asked!" the hufflepuff screamed when she plopped down on her bed next to June's.

"WHo did what?"

"remus, he asked me to be his-"

"Girlfriend?!"

Y/n didn't even respond she squealled with a dreamy smile on her face. June her response was jumping on top of her friend's bed squealling along with her.

"How did he do it?"

"Well,

we were walking around Hogsmeade, and we saw a lake. I started tugging on his arm saying I wanted to ice skate. He laughed at me, but not mean, you know just his dreamy, cute little sm-"

"You're going off topic Y/n!!"

"Right," she said clearing her throat, "we transfigured our shoes to ice skates, and just skated for a while. At first I wasn't that good but he always held my hand so I wouldn't fall and such. Then he told me he had something special he wanted to do, so I skated to the edge while he started making this ridiculous moves.

But then he signed me to come closer again, and I looked down to see he had spelled 'Be mine?' on the ice!!!"

"Oh My Helga!!"

"Moony you've been awfully happy for a full moon Today," Peter said next to him.

"That's because today is special."

"How come."

"be-"

When he started his sentence the door opened behind them and he turned around, making eye contact with the prettiest girl he had ever seen, his girlfriend.

"because I have my girlfriend," he sighed softly. Before walking up to Y/n who had stood still once they made eye contact.

"hi love," he whispered in her shoulder, after he pulled her in a hug.

"He-" but she was cut of be him pressing their lips together again. She just melted into it, ignoring the shouts and whistles from the other students, she was his and he was hers. She didn't care if they could see that, because all that mattered anyway was him and her, them.

"MOONY! I FEEL BETRAYED!!"

You're not alone Siri."

"Why didn't we know?!"

"Let them be!!"

"But Lily-Flower! They just kissed and are still staring in each other eyes while whispering and-"

"It's true love!!"

A smirk came up on James' face, "Like we are?"

She just blushed shaking her head and heading for a table.

"She is right though," Remus whispered to his love, "You are my one true love.

And you'll always be."

A/n

Okay I actually really liked this!! I was supposed to be doing homework but...

Hope you enjoyed! have a great day!!

also the last seen from Lily saying "it's true love" reminded me of this gif...

:)))))

Also reminder to:

@anonymousbabygirl13-blog

Hope you enjoy!

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

[justmeandmysickies]

@angstyaches this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I hope you still like it!

Bonding

characters: Nick and Joe

warnings: emeto

„Please come over, I’m sick.“ That was all Nick had said, before the line clicked, indicating that the call had ended.

Now usually Joe would have called him right back to give him a piece of his mind – he wasn’t Nick’s mother after all – but it was different this time.

Nick was always whiny when sick. His usually so stoic and smug self would be replaced by the attitude of a needy 7-year-old as soon as he had the sniffles. And that was never a reason to worry. He’d be back to behaving like himself after a few days of resting, so Joe usually wouldn’t bother going over there to take care of him. Since Nick would be either sleeping or harassing him 24/7 it was simply not worth it.

But something about Nick’s call had Joe in his car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong. Nick hadn’t sounded whiny. He had sounded like he was in pain. Genuine pain. And Joe didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

He arrived at Nick’s building several minutes later, grocery bag filled with sick-day-supplies in hand.

Joe briefly wondered if his boyfriend had been smart enough to leave the apartment unlocked for him but fortunately the door swung open with ease.

Upon entering the small but cozy living room, he was immediately greeted by Fork, the red cat Nick had adopted just a few months prior to the beginning of their relationship. Joe had never understood that decision – he wasn’t particularly fond of the general concept of having pets, especially not the ones that could kill you in your sleep if they wanted to.

Nick however seemed to love his miniature tiger, so Joe had to live with that. Still, he couldn’t help the face of disgust as Fork rubbed up against his leg, leaving behind a trail of red hair on his black jeans.

Despite his obvious dislike for the cat, Joe stepped into the kitchen to check if his ill-stricken boyfriend had remembered to feed his pet. The food-bowl seemed reasonably full, so he started putting away the few groceries he had bought, ignoring Fork who was looking up at him expectantly as he opened up the cabinet that contained the cat treats.

Satisfied with himself, he closed the cabinets and grabbed some Gatorade for Nick to drink. Now came the hard stuff.

Joe had no idea how to care for other people. His entire life he had been taking care of himself but when it came to others he was at a loss. Maybe it was his lack of empathy. Or maybe it was his fear of things that aren’t in his control. Or he was simply scared that people would see that he actually cared. Whatever the reason, he usually avoided having to take care of someone at all costs. But this was his boyfriend, and he needed his help, so Joe had to suck it up.

And that’s why he braced himself with a deep breath and took off down the hallway to Nick’s bedroom, Fork right on his heels.

Joe opened the door in one swift motion, letting the two of them into the room. It was dark; Nick had pulled all the curtains closed. The sick man himself was only a lump buried in pillows and blankets.

Joe stood still for a few seconds, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was asleep, momentarily forgetting about the cat that had followed him into the room. And before he could stop him, Fork had already jumped up the bed, immediately cuddling close to his owner’s face.

Nick groaned and Joe could have slapped himself. He had probably been asleep before Fork decided to get in his face. “Fork, how the hell did you open the door?” The blonde asked, voice heavy with sleep as he gave his cat a little shove.

“He didn’t.” Joe answered as he stepped closer to the bed.

Nick looked up in confusion. He obviously hadn’t noticed Joe standing there. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

Joe frowned. That was alarming to say the least. “You called me.” He put a careful hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, fearing the worst. Nick just hummed, leaning into Joe’s cool palm, who clicked his tongue in concern. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temperature?” He drew his hand back and Nick whined at the loss of contact.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He mumbled quietly, burying himself deeper in his pillow.

“What do you mean you didn’t feel like taking your temperature? Have you at least taken some medicine?” Joe couldn’t decide if he was very irritated or very concerned.

“No, didn’t feel like doing that either.”

Irritated. He was definitely very irritated. And it took him every ounce of willpower to not yell at the sick man in front of him.

Joe took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’ll get you some medication in a second. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything.” Came the reply from deep within the covers. It was clear Nick didn’t feel like talking but in order to help him, Joe had to know what was going on.

“Babe.” Joe sighed impatiently, waiting for a useful answer.

Nick groaned but stuck his head out from under the covers anyway. He was quiet for a moment, before he answered. “Everything. I’m not kidding. But mainly my ear. It hurts so bad, when I first woke up this morning I actually cried for a while.”

He laughed nervously after the last part, trying to play it off as a joke but Joe knew it was true. Nick was honest when he wasn’t feeling well.

His concern only grew when Nick winced visibly, closed his eyes, and started taking deep breaths.

Joe thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Are you dizzy?” Nick hummed affirmatively. “Feel sick?” Another hum. “Does it feel like there is pressure in your ear or your head in general?” Nick stilled for a second, seemingly thinking about his answer before nodding.

“You have an ear infection.” Joe stated matter-of-factly. Unfortunately, he was all too familiar with the concept. He used to get ear infections all the time as a kid and even as an adult he still dealt with them every other year. The pain could be excruciating, at times having you unable to move. No wonder Nick was feeling so awful.

The latter only groaned, too exhausted to form words or even sentences.

“Alright, here is the deal.” In a way Joe was glad it was an ear infection – that was at least something he would be able to deal with. “I’ll get you some fever reducers and something to drink. You’ll take a bath and then you’ll go back to resting. If this isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll take you to a doctor.”

“Why do I need to take a bath?” Nick whined, once again burying his face under his blanket.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s childish behavior, Joe pulled the blanket lower to expose Nick’s face. “Because you stink. And it might make you feel better.”

Nick wanted to argue but Joe had already left the room to grab some medicine so there really was no point. He returned seconds later with some pills.

The next step was the bath. Nick reached his arms out and Joe pulled him upwards with seemingly no effort. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea. A wave of dizziness hit Nick like a truck as soon as he was upright. If it hadn’t been for Joe, he would have crumpled to the floor right then and there.

Joe held his partner close, encouraging him to take some deep breaths when suddenly Nick’s entire body convulsed with a dangerously wet sounding retch. He was trying to decide whether to get a bucket or get his boyfriend to the bathroom, but Nick made that decision for him as he bolted towards the door, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

He was so dizzy he could barely see where he was going – it was like his body was moving on autopilot. It’s a miracle he didn’t run face first into a wall.

He crashed to the floor in front of the toilet, just seconds before last nights meager dinner made a reappearance, along with the medicine he’d just taken.

Joe went after him hesitantly, wanting to help but not knowing how. He ultimately settled on keeping Nick’s hair out of his face. It wasn’t much but it was appreciated.

The entire ordeal seemed to be a one-and-done thing. The blonde was left panting and spitting excess saliva into the toilet for a while, but his stomach seemed to have calmed down for the time being.

“Why the fuck do you puke, when your ear is infected?” Nick asked breathlessly while wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure it’s cause of the pain.” Joe answered, getting up to turn on the water for the bathtub.

At that moment Fork casually strolled into the bathroom and right onto Nick’s lap where he immediately settled down, purring lovingly. The blonde couldn’t help but smile a bit as he scratched his cat behind his ear.

The three of them sat there in silence for a while, Nick being too exhausted to talk and Joe not knowing what to say anyway.

Joe once again helped his boyfriend to his feet, when the bath was ready, although a lot slower this time. He even helped the sick man undress before he turned to leave the bathroom. “Wash up, I’m gonna change your bedsheets.”

“But I’m too tired to bathe by myself.” Nick whined as he struggled to step into the tub.

Joe turned around slowly, not quite believing what his boyfriend had just said. “Are you telling me that you need my help bathing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please?” Nick pouted, which was a rather bizarre image, considering that he was muscular, over 6 feet tall and covered in tattoos.

The younger man sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting in with you. I literally just showered two hours ago.”

“Deal.”

Turns out, it was a good decision not to leave Nick alone. He was sleepy and if it hadn’t been for Joe, he would’ve probably drowned in his own bathtub. Right now Joe was carefully massaging shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp who was about to drift off to sleep. He had been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to stay awake with the heavenly feeling of Joe’s fingers in his hair.

And the latter didn’t mind. Any other day he’d yell at Nick for sleeping in the bathtub but not today. He could use the rest and Joe was there to watch him, make sure he was alright. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt him. So Joe started rinsing out the shampoo as Nick fell asleep.

Fork, who had been forced to get up from his owners lap several minutes ago, now decided to settle into the brunette’s side. He still wasn’t a fan of pets but maybe he could get used to this one, Joe thought, unable to hide the fond smile that had snuck up on him.

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 1

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Implied Masturbation, crack, humor, flirting

Rating: 18 and over

Y/N:

“Fuck, fuck, god yes!” You shake your head at the sounds of your roommate, jacking off for the fifth time in an hour. You press the volume up on the television trying to drown him out when suddenly he emerges from his room. He is completely out of breath, sweaty, and half naked. His sweats hang shamelessly off his hips. “Did you forget you don’t live alone Hobi? My god!” You sneer. “Sorry Y/N. That last one was for a customer that likes yelling. I’m done for the day. 500 dollars richer! We should grab dinner, on me!” He beams at you, yanking a Gatorade from the fridge and chugging it. “I still can’t believe you have one of those stupid pages.” You roll your eyes. He swallows hard, walking over and plopping down on the couch. “You know Y/N, you’re gorgeous. You’d make a killing on the site.” You cackle at his suggestion. “I would never.” “Never say never. Some of the most elite people at this school are on that site whether watching or streaming content.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Hobi leans back, closing his eyes. “I’ll get my porn for free thanks.” “Ah, but it's so much more than that. It's an experience and sometimes it's not even about sex. I have a customer who loves when I read to her. I mean when’s the last time you even, well you know.” He makes a lewd jerking move with his hand and you laugh out loud. He waves you off, continuing to speak. “True story Y/N. Bedtime stories, it’s the sweetest thing.” “And tell me Hobi, how much do bedtime stories run a person?” “That’s not how this works you know. If you would just look at the site. Anyway, It’s a monthly subscription. If you want specific things, that’s where extra funds come into play and it's all at the discretion of the content creator. I could say no to the sex stuff, but I like it and it makes the most money but it's not a requirement. I mean honestly, have you ever even been on the site?” “No. I haven't, and I have no interest. What would your parents say?” You ask with a raised brow. “Ah! You’re too stuffy. You should subscribe! I have the perfect person for you if you’re ever interested.” “You're out of your mind if you think I would ever pay for something like that.” Hobi laughs, getting up from the couch and heading over to his room. “When you’re ready to lighten up, let me know. Serious Inquiries Only Y/N. Until then I’m going to take a nap.” “Whatever.” You whisper, mulling over the idea in your head. Hobi wasn’t completely wrong. It had been forever since you’d been with someone. You were hyper focused on school and now in your final semester of college maybe it was time to lighten up. “Serious Inquires Only.” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your cell phone and typing that name into your browser. A little glance couldn’t hurt could it? The site pops up immediately but you can’t browse any particular pages without a subscription. The subscription offers pop up and you scoff at the prices:

*$24.99 for one month

*$49.99 for three months

*$149.99 for one year

All subscriptions come with a 14-day money back guarantee cancellation policy.

You roll your eyes and close the window. “Fuck that.” You say to yourself. “You know what I changed my mind about the nap. Let’s just go eat. I’m starved!” Hobi emerges again to grab another Gatorade and then heads back to his room to get ready.

You step out of your room and roll your eyes at Hobi who gives you a wolf’s whistle. “Ready?” You ask, pulling on a black leather jacket over your white crop top sweater, admiring how your black skinny jeans hugging your hips nicely in the mirror of your lobby. “I think we should get steaks tonight. I’m feeling fancy.” Hobi states as you exit the building. “Sounds good. I’ll eat whatever you’re buying.” You say with a laugh. “Ah, ok,” Hobi says to his phone, “Yoongi will join us.” He smirks suggestively, throwing his hand out to hail a cab. “What? Why?” You whine. “He is hungry and I invited him.” “Hoseok! You know how nervous he makes me.” “Still have a crush on him huh?” Hobi smiles, a cab arriving. “No! He’s just brooding, quiet, judging!” “Oh wow! You’re a terrible liar. You know, we are in our last year of University, you should just tell him about this freshman crush and move on already.” “I don’t know why I bother speaking to you. I swear if you’ve told him I have a crush on him, I’ll strangle you.” Hobi laughs, slapping your thigh, as he shakes his head. “You are too wound up. He’s a great guy and friend. You’re the judgmental one Y/N. He actually thinks you’re really nice and cute.” “He said that?” Hobi nods assuredly. You hum to yourself, wondering what other things the two boys have discussed.

Yoongi:

“You’re late.” Yoongi grumbles, not moving his eyes away from his phone. Another Serious Inquiries Only subscriber has come in for his hand kink section. He smirks to himself. Easy money. This one wants him to open a gift box containing lingerie. “I am only 10 minutes late. There was traffic. How long were you actually waiting?” Hobi asks. Yoongi shrugs, looking over Y/N’s exposed tummy and tight jeans. Was she always this curvy? He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Y/N, you look really nice. How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi remarks. Her eyes widen and she tucks her hair behind her ear, fumbling over her words. “It hasn’t been that long. I’m good, you know. I mean, we’ve seen each other around or maybe you just don’t notice. I’m good anyway. How about you?” He smirks, enjoying her flushed face and nervous demeanor. He has always thought she was a gorgeous girl but tonight she looked different, tonight she looked like sin. What he wouldn’t give to grip her hips. “Uh, ok you two, pine over each other inside please. I’m starving.” Hobi cuts in, grabbing the door to the restaurant and entering. Yoongi catches the door to hold it open for Y/N.

At the table, Yoongi finds himself peaking over his menu at Y/N. She looks amazing, fresh faced, glowing even. “What are you getting?” Hobi nudges her with his elbow. “I’m thinking lamb.” “Good choice.” Yoongi states calmly. She looks over at him and gives a small smile. “What are you getting?” She asks Yoongi. “Surf and turf.” He drops his menu, feeling his phone vibrate. He maintains eye contact with Y/N, reveling in the flush of her cheeks. He swears she’s in heat, he can almost smell her. He winks to test this theory, releasing a small laugh as she clears her throat and rubs her thighs together under the table.

Looking over his phone, he smiles as he sees another subscriber join his Serious Inquiries Only page. This one joins his ASMR section, requesting he whisper sweet nothings to her. He chuckles, looking up at Y/N’s furrowed brows. He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket again. “So, Hobi, what are we celebrating?” Yoongi leans back, looking at his best friend. “He made extra cash on that ridiculous website.” Y/N interjects. “She's a prude.” Hobi scoffs. “I'm not, I just feel like you can get porn for free.” “What's your favorite type of porn?” Yoongi can't help but ask. “Excuse me?” Her brows furrow. “Well, it seems like you’re yucking someone else's yum. So, I'm intrigued as to what you find acceptable.” “I'm not yucking anything, all I'm saying is it's not for me.” Hobi cuts in, “OK, ok, let's not get into a debate at the table.” “Not everyone seeks or sells sex on that site anyhow. You should educate yourself before you shoot it down.” “Wow, asshole much? I guess you're on that site seeing as how defensive you are. Sorry if I don't want to pay 150 dollars to watch some guy shoot his load on his chest.” “So, you have looked at the site?” Hobi gives a curt smile. Yoongi laughs as Y/N squirms. “And it seems as if she was in search of some guy shooting his load on his chest.” Yoongi adds, causing Hobi to laugh loudly. “Fuck you both.” “I'm sure as you know, that cost extra.” Yoongi says with ample sarcasm. Y/N sucks her teeth, huffing off to the bathroom.

Hobi laughs and laughs, releasing a sigh as he comes down. “Leave her alone Yoongi. She's just not getting any.” “Fuck Hoseok, why haven't you planned a dinner like this sooner? I'll give that girl anything she wants. She's a fucking Goddess.” Yoongi looks over towards the bathroom as he speaks. “Is that on the record or off?” Hobi asks, waving over a waiter. “Off, besides, she doesn't like me like that.” Hobi just smiles at Yoongi. “What?” Yoongi grumbles. “What can I get you gentlemen?” The waiter asks. “I will have the filet mignon, medium rare. My friend who is in the restroom will have the lamb chops, also medium rare, and surf and turf for the gentlemen to my left.” “Medium rare as well?” Yoongi nods at the waiter, handing over his menu. “Spill it Hobi.” “No can do.”

Y/N:

You take a few deep breaths at the sink, trying to calm yourself. You’re not a prude, granted it's been a while since you’ve been with someone and sure you were a bit of a homebody but that didn’t make you a prude…. did it? You splash cold water on your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. You should’ve put on some makeup. Yoongi was looking hot tonight and here you were looking drab and fresh faced. Why did he make you so nervous? He was always so confident and the way he kept looking at you had you hot to say the least. You needed to just get your head right. It was one dinner and you were home free, back to ignoring each other.

You emerge from the restroom and head back to the table. “I ordered your lamb chops.” Hobi informs you. “Thanks.” You say, resting your chin on your hand, trying desperately to avoid Yoongi’s demanding eye contact. “So, Hobi tells me that you and I will be taking a couple of courses together this semester.” Yoongi states. “Oh, I hadn’t realized.” You say, still avoiding eye contact. “I look forward to seeing you every day.” You laugh out loud at his confession. “Is that so?” “Yeah definitely. I love a woman in uniform.” He mumbles. Your head snaps almost on its own and you nearly melt away watching Yoongi lick his lips. Is he flirting or just messing with me? You weren’t sure but lord you felt it right in your pussy. “Ah, yes, food is here!” Hobi proclaims, the waiter placing plates in front of each of you.

You all begin to dig in, savoring your meals. “Mm, so good, Y/N, let me try the lamb.” Hobi says between chews. You nod, cutting him a slice of lamb. He grabs it with his fork and pops it in his mouth. He hums in delight. “Yoongi! You have to try it. Phenomenal.” Yoongi chuckles softly, chewing his food. “You want to.” You point at your lamb with your fork. He gives you a sly smile that causes you to swallow hard. He nods and you cut him a piece. You look up to find him leaning in with his mouth open. Your mouth falls open and you feel your face flush. “Ah.” Is all he says. You grab your fork, catching the cut piece of lamb and bring it to his mouth. He slowly brings his tongue out, touching the tip of the lamb with it, before wrapping his lips around your fork. You moan just a bit at the sight, feeling your slick move past your slit. “Amazing.” He whispers, never breaking eye contact with you. You nod. “Told you! So good. What a great idea to come here tonight. Go me!” Hobi praises himself while you and Yoongi maintain your locked eyes.

