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#their friendship became all the more stronger for it
felinecyan · 3 months
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Reality of Realizations
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[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.
WC: 3559
Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto
This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶
『••✎••』
In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.
Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.
For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.
And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.
When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.
You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.
Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:
An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.
But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.
And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.
You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.
That guilt settled in.
He was a horrible person.
He had to make up for it.
And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.
The question was, how?
He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?
How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?
He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.
So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.
Surely, it would help.
After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.
Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.
He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.
Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.
He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.
Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.
He wanted to be your friend.
He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.
You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.
Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.
But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.
Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.
Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.
He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.
Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.
"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."
But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.
"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"
You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.
"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.
"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."
Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?
The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.
Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.
So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?
He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.
But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.
He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.
And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.
His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.
His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.
His mind continued to wander.
Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.
None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.
His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.
Birds.
Why does that remind him of something?
What do birds have to do with a gift?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.
And then, a memory flashed.
It was a rainy day, and you were late.
You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.
You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.
Luckily, it wasn't too far away.
Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.
And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.
You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.
When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.
You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.
A hairclip, to be specific.
You lost a hairclip.
It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.
You really cared.
You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.
And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.
If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.
Until now.
In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.
He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.
It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.
He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?
Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.
It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.
He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.
The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.
And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.
Oh, right, the apology.
He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.
But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?
Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.
He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.
Okay, how would he start?
Hi? No, that was too casual.
Hello? No, it's not formal enough.
Greetings?
No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.
He needed something more genuine, more real.
Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.
He cleared his throat again.
"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.
He started over.
"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."
This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.
"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."
He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.
"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."
Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.
He sighed.
Hopefully.
The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.
But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.
Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.
The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.
This is it, he thought—all or nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Here goes.
"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.
You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.
Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.
"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"
The question made him snap back into reality.
He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.
You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.
"What's this?"
"It's a gift."
Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.
"For... me?"
Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!
He shook his head.
"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."
You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?
You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.
"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."
Silence.
He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.
"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.
So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.
"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."
When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.
And that smile. Oh, that smile.
He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.
"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.
You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.
"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."
Wait, was that a yes?
Was that a yes?!
Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.
"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."
You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.
"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."
You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.
"I can… um, help you with that if you want."
The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.
It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.
It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.
"You look nice," he told you.
"Thank you."
There was a pause.
"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."
The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.
"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."
Mission make up with you: success.
The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.
Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.
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winterarmyy · 4 months
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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.
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Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.
Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Words: 6.7k++
Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.
Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.
She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 
And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.
Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.
Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.
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y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 
The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.
Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.
She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.
"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."
Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"
Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."
y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 
Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.
She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.
All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.
Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 
"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."
y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.
Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 
The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.
And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.
y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."
Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."
y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.
She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.
At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 
"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 
Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.
Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"
Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.
Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"
"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.
She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.
"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."
y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"
But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 
y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.
Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."
The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."
Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.
A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.
Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.
Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 
The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.
As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.
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As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.
"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 
Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.
Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.
She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.
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Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.
"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.
She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.
Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.
Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."
Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.
Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.
As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."
Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.
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The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.
Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.
She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.
As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.
As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.
And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.
Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.
Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.
But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.
He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."
With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?
y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.
The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.
In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.
As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.
Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.
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The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.
Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.
"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.
But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.
Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.
It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.
But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.
"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."
y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."
Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."
Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.
y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 
In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.
Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."
y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.
"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."
But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."
y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.
With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."
As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.
"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.
In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.
Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.
Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.
Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.
The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.
"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."
"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 
Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.
"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 
He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."
Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."
She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."
With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.
"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."
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In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.
Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.
But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.
His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."
Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."
But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."
Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.
"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."
But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.
For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.
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The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.
"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.
Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.
For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.
"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"
Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"
Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.
She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.
Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."
Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.
Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.
With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.
The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."
Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 17 days
Note
I will bite (lol mating bite)
Remus with a best friend!reader who thinks her feelings for him are unrequited
his alpha presentation clicks in when she first presents as an omega - he immediately realizes they’re mates and is delighted, she doesn’t know he likes her and is freaking out that he’s going to feel trapped
🫣.......... okay twist my arm why don't you ;) jk - this theme/trope has been a bit of a brainworm/hyperfixation for me for a few weeks so thank you for indulging me, and sorry to my readers who this might not be their taste! but I definitely had fun with it so you may have to brace yourselves for more of it from me lol
Remus Lupin x best friend!reader who presents as an omega [3.5k words]
p1 // p2
CW: fem!reader, a/b/o dynamics and omegaverse, very soft a/b/o descriptions, SFW [nothing explicit or sexual in this fic], first a/b/o fic I've written so I'm truly just dipping my toes in lol, feelings of unrequited love [but its actually requited]
Loving Remus came as naturally as breathing to you; every inhale was the sweet smell of chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books, and every exhale was a quiet whisper of “I love you” that you prayed to every deity he couldn’t hear.
Loving Remus was natural, but it was also harrowing; no one chooses to experience unrequited love, it’s simply one of those things that happens upon you. 
But no matter how painful the fact that your feelings weren’t reciprocated was, the wholehearted comfort that being around Remus brought you was almost worth the heartache. 
There was something in your soul that relaxed the second Remus was near; your entire being unclenched, knowing you were somehow safer, somehow more sound now that he was here.
