#sorry if its cringe and too short i wrote it late at night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solarwonux · 3 years

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Epitaph || Kim Taehyung (1/?)

pairing: Taehyung x f!reader || roommates!au

w.c: 9.8k (it was supposed to be short, I’m sorry)

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, co-parenting!au, fwb!au, non idol!au

Warnings: semi-edited :( slow burn, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of insecurities taeyhung is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses) Also I don’t apologize for the one pun I made. It made me cackle when I wrote it so it stays.

Synopsis: In memory of the man Kim Taehyung used to be. Caught up and lost in a continuous cycle searching for something that was already there.

Reeling you into a mess that you never asked for because all you wanted was to feel complete and happy

a/n: I’m gonna be honest I was scared of posting this bc lately I have been super insecure about my writing in general. But anyway, I decided to bite the bullet and just go for it. I’m opening a taglist for this so if you’re interested and want to be added send me an ask. Anyway, please lmk your thoughts and I hope you enjoy.xx

m.list || series m.list

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Namjoon is nice.

Despite the cold indifference on his face, his heart was made out of pure gold. It was proven time and time again like an old science experiment no one could let go of. He was always there for his friends, putting their needs before his own. He took Hoseok in when his parents kicked him out for pursuing a career in dance. He patiently sat and explained organic chemistry to you after you cried on his and Hoseok’s couch because you were failing the class. When his twin girls were born - Areum and Ara - he wept like a child promising the entire world to them.

He’s nice and doesn’t know any better and you can’t blame him for continuing to invite Taehyung and Eunbi to his bi-weekly barbecue's. Taehyung was his friend too. The same one that he dropped everything for ten years ago when he got the call from the hospital. You didn’t know him then but from the bits and pieces you were told, it was a hit and run, leaving Taehyung in a critical condition. His life was hanging from a thin line before he miraculously pulled through after three weeks of being on life support.

Hoseok and Namjoon stayed by his side the entire time.

Hoseok says it’s the guilt that would eat Namjoon up if he doesn’t invite Taehyung. Despite not being a fan of everything he’s put you through; Namjoon can’t seem to cut his oldest friend off. You can’t blame him, you wouldn’t want him to either. He didn’t understand the severity of the situation because just like how you knew bits and pieces from Taehyung’s accident. Namjoon only knew the bits and pieces of what happened that night and you wanted to keep it that way.

Taehyung deserved a friend that he still could turn to when he found himself wandering through the darkest corners of his mind. You had lived with him for four years before things got messy. You witnessed firsthand how scary it got for him, but nothing you ever did, helped in putting him at ease.

Nothing ever will.

“You’re thinking again.” Hoseok flicks your forehead lightly before sitting down next to you, handing you a margarita. “Pretend they’re not here.” He subtly gestures with his glass to the couple giggling in the pool. Swimming and pretending like they weren’t the reason for your lack of sleep these past two days.

You scoff, tracing the salt ring with your index finger. “Kind of hard to do when they’re right there being all perfect and shit.” You take a sip from your drink, grimacing as the tequila burns its way down your throat. “Who made this?” You raise a brow turning to face him.

“Jiwoo.” He shrugs taking a sip, cringing at the taste before putting his glass down on the poolside table. You make a sound of acknowledgment shaking your head. Leave it to Namjoon’s wife to make a margarita consisting of just tequila and a tablespoon of mixer.

Her signature drink - Jiwoo’s Hangover Inducing Nightmare - Namjoon had named it after a particular night when she got too drunk and spent the entire night on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet. Even then, annoyed, he took care of her like she was a rose. Afraid that any wrong move will make her wither in his arms.

It ached to watch, and maybe it had to do with the jealousy brewing deep within you and the three glasses you had had that night. You longed for a love like Namjoon and Jiwoo’s, so perfect despite its imperfections. It was a love you once thought you could have. Only for it to backfire on you. Stuck watching the person you once loved, hold someone else that wasn’t you. Someone that you could never be because you didn’t have a flat stomach without stretch marks and a c-section scar. You didn’t have a laugh that chimed like church bells. You didn’t have hair luxurious black hair, a perfect nose, and clear skin. And a job you loved.

Eunbi was perfect, and not you.

“Hey,” Yoongi taps the toe of his shoe against your shin retrieving you from your thoughts. “Hobi says you’re thinking too much.” He crouches down, putting his hands on top of your knees. “We can leave if you want. You don’t have to stay the entire time Joon will understand.” He turns to face his husband, silently asking for his input. Their secret language. One you can never begin to understand.

Hoseok nods, snaking his arm around your shoulder kissing your temple. “I’m proud of you for coming, but if it’s too much we can take you home and have a movie night with Hyeon.” He whispers, running his fingers down your arm. Trying his best to comfort you.

You sigh, Hyeon giggle as he runs around with Ara and Areum. The sound drowns out the smooth rnb playlist Namjoon had put on shuffle and the beating of your heart.

It was tempting. To go back the way you came this time with Hyeon holding onto your hand tightly, pouting. He loved Namjoon’s bi-weekly barbecue's, looked forward to them. He would talk non-stop about all the games he and the twins would play in the pool. The game of tag they would play with the sprinklers on. Rave about the water balloon fight that even the adults participated in. The competition, a way to determine who got to wash the dishes.

You couldn’t ruin that for him. End his excitement early because you weren’t feeling well.

“It’s okay, I just need one of Jin’s cupcakes and I’ll be fine.” You took another sip of your drink, scrunching your eyebrows, remembering why you decided not to drink it in the first place.

“Alright, but if at any point, he crosses the line. Give us the emergency signal and we’ll bounce.” Hoseok reassures you and stands up taking your drink from your hand. “I’ll get you some lemonade, Yoongs will get you the cupcake, Jin had him hide them when he arrived.”

You smile and nod. You didn’t have an emergency signal, but that didn’t matter. Yoongi and Hoseok always seemed to know when Taehyung crossed the line.

It was like clockwork. A routine everyone seemed to have down to a t which is why everyone tried to enjoy the day as much as they could before all hell broke loose.

This time though you were determined to not let him get to you. He had already taken ownership of your entire weekend the second you read the court letter. But no one else knew about the baseless threat, except for Yoongi and Hoseok.

You were adamant to keep it that way.

“I don’t like her.” Jiwoo says. Her head resting on top of your shoulder. “There’s something about her I don’t like.”

Humming you lick the hot pink frosting from your finger. “You say that about all of Taehyung’s love affairs.” You say, offering her your cupcake.

She dips her finger into the icing scooping up a decent amount. “It’s true, he has terrible taste in women. They all seem decent at first, pretend to care and then they do something that ruins it all.” She states, licking the frosting of her finger. “Except for you, you’re the best. But you do have your moments too.” She clicks her tongue, giving you a playful wink.

You gasp in mock shock, putting a hand over your chest. “I am honored...I think.” You laugh, dipping your finger into the cupcake icing. This is why Jin always hid them before dinner. You and Jiwoo always found them and ate the icing of most of them.

“Do you think she will make it past this month?” Jiwoo cocks her head to the side. “Joon and Jin are convinced that she’ll make it to the end of the fourth month.” She furrows her brows deep in thought, probably recalling the bet all your friends made the second Taehyung introduced his new fling. You never contributed but did keep count.

They were ruthless and so far Yoongi was in the lead.

“I think she’ll make it to the end of next week.” She finishes, playing with the baking paper of the cupcake before looking over at you. Obviously curious about your thoughts.

You shake your head, and bring your knee up, wrapping your arms around your leg. “Jiwoo we’ve been over this. I stopped carrying about Taehyung and his love affairs years ago.” You look at her, taking in the slight pout forming on her lips. “As long as he doesn’t leave Hyeon behind, he can do whatever and whoever he wants.”

Jiwoo, clearly disappointed that you won’t shit talk Taehyung with anyone, frowns. “What about you?” She finishes unwrapping the cupcake and hands it over to you. “Doesn’t it hurt you seeing him with someone else?” She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand, looking around like she just said something scandalous.

She did. No matter how many times you reassure all your friends that you were okay. They don’t seem to be able to let your heartbreak go.

Really, you’re fine.

“I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself to you and Hobi - ” You pause bringing your cupcake up to her lips. Giggling she takes an obnoxiously huge bite, nodding for you to keep going. “- he isn’t the same Taehyung I fell in love with so no I don’t care. Seeing him with someone else doesn’t hurt anymore.” You say, firmly, retreating your gaze from her, shoving the rest of the cupcake in your mouth.

Maybe you were lying. There were days when seeing Taehyung with someone new hurt because you always found yourself comparing your imperfections to them. But other days, it was fine because even though they had Taehyung you had Hyeon and that was more than you could ever ask for.

Jiwoo hums obviously seeing right through but she doesn’t voice it. Aware that if she did the two of you would end up in denial city and that was a place where you just ran in circles until finally you broke down. But you looked happy today, at ease for the most part and she wanted to keep it that way.

So instead she chews soundlessly, squinting, resembling her youngest twin Areum whenever she didn’t believe something someone said. A thought you can’t express out loud especially to the little five year old teenager both Namjoon and Jiwoo were raising. She hated being compared to her parents. She hated being compared to anyone for that matter. The one time Yoongi did it, accidentally, might you had. She dramatically stomped her foot on the ground before running all the way up to the room she shared with her sister and slammed the door. Exclaiming loudly that she was her own person and not Namjoon, or Jiwoo, or Ara and that she now hated Uncle Yoongi.

They were still repairing their relationship.

“Then why don’t you date?” Jiwoo, exasperated looks at you pleading.

You roll your eyes knowing this was coming. Could’ve seen it from a mile-a- away if you weren’t so focused on the delicious cupcake you were savoring.

For years, Hoseok and Jiwoo have tried to get you to date again. They didn’t seem to understand that you weren’t by yourself or in your early twenties anymore. That you had a kid and nearing thirty and no one wanted to date a mom. No one wanted the responsibility of taking care of another man’s son.

It sucked because for men having a kid was the total opposite. Hence why Taehyung had no problem picking up a new step-mommy every few months.

“Jiwoo,” You sigh, wishing you still had the cupcake to rely on but that had been the only one Yoongi allowed you to eat before dinner. “I’m a mom, between work and Hyeon I don’t have time to date.” Jiwoo opens her mouth to retaliate but you raise your hand to stop her, making her close her mouth immediately.

“I don’t care what you and Hobi say. Men don’t want to date moms. They want to fuck moms and not be responsible for what actually makes them a mom. I don’t want to bring someone into Hyeon’s life without knowing for sure that they’ll stay...Plus -” You pause chewing on your bottom lip. “ - I’m not Taehyung. I’m pretty sure my libido has been fucked since before Hyeon was born.” You whisper like it’s the most embarrassing confession you had to admit every week at Sunday School.

She bites her lip to keep herself from laughing, clearing her throat when she takes in your infamous glare. “That’s not true. I know plenty of men who wouldn’t mind dating hot moms like you.” She winks, wiping the cupcake crumbs on the side of your mouth with her thumb.

You grumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest like a kid. “Oh yeah, who?” You pout making her roll her eyes at your antics.

“Jun-”

“Hana, Bam wait for me.”

Jiwoo stops, her ears perk up and her eyes grow big in size with excitement, forgetting whatever or whoever she was going to say. She turns her head and squeals. Like literally squeals as her eyes land upon the man who just walked in through the gates of her backyard with a child and a dog the size of a horse.

“Kookie!” She yells, before standing up and running over to him.

He’s struggling, trailing behind the little girl wearing an Elsa costume, while being dragged by the dog, mumbling incoherently, clearly unaware that his presence had been found out. His struggle only gets worse when the bag that he had resting on his shoulder, slides down his forearm, cutting his circulation.

Yikes and you thought you were a hot mess.

“Jeon Jungkook!” Jiwoo yells again, the sound of his full name making a few heads turn towards the commotion. He groans in annoyance as Jiwoo laughs at his misery before hugging him tightly. “You came, you came, you really came.” She says, while bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Hey Kook.” Namjoon yells from the grill, saluting him before shaking his head chuckling, earning a few questionable looks from both Yoongi and Hoseok that were keeping him company. Or babysitting him. In case he burns something down again.

Jungkook returns the gesture as best as he can, given the unpleasant situation he was in. Then he feels one more hard tug on the leash he was trying to hold, and decides he’s had enough. “Can I put all my shit down?” He pulls away from Jiwoo, tripping on his own feet when Bam tugs on his leash again. “Bam sit, Hana don’t move.” The sternness on his voice makes both Jiwoo and the toddler laugh. Hard.

“I miss when you weren’t grumpy all the time.” She smiles taking the bag from his arm, keeping it from falling off, and looks at the little girl patiently waiting next to the dog. “Hana, I promise your dad used to be the life of the party.” She winks holding her hand out for her to take.

Hana gasps in disbelief, her face traveling between her dad and Jiwoo as she places her tiny hand in hers. “No way, he’s boring.” She exclaims, causing Jiwoo to laugh and Jungkook to roll his eyes.

He already regrets coming.

“Come on I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Jungkook makes a noise of acknowledgement, following the overly excited women as she makes her way through her backyard. The last time he was here - two years ago for Christmas dinner with his parents - the pool was not finished. Jiwoo had been annoyed the entire night.

Now the pool was done. The dead patch of grass that had Namjoon in distress was thriving. There was a patio just for grilling, with a brick oven. Fairy lights lined the fences and through the middle of the yard. Pistachio green pool chairs surrounded the pool. Clearly, things had changed in the last two years he was there.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Client canceled, Jimin’s out of town. So I just decided to close the shop and come.” Jungkook shrugs like it wasn’t a big deal when to Jiwoo it was. She had been trying to get her brother to come over ever since he moved back to the city months ago. Saddened whenever he used the I’m still settling down excuse that he so obviously exhausted.

He had no other option but to come.

Jiwoo smiles. “I’m glad you came, even if it wasn’t your first choice.” She stops walking once she reaches the pool. “That’s Jin.” She points to the man in the pool with pool goggles that were obviously too small for his face. “Jin this is Jungkook.” She says, waving her hands in the air to grab his attention.

Jin looks over and waves. “Nice to meet you Jungkook, Namjoon’s always talking my ear off at the office about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name.” He gives Jungkook a thumbs up, before bringing his hands down, making a small splash. “I’d come out to give you a hug but Areum and Ara are in a cutthroat competition right now.” He points towards the swimming twins, each determined to win.

Jiwoo turns to Jungkook. “He’s Joon’s co-worker and oddly good at baking.” She shrugs and continues walking.

Hana looks over at Jungkook, eyes bright. He curses mentally because he knows whats coming next. “Daddy can I go in the pool?” There it was, the cute innocent voice he literally can’t say no too.

“Later, I promise sweetheart.” He cringes, expecting a protest from her but it doesn’t come because she immediately sees Namjoon. The love of her life and forgets about Jungkook, Jiwoo, Bam and the pool, and wraps her arms around his legs.

Jungkook scoffs. His brother in law is not even all that.

Jiwoo doesn’t mind though, obviously not jealous that the four year old has had a huge crush on her man since she was born and turns to face the other men that were with Namjoon. “This is Yoongi and Hobi.” She points to them and then to Jungkook. “Hobi, Yoongs this is Jungkook, Hana and Bam.” Jiwoo introduces.

Hoseok untangles from the other man. His eyes light up immediately, almost as if he was finally putting the pieces together.

“This is Jungkook the one you’ve been try to se-”

Whatever Hoseok was going to say, he doesn’t find out because Jiwoo launches herself to the taller man, putting both of her hands over his mouth, muffling the end of his sentence.

“Don’t listen to Hobi he’s on his second margarita that I made.” She emphasizes like it was supposed to mean something. And Jungkook supposes it does because it earns an eye roll from the silent, grumpy looking man.

Suddenly he doesn’t want to know the ending of Hoseok’s sentence, because if it was Jiwoo’s doing then it couldn’t have been good anyway. So he settles, in the awkward tension until Namjoon finally speaks up after prying the love struck four year old from his legs.

“Kook, Hoseok used to be my roommate before he secretly started dating Yoongi behind my back.” He jokes pointing the metal prongs between them.

Yoongi pushes himself away from the brick counter offering his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook takes it, shaking it firmly, ignoring the hushed bickering going on between Hoseok and Jiwoo behind him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, say hi Hana.” Jungkook waves shyly, looking down at the little girl that had managed to make her way behind his legs. She wasn’t usually so shy. Only when things got overwhelming for her. And this moment was definitely one of them.

Hana wasn’t used to meeting and being around so many people. For three years it was just Jungkook and her. For a year it was just her, Jungkook and his mom after he moved back home to be with her after his dad died. And for the last couple of months, when he moved back to the city so Hana could go to a good school. It had just been her and Jungkook with Bam added into the mix.

Her social battery was still developing causing her to get overwhelmed easily. Even if he tried his hardest to be patient and reassure her that everything would be fine at the end of the day.

It was still a work in progress.

Yoongi grins and crouches down holding his hand out to her. “I’m Yoongi but you can call me Yoongs. What’s your name?” He tilts his head with curiosity, despite already knowing her name.

Shyly, Hana sticks out her hand and shakes his gently. “I’m Jeon Hana.” She says, a light blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks.

Yoongi nods, “It’s nice to meet you Jeon Hana. If you find me later I can tell you where the hidden stash of cupcakes are but you have to keep it a secret.” He smiles, sealing his lips with an invisible zipper. The little girl nods, copying his movements and Yoongi ruffles her hair making her giggle, before looking at the older man with a dreamy smile.

Looks like Namjoon was officially out of the picture.

He stands up feeling triumphant, stumbling to the side after being encased by his husbands arms. “He keeps saying he doesn’t want kids, but I think otherwise.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes in fake annoyance, “babysitting Hyeon, Areum and Ara is enough for me.” He says, causing Hoseok to roll his eyes.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you Kook. I like you a lot already.” Hoseok winks at Jiwoo, earning one of her famous looks that could murder someone. Jungkook should know, growing up he had been at the receiving end of 99.99% of them. Especially when she entered her rebellious teenage stage, leaving Jungkook two more years to catch up.

“That’s enough, let’s go.” Jiwoo grabs both Jungkook and Hana’s arms, dragging them away from Hoseok before he could say anything else.

“I don’t know where Taehyung and Eunbi went.” Jiwoo mutters looking around her backyard and shrugging like she could care less. “Eunbi is Taehyung’s fling of three months. It doesn’t really matter anyways. It’s too messy to explain.” She brushes it off walking straight to you, lounging on a pool chair with Hyeon lying on your chest.

The mention of your name from Jiwoo’s mouth takes you out of your daze. Your fingers playing with Hyeon’s hair come to a halt as you look over at the culprits that disturbed your peace.

They both stop in front of you, her arm around his waist pulling him closer. “This is my brother Jungkook, his daughter Hana and puppy Bam.” She motions with her hand, perking Hyeon’s interest. Sleep gone when he sits up with a wide smile,

“Hana you know aunt Jiwoo?” He says tilting his head and then turning to face you. “Mama this Hana my best friend, she sits next to me in class.” Hyeon says, squishing your cheeks before getting off your lap and standing next to the little girl. Leaving absolutely no room for you to protest or acknowledge the situation.

Hana hugs the boy, bouncing on her toes making Hyeon giggle. Immediately Jungkook’s face hardens, obviously getting into protective dad mode. But when Hana pulls away and looks at him with those big round eyes that are his kryptonite he immediately settles down, putting away his defense mechanism.

There was nothing he needed to worry about. He thinks.

“Daddy, Hyeonie always shares his crayons with me.” The little girl grins before grabbing onto the boys hand, “Can I go play now?” She pouts, batting her eyelashes.

Jungkook sighs and nods, “Don’t run around the pool or you’ll get hurt.”

“We won’t.” She jumps in glee before tugging on Hyeon’s hand and walking towards Yoongi. Her new boyfriend that promised to tell her where the secret magical cupcakes where. You think you hear her say.

Before you can stand up and call out towards your son, just to let him know that he needs to be careful and that he can’t have sweets before dinner. (A rule you’ve already broken.) Jiwoo claps her hands and sits next to you. “That was easy.” She wraps her arms around you, bringing you close. “Who knew your kids were already friends.” She smiles with mischief and taps your nose with your finger.

“Hyeon has been talking about Hana since the first day of school. He wanted to invite her over but I got caught up with work and Taehyung always has to make things difficult so I just forgot.” You say, putting your head against her shoulder.

Jiwoo gasps lowly before snapping her fingers and facing Jungkook, who was standing confused looking at you with something that could be mistaken for adoration. He just thought you were pretty, that’s all.

“Taehyung is Hyeon’s dad but don’t worry they’re not together. He’s dating Eunbi remember I told you?” Jiwoo explains, while you roll your eyes.

“Thank you for telling him my entire life story.” You sit up finally looking at the man in front of you, while simultaneously forgetting how to breathe.

He was absolutely breathtaking and the last time you were rendered this speechless was years ago when you first met Taehyung. He was only wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hair a dark wavy mess and you were absolutely floored. Enamored, tuning out whatever he was saying about his roommate backing out from the deal two days before moving into his new place. Angry that he had already put down the deposit and the payment for the first three months, thinking he’d get his roommates half on the day they moved in.

That was when you tuned in again. Well actually a little before when he said he needed a new roommate stat. Then you tuned out listing the pros and cons. Each one ending and starting with him so without hesitation you volunteered. It had made sense at the time. You were looking to move out of your apartment. Exhausted by the many conquests your roommate brought home and tired of crashing on Namjoon, and Hoseok’s couch whenever the water heater broke. (Which was more often than not.) But all attempts at finding a place on your own that was decent and fit your budget, were deemed as unsuccessful. So when Taehyung voiced his thoughts about needing a roommate you jumped at the opportunity.

Your first mistake.

Jiwoo pinches your side, annoyed, “I’m just keeping him in the loop.” She shrugs. “I don’t want him to be confused if the two of you start arguing and then Hobi jumps in to put in his two cents and then we have to separate the three of you.”

“Way to render me as unstable in front of your brother, which by the way I didn’t know you had.” You finish and face the man in question.