Hobi pays for dinner, refusing Yoongi and your advances to even leave the tip. “It's my treat you two besides, Yoongi’s got next.” He winks. You raise a brow but just shake your head. You all leave the place together. “Yoongi, you should come to our place for a night cap.” Hobi offers. “Ah, I would but I have a bunch of shit to do tonight. Maybe next time. Y/N, so good to see you. We’ll catch up in class yeah?” “Yeah.” You smile. He nods, giving Hobi a handshake and walking off. “Holy fuck! Was he flirting with me all night or was I going crazy?” You turn to Hobi, who sticks his hand out for a cab. Hobi shrugs. “I didn’t notice anything strange.” “Well did he say anything about me while I was in the bathroom?” Hobi smiles wide now. “So, is this an admission that you have a crush?” You suck your teeth. “Forget it Hobi.” “Forgotten Y/N.”

Yoongi:

Yoongi stretches his body wide at his computer, leaning in to review his newest member’s request. He had never wanted to get into the Serious Inquiries Only game but when he saw the extra money it made Hobi on the side he signed up with no complaints. He was very organized though and set very specific rules. First, he never offered sexual favors in exchange for money. It wasn’t that he was against it, he just didn’t have the time to delve into that line of work. He always saw how exhausted Hobi was after just one night of requests and with school and his part time job, he couldn’t commit. Second, he never used his real name nor showed his face. He wanted to keep his anonymity intact. Hobi was cool being recognized around campus, Yoongi wasn’t. He loved being an enigma or flat out ignored because people thought he was cold. He didn’t want that to change. Lastly, he was strict about what he provided. He only offered hand kink and ASMR on his page. At first, he was unsure of how people would respond to it, but it was an instant hit, his subscribers grew by the day. His videos ranged from gripping his bed sheets, to unwrapping silk ribbons, to whispering or scratching in his microphone. For Christmas this past year, he blessed his followers with an ASMR of him moaning. The video was such a hit, he gained 40 followers in an hour from word of mouth alone. After his first year with ‘SIO’, he began offering his yearly subscribers an exclusive gift, a personal video of their choice from either of his categories. He was a success to say the least, earning a sweet living off this side hustle. The only reason he didn’t leave his part time job was because he didn’t know how to explain the extra money to his mother when she visited him. Not to mention, he rather enjoyed teaching kids the piano.

So, here he was at his computer desk, after having gone out and buying black laced lingerie and making sure they wrapped it pretty. He began to set up his camera to shoot his new subscriber her personal hand kink video. He smirked to himself as he slowly undid the black ribbon from around the package, making sure to twirl the soft material around his long slender fingers. He let the ribbon fall to the sides of the package, running his now stretched fingers along the front of the package, smiling again at how his veins bulged out of his hands. He soon tucked his index finger under the lid of the box, sliding his hand down and lifting the lid up to reveal the red tissue paper inside. He gently rubbed the pads of his fingers atop the dressing before gripping it hard into his fist, curling the delicate paper into a ball, and discarding it to the side. He again rubs his fingertips over the contents in the box, this time it’s the Italian lace lingerie he purchased. He licked his lips, even though the camera couldn’t see him do it. He purchased it with Y/N in mind. Imagining how the gorgeous lace would hug her hips perfectly. He pulled out first the thong, allowing it to hang from his middle fingers, then stretching the fabric out to show the detail. He then grabs the bralette, twirling the straps around his index fingers and sliding his thumbs under the back straps to showcase its detailed hand stitching. He next pulls out the garter belt, resting it atop the bralette and thong, he holds it down with one hand, yanking at the clasp and releasing so it snaps back. He places the items back in the box, running both hands down the fabric again, before bringing his hand up and shutting the camera off. He releases a sigh, setting up his microphone now for his next subscribers request, when he decides to make a phone call. “Hey Hobi, what’s your address?” He chuckles at Hobi questioning him. “Just send it in a text. I want to send something to Y/N, anonymously of course.” He smirks at Hobi’s protest. “Just send the address Hoseok, I’ll address it from a secret admirer.” He hangs up without another word, clearing his throat before he begins to record, he always liked to deepen his voice when he records, always sure to keep things anonymous.

Y/N:

First day of classes consisted of nothing more than getting acquainted with classroom locations and professors. This semester you had opted to do more classes online only taking three courses in person. Psych, Critical Writing, and Literature because you felt like you needed a professor to really drill these lessons into your head. “Hobi, I’m leaving, I’ll see you later!” You shout before heading out. You didn’t wait for a reply, running out to catch a cab to campus, too lazy to walk. The school was strict about wearing their uniforms which you hated because they were still stuck in their old ways and you were stuck in a plaid skirt and knee highs. You got to campus with enough time to grab a coffee. “May I have an iced americano please?” You tell the cute barista behind the counter, digging for cash. “Make that two.” Yoongi appears from behind you, handing money to the barista before you can and looking you over. “Nice knee highs.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him. “Thanks for the coffee.” “Sure. Where are you headed?” “Class.” “Obviously. Where?” “Main building. I’m only taking three on campus. You?” “Two in person. The rest online. I think I’m going to pick up some more shifts at my part time gig. I need to lighten the load you know?” You nod at him. “Wanna grab dinner with me sometime?” He asks next. Your eyes pop open. “Me?” “Uh, yeah, definitely not talking to the plant behind you.” “Um, I don’t know. What would we talk about?” Yoongi shrugs. “Life, school, kinks. Whatever you’re into.” He licks his lips. You feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. “Yeah, I um, don’t know about that. I mean what’s with the sudden interest in me?” “Who said it was sudden?” “ICED AMERICANOS UP.” The barista calls out. You move past Yoongi and grab your drink. “I have to go. Thanks for the coffee again. I’ll see you around.” “You sure will, maybe even sooner than you think.” You scoff, walking out of the café.

You hurry towards the main building and into your first class taking a seat quickly. “You’re really quick you know that.” You hear from behind you, turning to find Yoongi taking a seat next to you. “Why are you here?” Yoongi pulls out his phone, flashing you his schedule. “Psych and Critical Writing are my two in person classes.” He tucks his phone away, chuckling at your shocked expression. “I’m going to kill Hobi.” You say finally. “Aw, come on. Don’t blame Hobi. I’m hard to resist. You’ll find out soon enough.” You laugh out loud. “You must not hear this a lot but I am not interested in you.” Yoongi smiles, turning towards you and leaning in. He whispers closely, his breath causing your hair to tickle at your ear. “Oh, my sweet Goddess, it turns me on when you lie. I am just dying inside to find out all the secrets you keep locked away. Just know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I’ll never judge you; I just want to make all your filthy dreams come true.” You shudder slightly, swallowing hard. “I, you.” “Shh, don’t say anything. I’m ok pretending we don’t like each other a little longer. I’m incredibly patient.” “Good morning class.” You professor walks in but you can’t break away from Yoongi’s stare. “I am putting out the itinerary for the class and on it is listed all of your due dates for assignments. You can email me any questions you have but we will meet here in person on due dates only. Welcome to big kid Psych. Enjoy your day.” Everyone, including the professor, begin to leave. You and Yoongi however are still seated, staring at each other. “I have to go.” You mutter. Yoongi smirks. “Want company? I mean we are headed the same way after all.” You shake your head at first but eventually start nodding. Yoongi nods, putting his hand out for you to take. You place your hand in his and practically melt as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

Yoongi:

Yoongi watches as her hips sway side to side, biting his lip. He just can’t help himself; she really is a Goddess in his eyes. He had always had a crush on her but she was always so consumed by school work and the one time she was out and about she dated some piece of shit tattoo artist that dropped out in year 2. Y/N looks back at him suddenly and he quickly lifts his gaze to meet hers. “Why critical writing?” Y/N asks. “It’s a requirement for graduation.” “Not because Hobi gave you my schedule.” Yoongi smiles wide at her. “No. I mean it’s a plus but I really needed to fulfill the requirement to graduate, same as you.” Y/N nods at Yoongi. You both enter the classroom and take your seats. “Where do you work? You mentioned a part time gig.” “At the rec center. I teach kids piano.” “Really? That’s awesome. Not what I was expecting at all.” She laughs, causing Yoongi to smile also, basking in her beauty. “Sorry I’m not some jerk of a tattoo artist.” Yoongi scoffs, looking over at her, realizing he’s fucked up by the expression on her face. “Well, he may have been a jerk in the end but he wasn’t always that way and his work was great.” She huffs. “I didn’t mean to imply his job was…” “Forget it. What do you know anyhow Mr. Serious Inquiries Only?” She snaps. Yoongi sucks his teeth. “I deserve that but I don’t get the reference seeing as how I never said I was on that site. So, I don’t know why you give me shit about it.” She cackles. “Give me a break. Your fancy bracelet and earrings. How about your designer clothes? You mean to tell me that you get that on some shit part time piano gig? But hey what do I know right? Maybe mommy and daddy pay for it like everyone else at this school.” “You mean like you? What do you do for work again?” Yoongi snaps, tired of the uppity bullshit.

“None of your fucking business.” She huffs, standing and moving her seat to a row ahead of Yoongi. He rolls his eyes at her ridiculous behavior. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee.” He whispers to himself with a deep sigh. “Good morning class. Please come up and grab your guide for your end of the semester assignment. You will need a partner so please choose wisely. In addition, I will be giving weekly prompts for you to complete and submit to me via email. Any questions? No? Great! Have a great day.” Yoongi moves forward to grab the assignment. “Wanna team up?” He asks Y/N. “I’d rather drink acid.” She turns and walks away. “Come on. You want an A or not?” Yoongi says. She growls a bit. “Fine.” “I need your number.” “Uh, no.” “How are we going to do this then?” “Call Hobi.” She shouts, leaving the classroom. “Fuck.” Yoongi whispers, fearing he’s ruined his shot with her.

Y/N:

You burst through your apartment, throwing your bag onto the couch. Hobi jumps up and looks at you in fear. “Bad day? How? It’s just day one Y/N.” “Yoongi is a complete asshole. First, he tries to flirt with me, then he insults my relationship with Trevor, then he forces me to be his partner in our Critical Writing class. I hate him Hobi. I fucking hate him! Not to mention all my in-person classes are basically online because the professors are all assholes as well!” You shout, popping open a beer from the fridge and chugging it. Looking down at the counter, you notice a package with your name on it. “What’s this?” You look at Hobi angrily. “Uh, a gift but you know maybe you shouldn’t open it now.” He stutters. You yank the card off of it and open it. ‘These were handpicked for the most gorgeous prude I ever laid eyes on. Xo Your Secret Admirer.’ “This is a joke, right? You’re not fucking funny Hobi.” You rip the box open and your mouth drops at the Italian Laced lingerie inside. “No, Y/N, I didn’t…. this wasn’t me.” “Oh, so who was it then?” He looks at you with sheer panic strewn across his face. “You and your friend are both on my shit list.” You point at him, snatching the box and walking over to your room. “Wait, Y/N, I really didn’t buy that. Please let me explain.” You slam the door in his face, not feeling in the mood to entertain this further.

You look over the items in the box one by one, thinking back to the last time you wore lingerie. You shrug and decide to try it on. You look at yourself in the mirror snapping at the strap of the garter belt, and sucking in a breath as it stings your skin. You glide your hands up your thighs, belly, and cup your full breast, admiring how your nipple rings glint in the light through the fabric. You think back on your relationship with Trevor, he was the one who pierced your nipples. You smile at all the crazy antics the two of you found yourselves in. He enjoyed your wild side but took advantage of it at the same time. It was something that you regretted allowing him the chance to do. After you found out he was sleeping with girls from the tattoo shop he worked in, you broke up with him immediately, throwing all your time and energy into school, forever packing away that side of yourself. It wasn’t until your feelings for Yoongi sprouted that those feelings began to stir again and your wild side came scratching to the surface for freedom. You were just too afraid to free that side of yourself, afraid of being hurt again, taken advantage of. In allowing that fear to take over you though, had you truly become a prude? Perhaps it was time to unleash that side of yourself once more, find a balance. You stood tall, proud, turning and walking into the living room. “Hoseok,” You say with confidence, watching his eyes scan your body wildly, “You said when I was interested in your little website that you had the perfect person for me. Well, I’m interested.” Hobi couldn’t speak, he just nodded slowly. “Great. Whenever you get the chance.” You nod, and turn back to your room, making sure to wiggle your exposed ass with enthusiasm for good measure.

[aprilsrant]

When I kissed the teacher | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) and Oliver finally accept their feelings for each other.

WORD COUNT: 2,065.

WARNINGS: a kiss, (?), a few curse words.

A/N: English is not my first language, if there are any mistakes, let me know! This part wasn’t supposed to be here so soon because I was working on the other fics, but this actually took some of my writer’s block away so here it is. 

This is the final part of the mini series, but I think I’ll do some blurbs about Oliver and this particular reader in the future, like dates, life after Hogwarts, and more.

Please like, reblog or comment if you want!

PREVIOUS PARTS:

Lay all your love on me. (Part 1)

Honey Honey! (Part 2).

MASTERLIST. / WORK IN PROGRESS.

The poor Slytherin girl had been trying to hide her feelings towards Quidditch’s rising star and Gryffindor’s Team Captain, for a little more than a year and a half. It wasn’t necessarily difficult at first since they barely saw or talked to each other, only sharing a few classes and having one friend in common —that was more of an acquaintance to him, which made things easier for a few months—. But then, her friend’s conspiracy to get them together interfered with a plan of her own named “avoiding Oliver Wood for the rest of my school days”. 

Many tutoring sessions followed the first one, Oliver was improving a lot faster than they had expected. “All your work, of course”, he would say with a thick, scottish accent that made (Y/N) nearly faint every time he’d utter a single word. This was actually one of the reasons why she tried to convince him of calling off their meetings, —that and the fact that it was getting harder to conceal her sweaty hands, the fidgeting, the occasional stuttering, the evident stares and, of course, that the girl was unable to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds—. 

Oliver thought differently, he energetically insisted about needing her as tutor more than ever now that he was catching up with Potions and Transfiguration. And once more, incapable of saying no, she agreed, accepting to tutor him for the rest of the year ‘just in case’.

Dorian almost had her head when she talked about the conversation and her desire to stop helping Oliver. He couldn’t comprehend her reasoning, not when his friend was finally getting what she wanted for so long. Ethan and Isla didn’t take his side this time, instead, they supported (Y/N), sympathizing with her logic. 

“If it’s becoming a burden for you, maybe you should tell him,” the Ravenclaw boy advised, concentrating on beating Isla on the game of Exploding Snap in front of him.

“It’s not a burden, it’s just…,” (Y/N) started, the lack of words interrupting her sentence, “I don’t know how to explain it.”

The only Gryffindor in the Multicolour Quartet —horrible name indeed and his idea— kept quiet. He wanted (Y/N) to be happy, so why was she giving up her chance to actually be happy with the boy she liked for more than a year?

No one spoke about Oliver again that Wednesday afternoon on the Courtyard, a pact to keep quiet about the subject forming silently between them. 

By the group’s seventh, and last, year at Hogwarts, Oliver Wood and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) were official friends —something Dorian took full credit of and something no one in the school had foreseen, except for her friends and the Gryffindor Quidditch Team (why was their Captain, Oliver obsessive Wood, postponing practices all of a sudden?)—. Not long after she tried to end their tutoring sessions, Oliver asked her if she minded to spend some time with him outside of their “study dates”. 

Since then, she and Oliver could be seeing together round Hogwarts. Sometimes (Y/N)’s friends joining them because of the boy invitating the Quartet, or rest of it at least, to Hogsmeade, making up silly excuses to leave them alone or telling Oliver all the embarrassing things (Y/N)’d succeeded to do, most of them narrated by Dorian, —how could he know so many stupid stories when he joined the group not that long ago?—, who loved laughing at the angry faces she did until her elbow hit his ribs. 

While (Y/N)’s feelings kept growing without restraint, Oliver’s were blooming slowly, at first unnoticed, but strong. His heart jumping whenever he saw her smiling, or talking about a subject she was passionate about. His body going still momentarily if she was too close to him, showing him how to cut ingredients, or the order they went in, or how to move his hands to perform a spell correctly. 

He realised during the fifth month of the school term. It wasn’t romantic nor beautiful. It felt like taking a Bludger to the head —believe or not, he had experience with that—, you weren’t prepared for the hit and the consequences it would bring. Ruining their friendship was the last thing Oliver wanted, so he kept quiet about his discovery and acted normal, begging no one, especially not (Y/N), would notice.

Reckless, and sometimes irresponsible, they were, but not fools. So of course the experts on the matter of ‘friends being complete idiots and denying their feelings’, Dorian, Isla and Ethan knew exactly what was going on when they noticed Oliver’s change of attitude towards their Slytherin friend. How he seemed more nervous around her; the way would look for her before a Quidditch match; how he would ask easy questions about the assignments, claiming he was going to die without her help, and how he put more effort on his appearance whenever they were going to hang out. 

The three friends couldn’t believe their luck. First, (Y/N), the smartest person they knew and yet, at the same time, the most oblivious and ignorant. Then, Oliver, the boy their friend had a crush on, now seemed to reciprocate her feelings but was trying to push them aside. 

“How can someone be so daft?,” Isla whispered to the boys beside her while watching (Y/N) and Oliver leave Zonko’s and starting to walk slowly towards the Three Broomsticks, “you know, we could make them smell Amortentia and admit their feelings once and for all.”

“You are actually onto something there, Islandic,” Dorian said, beginning to follow the pair in front of them. The Gryffindor snickered after Isla hit him on the head because of the recent nickname he’d given her. 

“Oh no, we’re not doing that,” they heard Ethan from behind them. 

“Why not?”

“Why not?,” Ethan repeated before letting out a scoff, ”because you two are going to make me brew the potion and I’m not brewing Amortentia.” Isla and Dorian gazed at each other, trying to conceal their smiles, knowing their other friend was right. 

They’d started to follow (Y/N) and Oliver in silence when Dorian talked again.

“Why don’t you want to brew Amortentia?” The noise of the village almost drowning the suspicious tone in his voice. “Are you trying to evade something, maybe?”

“Shut up,” he responded, tightening the dark blue coat closer to his body, and unknowingly giving Dorian the answer he hoped for, “and come on, don’t just stand there. We’re going to lose them.”

Their continuing attempts were a failure, nothing they did made the Slytherin or the Gryffindor confess. Fortunately, these thoughts were starting to appear more frequently in the latest’s mind. 

|||

It was the first Saturday after the Easter Holidays and the whole school, including the professors, was waiting impatiently for the last Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor for the Inter-House Quidditch Cup. 

With Slytherin leading the championship with more than two hundred points, Oliver’s team needed a massive win if they wanted to get their hands on the Cup.

(Y/N) made her way up to the stands alongside her friends, all of them hoping for Gryffindor to win the match. Even as a Slytherin, she wished for him, and the whole team of course, to crush her House’s Quidditch Team. Marcus Flint was everything but kind and a fair player, his tactics consisted purely of hurting his rivals, not caring about the damage the injuries could cost. (Y/N)’d have supported her own House if they weren’t cheating bastards. 

A few of the students looked at her weirdly before starting to whisper when she sat down on her seat beside Dorian, who went full on Gryffindor pride. Yes, she was wearing a green blouse —she should have accepted Dorian’s offer on using one of his red t-shirts—, but that didn’t mean anything. She was on the Gryffindor stands, so she was supporting Gryffindor, and for a good reason… 

The first ten points went to the lion’s house thanks to Angelina Johnson, but the cries of joy transformed quickly into shoutings and insults directed to the Slytherin Captain for nearly knocking her off her broom after smashing into the Chaser. Fred Weasley reacted by throwing his beater’s bat at the back of Flint’s head. 

The rest of the match followed pretty much the same way. Slytherin played using dirty tactics and attacking the Gryffindors, which resulted in them answering their violence with, well, more violence. 

“Harry spotted the Snitch,” shouted Dorian while raising his arm, pointing towards the third year boy. Before the Gryffindor Seeker could grab the shiny, golden ball, Malfoy grabbed the end of his broom and pulled it back.