And you hoped that, if nothing else, you provided the same for him. 
The two of you had been friends for years; becoming fast friends in first year over your shared love of muggle literature and the fact that the two of you were a touch more shy than your respective peers. 
The friendship never dimmed over time - if anything, it only became stronger with every passing year. No matter how mischievous his new friends were or how much trouble he got into with them around, no matter how many school yard crushes left either of you melancholy, no matter how many failed papers or late night study sessions that turned into heated spats because the two of you were far too overtired to handle anything maturely, and no matter how the moons came and went that effectively waxed and waned the Remus you knew in much the same way, the friendship had weathered it all.
It was one of your greatest possessions - this friendship you shared with Remus - and one of your proudest accomplishments.
And you weren’t going to let a silly crush (or, in your case, your gut-wrenching and undying devotion) ruin it. 
Which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to James and Lily’s flat for your surprise party, preparing yourself to be surprised because Sirius insisted they throw you one but Remus knew you hated surprises and had warned you about it prior to your arrival. 
You were admittedly not feeling up to a party - the telltale tickle in your throat warning you of an impending cold - though you were sure you wouldn’t have felt quite up to a party whether you were poorly or not. Parties were never quite your thing; you loved your friends, and you loved spending time with them, but that many of them in one place at one time and all for you felt a little bit like torture. 
But you knocked on the door which was flung open before your hand even made its second knock and there was a sea of people cheering “happy birthday!” but your eyes - of course - found Remus first, and suddenly, you didn’t think this was torture. Suddenly this was heaven. 
“Wha- you guys!” You started, smiling as James gave you a bone crushing hug, eyes never leaving Remus’. 
“Surprise!” Lily giggled as she elbowed James out of the way to give you her own hug. “Were you surprised?”
“What do you mean ‘were you surprised’? I still am!” You agreed quickly, embracing Sirius who was next in line.
“Moony told you, didn’t he?” He murmured quietly into your hair, causing you to snort. 
“Am I that bad an actor?” You asked him quietly, causing him to chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. 
“No,” He answered quickly, “but he is just that soft on you.” 
You hardly had a moment to consider what Sirius had said when Marlene was yanking you from his grasp to pepper your face in kisses as he shook his head over at his friend and started giving him shit for ruining the surprise. 
After greeting every guest in attendance, you finally made it to Remus who wasted no time in pulling you into his chest.
“Happy birthday, dove.” He murmured into your hair; and you had sort of wished that the only plan you had for the rest of the night was to stay within his warm embrace. 
“Sorry for getting you into trouble with Sirius.” You murmured back into his chest, delighting in the rumble of his laugh you elicited.
“Worth it; couldn’t handle you being miffed with me all night for not warning you.”
You - regretfully - pulled away to shoot him a bemused expression. “I could never spend an entire night miffed with you, Moons.” 
Remus hummed noncommittally as he scanned your face. “Any amount of time would have been too much for me- hey, are you feeling okay?” 
His face took on a concerned form that you found him too pretty to wear, and you suddenly felt bone-deep distress at having caused it.
“Why? I’m fine; do I not look fine?” You asked worriedly, bringing a hand up to your own face which was perhaps warm, but you weren’t feeling clammy. 
The corner of his mouth twitched, though the furrow between his brows was ever present. “You look perfect, as usual, just… are you feeling alright?” 
You let out a sigh, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I think I’ve got a cold coming on, I’ll be alright though.” 
His mouth pinched worriedly as he ducked trying to get you to make eye contact with him. “We don’t have to stay long then, yeah?”
You snorted as you gave him an unimpressed look. “We don’t have to stay long at the party for me that was thrown in part by you?”
“Right.” He agreed readily.
“I’ll be fine, Rem.” You assured him, patting his hand placatingly. “It’s my party, I can sniffle if I want to.”
And though he didn’t seem particularly convinced, he let you go when Sirius and Marlene announced that it was time to dance. 
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You were taking a breather in the small kitchen of James and Lily’s flat when you started to feel slightly worse.
The tickle in your throat had officially turned into an ache in your chest, and your head was pounding - be that from the music, the dancing, the drinks, or whatever flu you were coming down with, you couldn’t be certain. 
But you found yourself feeling better as you let your head fall back against the cool wall; your hair falling away from your neck and allowing the air circulating the room to hit your overly hot neck and chest.
Maybe you should try to leave early?
“I’ll check.” You heard Remus announce; your face breaking out into a grin on its own accord as he came around the corner.
“Y/N.” He breathed out. “Are you alright?” He asked, standing in front of you with that damned furrow in his brow again.
“I’m alright.” Now, was left unsaid, but something in the tilting of his head alerted you to the fact that he heard it anyway. 
“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asked slowly; words stilted as his eyes darted across your face, mostly speaking to himself as he searched your form for answers. 
“Did you find her?” James called out, causing Remus’ neck to crane as he peered around the door frame; and that’s when it hit you.
Chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books.
Remus.
His scent. 
Your head fell forward as you took a deeper breath, and the remnants of whatever cold you were catching dissipated.