He was still standing there unsure of what to say or if he should move. This time you let your eyes wander, unapologetically. He looked like the poster boy for every one of your teenage girl dreams. He had an entire tattoo sleeve decorating his right arm. The corner of a chest piece peeking out of the collar of his black t-shirt. An eyebrow piercing and if that wasn’t enough to make your knees weak, the lip piercing definitely did. Then you swore you almost moaned when you took in his thighs so muscular and meaty making your mouth water. It only got worse when you spotted the ending of what could possibly be a flower tattoo hidden underneath his forest green swim trunks.

He was a walking sin and your son’s best friend’s father.

An absolute hazard.

“I’m her step brother.” He clears his throat, squatting down to pet his dog, who had taken it upon himself to lay down at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it. To busy drinking in his owner like a glass of champagne.

“The pragmatics aren’t important. You’re still my baby brother.” She coos leaning over to pinch his cheeks. But before she could grab a hold of them he gently swats her hand away. An embarrassing giggle escapes you, immediately turning his attention to you, shutting you up.

You bring a hand up to your mouth clearing your throat. “It’s nice meet you Jungkook. I’d properly introduce you to Hyeon but it seems like him and Hana found Jin’s cupcakes.” You point behind him, Hana chasing Hyeon with sparkly blue icing all around her mouth.

Jungkook moans in defeat. “If she doesn’t sleep tonight. I’m leaving her to you and Namjoon.” He glares at Jiwoo and then smiles at you. If your heart wasn’t slightly racing before. It sure as hell was now. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Jiwoo claps excitedly, bringing the two of you back to planet earth. “Namjoon’s calling me I’ll leave the two of you to talk. Don’t worry about the kids we have everything under control.” She stands up fast, a proud smile on her faces as he makes her way around Jungkook ruffling his hair and giving you a thumbs up. Jungkook is clearly confused, but you’re speechless again for an entire different reason.

You understand now. And your silent hypothesis was only proven correct when she ran straight to Hoseok and not Namjoon. You glared at them, made sure they knew that you knew what they intended to do. Hoping they could feel you ripping them apart slowly and painfully in your head. Your glare only deepened when they laugh sending you a thumbs up motioning crudely towards Jungkook.

He was oblivious to what his sister and your best friend were trying to do. Lost in his own little world petting his dog. He only remembered that you were still sitting in front of him when he heard your humorless laugh.

“They’re fucking umbelievable.” You mumble.

“What?” He tilts his head to the side, big eyes innocently and tenderly looking at you. You want to scream because how could someone you met literally minutes ago be so detrimental to your health.

It was devastating.

You brush it off. Push the warm thoughts you were having about Jungkook deep into the crevices of your mind. You didn’t have the privilege to fall for some again. Especially when your first love was in the vicinity with his current love. Especially when he had lured you into the messiest situation of your life. First giving you your entire world only to threaten to take it away for whatever fantasy he had conjured up.

You shake your head, “It’s nothing do you want a drink?”

“I’m driving but it’s still early so I can have one beer.” He nods, giving you another award winning smile sending your heart into a frenzy.

Suddenly Jiwoo’s Hangover Inducing Nightmare didn’t seem like the worst idea, because either way you’d end the night fucked.

Your heart wasn’t settling down anytime soon.

After coming back with your drinks you took the seat next to him on the patio couch. The dog he had with him - in which you later on learned was named Bam - was off running around Namjoon’s backyard.

The conversation flowed easily liked running water. You learned that his mother had been married to Jiwoo’s father ever since he was four. He majored in art history and got married to his long time girlfriend shortly after graduation. He didn’t utter a syllable of her name or said anything further than her being Hana’s mom. The pain shot through him like fireworks. It did every time he thought about her. You could sense the distress radiating off of him, avoiding your eyes and drawing mindless circles against the condensation of his beer bottle.

The last thing you wanted was to see him in pain so you changed the subject. Found out he recently moved back to the city after being away for almost two years. Left his job at a tiny start-up company, counted all his blessings and opened a tattoo studio with his best friend - Jimin.

It was weird.

It had taken Jimin almost five months of living with him back in college for him to hold a conversation with him. Nearly a year before he was comfortable enough to open up to him. But with you it only took him an hour to tell you everything. You didn’t push or pry. You just listened and he found himself wanting to tell you more.

In turn you did the same.

Told him how you moved to the city at eighteen chasing a dream you still hadn’t achieved yet. That you met Jiwoo and Hoseok in a jazz history class, and were stuck with one another for a group project, that Hoseok had skipped out on. Leaving you and Jiwoo to do all the work for him. (The easiest A he had ever received.) You told him how you introduce her sister to Namjoon. Boasted proudly at you how were the sole reason they were married, but not to ask them because they will deny it until their last breathe.

You told him about your freelance work as a writer and the pros and cons of being Hoseok’s assistant at the media company he owned. Joking how you fully new that if it wasn’t for nepotism you wouldn’t have gotten the job in the first place. He laughed; actually laughed at your joke and it made you sweat because Taehyung never did.

Jungkook listened closely, hung onto every single word that came out of your mouth while you told him about Hyeon. Left out everything that had to do with you and Taehyung. Simply stating that you weren’t together because it just didn’t work. He didn’t push you to go into further detail, just like you didn’t push him and you appreciated it.

You and Taehyung were a whole can of worms and you didn’t want to scare him off.

Talking to Jungkook was nice. A breath of fresh air. Simple. Like how it was with Taehyung before the waves crashed down and everything changed.

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“Nope, that’s a big commitment and I don’t think I am ready for that yet.” You shrug, putting your drink down. Jungkook had finished his beer halfway through your life story, and now he was just holding onto his bottle to keep his hands from shaking with the amount of nerves that were running haywire throughout his body.

He smiles down at his lap, biting his lip to keep his laugh from escaping. You notice squinting your eyes bumping your shoulder against his. “What?”

He shakes his head, setting his empty beer bottle next your your full margarita glass. “Nothing.” He toys with his lip ring, the action sends shivers up your spine. “It’s just that you have a kid and think tattoo’s are a huge commitment.” He chuckles, the sound making its way into your chest and settling down. “It’s cute.”

You slap his arm gently, fake hurt written all over your face. It only makes him laugh harder, earning a slightly annoyed sigh from you. “That’s different. A tattoo will live on my body forever. What if I get one and then don’t like it years later?”

“Then you either get it removed or cover it up with another.” He bumps his knee with yours. Making you realize how close the two of you were sitting.

Unaware of the many eyes that were looking over, already placing their bets. While one pair remained stoic, hands tight around the towel he was holding. The nasty green flowers that bloomed in his chest surfaced again. And this time he did very little to push them away.

“It’s not that simple.” You blow out a raspberry. The few sips you had taken of your drink finally settling down. Hence why everyone did everything in their power to avoid it. Well everyone except you, Jiwoo, and Hoseok. The three menaces to society that got drunk on sips rather than gulps.

“I like piercings better. The pain is over fast and they can be removed.” You say with your nose perched up. Jungkook is amused and sneakily (not so sneakily) he moves his arm to rest on the cushion behind your head, moving closer and turning his full body to face you.

“I refuse to believe you’ve gotten any piercings besides the standard earlobe ones.” He teases, obviously aware of the many earrings decorating your ears and the faint scar on the side of your nose, indicating that it was once home to a nose piercing. But he found out early in the night how much he liked to tease you. Loved the way you would get flustered and tried to hide it. It did wonders to his beating heart.

You gasp, arms crossed. “I’ll have you know Jeon Jungkook that I had my nipples pierced years ago.” You say smugly when you visibly see him struggle. Eyes the size of moons. His neck turning red.

He was not expecting that.

“Cat got your tongue?” You giggle patting his back. He really did try to regulate his breathing without you taking notice. But of course things never go his way because after taking one breathe in. His saliva ran down the wrong hole and he started choking.

So much for being smooth like butter.

You laughed and gently patted his back. Your touch sending sparks of electricity through him instantly. A feeling so foreign to him; a feeling he hadn’t felt in years that it sent a rush of panic through him. It settled in the deepest crevices of his body, familiarizing itself again.

Jeon Jungkook was royally fucked.

“S-Sorry.” He opens his mouth to breathe again. Coughing up the remnants of his embarrassment. You smile gently moving your hand back to your lap. He winces, already missing the warmth of your touch, but he holds himself back from reaching out to grab it again. To hold it close to him until the heaviness of your touch starts to feel like second skin.

Instead he scratches the back of his head, awkwardly. “Had?” He mumbles, eyes still wide. “If you don’t mine me asking what happened to them?” He finishes and seriously wants to punch himself multiple times as soon as the words are out in the open. Afraid that you might now view him as a pervert because he was totally not wondering what your boobs looked like underneath the dim light of his bedroom, decorated by two silver bar bells.

No, he wasn’t entertaining the idea. At least not anymore.

“I almost died.” You shrug nonchalantly. Like the vital piece of information was not throwing him off guard. He wasn’t the piercer in the duo; Jimin was. But he knew enough to know that piercings shouldn’t cause death’s or near death experiences.

He gapes at you as you stand up, holding your hands out for him to take. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been through worse.” You give him a reassuring smile, wiggling your fingers for him to take.

Jungkook does, still frozen in disbelief. Definitely resembling a deer caught in the headlights, until the realization that you’re holding his hands dawns over him like morning dew. “H-How, wait what?”

You giggle, letting go of his hands and patting his shoulder softly. “I’ll tell you the story some other time.”

“Why not now?” He whines, like Hana does when she doesn’t get what she wants. But his curiosity got the best of him and he realizes this because he clears his throat to speak again. “I mean...Cool yeah take your time.” He says with fake suaveness, but it has you desperately wanting to throw everything you have ever known out the window to hug him and never let go.

“It’s not a very fascinating story but I will tell you one day.”

Before he can say anything else Namjoon’s voice booms through the backyard calling everyone to eat. Perfect timing, but Jungkook doesn’t care. Because even though he is watching you happily walk away from him right now. You had said one day which implies that you’re not tired of him yet. Which means that you want to see him again. Jungkook hates that he feels like he’s fifteen again and confessing to Sol for the very first time in the corridor between the boy’s and girl’s bathrooms before homeroom.

He hates that he feels better than that moment too.

Dinner went by smoothly.

Jiwoo, thanks to her interior designer skills decorated the long wooden dinner table to the nines. Everyone was assigned a place. A cute little wooden board with the utmost perfect calligraphy of everyone's names on top of their designated plate. For the centerpieces, there were wreaths of baby breaths and purple chrysanthemums placed in the middle between every white candle that was lit up. The wax melted and staining the wood, which Namjoon would, later on, scrape off in annoyance.

The bi-weekly barbecue’s at the Kim’s were a festive event. No matter the date or season, the four of them went all out.

Of course, due to Hoseok and Jiwoo’s scheming, you were sat next to Jungkook. That earned an eye roll from you as you glared at the culprits who shied away from you giggling. Hyeon was sat next to you on your right and clung on to your hand making it impossible for you to eat comfortably. But you didn’t care, it made you feel all giddy inside. Hyeon couldn’t go long without being with you. Always finding a way to cling on to you for comfort and warmth. You almost wanted to laugh in both Eunbi and Taehyung’s faces. If they were really serious about taking you away from your son you were more than positive that Hyeon would grow up to resent Taehyung. Not so much Eunbi. She wouldn’t be staying for much longer anyway.

After dinner, Hyeon gave you a kiss on the cheek thanking you for cutting up his food before he Hana, Ara, and Areum ran towards the bucket of water balloons. You weren’t sure where the water fight after dinner stemmed from but it was a must. One year you had gone on strike to omit it completely (because you always ended up losing and it wasn’t fair) but of course, you lost, and the tradition stayed much to your disappointment.

You helped Jiwoo clean up, ignoring every comment she made about Jungkook, that was meant to impress you.

“He graduated with straight A’s”

“He volunteered at a homeless shelter every Christmas for five years.”

“He moved in with our mom after dad died.”

“He once drove five hours to the next town just to get this special blueberry donut Hana desperately wanted.”

When she got to the twentieth reason as to why you should date her brother and then marry him. You excused yourself to the bathroom for a breather. It wasn’t like you weren’t interested in Jungkook. You were very much in compliance with the idea of just pouncing his bones, but that was all due to sexual attraction. You didn’t know much about him except for what he had shared with you earlier. He didn’t wear his battle scars out in the open, even if you had caught onto the cloudiness behind his eyes a few times. You didn’t know if he was ready for another relationship, especially with someone who was already a mom.

Maybe he didn’t want another kid yet either?

He didn’t know your history and you were more than positive he didn’t want to get caught up in between all the drama that centered around you and Taehyung. He looked like the type of guy that wanted to live his life peacefully and drama-free. And your life was very much not that. Unfortunately.

Jungkook was nice, but the last time you dove into something headfirst fearlessly. You ended up in the middle of a never-ending storm. You didn’t want to get someone else caught up in it, especially someone like Jungkook.

You sigh, patting your face dry with one of the hand towels. Slightly proud of yourself that you had made it this far without arguing with Taehyung. Though he was the one that started most of the arguments, somehow the blame would always be shifted on to you. Because you were angry, overly emotional, and hurt. Or whatever other reason Taehyung always threw at you.

You shake your head, the motion sending the thought of him to the depths of your brain. He didn’t matter. You’ve had a great day and night so far, and you were determined to get through the next hour with your head held high. A slight bubble of excitement forms in the pit of your stomach. Taehyung had done everything in his power to avoid you today, and chances were he was going to avoid you for the next hour. For once you might be going home from one of Namjoon’s bi-weekly barbecue’s feeling at peace.

For the most part.

The reality of your situation was still burning brightly in the forefront of your mind. But if Taehyung could ignore it, pretend like everything was okay. So you could you. He always grumbled about how much stronger you were than him. It’s time for you to live up to that perception because he wasn’t going to tear you down.

At least that’s what you had hoped because the second you opened the door to the bathroom you were met with Kim Taehyung’s icy stare. The one he reserved for you. It was belittling and frustrating all at once because for four years - almost five - you still didn’t know what you did in order to earn it.

His lip was in between his teeth, arms crossed in front of him. His hair was messy with the drying remnants of the pool water. His shirt was thrown on haphazardly and the bright yellow shorts clung onto him like he had gone days without eating. The thought crushing your heart, knowing he only stopped eating when he was wallowing deep in the dark spaces of his head. If that wasn’t enough proof that he wasn’t doing well, the eye bags that matched yours were a dead giveaway.

It was getting too much. You were starting to care again and he didn’t deserve your care in the slightest. But he was blocking your way. You could see the ark that signaled the end of the dark hallway illuminating brightly behind him. Your exit was so close, but still so far away. Fifteen steps to be exact. But you needed to get away, and you almost did. At least you made the attempt. Took one step to the right before he was pushing you into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, trapping you in between his body and the sink.

“What are you do-”

“Are you going to fuck him?” He spits out. The venom laced in his voice was so prominent you felt the after-effects deep in your body.

You gape at him, blinking slowly, registering his words before you feel the anger rise inside of you. How dare he? “What the fuck Taehyung, let me go.” You place your hands on his chest to push him off, but of course, despite his fragile state he was still stronger than you. Of course, you could feel the his muscles underneath your palms and of course, he wasn’t going to let you go until he got his answer.

That’s who Taehyung was. Strong and persistent. Like a pesky weed that always grew back no matter how many times you tried to pluck it.

He grips the counter behind you, jaw locked so hard that the pressure threatens to shatter it. “Are you going to fuck him?” He asks again, the fire behind his eyes melting the ice and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve seen Taehyung angry before. You’ve been at the receiving end of many of his temper tantrums. But you’ve never seen him angry like this. Like someone just took something that was his and he wants it back. That sends a flare of anger through you because how dare he?

“No,” You reply pushing at his chest again, hoping this time he gets the idea. “But even if I was why do you care?” His eyes go wide and he finally lets go. He moves away creating the distance the two of you needed, turning to face away from you. He’s caught and he knows that he’s caught but he won’t admit it.

Stubborn as always.

“I don’t.” He mumbles running a hand through his hair tugging at the roots, mentally screaming at himself for being so careless. “Just don’t want the mother of my child, fucking around like she’s some common whore.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His face shifts in-between emotions until it settles in nonchalance. Like what he just said didn’t stab you in the heart multiple times.

You grip the bottom of your sundress, breath stuck in the back of your throat as the tears pool up in the corner of your eyes. Not because you were hurt - that part will come later - but right now you’re so angry you want to bite his head off. “Fuck you Taehyung.” You’re seething, blinded by rage searching for anything to hold on to. Anything that will hurt him the same way he’s hurt you because he deserves worse.

“In the four years that I’ve been a mother I’m interested in one guy and that automatically makes me a whore?” You push yourself off the counter and close the distance between the two of you. “You fuck someone new every few months, and have been doing that even before Hyeon was born. But I’m the whore?” You jab your finger in his chest hard, cringing at how it sends a jab of pain through your hand but you choose to ignore it. You had more pressing matters at hand.

“The girl you’re fucking now wants me out of the picture because Hyeon refuses to call her mom that now she’s convinced you that I’m unfit to be a mom. When you and I and everyone in this fucking house knows that she won’t be around for much longer.” You scoff shaking your head, poking your cheek with your tongue. “But I’m interested in one guy and I’m the fucking whore.” You shake your head and step back. “You’re unbelievable Taehyung almost had me convinced for a few weeks that you were decent but you haven’t changed you’re still the same insecure man I slept with all those years ago.” You run your hands through your hair, tugging at the roots, your chest heaving to the same rhythm as his.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, stares at you with the same teary gaze he gave you when he apologized for not being there for you during your labor. You forgave him then, but you were done forgiving him. He never deserved you or Hyeon or Eunbi or anyone else that was in his life. “And I regret it so fucking much because Hyeon deserves a better father, one that loves him and not one that uses him as a prop to fill that gaping hole in his chest.”

That does it.

That opens the wound right up and he reacts before he even lets time settle deep within him. One second he’s opening his mouth to say something, anything to send you in a spiral of self-doubt because he knows you’re right and he hates it. And the next he’s pinning you against the sink and his mouth is on yours kissing you furiously. Like he’s trying to prove a point. Like he’s making up for lost time.

Your eyes are wide and you almost kiss him back. But everything settles down fast and you push him away. “What the fuck Taehyung you can’t just do that.” You place your hand on top of your chest in a poor attempt to calm yourself down.

Taehyung is alarmed, running his hands through his hair, avoiding your gaze as he tries to comprehend what just happened. He hasn’t kissed you in almost five years. And the first time he did, he couldn’t pull away. Addicted to the way your lips seemed to mold perfectly with his. It scared him. Everything about you scared him because it made him forget about the walls he spent years building. Yet, here he was with you. In this stupid tiny bathroom remembering why he’s kept his distance from you.

“I-I...S-...I mean I.” He stammers.

You scoff, shaking your head. Back then you would’ve stayed until you got an explanation from him. Now you could care less, disgusted by how nice his lips felt on yours while his new fling or whatever was roaming around Namjoon’s backyard. “Just leave me alone Taehyung.” You sigh before turning around, unlocking the door faster than anyone can blink, and walk out. Leaving him behind and stunned as he beats himself up in his head.

You would’ve stayed until he was better if Taehyung had called out after you. He didn’t, so you kept walking, unaware of the tears flowing down his cheeks.

He remembers why he hates himself so much.

You’re walking to your car fast. Hyeon is in your arms begging to stay five more minutes.

It hurts you to see the fat crocodile tears running down his cheeks, but after everything that went down in the bathroom. Staying the rest of the hour was not an option. So you ignored the calls of your name, grabbed Hyeon who was in the middle of a game with Hana and the twins, and the rest of your stuff before booking it to the garden gate. Ignoring all of the protests and calls coming from your concerned friends.

“Baby please it’s almost bedtime we have to go home.” You try to reason with him, opening the back door to your car and settling him down into his car seat.

He huffs, crossing his arms in front of him, his bottom lip wobbling. “But we always stay for the fireworks.”

You sigh, pushing his hair back revealing his forehead before wiping his cheeks with your thumbs. “I know Hyeonie but it’s getting late and mommy is very very tired.” You sigh. The exhaustion drops down onto your shoulders like a blanket. “I missed you.”

Hyeon sniffs, lifting his hand up, poking your cheek with his finger. “Daddy made you upset again.” He tilts his head and crosses his arms. “I hate daddy because he always makes you cry.” He whispers looking past you at his feet that were against the backrest of the passenger seat.

“Hyeon don’t sa-”

“Can I stay with you forever and never go to daddy’s house?” He looks at you with pleading eyes. It tugs at your heartstrings. Knowing that even as a four-year-old he was way more perceptive than he led on. Still hearing him tell you his true feelings towards his dad. True feelings that were masked with excitement whenever you drove him over to Taehyung’s place, hurts so much that you feel your heart contract in pain.

You blink back tears, placing two fingers under his chin and turning his face so he’s looking directly at you. “Hyeon, I know daddy and I aren’t normal and sometimes we fight a lot but that doesn’t mean we don’t love you. Just because daddy makes me angry and makes me cry that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you Hyeon.”

“He doesn’t,” Hyeon exclaims kicking the back of the seat, making you jump at his sudden outburst. “He’s always buying me toys I don’t like and giving me food I don’t like and drinking that weird gold juice and screaming and I hate him.” He yells kicking the back of the seat multiple times.

You break. The sob escapes you before you can stop it, watching as your son experiences heartbreak and betrayal all at once before the age of five. You feel like a failure and it’s debilitating because you can’t say or do anything to make it all stop. So you just bury your face in your hands and cry with him.

That’s all you can do, so that’s all you will do.

It feels like hours before you feel a warm hand on your back. Your name escaping the back of their throat like it’s foreign. Like it’s new.

You lift your head up fast enough to almost give yourself whiplash. Your eyes settle on Hyeon whose hiccuping, trying to regain his composure. You can hear the angry yells from Namjoon’s backyard and you feel terrible for ruining everyone's night. Again.

“My sister took the girls to get ice cream.” He says, grinning. His hand is still on your back making you look at him, and then Hyeon who is gaping at him with curiosity.

“Let me drive you home.”