“Not the fucking Firebolt, you twat,” (Y/N) thought of hearing her best friend Isla, seating on her right side, said. Everyone started screeching insults at the Slytherin Seeker, even (Y/N) and some of the professors. 

Finally, after more penalties, Harry Potter caught the Snitch, handing his House the Quidditch Cup. 

Students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff roared in excitement, quickly leaving the stands and flooding the Pitch, running to congratulate the winning team. 

Three of the four members of the Multicolour Quartet stayed a few feet away from the crowd, Dorian celebrating in the middle with Oliver, who was carrying the Cup, on his shoulders. Isla grabbed her arm and carried her to where the Gryffindor Captain was, a memory of Dorian doing the same thing a year ago entered her mind. 

Looking up at Oliver, (Y/N) noticed his rosy cheeks and some drops of sweat forming on his forehead, but his brown eyes and smile were what captivated her the most, his enthusiasm turning contagious. 

“Congratulations, I guess,” the girl said, a serious expression on her face while rolling her eyes exaggeratedly to show him she was teasing. (Y/N) extended her arm, still acting, but was taken by surprise when Oliver grabbed it and pulled her towards him, engulfing each other in a hug. She giggled near his ear and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

The Gryffindor glanced down at her, bodies still close to each other, neither of them wanting to let go, eyes thrilled because of his team’s victory and something more she couldn’t figure out. Slowly, his face approached her’s, staring back to the other’s eyes, asking themselves internally if this was the moment. 

“Fuck it,” Oliver mumbled before closing the distance between them and planting a chaste kiss on her mouth. 

They stood motionless for a couple of seconds, arms still wrapped around each other and the whole school watching them silently, waiting for her reaction. From the corner of her eye, she saw Fred Weasley giving his twin, George, some sickles, a grim look on his face for losing what she assumed was a bet on them.

(Y/N)’s attention went back to the boy in front of her, one with a desperate expression. Standing on her toes, she pulled her hands away from Oliver’s torso, directing one towards the back of his neck and the other to his cheek, caressing the skin tenderly. She smiled, unable to stop another giggle, and pressed their lips together for the second time, hoping it wouldn’t be the last one. 

The crowd around the pair roared again, making them laugh between the kiss, lips separating and then reuniting. Her heart almost jumping out of her chest from how fast it was beating, her necessity to breath becoming more prominent with each second her mouth was against he’s. Ignoring it, (Y/N) continued on kissing Oliver, whose hands were now on either side of her head, trying to bring her impossibly closer. Biting her bottom lip, his tongue rushing through her mouth. The hand on his neck pressuring now with more force, bringing him down so her feet could touch the ground.

A hand on each of Oliver’s shoulders forced them apart. 

“Okay, I’m really happy you two finally stopped the painful yearning for each other, but this is my best friend you’re snogging, Oliver, so try to do that privately,” a voice that could only belong to Dorian came from behind the Gryffindor boy. 

(Y/N) crossed her arms, one of them pressing into Oliver’s side, and looked at her friend before speaking.

“Are you going to tell…”

“Yeah, I am,” he interrupted her mid sentence, “I bloody told you so.”

TAGLIST: @peeves-a-legend​ @weasleybees​ @acontinuationofstuff​ @parkeroffline​ @lilac-wrists​

If you want me to add you to the taglist, ask me! And if you asked but you’re not here, please remind me!

[tuancore]

Purple Hearts || { Part 3 } :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader.

Genre- Angst | Non-Idol AU , Disorder AU.

Summary- I'll continue to love you for as long as I'm breathing, but I won't let my love come in between your happiness.

*GIF not mine, credits to the owner*

"I thought you were going to stay at BamBam's place toni—", Your words were cut as Yugyeom grabbed your arms harshly making you yelp in pain. "You're hurting me Yugyeom!", You informed still struggling to remove his hand but all he did was give you a stern look.

"Hurt? You say hurt huh?", He chuckled sarcastically before yanking your arms from his grasp, "Do you even know what you fucking got yourself into?".

"Yugyeom!", You yelled at his language.

"No Noona, not today!" He shouted back with those fierce eyes which you have seen only once or twice in your lifetime, "You..." He pointed his fingers at you as he spoke "You are the one who is responsible for everything!".

"I don't know what you're saying", You muttered softly turning around avoiding eye contact. "You don't know? You don't know?! Woah! Such a great actress aren't you?".

You exactly knew what he was referring to but you didn't want him to rub salt on your wounds gulping a tight knot in your throat, you said, "Yugyeom not now".

"Not now, then when? You never fucking told hyung that you liked him! You never told him that you have loved him every single moment of your life since you came to know the meaning of love!....." He added roughly, "But I never interfered I thought— actually all of us thought that you will confess to him yourself! But look at what you did....you gave his hand to Somi?".

"I didn't do anything... Jinyoung loves Somi, not me" You informed still your back facing him. "Yeah you are correct... because you didn't do anything for yourself....for your love....for your heart .....but you did for Jinyoung hyung!".

"I didn't do anything for anyone! He loves Somi and he's marrying her that's it!" You snapped, "Don't get me involved into this".

"Jinyoung hyung told us that it was you who helped him with Somi, he told us about all the date plans....all the outings that you planned for them..." Yugyeom blurted monotonously grabbing your arm again and forcing you to face him, "You fucking became a matchmaker!".

"Why would you do that to yourself? Why?" This time your brother's voice utterly soft, his eyes glimmering with tears, "I did it for him..." You whispered as a tear slipped down your left cheek, "I did it for Jinyoung, I did it for his happiness....".

"You shouldn't have....Why don't you ever think about yourself....... even for once? When will you understand that his happiness is not everything"

"That's where you are wrong....his happiness is everything for me, he is everything for me", You expressed with so much pain in your voice.

Yugyeom knew that you were not only hurting but were broken after what Jinyoung has done today. He shouldn't be getting angry at Jinyoung, he has absolutely no right to but he can't seem to stop thinking about your heart. He has spent all his age watching you caring for him and loving him.

"Then why are you crying ? You should be enjoying and celebrating his happiness but here you are in your room....crying your eyes out", Yugyeom whispered lightly.

"I'm— I'll be alright it's just a moment of weakness I'll overcome this, trust me", You stammered wiping your tears from the sleeves of your dress, "You should go back, you promised Bam for a sleepover remember?" You chuckled trying to ease the tension.

Yugyeom kept quiet observing your facial expressions even if you laughed and proclaimed to get better, he understood that you won't. You can never get over your broken heart, your broken soul and on top of everything you can never get over Jinyoung.

"Go or should I call BamBam to carry you?" You teased pushing him out of your door but he was in no mood for humour. No words left his mouth but he obliged to leave you to yourself for now.

"I'll be one call away", He said walking away from you.

_____________

Since that night you avoided seeing Jinyoung at all costs, you were not hating on him but you needed some time to collect yourself so that you can face him again. You drowned yourself into your job doing overtime as well. The thing that also chewed you from inside was Yugyeom's silence, he no longer got excited seeing you coming home with handful of his favourite take outs, no longer went outside for fun or drinks.

"Yugyeom!" You shouted from outside his bedroom's door when he refused to come out, "Yugyeom! Come out please! Please!".

"My stomach is full, I have no appetite for more", his monotone landed a hard slap on your face. He was purposely trying to avoid you as well it was so clear. "Yugyeom I know you're angry at me but please don't vent your anger out on food....you....you haven't eaten anything since previous night".

"Why do you care? All you care about is Jinyoung hyung then go and care for him! I don't need your consolation!" He shouted.

"Please Kyum don't do this to yourself, think about yourself", You practically begged him after all he's your little brother.

He unlocked the door standing tall in front of you, with those emotionless eyes folding his arms to his chest, "Hypocrisy! You are telling me to think about myself when you yourself doesn't think about yourself".

"That's a different topic Kyum, come one let's eat", You commanded holding his wrist dragging him downstairs to the dining table.

"Why don't you let me starve? Why are you trying to feed me when I don't want to?" He asked vehemently yanking his wrist from your grasp. "Because I'm your Noona, you're my little brother, I can't see you suffering!", You expressed boldly.

"If I'm your brother...then you're also my sister, how do you expect me to stay calm and watch you suffering alone? You think I've not noticed how much stress you're taking on yourself just to avoid hyung and his thoughts? That I've not heard you sobbing in the middle of the night? That I've not noticed how miserable you have become? You think.........it's a good and pleasing sight for me?.......It's been three weeks and all you've done is cry every single night, skip meals and overwork yourself.....you promised me that you'll get over him and this......", He circled your face in air with his index finger, " This is not called moving on....you're destroying yourself from outside as well".

"Then what do you expect me to do?" You challenged him.

"Tell him that you love him", he stated without any trace of humour, "Tell him everything about your feelings for him".

"I—I can't d—do that".

"If that so then I've absolutely no problem in informing him myself", He shrugged.

"You won't do that Yugyeom...." You pleaded, "He's getting married in two and a half months—".

"So what? His marriage or his love life is none of my concern but you are....and I can't let him love someone else while you're on the verge of dying!" He yelled in rage "And now the choice is yours either you tell him that you love him or I will......you have a week".

With those words he rushed back inside his room slamming the door shut, he got you into a dilemma if you told Jinyoung that you love him, you always have loved him and only him— he'll definitely reject you on your face and the things will get awkward between you both, even more than strangers or worse if he decides to break all strings with you.

Technically the same thing will happen even if Yugyeom were to tell Jinyoung. Holding your head in between both your hands you tried to contain yourself, by the way Yugyeom is reacting you're dead sure that he will not step back from his word.

"A week.." You sighed to yourself, "What am I supposed to do?".

My Neung Neung :

Hey why are you not answering my calls?

My Neung Neung:

Yugyeom told me that you're busy with some paperwork but I miss you.

My Neung Neung:

Please let's hangout this Sunday just you and me like old times.

My Neung Neung:

It's so boring without you T_T I'm losing my mind please lets meet up please please.

My Neung Neung:

I'll fill your inbox unless you call me or text me.

My Neung Neung:

Please! Come on girl you can't be that busy to not talk to me.

My Neung Neung:

Y/N !

Y/N !

Hellooooooo!!!!

Anyone there!!!!!

Hey my bestie!!!! Your Jinyoungie is missing you!!!!

He needs you!!!

Come on!!!

You can't avoid me like this !

I love you Y/N!

His messages brought that smile to your face which you had been missing for weeks now, he really had that impact on you. Your eyes stopped at 'Your Jinyoungie' and 'I love you', you felt your breath hitching your mind shouted that it was out of friendly love and gesture but your heart said otherwise that he really needed you and that he loves you like you love him when you knew it can't be possible.

Surely you had been successful in avoiding him for straight three weeks but he never stopped calling you atleast hundred times a day, doesn't he have Somi to look after or call her over if he wants some company, however this is the first time he has messaged you in these weeks. And seeing how much you yourself missed Jinyoung, you couldn't bring yourself to ignore him anymore, so you decided to message him back.

You :

Sorry I was really busy with my job but I'll be free after tomorrow.

Let's hangout together on Sunday.

Clicking the send, you sighed heavily wondering about what you'll do regarding Yugyeom's threat when your phone buzzed again you unlocked it hoping for Jinyoung's reply but the name on your screen got your mind spinning.

Aunt Park :

Let's meet tomorrow at my house, no excuses.

And don't worry Jinyoung won't be there.

Part 2 | Master list | Part 4

______________________________________

[sebbytrash]

Through His Eyes - Part Seventeen

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings -   Nightmares, angst, self loathing, sad stuff my guys.

A/N - I’m sorry. Trust me. 

Through His Eyes Masterlist

“No, please. No.” Bucky’s agonised moans wake you, sharply, his hands twisting in the sheets. “Not her, not her.”

“Bucky, shhh, Bucky it’s a dream.” You try to soothe him, smooth a hand across his face. He doesn’t notice, or wake, just continues to fight against some unseen force.

“I can’t.” He pleads, sweat making his hair stick to his face, dark little lines streaking across his forehead to emphasise the pain already written there. “No, no.” He repeats it, over and over, a mantra, a prayer. 

You get up on your knees to crouch over him more, use your hands to shake his shoulders a little and try to ignore the way your heart hammers against your chest, the way it’s threatening to break apart in time with the agony in his screams. “Bucky, wake up! Bucky, you’re okay, you're safe.”

His eyes open, wild and terrified, and you see him see you, see the horror claim his face and see him recoil, push himself further into the mattress to be free from your touch. You know then what his dream was, and how you’d carried it to him when he woke like an unending hell, the dream that won't end.

Your chest is hollow renewed. 

“It’s me, Bucky. You’re awake, I’m here.” You sit back on your haunches, try to give him what little space you can afford without mirroring his retreat and causing any more pain. 

He swallows visibly, closes his eyes with a clenched jaw and then, just when you are about to say something, anything, his eyes open again and lock with yours, a hurricane in those sea-laden eyes. You stare right back, cautious, regretful, because this is everything you wanted to prevent, being the very cause of his pain all over again. A cycle that can never be broken, no matter how hard you try, he tries. 

“Sorry,” he tries to say, voice hoarse from the screaming, swallows again and then clears his throat, “I’m sorry. It’s, uh, been a while since I’ve had one that bad.” You can’t help but notice that he makes no moves towards you, stays exactly where he is, now back pressed against the wall. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, even as you ache to touch him. 

“You don’t have to apologise.” You say, automatically, roll your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt not to press him and then the words pour out of you anyway, like the blood in your mouth. “It was me, right? The dream.” 

He looks away, the muscle in his jaw moving in time to his clenching and then unclenching of his teeth, the darkness of the room dragging along his jaw and high-hollowed cheekbones like he wills them into place, wills a physical barrier between you and him. You hate yourself for asking and yet, need him to answer.

“Yes. It was you.” He says it like it cost him something to do so, each word dragging in the air between you. You feel like a thief, stealing the words from him when he so clearly didn’t want to part with them. A thief further for stealing away his progress like a flesh and blood nightmare, a purgatory made personal for him, for you. 

The silence stretches between you, an open mouth that swallows up all sound and even the memory of sound, a hungry, endless pit of a mouth that swallows you whole. The seconds turn to minutes and slip, like sand, through your fingers and into that mouth until finally, you cast what should be a rope, and instead is an anchor into that mouth-pit. “Well, since I’m up, I’m gonna go get some coffee.”

You see the way his face changes when you say it, think that maybe a slap in the face would have hurt you less and force yourself to climb awkwardly out of his bed and slip out the door before you crumble into dust. He makes no sound, makes no moves to stop you, simply lets you disappear like that dust swept away by the wind.

You retreat to your room, locking the door behind you like it can keep away the thoughts or that wave of despair that's threatening to knock you off your newly found feet, Sam’s concrete already cracking under the strain. You spend hours or minutes pretending to watch TV, ignore Sam when he knocks on your door and Wanda when she texts. You make yourself food and then find yourself staring at the smudges on the wall whilst it goes cold on the table in front of you. The dread in your stomach claws it's way up your throat and threatens to choke you.

You think about that edge you and Bucky had danced along for so long, that leap into the fall you'd taken and those few sweet moments in between where nothing really held its weight to drag you down, soft smiles and smiling, salt water eyes. Well, gravity has its claws in you now, again, you think, and the impact of that fall is fast approaching. 

You know it's him before he knocks, the butterflies that dance along your skin and tumble in your gut whenever he’s near give you more warning than his hesitant knocks, the sounds themselves a sad little song that plucks at the strings of your heart. He waits for you to open the door, which says more about where his head is at than he probably realises, you think, a soft smile that doesn't crinkle his eyes in that way you like is offered, and shared. 

"Hi." You say, and step back to let him in, doing your best to smother those frantic wings.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He rushes out, and you can tell it surprises even him, "I was just caught off guard. And the bruises…"

He trails off and you realise then what he means, your bruises from the sparring with Steve had triggered his nightmares and the suddenness of it makes sense. It changes nothing, but at least it makes sense. 

"You know I'm going to get hurt sometimes, right? What we do here, there's no avoiding it." You begin, not really knowing how to end but knowing that you should.

"I know." His eyes flash, lightning strikes against the turbulent sea, "I just… I didn't know how much it would hurt to see you like that." 

A confession, a secret, meant to be a balm but instead feels like the flames. He'll never be free of the Soldier, you think, not while you walk around like a living hallucination of a past he never deserved. 

"I think…," You start, feel your tongue fat and uncooperative in your mouth, "We need a little space." The air in your lungs already feels like lead, like the concrete that held up your legs is now filling your lungs and chest, drowning you in your own progress.

He says nothing for entirely too long and yet, long enough for you to be grateful for a few more seconds before the collision. "Space."

"I think it's best, don't you?" 

"I can give you space, if it's what you need." He says it like maybe you are the one who needs it.

"Bucky, we can't keep doing this, it's not good for either of us." You say, every bit of emotion clawing its way up your throat, some of it desperate to take back the words. You can feel the shape of each letter scrape against your tongue. "It’s ruining you.”

“It’s not. It’s not.” He says, quieter on the repeat like it’s for himself and not you, his jaw clenches so hard you fear he will snap the tendons. “I love you.”

That’s it, that’s what does it. Breaks you down into all those tiny pieces you used to be, those ones you’ve spent minutes and hours painstakingly stitching and taping back together. You feel the words hollow out space in your chest, replacing the now useless heart that’s beat it’s last beat. The last of your arguments die with it. 

“That’s not what this is, Bucky. It’s a crutch, a coping mechanism. A way to ease all that fucking guilt we carry.” Even to your own ears, you sound void of emotion, the last bit of it carved out by the knowledge of what you had done to him. Guilt howling down the corridors of your heart. “It’s not real.” 

“Don’t say that, of course it’s real.” He breaks the invisible barrier around you and takes your hand, presses your fingertips to his chest, “Can’t you feel it?”. 

He looks at you with such hope that you are almost unmade, the full weight of it hangs off your bones and tries to strip you of that steely nerve but you fight for it, know that this is what he needs if he’s to heal. Go to war with yourself for him. Anything for him.

“I feel a lot of things, Bucky. I feel raw. I feel tired, tired of the guilt, of the fear every time I close my eyes I’ll dream of you, or that I won’t.” The last part sneaks out, betraying more than you want and he latches on to it. “I don’t…”

“Are you afraid you don't love me? Or are you afraid you do?” He asks mildly, like how you might ask about the weather. Or probably, more accurately, like he knows the answer and is just leading you down a path where the answer waits for you to want it.

You shake your head, not in answer but in anger, the kind of uncontrollable rage that comes with defeat. Of words poking at a wound you were denying the existence of. “Stop. Just stop.” Your voice breaks half way, a shout turned cry. A beg for mercy.

“What are you so afraid of?” His voice breaks too, a slow sort of break like the last ebb of his strength, the last air bubble before the silence. It cleaves you in two.

“You!” You shout, pieces of you slipping through your fingertips, not realising what your words would sound like to him. It’s not how you mean it anymore, but he doesn’t know that, takes it on face value alone and you can pinpoint the exact moment you break his ever fragile heart, because you break your own with it. Always with those matching scars and matching pain.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, drift your fingertips across his jaw and let yourself have just one more moment of touching him, “I didn’t....” He closes his eyes, closes himself off, you think, and your fingers smear against the wetness on his face. You turn from him then and head for the door, feeling every single second of the battle and war that raged for him and rages still. 

The sound of the door closing quietly behind you somehow seems worse than if it had slammed, a mirror to the way you had quietly broken the man behind it and even quieter, broken yourself. 

You take a step, and then another, and then more and more until you are out the building and gulping down the fresh air to try calm the beating of your unsteady heart. You fight the urge to go back and undo it all, to somehow scoop up all the words and pieces of you and stuff them back in place but your feet carry you automatically. Somehow, you're not sure how long later but long enough that the sky has changed color, you find yourself at a door, knocking a little too hard and too long until he answers.

“Mallow, what are you doing here?” Clint asks, taking quick stock of your current state and pulling you in for a hug before you can answer.

“I just needed to be away.” You say, and hug him tighter, “Is this okay?”

“Of course it is, come in, Laura’s making cocoa,” he ushers you in, still tucked under his arm, “and you look like you could use some.”

[tealquacks]

The Flowers of Tenebrae

for the first day @lunoctweek , also posted on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720592

Enjoy!