And the whole evening clicked into place; the discomfort, his incessant worry and focus on you, you felt better for a moment because he was near - not because you took a moment to breathe, he could tell you were…
Oh god.
“Y/N.” He said again, alerting you to the fact that he was now standing rigidly still and staring at you imploringly. “What-”
“This can’t be happening…” You whispered, eyes glued to the point just under Remus’ jaw that was so disturbingly close yet somehow not nearly close enough. 
“Are- are you…” Remus started, his gaze settling somewhere near your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and took a deep breath through his nose.
As if you scalded him, he went flying backwards from your being - his back making contact with the fridge so violently that it sent magnets flying.
Fuck, fuck! Fuck, he was going to hate you, now, surely? He hated you.
He hated you because he wanted you, but he only wanted you because you were fucking presenting - why? Why now? Why today? Why to him?
He’s never wanted you before; and now he would only want you because he was - what was very clear now - an Alpha and you were, apparently, an Omega.
Fuck.
“Fuck.” You hissed as you pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes until you could see stars.
“Dove-”
“No!” You shouted, pulling your hands away to see him having frozen in reaching out to you, now lifting his hands as if fending off a wild animal.
“Fuck, I need air.” You blurted, and you took off out the front door. 
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The evening air did little to quell your nerves and nausea over the events of the night. 
To present, tonight out of all nights, in a tiny flat with nowhere to run without causing a scene.
Not to mention the precariousness of your relationship with Remus that you valued over everything was now hanging by a thread. 
“You couldn’t have found us a more comfortable place to sit, gorgeous?” You heard Sirius drawl as he (loudly) took a seat on the curb beside you.
“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you so, Sirius.” You responded dryly. 
“You ought to be.” He continued. “This is not how I wanted to spend your birthday party.”
“Oh, fuck off.” You scoffed, elbowing him in the side causing him to sway as if you’d put any real force behind it. 
“If you fuck on, you get better results.”
You snorted. “Yeah, and if you fuck around you’ll find out.”
“Mmm, saucy, I like where this is going.”
“Padfoot.” You begged miserably, and he let out a relenting sigh before he pulled you roughly into his side, leaving his arm draped over you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting on a curb outside.” You answered, earning you a pinch in the side.
“I can see that; I mean, what are you doing out here by yourself? Why aren’t you inside with your man?”
“Stop it, Sirius.” You spat, hastily sitting up and wiping angrily at your face.
“Merlin, you both really are that thick, aren’t you?” He muttered, searching your face like it would somehow answer his question.
“If you’re out here to make fun of me, you can go back inside. I’m humiliated enough.”
Sirius shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand why the two of you are making this harder than it needs to be; you’re both clearly mad for each other, you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself because you think he doesn’t want you, he’s in there feeling sorry for himself because he doesn’t think you want him.”
“He doesn’t want me, Sirius. We’ve always only been friends.”
“But you want him?” He asked then, causing you to put your head in your hands.
“Sirius, please, don’t-”
“Do you want him?” He asked again, more forceful this time. “Simple question, Y/N, yes or no.”
“Yes!” You let out with a sob. “Yes! I’ve always wanted him! I’ve- fuck, I’ve been mad about him for years and… yes. Yes, I want him.” The end of your sentence trailing off as you picked angrily at your nail beds.
Sirius seemed to steal himself for a moment, nodding his head as he sucked in a breath.
“I started calling him Moony before I ever knew of his lycanthropy.” He admitted then; and though you weren’t looking in his direction, you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. 
Sirius let that sit in the air before he got up and stood in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. 
“I called him that because of the way he was always mooning after you.”
“Then why’d he freak? Why’d he rip away from me like that?” You asked - voice disturbingly small as you looked up at one of your oldest friends.
“Why’d you run?”
You let out a sigh and looked at the streetlights across the street instead of admitting “because I’m a coward”. 
“I can’t lose him, Pads. I-” Stopping as a painful shiver shook your frame - the cold taking over again now that you had some distance from your…
From Remus.
But Sirius didn’t rush you, he just continued standing in front of you as you struggled to find the words. 
“I can’t lose him.” You settled on. 
“Then don’t.” He said, toeing your shoe with his. 
“It’s not that simple.” You argued.
“It can be.” A voice sounded from behind you but a moment before you smelled him. 
And though the rational part of your brain wanted to brace yourself, the rest of your body immediately softened in his presence. 
“Well I’m going to go back in and enjoy the kick ass party I threw, so, if the two of you don’t mind…” Sirius said haughtily, shooting you a wink so that you knew it was all in jest and clapping Remus on the back before disappearing back into the building. 
You listened as Remus lowered himself onto the curb beside you; guilt flooding through you at the way his joints cracked audibly and at the fact that he seemed to be leaving quite a bit of distance between the two of you that he wouldn’t have even just a few hours ago. 
“Are you okay?” He started, and you fought the urge to scoff.
No, you thought petulantly, not only do I feel like shit, I’m also at risk of losing the thing that means the most to me.
“I’m fine.” You responded shortly, fixated on the skin surrounding your fingernails as you refused to look in his direction. “You alright?”
“No.” Remus answered quickly, and you did look up at that.
He was staring at you imploringly, his brows furrowed both with sympathy and perhaps a little bit of frustration. 