You shake your head, whipping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “I don’t...um I-”

“Momma I want to go home.” Hyeon crooks, reaching over and kissing your cheek gently. You sigh and close your eyes nodding your head.

You weren’t in the right state of mind to drive, and that sucked because you didn’t want anyone else to be dragged into the mess Taehyung dragged you into years ago. But Jungkook was here, with stars in his eyes looking at you like you were an entire galaxy that had been left undiscovered.

He doesn’t hesitate when you hand him your car keys. Instead, he walks to the driver's seat, waits for you to get into the passenger seat before getting in. He starts the car double checks if you and Hyeon are strapped in safely before pulling out of the driveway and drives.

You’re aware that he doesn’t know your address and eventually, you will tell him. But for right now you just want to get away. He understands so he does that and drives.

#bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic

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plume-pigmented-pili · 4 years

Text

Hey hey! here’s a little something I wrote for Eli a few months ago. They convinced me i should post it, so here i am lol

———

Tw: Descriptions of a Cold, sickness (non graphic), feelings unwanted, coughing, headaches, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort. Let me know if I need to add more!

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Prinxiety (Written as Romantic but could be read as platonic i guess)

“Virgil is miserable. Its the middle of the night, and Virgil is stuck in bed, unable to sleep, with a horrible cold. The actual cold isn’t why he’s miserable, though.

Is it selfish to want to be cared for?”

—

Through Sickness and Health

Virgil could hear the clock on the opposite wall ticking just a tad too fast, and didn’t need to even look over at it to know it was way too late to be awake. Sure, he didn’t have the best sleep schedule, but at least he was usually enjoying himself when he stayed up, and it was rarely this late. It wasn’t even his fault this time.

But here Virgil was, laying in bed curled under all the blankets he owned, wishing he was dead. On paper, that sounds a lot worse than it really was, but who could blame him? The sweet release of death sounded like heaven compared to suffering here any longer. His throat was sandpaper dry, nose clogged with snot, and what felt like a small bomb went off in his skull with every movement.

That, though, wasn’t the main reason he was suffering.

He’d been sick before, he knew it would be over soon, but no physical pain could compare to the hurt he felt, knowing that the others knew of his illness, and didn’t give a single damn.

There was no way they didn’t know what was happening - even if he’d tried to hide it, which he hadn’t, it’s not like acting was ever his specialty - but not a single one of them had batted an eye since he came down with this stress induced cold.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Patton had asked if he was feeling alright on day two, when Virgil had shuffled downstairs around three in the afternoon to grab a snack, hoodie flipped up as he dug around, his hands clearly shaky from fever yet he’d been too tired to try and hide it. He’d told Patton, in the least shaky voice he could muster, that he just wasn’t feeling very well.

In hindsight, it had probably been incredibly selfish of him to expect Patton to come to his aid and comfort him, maybe offer to tuck him in on the couch and make him something healthy to eat. He’d seen Patton do just that plus more when Logan or Roman were feeling under the weather after all. But despite knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t help the disappointment and sinking feeling he’d felt when Patton had simply responded with a gentle, almost pitying, “I’m sorry kiddo, thank you for telling me.” before walking away rather hurriedly, leaving it there.

The conversation rolled around in his head, as it had been for the past 5 days. Nobody had come to check on him, not even the resident fatherly side to see if he was feeling any better. He’d been downstairs one other time since that little exchange with Patton, but when he’d walked in on Roman and Logan talking casually in the living room, they’d both given him short, obviously forced smiles, and sunk out. That’d been on day three, and Virgil hadn’t gone back down there since. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Maybe they didn’t want to get sick? Or maybe they thought he was gross, and didn’t want to be near him. Did they think he would be rude to them?

All this thinking was making Virgil’s head hurt more. And it really didn’t matter the reason. They didn’t care, they clearly wanted to avoid him.

It hurt, worse than his actual sickness, having to stay away from everyone for days on end. It reminded him of the old days before he was accepted, when he wasn’t welcome anywhere else but the confinement of his room. He missed Patton’s warm greeting each time he walked into a room, or the rants Logan would get lost in that were strangely so calming. Most notably, though, he missed Roman.

He missed their stupid banter that always left him feeling more confident, and the never ending singing that Virgil pretended not to adore. Hell, he missed just talking to the creative side. He’d give anything just to have a conversation with him, just to lift his spirits a little. He longed for one of the warm, solid hugs that only Roman could give.

He would probably even give up his Disney posters, his entire MCR song library, or get banned from every Hot Topic in the country, just to be held and cuddled right at this moment. To be held in warm, secure arms, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and roses, and drift to sleep knowing he wouldn’t be alone in the morning.

That last one had about a zero percent chance of happening, even if he wasn’t sick and contagious, but Virgil’s sleep deprived, fever ridden brain had decided to be sentimental, and Virgil couldn’t even stop it. At least he wasn’t gone enough to consider asking for any of that comfort he craved. it’d be easier for everyone to just wait in his room until he was better. Then maybe things would be normal again.

And that was his plan, until someone knocked on his door.

The anxious side’s gaze shot over to the clock, grimacing when the quick movement made his eyeballs throb. Who the Hell was knocking on his door at nearly 3:45 in the morning?

“Who-“ Virgil cringed at how his gravely voice broke, cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who is it?”

“I knew you were awake!” Romans voice, surprisingly enough, came from the other side of the door. He was clearly trying to stay quiet, but for some reason, he sounded really… relieved, and chipper. A second later, the Prince added a bit more bashfully, “Uh, unless i just woke you up by knocking, and if that’s the case I sincerely apologize, I didn’t mea-“

“No, I w’s already awake…” Virgil interrupted with a slight slur, groggy brain trying to keep up with what was happening. Being the embodiment of Anxiety, though, meant he didn’t get to stop being anxious just because he was sick. Why was he here? Was he angry? Virgil couldn’t recall doing anything that could offend anyone since he’d been self-quarantined, but then again, he couldn’t really remember his last name at the moment either. He mumbled to himself as he untangled his legs from the covers, cursing the universe under his breath because his head felt two times it’s normal size. Then he took a deep breath and sat up. He didn’t want to make Roman uncomfortable or grossed out seeing him all sick in bed, cause holy shit would that be embarrassing. He still didn’t look great, but it was a small step. “Come in Pr’ncey.”

The door swung open, revealing a timid, bed headed Roman, who seemed to relax a little when noticing Virgil sitting up in bed. “Hey there.. sorry to barge in, I hope i’m not bothering you.” he said, voice still lowered and really quite gentle as he shut the door behind him.

Virgil went to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could cause himself fucking brain damage and just shrugged instead. “ y’re not both’ring me. ‘sup?” yikes, all this sitting up and trying to look presentable business was making him realize how exhausted he was. His eyelids felt heavy already.

Roman took a few steps forward, keeping his eyes steadily on Virgil like he was waiting for him to keel over and die, or cough on him. It seemed pretty damn dramatic, even for Roman. “I… just wanted to check on you. I’ve uh, been a little worried about you, and i couldn’t sleep.” The Prince said, hesitant as he lowered himself on the foot of the bed.

Virgil blinked a few times, curling his legs up so his knees were to his chest to make sure Roman wouldn’t touch his feet under the 5 layers of blankets he had over him. Or maybe it was the sudden, treacherous hope that was rising in him, a hope he was trying to stifle. Roman was… worried about him? Roman of all sides? I mean, he wasn’t surprised that he cared, he and Roman were friends now after all. Virgil was just surprised he cared about this. He thought they were all in agreement to avoid him or something.

Virgil was about to open his mouth and say… something - he didn’t really know what he was going to say. It felt like his train of thought was chugging along through molasses - but he was interrupted before he could get any words out.

“Dude… no offense, but you look like actual death. And why in the name of Hades are you buried under so many blankets?” The Prince asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, at least for the second part.

Virgil huffed and pulled the blankets tighter around him, the movement causing him to shiver. He couldn’t decide what to focus on; The cold air on his back, the rising sensation of relief knowing Roman cared, or how weird that question had been. Quite honestly, Virgil wasn’t offended because he knew he looked like shit. he was just a little confused. He thought Roman would have known he’d look like shit. “What do you mean why do I have so many blankets. I literally feel like ’m freezing to death. ’s part of the package, shouldn’t you know this?” He practically deadpanned, not even for the snarkiness like usual. His speech was just dull.

But that only left Roman looking more confused, and probably a good deal more concerned if his expression was anything to go by. “I-... I didn’t know that, no.. I’m sorry. Do you want another blanket or something…?” he asked carefully, still awfully and almost painfully cautious.

And Virgil… was at a loss for how this could possibly be new information to Roman. it was pretty common knowledge even if you’ve never had a fever before. But instead of dwelling, Virgil once again stopped himself from shaking his head, sighing instead. “No, it won’ help.” he said shortly. The effort would be futile, but it was endearing that Roman at least asked. “Thanks though. That’s.. really nice of you t’ offer.” The anxious side offered a bit more quietly.

There was an awkward silence that followed, Roman shuffling his feet against the carpet slightly as he looked around the room. Virgil saw the other’s eyes catch on the pile of used tissues in the floor, another bout of confusion flashing in his bright green eyes, but he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe it was a lack of sleep making the Prince act so clueless at the moment. “I… I guess i’ve just.. i don’t know, everything is more boring without you around. Nobody to insult without actually offending them.” Roman spoke again after a moment, sending a half smile in Virgil’s direction.

A little smirk matched with a snort is what the Prince was rewarded with, Virgil's spirits lifted regardless of his misery. It felt nice knowing he was missed, and it made his chest warm knowing it was coming from Roman. For some reason, knowing he could make things more bearable for his counterpart was.. rewarding, in a way. And Roman looked proud of himself, before he continued a bit more solemnly. “You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, like what, 5 says now?”

That got Virgil to sigh, and maybe there was some defensiveness laying beneath the surface, made worse thanks to being miserable, but all he managed was a mildly annoyed side eye to Roman as he responded in a mumble, still doing his best not to run Roman off. “‘t’s not my fault.”

Roman was quick to shake his head, slight guilt in his expression. “I know! I-I’m not trying to make you feel bad, i guess i just- i don’t know, i’m just talking out loud… sorry.” Roman’s voice had quieted, eyes trained on the floor somewhat shamefully as he seemed to search for his words. “I just.. I just wish…” but once again, he trailed off, shaking his head and seeming to give up. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s fine, Princey.” Virgil mumbled back, eyes dropping to his lap where he picked at a loose string on his bedspread. Another silence followed, Virgil trying to sniffle as silently as he could. Despite how weird this interaction had been so far, and how slightly awkward it’s gotten, Virgil was honestly just trying to soak in the mere presence of another side while it lasted. He’d never liked being alone for so long. His stomach was starting to hurt for a reason aside from sickness. This sure was a good way to get Roman to leave early, the others were probably right for leaving him alone so far.

Suddenly, Virgil squeezed the blankets in his fist to try and stop a sudden tickle in his throat, the sensation coming out of nowhere. Unfortunately though, his instincts won out just seconds later as he was forced to cough, the sound gargled and gross even when he covered the whole bottom half of his face with his covers. Dammit, dammit, stupid fucking cough. And Roman just got there too. He wasn’t ready for the creative side to leave again yet.

“S- Sorry, sorry ‘bout that. Shit.” He mumbled rather quickly, hoping to by just a few minutes longer of the creative side’s company before it was taken away again for who knows how long. His head felt like it was being split open, no thanks to the effort it took to cough. Who the Hell’s idea was sickness? They should be fired.

Much to his surprise though, when Virgil hesitantly looked up to gauge how put off Roman was by his display, he only saw an overwhelming about of worry, but even more importantly, alarm.

“Apologies, but is this like- normal??” Roman asked with eyes noticeably wider, studying Virgil's pained expression, hunched over posture, the mess of dirty tissues around, and the way the bright numbers of his digital clock on his nightstand was covered carefully, with a washcloth no doubt.

Virgil drew in a deep, slow breath through his nose as he rubbed on his temples to try and alleviate some pain, eyes closed and head tilted down. Roman’s ridiculous questions were just making his headache worse, and honestly he didn’t even understand how the Hell he was so confused. Was this his plan? To come in here and confuse Virgil and his already incapacitated brain? ‘Cause if so, he was doing a brilliant job. “Roman, what the hell are you talking about.”

It came out less like a question, more like a very tired statement, but he was answered with confused stammering, Roman gesturing almost desperately to Virgil and his state. “What do you mean what am I talking about?? Dude, you’re clearly not doing well. I mean, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but you’re sweating like a sinner in church, you’re covered in a thousand blankets, you were just hacking up a lung and you’re barely able to speak right from, what i’m assuming, is a nose full of mucus!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I look like shit, Pr’ncey, enough said.” Virgil snapped, glaring up at Roman and accidentally moving his head up to look at him too fast, sending a flare of agony through his skull. He cursed under his breath and winced, but powered through it even as Roman lifted a hand to- to what, help? It didn’t matter, Virgil moved away from the effort. “No, don’t touch me, alright? I don’t wan’ your pity.”

Virgil knew all of this was coming out more aggressive than he ever would allow if he was feeling himself. Hell, even now he was begging himself to just shut up and stay calm. But after almost 2 full days with no sleep, and 5 days of nonstop pain, coughing, being unable to breath properly, the feeling of fire in his throat every time he tried to eat, and then on top of that, being shunned by the 3 people he wanted- needed, more than anything. Well, he really couldn’t stop his composure from cracking and shattering.

Roman looked ready to respond, seemingly struck with more pity than before, but Virgil’s hand shot up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it, Princey. Why the Hell are you even here anyway? If you’ve missed me so much, why did you wait 5 f’cking days to come see me? T’ come ‘check on me’? And, by th’ way, so far you’ve really only been fucking with me and making me feel worse, so in reality it probably would ‘ve been better had you just kept up your streak of avoiding me like ev’ryone else!”

Virgil was breathing heavily, head pounding and lungs burning after raising his voice just a bit too much at the end of his rant. He replayed the words back in his mind, heart sinking when he realized how aggressive he’d gotten. He couldn’t slow down his breathing, why couldn’t he slow his breathing?? Jesus christ, he wasn’t about to break down on top of all that other shit he just unleashed. Perfect, he was just proving the other side’s point for them.

With his body now starting to shake, jaw clenched to hold back tears because this week has been bullshit, and he felt like curling up and disappearing, if not to escape his aching body then to at least escape the anger he knew would result from that whole verbal meltdown he just had. Obviously Roman would be leaving, but would he yell first? Tell him how annoying and selfish he was, and how he didn’t get to be a huge asshole just because he was feeling a little under the weather? Or would he leave in silence, just exit the room with that silent, cold anger that Roman only showed when he was really upset.

Maybe he’d tell everyone else what happened, how he’d tried to extend an olive branch, test it out just to see if maybe his illness hadn’t made him into a pathetic prick, but Virgil lashed out as expected and ran him off. Would Logan and Patton get mad at him too? Come in and tell him off for being so horrible to his own family, that he couldn’t even be a decent person for 5 minutes.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal even after he’s recovered, all because he couldn’t just control himself.

“Virgil, what are you talking about?” Roman asked exasperated, and Virgil dragged his hands down his face. He meant to make more of a growl in frustration, but it came out closer to a pained whine. His eyes stung for a new reason now. He just wanted this to stop. Why wouldn’t Roman just stop?

“What. What am I talking about what. I can’t do this- this whole vague shit righ’now, jus’ spit it out.” He hated how short tempered he was sounding, but Roman didn’t seem to be fazed. Virgil could see the Prince waving his hands around in his peripheral, looking tongue tied.

“The- The part where you think i’m fucking with you?? Why you think we’re avoiding you?? Why you’re so-... so….” Roman trailed off, a look of realization crossing his face, which quickly turned to horror and guilt. “Wait a… w-wait a second, Virgil, are you- are you sick??”

To say Roman sounded appalled would be an understatement, his eyes wide in shock, brows drawn, mouth slightly agape. Virgil’s head spun, suddenly dizzy as his brain tried to figure out why Roman sounded so horrified- why he sounded so surprised. He couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt nauseous and he just wanted to sleep. Before he knew it, tears were trekking down his face, thick tears springing from his eyes making the pressure behind them even more unbearable. A sob tore painfully from his throat, instantly catching the Prince’s full attention.

“Oh my… Virgil-“

Virgil shrunk away from the Prince’s voice, curling up once more into a ball, trying to hide from everything. His lip wobbled, he could feel it, but he was too tired to be embarrassed or feel pathetic. He pulled the covers closer around him. “R-Roman, please jus’-“ He hiccuped on a sob, hissed through his teeth as the action sent a sharp pain through his lungs. “I don’ know i-if you’re tryin’ to joke ‘r somethin’, but— but ’s n- not funny, o-okay?”

Instead of speaking clearly at a normal volume, Virgil was nearly mumbling the entire time he was speaking, slurring through words even worse than when the conversation started. Was it just him, or was the room spinning? “Please, i… i need you t’...” Virgil huffed for breath, exhaustion wearing on him like a switch was just suddenly flipped. It nearly took all his energy to try and get a deep breath.

“Ro…”

Virgil was met with a warm, broad chest, and strong arms wrapping around him before he even knew he was slumping forward. His ears were ringing, drowning out what sounded like a familiar voice speaking to him. They sounded distressed, he hoped they were okay. What was combing through his hair? He couldn’t quite remember what was going on before then, but all he knew was, he was safe now.

Then, the world went dark.

———

Virgil came into consciousness a little while later, his brain the kind of blissfully empty that only comes after passing out, apparently. He couldn’t grasp where he was before, existing in a reality where there is no past for a few moments. His head was vaguely aching, like a dull throb faded into the background, and his lungs stung only a little when he breathed in deeply. In his sleepy state though, Virgil didn’t concern himself with those feelings.

Virgil couldn’t see anything, he noticed not long after, but he could hear murmuring and the distant sound of water running.

Next, he realized he knew he wasn’t in his own room anymore, both because this wasn’t his mattress, and the room didn’t smell like his own.

He could smell.. cinnamon… and peaches… and ink. Somewhere in his groggy brain, Virgil recognized the smell, but at the moment it was just out of his reach. It didn’t bother him, though, not when he was so relaxed and calm. He felt like he was one with the bed, and the soft, fluffy sheets encasing him.

A few more seconds of coming to, and Virgil realized his eyes were covered with something damp, and cool… soft too. It felt amazing against his warm skin. oh right, i’m sick, a thought entered his mind gently.

Then, a lot less gently, the events from before he passed out rushed to the forefront of his mind, practically smacking him in the face. Because yes, he’d passed out, right in front of Roman like an idiot, oh shit, why isn’t he in his room, where is he-

“Virgil? Hey woah, calm down buddy- here,” Virgil heard someone quickly cross the room, and tended his body for all of two seconds before the washcloth over his eyes was being lifted.

Virgil blinked blearily, squinting his eyes even though the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a thin line of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Someone was sat beside him on the side of the bed, but he was too blurry for Virgil to make out details.

“There you are. Hey Hot Topic, how are you feeling?” the person asked, speaking more gently than anyone had spoken to Virgil in a long time. Strangely though, Virgil wasn’t upset by it. It was.. nice…

Wait a minute, he knew that voice.

“R- Roman..? I.. Where…?” Distantly, Virgil knew he sounded like shit, which meant he probably looked like shit, and directly after asking that half assed question, he realized he had to be in the Princes room. “Oh.. fuckin’- I passed out on you..” he groaned, moving his hands up to scrub the blurriness from his eyes.

It worked, surprisingly, and now that Virgil could see, he realized that yes, Roman was the one sitting next to him, and yes he was in Roman’s room, in Roman’s bed. He also noticed how tossed Roman’s hair was, and the bright red with little snowmen pajamas the Prince wore. They were really adorable.

“Yes, I’m afraid you did.. and I’m also afraid that I am partly to blame for it.” Roman sighed, casting his eyes down as he pressed his lips in a line.

Virgil’s brows drew together, and, because he was so delirious, he reached out to grab gently at Romans sleeve. “How is it your fault that I passed out?” he asked incredulously. At least he could speak properly now. Now? Now since when? Oh geez, “Wait how long have I been out? A few hours? Days? Years?! Did I fall into a coma?!”

The corner of Roman’s lip lifted in amusement, and he gently lay a hand over Virgil’s, on his sleeve. “No, no nothing like that, Dark Knight. It’s only been an hour or so. I.. hope you don’t mind, but I had to bring you in here. Your fever was… really high.” The Prince of Creativity said, solemn by the end.

“I think i’ve managed to get it down, so it’s not so dangerous anymore, but Logan will definitely have to keep an eye on it today.”

That got Virgil's attention. “Wait- Logan? Uh.. yeah, not to burst your bubble Princey, but I doubt that’ll be happening.” There was a slight bitterness to his tone as he wrapped his free arm around his midsection, and though there wasn’t as much bitterness as there usually would be, Roman still picked up on it loud and clear.

He inclined his head, as if in agreement, and Virgil stomach only sunk a little bit before Roman was speaking again.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Virgil. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding. This is how I’m partially responsible for your passing out, same as Logan and Patton are also partly to blame.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, breath hitching at the sheer ridiculousness of that suggestion. No!! How could it be their fault? He’s the one that got so sick and couldn’t keep himself healthy enough not to fucking pass out. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Roman held up a finger before he could get out a single word, silencing him.

“A few days ago, 5 to be exact, it came to Patton’s attention that you weren’t feeling yourself. He told me and Logan that you told him you weren’t feeling very well, and that we should all give you some space the next few days.” Roman said carefully. Ah yes, that conversation. The one that’s haunted Virgil for nearly a week. Virgil remembered it well.

With a hesitant, still very lost nod from Virgil, Roman continued. “It seems that Patton, and in turn, Logan and I, assumed that your strange behavior was linked to.. well, anxiety.” He gave Virgil’s hand a light squeeze, any sign of a smile gone and replaced with pained regret. The Prince swallowed, just as Virgil pieced it together.

“Because of these more stressful times Thomas is experiencing, we wrongly thought that you were having a rough week, leading to worse anxiety. So… we’ve been leaving you on your own, thinking we were helping you..”