They stopped the train to let the civilians out at Tenebrae. It was the best decision they could make, Noctis ordering the conductor to stop while Luna went through the train, healing whomever she could. And she promised each and every one of them that they would be safe in Tenebrae. They looked at her with big, hopeful eyes, and Luna felt grateful to be alive in that moment. Tenebrae would keep them safe. 

When the train stopped, Tenebrae burned.

Ash fell like snow from the darkened sky, smoke billowing in thick clouds. Luna could almost see the fire burning, nestled in the heart of the castle she once called home. The civilians rushed off the train in a confused hoard, a few of them bumping into her. She didn’t move. She could hear their panicked whispers, children crying, and her home burned.

Luna closed her eyes and tried to imagine the place she’d grown up loving, the place she’d met Noct at, but no matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes and prayed to gods who didn’t seem to listen, she still smelt the smoke. It burned her lungs. Just like drowning. For a moment, her mind took her back to the shrine to Leviathan, a wall of water slamming into her as the world around her crumbled like a pastry, not being able to breathe, lungs burning.

Her legs had carried her across the bridge from the train station. Mud squelched under her shoes as she walked, the feathery petals of Sylleblossoms leaving dew drops on her pants. People walked around in an almost casual way, as if her home wasn’t burning, as if she hadn’t lied to all these people, told them they’d be safe and protected. If fate was written by the gods, she’d have to have a word with them. Curing the scourge was one thing, but endangering the lives of all these innocents…

“Luna?” Noct asked quietly. Luna flinched as he set his hand on her shoulder, then sighed. She took his hand.

“I’m okay, love, just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Blasphemous things,” she said solemnly. Noctis laughed awkwardly, as if she was joking. Maybe he was just trying to lighten the mood.

He squeezed her hand in his.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I… I’ve lost my home, too, and it hurts so much. And well, uh, I didn’t move on? But I tried to ignore it, since I had to. It sucks.”

Luna couldn’t help but give an amused chuckle, gently squeezing Noct’s hand back. Noct never was good with words, awkward at the best of times, but he was always sincere. 

“I don’t know what upsets me more,” Luna mumbled, “seeing my home burn, or knowing that these people have to travel even more just to be safe.”

Noct let go of her hand, instead setting both of his hands on her shoulders. They felt warm, even through the fabric of the black jacket she wore. He looked at her with a soft expression— thats all she could think of it as. Not pitying, or sad, just soft. 

“Luna, I am so, so sorry. If it makes you feel any better, though, Aranea is going to get these people out of here. She has a drop ship, and can get them somewhere safe. After that, we can start making our way to Graela, the Crystal—“

“—and I can give the Draconian a piece of my mind,” Luna interrupted. Noct made a face.

“Huh?”

She looked at Noct. Noct stepped forward, one of his hands setting itself at the small of her back. She stepped forward, letting Noct envelop her in a warm, familiar hug, the smell of the outdoors plastered to his pale skin. She buried her face in his shoulder, trying to get the smoke out of her nose. Noct gently pet her hair, occasionally tangling his fingers in the silky strands.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” he mumbled. Luna couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe I am a good influence on you,” Luna said. Noct huffed.

“I’m serious, dear… why the Draconian, though?”

Luna breathed out against Noct’s shoulder. 

“Bahamut is the one who wove this fate of ours, the one who planned all. I was meant to die while making the covenant with Leviathan, and yet, I survived. I’m afraid that the lives of these people are at risk because I avoided fate. When I confront the Draconian, I will tell him to leave the people alone.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Luna,” Noctis whispered. She felt his breath against her ear.

“I am the people’s Oracle. A healer. It is my duty to protect the innocent, no matter what the cost is. If it is my own life, then so be it.”

Noct squeezed her even tighter, and she could feel him tremble ever so slightly.

“Yes, you’re their Oracle, but you’re my Luna,” he said hoarsely, “the Luna who told me all I know about gods and stars and all that. The Luna that showed me all the secret places in Tenebrae, the Luna who sent me messages and pressed sylleblossoms in a book, the Luna who can talk to gods without flinching,” Noct’s voice wavered as he sniffled against her, “my best friend, the love of my life. My Luna. I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself.”

“Me neither,” Luna said, voice thick with tears.

“If Bahamut is going to hurt people just because we don’t do what he says,” Noct whispered intensely, “then let’s kill him.”

Luna pulled away from his arms, blinking up at him in shock. He had that determined look on his face, the one he got while fighting Leviathan, or when they were playing Kings Knight on the train. Any question of his sincerity died on her lips. When Noct got that look, he would do whatever he could to reach his goal.

“Noct—“

“—We can commune with the other gods. Tell them that we don’t want to follow Bahamut’s fate. Convince them to join us, fight with us—“

“Noct.”

“I’m being serious, Luna, I mean, Gladio, Prompto, Iggy, you and I could certainly fuck up a god—“

“Adagium could help us.”

Noct stared at her in a way that made her wonder if there was anything behind those eyes of his. 

“Who?”

Luna sighed. 

“Adagium. The carrier of the scourge, the accursed one. Ardyn Izunia.”

Noct froze.

“No way.”

“Yes, way,” Luna replied.

“And here I thought he was a creepy old guy!” Noctis exclaimed. Luna smiled, tilting her head a little bit.

“Well, you got that part right. He’s an immortal creepy old guy. So the next time we meet him, we must make it known we’re keen on killing the Draconian.”

“And what do we do until then?”

Luna sighed. She looked at the burning ruins of her home, then down to her feet. Even amongst the ruin, Sylleblossoms grew from the wet earth, as bright and persistent as ever. Just like they did when they were children, and somehow Luna knew that they always would be there. Even if it wasn’t quite the same, the flowers would dot the land of Tenebrae. 

She crouched down, and gently plucked a sylleblossom from the earth.

“We stand by one another, my love.” 

Noct gently took the flower from her hand, a small smile gracing his face. He leaned in, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“We will, we’ll be together. No matter what.”

He said it like a promise. Luna looked over at the burning castle of Tenebrae, then back at Noct. 

She kissed him as softly as she could, their lips hardly ghosting together, and thought of a perfect world where every promise would be kept, and every flower would bloom forever.

[twelve-twelve-eleven]

I’ve Had Enough - Rafe Cameron

caution: rafe x reader, drug addiction, swearing, children, teen pregnancy, yelling, flashbacks on “doing it” with rafe and the aftermath, vomit, kinda toxic relationship??

a/n: OKAY WAIT HIII. This is my first ever writing piece and i literally thought about this idea while i was falling asleep. it will probably be absolute SHAT, so don’t be surpirsed if it is. plus, my spelling and grammar is doo doo.  i dont know that much about cocaine addiction, im trying my best jsyk! lets pretend that rafe isn’t a murderer, and that rafe and you are +18.

Part 2  Part 3

words: 1.1k

outline: rafe and you moved in together after your second child was born. but of course, rafe’s addiction didn’t ease up. in fact, it go worse. you finally broke out after having to deal with it for more than 2 years.

“baby!” you yelled out from you and rafe’s bedroom, holding your head in your hands to try and focus on the schoolwork on your desk. no response came back as marie, your 1 year old daughter, kept on crying. you scoffed and pushed yourself up, walking into the living room where you last saw rafe. as you went through the bedroom door frame, you saw rafe bent down above the coffee table, a snorting sound coming from him. anger filled your body. 

“rafe!” you yelled out, louder to get his attention. he whipped his head up, white powder littering under his nostrils. you stormed up to him as he looked around, getting familiar again with his surroundings. you leaned in and looked into his eyes, recognizing the symptoms. you shook your head and sat up as rafe finally looked at you. you stormed into the crying baby’s room, looking at your 4 year old son, spencer trying to shush her. you leaned over the crib rail and took her into your arms, bobbing her up and down.

rafe was a hook up that you didn’t know would turn into a future relationship because of a child. rafe saw you at the boneyard and immediately took a liking to you. he wanted to get into your pants, see how you moaned and how you screamed his name, he wanted to know every single curve of your body like the back of his hand. what was surprising was that you were a pogue, and he was a kook. to be honest, you were kinda tipsy, so things weren’t registering right. all you remember was a heated make out session behind a tree, then you woke up naked in rafe’s bedroom. rafe didn’t spread about what he did to you, which was new of him. he felt something different about you. he wanted to make a relationship with you, he wanted to know other than how you were in bed.but he never told anyone about it, even you. y’all went on hooking up here and then, from time to time. 

until, you started feeling sick when you went on the HMS Pogue. you didn’t get motion sickness at all, so you just thought that the food that you ate was bad. but then, it started to happen everyday. you running to the bathroom every morning you woke up to spill your guts. you started to get scared, and avoided rafe at all costs. you still hung out with the pogues, but had to sneak away to the bathroom every time you felt it coming. you felt the need to take a test, and so you did. surprise, surprise, it came out positive. you panicked and didn’t tell anyone, still not having any contact with rafe. the first people to find out were the pogues, kiara noticing your baby bump. telling them who the baby daddy was was hard, since y’all didn’t like the kooks at all. they were very disappointed, but said they would support you all the way through.

“calm down baby, you’re okay.” you shushed marie tenderly and walked out her room. rafe now had his arms spread across the back of the couch, slouching in his seat. “you still have kids, rafe.” you said. he grumbled and threw his hand up, bending it. as you went into the kitchen to get formula, you heard a sound come from the living room. you turned around and saw rafe leaning up against the bar, separating the living room from the kitchen and dining room. you huffed and walked over to rafe, helping him to the couch once again. “you need to stop, this is getting out of hand.” you lightly put him down back where he was. “don’t tell me what to do.” he mumbled back. you pulled back, pulling marie close. “what did you say?” your eyes narrowed at rafe. “don’t tell me what to fucking do!” he yelled out, his face turning red.

“i take care of this fucking family while you go to barry’s with our rent money to get more drugs!” you yelled, not holding yourself back. all the anger you built up after multiple times seeing rafe like this finally showed. the continuous screams from both of y’all were drowning out the scared cries of your children. tears were streaming down your face, but you stood still, holding marie closer. as rafe was screaming at you, you felt a grip on your leg. you quickly looked down, a tear dropping onto the carpet. there you found spencer hugging your leg as tight as a 4 year old could. seeing him like that, screaming and crying, tore up a piece of your heart. you knew they shouldn’t have heard this, seen it or be anywhere need it. so, you didn’t let rafe finish what he was talking about. you went into you and rafe’s room and grabbed your phone and your car keys. he stepped into the door way, still expressing his thoughts loudly. your vision was blurry from your tears, but you quickly wiped your eyes with your extremely shaky hands to see what you were doing on your phone. 

“what are you doing?” he asked, cutting off what he was last talking about. “hey baby? whats up?” the female voice said. “who is that?” rafe said, stepping closer to you. “get back, rafe!” you exclaimed out. “y/n, what is happening?” her tone became concerned and worried. “mom, i can’t anymore.” you replied, your voice cracking. “y/n, talk to me!” yelled out rafe. you sniffled, and tried your best to go around rafe’s size. spencer’s hand was in yours, holding onto your finger. “baby, please!” he begged as you slipped past him. “can you please meet me at ihop?” you asked, walking toward the door. “y/n, please don’t do this! we can talk it out, just please!” rafe grabbed your waist, turning you toward him. “don’t touch me!” you cried out, jiggling the front door handle. the expression on his face showed the guilt he had just put on himself by how he acted. “yes, yes i’m on my way right now.” she said before ending the call. you finally got the door to open, and you quickly slipped through. you put the phone in your back pocket, ignoring rafe’s begs. “w-where are we going, mommy?” spencer asked quietly, still crying. “don’t worry about it, baby.” you said, your lip quivering. you pulled him up into your arms, and his tiny head turned around. 

“what about daddy?” he said. “he’ll be fine, but we’re going to see gigi, okay?” you said, looking at him. he looked at you and nodded his head slowly, tear streaks going down his cheeks. a sob left your lips, seeing your child that scared and hurt. he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine.

OMG WAIT IM SCARED. PART 2??? I HOPE THIS IS GOOD IM SORRY IF ITS CRAP <3333

[ofwizardsandmen]

Foreign territory

Pasión de Gavilanes AU

Characters: Tara (OC), Mark Lee, Sungjae Lee, M, Emily

Word count: 2,6k

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

(Part of a larger story and multiple AUs, but can be read on its own)

“Our favorite girl is here!” An excited voice exclaimed causing Tara to spin around scandalized, her abundant jet black hair whipping about her head and eventually falling down her shoulders in a nearly cinematographic way.

Across the room, the owner of the voice—a tall, long-necked man of pretty dimples,—stood by a massive wooden staircase, keeping an educated distance and looking puzzled. Considering that his last encounter with Tara Lee had been anything but peaceful—the night ended up in chaos, with her cousins storming out of their own party,—he wasn’t expecting to find her pacing up and down the foyer of his house with a toddler in arms.

“I- I meant Astrid, of course,” The man, M —as his closest friends and family called him— added, nervously looking away from Tara’s judging glances. For someone who barely knew Tara and whose only “interactions” with her had consisted in cold remarks and snarky comments —from her part—the man still took offense in the way her expression contorted into something mildly similar to disgust. “Anyway… Thanks for coming”

Tara who couldn’t quite believe she’d dared to set foot in that house—if her mother or any of her aunts found out she was there, she’d be kicked out of the Delacroix State in a heartbeat,—and was still surprised by how majestic and prosperous everything seemed, only responded with a single acknowledging nod of the head.

“Wow Astrid, you’re growing so fast” M chose to ignore the fact Tara was looking around the house, seemingly unimpressed and held out both arms calling his niece’s name. In an effort to cut the distance between them, he also gave two short, cautious steps forward. “It was about time you were allowed to visit your dad and uncles,” he said, his voice changing drastically to what was supposed to be a child-friendly tone that, Tara thought to herself, was hard to emulate with his deep voice.

However, Astrid, the one-year-old toddler—daughter of Minah and Sungjae—was easy to impress. She cooed cutely waving her tiny hands around in the air as if trying to reach for the crystal lamp—or probably just her tall uncle.

The scene was sweet enough for Tara to relax and let out a soft chuckle as she made the mental note to tell her cousins about this later. There was no doubt Jane and Minah would go in a long rant about how Astrid was turning into a little traitor. They would probably have two different people to blame, but it would obviously involve the Lee brothers.

According to Tara’s cousins, M and his brothers, Sungjae and Mark, were the root of all evil, the equivalent to Satan on Earth and the reason Delacroix Group was bordering bankruptcy. And truth to be told, once upon a time, Tara herself was convinced of it and she had even go as far as campaigning against the three brothers. Tara hated each of them: Sungjae and whatever it was that had Minah acting like some hormonal teenager, M and those dimples that seemed to erase all traces of judgment from Jane's brain and above it all, Mark Lee and that stupid smile of his.

But lately, things didn’t seem so black and white anymore. Tara had promised Mark—the same Mark Lee she hated to the bone once upon a time— not to jump to conclusions when it came to their intentions anymore. And at least for now, she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

For now, Tara had even offered to take Astrid to visit her dad and willingly drove 10 miles to the brothers' ranch. That was a weekly task Jane had taken upon herself, but that she refused to carry out after the fiasco at the Delacroix fashion show.

Tara didn’t blame her.

After all, the image of Astrid’s little arms moving up and down, desperately trying to reach for her uncle would have probably caused her cousin an aneurism.

Tara, on the other hand, was much more collected, wise, and less visceral. She was also the only person in Delacroix Manor willing to see the Lees. And anyhow, Tara wasn’t pleased with the prospect of spending another afternoon with her cousins if that meant having to act sympathetic when Jane complained about how that “deceptively handsome devil”—M, her husband— showed up unannounced to their collection’s launch party and “ruined” her date with Jaehyun Jung, a textile industrial she had been frequenting. Tara wasn't sure if Jane’s complained because—she claimed—M was the last person on Earth she wanted to see or because he looked so devastatingly hot that day, dressed in a classic Ralph Lauren suit that was a striking contrast with the clothes he usually wore, or because up until that day Jaehyun had no idea Jane was—technically—married.

Then there was Minah, who despite being less vocal on her complaints, lately looked so lifeless that her mere presence seemed to drain all the energy out of the room. Tara had vainly tried to play the role of supportive cousin who offered words of consolation and encouragement, but Minah always brushed her off. Unlike Jane, Minah avoided mentioning the Lee brothers at all costs. The last time Tara asked about Sungjae, Minah got angry and claimed to be absolutely unaffected by his new romantic relationship with Ashleigh Hastings. Of course, watching her drown herself in work and rosé suggested otherwise, but Tara didn’t dare to point out the flaws in her argument. Tara was also unwilling to spend another afternoon pretending not to notice Minah’s eyes filling out with tears every now and then.

“So, Jane won’t come anymore?” M asked, clearing his throat casually as if to get Tara’s attention. It worked because Tara snapped from her thoughts and looked back at him.

“What do you think?” She replied sarcastically. M opened his mouth to say something, but Tara signaled him to hold Astrid before the hyperactive toddler decided to jump off her arms. Once M was jiggling Astrid up and down and her laugh echoed down the hallway, Tara went on as if nothing had interrupted them “If you don’t want me to come here, next time-“

“For god’s sake, Tara, don’t be ridiculous” Another familiar voice spoke from behind her. Tara was quick to notice two things. The first one was that the man’s voice dripped exasperation, the second that her heart did a wild flip when he pronounced her name. “Of course we want you to come, especially if you’re bringing our niece to visit.”

Tara gulped quietly and slowly turned around.

She was greeted by a close-up of Mark, M’s younger brother and the owner of the vast lands adjacent to Delacroix State—where Tara and her extended family lived. There, smiling that exasperating smile—confident, but warmth-inducing and absolutely gorgeous—Tara had hated for months—years, probably—, Mark Lee stood blocking the sun rays filtering through the windows. The light gave him an angelic aura. It didn’t help he was suited in a beige suit that made his back look broader than Tara could remember.

“Hi Tara, nice to see you,” Mark said simply, a full smile still present in his face.

“Hey, how are you?” Tara mentally kicked herself thinking of how awkward and unnatural she sounded, how his simple words had her feeling all sorts of nervous.

Thankfully there was no time for further regret because Mark’s older brother, Sungjae, materialized at the top of the staircase and practically flew down the stairs, pulled his daughter from his brother’s arms and smothered her with kisses.

Astrid cried solid ten seconds but then burst out with loud contagious giggles.

Watching the Astrid & Sungjae show was oddly endearing, but somehow felt like an invasion of privacy. For a second or two Tara looked around trying to find a place to sneak to while Sungjae caught up on the missing time with his daughter. But when she started to move, Sungjae’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Ummm, so Minah is not coming?” He asked as Astrid played with a strand of his hair “She’s never talking to me again or what?” Sungjae’s eyes bored into Tara’s as if trying to get an honest answer from her.

“I did everything possible to bring Astrid” Tara replied with a frown, she hesitated before adding “I really don’t think I can convince Minah to come”

It resulted impossible to ignore the shadows immediately invading Sungjae’s eyes. Tara wondered if talking about her cousin had put them there or if there was something else worrying him. The man already looked a bit haggard when Tara first saw him, but upon further inspection, she realized he looked particularly hollow-cheeked and pale “It’s fine, I’m still thankful you brought my daughter, Tara” There was a pause where Sungjae looked at Astrid with a faint smile “I really mean it. Thank you”

“Well, don’t thank me…” With a slight tinge of guilt, Tara added “We really can’t stay long. I promised to take Astrid back before our aunts notice we’re gone. You know what they think of…” she trailed off, realizing how inappropriate it was to complete that sentence. Telling the Lee brothers how much her aunts despised them seemed unnecessary and somewhat repetitive considering those four women were not exactly subtle and never missed the chance to let M, Sungjae and Mark know they were as welcome in the region as a plague was in their fields.

Sungjae’s expression dropped considerably.

“Tara, you just got here” M protested, though he kept his kind smile plastered on the face “Sungjae hasn’t seen Astrid in weeks, he won’t admit it, but he was going insane”

Mark chuckled at his brother's comment, knowing Sungjae wouldn’t appreciate being exposed like that, but looking away when Sungjae frowned at him.