“Why’d you run?” He asked then.
“I-” you started, though you weren’t exactly sure anymore. “You…you seemed so startled, I… I thought you were upset.”
He seemed to pause as he considered your response; this sort of caution not usual for the two of you this far into your friendship. 
“I had just found out that the girl of my dreams was an Omega, and when she was clearly distraught, I was caught leaning in to get a better sniff.” He deadpanned, shaking his head at himself as he looked out across the street. “I startled because I was certain I was going to startle you.”
“I- you’re not? Startled, that is.”
His brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head, turning back to look at you. “Why would I be?”
“But…we’ve never been…more than friends; I didn’t want that to change now, just because you felt it had to.”
“It doesn’t have to.” He responded simply, and for reasons you weren’t willing to think on right now, that sentiment caused something very unpleasant to churn in your gut. 
“Nothing would have to change; you could still be you and I could just be me, and that would be fine. Is that what you want?” 
He held your gaze defiantly as you gaped at him. “I- but,”
“Is that what you want, dove?” He asked again, a slight force in his tone this time as he turned his body towards yours and his eyes flit down to your lips. “Because it is taking everything in my power not to claim you as my own right here, right now. I have wanted this for so long; so I ask you again, is that what you want? For nothing to change?”
“No.” You blurted quickly. 
“No?”
“No.” You whispered, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him too. “No, no. I want you, I need you-”
“Now? You want and need me now, or-”
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you since fourth year, Remus. Since I figured out why I hated Emmeline Vance so much.” You practically sobbed.
“Why?” He asked softly, looking like his lip wanted to tip up into a smile though he was dutiful of your current upset. “Because she fancied me?”
“Because you fancied her.” You corrected miserably. Remus finally brought his hand up to cup your cheek at that, and you hardly had a moment to feel embarrassed at the way you quickly turned your head into his wrist so you could get a better smell of him.
“My poor, sweet girl.” He cooed softly, a sympathetic sound emanating from the back of his throat at the sound that his phrase elicited from you. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please.” You whispered, no longer trying to withhold the desperation from your voice as you kept your nose pressed to the inside of his wrist and your eyes screwed shut.
“Okay.” He whispered back, even though he had no idea what you were begging him for - you supposed it didn’t matter; he didn’t seem particularly inclined to deny you anything you wanted right now. 
“Rem-”
“I know.”
“Please.”
“I’m right here, dove.” He whispered, pulling you towards him by your hand as you followed all too willingly. “I’m right here.” He whispered again, nose brushing yours before you closed the distance between the two of you.
The sound of the traffic faded away, as did the tarmac beneath you and the air around you; you seemed to be floating in a vast expanse that contained nothing but you and Remus.
You took a moment to mentally kick yourself as you deepened the kiss - nipping at his lower lip and causing him to smile before granting you access - that you could have been, should have been, doing this for years. 
“Ugh, fuck.” Remus muttered as he broke the kiss and rested his head against yours, seeming truly distraught at having to interrupt.
You didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before you heard cheering from above you.
“Fucking finally!” James shouted as he pulled the tab of a party popper, showering the street below his balcony with multicoloured  confetti. 
“Pay up bitches; I told you this was the year.” Lily continued, holding her hand out expectantly as Marlene begrudgingly placed a few galleons into her friend's hand. 
“Oi!” Remus shouted at the group, a protective arm snaking around your middle as he held you closer to him as if he was worried you’d simply float away, “You better pay Pads his fair share then!”
You snorted and shoved your face into Remus’ neck - hiding your face as a ploy to get closer to him without it being nearly close enough. 
Remus chuckled as your friends filed back into the apartment and the world returned to its normal volume, bringing his free hand up to knead at your scalp in a way that made you want to purr like a sodding cat. 
“Fuck.” He breathed out, looking down at you with an expression nothing short of worship.
“You okay?” You asked then, bringing one hand up to draw a line down the bridge of his nose, simply because you could now.
“I’m perfect, you’re perfect.” Remus pressed, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss before he pressed his nose against the spot on your neck just past your jaw.
You instinctually let your head fall back; his hand tightening in your hair as he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and growl.
“Don’t sodding do that.” He scolded you playfully. 
“What?” You asked - half innocently half abashedly. 
“Submit to me, you minx.” He explained, booping you on the nose for extra effect. “Let me at least take you out on a date, first.”
A date, you echoed in your head; you had spent a lot of time daydreaming as a girl about what your first date with Remus would look like. You’d always imagined spending the day in Hogsmeade buying sweets and gobstones and books and quills before heading back up to the castle.
This was turning out way better already, though.
“So long as I don’t have to share you with James.” You joked, peering over Remus’ shoulder where you could see James peeking through the curtains before a flash of a camera went off.
“Hm…I’m not sure I can promise that for the first date, but definitely for the second.” 
“Deal.” You agreed readily, because really, you’d have Remus just about anyway you could have him. 
And you were simply overjoyed to know that he apparently felt the same.