Virgil.. didn’t know what to say. He looked up and found Roman’s red, sorrowful eyes. When he focused, he could see they were just a little bit bloodshot, even in the dark. Proof that he had previously cried, no doubt about this. When Virgil didn’t speak, still too shocked as his slowed brain processes this, Roman continued, quietly choking back a sob just after he averted his gaze to the floor.

“V-Virgil-“ he voice cracked. Virgil’s heart was sinking in his chest. Roman had never looked so heartbroken. “Virgil I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were sick, none of us did! I-I swear I didn’t know, I would have never left you alone if I had, Virgil, Star, i’m so so s-sorry,”

Roman was practically full on crying by that point, though he clearly tried to keep it to himself and stay quiet. Virgil was grateful for the effort, but there were much more important things to focus on at the moment. He may not be completely himself, but he still couldn’t let Roman be so sad.

It was because he wasn’t completely himself that Virgil automatically sat up (taking his time to do so, trying not to upset his head), and leaned himself right against Roman, chest to chest, looping his arms around to loosely hold Princey in a hug.

It all made sense now, why he’d been ignored all week, and why nobody came to check on him or try to help. He felt a little (read: a lot) stupid for thinking that anyone in his famILY would do anything but show him the upmost care and attention when he needed it. They thought they were helping, and honestly, had he in fact been having a bad week of heightened anxiety, giving him space would have been the right thing for them to do.

Roman was quick to return Virgil’s hug, though to his credit, his hug was a lot stronger and more secure than Virgil’s. He buried his face in Virgil’s hair, a steady stream of teary apologies spilling from him. A steady stream that Virgil hastily tried to end.

“Roman, it’s okay… i’m not upset, I promise it’s okay. I know you were doing what you thought would help me. Please don’t cry, Princey.” He said softly.

It might have been a few more minutes, or a few hours, that the two sides sat together in each other’s arms. Roman’s cries and apologies slowly quieted to a stop, though the gentle combing of fingers through Virgil’s hair only continued as they sat.

“Hey… Roman?” Virgil whispered after a few more moments, the whole mindscape quiet, save for the quiet sniffles from both Virgil and Roman every once in a while.

“Yes, sweet Midnight?” came an equally gentle response. Neither side moved, Virgil too content with his face snuggly buried against his counterpart’s shoulder, and Roman too content with having Anxiety safe in his arms.

“Would… well, you can say no, but would you mind.. if I stay in here..? I don’t… really want to be alone…” a hint of Virgil’s usual anxious tendencies showed itself despite the tiredness that was starting to cover the darker side. Instead of head-swimming exhaustion though, this time Virgil felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed.

Without uttering another word, Roman pulled them both down to lay their heads on the pillows, lifting one hand to gently flick his wrist and manipulate the covers around them. The light in the bathroom turned off with a soft click of Roman’s fingers, one that Virgil hardly registered as he shuffled somehow closer to the Prince, still tucked safely in his arms.

As he fell softly and smoothly into the first restful sleep he’s had in days, Virgil noticed that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The dull throb in his head had gone away almost entirely, and it felt that much easier to breathe. But most importantly, Virgil felt less alone than he had in a long, long time.

Needless to say, Virgil was feeling better already.

#tw sickness #hurt/comfort #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #prinxiety #virgil x roman #romantic prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

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fandom-imagines · 4 years

Text

Thank you

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: L X Reader

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse.

Words: 3k

A/N: I’m in a death note phase again. I wrote this instead of doing my essay oops.

Being the girlfriend of a worldwide, secret detective was hard.

Relationships were hard enough as it is but having to make sure both the partners names were kept hidden made it even harder. Then there’s the constant travelling that takes place along with many other things.

Basically, the relationship between L Lawliet and Y/N Y/S/N was a complicated one. Don’t get me wrong, they were both madly in love with the other, but that didn’t make it any less hard.

“Y/N!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the aforementioned couple.

That’s Misa, Y/N’s best friend and often co-worker. The two met at a photoshoot where they became fast friends, the pair being able to work together due to their celebrity status.

“Hi, Misa.” A soft smile crawled onto the Y/H/C-haired girls’ lips.

She usually loved seeing Misa, but today all she wanted was to go back to her house and chill, maybe with Lawliet, maybe not. Who knows? Not her.

“Hi, Ryuzaki.” Misa greeted her best friends’ boyfriend, albeit unknowingly, before grasping her small hand around Y/N’s arm. “Bye, Ryuzaki!” Were her final words as she dragged Y/N away, unaware that she was desperately mouthing “sorry” towards her boyfriend.

“Light won’t even take me on a date, Y/N/N!” Misa whined, still talking about her ‘boyfriend’, “Isn’t that so unfair?”

“Very.” Y/N mumbled, turning the page on her magazine which lay in front of her.

She was currently lying across Misa’s bed, the pink sheets creasing beneath her. The girl’s legs were crossed in the air, the entire weight of her body being placed solely on her stomach. The magazine she was reading was something she had bought on the way back to Misa’s, hoping to share opinions on outfits or gossip about latest celebrities, something that the pair had done since they met.

“Are you even listening, Y/N/N?” The blonde continued to whine upon realizing that her friend was no longer listening to her boy drama.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Y/N’s words weren’t necessarily a lie, she was deep in thought just not about something she wished to share.

Misa didn’t know about Lawliet and Y/N’s relationship, nobody did. That was how they liked it. No one could intervene, no drama or anything of the sort. Just the two of them, happy, together.

Oh how she longed to be with him right now. The two of them together, even if they were just sitting in HQ together whilst working on the Kira case that they had been working on for months now. That was how they had met: the Kira case.

Y/N knew of his involvement, her father worked as a detective, similar to Lights. That was how she joined the investigation despite being a student. Both her father and close friend, Light, recommended her.

However, that friendship was slowly fading as she found out more and more evidence that made her suspect Light of being Kira. She’s smart, very smart, that’s why she got along with both geniuses. She fit in well with the two. But the more she investigated the case, the more she realized that Light could possibly be behind the mass murders that were causing terror across the world, especially Japan.

“Ooh! What about? Is it a boy?” Misa was now sat up on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the yellow pillow that she was previously sitting on. Her loose blonde locks fell down her back as well as over the pillow. She looked absolutely beautiful.

How did Light not love her back?

“Shut up.” The other girl huffed, tossing a pillow from Misa’s bed into the face of the owner, giggling as Misa fell backwards onto the soft carpet before bursting into a fit of giggles herself.

“You have to tell me!” The words left Misa’s lips between giggles as she recomposed herself.

“No!”

“Yes~”

The two argued back and forth for around five minutes before giving up, and bursting into a giggle fit once again, something that was common between the pair.

“So, you like someone?” Misa wiggled her eyebrows in amusement at the fact that her best friend was finally interested in someone other than fictional characters. “Tell me everything.”

Without revealing who it was, Y/N began to tell her about her ‘crush’, despite said crush actually being her boyfriend of a few months now. Ensuring that no significant details were released which could identify the man, she told her everything. Blushing was something new to her, but neither Misa nor Y/N complained. It was a refreshing change for them both.

“Wow,” The model let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding once Y/N had poured her heart out, slightly at least. “I never knew you were capable of such feelings, Y/N/N!”

“Stop teasing me~” Y/N’s hands covered her blushing face, words becoming muffled behind the skin. “This is embarrassing enough as it is,” a groan left her lips as she continued her sentence. “Besides, I doubt he even likes me back.” The final words were mumbled, self-doubt settling in as she realized that her boyfriend might not actually love her.

Logically, Y/N knew that L wouldn’t use her, or at least she hopes, and that he genuinely did value her and her opinion. He enjoyed her company and didn’t find her annoying. He really did love her, despite not having admitted it.

“Sure he does! You’re great, Y/N/N.” Misa grinned at her best friend, unknowingly providing her with a source of comfort.

“Thanks, Misa.” A sigh left the other girls lips, a sinking feeling of doubt looming over her. “I should probably get home, it’s getting late. Goodnight, Misa.”

“Goodnight, Y/N!”

Instead of heading home Y/N decided to take a late-night stroll.

The dark sky was littered with bright stars, a nice change from the usual plain nights sky in Japan. It gave an almost comforting feel to the stroller, reminding her of her childhood when she would stay up late to stare up at the midnight sky with a genuine belief that it was the world watching over her, much like the moon which was ‘following’ her everywhere she went to make sure she was safe.

It was childish, yes, but she was a child so what do you expect?

The Y/H/C-haired girl observed her breath as she exhaled. It was cold which wasn’t a huge surprise considering that it was nearing December now; winter time. Despite being extremely cold, she decided that it wasn’t time to head home just yet. Her mind wasn’t entirely clear and it wasn’t exactly in her best interest to go home with an overthinking mind, so he continued her walk.

The sound of her shoes hitting the ground was one of the only things she could hear other than the occasional passing car or truck. The streetlights lit up her view, being the only thing that did so and Y/N internally thanked whoever put them up considering she wouldn’t be able to use the torch on her phone as it had died long ago. The odd passing-by car provided her with some light also, although it wasn’t much.

It wasn’t until around 1am when she finally decided she should head home.

The house was deadly silent as she entered, but the lights were still alight, leaving the daughter of the local baker and detective confused.

“Mum?” The girls voice was slightly quiet in case she was asleep whilst still being loud enough for anyone seated downstairs to hear.

“Where have you been?!” Her mothers voice was incredibly loud, making Y/N cringe and wince. “I’ve been worried sick! How could you make your mom worry like this?”

Ah, there comes the guilt tripping. Y/N’s thoughts were awfully loud, and she cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, mom.” A frown had made its way onto her lips as she apologized.

Sure, she probably should have warned her that she was going for a walk, but there was no need to guilt trip her.

“You should be. Now go to your room!”

She simply ran upstairs.

The bags under Y/Ns’ eyes almost matched Ryuzaki’s the following day.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night as she replayed every bad moment with her mother sine childhood and believe me, there was a lot of them.

Her mother hadn’t been the best parent to say the least. She was never physically abusive, but the mental scars from her words and actions had taken a toll on her daughter throughout the years.

“Are you okay?” Lights words were full of concern upon noticing the girls tired composure. The way she stood further proved that she was exhausted considering how she was slumped over. Hands shaking also, Light was genuinely concerned, despite his status as Kira, something he knew that she suspected. “You look terrible, no offence.”

“I’m fine.” Her words were quiet, almost silent, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give a completely response but she figured those words would suffice and he would hopefully leave her alone.

Whilst concerned, Light knew not to push things when someone didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t push it further, favouring to ask if she was going to the HQ later which she was.

“Ryuzaki isn’t in today,” Lights words caught her attention, finally pulling her from her trance, “he’s working on the investigation.”

“Oh,” while her response was short, the criminal still cheered internally, glad that he had stopped her worrying, even if it was for a split second.

For the entire day she was completely ‘out of it’, unable to concentrate or even form a coherent sentence and she mentally kicked herself at her so-called failure. However she was slightly grateful that there was no exam today, knowing she would have most definitely failed. She probably wouldn’t have been able to write more than three words.

Y/N’s walk to HQ was lonely as she desperately craved some human contact.

She really needed a hug.

As though in a trance, the girl scanned herself into HQ and headed towards the main room where she knew everyone would be.

“Hi, Y/N,” Matsuda’s cheerful greeting caught Ryuzaki’s attention. Well, more like the name of the person he was greeting.

Nobody could have known however, unaware of the short-lived glance he had spared towards her. This short glance told him a lot: she hadn’t slept, she was deep in thought and she felt… crap.

This worried the detective immensely. He really did care for the girl; a lot more than he would admit. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to risk facing rejection.

It would hurt.

“Hi.” The response she gave Matsuda was blunt, emotionless which L wasn’t happy to hear.

She never used that tone. She was usually cheerful. It must be bad.

“You guys can go for a break. You’ve been here most of today and it’s not nearing 5pm.” L’s words matched his girlfriends tone as usual, uncaring about the relief his words had just provided the others on the case. “Except you.” His gaze was now fixated on his love, making her internally curse at herself for being so obvious about her low mood.

The raven-haired detective waited for everyone to leave, stare unmoving as he observed Y/N’s every move and she walked towards the chair opposite him.

“What is it?” Y/N’s gaze was cast towards the ground, not wanting L to see her like this. “I’m sorry.” Her words were quick, worried that he was going to say something that would simply upset her more. “I-I didn’t mean too.”

L’s cold hand gently grasped her chin, lifting her face so that they could look at each other and he cringed slightly as he saw the tear threatening to fall from her eyes.

Okay, he is now really worried.

“What’s wrong?” His words were quiet but still laced with genuine concern, along with his eyes. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” The words stumbled from her lips, only worrying him more. “C-can I just go today? Please.”

L simply nodded, watching as she dashed from the HQ and out of his sight.

“Why do you keep disappearing?” Y/N’s mothers voice was the first thing she heard as she walked through the door.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N begged, simply wishing to be alone.

She made an attempt to dash upstairs, only to be stopped by her mothers tight grip around her wrist as she spun her around to face her. A hash slap hit the younger girls face with such a force that they both knew would leave a mark the following day.

“Y-Y/N…” Upon realisation of what she had just done, her tight grip around her daughters wrist loosened, hand dropping to her side.

“Never talk to me again.” YN’s words were quiet yet laced with venom before she finally dashed up to her room, one goal in mind:

Leave.

Her movements were quick as she packed her bag, tears leaking from her eyes in both pain and sadness,

Within minutes her bag was packed, tossed over her shoulder before she ran downstairs.

“Please don’t leave.” Her mother’s plead fell on deaf ears, the only response coming from the closing of the door as she watched her daughter leave, neither of them knowing if she would ever return.

It was cold. Very cold and Y/N cursed herself for not bringing a jacket, being in a skirt and t-shirt which was the same outfit she had worn to school today.

Shivering, she began her long walk towards HQ, something she knew would take a long time.

“What happened to you?” Detective Yagami’s voice was filled with panic upon seeing the tear stains on her cheeks as well as the bright red bruising hand-mark.

Lawliet payed no attention to his remark, simply assuming that Matsuda had had a clumsy accident yet again.

“Please, can I just sit down?” Was what captured his attention, the soft and exhausted voice being one he recognised immediately.

“O-of course.” Soichiro’s words were rushed as he signalled towards the seat he had previously occupied which Y/N gratefully took.

L spun on his chair to look at the girl, breath hitching as he took in her appearance.

He caught her gaze and she had looked up after hearing the spinning of the chair and she thanked whatever gods there were that it was simply the three of them.

“Detective Yagami would you mind if we have a moment?” L’s stare was unmoving as Yagami nodded, leaving the room.

“R-Ryu…” Her voice sounded broken, eyes filled with pain and he soon noticed the bag on the ground, quickly coming to the conclusion that something had happened at home, presumably with her mother, and she had ran away.

L quickly climbed onto his feet, opening his arms which Y/N gladly ran into, breaking down into sobs. His hand placed itself on her hair, burying itself into her hair as her face buried into his chest. L was uncaring as her tears soaked through his white tee; he only cared that she was okay. They stood like that for a long time, L providing comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“Come on,” L broke the silence as his girlfriend calmed down, her breath evening out, “lets get you to a room.” He offered her a hand as she pulled away, one she took with extreme gratitude, appreciating that it must have been hard for him to give her any affection.

Their hands never parted as they climbed the stairs of the HQ, heading towards Y/N’s new room. Ryuzaki had thrown her bag over his shoulder, the heavy weight of the bag not affecting him one bit.

The room was empty, and it was clear nobody was staying there.

The noise of the bag dropping to the ground was loud, startling Y/N whilst Lawliet remained unaffected, having been the one that had caused the noise; not that it would have scared him anyway.

Y/N was led towards the made bed by the detective, sitting herself down as he wordlessly instructed before taking a seat beside her.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother.” She apologised, making L shake his head in disagreement.

“You could never be a bother, Y/N. Not to me.” His words were less monotone than usual, less devoid of feeling. There was a genuine tone coming from him. “Matsuda’s a bother, not you.” He spoke which made the shorter girl chuckle, something she felt she hadn’t done in ages, despite it having only been a day, #

“Thanks, Ryu. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closely towards him until her warmth was felt by him. “I-“ He paused as he began to speak, extremely aware of what he was about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his sudden silence.

“I love you.” His words were quiet, almost unheard had it not been for the fact that the room was deadly silent.

The pair fell into an awkward silence for a moment before L got up to leave, apologising as he did so.

“Wait,” Y/N’s hand wrapped around his own, “I love you too.”

A small smile made its way onto both of their lips, L walking back over to the girl until he was stood directly in front of her. She watched closely as he bent down, unsure of what he was about to do. The second his lips touched her forehead a huge blush flowed across her cheeks.

“R-Ryu…?” Her embarrassed voice sounded, the only response she earned from him being a small smile before he gave her a pat on the head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.” She called, making him stop in the doorway.

“Anytime, Y/N/N.” The use of the nickname only made her blush harder.

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portals-to-a-new-world · 4 years

Text

Black Dresses and Back Alleys

(Butcher gif credit goes to @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth, and the edit is mine. Don’t ask why the gif is running so fast I couldn’t get it any slower. Open to suggestions lmao)

Who?: Billy Butcher x Reader

What?: Inspired by this post by @becs-bunker (thank you once again for letting me borrow the idea, love). Undercover in a night club to seduce a Vought scientist, with Butcher as your backup. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Does Butcher even need a language tag at this point? Smut. Portals? Writing smut? Why, it’s unheard of!!! Nah y’all know me this is smutty af. Specific warnings: Jealous!Butcher, Hints of Dom/sub, Public(ish) Smut, Fingering.

A/n: Hello everyone! Quick shout outs to @becs-bunker for the inspiration, and as always the illustrious @bakerstreethound for being a literal actual angel in human form, whom I thank every higher power for. I love ya. Also, shoutout to Sandmann on AO3 for helping out with some plot and general editing. You rock my dear. I wrote this with the dress in the picture above in mind, but feel free to read it as what ever sleeveless short dress you want :)

Going undercover in a night club to seduce some asshole scientist from Vought was not your ideal Saturday night. The mark was a new promotion in Vought and was more than happy to run his mouth once you got a few drinks in him. Bragging seemed to be his favorite thing to do, other than grinding like a 17-year-old boy at his first prom. It did provide a source of entertainment, though. Butcher had come as your backup, and never left your field of view for more than a minute. More than once you'd caught sight of Butcher scowling in your direction as the mark pulled you in close to whisper in your ear, or when his hand dropped a little too low while you were dancing. It finally came to a head, though, when the man led you over to a small VIP section and pulled you into his lap. You giggled and played along, trying to steer the conversation towards what he was working on for Vought. Turning all of your focus to getting him to tell you about the mysterious Compound V, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Butcher's voice cut through the noise.

"(Y/n)! Come ‘ere. I need to talk to ya." You jumped and turned to see Butcher stood just outside the ropes, glaring at the man, and his gaze sending ice through your veins. The idiot scientist didn't seem intimidated; however, he just scoffed and pulled you further into his lap.

"Sorry, mate," He said, making a terrible impression of Butcher's accent. "She's busy," You giggled and placed a hand on the man's chest, trying to salvage the situation, but you knew it was naught when you looked back over at Butcher. He was pulling what you called his 'death smirk,' and god only knew what he was planning. You recovered your composure and leaned in to speak into the mark's ear.

"I'll just be a minute." Your voice dripped with honey sweetness, but when you stood to walk away his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“And how do I know you will come back, sweetcheeks?” You cringed internally but offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to kiss him quickly. Seemingly satisfied, thank god he’s too drunk to press the matter, you turned and let your hips sway as you walked towards Butcher. As you approached, Butcher turned and started into the crowd.

Surely he's not pulling me out?

You hesitated at the ropes, causing him to turn back, and you could just barely hear his growl above the music.

"Now." You suppressed the outrage at his demand and turned back to shoot the scientist a wink. It took all of your focus not to storm off after Butcher, and you only grew angrier as he led you towards a back door. You didn't even flinch as he slammed the door open.

"What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? I nearly had him!" You exclaimed once the door shut. He didn't bother turning to look back at you as you moved to catch up with him.

"Yeah, nearly had his tongue down your throat, didn't ya?" He mumbled, clearly thinking you wouldn't hear. You reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Answer me. Why the fuck did you pull me out?" He glared at you for a moment before replying.

"He wasn't gonna tell us anything we didn't already know." He said.

Liar

You scoffed and darted around in front of him when he tried to walk away. "Don't bullshit me, Butcher. I've known you for too fucking long-"

"I didn't like the way he had his hands all over you, alright?!" You stopped in place, too stunned to believe it. Suddenly everything clicked into place.

"So the plan is to pick him up from this club on Saturday. He's there every weekend, so we know we'll definitely be able to grab him there. Then we bring him back here and-" Hughie cut MM off.

"Oh, don't tell me we're planning to kill him too," Hughie said, dragging a hand down his face. Butcher started to speak up, but you spoke first before he could give his little speech about whatever it takes.

"Why don't I go in?" Everyone turned to look at you. You shrugged and moved forward. "You said it's a night club, right? I'll go in undercover and get it out of him my way,"

"You mean fuck it out of him." Butcher scoffed, and you gave him a side-eye before continuing.

"It's easier that way too, he'll be too drunk to remember talking, and Vought won't be looking for the 6 stooges who kidnapped their new scientist."

"No." Butcher spat out. You turned to look at him in confusion. He avoided your gaze and looked back up at MM. "You, me, and Frenchie will wait for him and-"

"Butcher, if she's willing to go then-"

"I said no. It's too risky."

"And since when do you give a fuck?" You demanded. He finally turned to look at you, and you raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"You want to get yourself killed, fine. But I'm coming with you so I can wave at 'cha when Vought swoops in and drags you away."

Billy Butcher was jealous. So many thoughts rushed through your mind at once, and you shook your head to clear them before replying.

"And what gives you the right to pull me out when the mark gets a little handsy?" You demanded. The glare he sent you had you backing away until you were trapped between him and the wall.

"I protect what's mine." His voice was low and held a dark edge that sent chills down your spine.

"You don't own me, Butcher." The words had barely left your lips before he was slamming you back against the wall.