“No, I am serious, guys” Tara said apologetically “We have to go soon”

“Tara, don’t be so impatient” it was almost ironic that Mark let out an impatient sigh just after calling her that. Tara looked away to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips

“Yes, Sungjae deserves some time with Astrid” A female voice coincided, taking Tara by surprise. When she looked up to the second floor, she found a beautiful young woman—Emily Choi—smiling down at them and leaning against the banister. Emily was the only daughter of Madame Elsie Choi, a wealthy and old land-owner who was too close of a friend of Tara’s aunts for her liking. However, as of recently, Emily had officially moved into the Lee residence, God knows why. Rumors said Emily was actually related by blood to the Lee brothers, but Tara was not one to listen to gossip or care about other people’s affairs.

And yet, she still supposed the change of air had been beneficial to Emily because the girl looked happier than Tara remembered her to be when she was still living with her old mom and those two annoying cousins of her. Emily smiled at her and waved a hand cordially.

“I was just dropping by to say the staff prepared a little tea party at the terrace, if you want to join me and Lucas,” she announced happily.

“Oi, he’s coming today? Again?” Mark questioned, eyes narrowing a bit comically.

“He was here yesterday and the day before. At this rate I think it’ll be better to have him moving here” M said with an eye roll

“I was just being nice” Emily scoffed, but her smile did not vanish from her lips “You’re welcome to join, but if you don’t want to, then” she shrugged casually. “I’ll be at the terrace if you need me” She made a fake reverence and before disappearing, she briefly added a “nice to see you, Tara.”

“And that’s our cue to leave” Tara attempted to move forward to retrieve Astrid from her father’s arms when a hand wrapped around her wrist, keeping her in place. The woman didn’t need to turn around to know it was Mark who was holding her back, partly because M would’ve never dared to touch her and partly because her pulse accelerated inexplicably.

“I-“ Mark looked at his hand, as if startled by his own actions “I would like to talk to you before you go, Tara” he let go of her wrist and gave her a quick apologetic curtsy that caused his brothers to raise brows and share incredulous looks. “If you follow me-”

Mark led Tara through the stables and horse training facilities of his ranch. “El Dorado” was undoubtedly the greatest horse farm in the region, sprawled for miles and neighboring the Delacroix Ranch. Mark—and by default his brothers—had become the owner of this billionaire property through what people considered to be a questionable marriage that didn’t even hit the 24-hour mark. Tara had recently found out that the story was not as simplistic and accepting that the Mark she claimed to hate for years was not a gold-digging bastard had been quite of a ride. It started with him showing up at some of the most exclusive events in the region, avid of revenge and acting like he was beyond the rest of land owners. Then Tara nearly killed him, knocking him off his horse. And ended up with Tara saving his life from some lowlifes who attempted to kill him. All in the span of a month. Now, Tara followed him God knows where and for some reason she couldn’t completely grasp she didn't even protest.

“The Ranch is spectacular, you really manage it properly” Tara commented, mostly because the silence was starting to stretch for too long.

“Well, it still has nothing on yours” The man gave her a lopsided smile. It was not a secret that Tara was—or at least used to be until very recently—the real mastermind behind the Delacroix Ranch's prosperity.

“Well, lately we’ve had-“ Tara paused “a few setbacks, as you probably noted”

“It’s Julien’s fault, no?” Mark wasn't subtle, but it was an open secret that Julien Toubeau—Minah’s ex-husband and one of the most despicable humans on Earth—had recently been appointed Deputy Finance Manager of the Delacroix Group and things had gone downhill since.

Tara didn’t deny it “Mostly” she nodded “but the girls —she said referring to her cousins Jane and Minah— and I have a backup plan to save the ranch” Tara explained.

“And I’m sure you’ll do great” Mark reached to pat Tara’s shoulder, causing her to stop walking and freeze on the spot. “Especially you, Tara” he said, moving so they were facing each other “Everybody knows you’re brilliant and hardworking”

Tara looked down, afraid that if she allowed Mark to look into her eyes, he’d noticed the effect his words had on her.

“And I was furious when Julien tried to take your position from the board of governors, you know?” Mark also looked down in an attempt to find whatever it was that Tara found so interesting on the ground.

“Thanks, that means-“ she took a deep breath and raised her head “a lot to me, Mark”

“You have nothing to thank me. In fact, I should be thanking you for bringing Astrid to visit.”

“Honestly, I’m not doing it to ingratiate myself with you or your brothers, Mark” Tara suddenly turned serious “I did it because I knew Sungjae would do anything to see her and I didn’t want more problems. Things are-“ she hesitated “very complicated right now and I don’t want our families to start fighting again and-” Tara trailed off when she noticed Mark slipping a hand into hers. “And it’s not right for you to hold my hand” she added, without concealing a giddy smile making its way to her lips “The workers can see us and God knows what they’ll think. I don’t want any rumors floating around”

“And you know, I’d do more than just holding your hand,” Mark said leaning closer and closer to Tara.

“Don’t even think about it, Mark” Tara chuckled, her face a mixture of amusement and regret “It’s really not the right time”

“So, you don’t let me send you flowers, you won’t let me thank you for saving my life, Tara-“ Mark inhaled loudly “I’ve been meaning to ask you out-“ Mark could almost hear an excuse escaping from Tara’s lips, so he hurried to place a finger over them “You can’t say no, the only valid answer is a place and a date”

Tara shook her head defeated “Is it supposed to be a date?” She dared to question although she knew very well it was.

...

[amazingdriverfics]

Crowned by the devil - ch. 12

Summary: you knew that you had to talk to Kylo, but you also knew that it wouldn’t be pretty. 

Warnings: Kylo is a dick, child abuse mention, slavery, trauma 

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since the last time I update this and it makes me feel bad, I really like this story and to hera your feedback, but College has been really intense and working things out has been hard. 

Despite that, I really do hope that you all like this, just beware of the warnings as usual and be safe. Love you all. 

My masterlist

Previous Chapter 

You woke up in the warm bed, but this time it almost seemed cold when compared to the boiling guilt pumping in your veins and making your stomach hurt. You opened your eyes to discover that Kylo wasn’t laying by your side anymore and the fact made you feel relieved, the last thing you were looking for was the knight prying on your confused mind once more before trying to convince you that everything was fine. 

Everything was most certainly not fine, he wanted to own you and you had given into his wishes the previous night, you who promised that the only owner of yourself would be you for the rest of your life. No matter how much Ren could please you, it shouldn’t be enough for you to betray everything you had become in your life and everything you had fought for. 

The problem with the realization was how you would make him understand, you knew that Kylo always had his way, after all, he ruled most of the Galaxy, and you were also aware that it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation since both you and him had a temper. And so you decided that for the time being you would enjoy your time without Kylo. 

After you sort of figured things out, getting ready for your day was surprisingly easy, you were actually excited to work with Mitaka in the project, excited to show your side of the story to the powerful old man sitting in chairs while deciding who deserved to live and who deserved to die. Even if you and Kylo didn’t work out, you would leave your mark in the Order, you would represent the millions ignored by their politics. 

Determined, you walked through the halls, passing troopers and other workers as you headed to the meeting room where Mitaka would wait for you before heading to the library, it was research day.

When you finally got to the room, you saw the lieutenant, seeming as excited as usual, sat at the table, his face holding a gentle smile as his eyes turned to you. 

“Miss y/n” his voice echoed through the empty meeting space and it caused you to smirk, his usual formality towards you seemed funny. 

“Good morning, Mitaka. Quit the miss as I said please, we are friends now” as he assimilated the words you could see redness spreading and staining his light coloured face. 

“Thank you, y/n” he said your name with a certain caution as if he was testing it in his tongue, almost like it was a foreign word, something entirely new. “Are you ready to head to the library? We have a full day ahead of us”.

You nodded still amused with his reaction, it wasn’t very often that anyone would treat you with such respect and kindness and you admired his capacity to do so. 

Once again, you followed him through the endless amount of halls in the Steadfast, walking past empty bucket faces and hoping that you wouldn’t be found by or find Kylo, knowing that the encounter would ruin your day.

With a bit of anxiety, you kept on following the man watching as he paid his respect to some of the other officers and as they ignored you just as much as you ignored them. 

Your anxiety, however, dissipated as Mitaka stopped, the library coming to view and the thousands of books, archives and documents taking your breath away. It was the first time you had ever seen something like that and in your wildest dreams you would have never imagined that so many books even existed. 

In your astonished state, you failed to realize that Mitaka was already inside the library and waiting for you with a look that seemed sad and you knew it meant that you were staring too hard at the books. Ignoring his pity, you followed his lead trying to act as if nothing had happened. 

——————————————————————————

He watched his Empress drowned in the paper with the lieutenant he didn’t bother to get the name. 

Seeing her in such a different context and yet with the same amount of hunger to achieve and conquer what she wanted made his buried heart beat faster.

It scared Kylo how much he liked her, how each day the number of hours he spent thinking of her increased, how the sheer thought of seeing her made him nervous and yet excited. The worst part was that the knight knew that she still wasn’t ready to be his, she had shown sometimes that she could give into her feelings like in the tub the previous night and in his room when he cooked breakfast, but it didn’t take her too long to doubt his intentions and her feelings. 

It wasn’t like Ren imagined that it would be easy, when he decided to get her, he already knew that she was a fighter and she would fight him at all costs, but then things took a turn in the hospital after he decided to show her a little bit of how much he cared about y/n and when she finally surrendered to what she wanted, to what her body begged and to what she consciousness hated to even imagine. These turning points gave him a sense of hope.

Another turning point happened in the tub, when Kylo won the unannounced battle over control, when he proved to her that her body responded to him and wished to belong to his, when he made it clear that no one would ever please her like he would and when he showed her that her mind could not avoid her body showing her true wishes.

But he knew that things wouldn’t be as smooth as he longed to be. 

For the time being, he could be satisfied with watching as his Empress discovered new sides of herself. 

——————————————————————————

Through the thousands of pages that you and Mitaka could find about slavery, you saw yourself and your life, you read about your own abuse through the pain and writting of others and it was trully overwelming.

Mitaka kept looking at you, trying to figure out if you were okay through his own pile of paper as he also tried to get some useful information in whatever he was reading. 

What truly hurted you wasn’t even the amount of abuse and pain you had been reading through, it was the fact that this information, that watching millions being abused and having their lives torn apart wasn’t enough reason for the men in power to abolish slavery. You knew that they had to have economic and politic reasons to spare their lives, to imagine them as beings deserving to be their own owners and to be free. 

——————————————————————————

“Where did I come from, master?” you asked Kreat, fear already in your veins. 

The question filled your mind constantly, but the courage to ask him never accompanied the need to know. You weren’t that clueless, after master taught you how to read you found some books here and there and you heard people talking, so you knew that Kreat couldn’t be your father. 

The first evidence was that he never treated you like one of his blood, the second was that you didn’t look like him at all and lastly there wasn’t a woman that he had a relationship with. 

Kreat never told you how he found or bought you, you weren’t sure which one was the case, all he ever said to you was that you owned him loyalty and love because he took care of you when no one in this Galaxy wanted to do so, that he gave you a warm home and food when you were supposed to perish in the hot Tatooine’s sand and he didn't even ask too much of you. 

“Oh Angel, I was starting to wonder when you would ask me that, you are twelve after all” the man said with the sweet voice he used with you whenever he wanted something or when you had pleased him enough. “But I regret to inform you, that you are here because your parents could never love you and so they gave you to someone that could do that” he took his hand to your face, gently caressing your skin.

——————————————————————————

You entered your quarters tired, more emotionally than physically, but it all added up in a gigantic ball of stress spreading through your body at a speed never seen before. You knew that the research had to be done in order to achieve - or try to - a greater good, this motive and Mitaka were the only things keeping you motivated. 

All the excitement you had felt in the morning as you walked towards the meeting room vanished as your traumas, one by one, were brought to the surface, feeding your internalized fears as a hush of adrenaline kept on pumping in your veins. This self feeding system with no apparent end happened all day and as you lied in your bed, not bothering to take your clothes off, you still felt the results on your mind and body.

And when you believed that the cycle couldn’t get worse, the door opened, revealing the same tall figure that had paid you a visit the previous night, his dominant energy filling up the room.

You immediately sight, the frustration you had been dealing with quickly increasing followed by anxiety. All the guilt you had been able to pull away also mixing with the rest of your overwhelming emotions. 

“Kylo, I really want to be alone” you informed politely, doing your best to disguise your feelings, but your request didn’t seem to be enough reason for the knight to leave, since you could still hear his footsteps getting closer. 

“And why is that?” his deep voice resonated and unlike the last time you heard it, all it did was increase your discomfort. 

“Not in the mood to talk, leave” you stated your request one last time, taking your head off the bed and staring at his emotionless brown eyes. 

“I can feel your unease about me” he said, still ignoring your request and doing whatever he wanted, as usual. 

The action caused you to close your hands in fists, feeling your nails touch your skin, the small gesture helping you to keep it together, the last thing you needed was to fight with Kylo.

“Not now” you tried once again, but he ignored your needs once again and in that moment you knew it was a lost battle.

“You are still holding on, let go” you heard him as he towered your figure on the bed, his eyes still not leaving yours as he studied you.

His request did nothing but anger you further, it wasn’t like you expected him to be any different, but his level of selfishness and his complete difficulty to understand that you just couldn’t give away everything that made you who you were kept on surprising you. He was truly an infuriating man. 

“Why should I do it? Give me one good reason to betray everything that I am Kylo when you can’t even respect one simple request” you spitted the words and you could already see his body tensing up as he assimilated what you had said.

Despite his tense posture, his voice didn’t come up harshly, it almost seemed broken as he tried to make you understand, trying to convince you once again to give into his needs, to give into his needs. 

“There are plenty -” he started. 

The way he spoke wasn’t enough to stop your outburst, however, as you walked towards the other end of the room, getting away from the bed you had been seeking comfort on and away from Kylo, you allowed your doubts to finally be said out loud.

“Are they? I don’t even know you Kylo while you know everything about me. You know things that I wouldn’t want anyone to know, you are in my fucking head all the time, but you never show me a piece of yours”. 

Closing the space between you and him, his face allowed you to see his feelings perfectly, his twitching chin, his frown and lips in a furious pout were enough proof of his anger.  

“You know everything you need to know about me” he said, abandoning the soft tone in which he had spoken to you just moments ago. 

His statement made you laugh dryly, in fact his audacity to even suggest that you already knew enough as a whole did. 

“You must be insane. You want me to marry you, but you can’t even bring yourself to tell me about your family, about your story. Where did you grow up, Kylo? Are your parents alive? Are they nice people? What did you want to be as a child? Because there’s no fucking way for you to have been the Supreme Dick of this place since you were born” you didn’t exactly think before speaking, you never did when you were angry. However, as soon as his face changed to a much darker expression, you knew you had crossed a line and, for the first time since you got kidnapped by him, you were genuinely afraid of what he could do to you. 

“I will not stand this kind of insolent behavior, I will tell you what I wish to tell you. You have no right to do any requests, you are just a no one I saved. All you really need to know is that no one gave a fuck about you a few months ago, if you died, no one would even grief over you. All you need to know is that at least now you have someone who cares about you, and that someone is me and I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

His words echoed through your head mixing with the fresh memory of what Kreat had said to you many years ago. All the anger you had been feeling vanished as disgust took over, disgust of his behavior and, most of all, disgust of yourself for getting in this situation with a monster.

Closing your fists as tears streamed down your face, you punched his chest still so close to you with as much strength as you had, hoping and begging any greater power that it would be enough for him to leave you alone as you screamed the word ‘leave’ as loud as you possibly could. You never wanted to see him again.

[hydra-collector]

Let Me Go: Chapter 1

AO3 

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Pairings: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Janus Sanders (minor character)

TW: sucide attempt, self harm, blood, cursing

Words: 1,238

Summary: Logan attempts suicide. His friend Virgil and his partner Remus are there to try and help. Sanders Sides high school AU.

Note: Virgil is cis and aroace. Logan is cis, panromantic and asexual. Remus is nonbinary and gay.

Logan stared at the beads of blood arising from his thighs and calves. He didn’t want this right now. He was all for self-harming at the moment, don’t get him wrong, but he didn’t want the blood. He wanted to hit his arms, his torso, his legs until they bruised black and blue.

But he didn’t have the energy for that.

To be fair, he didn’t have the energy for much of anything. He'd spent the night, and the morning, torturing himself, reminding himself of all the shitty things happening. All the people that hated him. He wished he would die. Other people did, too, according to his Tumblr ask box. But he'd still diligently go to high school when all he needed was a break, talk to his friends even when his depression made it tortuous to fake happiness, ignore the hate on his sexuality and romantic orientation.

He had friends that knew, though. Virgil, who had guessed, Janus, who had also guessed, Remus, who hadn't explicitly talked about it but had obviously guessed (they dropped hints whenever appropriate, or whatever appropriate for them was). They probably didn't think it was this bad, though.

Maybe he should die and they'd know without him having to tell them. He couldn't fucking talk anyway. No one cared about what he said. He hated what he said. 

He hated himself. 

Better fucking go to school then, not the time to be a disappointment.

He heaved himself to the bathroom, planning to stop the blood and nothing more. He checked the time. 7:43. He was going to be late. 

In the time Logan was willing to treat his cuts, (about two minutes) they didn't stop bleeding, but he didn't really care. He had black pants. 

Logan anxiously checked his watch throughout the bus ride, arriving four minutes after eight, late. He felt far worse than most days.

For being late? 

Virgil greeted him when he walked into the building, but he was far too depressed to say much. His friend knew this was a warning sign, for despite Logan's often introverted or antisocial, even, personality, he was always polite, answering people. Always. 

"You doing okay, Lo?"

"Fine," he answered quickly and with tears forming, which he quickly wiped away, fake-cleaning his glasses.

Virgil knew not to push it, at least not now. If he asked him later, after he was calmer, he might be more open. 

The pair worked through their classes, Logan avoiding speaking at all costs (as well as doing his work, when he could) while Virgil tried his best to keep tabs on Logan's mood during their shared classes. 

Then lunch came.

Virgil figured Logan's mood was a bit better. If not ask him now, he might not get the chance. He had to make sure Logan was okay. 

The noise in the cafeteria was drowning when Remus slid in next to Logan, their boyfriend since sophomore year, and hugged his torso, pressing their legs against Logan's. Logan flinched them away, earning a concerned look from Virgil on the opposite booth. Logan shrugged it off, turning his attention to his partner who was now nuzzling his neck and gave them a head kiss.

"Lo? You okay? You usually say stuff, babe."

Virgil stayed behind when the other two headed to get lunch. Logan got it to follow the school rules, while Remus just got it because it was shit (and was also easily mixed together). Virgil prepped himself to confront Logan before he saw it. 

Blood. There was blood on Logan's leg. 

Shit. 

"Logan, is your leg okay?"

He froze sliding into his seat, hand reaching seemingly to feel the exposed part of his ankle, panic emerging on his face before he wiped his hand and attempted to act normally. 

"It's nothing, Virgil. I'm fine."

"You sure, babe?" Shit. Now Remus is worried too. 

"I-I'm fine, really. Really."

Neither tablemates were convinced.

"Lo, I need to see your leg."

You're so fucking stupid. You could have prevented this. Cleaned it and wrapped it, maybe? Too little energy for that, too?

"Please, Lo. I need to make sure you're okay."

I fucking hate you, Logan. 

He reluctantly pulled the dark, bloodied fabric from his calves. This revealed several long cuts that seemed to be still bleeding slightly, and whose blood stained most of his leg. 

Virgil stared, almost in fear, at the sight. "We need to get you to the nurse, wrap them up."

"No."

"Logan, please."

"No. They're fine. I don't need to treat them."

"Lo, they're gonna get infected." Remus took Logan's hand, who pulled it away.

"I don't care. I don't care what happens to them. They could fucking kill me. I don't care."

"Babe, it's hurting you."

"Pain is subjective. I'm gonna die anyway. Who fucking cares?" Irritation crept into Logan's eyes.

"Logan, you need to get help!" Virgil was close to tears.

"I don't want it!"

"Don't you want to be happy?"

"I'm not fucking good enough to be happy!"

"Logan, we both care about you so much! Janus too! You're an amazing person and you don't have to feel this way. Please, let us help."

"No."

"We can't let you die from this!"

"I WANT TO FUCKING DIE, VIRGIL!"

He slumped back on the bench, shoving his pant leg down. Virgil had nothing else he could say to help Logan. Remus offered their hand to Logan, who at first refused it but then moved closer to them to receive a hug. He kissed Remus's cheek before leaving the booth and offering Virgil a hug as well. He took it before Logan left the booth entirely. 