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malkaviian · 2 years
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thinking between drama between oc trios because i have been listening to a certain vocaloid saga (which i have no idea how it is called ngl)
#mostly the whole thing between finnley/chase/caspian; ah#caspian knows finnley doesnt fully likes him the few times he saw him when he wasnt dating chase. hes extra sensitive to body language#and how he reacted when he was around was so obvious; even if just quick glares. the thing is that he doesnt know why he dislikes him#chase never bothered to explain the true nature of his relationship with finnley because he was more focused on getting caspian to like him#and maybe telling him he was fwb with him + was overall very promiscuous wasnt the best way to make him like him back lmao#he was sure caspian was a virgin or at least someone without that much sex experience and both him and finnley are... the total opposite#telling him that might scare him + make him think he would eventually cheat on him if they were on a relationship:c#either with finnley or someone else. so he kept quiet about that part and presented finnley as his friend and thats it#and of course he wasnt really happy to meet the one who was replacing HIS place on chases heart; even if he didnt wanted to admit it#so from the beginning he tried to subtly show his disgust; which eventually became more obvious. but caspian noticed since the first time#he thinks it must be his fault; he must have done something wrong; but has absolutely no idea what. or maybe hes just that unlikable#that even a complete stranger can tell how pathetic his life is. and that made him very sad. so hes glad he only saw finnley like 4 times#then he started dating chase; and now suddenly his boyfriend and the other one arent friends anymore. he was quick to blame himself#and even then chase didnt explained to him what truly happened when he asked. he just said things werent working out anymore#and left it at that. he also said it wasnt his fault so he shouldnt worry at all; that friendships just arent the same anymore#even when this whole problem started when chase started to show interest on him and eventually have stronger feelings for him than finnley.#neither of them had romantic feelings for each other btw they were just very important for the other; way more than just best friends#but well. stuff happened#oc talk
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oddinary4bts · 2 months
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Chasing Cars | ch 13 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: college anxiety, angst, Gabrielle, Lisa, alcohol, cursing, mentions of cheating, a frat party, explicit content: implied sex
☆word count: 8.9k
☆a/n: more angst oop- I hope you guys like it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, August 30
Summer came and went. Like everything in life, it became just a moment in time, a short movie consisting of flashing scenes of friendship and fun and sun, of pools and tanning and hikes. Summer was perfect, summer was healing, yet summer couldn’t heal everything.
Summer hasn’t healed a doe-eyed boy from your heart, but you think it’s okay. You think, perhaps your love for Jungkook is just everlasting, another one of those memories you know you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.
You reckon, if you were to have kids one day and they’d asked you who your first love was, you wouldn’t be able to answer their father.
It will always be Jungkook, no matter the bitterness and the pain of the ending.
It’s his necklace you wear on your heart every day after all.
You’ve worked all summer, amassing money to cover your expenses for the year. You’ve gone back home with Taehyung for a week your mother had off, and you spent it camping like you did when you were kids, gaze getting lost in starlight and sun rays on the water, reflections of light that left afterimages on your retina.
Much like Jungkook is an afterimage on your heart. Never fully erased, yet the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. Like the time soothed its edges, reminding you of the good part, allowing you to let go of the bad.
The first news you had of Jungkook this summer was stories posted on a Saturday evening, of him and Lisa and friends in New York City. Turns out Lisa landed an internship at an architect firm in New York through her father’s connections, and turns out it was all she needed to be welcomed into Jeon Jungkook’s world over there.
You’d been jealous back then, bitterly so. Yoongi, bless his heart, had forced you to hang out at his place, claiming the empty room needed to be repainted before Namjoon moved in for the semester. It’d been a good distraction, and by the end of the weekend, you’d realized that Jungkook was allowed to have friends, to move on from your idyllic moment in his life.
It hurt, but it was a sign of healing.
You got closer to Yoongi over the summer. Learned all about his past, about his high school and how his parents were supportive when he came out, yet reluctant when he brought his first boy home. He’d told you how he met Hoseok in his last year of high school despite not attending the same school, and how their friendship had immediately blossomed.
Only to wither in April, when Hoseok had chosen to leave. None of you or your friends have had any news of him since then, like he wiped his existence from all of your lives like it was nothing. It’s been hard for Yoongi, harshly so, so you’ve made sure to always be available for him, too.
Namjoon and Nabi’s relationship didn’t suffer such a fate. They’ve only been growing stronger over the summer, proof that despite Namjoon getting out of his relationship with his ex and jumping in the one with Nabi right away, they were meant for each other. In truth, you’ve never seen anyone love each other like Namjoon and Nabi do, and maybe that most of all has healed your bleeding heart.
There has to be someone out there who’ll love you like you’re the one who paints his every sunset. 
Seokjin wasn’t on the receiving end of such a relationship. He’d confessed to Ria halfway through the summer, telling her that he couldn’t do the see-saw anymore, that he needed everything or nothing, and in good Ria fashion, your friend ran. She ran and ran, until Seokjin told her he was ashamed of having believed she deserved to be loved.
The blow has been hard on Ria, and she hasn’t been with anyone since then. Hasn’t mentioned Seokjin once either, but you know that, whenever you go out, he’s the one she’s looking for. 
The strangest part of this summer happened on a random Tuesday evening when you’d just come home from work. Taehyung and Ariane, ever so the lovebirds, had been hanging out in the living room when you’d crossed the threshold. Taehyung’s gaze had shot to you, and he’d uttered words you think have been carved into your brain.