"No?" He asked, his face barely an inch from your own. You inhaled sharply as his hand yanked your skirt up, and he stroked two long fingers along your already dampening core. Another gasp escaped you as he leaned down to suck at your neck. "This cunt isn't mine? Sure did seem like it was the other night." You moaned as he pulled the fabric aside, circling your clit for a few moments. "That's a right shame." He growled against your ear, a finger just barely slipping inside you before he was suddenly gone, taking a step back to smirk as you whined and fell back against the wall.

"You don't get to pull this shit right now." You said, adjusting your skirt. "If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have fucking said so when you showed up at my door, begging me to help you and the boys. I told you then, no attachments. You fucked me over once already that first go around." Suddenly he was right back in front of you, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Better late than never, eh?" He growled, moving to kiss you, but he stopped right before your lips touched, waiting for you to make the final move. And, oh, how you wanted to. You'd fallen for him practically the moment you'd met him, and he'd known it. You didn't find out until too late that he could never have any affection for you. By then, he'd been fucking Susan behind your back, and you finally realized precisely the type of person he was. You'd convinced yourself after the team disbanded that you were over it, over him. Hell, even when he showed up at your door, you still almost kicked him out. And yet here you both were, after years of denial, scant inches apart, with him admitting he was jealous. Butcher pulled back slightly and tilted his head as he glared at you. "Cmon. Just admit it. Say you're mine." You glared back at him, anger and lust still pulsing through your veins. Finally, you groaned in frustration and reached up to pull him back in.

"Fuck you." You said and slammed into his lips in a harsh kiss. He matched your pace, pressing his body against you. You could feel him growing harder as you met again and again in rough and bruising kisses. A growl sounded deep in his chest as you tugged sharply on his hair. He pinned your wrists over your head with one hand before the other once again found its way beneath your skirt. You gasped and squirmed as he pulled the dress up before yanking your lacy thong down your legs. "Butcher-" He cut you off once again by slamming two fingers deep inside you, barely giving you any time to adjust before he was pumping them in and out at a brutal pace. You tugged against his hold on your wrists, trying to muffle the sounds escaping you, but he held firm and just moved to bite and suck at your neck, ignoring your pleas.

"How about I fuck you right here in this alleyway?" He growled in your ear. You whined as his thumb pressed hard against your clit. "Let the whole fucking world hear you moan for me," He continued his onslaught, driving you closer and closer to climax. Right as you were on the edge, he pulled away, leaving only his hand pinning your wrists. You bit your lip to stop from crying out and tried to focus back in. After a moment or two, you began to laugh breathlessly. "What the fuck's so funny?" He demanded.

"You say you own me, but who's the one begging to fuck me in an alleyway cause they got a little jealous when someone else played with their toy?" You said, relishing in the way his eyes flashed. Your laughter was stopped dead, though, as he leaned back in to resume sucking at your neck. You gasped as his hand slid into the top of your dress, palming your breast roughly.

"We need each other, luv." He pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers and moved to give other the same attention as you continued to squirm. He chuckled as you stepped around awkwardly, your movements hampered by your thong still caught around your knees. "Having problems there?" You carefully dropped your head back against the wall and groaned.

"For fucks sake Butcher if you're gonna do something get on with it." You huffed. He pulled back to look at you, smug grin out in full force.

"Why? If you're not desperate for me, you can just run inside to your little twat and let him satisfy you. Ey?" He pulled your breasts free from your dress as he spoke, and you didn't have time to think before his lips were closing around a hardening peak. You moaned and arched your back into him, and he palmed and kneaded the other before switching sides.

"Butcher for the love of all that is holy-" He pulled off you, leaving his hand in place as he spoke.

"You want me to fuck you?" He smirked.

"Either that or let me go find someone who will," You yelped as he groped you hard. "FuCk! Please! I-" You screwed your eyes shut. "I need you." He finally released your wrists and slammed back into your lips. You reached down to step out of your thong, intending to just throw it somewhere, but he grabbed it from your hand and stuck it in his coat. Too far gone to care, you pulled him back in, fumbling with his pants' fastenings. Finally, you pulled his throbbing cock free, and he groaned as you gave him a few strokes. "Whose cock is this, Butch?" You said mockingly. He glared at you and pulled your hand off before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a foil packet. He tore it open and rolled the condom on quickly before grabbing your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively and hissed as he brushed against you.

"Whose cunt am I about to destroy?" He snarked as he moved to where the wall was taking most of your weight, freeing his hand to guide himself into you. You whined and clung to his shoulders as he filled and stretched you inch by delicious inch. Before he could move, the sound of the door slamming open had you scrambling in panic. Butcher only pushed further into you, moving in close enough to cover your exposed body with his coat as a whimper escaped you.

"(Y/fake/n)?" It was the scientist, and Butcher let out a huff at the sound of his voice. You willed the man to just go away, but his voice only drew nearer. "Hey, Brit! You scare my pussy away?"

Ah shit

Butcher made a noise akin to an animalistic growl and pulled his hips back, so only the tip remained inside you. He locked eyes with you, and you shook your head at him, but it was no use as he called over his shoulder.

"Sorry, mate," Butcher said. He slammed his hips back forward, drawing a desperate gasp from your lips. "She's busy." Your eyes slammed shut in mortification, and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Butcher smirked against your neck as his plan worked, the man cussing him out but finally leaving. As you heard the door open and close, you considered smacking the smug bastard. Right as you opened your mouth to speak though Butcher repeated his action, drawing another cry from you.

"B-butcher-" You whimpered, and he tsked before slamming into you three more times, making you claw at his shoulders and cry out.

"Nowhere near loud enough, love." He dropped his head to your neck, biting and sucking marks as he gripped your ass tighter and pounded you into the wall. "I want to hear you scream." Your fingers continued to dig into his shoulders as each thrust drove you higher and higher. "Fuck." He swore and began to pick up his pace. You gasped and whimpered incoherent syllables mixed with pleading his name as a fire started to form in your core.

He may be a madman, but every move of his hips, every touch of his fingers, and kiss from his lips seemed to be perfectly thought out to drive you to the brink of insanity. Someone could have walked right up to the two of you, and you doubt you would have cared, too consumed with the pleasure zapping through every cell of your body like lightning. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could convince you to give in to him with barely any effort at all. Yes, Billy Butcher was crazy, but not a single part of you cared as the spark in your core ignited, and you muffled your scream in his shoulder. Butcher groaned as you clenched around him, and doubled his efforts, panting hard as you begged him to let you have a moment to recover. It was pointless though, already the coil was beginning to tighten again, and this time when you came, your whole body shook, and it took all of his strength to keep you both from falling as you squeezed his own orgasm from him. He quickly slid out of you and stood you on your feet as you both gasped for air, the aftershocks jolting you into whimpering. You eventually managed to regain your brain function, quickly fixing your dress and hair before holding your hand out towards Butcher. "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"You know what. Give me my panties." You said indignantly. He tilted his head and grinned at you. "Ugh. Perv." His grin turned predatory as he turned to walk towards his car, reaching in his jacket to pull them out and dangle them off a finger.

"You're not gonna need them tonight, luv."

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Tags (as always if you’d like to be removed or if I forgot you feel free to yell at me. If you’d like to be added, click here):

@bakerstreethound @bookscoffeeandracoons @becs-bunker @lt-trick @billybutchersbabe @emily-strange @below-average-fangirl @brideofedoras @nora-hewlett @im-like-reallythirsty @fairytale07 @waaaaaaitwhat @rayray1463 @mblaqgi

#billy butcher x reader #smut #language #honestly i just need to dip this blog in holy water at this point

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writingtoforgetreality · 5 years

Text

I‘ll make you believe in yourself again (Derek Hale x Reader)

Summary: Your parents pressure you into having good grades, not caring about you or your friends. They simply want you to be successful. One night, after a pack meeting, things escalate between you & your parents & the first person you thought about running to was him., [Teen Wolf-Masterlist]

Words: 2,719

Warnings: verbal abusive parents, angst, fluff, sadness, soft Derek (Is this a warning? It is now.), cursing but that‘s bc it‘s me

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

To say school had been stressful lately would be an understatement. You had essays to write, tests to study for & homework to finish. Teachers were always content with you though since you were one of the only students who payed attention, studied hard & always gave 100%. Spending time with your friends was rare but ever since you had been involved with the pack, you had been quite busy with helping them. You were human but a smart one at that. The pack simply was not complete without you.

Seems peachy, am I right? So thinks everyone. You just did not spill your problems to your friends, thinking they had better things to take care of. Matter of fact, every time you were with the pack was like an escape from your reality. You were finally able to accomplish stuff that was appreciated by everybody. This is why, whenever you told your parents you would be studying with Scott & Stiles, you were actually at a pack meeting, school completely forgotten.

Here is the thing: your parents. Even though they were hardly ever at home, they managed to create a living hell for you. The pressure they put on you was almost unbearable yet you wanted to make them feel proud. To make them feel like their child was not a complete fuck-up. Your mom & dad often were on business trips, you did not even know what they were doing on such trips & you did not want to ask either. All you knew is that, when your parents were at home, they always found a reason to scream at you & call you names. They wanted their kid to be the most successful of everyone. They wanted their kid to write straight A‘s. For a long time you had managed to do exactly this. Then the pack came along & you started to focus more on their tasks. It was more important, you helped saving lives. Of course your parents did not know this & you never meant on telling them.

Friday. Your favorite day of the week. You got up, went to the bathroom, picked out a nice outfit & packed your stuff to head to school. Your parents would not come back until Sunday so you could hang out with your friends the entire weekend. Your third period was chemistry. You had the class with Scott & Stiles, your best friends. When you found out about Scott being a werewolf, you were not scared, as someone would think. You were amazed & wanted to find out more about it. He was the one who introduced you to Derek. The oh so emotionless Derek Hale. You thought he hated you at first. He gave you the impression that he was fed up with you, reminding you of your own parents. You became more quiet every time he was around. Yet it did not stop you from having a crush on him. Derek actually enjoyed your company but of course he tried to push his emotions down. He would not get close to someone again. Still, he noticed when you grew more distant, he always had an eye on you but would not let you know.

Anyway, chemistry. Last time you wrote a test but you had not studied as much. Chemistry was one of your favorite subjects so you had never studied that much. You still managed to get a C which made you proud. You knew your parents would not be back today so you planned on not telling them about your grade.

As your last period was over, you went to your locker, meeting up with Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia & Allison. You would all meet at Derek‘s Loft in three hours so you got home, put your test on the kitchen table, meaning to put it away later, & made your way up to your room. Opening your drawer, you searched for comfy clothes & put them on. You decided on a big red jersey shirt & grey sweatpants. Pack meetings at Friday‘s always meant a movie night afterwards, your favorite.

You made your way to Derek, not caring to take your bike, you liked walking & the way to his loft was not that long. Arriving in front of his door, you wanted to knock but before you had the chance to do so, the door flung open, revealing a sternly looking Derek. He could sense you were here already & was a bit too eager to see you. You smiled shyly at him, focusing your eyes down at your feet. Derek shot you a smirk back but he knew you did not see it.

"Hi there.“ he said with his intimidating, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

„H- Hi, Derek.“ you replied, your voice shaking, making you cringe.

Derek stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. Surprisingly, you were the first one to arrive. Usually this did not happen, you were not as comfortable when you were alone with him so you always made sure that at least someone else was there already. You did not check the time though, way too excited for tonight.

"Can I bring you anything? (Y/N)?“ Derek asked, noticing you were not really paying attention.

"Um...actually, I‘m fine for now, thanks.“ you started blushing. The things this man could do to you.

"The others should be here soon. Make yourself as comfortable as possible, I know you don‘t like me that much. I don’t know if I scare you or anything but at least try to calm down a bit. I know your heart is beating faster than usual.“ Derek stated.

"Why would you think I‘m scared of you?“ you were taken aback by his statement. You thought he was the one who despised you.

"It‘s quite obvious, (Y/N)...You hardly ever talk to me, avoid my gaze & your heart doesn’t sound healthy at all when you’re around, like...ever.“ Derek said, his words somehow seeming hurt. Something you were not used to from him.

"I‘m sorry, I jus-" you actually were about to tell him why you behaved that way around him but before you had the chance to do so the door flung open, the others entering the loft. You shot a last look at Derek, eyes desperate to let him know & he knew something was up but now would not be the time.

You were all gathered around Derek‘s table, sheets spread across it. This was harder than you all thought it would be. After hours of what seemed like useless research you decided to wrap it up for today, settling up the movie night. Derek made popcorn & Stiles set up the movie. He chose Star Wars, of course he did. You were sitting at the end of the couch, this being your favorite place in Derek‘s loft. Before you could react, Derek places himself right next to you, offering you popcorn. You happily took some, starting to eat it. You could feel your heart picking up its pace & you knew Derek could feel it too. Anyway, you tried to ignore it & focused on the screen in front of you.

As the movie went on, you grew more & more tired. Your head leaning on Derek‘s shoulder. You did not really notice but he stirred, this being completely new to him. After a few minutes, he relaxed a bit more, draping his arm across your body. You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the closeness you two shared.

By the time the movie was over, you fell asleep on Derek‘s shoulder. The others already bid their goodbyes, silently making their way out of the loft, trying not to wake you. Then it was just you & him, alone. The moonlight let your face lit up in such a beautiful way. He admired your sleeping form, feeling happy you finally found your peace even though he was next to you. Your heartbeat was steady & peaceful. As much as he hated it, he had to wake you. You have to go back home, get some more sleep & meet up with the pack tomorrow.

"(Y/N)? Hey, (Y/N), wake up.“ Derek whispered.

You groaned, not wanting to leave your comfortable position.

"Come on, you have to head back home, we have to work some more tomorrow.“ Derek said lovely. Oh how much you admired this side of him. You felt safe within his arms, something you have not felt in a long, long time.

"What time is it?“ you opened your (Y/E) eyes & looked at him through your lashes. He could have kissed you right then & there but it would not have been the right time. He will get the chance someday...hopefully.

"11 pm, it‘s time you go to your bed.“ Derek answered, not wanting to let you go but knowing he had to. You started to get up, stretched & searched for your jacket. This was when you realized that you did not wear a jacket, just your jersey shirt. Derek already knew this so he handed you one of his jackets to throw over.

"Thanks.“

"No problem. Do you want me to bring you home?“ Derek asked concerned.

"Nah, I‘ll be fine, it‘s not far. Thanks though.“ you moved to his door. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you.“ Derek watched you leave. He then smiled to himself. So you were not scared of him. Maybe you all were just too oblivious to realize. Maybe everything will turn out to be fine in the end.

Standing at your front door, you searched for your keys. When you found them, you opened the door, stepping inside. You were surprised when you saw a light inside. You could have sworn you had switched off the lights before leaving. Maybe you had forgot one. Stepping into your leaving room you let out a short scream. Your mom & dad were sitting on the couch, looking quite angry. Why were they back already? It was not Sunday?

"Oh so you did decide to show up?“ your dad mocked.

"I think we made it clear that you are not allowed to go out except when you‘re studying. By the way...what is THIS?!“ your mother raised her voice at the end. You flinched away, knowing what was about to happen. Your mom held your chemistry test in front of your face, a look of pure anger & disappointment on her face.

"I- I can explain. It was a surpr-"

"CUT IT!“ your dad chimed in. Again you flinched away, trying to step back until your back hit a wall. This will not end well.

"You really don’t get it, do you?“ your mom asked. "We want you to be better but all you do is fuck things up. You‘re such a useless little bitch. You know what? Whenever someone asks me if I have kids I tell them no because I would be ashamed to talk about your pathetic ass.“ with each word her voice became louder & louder. Tears were streaming down your face. You did not understand why your parents treated you that way but you started to believe their words.

"I wish I wouldn’t be your father. You‘re the worst kid one can have. I HATE YOU, WE HATE YOU!!“ your father screamed. By now you were seriously scared they were about to hit you. They never really laid a hand on you but they had never been this angry before.

"I‘m sorry, I‘ll try to be bett-"

"Leave.“ your dad said dangerously low.

"W- What?“ you could not believe what you just heard. They wanted to kick you out. Yeah, they were verbally abusive but they were your parents. Your parents who were supposed to love you.

"LEAVE YOU STUPID BITCH."

This was all it took for you to turn around & sprint out of your, well not anymore, house. You did not even care to take your belongings. To be honest, you had nothing that really kept you there in the first place. You should have been glad, you were finally free. Free of your parents. That did not stop your from crying.

Without knowing where your feet dragged you, you only stopped running when you saw a big familiar building. Your tears blurred your vision but you knew exactly where you were. Derek‘s loft. You contemplated if you really should head in. Why would Derek want to deal with you anyway? Your parents were right, you were a fuck up, useless, pathetic. But where else could you possibly go? It was only then when you realized that it had been raining. Your clothes were drenched & you started shaking because of the cold.

You did not care. You were standing in front of his door, deciding to finally knock. You knocked for about three times, slowly losing hope. Derek was probably asleep. Maybe it was better that way. When you started turning around you heard the door squeaking.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here? Are you okay?“ Derek asked, concerning features crossing his face.

"I- I‘m-" you could not finish because your voice started to break. Derek took you in for a hug immediately. You held onto him like your life depended on it & cried into his chest.

"I‘ve got you, sweetie. I‘m here.“, (Y/N).“ Derek soothed you. Somehow his words made you cry even more but not in a bad way. You were so glad he was the one you were going to. How you ended up on his couch? You did not know. Eventually your tears stopped & you calmed down, exhausted by everything that had happened to you that night.

"I‘m sorry, Derek. I just...I didn’t know where to go.“

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?“

"Okay..." you breathed. "My parents, they have been obsessed with my grades for as long as I can remember. It all started out with them being disappointed but it got worse. They started calling me names, screaming at me whenever I didn’t get an A. Derek, they made my life a living hell. When I got back home, they were waiting for me, my chemistry test in my mom‘s hands. They started screaming, they scared me & then all of a sudden they told me to leave.“

Derek needed a few seconds to let your words sink in. Before he could speak up, you continued.

"I started to believe their words. Them calling me pathetic, useless...a disappointment. So when we first met & you acted quite cold towards me I thought you‘d think the same as my parents. I didn’t wanna bother you, that‘s why I kept quiet whenever you were around. Truth is, I‘ve been scared, Derek. I am so so scared.“ you confessed.

"Shhh, I‘m here. If I had known I would‘ve said something way sooner. I simply thought you hated me but as a matter of fact, I always had an eye on you & saw you slowly disappearing. (Y/N), you‘re not alone. You don’t need to be scared. You‘re safe with me.“ he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I don’t know what to do...I have nowhere to go. I have nothing, Derek."

"You have me, sweetheart. I‘m right here. You‘ll be staying with me, okay? We‘re gonna get through this together. I‘ll make you believe in yourself again, I promise." he said sincerely.

"The thing is...I can’t be saved. How will you make me believe in myself again?"

"Well, for starters, I believe in you.“ Derek looked into your (Y/E) eyes.

"Why though?" you asked?

Derek slowly leaned in, searching for any rejection. When he saw you did not move, he put his soft lips onto your own, moving in sync. When Derek could not make you believe with his words, he would try to make you believe with his actions. You scooted closer to him if that was possible at this point. After your kiss, you stayed close together, simply enjoying each other’s company.

"And I thought you hated me." you whispered.

"And I thought YOU hated me.“ Derek chuckled. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything was meant to turn out like this. For now, you felt safer than ever, in the arms of Derek. Derek, who would try everything to keep you happy. Forever.

Published 02/29/2020 by Cathy

410 notes · View notes

wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Feel Good

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: lots o drinking (its new years!), mentions to being nervous/self-doubt, drunk sam wilson, perhaps some smooching idk guess u gotta read it man

A/N: ngl I have like 4 cheek to cheek one shots that I wrote yesterday instead of working on school work or art commissions so lets enjoy this before that motivation spark dies okay enjoy my two fav ppl ever

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Agent 51, stay behind, please.”

You meet Sam’s eye, confused for two reasons - this was supposed to be a quick debriefing after a mission, and he’s never called you out specifically before. You give him a nod and obligatory Yes, Captain before making eyes with Sharon, who gives you a quick smile before exiting the room with the other agents. That doesn’t give you anything. Is there already another mission? But if there was another mission, wouldn’t Sharon have stayed? Wouldn’t Bucky be here? Does it involve Bucky? Does-

“I want you to start training with the other recruits when they begin next week.” Sam informs you once the door closes behind the last person.

Oh.

This Friday is New Year’s Eve, meaning Monday begins the seven-week training led by Sergeant Barnes for wannabe Avengers Agents, before whoever remains continues on to undercover and psychological training with Sharon and other legendary retired agents of the field.

“Are you... sure?” You didn’t think there was a problem with the training you were currently doing with Sam, in fact, you thought you were doing pretty good for someone who hasn't followed a strict workout regimen in ten years. This would be the first time being around so many people with a greater chance of interacting. All of the meetings you go to have made you a little more comfortable with larger crowds, but you haven’t actually spoken to anyone.

“You know your file well?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, I’m sure.”

“I want you to continue your training with me on the weekends, though.” Sam adds.

Working out seven days a week? I might’ve considered prison if I knew this was a part of the deal.

“Won’t all of that all the time be hard?” You offer, suddenly scared for your biceps and hamstrings.

“Are you asking me if training to become a team member of the Avengers is hard?” Sam gives you a pointed look.

“...Right.” You stand, assuming that was all he had to tell you about.

“Also, there’s a little party Friday night. Nothing crazy, just me, Sharon, Bucky, Sharon and I are bringing some dates, maybe a few agents, but they usually go out and party. They don’t want to hang out with us more than they already have to around here.” He mentions as you reach the door.

Your hand pauses on the knob. A party. What if they pull some Carrie shit on you?

“A party?” You ask, eyebrows failing to conceal your silent fears as they tilt upward at him.

“I promise, it won’t be anything insane. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t think it was something you could handle.” He reassures.

Friday comes sooner than you’d hoped, and your anxiety still lingers, as much as you’d hoped it’d go away by now. You glance at the time, 8:00 in the evening. This was the time Sam told you everything would more or less be starting, but that you could go whenever you wanted, if you wanted.