"I'm sorry. I love you guys, too."

He walked over to Janus’s table and presumably did the same thing.

"Logan?"

He didn't answer, but instead kept walking away. Virgil and Remus watched him as he left the cafeteria. The pair decided to follow him. 

Logan walked up the stairs faster than Virgil or Remus did. Up the stairs. Further up the stairs. And further. 

"Oh my god. Logan, wait!"

He ignored Virgil's pleas and began to run, Virgil following. Further until he reached the fence barring him and the roof. He climbed over it easily, while Virgil in his panic struggled to get his legs over. Remus offered their help, but not before Logan had reached the spot they couldn't see from there. 

"Logan, please," Virgil called in a last desperate attempt to get him to listen.

They ran up the stairs to the roof to find Logan already standing on the edge. 

Virgil ran faster than he ever had. 

Remus lagged behind, as their legs weren't as long as Virgil's. Still, they ran as fast as possible.

Logan knew he'd have to jump now. He drew in a last breath and stepped over.

Logan found himself in Virgil's arms, instead. His terrified face was beautiful. 

He remembered why he was there. He began squirming, trying to be released from Virgil's grip. 

"Let me go!"

"No, Logan."

"You'll fall too! I can't let you fucking die."

"Come back, please."

He continued to fight Virgil. Remus stepped in to take Logan by the torso, pulling him closer to solid ground. Remus was stronger than Virgil, but not Logan. Tears streamed down his face, his whole body reaching to be free. Remus held on, held on, they tried, they swear they tried-

“I love you.”

And Logan was free.

[georgemackayhey]

Silver Lining: Chapter 5

In which you and George decide to make the most of life after meeting up at the wrong place at just the right time…

w/c: 6k

a/n: Welcome to the end! This has been such a fun story to tell. I hope you've all enjoyed it! I'm so beyond grateful for all the nice comments and reblogs and asks. I've got blurbs and another series in the works, but please feel free to come talk about this one! I'm just not ready to say goodbye to these characters! ♡

taglist: @etherealallure​ @maria-josefin​ @shelbygirlsclubx​ @loulouloueh​ @clarkewithameme​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @weyheyavengers​ @queen-bunnyears​

<Last Chapter Masterlist>

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George was happily occupied, his silhouette comfy on the small balcony, the sun highlighting the pages of the book in his hands. You quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light, letting the glow from the window be enough while you filled up the tub and eased into the warm bath.

You felt bad, but it wasn't from the hangover.

You felt bad for ruining Aureos night. You even felt bad as you formed some sorry text, asking the guy for another hang to make up for the last one you forced to an early end.

But you felt worst of all for dragging George through the aftermath of your shitty breakup.

When this was all over, he'd go back home, back to whatever movie set or red carpet he had lined up next. And his acquaintance would be fondly remembered as a balm to your heartache. But as you tried to outrun the anguish of being cheated on, a different worry seemed to take over your world.

Now you feared you'd never get to that place again. That you'd never get to plan a future with someone. You were terrified of how badly you wanted a future, and how badly you'd miss George, no matter what happened next.

When all your worries threatened to drown you, you hurried to get cleaned up, determined to make the most of the last few days in Spain.

When you rushed out of the bathroom to find George, he was right where you remembered him to be earlier.

He gazed up at you with a hint of worry in his eye, probably because of your sudden breathless appearance in the open doorway of the balcony.

"What do you want to do today?" You asked.

"Don't we have something-"

"No, what do you want to do?" You stressed. You didn't care what you had all planned out. Nothing ever seemed to go according to your plans, anyway.

And after a little bit more convincing, you got George to lead the way. You didn't even ask where you were going. While you strolled into the city, you wondered if George even had a plan. He walked slowly and shared easy conversation. And every now and again, he'd turn an odd corner or look up and around like he'd just realized where he was.

Eventually, you ended up in a park, or a garden, or some kind of nature trail you hadn't been paying much attention. You stepped over fallen branches, swept your hand over a row of flowers as you passed, but kept your undivided attention on George as he spoke. Though the weather was perfect and the sights were new and exciting, you couldn't look away from the man at your side. You could come back to Barcelona any old time, but you hated to accept your days with George were numbered.

You wound up against the trunk of a tree, watching families and hikers stroll past while the sun shone down in spots through the treetops. You could see the trail winding down a rolling hill, and the pepperings of the city and its buildings start to pop up on the horizon. And while you accounted for your surroundings you soaked up George's voice, and listened to the things he said as if he might be gone when you woke up tomorrow.

And then you talked, and George listened, looking at you like he did. Like he'd looked at all the paintings at the Vatican. Like he really wanted to know what you were about. You tried to ignore how sad his gaze made you feel, and appreciated that you'd made such a valuable connection before all of this inevitably ended back at your hometown airport.

You brushed a fallen leaf from George's shoulder, and he grinned at you in a way that made you retract back; spooked by how you recognized the expression, how familiar sitting with him had become.

George asked if you were okay, and you quickly thought to blame your nervous demeanor for how poorly you felt about last night. How things ended with Aureo, and how you'd texted him early this morning in hopes that he'd give you a second chance.

"He texted me back, an hour ago. So I'll have to meet up with him later." You rambled, avoiding George's burning gaze.

"If you feel like you have to... then don't. But if you want..."

"Yeah. I want." You decide through a sigh, pulling your phone into view, punching out a response to Aureo that let him know our plans were on.

George remained quietly glancing toward the city on the horizon, listening to families laugh together as they drifted passed. When you finished your text, you stood to your feet to make the most of the rest of your time with George.

"Come on let's go get gelato." You extended a hand to help him up from against the tree. George smiled up at you, an expression that wasn't hard to understand. You laughed together all the way back down the trail, and into the city.

When you go there, people of all kinds were buzzing about, setting up makeshift markets and dancing to music crackling from speakers above shop windows.

George lost himself to a conversation with a street vendor about a row of old records they were selling. You left him there to cross the cobblestone with your eye on a food truck. You ordered gelato as you promised, guessing what to order for George based on your late-night debates on what the best ice cream flavors were.

You handed your card to the man behind the window, while you let the wind blow your hair back, soaking up the bright smiles on every passerby's face.

"I'm sorry, miss, this card, it's being declined." The vendor frowned as if it were his fault. He opted to try again before you had the chance to apologize yourself and suggest the same thing.

It was the only card you had, and you'd made sure it was more than equipped to handle your big trip. But alas, the vendor handed it back with a long face and you had to shell out some of the last euros you had on hand.

You reported back to George with gelato, breezed over your predicament, and moved on to giggling over a story George told about an ice cream truck-related injury. He informed you'd gotten his order perfectly right, it was a flavor he'd never pick on his own but ended up loving. All the while you ended up strolling back toward your hotel, but opted not to head in just yet. The wind had picked up a bit, and most of the beachgoers outside your resort had called it a day.

You walked along the in coming tide with George, stopping every few feet to pick up a shell or look out to the ocean as it roared in time with the wind. And for as much conversation as you'd been having, the two of you never ran out of topics to ramble over. You laughed and listened and talked about things you'd forgotten about, things you always wondered.

All topics except one. George looked at you with those eyes bluer than the ocean, something unspoken behind his gaze. At first, you thought you'd understood that look. But it'd morphed into something so complex that you couldn't figure out what the look was supposed to mean. All you knew was that every time he cast you that one certain gaze, you felt right at home. You'd gotten used to it. You expected it. You anticipated that look and feared for the day you'd never see it again.

You sent George to collect your shoes from the place you hid them under a pier, when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You stayed lingering near a bed of grass, hoping after you'd taken a beat to acknowledge all the notifications coming in, that you could go about the rest of your day.

They were all from your bank. A pit opened in your stomach when you scrolled through all your recent transactions, none of them made by you. All of them from the resort you were meant to stay at all along.

Colin had maxed out your card on room service and bar drinks and expensive film channels and God knows what else.

Before you could call your bank, you dialed in Colin's number.

"Why would you do this?" You begged to know after he greeted your call like he'd been expecting to hear from you.

Colin started in on calling you names and boasting about how his payback seemed to work. He was trying to get back at you for leaving all the canceled wedding costs in his lap. But he cheated on you. He ruined all of this. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop making your life hell. You shouted at him, begging for a truce. Pleading for your interactions to be over, to never see a trace of him again.

That's when you spotted George trekking through the sand with his of pair shoes and yours in either of his hands.

Colin made life hard and maybe he always would. George made life easy, and you were really scared that he wouldn't be around to help you see the bright side for much longer. You always figured you'd fly home and go your separate ways. But now that same thought made you want to cry.

You ended your phone call with Colin in a huff, scrambling to find every bit of composure as George approached you, wearing a look that seemed to ask what the matter was.

"God, this is so stupid." You warned, glancing up to George as he stood, ready to listen.

"Colin maxed out my bank account. Luckily our tickets home are already paid for." You let out a laugh but none of this was funny. "And it's nearly five. I promised Aureo I'd meet him round six. So I better go pull myself together."

You sucked in a breath and turned to do just that. George looked at you like there were too many things he wanted to say, but couldn't choose one from the other, so he just followed along.

___

You got ready with time to spare, putting on your best outfit, fixing your hair just right. For some reason, this date felt paramount. Like making things right with Aureo was going to help everything else fall in place, bring some kind of balance.

As you collected your bag and started to slowly make your leave, George seemed to be waiting for you in the kitchen, standing a little straighter from his slump against the counter when he noticed you enter. George looked at you with an honest open expression, stitched with a hint of worry. No, not worry, something more complex. A disgruntled, melancholic gaze you couldn't quite place. But then he just said,

"I hope you have a good time."  

And it sounded like he really meant it.

"Me too." You whispered, spinning to leave. That same sinking feeling swallowed you as you marched down the hall away from George. You knew it was because you didn't really want to leave him. But you promised Aureo a good time and damn it, you needed one too.

___

Aureo was confident. He spoke like he was wishing for the things he wanted, demanding they come to life before his eyes. He wanted more. You didn't blame him for dreaming big. Everyone had their ambitions.

Aureo was beautiful, and he must have known it, with the way he flaunted his outfit, rambling about how green and grey were his best colors. You admired the way his emerald eyes bore into yours, undeniably drinking in the sight of you.

After a small introduction to the lower level of his home, you ventured to the back garden. You turned down a smoke, but leaned against the brink of his veranda while he puffed a cigarette, pointing out all the fresh veggies in the small garden he grew, like a proud parent.

And then he led you back inside, his hand traveling to the small of your back as you stepped into his cool home. You settled onto an elegantly patterned sofa as Aureo poured you both a tumbler of dark liquor before joining your side.

You kept hold of the glass in your lap, sickened even by the thought of drinking. Thank God Aureo was too busy talking to notice your disregard for the beverage. He asked your own answers too, watching your lips as you spoke. And before too long, he leaned in for a kiss.

You knew it was inevitable. You knew this was why you'd come here. So you let him kiss you, and you kissed him back, hoping the more desperately you gave in to his advances, that you would feel something. But you didn't feel what you were supposed to when kissing someone. You weren't expecting fireworks. But a warm buzz would have been nice. To make matters worse, no; to make matters absolutely inadequate, you couldn't stop thinking of George.

Had he gone out? What was he thinking? What would he say when you got back? What if he kissed you like this?

"Wait." You breathed, sitting back.

"Are you alright?" Aureo asked, watching you lean way from him.

"Actually..." You bit your lip, glancing around the well-decorated room. You realizing you couldn't stay here. When you looked back to Aureo, he actually looked sad. Not just disappointed. Actually sad. You slumped forward, searching his eyes when he brought a gentle hand to your face.

"I'm so sorry." You meant, hoping he knew you did. "But I... I think I'd better go."

Aureo took a beat to wait for you to explain why, or say anything else at all. But you didn't. You couldn't.

"Okay." He nodded acceptingly, nudging you to stand with him.

The guy called you an Uber and refused your persistent offers to pay him back. When your ride came, you and the guy you'd met days ago shared a kiss on the cheek and a whispered goodbye. And it was almost sweet enough to make you think of staying a little longer.

But still, thoughts of George burned closer to the forefront of your mind, and you kept walking down the gravel driveway. You dared to steal one last glance over your shoulder, finding Aureo leaning against his doorway, giving you a sorry wave. The sight was almost somber enough to get you to spin on your heels and make it up to him. But you just opened the Uber door.

You realized how when you'd felt like saying goodbye to George you'd only wanted to kiss him. You realized you were relieved when he didn't meet up with Renee because you were used to having him all to yourself. You realized you wanted to keep it that way. You had been trying to push theses feelings deep down, but you had absolutely nothing left to lose at this point. You'd been drunk a lot on this trip, but you'd never felt braver than right now...

When you unlocked the hotel room door, you chanted silent prayers that George would be around. If you had to wait until tomorrow, you wouldn't be able to say what you had the guts to, right now.  You didn't waste a beat as you marched straight toward the halfway shut door of the room George had been occupying. A soft light shone from inside.

You halted after pushing past the door, making your presence known. George was kicked back on his bed, reading, and he didn't seem a bit surprised to see you here and now.

"Okay. I have nothing left to lose. So I'm gonna say what I have to say. I didn't hook up with Aureo. I left.  Because the whole time he touched me I was only thinking of you. Maybe that's fucked up but that's just the truth."

George listened from behind the crinkled pages of "A Perfect Day For Bananafish" keeping that frighteningly calm gaze on you, while you spilled your guts.

"So... so unless I've been misreading the dozens of signs, I think it's safe to gather that you'd like to kiss me. And if that's true, you should do it. Right now." You stated in one nervous breathe, frustrated by all the lingering gazes, little touches, and thoughts that had never been acted upon.

"No," George hesitated but demanded all at once, in the fabulously complex manner of his. He shut the book in his lap and moved slowly to the edge of the bed to stand, keeping an eye on you as you went on,

"You said I was perfectly kissable! And no one has ever looked at me like you keep looking at me. Even right now." Your throat grew tight as you addressed the expression on George's face. Why was he moving to stand so close to you if he didn't want to kiss you? For the first time, you saw a faint chip in the resolve of his usual composure. George's eyes grew full as he spoke in a voice thick with feeling,

"Because I don't want to be your rebound!"

"Well, what if you weren't!" There was no need to hide the way your tears bubbled over as you gaped at him. It was the only way you could get George to understand how you really felt. How you weren't playing devil's advocate. How this wasn't your usual banter. Your heart was on the line.

"Don't talk like that-" George looked afraid, like if you said something just right three times in a row it'd appear and he'd have no choice but to give in to the spell. You had a shred of bravery left in your throat and breathed out every word you could manage before the strength fizzled away.

"George! I like you! I liked you from the moment we got on the plane. I liked you in the Sistine Chapel. I like you now, and I don't see a way out of it and I don't want a way out of it- I want you to kiss me. I want to fly back home with you because I'll still like you when we get there."

George was slack-jawed, mystified by your monologue, and as soon as the words stopped coming, the vice around your throat tightened and your tears poured out all the emotion you'd been building up, but could no longer speak. You cried into your hands, feeling sorry for how pathetic you were, and sorry for thinking up this dumb idea to invite George along in the first place.

You could hardly breathe as you felt George's strong arms wrap around you. One secured around your middle, the other across your shoulder, totally encapsulating you. As much as it was a relief to have him so near, his closeness broke your heart all the same. You cried onto his nightshirt and clung to the collar, knowing full well you would have to apologize for all this later but grateful for the compassion he chose to show now.

He didn't speak as you managed your cries, he just held on to you for dear life. When you were reduced to sniffles, George pulled away, his deep blue eyes catching yours. He didn't speak then either. He just brushed a stray tear from your cheek and searched your features as you hoped and prayed you didn't look half as pathetic as you felt.

And right when enough time had passed for you to feel like speaking up, George gently pulled you across the room. He wordlessly pushed you toward the bed back against the mess of pillows and switched out the light. He then made his way round to the other side and met you in the middle.

The usual sliver of space between you and George was forgotten, as he settled right next to you. And without saying anything, he pressed a very soft kiss to the side of your face. George's lips lingered against your temple, for a beat longer than you'd expected, and with each passing nanosecond, your heartbeat stuttered between speeding up and sinking to the floor.

When George pulled your head to rest on his shoulder and kept a warm strong hand rested at the base of your neck, you could have cried again. But you knew better than to ruin the moment, and relaxed your frame against his, drifting to sleep.

___

You woke up to the sound of crashing waves and hollers from beachgoers off in the distance. You were in a big, empty bed, delicately tucked beneath covers you never remembered reaching for. When you registered George's absence, you took a moment to recall everything that happened last night.

How Colin had taken one last petty shot at getting a rise out of you. How you tried to give in to Aureo, and how the night ended without much of a bang. How you crashed into George's room, babbling confessions, all of them falling flat at your feet even though George was kind enough to pull you close, even just for a moment.

You heaved a heavy sigh, pushing yourself from the bed that wasn't yours, and slipping into the bathroom unnoticed. You brushed your teeth, and tightened the sheer cardigan around you that was meant to cover your skimpy outfit meant for last night, that you didn't even give a damn about anymore.

You found George happily humming away in the kitchen, making breakfast with some ingredients you'd picked up from La Boqueria days before.

You planned to silently sulk across the way to your room, but George stopped you, turning from the stove like a worried mother, informing he was making the best breakfast of his life and you'd be a fool to miss out. You knew that.

"I'm not hungry." 

You were embarrassed. You floated away from the kitchen to your bedroom, wondering if you should start to pack your things. You hadn't expected the trip to be perfect, but you'd hardly prepared for it to go as wrong as it had.

You gathered a handful of discarded dresses, turning to find your suitcase, when you heard George ease into the room.

"What are you doing?"  He asked in a hush.

"Packing." George stepped closer, halting in front of you. He looked right at you while he took the dresses from your grasp, discarding them on the floor. Funny, you finally got him to throw your clothes somewhere behind you. He was wearing that look again, the one that made your heart speed up and the world slow down all at once.

"I shouldn't have said anything at all last night, let alone freaked out. I'm sorry." You shied away from his gaze, feeling like a little girl. George let you but slowly moved to see your face once more.

"I'm sorry. I was afraid you were just... I don't know... not thinking clearly."

"Why are you sorry? I wasn't drunk, George. I was just being honest." You look down, feeling sick about how vulnerable you'd been. You sucked in a breath as you moved away in a daze, heading toward the desk where your suitcase was nestled in the corner. You couldn't think with George looming over you with his sleep tangled hair and intense expressions.

As you traced your fingers along the grain of the desk you gazed out of the window to a palm tree that covered much of the view of the beach.

"Y/n..." 

George's voice crept up the back of your spine. You turned from the desk, gripping the edge for security as George came to face you again. 

How had you ended up here? Thoughts flickered into your head but flickered away when George locked his dazzling blue eyes with yours. He placed either of his hands on the side of the desk just beside where yours found real estate. George was eye level with you now and he was searching your face with his starry eyes that were closer than ever. And slow, like sunrise, he leaned in closer.

George pressed his lips against yours as slowly and sweetly as he'd kissed your temple last night. Before you could lose yourself to the feeling, you rose a hand to George's chest and held it there, so he hesitantly pulled away.

"Please don't kiss me just because I asked you too." You sighed, eyes still screwed shut. You could have done that one thousand more times, but not out of pity. When you dared to open your eyes, you found George patiently waiting to meet your gaze.

"I wanted to." George spoke, softly. "I've wanted to kiss you like that since you freaked out on the plane to Rome. I wanted to kiss you at all those museums and every time you've told a lame joke since then. And I'll still want to kiss you when we get back home. I like you, too."

George echoed your monologue from the night before, with his own twist. His voice was low and gentle but full of assuredness. His eyes stayed glued on yours while your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as he went on speaking. And when he was finished, you just stood there, gaping at him. Trying to wrap your head around his words and the action preceded them.

George looked at you in that way he did. In that way no one ever had before.

Lifting his hand toward your face, he slowly trailed a finger across your jaw, letting his thumb land on your chin. Your lips subtly parted, and George fixed his gaze on your mouth as a smirk bloomed across his. Then, he leaned in to kiss you again. But this time was very different. Your mouths opened against each other's and your fingers unlatched from their grip on the table behind you.