“Did you know Jungkook is the heir of JJS pharmaceuticals?” 
You did. You knew about his father’s company - he’d told you once when you’d been lying with your head on his chest, one of the rare times he’d talked about his family after your weekend escapade to New York.
But you knew Jungkook’s existence had been mostly a secret, his father refusing to announce his existence to the world because Jungkook had refused to study at an Ivy League College.
At the confusion on your face - or rather, the masked pain you’d been hiding for weeks and months - Taehyung had added, “There was a conference press, and he’s all over social media.”
He was. You found out quickly enough, articles and articles about him showing up on your Instagram as well. You’d seen pictures from the press conference: though his father had been smiling wide, Jungkook had only been staring at the camera, like he’d wished he could disappear.
You don’t know what led him to accept a position at his father’s company before he’d even graduated, but you knew then and know now that it had to not have been his choice.
So indeed, summer came and went until it became just a memory, and the new semester now looms over the horizon, a reminder that though your skin might have been sunkissed these last few months, it’s now time to return to reality.
You’re sitting in the kitchen, indulging in Buldak noodles as you read a book about Faes and High Lords and a Night Court. You’ve started reading again over the summer, another way to escape that helped fill your breaks at work when you didn’t go out for lunch with your coworkers. It was nice to reconnect with your previous love for reading - indeed, you’d spent years in middle school and high school getting lost in fantasy and dystopian worlds, and recovering this part of you might have been another way to heal.
It’s reminded you that every story is worth telling, even those that don’t end well.
So you sit at the kitchen table, halfway done with your noodles, when the front door opens and closes. 
“Hello!” you greet out of reflex.
Taehyung and Ariane were out shopping for groceries, and though they haven’t left a long time ago, you assume it’s them coming home.
“Do you need any help?” you ask as no one replies, which is strange.
They’re always talking about everything and nothing, joking around like they’re the only people in the world. It’s something you do find cute, but that always grates your nerves in all the wrong ways.
Where Nabi and Namjoon have been making you feel hopeful when it comes to love, Taehyung and Ria have made you jaded too.
The silence prolongs, and you don’t even hear them taking off their shoes. You furrow your brows, wondering if they’re trying to prank you. So you put your book down even though you are in the middle of a good scene, and you push up from the table, heading towards the kitchen’s doorway.
You reckon, maybe you should have expected it. You’d known he was coming back at some point - he still has a year left of college. But you didn’t think he’d show up on an early Friday evening, clutching his duffel bag and standing by the door like he’s a guest in his own home.
He’s changed. The first thing you notice is that he’s changed: he doesn’t have the eyebrow piercing anymore, his hair is shorter - almost entirely shaved at the sides - and though he still has the lip piercings, he looks different than what you remember.
As if a few months was enough to blur your memories of Jeon Jungkook, and the wound you’d thought to be healed over the last few months reopens, pouring liquid lava on your entire body until you think you’re burning, and not in a good way.
He’s dressed in all black, like some things don’t change after all. He looks more built than he was last semester, like he’s gone to the gym a lot more over the summer. His tattoos have also changed - they’ve been coloured, some of them, as if he tried to put colours back into his life.
You hope it worked. But when you hold his gaze, the heaviness making you want to disappear through the floor, you think maybe it didn’t work at all.
“Y/n,” he greets.
His voice has changed too. Or maybe it’s just the emotions, maybe it’s just the fact that the last thing he ever told you were those words in the letter you keep hidden in your night table, words you’ve romanticized every night trying to fall asleep.
Not that you would tell anyone.
“Jungkook,” you reply in the same tone.
He nods once, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he takes off his shoes. You watch him, dumbly standing in the doorway, and he shoots you a look once his shoes - black boots that look far too warm for the summer - are off.
“How are you?”
His three words throw you off. They make you feel like last semester might have been a construct of your imagination, but then again you hold that letter too dearly, and the memories of him have been your favourites for months now.
“I’m okay,” you reply, nodding once. “How are you?”
He pulls on his piercings, the gesture familiar yet so different than how you’ve been imagining it every night. “I’m chill.”
He starts to walk towards his room, but he stops halfway there, glancing over your head into the kitchen. 
“Want something to eat?” you ask, and you wonder if he hears your heart as it picks up in your chest.
You see the moment he spies the Buldak noodles on the table. He smiles softly, with his eyes first, and you think maybe this is it.
Maybe he came back home.
Came back home to you.
But then his features fall, the smile vanishing and darkness invading his gaze. He shakes his head no, nodding towards his room. “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”
You watch him walk the rest of the way towards his bedroom. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he freezes there. His shoulders tense, and even though you don’t see his features, you know he wants to say something else.
You hope he will, hope he’ll say something that might mend the bridge between the two of you. That might erase this abyss between you and him until the ending disappears.
You know it’s because you haven’t seen him in a long time. Know that, when it all comes down to it, you wouldn’t go back to him - he broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to return to him. But you like to imagine that you would as he stands there, that you’d run to him if he turned and said the right words.