You’ve actually been ready for about an hour, just too scared to go to the common area where everything was taking place.

You feel like you’re a teenager again; being invited to an event where you feel as though you won’t belong. An event where you know that everyone is so drastically different than you. You wonder how you would feel if you were different; if you weren’t so fucked up with trauma. Would you be a party person? Drinking and dancing through your twenties? Hooking up with men and women, maybe even having relationships?

You’re dressed in a short lilac romper, layers of silky ruffles around the tops of your thighs, and thin straps across your shoulders that cross against your back. The neckline is a tad low, a complimenting V that you’ve filled with layers of necklaces. Nude platforms put you about two inches taller without the fear of a heel, and you’re nervously picking at your recently painted green fingernails in anticipation for what the night will bring.

It’s not too late to not go. You can just tell Sam you ended up not feeling well, tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. not to let anyone bother you. Just take all these clothes off and put on your pajamas, and we can pretend you haven’t been thinking about this night for the last three days and spent all day thinking about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to act, reviewing your file just in case anyone asks you anything - we can just pretend you were going to be staying in the whole time.

You stand to begin slipping the straps from your shoulders, mind made up, when a knock sounds at the door.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., who is that?” You whisper out.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes, Agent.” The A.I. relays in an equally hushed voice.

You sigh and walk over to the door before opening it a few inches.

“Hey! You look so cute! Party’s getting started, let's go!” He steps back out to the hallway, an excited smile on his face which drops when he focuses more on the frown that decorates your own face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, immediately stepping back towards you.

“... I’m nervous.” You all but whimper out. Why do you have to be such a baby?

“Why are you nervous?” Bucky asks, his voice calm as he genuinely wants to know what’s troubling you, not an accusatory tone found in his voice.

“Because there’s going to be a lot of people, and I don’t know anyone, and I’ve never been to these kinds of parties, or at least I haven’t in, like, a decade.” You ramble, exasperated with yourself.

“Would it make you feel better if I stayed with you the whole night? Either here or down at the party?” He offers, ready to give up one of his favorite nights for you.

“Bucky, I’m not going to make you -”

“You’re not making me, I’m offering. Besides, Sam’s all over the girl he brought and Sharon’s halfway drunk with her little boyfriend; they’re not going to be much fun for me tonight.” Bucky justifies, sounding like the eldest of three having to deal with their younger siblings.

“C’mon, you’re really gonna waste a dress like that? And your hair looks all nice! And - wait a minute, are those new earrings?” Bucky butters you, showering you with compliments in a sweet tone, metal hand reaching out to touch at the earrings hanging from your ears, the small tink sounding right in your ear.

A girlish giggle escapes you at his teasing. “Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me. But you promise you don’t mind staying with me all night?”

“I promise, there’s no one else I’d rather spend the night with.”

The common area isn’t how you expected it to be; there’s definitely more people than Sam promised there’d be, but it’s not the thousands of strangers you’d imagined in your head.

“Let’s get a drink,” Bucky’s deep voice speaks in your ear, and you’re not sure if it's his voice that makes you shiver or his warm hand in yours, but the two of you make your way to the bar.

“What do you drink?” He asks you, after ordering the name of some drink for himself.

“Uhm - I don’t, I don’t know.” You mutter to him. He scans your face for a second before rattling off the name of some other drink to the person behind the bar.

You never really drank; sure, you had the shitty beer as a teenager or perhaps a celebratory shot during your time in the Navy, but nothing you remember explicitly. You weren’t even old enough to drink in the Navy, you had turned twenty-one when you were already with HYDRA.

“Are you excited?” Bucky interrupts your thoughts of lost childhood.

“Excited?”

“For the New Year!” Bucky exclaims, and you give him a smile even if you don't understand the hoop-lah.

“Sure?” You offer.

“C’mon! There’s so much opportunity and promise that comes with a new year! A million chances to grow, to experience things, to learn, to have fun. A new chapter for everyone.” He explains.

You smile at his positivity. A new year should be good for you based on his logic. A new chapter. You’d be starting your training. Getting ahead as an agent. Using your powers to help for good. Maybe making friends. Maybe getting closer to Bucky.

The drinks arrive and you appreciate that Bucky knows you so well; the drink in front of you is bright pink, different fruits crowded around the rim with a curly straw sticking out. His is a deeper brown, in a short, crystal glass, figures. Matches his whole dark and emo aesthetic. He stands before you in black jeans and a black buttoned shirt, black leather jacket to sit on top.

You take a sip of your drink and immediately have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from spitting it out. Am I that much of a lightweight or is there actual gasoline in this?

“Sorry, maybe I should’ve warned you, babe,” Bucky chuckles, amused at your reaction to a mixed drink. “I think there’s, like, four different things in that.” He wants to cringe for you, but all he can do is look at you with a cheeky smile while you struggle to swallow the sip down.

“Christ, Bucky, I’ll blackout by ten at this rate, are all of the drinks like this?”

“Honestly? Probably. Everyone loves getting drunk on New Year’s.”

…

The night is not nearly as bad as you were thinking it was going to be. The room is lit up in different colored lights and screens; all of the TV’s display the annual countdown in Times Square but are muted so that music can be played the whole night. People are dancing, drinking, laughing, having the most fun you’ve seen people have in a long time. It’s 11:51 now, and everyone’s gathering closer and closer in anticipation for the countdown into the new year.

You and Bucky are gathered together with Sam and Sharon, and their respective dates. You don’t think you’ll let Sam live down how drunk he is; you never thought you’d feel so much joy seeing your Captain slurring his words while making jokes and telling stories.

Sharon leans over to you and whispers, a gentle hand on your arm, “Can you come to the bathroom with me?” A small giggle escaping her because she, too, is equally drunk. You give her a nod and hand your drink to Bucky to watch over while you’re gone.

The bathroom makes your ears buzz with the silence you encounter and Sharon walks over to the mirror to retouch her makeup.

“I just needed a little breather, have you tried the drinks at the bar?” She asks, and you laugh knowing that that’s the reason she, and everyone else at the party, is wasted.

“Yeah, Bucky proceeded to warn me after I had started drinking.” Laughs are shared as she reapplies her lipstick, a bright red shade.

“Do you know who you’re gonna kiss tonight?” She asks, smirk playing on her lips.

Shit, I forgot about that. How awkward would it be if you’re the only one not having a partner to kiss at midnight? Don’t worry, plenty of lame, single, psychotic basket cases that hear voices don’t kiss people on New Year’s Eve!

“Oh, uhm, I probably won’t be kissing anybody.” You inform her with a nervous laugh.

“I think you should kiss Bucky.” She states matter-of-factly.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, why not? He’s not here with a date and he surely won’t kiss a stranger. I think last year Sam ended up planting one on him at midnight.” She laughs, a few hiccups interrupting her as she remembers that night.

As much as you want to join her in laughing at the thought of Sam drunkenly grabbing Bucky cheeks at midnight and smooching him, a pit opens up in your stomach at the thought of kissing Bucky.

“C’mon, T-minus five minutes.” Sharon tells you, interlocking her fingers with yours as she drags you back out to the common room.

The two of you rejoin the group and Bucky hands you your drink back, though you don’t feel much like drinking anymore, stomach suddenly knotted up with nerves. You’re torn because you don’t necessarily have a problem not kissing anybody, but now all you can think about is the urge to press your lips against Bucky’s, new year or not.

A husky voice whispers in your ear, “You okay? You look a little pale, you wanna head up to your room?” Bucky looks at you with concerned eyes, willing to go up to your room two minutes before midnight to ensure your comfort and wellbeing.

“I’m… I’m fine.” You reassure him, giving him the most unconvincing smile ever, even you wouldn’t believe you. He silently pulls you away from the group and pulls you into a hallway.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

His pet names are, for once, not helping right now.

You take a large gulp of your drink, stinging a bit, but hopefully it’ll give you some courage and relax you a bit. Bucky chuckles and gently takes the glass from your hand, “Hey,”

“I’m fine, just have some jitters, is all.” You try and convince.

You take the drink back and grab his hand with your open one and take him back out to the open area, a sixty second countdown already starting.

You quickly down the rest of your drink and discard it on a nearby table as the entire room begins chanting. Sam is the loudest, one arm wrapped around the waist of his date and the other wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky’s smiling at his enthusiasm, yelling the numbers just as loud as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to bring you in closer to the group. Sharon is on the other side of you, but her focus is on her date as they look into each other’s eyes, just waiting for the clock to strike twelve so they can share a kiss.

The ball drops on the TV and the room erupts in cheers and “Happy New Year!”’s. Sam unhooks himself from Bucky and turns to grab his date's face as they share a laugh-filled kiss. You glance at Sharon and you suspect her and her date began sharing kisses a few seconds early. Bucky’s arm is still wrapped around your shoulders and he tugs you closer so you’re face to face.

His grin is wide, “Happy New Year -”

His excitement is interrupted as your courage finally kicks in, and with a hand on either side of his face, you pull him in and press your lips to his.

It takes him less than two seconds to reciprocate, dropping his hands to your waist and pulling you closer as your hands slide from his cheeks to his neck, wrapping themselves around.

There’s no more anxiety. No more nerves. No more doubts or second-thoughts. No more voices, no more people in the room, no more music; it’s just you and Bucky in that moment.

His lips are soft and sweet, a strong taste of the drinks he’s had tonight with a mix of sweetness that’s all him. He smells like man and like Bucky and your senses are overwhelmed in the best way possible. Tingles travel down your spine at the feeling of being so close to him.

You’re so, so, so good. Sure, Bucky’s imagined kissing you, but he never thought it’d feel like this. You’re sweet like cherries and you’re soft all over and your perfume is flooding his nose and it’s all he wants to breathe for the rest of time. Your skin sends sparks of fire through his fingertips as they rest on your bare back and slide down to your silk-covered waist.

You pull away and Bucky sneaks a few extra pecks before pulling away completely, not removing his eyes from yours.

“Happy New Year.” He wishes you with a love-sick smile.

“Happy New -”

“Happy New Year, Tinman!” Sam yelps in both of your ears, arms wrapping around Bucky and disconnecting him from you, but you can’t help but laugh at Sam trying to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek while he attempts to wrestle him off.

You feel electricity all over watching him, butterflies not only in your stomach, but all over your body, in every organ, in your bloodstream, in your head, everywhere. But as much as you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning, you feel good; you feel really good.

A few months ago, you wouldn't have imagined that this is how you were going to be starting the new year. But here you are, and you feel good.

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes fan fiction #marvel #marvel fan fiction #he he kissy kissy #you know those tik toks of people kissing their best friends with electric love playing in the background #that was reader and bucky #so ~magical~

101 notes · View notes

cordonian-literature · 4 years

Text

wip wednesday :)

hi y’all so i wasn’t tagged (whoops broke the rules) and it’s still kinda early in the day but i wanted to make this post because i’ve been working on a few other fics and wanted to share :)

i’ve been finishing up Aftermath - the reason it’s taking me so long to post chapters is because i initially had a very sad ending planned. i weeped when i was rereading it because i’ve gotten emotionally attached to the characters (what a surprise) and am now rewriting a happier ending. i think there’s like... 3 chapters left (don’t quote me on that, i’m a mess and it could change, but its unlikely).

there’s also two other fic ideas that i had. the first one kinda throws canon out the window - but there are still some elements, like Bertrand and Savannah’s relationship (though it’s extremely altered), the assassination with Olivia’s parents, Godfrey & Barthelemy’s treason... it’s just changed, like Queen Eleanor’s story is different, Leo doesn’t abdicate, Liam and Drake never really became best friends, and MC (Klara/Claire Brooks) leads a double life, keeping both men (and families) away from each other

the second one throws TRH 3 in the trash (even though it already is kinda trash, haha). this would take place during the last chapter of TRH 2 and throw the whole vote stuff out the window - because the farther we go with that, the less it makes sense. basically, Auvernal kidnaps the heir, Barthelemy is involved in it, and Liam and MC (i’m keeping her as Riley Brooks for this one) along with the gang do everything they can to get her back (obviously why wouldn’t they). i thought it would be interesting putting a part of it in the heir’s point of view, since those were kinda funny in some of the recent chapters. nothing too dark or serious (i mean yeah the heir getting kidnapped is serious, but you know what i mean. besides that, there are no major trigger warnings)

both these fics will most likely flop, but i had fun with these ideas and wanted to share

so here we go

✦✧✦✧✦

The Aftermath - Chapter 32

When Bastien enters, his eyes widen as they rest on Boris. He gives Olivia a look.

“Drake,” she tells him, hoping that would be enough of an answer. Bastien frowns. Olivia didn’t know why Drake had done this either. The fool hadn’t given her any information as to what this man had done. Where was she even supposed to start?

Now she was really wishing she had called Jacob to give her a background check.

“So,” she begins, pacing in front of Boris. Bastien was at full attention, closely watching both of them. “What happened between you and Drake?”

Boris spits blood to the opposite side of the room. It drips down the wall. “Call the bastard in here. Tell him to explain.” His accent is thick and his voice is tried.

I probably should, she thinks to herself.

Bastien gives Olivia another look. She nods at him.

“Let us shift the conversation,” Bastien begins. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Lady Riley or her late husband?”

“How is that important?” Boris questions.

“Just curious.” Bastien’s voice remains level.

Boris sighs, then leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Potter. I met him in college. He introduced me to Riley-”

“I’m sorry,” Bastien interrupts him. “Who is ‘Potter’?”

“The lovely Theodore Blaise.” Boris lets out a rueful chuckle. “You have not seen him in person? The idiot looks like Harry Potter. Stupid glasses, stupid hair.”

“Alright,” Bastien stops him again. “Continue. When did he introduce you to Riley?”

“New York. That one year. I was visiting before I had to go to... Switzerland? Sweden? One of the two. It was lifetime ago. Can’t remember everything.” He pauses to look around the room. “She was... with your King. We saw her in the park. Theo wanted to see her. We waited for the king to leave her before he went up to her hotel.”

Olivia knew that he was talking about the last night Riley had been with the court. But Boris was drawing out the conversation. She didn’t like how slow Bastien was approaching this. Olivia wanted to draw a knife — she had a new one she was itching to use — and force the answers out of him.

✦✧✦✧✦

Until the End - Prologue

A/N: also i made a thing for this series. it’s not a moodboard. idk what its called. like a banner or whatever? i felt creative and made it. i’ll probably end up making a moodboard too. there are three parts of the series, each part has seven/eight chapters. anyway this looks kinda wack i might not even use it

As we near the stairs, Olivia Nevrakis chases after Maxwell Beaumont, who tumbles down the steps.

“Why are you running?!” Olivia cries after the boy, a long object in her hand.

“Because you have a stick!” he cries after almost tripping over his short, chubby legs.

“What am I gonna do, hit you with it?”

“YES?!” Maxwell screams, a confused and fearful tone in his voice.

As the two reach the bottom of the stairs, Liam emerges from another corridor, laughing after his friends. His hair is a whorl on his head, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Hello, Mother!” he says. My son hugs my waist, then reaches to hug his father, but Constantine has already walked on.

I take the boy’s hand and we follow after the King. Near the entrance of the palace stands a man in guard’s uniform, a woman in a denim dress, and two small children.

“Eleanor, Liam,” Constantine begins. “I would like for you two to be introduced to a new member of our security team. Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca, and their children, Drake and Savannah.”

“A pleasure, Your Majesties,” Jackson says as he and his wife bow respectfully. The little girl blinks up at me while Drake looks between Liam and I.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Liam!” My son holds out his hand to Drake.

Constantine audibly coughs. Liam’s hand falls to his side, and his smile falls as well. I knew that the differences in status would not allow Liam to interact with the boy so improperly, but they are just children. I didn’t think there was a reason for such excessive formality.

Bianca slightly nudges her son. In a monotone voice, Drake greets, “Nice to meet you, Prince Liam.”

Liam’s expression lifts. I send a smile in Bianca’s direction, and she hesitantly returns it. Jackson holds eye contact with me a moment longer, a wide grin stretching his face.

Constantine grabs our attention again. “Jackson, you will be primarily working on my wife’s security team. Now if you’ll excuse us, we are expected at dinner. My head of security, Bastien, will lead you through the rest of your orientation. After dinner, you’ll be able to speak to my wife and receive any orders she has for you.”

“Yes, Sire,” Jackson bows his head again, and Constantine leads us away.

Godfrey and his family, along with the Beaumonts, Olivia, and Leo are already seated. They all stand quickly as Constantine comes into the room, giving polite bows.

The moment we sit, there’s a flurry of activity as the servants set our plates in front of us. Adelaide sips on her wine absently. Annabelle fusses over Maxwell, who has cookie crumbs on his fingers and face. Madeleine attempts to get Leo’s attention, but he laughs with Bertrand, the boys giving each other impish smiles. Olivia converses with Liam, taking on a gentle demeanor compared to how she behaved with Maxwell.

“Hostilities between Monterisso and Auvernal are increasing by the day,” I hear Godfrey mention to Constantine.

“The whole of Europe expects them to break out in war,” Barthelemy adds.

“Monterissian and Auvernese citizens anticipate some sort of peace treaty,” Godfrey continues. The men speak as if they are one unit, with one mind. “But other nations have already begun taking sides.”

“The King of Hidar is siding with Monterisso.” Barthelemy motions for a servant to bring him more wine. “But there are rumors that he is only doing so after receiving threats.”

“Most nations are waiting for Cordonia and Monaco for their decisions for who to ally with.”

When Barthelemy and Godfrey finish filling Constantine’s ears, they return to the food on their plates, staring down as if nothing else in the world concerned them. Constantine chews slowly, visibly considering their words.

“Monterisso has always kept a neutral face when it comes to Cordonian issues,” the King mentions. “They have never asked or hinted towards alliance. They are not many nations who ally with them at all.”

“So you must admit,” Barthelemy finishes chewing, “that allying with them instead of Auvernal makes a bad impression—”

“—and reduces the chance of alliances with other nations,” Godfrey finishes with him.

“How so?” I speak up. The three men turn their heads to look at me. No one else at the table pays attention to the conversation, but as their eyes burn in my direction — aggressive looks from the Dukes, while my husband raises an eyebrow at me — I want to take back my words.

But I do no such thing. After more than seven years of marriage, I had become accustomed to Godfrey and Barthelmey shutting down the advice I gave to my husband. This instance is no different.

✦✧✦✧✦

The Lion and the Heir - short series - Prologue

A/N: just as a heads up, i laughed while writing this. like i wrote this just for a good laugh and wanted to share. my friend sent me a writing prompt about a kid’s wild imagination and she thought it was funny and sent it to me (i sent her this same passage and we both laughed our heads off reading parts of it) so what i’m trying to say is that thinking this is terrible and cringe-worthy is understandable - i cringed at this myself and am very scared to post this lol, and might not even continue it. yes i made a moodboard thing. yes i laughed while making it. goodbye.

"Is everything well, Mommy?" I ask. Instead of answering me, again she attempts to silence me! I repeat my question, but this time the man tells me to silent myself.

Did they not know who they were speaking to? Perhaps I was interrupting something. Was there a lesson to be learned somewhere in this? I wish that Daddy were present at this meeting. Though most of his explanations were gibberish, he would at least attempt to make me understand.

The man walks towards me. He reaches his hands out to carry me, but I do not know this man! And he was quite stinky! I do not like him. I smack his hands away, and he takes a step back.

"With all due respect," I try to explain to him, "please introduce yourself before any forward actions. They are most unwelcoming. Your Princess does not appreciate this behavior."

He turns to my suspicious mother and says something in gibberish. I frown, for the language barrier does not mean that my subjects may disobey my wishes in such a manner!

Suspicious Mommy takes off the shield that was over her eyes. I find that it is NOT Mommy! Though they look similar, their differences are too contrasting. This woman's eyes were a tad sharper. She was too aware of me, and did not seem comfortable in my presence.

"Shhh sh shhh," she goes again, trying to pick me up, but I allow my short legs to fall from under me. My behind hits the mattress, and I feel my friend, General Lion, against my hand.

"Is everything well, Your Highness?" my trusty General says to me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service?"

"Dismiss this woman from my presence!" I command him.

"But... but that is Mommy!" he cries.

This woman was good in her disguise. She had fooled my trusted advisor!

"Believe me, General, it is not!" I tell him. "She has fooled us!"

"And she is trying to take you away?" he observes.

"Yes!" I am suddenly aware of what is happening. The woman begins to reach for me. "Quick!" I say, panic swelling in my chest. I had to do something about this, but all my heart is telling me to do is cry! I have to take more serious measures than that! "What am I to do?"

"Uh... uh..." General Lion looks around the crib, before he reaches out to me. "Take a hold of my paw!"

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

putting my Aftermath taglist because that’s the only one i have :) - y’all can see what’s happening in the next chapter & these other fics. if you’re interested in any (besides Aftermath) let me know! if you don’t interact or anything, i’ll leave you on the Aftermath taglist and won’t remove or add you anywhere :)

(also, people probably know this but just a gentle reminder, the only reason i don’t reply to comments is because this is a sideblog. i see them all though, so don’t worry. i just don’t want to confuse people by replying from my main blog or anything :) anyway let me stop trailing off)

@captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly

^if anyone from this list wants to do the WIP Wednesday thing, feel free!!

#trr fanfic #wips

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mcrmadness · 4 years

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A Masterpost: ALL MY OLD die ärzte (aka Bela&Farin) COMICS (from 2010-2011)

I’ve lately been talking about my art, especially comics, here a lot but I have never posted my OLD old dä comics here! That’s about to change now. The old ones happened in 2010-2011 when I was 19-20 years old, so they are a bit cringy now :D The scans are my old ones so don’t mind about cat hair or something like that in some of the scans. And I know: my hand writing hasn’t really changed in the past 10-15 years at all :DD

And a slash warning (do I really need that with this fandom tho..?) because I used to draw just very fluffy Bela/Farin comics and they barely have any good plots even. There’s just 4 overall in this post and they all are quite short. But at least for me it’s fun to see how far I have come and how I’ve gotten better at drawing!