Your fingers curled around his neck as George let his fingers slowly creep down your sides, until they reached your hips. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you onto the desk you leaned against, closing the gap between the two of you. It was a gesture you'd been dreaming of that was far more electric than your imagination made it out to be.

"I'm sorry it took me till now to do this." George breathed, his lips brushing against yours not daring to miss a second of contact.

"Better late than never, huh?" You grinned, nudging your nose against George and looking up into his pretty eyes.

"That's the spirit." He chuckled softly, barely finishing the sentence before his lips were on yours again. One of his hands stayed pressed against your back, assuring you were held against him, while his other tangled in your hair.  George kissed you in a way that made you wonder what you'd been doing till now.

"I never dreamed you'd wanted more than wreckless fun." George spoke, as he trailed his kisses down your neck. And though you weren't too keen to stop his actions, his words held more of an impact.

You grabbed a handful of George's golden hair and pulled to make his eyes look right in yours.

"I do want to have wreckless fun. With you. For a long, long time." You confessed. No more secretly longing gazes and careful touches, hoping your multitude of feelings might have been conveyed.  

"So back to London together it is then, yeah?" George picked you up from the desk with a cheeky grin.

"Just long enough to plan our next adventure." You suggested through a giggling as he tossed you onto the bed you'd been occupying.

George smiled the loveliest smile you'd ever seen as he crawled over the top of you and reached for the string that tied your coverup together.

"Shall we pick up where we left off then?" George leaned in to purr in your ear, letting his fingers trail across your thigh.  

How was something so new and exciting so familiar? You decided not to think about it, and dove back in for another kiss.

___

That's how you spent the rest of the day and the entire night, never too far from right beside George. As your reality settled into the daydream scenario you never expected to come true, you found nothing much had really changed.

You'd spent this whole trip together, consulting over the best wine to order over dinner and arguing over what the best tv show of all time was. So while spending a day in bed at George's side left you starry-eyed, his company was familiar. And that was the best part of all.

You went on, making each other laugh like normal. Sharing old forgotten stories and thinking up new ones. George listened, as you whispered into the late, late night, like kids at a slumber party.

Waking up to his limbs pinning you lazily to the mattress even felt familiar, like something you should have been used to for a while now.

And reluctant as you both were to come out from under the sheets, it was your last full day in Barcelona. So after some careful consideration over breakfast coffee, you and George picked a handful of things to do from the list you'd created months in advance.

The first stop was lunch. You would miss the food in Spain most of all. You even took a few photos of the beautifully plated tapas you'd ordered and posted it to Instagram right away, using some over the top caption and everything.

After a frustrating morning chat, your bank informed you that it would be a few business days until your account was all sorted out. So, because of that and the fact that you only had a few euros left, you let George pay for lunch, who acted as if his evil plan had come to fruition. He'd hadn't stopped trying to cover bills since the first night in Rome.

Then you proceeded to muck about the city like kids on a residential trip. You went from hilltops to fountains to a couple of markets you'd been to before, marveling over all the sights and sounds of the city. You took more photos during the afternoon romp through the city than you had the whole trip. You sent some straight to Instagram and some to your mother. But mostly, you tossed your phone right back in your bag so you could turn your attention to George. To focus on the way his smile grew while he spoke, before laughing too hard to finish his sentence. To revel in the feeling of his hand holding yours. Feeling a little luckier every time he stole a kiss in quiet parts of art galleries and around city street corners.

He eventually coaxed you into a big fancy dinner you absolutely couldn't afford, taking a long way there to enjoy the last purply golden sunset in Barcelona. The sun beamed across streets, like it didn't dare go down without a fight. In between a designer clothing shop and another row of businesses covered in blossoming vines, George stalled, turning to face you.

"Stay right here." He held your shoulders in place nodding before rushing out of view. You laughed to yourself, standing in the place you'd been made to. Before you could get lost in thoughts of how lucky this trip turned out to be, George came back around the corner with two strangers in tow.

He enlisted them to take a photo of the two of you together, George explaining that the one from outside the museums in Rome wasn't enough. You handed your phone to the older gentleman George had roped into being your photographer while his wife stood looking at a map, glancing up to smile at you all every now and again. George wasn't even looking toward the camera when it came time to.  

The old man took surprisingly good snapshots, you found, after thanking him for taking a minute to indulge George. He really was hard to say no to. There were four photos, each great from the start, better than the last. They featured George with one arm loosely wrapped around you, his focus on you entirely. You tried, but clearly couldn't quite look at the camera either, with the way George’s smile drew you in. They weren't quite candid, with the way George must have planned to be so engrossed by you.

"These are the best so far." You hummed, scrolling to admire them each.

"I have no idea if they're Instagram worthy or not, but I like them very much."

"Oh, Insta would eat these up." You laughed, but you really do mean it. They were perfectly rose-colored on their own, no filter needed. After tossing your phone away, you'd started your walk back up, the big fancy restaurant you'd choosen for dinner coming into view in the horizon.

"Then you should post them," George said, keeping his pace in time with yours, nearly to the doors of the last stop on your getaway. You figured you'd be sad when the night wound to an end. But something magnificent burned below the surface, a promise that this was only the beginning of better days.

"Are you sure? You wouldn't mind?" You asked cautiously. George had steered clear of social media for a reason. Posting something that so blatantly put George on display seemed sinful, especially regarding the photos in question; with the way you were attached to his hip. Posting those was a very big deal for a multitude of reasons.

"Well someone's gotta get the word out that we're a packaged deal now, and I'm not very well equipped. I could phone the paparazzi, since I'm so bloody famous and all, but I'd rather not." George boasted, climbing the steps of the big fancy restaurant with a coy grin on his pretty face.

"Wow. You really are lame." You joked, nudging his shoulder with yours as you passed through the golden entryway.

After you ordered meals, you opened your favorite application and fretted over a caption for the photos you were about to post. The photos of you and George bathed in the setting sunlight, your smiles somehow the brighter.

George helped, well, he made you laugh. And after tossing out a dozen ridiculous quips, you decided to keep all your best one-liners and let the photos speak for themselves. And on the walk back to the hotel you phoned your mother to save her from having a cow when you showed up at the airport with George still by your side.

Because it had been settled, over late-night conversation that slipped into a recurring topic during the day. George would come home with you. He kept saying something about not wanting to waste another secomd sitting far apart in the same room. He kept saying how lucky he felt to have you, how he'd always hoped the outcome of your acquaintance would blossom into something more. How he felt like he'd been waiting for you longer than he knew your name.

George rambled about his future. About some of the films, he was up for. How far away he'd be for some of them. He asked you to join him. To stay for a while, wherever he ended up. How he wanted you to be a part of his life.

You agreed without having to think too much about it. You always wanted someone to see the world with. You always wanted to greet someone at the end of long days. You couldn't see your future without George. You could hardly remember how you managed life before him, anyway.

On the plane back home, you were both too busy dreaming up your lives together to freak out when the ride rocketed into the sky. You watched the same movie and got shushed by the same businessman when your laughter got too loud.

And when you sleepily lingered at the baggage claim with your head rested on George's shoulder, nothing felt new and exciting. It felt normal and right.

And when you spotted your mother waiting for you in the pickup area, she was all smiles. You hadn't expected her to freak out, but you were a little nervous that she'd make much too big of a deal about who you were bringing home. But she looked calm, content even, when she reached out to greet you with a hug.

"Mom, this is George." You turned to the man in question, watching his ocean eyes linger on you for a beat as his grin stretched into a smile.

"I know." Your mother smiled too, then turned to him, reaching out for a hug. "I've read all about you in the papers and things." She chuckled just as George happily hugged her back.

You and George both threw your heads back in a shared bout of laughter. Your mother worried that she'd said something wrong, but you just assured her that George was even better in real life than all his charming interviews.

On the ride home, you fill her in on some of the details of your wild trip. George did too, and when he spoke you could tell your mother started to understand what you said at the airport. How George's complex expressions and soft-spoken manner weren't something you could properly capture on a morning talk show. How his presence seemed magical. How whatever you might expect him to say was never what you got, but better.

He made everything better. Even the things you couldn't seem to find the good parts of. Even the demolished bits of planning that remained of what was meant to be your honeymoon. 

You found out that everything happened how it was supposed to. Even though going home to what you left behind seemed daunting and dense with negativity, there was a bright shining silver lining beaming from the smile George wore when you made him laugh over and over on the way home, together.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[nxfelibatae]

pose || jimin x reader [pt.3]

When the opportunity presented itself there was no way you were going to let it go, only 10 days to make a boy fall in love, It must have been easy, but you let yourself be carried away by your feelings, and nobody should risk their heart to the ones who are addicted to play with it. Love disguises itself in many ways and it hurts when you find out it was all a lie.

pairing: fuckboy! jimin x reader!

word count: 7.3K

genre: Fluff, slight angst, light smut, how to loose a guy in 10 days AU

warnings: Alcohol use, sex references, slow burn, swearing. Everybody it's kinda lying. That's pretty much it.

A / N: inspired by the movie How to loose a guy in 10 days. First work here so please be nice guys :(. It's a two people work.

PART 1 | PART 2  | PART 3

PART 3

Day 10

'Wake your ass up!' Nayeon screams from the other side of your bedroom door 'Breakfast is ready and if you don't come out I'll eat everything on my own, you know I'll do it!'

A groan came out of your mouth when you heard her walk away from the door. Pressing a pillow against your head and closing your eyes tightly to combat the noise and the annoying daylight making its presence between the curtains of your room, wasn't too helpful, you could hear her shout your name again, followed by another threat about going in to get you out of your hair.

You knew that the only reason Nayeon was being so considerate was because she wanted to know the details of your get away with Jimin. Was it proper to call it a date? It was weird to even think about it, but you actually enjoyed it. As you open your door to avoid another shout from Nayeon, you let the smell of bacon and pancakes invade your nostrils.

The kitchen isle had always been the place to have breakfast, any day of the week. Being an apartment of two students, a dining room was not affordable and you would rarely use it. You let all your weight fall into one of the high chairs in front of the ivory table, you were clearly tired due to the few hours of sleep. Nayeon looked at you and gave you a mischievous smile as she places a plate in front of you.

'It smells really good, Nayeon. Thank you. ' A grateful smile takes place on your face, Nayeon smiles in response as she sits across from you with a large cup of coffee. 'How did you get home last night?' The tone of your voice was curious and concerned, since the night before you had only checked her room to make sure she was still alive, ignoring completely the fact that you didn't know how she got home safely.

'Oh, Mark called a taxi for me. He made sure I got home safe, he followed the driver in the app ... '

Your eyes widened in surprise. After the events of last night, the most logical thing for you was that Mark brought Nayeon home, because in your opinion his attitude was flirtatious towards her in various ways. Nayeon laughed loudly at that, assuring you that they were just friends and that he was just being nice.

'How sure are you about that?' You asked curious.

'Hundred percent sure.' Her tone drips on confidence. She takes another bite of bacon, grabbing it with her tiny fingers. She has the habit of eating with her hands sometimes.

'And that's because ...'

'He has a girlfriend, you silly,' she spits smiling 's * She arrived like five minutes after you ran away with your new boyfriend. Small, good-looking, likable, you know? But obviously Mark wouldn't leave her standing there just to take another girl home, so I told him not to worry and that I could get back on my own, he was really nice and called the taxi for me and offered to pay for it , but I rejected his offer, once I got home I texted him to let him know I was safe in bed. ' taking another bite of bacon, she finishes her story.

‘I see...’ you murmure, avoiding as much as you can the whole date with Jimin topic. You were worried about Nayeon taking too seriously this whole situation with Jimin, when it was really just a game, a story to write an article about. The idea of ​​Nayeon giving you advice wasn't what made you anxious, it was her messing with your head, giving you wrong ideas of what you felt you had under control. Did you actually have it under control?

‘So...’ she says smiling like the Cheshire cat from Alice in wonderland.

‘Nayeon...’ you warn, not letting her mess around with questions. It was too early in the morning, or at least for you, to talk about this topic and let it spin around your head again.  

‘Come on!’ She whines with sad puppy eyes. ‘I just wanna know how did it went. Where did you go? Was he nice? Was he a gentleman or is he the asshole everybody says he is with girls? Did he tried to kiss you?’ You felt overwhelmed with every question that Nayeon threw at you quickly. When Nayeon was curious or excited about something, she could speak really fast.

Blinking a few times and after taking a sip from your coffee, you took a long breath to begin answering your best friend's questions. ‘We went to grab some dinner as we said we would. He took me to this 90’s styles restaurant not far from where the party was and he was actually...nice I think? I mean he was polite, he didn’t looked at the waitress  as I thought he would, he opened the door for me when it was necessary and he also paid for the food. We talked a little bit, exchanged phone numbers and before I knew it was 4:00 am, so he brought me back home and yes, he tried to kiss me at the front door but I told him I wanted to take things slow and then slammed the door almost in his face after I said “get home safe, good night”. That’s it, that’s all it is to tell’ you took another bite of a pancake drowned a little too much in maple syrup, not giving much attention to the fact that you had a date just a few hours ago and you almost got kissed at the door.

‘I am not surprised at all that he tried to kiss you, actually. I am surprised about the whole polite thing he’s playing, you know? I’ve never heard of Jimin doing that with other girls’ she says frowning.

‘Maybe he’s trying to act different with me, but…why?’ You say with a shrug. ‘Anyways...I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would, you know?’

‘You mean you like him?’

‘I mean, yeah? Not in a romantic way, I just think he’s nice, I don’t know how to describe it.’ Your shoulders rise to emphasize your indifference.

The conversation is quickly interrupted by the doorbell, the two of you look at each other confused wondering who could be, since none of you expected visits.

‘Maybe is the mailman, I don’t know, can you check it? I'm in the middle of my pancake.’ you two laugh when you shove half of the pancake into your mouth.

Nayeon runs to see through the peephole and let out a gasp when she realizes who it is.

‘Who is it?’ words cannot be understood because your mouth was still full.

‘Umm, I think is for you.’ She answers with an excited smile as she holds you by the shoulders.

‘But, I said I wasn’t expecting anyone.’ Pieces of pancake flew out your mouth making Nayeon feel grossed out about it.

‘You might want to finish that quickly, because Jimin is waiting for you outside with a bouquet of flowers.’ Your roommate says wagging her eyebrows mischievously.

‘What?!’ Her words took you by surprise and thanks to the exaggerated amount of food inside your mouth, you started to choke. Nayeon took action and started tapping you on the back as you took a few sips of coffee to help the food down your throat, what was going on? Why is he here? You thought he would text you to set a place to meet at, not appear unannounced at your doorstep.

‘Are you okay?’ Nayeon asked worried about your condition.

‘I am, but what is he doing here?’ You murmured just to make sure he won’t listen to you.

Nayeon and you start arguing under your breath, while on the other side of the door a desperate Jimin rings the bell again.

He thought about the flowers on his way to your house caught by a red light that made him stop next to a flower shop where this beautiful flowers were displayed, he immediately thought of you, which seemed very strange to him, but at the same time made him think about the points he could earn with that detail.

Jimin made a left turn where he found parking, his next move on you was to take you on a romantic date, girls love that kind of things he thought.

‘Hey man, how much for the flowers at the front?’ Jimin asked taking his sunglasses off as he entered the shop.

‘The Roses or the Lilies?’ Asked back the florist cleaning his hands of what the floral foam had released after arranging a new bouquet.

‘I don’t know about flowers, the red ones?’ Jimin answered not really sure about it, the florist just laughed at his lack of knowledge.

‘The roses are 68,000 won’ The florist walked directly to the bouquet followed by Jimin, ‘I see you're the passionate type.’

‘I’ll take them.’ The florist took them to the front desk where the tools and wrapping paper were so he could arrange them ‘Why you say that?’ Jimin asked while watching how delicate the florist was with the flowers.

‘Well, red roses signifies enduring passion, that's why.’

He smirked a little at the comment ‘Do they?’ Jimin handed the money and left immediately, as he crossed the shop’s door he puts the sunglasses back on.

That was weird.

The sound of the motor made him put his feet on the ground, leaving the subject completely aside.

Buying flowers for a girl was not something normal for Jimin and now he was outside this girl's place with a bouquet that until now he had realized had cost him at least three whole meals at his favorite restaurant.

After arguing for what seemed like forever to you, Nayeon eagerly pushed you towards the door, encouraging you to open up even though your hair looked like a bird's nest.  Taking a long breath and trying to straighten your hair as much as possible, you open the door revealing a smiling Jimin in ripped jeans and black boots.

‘Hi.’ He said, caught up by surprise after your random look in mini shorts and stained blouse. ‘These are for you.’ He pushed the bouquet towards you.

Smiling you took it, appreciating the gesture and the bright color of the flowers. ‘Thank you...’ You took a step outside as you closed the door behind you, not letting Nayeon hear any further your conversation. ’I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.’ A nervous smile appeared on your face when you put a tuft of hair behind your ear.

‘Well, you did say that the second date depended on me so…’

You giggled at his answer. ‘Jimin I meant that you could text me so we could hang out again. I was not telling you to show up at my door by surprise.’

Jimin knew, you delivered the message very clear, but with the clock ticking against his favor, he had to take every opportunity and risk to make you fall for him as soon as possible, reason enough for him to buy the flowers in the first place too.

‘Right. I knew that.’ He started his next move, trying to be cute and looking embarrassed, a quality he really lacked. Jimin is usually described by his friends as the most scoundrel in the world. He knows that playing the innocent guy is a risky move but, again, all risk and opportunity had to be taken in this situation.

An awkward silence took over the situation, mostly due to the fact that Jimin appeared without a warning, catching you in the middle of a bite and wearing pajamas which to be honest, were very short and embarrassing. Who in college sleeps in pajamas from their favorite cartoon?

Jimin, on the other hand, finds them funny, even a little cute. That's probably why he thinks it's a good idea to make them a topic of conversation, ‘Nice pajamas.’

‘No please. They are embarrassing.’ You let out a laugh, covering your face with one hand in embarrassment.

‘They are not!’ He says with a bright smile, relieving the tension and the awkwardness between the two of you.

You laugh a little, lifting your sight just to see his beautiful smile. Something tingles in your head, a question, ticking in your tongue, ready to be spit out. Why did he wanted to see you so soon? Why was he so interested in you?

You clear your throat a little ‘Jimin I…I don’t wanna sound rude but…what are you doing here? Honestly.’

The question took him by surprise, causing him to blink a couple of times before answering, still not looking into your eyes, shifting his foot from side to side as if he was kicking an imaginary rock, he looked like a child, making your heart sink.

‘I just…I wanted to see you again, you know? I had a really great time yesterday, maybe take you out one more time, during daylight, so we could have more time together?’ Now he was looking at you with puppy eyes, his eyes make your heart fluster a little.

‘So you drove all the way to my apartment just for a maybe? What if I wasn’t home or what if I say no?’ you ask, really curious. If Park Jimin is who everyone says he was, it didn’t make much sense to you that he would sacrifice his Saturday morning just for a maybe from a girl, right?

‘You were worth the shot.’ he says as he shrugs ‘Besides, you still haven’t said no.’

He does have a point. You bite your lip, thinking how to answer, how to tease him. ‘You haven’t even asked properly…’ now you look at the flowers, leniently caressing the petals, trying to look nonchalant.

Jimin sighs, not angry or pissed, he looks like he’s having fun, smiling and holding a laugh, you guess. ‘You really want me to say it, don’t you?’ Hand runs through his hair, slightly stretching the ends. He really thinks about it, because never in his life has he said the words meaning them, his tongue lingers when he finally asks ‘Would you like to go out on a date with me? Again?’

Your face is adorn with a smile of victory and a little flash of ego in your eyes. But now that he has said the words, you find yourself not knowing what to answer.

So then you look again at his eyes, sparkling with hope and with impatience, and you feel confused, because Jimin it’s supposed to be rude, dumb and an asshole, not cute and nice.

‘I don’t know…’ you bite your lip again, playing hard to get, hoping that he shows his true self, getting angry and leaving, telling you that in the end his not going to waste his time begging

‘Pretty please?’ His tone is soft and he takes a step forward, taking your hand, stroking your check slowly.

And just like that, Jimin finds himself doing what he never does, at least not for a date. Beg. In his head, he’s sending prayers, wishing he could control minds to tell you what to do, wishing for you to say yes because now he feels like his pride is damaged.