But he doesn’t. He sighs, and then he walks into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. And as he disappears from view, you feel yourself stumble, like you’ve taken a hit right to the chest. You lay a hand over your beating heart, almost expecting to feel blood trickling through your fingers.
As if he’s just broken your heart all over again, torn it from your ribcage. Yet it breaks - you didn’t think he still had that power over you.
Hell, you thought you’d been moving on.
You walk back into the kitchen, the room spinning around you. You drop in the chair you were sitting in before, eyeing your book. And though you want to get lost in the fantasy world again, you’re bleeding out on your chair, pain burning along every single one of your nerves.
How are you supposed to share a roof with the one that broke your heart?
The answer is easy. You can’t.
You need to get out of here, and quickly.
Monday, September 2nd 
Your first day back to college is long. You’ve got two classes - a morning and an afternoon class, both of them three hours long. 
When the second one ends - luckily half an hour early ‘because it’s the first day’ as the professor said - you make your way out of class with Nabi. She’s typing away on her phone, likely asking Namjoon when he’ll be home, yet she follows you as you head to the dorms.
You’ve been crashing at the girls’ dorm over the weekend, as you try to figure out what you should do. You haven���t figured anything yet - Taehyung’s been telling you that you shouldn’t move out, asking if it’s because of Ariane moving in, and though you’ve been good at avoiding mentioning Jungkook, there’s just so much you can do before you burst and admit that it’s because of him.
But it’s okay - Nabi’s been staying with Yoongi and Namjoon, so you have her bed all to yourself, and Ria and you have been treating it like a massive sleepover, doing face masks every night and getting mildly drunk on Saturday.
Nabi sighs as you walk towards the dorms, and you throw her a look. 
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel like this semester is about to be the worst,” she admits, slightly shaking her head. “Namjoon basically confirmed it.”
You hook your arm with hers, resting your head on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. We’re in this together.”
“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the top of our class.”
“And you’re the second,” you remind her. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”
She nods, heaving out a heavy breath again. “Is it bad that I’m already anxious?”
You don’t reply right away, as you pass through a group of engineer students gathered in front of a class, most likely getting ready for an evening class. An evening class on the first Monday… 
You feel bad for them.
“It’s not bad,” you reply once you’ve finally walked past. “It means that you care about your grades. You just need to not let it eat you alive.”
“I think I’m just realizing that getting into med school might be harder than we thought,” she says with a sigh.
You stop, tugging on her arm so that she stops too. “No, I’m not having any of that,” you tell her. “We’ll both get in, Nabi, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, folding her arms on her chest.
“Yup.” You nod forcefully. “Dead serious. And after that, it’s smooth sailing until residency. And then we get a residency together, and we become sexy doctors.”
“Bruh,” she lets out, and she chuckles.
You’re happy your distraction works because you truthfully didn’t know where you were headed with it. “I promise!” you insist. “Give us a couple of years, and we’ll have our own practice.”
“You want to be a surgeon, and I want to be an ophthalmologist,” she reminds you. “Not quite sure we’d practice at the same place.”
You shrug, and you start walking towards the dorms again. “To be fair, we’ll probably both end up at a hospital. We just need to find a way to work at the same one.”
She purses her lips. “That sounds doable.”
You smirk mischievously. “Damn right.”
*****
Nabi ends up staying with you and Ria at the dorm for a couple of hours after class, and you order takeout that you eat sitting in a circle on the floor like you usually do when you do pre-drinks before a party. It’s fun, more chill than a pre-party gathering, and Ria tells you all about how she ran into Seokjin on campus today.
“He didn’t even look at me,” she admits. “What a dick.”
You exchange a knowing look with Nabi. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” you try.
“He ignores me when we all hang out together too,” she points out. “He’s doing it on purpose.”
Nabi scrunches up her nose. “Yeah… you did lead him on for months.”
“Not my fault if he fell in love,” Ria grumbles, her gaze dropping to the rice bowl she’s eating.
“It might not be your fault, but you still led him on,” Nabi pushes.
Ria huffs a breath, scoffing, but she doesn't say anything. She never really does when it comes to Seokjin anyway.
“Why are you so against the idea of being with him again?” you ask.
The scalding look you earn would put a dragon to shame. “Because I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she says, sounding like you a year ago when your friends had been pestering you about Hoseok.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“We all know he’d treat you like a goddess though,” Nabi says. “The guy’s a hopeless romantic.”
Ria rolls her eyes. “Cringe.”
You playfully push her, and she bursts out laughing. You don’t miss the way her cheeks have dusted with pink though - and neither does Nabi - but you don’t mention it.
You have a feeling Ria is lying to herself more than she’s lying to the both of you, but you’d never dare tell her. She’ll figure it out on her own or not, and that’s what being in college is.
You try stuff; some of it works, and some doesn’t. 
Jungkook invades your thoughts, your chest aching all over again. You reach for the peach at the end of the chain, playing with the pendant mindlessly as if that can tame the ache, push it back to the back rooms of your mind.
It barely works, yet you manage to be able to let go of him after a few deep breaths, and a prolonged silence of Nabi staring at Ria while the latter is solely focused on eating. Your unease went unnoticed, which you reckon is a relief.