Anyway, without further ado, this is where it all started:

Bela&Farin - “Du willst mich küssen”

Simply the idea came from the fact I noticed that on the “Du willst mich küssen” single there’s only one additional song: “Die Antwort bist du”, and that one out of all the potential other songs from the studio album. (Now I’m wondering if I should try to redraw this some day to see my progress? :DD)

The rest under the cut because they get very cringy but if you want to read B/F fluff comics and facepalm at my idiotic humour, go ahead and click the read more link.

Bela&Farin - Bela will ein Baby

(eng. Bela wants to have a baby)

This one was the first I did in German and I traumatized myself. I had just started learning German and totally failed everything and an (old) online friend, native German, wrote something that indicated laughing and I felt so insecure about my German after that that even today I have a fear of saying/writing even simple German words in front of native Germans. She anyway “beta read” the plot and corrected every faulty phrase (aka every phrase) and this is what she suggested that I’d write, and that’s what I did.

The plot shortly: Bela just wants to have a baby but he wants it with Farin obviously, so Farin says they’re both men and can’t reproduce together but Bela found a solution: he found them a surrogate mother. Problem solved.

***

Bela&Farin - “Beer Belly”

Prepare yourself for a cringe overload :)) I’m so sorry that you have to suffer through this.

With this the idea came from the live videos I was watching back then - lots of live videos from 2007-2009 and I noticed that Bela just kept growing and losing his belly all the time. (OMG HELP I’m crying because “SQUEAK SQUEAK” XDDDDDD)

Also the ending is... I don’t know what is it. I guess I just wanted Rod ot make an appearance and didn’t come up anything better than this ::D My peak of humour is right there btw: anything that happens at the background. That shit just never gets old for me. So I find that still funny in this comic but I have no clue how a bass can be pregnant.

Also hey, I have started drawing shadows :DD

And yes, Bela actually did have a cow t-shirt like that in some of the videos and I just had to draw it! And btw, the reason for the fluff is probably because the concerts where those videos were from? It was extremely slashy, Bela and Farin barely could keep their hands off of each other so you really can’t blame me for all this. The ship just sails itself.

***

Bela&Farin - “Zucker”

(eng. “Sugar” - this one was again in German because it wouldn’t work in English. This time I think I did all the language stuff myself but I can’t remember for sure so maybe I got help, maybe I didn’t... This is the last one of these old comics and my personal favorite. You can see that my style somehow went through some major changes but I don’t know what even happened there. I can’t remember.)

I can’t get over Farin’s hair in the last panel, I drew it so perfectly and I still don’t know how to recreate that lol. And now I’m losing it at that tiny “XD” in the grin panel because I found it so stupid looking - the first time I had even drawn a grin for him lmao. Also ignore Farin’s arm that has suddenly lost all its color. (Aka: someone forgot to color it.)

THE IDEA for this comic is simply in the name of brown sugar. At least in Finnish that is called as “fariinisokeri”, which always amuses me still after 12 years because I am a bit simple sometimes, and I figured that it can also be called “Farinzucker” in German so of course I needed to make a Bela/Farin comic about it.

The dialog for those who don’t speak German (too well) yet - Bela just goes to Farin to ask for “Farin sugar” and Farin first is like “nope” but then “jk” and they lived happily ever after. Or something.

***

BONUS:

Something I drew with a ballpoint pen once when I was visiting my aunt and cousin and was bored and doodled this. I like drawing repeated patterns like brick walls or apparently also flowers.

And I have no idea where did I draw this - maybe it was something to do with one course through the employment agency as I tend to doodle when in any kind of class. I feel like I had been watching “Die band, die sie Pferd nannten” prior to this, based on Bela’s looks.

And it was back in 2010, I didn’t have a smart phone yet so no internet to use for reference photos :D

***

So, back to the comics - I only made these 4 back then but before this I did draw other stuff and comics too. I drew several of them as horses when I still didn’t know how to draw humans, and I also have one of them as rats too. The rat one might work as a redrawn human comic, tho... Anyway, at some point I got annoyed because I didn’t like drawing them as horses or rats and wanted to invent a “human style” so then one night, this happened:

The texts are mainly just me chanting how I’m dying from laughter etc. That is actually what I do when I am very insecure of what I do and then I just start openly laughing at everything and myself, that way things don’t feel as bad failures than what they actually are :D (And yeah I know the article is wrong at some point, let’s just say I hadn’t memorized all the article stuff from German yet :D I don’t know if I had even started learning German yet at that point.)

But yeah, then I did find the style and these are the next sketches from my sketchbook:

The bottom left says “facial experessions” - and oh my god I was so damn cringe whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy---

but anyway, those were what I ended up with eventually and the rest is history. I think I’m still gonna make one post with stuff I drew in 2018 and that I haven’t posted here yet as there’s still a few of those, too.

#mcrmadness draws #my dä comics #my fub comics #my old drawings #dä fanart #die ärzte #belafarin

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har-rison-s · 4 years

Text

hot chocolate

anonymous asked: hi! i was wondering if you wrote stuff for ron weasley or if you only wrote for the twins? if you do write for ron could you do a fluff piece? it could be abt anything honestly

a/n: thanks for this lovely request. i’ve never really wrote for ron, he was sort of a side character in one of my abandoned stories, but i’d love to explore him, this is wonderful for that. he’s my favourite out of the trio (though i can never really choose, ofc), we both hate spiders and love chicken and eating in general hahahah i feel like we’re so alike. ANYWAY, here is something fluffy with ron:) i chose quite the cliché setting, but i think it’s nice. nothing much romantic, bcs ron is a brother to me and i’d be uncomfortable with that, i’m sorry. it’s still fluff:) stay safe, enjoy. happy reading!

fyi: not proof-read, definitely gonna edit later :) (also it's short, sorry)

main masterlist

warnings: none!

The fireplace, which seemed always ablaze, was warming the remaining Gryffindor students’s feet with its fire. The students weren’t great in number, they were five in total because most were done studying late and had gone to bed already. Ron was keeping Y/N company while she studied for a test tomorrow that she shared with Hermione. But the Granger girl had already, of course, studied for it, so she had no problem on the night before.

It wasn’t like Y/N was stressed out of her mind, she was quite calm about the test, she just needed to revision a few topics. There were books and notebooks and random pieces of parchment scattered across their table’s surface. Ron was leaned back in his chair, rereading a book on Quidditch History for (Y/N was sure) the thousandth time already. Y/N’s forehead was on her hand as she continued to make her conspect on the farthest planets known to wizards.

“How’s it gooooing?” Ron asked from his chair. Y/N lifts her head up momentarily as a smile tugs at her lips, and she sighs to herself.

“Just fine.” She said and then looked at Ron properly, locking her hands together before her on the pile of books. He looked at her through his forehead, sort of, but never menacingly, only curiously. “How many times did the Cannons win the League again?”

Ron chuckled and glanced back down to his book, though he knew the fact so well that he’d tell it to you without struggle if you woke him in the middle of the night. “Twenty-one, but only in 1892.” He said. “Which is the farthest planet from ours?”

Y/N smiled wide. “D’you want the muggle truth or our truth?” She asked, resting her chin in her hand. Ron grinned wide. “Saturn, for the muggles.” She said, then. “But Alastar for us.” Ron’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I knew a bloke called Alastar…” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, he really looked like he was trying to remember. Y/N couldn’t figure out whether he was serious or not, and she chuckled. “D’you think the star’s named after ‘im?” She chuckled again.

“People are usually named after stars, not vice versa.” She pointed out. Ron leaned forward, his elbows on their table. He raised his eyebrows.

“But what if he discovered the planet?” He suggested and raised his index finger in the air. “Then it would be named after ‘im.”

Y/N smiled wide. “Wow, you’re better than my astronomy and history books.” She said, shaking her head and smiling wider with every second. Ron blushed and laughed and hung his big ginger head lower, not wanting her to see his blush. But she did, alright, and she had nothing to say about it other than that the blush was cute, to her, at least. But she didn’t care about anyone else. “That could be on the quiz.”

“What exactly? The question whether a star is named after a person or vice versa?” Ron precised and made her laugh again. He smiled. Y/N glanced down at her empty pink cup once her laughter had sort of died down, and she turned the cup around between her hands. “I think that needs refilling.”

She nodded at his empty orange cup with raised eyebrows, it was sitting next to hers. “Yours does, too.” She stated, and they both laughed again. They’re probably too tired, that’s why they’re laughing so frequently.

“Mine’s not empty, actually.” Ron said, lifting it up to his mouth. Y/N held her tongue with something to say right on the tip of it, and watched as Ron drank in the remaining of his hot chocolate. They both had got one for each from the kitchen before they came to their common room and started to study, and no wonder her cup was empty and his was—“Ah, it’s cold!” Ron retracted the cup and cringed expressively at what he’d drank. Cold hot chocolate was never pleasant, especially when you live somewhere with stone walls and floors, it gave you more chills. And especially when you’re tired and everything’s bound to get on your nerves. Y/N chuckled at his facial expression and took her pink cup between her hands. “Sure, laugh at my misery!” Ron complained, but she saw a smile tugging at his lips.

“Shall we go and get a refill?” She asked then, looking suggestively at Ron.

“What, now?”

“Yes, now, when else?”

Ron was hesitant. His voice quieted down to a whisper when he spoke, “I don’t think we should. Isn’t there a curfew or somethin’?”

Y/N shook her head. “There’s no curfew. And we’ll be quick, come on, everyone’s almost asleep, anyway.” She already rose to her feet, but Ron still sat in his chair. But she gave him her hand to motivate him to get up, and he did eventually.

“McGonagall’s gonna have our heads on sticks if she catches us.” Ron said as they walk through the common room’s entrance door. Y/N laughed quietly to herself, knowing how good the echo is in the Hogwarts castle, as she waited for Ron, her cup in hand.

“She won’t, trust me.” She assured him and took his hand again. Ron tried to match the speed of her feet that treaded so lightly on the stone steps of the moving stairs, and he started giggling after he’d almost fallen over. She hushed him and they continued their journey down to the kitchen.

Permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @beverlyparkerr @gasbomb69

#ron weasley x reader #ron weasley imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #har-rison-s imagine

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riftimagines · 4 years

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hello 💓 if you're accepting requests (feel free to ignore), I'd really appreciate it if you wrote something about sett. for a few weeks, his girlfriend avoids him because someone tells her that she is too much trouble for him after finding out she's hiding an eating disorder and self-harm from sett. she believes this person and decides it's realy the best if she just disappears from his life. sett finds out and immediately goes to find her? fluff and soft boi sett? 🥺❤ thank u ❤

I had actually did headcanons for this but it just got too long so I turned it into a one shot! I hope you don't mind that and you still like this!

Sett x Self-harming!Eating Disorder!Reader

Warnings: Trigger Warning, Attempted Suicide, Self Harm, Minor Character Death, Minor Blood, Minor Swearing.

Catching the eye of the infamous Ionian pit fighting ring boss seemed impossible but lo and behold one trip to the pits with some adventurous friends and now you hardly ever leave his side. Ever loving and charming in his own gruff way. He always made you feel normal and happy even on days where you didn’t feel right. When you felt empty and not enough food could fill it or even the thought of food made you want to throw up and never eat again he was there to make all the badness go away. Everything for once felt decently right and you could just live as best as you could with someone that actually loved you for you. Too bad that didn’t sit well with some of the more envious eyes.

A green monster’s eyes stare into the back of your head with bitterness. Why would their tough, strong, handsome boss care for such a weak, pathetic nobody like you? You weren’t even a fighter for deities sakes! So what made little worthless you so much better then them? They were stronger, better looking, and didn’t have weird eating problems. They just needed you to leave him since Sett seemed so adamant on staying with you. Unfortunately for you the opportunity for them to strike arose rather quickly when Sett turns to you.

“Hey, babe I need to check in with my bookies for the nights payouts, you keep my seat warm alright?” You nod happily and he grins and gives you a quick peck on the cheek before walking off to the bookies office. As you sit there you can’t help but feel a looming presences behind you. Turning around you spot one of Setts underling fighters looking at you. They take your look as an invitation to saunter up to you and glare down at you in Setts seat. You can feel the bubble of anxiety building up in your abdomen as they stare you down. They pick up a fruit from the table next to the seat your in and they lean in close as they bite down on the fruit hard enough that you could feel the juice from it land on your cheek. You cringe at the sight and your are not sure if your want to eat a fruit or throw up at the thought of eating it. They chew for a moment before before speaking to you.

“So your the boss’s new arm candy? Must be for charity or something.” Your brows fur in confusion and you glare up at them. They snort loudly and eat more of the fruit.

“I mean why would such a man like Sett like a little broken thing like you? So feeble, useless really, I heard you can’t even eat right. Here, have a fruit.” They toss one of the same fruits they were eating at you. You catch it and stare at the fruit like its a foreign object. It looked edible but then could you stop eating or would it just make you gag? As you contemplate the fruit your harasser just laughed.

“See, you can’t even decide if you want to do a basic human function. Even babies know what they want. I feel kinda bad for the boss. He has to put up with you and whatever the hell is wrong with you. Such a pain in the ass if you ask me. He probably just stays with you so he looks nice to better people. You know attract the better normal people.” You look down in shame. Sett wouldn’t do that to you, would he? No, he wouldn’t, but then again he didn’t know the broken side of you. The days of eating mindlessly or not eating at all for a couple days or the days where you did eat but just threw it all up. He didn’t know that you would physically beat yourself up about it. The scars that criss crossed across your arms, a daily reminder of the darkness in your mind. As your mind wondered the underling observed you and realized what you were thinking.

“ Oh, he doesn’t know does he? Now your a lier as well as a broken waste of space. You know, if you really supposedly love him wouldn’t you want him to be happy with someone who’s probably better for him in the long run. I’m sure you know as soon as he finds out about your little eating problem he’ll want you leave you for something better. Might as well save yourself some pain and let him go first don’t you think?” You felt a horrible familiar pain in your heart. It would be better for Sett if you weren’t around being a ball and chain. He could most defiantly do better then you. He deserved someone better then you. The fighters eyes brightened as the seeds of doubt were now planted in your head. It would only be a matter of time before your out of the picture.

“You just think about that, huh? If you can’t be good for him let him have someone who is good for him. Don’t let him suffer your problems. He doesn’t deserve your problems, no one does.” They say that last part with bitterness and a sharp in your face glare then made their leave back to the corner where they came from. So many things running through you head. Sett loves you right? Yeah he does, of course he does and you love him, but he didn’t know about your problems. He didn’t know that you had trouble with eating or how much you hated your self because of it. He doesn’t know that your a dirty lier that hasn’t been honest with him about all your faults. The fighter was right, you needed to leave Sett, he needed someone so much more then you. A perfect, honest, wonderful person for a wonderful, handsome man like him. You were lost in thought for who knows how long until a large shadow overcast you. Sett looks down with you with his lovely sharp toothed grin and dipped down to kiss you.

“Hey babe, I’m back everything’s good to go. You ok there hun? You look a little sad. Did someone hurt you? Just tell me babe I’ll make sure they’ll never hurt you again.” He cracks his knuckles and neck and looks around for any potential culprits.

“No love, I’m just tired its getting late thats all.” You tell him. More lies. Another fault and reason why Sett should be free from you. He looks a bit skeptical but he doesn’t push and instead settles down in his seat next to you and holds you close to him. He was so warm and comforting. So much more then you deserved. Starting tomorrow Sett will be free, no matter how much it would wound your heart.

The following weeks were so incredibly hard. You had been avoiding Sett like a plague and it was waring on your very soul. Every time he wanted to see you you would leave or make an excuse. Any dates he wanted to make you’d say no. He’d be so confused and sad but you’d take off before he could say anything. Everyday now you would cry. Everyday controlling how you ate was more of a task then it had ever been before. The small blade you had to defend your self now became the thing of your self destruction hardly ever leaving your hand and in those hands left a trail of blood and shame in its wake. In the sanguine pools around your limbs your life drained from you. It hurt so bad but good at the same time. The pain of your skin being split open by a sharp blade hurt for a short while but there was also and inexplicable relief in this pain. Though in the end your end will not come. Only a new mark will stay on your tapestry of sorrow that was your skin. This tapestry had become your life recently. The constant waves of agony that washed through you were only soothed this way. You try to convince yourself that Sett could never have loved this. This was all for the best, all for your dear love, Sett. It had to be.

Unknown to you Sett was getting rather fed up with all this running away and avoiding him. He loves you dammit and he knows you love him too! So why the hell were you being so distant lately? He was grumbling to himself and putting everyone in the pit on edge. Bookie and fighter a like knew what happens when you test the Boss when he’s in a bad mood. Nothing good they’ll tell you what. While everyone was generally avoiding Sett while he was irritated one particular fighter saw this as a chance. You were gone, you had to be to put him in this kind of mood. Time to test the waters. They made their way over to the beast man, who paid them no mind in the slightest. They frowned then coughed loud enough for the boss’s ears to twitch. Sett quickly and aggressively rounded on them and growled.

“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m not in the mood right now? Buzz off!” They were taken a little aback by his sheer aggressiveness. Now they knew he’d be a little upset but to be this upset over a broken thing like you was a bit ridiculous. It almost seems that he actually liked you but that couldn’t be it because no one in their right mind could like you. Well if he was going to be rude then they could be rude right back.

“No need to be so rude Boss. Im sorry if your little fling flaked out on you but they were certainly nothing to be upset about losing.” Before they could say anything else Sett moved with such speed they had no time to react. Their head hit the wall so hard the world started to blur and spin. Sett was snarling as he lifted up this dead weight bastard by the throat and slammed his head against the wall again. No one talked about you like that in front of him NO ONE.

“And just what the hell would you know about them?!” They yelped in pain as Sett punched them hard in the gut hard enough for some blood to dribble out of their mouth. A dark grin appeared on their blood stained face making Sett glare and tighten his grip on their throat. Ah, they had truly underestimated how much he didn’t know about you. It was likely Sett wouldn’t let them live but at least they could go out knowing Sett’s love would waver when he hears the truth about you and maybe just maybe you had already left this world and they could rub it in your face in the afterlife.

“More then you apparently. Little flake was broken anyway. It would be so much better for you if you just let the little defect go. I mean a guy like you shouldn’t have to deal with a creature that can’t decide if they want to eat a lot or nothing then just throw it all up or just spit up acid. Then on top of that have to deal with their “accidents” that they give themselves because they can’t handle their own mind. Honestly a waste of life that no one should put up with. You should just let them go. That is if they haven’t left this world already.” Sett blinks as he takes in all that information. You had eating problems? You HURT yourself? You want to avoid him so you could break yourself more because you were afraid of he would leave you? None of that set well with the beast man. You didn’t need to hide that from him. He loved you so much and if you had problems he’d want to be there for you. He NEEDED to be there for you, but first he needed to take out the trash. With a deep growl Sett channeled some of his Vastayan power into his arm and quickly crushed their throat. Blood sputtered out of their mouth for a moment before they fell completely limp. Sett dropped them like a sack of potatoes and turned to face some of the other fighters who silently watched the scene unfold and nodded for them to get rid of the body. Two of them moved quickly to dispose of the corpse and the others stood there in fear of their boss.

“Alright fellas I’m gonna head out for a bit. I’ll be back later with my babe and if anyone has any crap to say to them you’ll end up like that horrible bastard thats being taken out the door, got it?” Everyone in the room collectively agrees and Sett promptly leaves the terrified room behind. He needed to get to you now. If anything that A-hole said was true then you were probably not ok and if you weren’t ok he wasn’t ok. He kept you in mind as he started to run as fast as he could towards your home, hopefully he wasn’t too late.

In your seemingly dark and cold abode you sat on the floor in front of you bed. Sullen, in pain, and defeated there seemed to be no end to this sadness today. The only thoughts that ran through your mind were of your imperfections and your love who needed to be free from the blemishes of your life. You held the blade in your hand precariously. You were so used to the blade grazing the skin as of late that it didn’t bring anymore of that reliving pain. Perhaps you needed to go deeper. Yes, you needed to go deeper the pain was deeper so you just have to push it in closer to the core of your misery. You looked at the thing that had become a part of you arm its sharpness could go in so far it could be so easy for it to just pierce the core of your being. If it did everything would end. All the pain, the doubt, the indecision, gone. Thats what you want. Everything to be gone. You bring your end closer to you and in the process catch the sight of your arms tattered in red lines and blood splatter of today. Sett would be so sad to see that. He never liked to see you in pain, always wanting to fight away all your problems, such a sweetheart. A small smile actually appeared on your face as you recalled the memory of the day Sett told you he’d kick the ever-loving ass out of anyone that would even try hurt you. Such nice thoughts. Hopefully Sett’s next love will appreciate such protectiveness. The sliver of a smile you had fades and the knife in your hand and the wounds on your arms become more real. The pain rolling back into your chest double time after the happy memory. No he didn’t need this. You were a horrible mess that needed to be disposed of and you had the way to be disposed of in your hand. You feel nauseated as your mind races. Everything hurts. Everything hurts please make it stop! You gasp and begin to cry. You didn’t want to die, you wanted to live happily with Sett, but that could never be. You didn’t want to be that much of a burden to him. This is how it has to be. You hesitantly bring the blade up to your chest and start to hyperventilate. No, yes, no, yes, don’t do it you deserve to be happy with someone that loves you and he’s out there waiting for you. Lies, he probably doesn’t even notice your gone just end it and lets be free from all this pain. Your so lost in thought you don’t hear the pounding on the door or the sound of it breaking.

“Babe? Babe?!” The loud, sudden yelling in the room draws you from your thoughts and a blur rushes to you and wrenches the knife from your hand and throws it across the room. Your in shock as two large, warm, strong arms wrap themselves around you and pulls you in to the large man their attached to. You look up and see red fluffy hair and a dark purple fluffy vest collar in your face. Sett, he came for you. Tears bubble up and begin to rain down on Sett’s shoulder. He coos you softly and sits down fully on the floor and pulls you into his lap. His head presses softly against yours and he begins to kiss your tears away. A calloused hand cups the side of your face and makes you look up at him. He looks so concerned and slightly frightened. He was scared of losing you and you almost let your life slip away. So stupid, your so stupid, he really did need someone better.