But you don’t see it like that, you are being tricked without noticing, because you confuse his desperation with sweetness and softness, finding yourself actually wanting to say yes, and not only for the article and the whole playing with a fuckboy thing.

Jimin genuinely believes he’s getting a no for an answer, preparing himself for the worst and to take his damaged pride back home, closing his eyes when he sees you’re about to speak again to deaden the blow you’re about to deliver.

‘I…’ you look everywhere, trying to place your sight in something more than him, nervous due his proximity. ‘Could you wait for a couple of minutes? So I can put myself together a little and place this beauties in some water?’ You surprise Jimin and yourself when you spoke.

Jimin is relieved one more time, releasing the air he didn’t know he was holding until he heard you. Without erasing the apparent joy on his face, he answered 'I'll wait right here' so you let him go, disappearing once again through the white door of your apartment. Jimin felt a déjà vu when he saw you and with both arms crossed he leaned back on his motorcycle, letting the sun spray him for a few moments as he felt the heat envelop his body.

Inside, you're not surprised to see Nayeon standing by the door, probably just walking away from it to spy on you.

'Is he leaving?' She asks.

‘You ask as if you hadn’t spied on us thru the peephole, Nayeon, don't play dumb with me'

She forces a smile, as you pass her the roses Jimin was so kind to buy for you and ask her to put them in water, rushing to your room, trying to look decent in record time.

20 minutes later, Nayeon gives you a last good look at your outfit and hair, somehow she managed to get her hands on you after she saw the plaid shirt and the damp hair in a high ponytail.

You looked fresh now, with a lightweight tank top that Nayeon pulled out for you and moderately dry hair falling onto your back. You started to regret washing your hair at this time, you felt the heat consume your body due to the humidity which would probably make it fluffy after the motorcycle ride.

With a denim jacket in hand and the apartment keys in the other one, you waved Nayeon goodbye closing the door behind you, taking mental notes of every advice she gave you before you headed out.

'Don't let him kiss you just yet, just tease him about it. Flip your hair a couple of times and reject him if he tries to hold your hand. Let him know he has to earn it but send 'i like you' signals all the time. You're trying to confuse him, you got me?'

Actually, the answer was no, all the tips Nayeon had given you were contradictory to each other, even unruly, you only managed to nod to avoid keeping Jimin waiting any longer, probably dying from a heat stroke.

As you walked towards Jimin, he turned his head in your direction showing his smile.

Is he always this smily?

‘I’m sorry it took me so long.’ An awkward smile formed on your face when you were right in front of the boy.

You stared for a few seconds, seconds that were enough to re-analyze Jimin's facial structure, he was really handsome, you didn't understand how someone like him with such a reputation could have noticed you, not that you were less than the other girls, it's just that the situation didn't seem real.

'No worries' he says adopting an upright figure as he holds out your helmet. 'It's still early and there's some places I'd like to take you' He watches you carefully, taking another look at your body and your features now in broad daylight. Jimin would certainly have tried to get closer to you if he had seen you before the bet. The difference would have been in the insistence, since at the first 'no' he would've backed up.

Once he hears the little click on the snaps that fit the helmet to your head, he extends his hand to help you get on the motorcycle, wearing that bright smile of his. Giggling at the gesture, you accept the hand.

This time you place your hands around Jimin's waist without hesitation, he smirks and starts the engine. You could get used to this, the motorcycle thing. It was really relaxing, feeling the wind in your face, the sounds around you, everything felt…right. You let yourself go just like last time, for a moment you think about getting a motorcycle but your parents wouldn’t be too happy about it.

You don't know what exactly is going on with you, maybe it's Nayeon's words in your head repeating itself over and over again about sending signals, but you only act in automatic placing your chin on Jimin's right shoulder and getting closer to him when a fresh smell reaches your nose, it doesn't take long for you to realize is Jimin.

He even smells really good, does this guy has any flaws?

‘Okay, what do you think about me choosing your ice cream flavor and you choosing mine?’ Asks Jimin entering the ice cream shop after you.

‘I don’t know, you look like the kind of person who has really bad tastes.’ Your nose scrunched.

‘You didn’t think that when we were at the diner.’ He answered getting close to your face, you started to panic and remembered Nayeon's words, “Don’t let him kiss you just yet.”

‘I’ll let you have this one, sir.’ You say walking away to get to the counter where all the flavors were exhibited, ‘You have to try that one for sure!’ Jimin who just got next to you looked to where your finger was pointing.

‘Pickled Mango? That sounds gross.’ You let out a laugh when you see Jimin shake in disgust after reading the name ‘If I try that one you have to try the pear and blue cheese one.’

‘No! I refuse!’ you complain laughing ‘Let’s just get normal flavors.’ you say frowning

'Oh... so you'll chicken out?' he says, rising an eyebrow and looking at you with tease.

'What? No! I just don't want to get sick by eating ice-cream thank you very much.’ With crossed arms you stare at him, you don't let him get into your head, being firm and looking right into his eyes.

'Yeah, sure' he smiles widely. He remains quiet for a couple of seconds, looking around to se how many people were in the store, your stomach sinks due nerves, trying to defy what is his next move.

Jimin takes two steps to the nearest customer, a lady with her son enjoying her ice-cream in a cup. He taps her shoulder nicely. 'Excuse me ma’am, did you know this establishment accepted animals such as chickens?'

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you hear Jimin speak. The woman only manages to blink several times, while Jimin looks in your direction, almost mocking at you. 'You see, I thought that girl over there was my date, but it turns out ...'

It took two big steps for you to reach him, interrupting him and pulling him by the arm at the same time. 'I'm sorry.' you say with an apologetic look at the woman. 'He just got out of rehab, he doesn't know what he's saying, he's still detoxifying'

Jimin forms a wide 'O' with his mouth at your words, shouting 'Rehab?!' enough audible for several eyes to settle on you with an offended tone.  But Jimin was unwilling to give up, unsurprisingly, so with a big drag of air, he yelled into the establishment.

'Hey everyone! I'll just like to inform you that my date chickened out and it's no fun at all'

You try to push him harder to the counter, where the girl who served the ice cream was, but Jimin is heavy and taller than you, making the task complicated.

He continues yelling, dragging everyone's attention to you, struggling to push a man to the exhibitor. You stop for a second the fighting to place your hand over his lips, hoping it would make him keep his mouth shut 'Jesus, Jimin, stop that, people are staring at us.’ He then continues to laugh loudly, making his eyes disappear for a couple of seconds.

'Come on, let's get you some ice-cream' he says giving up and walking slowly to the counter one more time.

You end up choosing normal flavors and while you left the ice cream shop you could swear that everyone looked at you with a bad face, we weren’t that noisy, were we?

‘Don’t worry about them, I guess they’ve never had fun before!’ Jimin screamed to then close the door behind him while rolling his eyes.

'You are quite shameless, aren't you?' you say looking at him funnily.

Jimin smiles and licks his cone. 'Come on, let's walk. The place is near here'

Ten minutes later and a couple of Jimin's bad jokes later, you walk by the Han river feeling the spring breeze and the humidity of the river on the skin when walking.

The conversation flows the same as the day before, Jimin is actually fun and is not afraid to express his jokes publicly even if it means getting a few looks from the people who walk near you in the same way.

While you're with Jimin, you try to remember Nayeon's advice and come up with a way to put it into practice, so you constantly move your hair from side to side when speaking.

Jimin noticed it. He had seen the same trick so many times, more than he can count with both hands, but he lets it go, for him it was a sign that his behavior was working to get you.

Leaning against the railing for a few minutes after you said you couldn't eat and walk at the same time, earning yourself a round of teasing from the boy, you feel his shoulder casually rub with yours as he slowly approaches his hand to yours. He is about to take it, but Nayeon screams in your consciousness and intelligently you change the cone of hand to prevent him from grabbing it.

'So...' you say to liven up the atmosphere a bit. 'Engineering major uh?'

Jimin leans against a single arm on the railing, putting his body in your direction, as well as his attention. 'Impressed?' he says with an air of greatness.

Something sparks inside you, with a need to lower it from the pedestal where he placed  himself without reason for a simple comment. So you say back 'Not actually.' the surprise is evident on Jimin's face, almost annoyed, but you find the way he reacts when you annoy him funny, so you continue, imitating his posture. 'I'm impressed that you haven't quit yet, tho.'

'Oh so you're saying I'm dumb?' he says with a pout, putting his index finger directly to his chest.

You frown and smile 'I never said that, Jimin. I just think it's funny that you have time to party with such a complicated major.'

'Proof that you can find time to have fun' he answered.

'Why did you choose that major?' you ask curious. Jimin shrugs a little before answering. 'I like math and it's kinda cool, you know?'

The answer impresses you, Jimin doesn’t really look as the type of man who likes mathematics. 'You like math?' you say giggling 'Why do you like such a hard subject?'

The wind blows hard and a lock of hair flies between your face and your cone, preventing you from eating calmly, but you manage to push it away with your free hand before it touches the ice-cream and gets sticky.

Jimin hesitates before answering, because he has never actually discussed this with a girl. They usually only talk about them or try to find topics of conversation between silly fights they have had with their friends or the manicure and the time it takes to do them.

Sure, Jimin has talked about this with his friends, normally Taehyung and Jungkook are the ones who ask these questions or tease him about being a nerd, but never a girl.

'They just make sense to me...' he clears his throat and you notice a twinkle in his eyes before he starts to speak again 'Look it's like...you have this puzzle, right? But you have a missing piece. So, someone, comes in and tells you “here’s a way to get to the missing piece” and when you solve it and find the missing piece and everything fits, it's amazing. They are perfect, numbers are perfect.' you notice how Jimin moves his hands when speaking and you catch yourself smiling at the effusive way he explains something simple, showing how much he actually likes what he does, your smile gets bigger as the wind blows once more, even stronger than the last time, making your hair tangle and cloud your sight a little. Jimin is quick to act, so with one hand, he slowly puts the hair behind your ear, stroking gently your hair a few seconds after it's in place. 'They are perfect just like you.'

You blush at his words, tickles present in your stomach, not like butterflies, but more like ants in a run, trying to find a place to hide when it rains. Jimin notices how the cone trembles in your hand making him smirk, you realize you are not so immune to his charms as you thought. Then, with a vow of courage and a smile as bright as diamonds, he takes a step forward, shortening the distance between your lips and his.

But Nayeon jumps back into your head "Don't let him kiss you just yet" so you take a small step back, smashing what was left of your cone right in his face.

You start to laugh at the Jimin’s new face covered in ice cream, it was priceless, but when you notice he wasn’t laughing with you, you stop. After a few seconds he laughs throwing himself at you, seeking revenge and trying to get rid of the mess you've left on his face.

He gets a little of ice cream on your nose before you stop him to help cleaning his face,  running the napkin over his cheek and chin while he looks at you carefully, when you get close to his mouth he feels shivers down his spine, you didn't seem to notice it and he was grateful for it.

'Why did you do that?' he says between giggles. You keep laughing, searching for a better reason than “My friend told me not to."

'You were being boring.' you say as you crunch your nose a little.

'You were the one asking boring questions in the first place!’ He responds trying to sound awfully mad but failing, betrayed by his laugh.

‘Well I am getting bored, let's do something else!' you attack, finishing to swipe the remains of ice cream, now you feel your fingers sticky but you believe it was wroth it, after all, you avoided Jimin's kiss like the plague and got something to laugh about, something you hadn’t done in a  long time. At least not with anyone other than Nayeon.

‘When you said “let’s do something else”, I didn’t think you would choose a bar.’  

After the ice cream fight, you decided to change the date a little, you headed Jimin straight to Itaewon where bars abounded, you had already shown a sweet side, now you wanted to show him your rough side.

‘I come often to this bar with my friend Nayeon, I like it because they have pool tables, good music and great alcohol.’ you explained as you took a seat at one of the empty tables close to the door.

‘You really don’t look like a girl who go to bars.’

‘Is this like our thing?’ You asked taking off the denim jacket. Jimin looks at you with confusion so you continue ‘I mean, assuming things about each other.’

‘Well what do you assume of me?’ Asks him while going through the menu.

‘Well, you look like a guy who can’t commit to a relationship.’ Jimin quickly looks at you trying to figure out if you were joking. You weren’t, but you liked to make him feel nervous and uneasy, it made you feel in control. ‘I’m joking,’ he laughs a little not being so sure ‘But you do look like a guy who has a lot of secrets, am I right?’

‘Not really, I think I’m an open book, you know…easy to read and all that philosophical shit.’ You two laugh at his words. ’When I said that you didn’t look like a girl who go to bar I was thinking about you not liking parties. And I know this is not a party, but it looks like it happens from time to time.’ Jimin turns his head around the place looking at everyone.

‘It’s different, I can’t explain how, but just trust me, it’s different.’ You say, defending yourself against Jimin’s mention of you not being a party girl.

The night flows good, Jimin orders some beers and you order some shots here and there, mostly for you because Jimin says he has to drive, and you are more than okay with that, you don’t really want to die at such young age.

After a couple of drinks you felt more relaxed. Thank you alcohol. That same chill vibe coming from the shots makes you feel active, wanting to do something else than just talking to the handsome guy that it’s sitting right in front of you. With your arm resting in the table and your chin in your hand, you speak ‘Do you know how to play pool?’

Jimin looks thru his glass, seeing your pretty smile from the amber liquid he’s drinking product of his second beer of the night, sticking to his promise of staying sober. He nods, looking at the tables and paying attention to the ‘pop’ sound off the balls colliding one with the other.

‘We should play pool then, are you down?’ You ask with a big smile letting Jimin know you were still okay, he had started to worry about having to take you out of the bar carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

‘Sure, the winner chooses the next date.’ Jimin smiles and stands with no hesitation, waiting for you to  do the same.

‘So you really think there will be another date after this one? You are a very confident man Park Jimin.’ You say standing up and pocking his chest with your index finger after every word, you wobble a little and Jimin holds you making you both get way too close, you could feel his breath on your head and your eyes couldn't help but look up to his lips.

Maybe it’s the alcohol clouding your thoughts and shutting up Nayeon’s little voice in your head, because for a second you really think about kissing him, thinking that perhaps this was the only moment where you could do it without regretting it because if it wasn’t good or if he rejected, you could blame it on the booze and then move on, but when you were about to go in for it, Jimin pushes you away a little without being abrupt, to separate you from him.

‘Look there’s a free table over there.’ He says grabbing you by the arm and pulling you to the pool table that was available a few feet from you, trying to get there before anyone else.

You grabbed a cue stick and so does Jimin, you break, making one of the solid balls enter one of the holes in the table. ‘I guess you are strips.’ a wink escapes from you.

‘Is it here when I find out you are actually a professional pool player?’ Jimin asks as he sees you settling into a new position to finally shove another of your balls into a hole.

‘I’m not a professional but I’m good at it.’ Another ball goes in.

‘Are you even gonna let me play?’ He laughs without taking his gaze off your concentration face, he’s actually really impressed by the fact that even when you were a little drunk you managed to focused on the target, striking perfect points as you get the balls in its place.

‘I hope so, sometimes I’m on a streak and it’s hard to know when the other player would play.’ Jimin stands next to you and just when you are about to hit the cue ball, he hits you with his hip making you fail the shot.

‘Hey! That’s cheating!’ You laugh, hand on your hip while you laugh a little, with the stick in your left hand.

‘What are you talking about, I just tripped.’ Jimin tries to play it cool but he looks like a little kid, you laugh even harder when after his attempt of making you loose, he make the cue ball go in one of the holes.

‘You made me lose so you could just play that awfully?’

‘The stick slipped from my finger.’ He frowns and pouts.

‘Excuses, excuses. Let the big girls play.’ You take the cue ball out of the hole and position it in a way that is favorable to you, bending over to the pool table.

When you were about to hit the ball you feel how something, or rather someone, brushes slightly his hand over your butt, touching it almost as not wanting to, you believe that maybe they were trying to go unnoticed. You snap, getting in to a straight position due to the touch you did not consent.

‘Why did you touch me you piece of shit?!’ You scream with your face turned bright red due to your anger, turning around to face the person, it was just one of those kind of  macho greasy dudes who were too drunk to function.

‘Excuse me? What did you just called me?’ He looked at you with disdain.

‘You heard me loud and clear, pig.’ You spit your words without stopping to look him in the eye for a second, firm and alert position, he was not going to get away with this.

‘Hey man...’ he says looking at Jimin as he speaks. ‘Is this bitch here with you? You should control her, she’s drunk and crazy.’

‘She wouldn’t be angry if you hadn’t touch her.’ Jimin steps forward, putting you behind him while getting closer, face to face with the guy with anger in his voice.

‘Nobody touched her, it’s just her imagination. Didn’t you heard me? She’s drunk’ the guy looks so confident in his words, you almost feel intimidated. Almost. ‘Just look at her, why would someone want to touch her?’ he looks at you head to toe with disgust ‘I guess you are really needy to be fucking with that.’ Those were his last words before Jimin's fist hit his face, making him fall to the ground.

Blood boils inside Jimin's veins due the comment of the guy 'Look, I'm not really looking for a fight but you're screaming for one right now. So I'll give you exactly 30 seconds to apologize to her if you don't want to end up in the fucking hospital, my friend' Jimin squats down to look at the guy in the eyes, feeling a bunch of looks and people staring at him, someone takes a step forward, maybe a friend of the guy he just hit ready to step in for his friend, but before anything else happened and as Jimin starts to get back up, the guy grabs him by the neck of his shirt, putting him under his body and starting to drop punches.

You see them switch places on the floor a couple of times, fists crashing against each other faces, you try to make your voice louder enough to break through the sounds of the bar, you don't know what else to do to get Jimin to stop punching the guy. The situation escalated quickly from the moment you opened your mouth, you didn't want this to happen and you were hoping someone would step in and separate them but they were busy watching the show.

Gladly, one of the bartenders and some other worker, came and step in between the fight, lifting Jimin from the guy who was now on the floor, no longer fighting back. Jimin it's trying to calm down, breathing heavily while you come near him, taking a closer look at the damage on his face. 'Grab your stuff, let's go. That will teach him not to mess with girls for a long time' His face is red, product of  the rush of blood, with a deep frown and a split lip that he cleans with the back of his hand.

‘Come on, sit right here.’ You point at the little stair outside your place, getting in to your apartment to look for the first aid kit to clean Jimin’s wounds, that was the least you could do for him. ‘I’m so sorry our date had to end like this, I feel terrible, I should have stayed quiet.’ You said as you came back taking a seat next to him, he looked at every movement you made while taking out the things you’ll need from the little white box.

‘You’re kidding? A woman who stands for herself is awesome. I’m sure that if I didn’t hit him, you would have done it.’ You finally let a little laugh after everything that happened.

‘I guess so…’ your eyes meet for a couple seconds and before anything else happened, you look away ‘This may sting, but it's only for a second. Here I go.’

He nods, but when the cotton soaked in alcohol touched his wounds, he tried to hold back a scream to not disturb the neighbors or scare you, avoiding making you feel worst than you already have.

‘Where did you learn to fight either way?’ You asked, tapping slightly the cotton on his lip cut.

‘When I moved here I had to change, so I could adapt better to this city, just like you. I guess you didn’t arrive speaking fluent Korean, right?’ He laughs to then close the eyes due to the alcohol stinging.

‘That’s true, I just knew the basics.’ You put on an ointment on his wounds before putting everything back in the box. ‘You are good to go.’ You said standing up and shaking the dirt from the back of your pants. 'Thank you, Jimin. For defending me back there, even if didn't go that well for you'

'You don't need to thank me, it was the right thing to do.' he says relaxed. 'Don't worry about this, I've had worst.' he points at his fresh wound. ‘Despite everything I had a great time.' he scratches de back of his neck.

You hug yourself in nervousness and smile back at him 'Yeah... me too' You look at each other, not really knowing what was next, the air starts to blow once again, making the weather a little bit cold.

‘I’ll better get going.’ Jimin says putting his hands inside his pants pockets looking up to the starry night, he walks down to his motorcycle and just when you open the door to go inside he turns to just tell you he will text you next time before arriving without any notice.

You let out a little laugh, only nodding and telling him to text you as well once he's safe and sound back at his apartment. 'Goodbye, gorgeous.' he says gently.

You don't close the door until he waves goodbye at you before he starts the engine and you see him leave. Once you see him disappear into the night you close the door and lay your back on it, just thinking how great the night had gone.

<--PART 2