“No I don’t! The only person I need is you. I was so worried about you. You started avoiding me and I didn’t know why. I was so confused, I didn’t understand what was happening. I still don’t to be completely honest but I want to know. I want to understand so you don’t have to feel like you have to do this. So you don’t have to hide from me and almost leave me.” His voice trembled at the end. You look upon his face and see his eyes shimmering like tears that wanted to fall but didn’t. He missed you so much and it felt so nice to have you in his arms, a little beat up but alive.

“But there’s so much wrong with me. You don’t have to deal with it, you shouldn’t have to. You don’t have to deal with me not being able to control my eating habits or this.” You gesture to the scars on your arms and your tear stained face.

“I’m a mess. A horrible mistake upon you and the world.” You were silenced by a deep loving kiss that held you both quiet until neither of you could breathe. The kiss ended with both of you gasping for air but Sett recovered faster and filled the quiet with his voice.

“Don’t be saying that crap. I know you feel bad, but your definitely not those things. I was told the same thing growing up. That I was a horrible mistake and nothing but a pain in the ass for my mama. She didn’t care about that though and whenever I felt bad she’d tell me that as long as one person in the world was happy with you then your life is worth living. I’m that one person. I love you so much and I don’t care if it takes me my whole life to understand or maybe I’ll never understand but the point is, I’m here for you and as long as I’m here for you, you don’t need to feel alone or ashamed. We can take all the time you need babe. I’ll be right here.” Your eyes filled with tears once again not from sadness but with joy. He truly loved you so much and was so patient with you. Perhaps, this can work. It would take a lot of time but maybe you could get better. As long as Sett was by your side it felt like you could just make it through and see some light at the end of your previously dark tunnel. You smile at him happily and cuddle into him. He lets out a small laugh.

“See, it’ll be ok, hun. Now lets get you cleaned up a bit your starting to look tougher then me!” He chuckled and kissed the scars on your arms as he picks you up easily. You can feel a better mood creeping in and jest with him.

“I am tougher then you.” He smiles and starts to kiss at your neck making you giggle and you swat at him playfully.

“Hmm, you might be right there, babe. You might have to protect me every now and then.” You nod and he snuggles into your nape. The light is even brighter now and for the first time in a long time you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time, Hope.

#Sett #League of Legends #league of legends x reader #One shots

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general-mahamatra · 4 years

Text

Geminus (Chapter 1)

Genre: Medieval/Modern Fantasy mix

TW: Stalker themes

Wordcount: 4079

Read it on AO3 here

Note: ARG!Wilbur AU but... with my own take. Kinda inspired by the Hunger Games :)

In a world mixed with medieval fantasy and modern fantasy, it’s easy for things to go awry under everyone’s radars. Especially when the tournament master, Wilbur Soot, gets replaced by a nearly perfect carbon copy of himself. After all, what can someone do if they don’t even know a doppelganger exists? Not much.

Though... what would happen if someone was a bit more knowledgeable than the doppelganger thought? Or, say, a pair?

Waking up in the middle of the night was a common occurrence for Wilbur. It wasn’t for any particular reason, it was just… normal. Fall asleep hours into the night, wake up a while later, then pass out just before sunrise only to be forced awake not too soon after he closed his eyes. But he really didn’t mind, not in the slightest. Those hours where he sat hunched over his desk, computer screen reflecting off his glasses and glaring at his tired eyes were his most productive.

No wonder coffee and energy drinks quickly became his best friends.

He had no time to focus on his own projects during the day. Between Tommy’s tournaments and training sessions, Techno’s exploration, and making sure they had food on the table every day, personal time wasn’t an option for Wilbur. Not that he cared too much about that. He’d do anything for his brothers to make sure they lived their best lives.

They all had ambitions but when Phil left one day… got Wilbur up in the middle of the night and explained what was going on… the curly haired Brit made the decision to put his goals to the side to support his brothers. And he would do it over and over again at the drop of a dime.

Staring at the screen, Wilbur rested his cheek against his fist. Eyelids heavy, he could barely keep his focus on the tiny words. They faded in and out, letters merging together and becoming incoherent. When his head began to fall forward, he jolted upright, running his hand through his hair as he blinked away the bleariness.

His eyes were sore and his head was pounding. Like a jackhammer against his skull, making him groan and press his hand against his forehead. God knows how long he had been working on the piece, let alone how long he zoned out. With a deep breath he sat back in the chair, pulling his feet up to wrap his arms around his legs.

Reading over what he wrote, he sighed. Disappointment mixed with exhaustion and he closed his eyes. Pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to pull out his guitar, try the words with the cords… but everyone was sleeping.

The one night he wanted to practice is the one night he had to be quiet.

Opening his eyes, he leaned forward and closed the laptop. Other than the slim strips of moonlight that filtered through the blinds, the room was swept into darkness. Wilbur sat there for a while, blind, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light.

The glimpse of a piece of paper catches his attention. Curious, he picks the small note up, unfolding the lined paper. For a few moments, he squints at the scrawled writing, a small frown tugging at his lips. It was too difficult to read.

So, he got to his feet and grabbed his glasses. Slipping them on, he approached the window and held the note under the light. He had no recollection of writing anything down for the last few days--at least, not that he kept at his desk. But the all-too-familiar handwriting said otherwise. It was his own; something he wrote and probably forgot about.

You work so hard at night, maybe you should stop straining your eyes. It ruins your pretty face. I’m sure neither of us want that.

Wilbur found himself unable to look away from the note. A look of horror covers his face as his hands shake ever so slightly. All sense of fatigue is gone, replaced by the need to run. Hide. Get away.

He crumpled the note and looked up. His heart raced, dread drowning out any previous thought he may have had. At some point, it was there. It was in the same room as him watching him work. Wrote the note and set it by the laptop without Wilbur noticing. Because it wasn’t there when the Brit got up.

When he couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary, he cautiously looked down at his fist. Uncurled his fingers, watched the paper unravel just a bit.

A creaking floorboard makes his head shoot up. Heart rate quickened at the snap of a finger and he watched, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights.

Footsteps.

He spun around, wide eyes glued on the door across the room. Obscured by shadows, form blurry in the blackness of the bedroom. A thin, dim light can barely be made out through the crack under the door. Paler than the moonlight, most likely a trick of the eye.

His eyes were trained on the light, only occasionally glancing up at the knob to see if anyone would open the door. Seconds tick by, feeling like neverending minutes trudging by as slow as possible. It was agonizing.

The handle turned with a click and Wilbur froze. Stared at the door, watched it swing open and watched a shrouded figure stride into the room. Their hand trailed behind on the knob, slipping off once the stranger was fully in the bedroom. The glint of moonlight from the cracked window blinds lands on the strangers face, reflecting from their eyes and highlighting the white teeth of their sly smile.

“Who the hell-”

Wilbur’s voice fell short the moment he made eye contact with the stranger. Locked into a staring contest, words refusing to come out. He went quiet, lips partially parted as a stillness came over him. Every muscle in his body seemed to lock up, the brit’s only movements the rise and fall of his chest and the natural sway of his body. He watched the stranger approach, breath catching in his throat and his fingers twitch… the only sign of him trying to move.

The stranger slowly advanced, grin only growing as their face became illuminated by the moonlight.

It took Wilbur a moment to process what he saw. A familiar face. Curly brown hair partially covered by a crimson beanie and keen hazelnut eyes were the first features he took in. And then the barely tanned skin and stature to perfectly match his own…

An exact carbon copy.

“Look at you,” the copy purred, leaning in close, its voice disorientating for Wilbur to hear. Set his nerves on edge and made him internally cringe. Like listening to a recording of himself… only he never said those words.

A cold hand pressed against the side of his face, the copy’s thumb caressing Wilbur's cheek as its breath hitched. It stayed like that for a moment. Unspeaking as it kept its hand in place, grin turning to a pleased smirk as its expression grew fond. “Up so late… you know that’s bad for you.” It lowered its hand, smooth fingers trailing along Wilbur’s jawline before eventually dropping entirely. It held its hand between them, palm open as the hand barely hovered over the man’s chest. Similar to a cold child to a fireplace.

He wanted to scream. Cry out and shove the copy away, force it to step back and stop touching him and ask what the hell was going on. But he couldn’t. No matter what he tried to do, his body wouldn’t listen. It wouldn’t move.

All Wilbur could do was stand there and take it, eyes trapped and mind entranced by the copy’s gleaming gaze.

It had to be a dream. None of this could possibly be real, doppelgangers exist, yeah, but not… not like this.

Or was he hallucinating?

“Come on Wilbur! Don’t tell me I have to teach you how to take care of yourself.” It reached up, twirling a strand of the brit’s greasy hair with a seemingly disappointed huff. “It’s a shame, really, finding you like this.” It shrugged, moving its hand to Wilbur’s chest where it now tapped along his sternum. “Not like you’ll get any better anyway,” the copy said, much to Wilbur’s horror.

It’s while they stand there in silence that the copy took hold of Wilbur’s glasses, pulling the round metal frames off his face. It studied them, turning the frames in its hands before holding it up to the slits of light.

Then it placed them on its face.

The copy blinked a couple of times, squinting as its vision adjusted to the lenses. Then, it tilted its head to the side, its open-mouth smile somehow appearing calmer than before.

“Thanks for the glasses.”

With one hard punch to the jaw, Wilbur crumpled to the floor.

“Dude, Tubbo, come on!” Tommy shouted, turning around as he walked backwards, slowing his rush. “Hurry up or they’re gonna catch us!”

A shorter boy ran after Tommy, hands scrambling to get a hold of the backpack straps to keep it from bouncing all over the place as his feet slammed against the dirt road. It was heavy, stuffed with books, a laptop, and two small notebooks (one of which the corner was peeking out from the zipper Tubbo was unable to close) and was a struggle to keep from completely falling off.

“I’m sorry! You’re the one who dumped this on me!”

Once by his friend’s side, Tubbo passed off the bag. The taller one gladly took it with a laugh, slipping it on over his shoulders and tugging the straps to tighten it around his thin frame. Then, teasingly, he remarked, “you’re my sidekick! Learn to deal with it!”

Tubbo scoffed with a small chuckle as the two picked up the pace, relieved to have the weight of their haul off his shoulders.

As Tommy spun around to face the direction they were headed, he cast a quick glance back. No one was following them, not yet, but he could hear them. Shouting in the distance, inaudible as it was all muffled by the storefronts on the corner. They were a good 50 feet from the street corner before the first pursuer came into view.

Grabbing Tubbo by the sleeve, Tommy shouted, “RUN!”

And they took off.

Adrenaline pumped through their veins, pushing them to go faster than either has ever run before. With the advantage of long legs, Tommy found himself pulling ahead of his friend. It forced him to slow long enough to take Tubbo’s wrist and drag him along, much to the shorter boy’s protests.

“Get back here!” A man shouts. “You thieves! Come back here right now!”

Tommy cackled and continued to pull his friend behind him. Ducking into an alleyway, he didn’t stop, weaving through the many twists and turns that eventually led to an open street across the block.

It was far more lively. Younger children running around with a dirty ball tossing and kicking it across the street, older teens riding bikes along the center of the road, and so many others just walking around with bags of goods from grocery stores and clothing shops. An easy enough place to lose the men coming after them.

With a quick glance either way, Tommy darted across the street, Tubbo in tow. His target was yet another alleyway, this one a bit more shrouded by the hustle and bustle of pedestrians than the one they left. Straight into the dim lighting and around another corner, narrowly dodging large dumpsters and a stray cat that darted across their path.

After yet another turn, Tommy came to a stop next to a dumpster. Ducking down behind it, he motioned for Tubbo to join him as he took the bag off.

Both of them were breathing heavily. Tommy practically panting as he struggled to unzip the backpack and Tubbo keeled over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Holy shit,” Tubbo wheezed, lifting his head so he could look at the younger boy. “Why are you so fucking fast?!”

Tommy chuckled. He waited to respond until he finally got the zipper unstuck and practically ripped the bag open. “Because unlike you, I actually did well on the pacer test!” he proclaimed as he scrambled to catch the small notebook before it hit the trash-covered ground. He then grinned up at his friend. “I got a fucking 83. Fucking try me, bitch.”

The shorter boy giggled lightly as he kneeled down next to his friend. While Tommy was going through the notebook, Tubbo dug around the backpack to get ahold of the laptop. “You’re lucky I have a charger for this thing at home,” he remarked, flipping the lid open. “This thing’s probably barely charged knowing them.”

Tommy hummed in response as he thumbed through the pages. Each one was covered in scrawled writing. A mix of cursive and print, both messing and intricate at the same time in a way Tommy didn’t even know what possible. Granted, it was almost as ineligible as his own chicken scratch.

Along with the writing was a bunch of diagrams hastily sketched out in ink and pencil alike. Extra pages were taped and stapled in here and there and some areas looked like pages had been ripped out. Jagged corners stuck out where papers were just shoved into the notebook and the cover was worn to the point of nearly falling off.

“This is so weird,” he said, turning a page. “Who has the time to write this much and draw all this shit? Like-” Tommy held the notebook up so Tubbo could see, pointing at a diagram of what looked like a tall, spindly, bipedal creature. Everything was scribbled in with the familiar texture of a scratchy ballpoint pen except for its eyes which were small, beady, and red. “Who?”

Tubbo glanced up from the bright screen to look at what he was being shown. His eyebrows rose in mild surprise at the site. “The hell is that thing?”

Turning the notebook back, Tommy read, “A… zexane.” He frowned. “Fucking weird.”

“A zexane,” Tubbo repeated, gaze trailing back to the laptop. “Interesting.”

“It says here that it lives in the forest and is only active during the night,” explained Tommy, squinting slightly at the intricate handwriting. “It can mimic the voice or sound of anything it can hear and its presence can usually be determined by a flock of crows in the forest.” He flipped the page again. “Who has the time?”

“Someone does,” Tubbo said absentmindedly, fingers tapping away on the keyboard. How the boy was able to do as much as he can was beyond Tommy. Oftentimes he would sit there and stare at Tubbo’s work, simply awed but what he’s capable of.

Now was one of those times..

Tommy shuffled over, closing the notebook over his thumb to keep his place. His blue eyes settled on the bright screen as he watched Tubbo sift through the files. “What are we looking for again?” he asked.

A couple moments passed before he got an answer.

“A digital version of what you’re holding right now.”

Tommy glanced down at the brown cover, gaze trailing over the weird symbol on the front. He traced his hand over it only to find that it was engraved into the leather. “Does it have anything to do with this?”

“Do with what?” Tubbo looked over as the taller boy held the book so he could see. “Oh… OH!”

His attention shifted to the computer. “I think I know what that’s called.”

It doesn’t take long for a browser page full of similar symbols to take up the entire screen. Tubbo turned the laptop towards Tommy with an enthusiastic smile. “A unicursal hexagram! It’s really uncommon and really weird looking but once you know what it is, you can’t forget it.” He set the laptop down and took the notebook from Tommy. “You see the circle around it and the star in the center? That might mean it’s a symbol!”

Tommy swiped the book back and frowned slightly. He didn’t get a chance to comment on it before Tubbo continued.

The older boy pointed at the center of the star. “Look closer right there.”

Squinting, Tommy pulled the worn notebook closer to his face to get a better look at what Tubbo had shown him. At first he saw nothing, just the weathered material of the cover. That is, until he tilted the book and watched some sort of shape flicker in the sparse light.

A number.

“Seven?” The boy questioned, now placing his finger over the number. Unlike the hexagram, there was no engraving, nothing to feel to show it was there. Tilting it back away from the light, Tommy couldn’t even make out any writing.

It wasn’t there.

Tubbo once again took the book back and flipped it open. He was practically buzzing at this point, excitement taking over his original plan of searching through the computer.

“Tubbo what are you-”

“Shh.”

The shorter boy thumbed through the pages, eyes flicking across the words faster than Tommy thought possible for the boy.

Then it clicked.

Tubbo wasn’t reading.

With the frantic page turning and constant scouring, there was only one other thing that could possibly be going on because there was no way Tubbo was just looking at pictures. He was searching for something.

“Aha!” Tubbo exclaimed, slamming his hand on the book, pointing at something in the corner. He shoved it into Tommy’s face a bit too close for the younger to see. “There! Look!”

Carefully pushing the book away, Tommy examined the section Tubbo was pointing at. Weird, runic-like letters were scrawled on the side. Definitely not English.

“The fuck?”

Tommy was pretty sure the other was vibrating now.

Tubbo tapped the notebook, forcing Tommy to stay focused on the words. “It’s Batari! Tommy it’s Batari!” The only response he got was a blank expression which made Tubbo huff. Taking the book back, he started to explain. “It’s the written language of magic. It’s read the same as English but it’s magic. Tommy it’s MAGIC!”

The boy flipped through a couple more pages until he came upon a loose piece of paper, folded into quarters. Setting the book down, Tubbo unraveled the paper. The moment his eyes landed on the writing, he seemed to glow with joy. “There’s so much of it!”

And so Tommy’s curiosity was piqued. “Can you read it?”

“Not well,” Tubbo admitted. “But… It’s not… it’s not a spell or anything like the one in the book.” He picked the notebook back up and passed it off to Tommy. “Open it to the page with the Batari.” Tommy obliged and Tubbo began to compare.

“It’s different,” he finally said. “Look at this.” He pointed at the spell and then at a sentence on the ripped paper. “The structure is different, so is the handwriting. Look- the spell? Words are connected and there’s extra letters to words and some are even removed. The note? It has regular grammar. Like someone was trying to write in code.”

Tommy’s eyes darted from the Batari to Tubbo. “What does it say? The stuff you can read? What is it?”

There was a moment of silence before Tubbo answered him.

“It’s a diary entry.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve EVER heard!”

Quackity flinched at the shouting and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This whole thing was so stupid. He didn’t want to be here, he never did! Yeah he ran for the seat of mayor but he didn’t actually want to deal with the whole legal side of it all. But, alas, merging his votes with Schlatt came with… repercussions.

“It’s exactly what we need to do!” a deep, accented voice countered. “It’s what the people need, how the fuck is it dumb?”

A hand slammed on a table followed by the sound of a chair sliding on a hardwood floor. “I don’t care, Eret. You’re not the one in charge here, it's not your decision.” Schlatt snarled. “This is my city, not yours. You simply work for me. And I say that is the worst thing I have ever heard.”

“But we need the land!” Eret exclaimed. Upon opening his eyes, Quackity came to find the tall man standing as well just across the table. “We need to be able to farm, we can’t farm without that land!”

“We import everything, we don’t need to start making our own fucking food.”

Eret pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. An attempt to calm down. “Schlatt, we don’t export anything. How are we supposed to sustain ourselves when all we have is the tournament?” They were the only one who could keep their cool around Schlatt. Something Quackity dearly wished he had. “Listen. Our economy is failing, we need to do something to boost it during the months we don’t have the tournament or soon enough we will fail and the tournament will be taken away. What will you do then?”

Schlatt glared at the tall man, stance unwavering. Though silent, he was still imposing, hard stare, something Quackity never wanted to be on the receiving end of. If looks could kill… Eret would be no better than dead.

The other took the silence as an answer.

“We’re nothing without the tournament right now,” Eret continued, gently placing his hands on the table. “We need to change that as soon as possible if we want to stay significant! Because who knows what happens if the next tournament master is born hundreds of miles away?! If we aren’t established as the regional capital, we won’t matter anymore!”

Schlatt scoffed in response, turning away from Eret for a moment. “God, Alister, you’re so fucking dumb.” The use of their real name made Eret freeze. Finally turning back to them, Schlatt continued. “We won’t have a new tournament master for decades. He’s not gonna die any time soon, you’re so fucking stupid.”

There was a flash of anger in Eret’s eyes joined by the barely noticeable flicker of a glow… a sign that their magic was just below the surface. Despite their clenched fists now pressed against the table, they kept a steady, diplomatic tone. “We don’t know that. Anything could-”

“Wilbur sits on his fucking ass in front of his computer whenever he’s not out with Techno, nothing bad is gonna happen to him anytime soon,” Schlatt snapped, easily cutting the other off.

“We don’t know that,” repeated Eret. “We don’t know each and every detail that could lead to something happening to Wilbur. He’s a target, Schlatt, you know that!”

Schlatt’s face twisted to one of confusion and disbelief. “Who the fuck would target the fucking tournament master?”

“Someone who’s mad at the results,” Eret delineated matter-of-factly.

Quackity stood before Schlatt could say anything, placing his hand in front of the man as one would do to hold someone back. “You guys really need to shut up holy crap.” Schlatt swatted his hand away and Quackity shook it out, begrudgingly bringing it to his chest while mumbling a small “ow”. He then continued. “You’re acting like two old women fighting over if they should spend money on yarn or fabric in the middle of a fucking Joanne’s. Put your granny diapers on and sit back down oh my God.”

That earned him a swat on the back of the head from Schlatt.

“Hey!” he whined, rubbing the back of his head. “The fuck was that for? I’m not wrong! You’re literally two overgrown diabetes babies. You should really rest your legs before you fall down the stairs on the way out!”

Next thing he knew he was being grabbed by the ear and dragged away from the table. “Ow, ow, hey! C’mon man I’m sorry let g- ow!” The shorter boy stumbled after Schlatt, tripping over his own feet as he was rendered off balance. “Schlatt!”

Eret was giggling off to the side, finding far too much enjoyment in this.

“The only reason you’re here is because you legally have to be,” Schlatt snarled, pulling Quackity closer. “You’re supposed to sit there and be a witness, not act like some idiotic child who finds penis jokes funny.”

“Puta,” Quackity mumbled.

“Alexis.”

Quackity laughed nervously, eyes almost as wide as his nervous smile. “Haha, yeah! Yeah I get you big man! Mr. Mayor guy! Big ol’ Mr. Man!”

That seemed to be enough for Schlatt, the taller man letting Quackity go and immediately turning back to the table. Left Quackity standing there, pouting as he held the side of his face.

This was going to be a long evening.

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #quackity #jschlatt #eret #arg wilbur #wilbur soot arg #fanfic #dream smp #dream smp rpf #tw stalker #cw jschlatt

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