Confiding in them about Jungkook has helped over the summer, obviously, but there are some things you want to keep to yourself. Because Jungkook deserves the centrepiece in all of the secrets you’ve ever held - he was the grandest of them all last semester after all.
Still is, considering you’ve been lying to Taehyung about him all summer. Not that you really had to lie. You just avoided mentioning Jungkook, staying vague about your semester while Taehyung told you everything about Paris. 
And so you end up saying goodbye to Nabi when she decides to go over to Yoongi and Namjoon’s apartment - Namjoon was quick to take Hoseok’s old room, seeking to leave the dorms once and for all - and you and Ria watch Demon Slayer, her favourite anime.
Coincidentally one of Jungkook’s favourite animes too, not that it matters.
You sigh - reminders of him are everywhere lately, and though you have been moving on over the summer, the ache has been revived. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he at home, watching anime or playing video games? Is he hanging out with Taehyung, with Jimin and their other friends? Or is he locked up in his room like he was all of Friday, before you fled the apartment?
It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Because Jungkook will always matter: he meant too much to you. Still does, and you don’t know what to make of it.
Ria sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts as the episode finishes. You glance at her - you’re lying side by side on her bed, a laptop in between you to watch the show.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her.
She purses her lips, shrugging, though it proves to be awkward considering the position. “I don’t know. It’s just… Is something wrong with me?”
A concerned crease appears between your eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know…” She pauses, gaze still focused on the laptop screen as if she can’t bring herself to meet your own. “Why am I so opposed to relationships? To love in general?”
Oh. 
“Oh Ria…” you let out.
“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want to be pitied.”
You press your lips in a tight line, nodding once. She chuckles, and then she starts the next episode, like she needs a moment to collect her thoughts.
“It’s just…” she says as Tanjiro fights a demon, the fight continued from the last episode. “I’m aware that Seokjin would be good for me. I enjoyed spending time with him too. But the second he mentioned feelings…”
“It turned you off,” you complete for her.
She nods. “It really did.”
“Why do you think it did?” you ask, even though you know it has to be because of her ex.
She sighs deeply. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I had a loving family growing up, so I can’t blame it on that. I had friends too, good friends, but then when my ex cheated…”
“It broke the part of you that could trust easily,” you say. “And it’s understandable, and totally valid.”
“I guess so…” she trails off. “I just feel like letting someone in is too much of a vulnerability.”
“That makes sense,” you say. “You like being in control, and you feel like being in a relationship would make you lose control.”
She glances at you, eyes slightly narrowed. “Sometimes I swear to God you sound like a therapist.”
You laugh - it’s not the first time you’ve been told that. Yoongi said so last semester too, when you’d helped him get over Hoseok.
“Don’t ask me for advice though,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “I don’t think I’d have any good advice.”
“Not to be mean, but after what you put yourself through last semester, I don’t think your advice would be really helpful,” she teases.
You widen your gaze. “That was mean.”
She pouts, offering you puppy eyes. You push her on the shoulder, and she rolls on her back, laughing. “No, but seriously,” she says. “I don’t blame you. You fell in love, and that’s not your fault, is it?”
You remain silent, not wanting the conversation to turn to Jungkook. 
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes after a few seconds of silence. “You’re right, that was mean.”
“You’re not wrong, though,” you reassure her. “I saw all the red flags and chose to ignore them.”
Ria turns on her side again, facing you. “That’s love for you. Everyone ignores all the red flags the moment they start having feelings for someone else.”
Like Seokjin, but you don’t say it. You highly doubt she needs to hear it.
“Cheers to that,” you say, though you are void of any beverage at the moment.
You’ve left your water bottle on the floor, too far to reach from where you’re lying in bed.
“You know what we should do?” Ria says a while later, when the episode is coming to an end. “We should go to the party on Friday. The one Dave’s frat is hosting.”
The name Dave rings an extremely distant bell - you think you went to a party hosted by his frat last semester, but you’re not quite sure.
“I thought we were already planning to go.”
Ria looks at you, mischief slowly filling her gaze. “We should go and find some cute guys to forget about all of our problems with.”
You laugh. “Men aren’t the solution to everything, you know that, right?” you tease.
“Oof. They’re the root of the problem most of the time, I know.” She pauses, purses her lips. “But we’re due to have fun. You know Nabi and Namjoon will come for an hour or two and disappear anyway.”
“What about Yoongi?”
“We’ll find him someone too! He deserves it.” She nods, clearly convinced that her plan is the best she’s ever come up with.
And Yoongi does, you think that out of the three of you, he’s the one that deserves a healthy relationship the most. 
So you nod your head, saying, “It’s going to be lit.”
You can only hope that it is and that you don’t end up crying because of a certain doe-eyed man you should have let go of months ago.
Friday, September 6th  
[11:17 am] bröther👽: just letting you know that Gaby is in town so Ari will be staying with her [11:17 am] bröther👽: come home
The texts Taehyung sent to you in the morning sit unanswered on your phone. Mostly because you didn’t know what to say - he still firmly believes you’ve decided to move out because of Ariane, and you think it might have killed a possible friendship with her in the bud.
If only they knew why you truly left. It likely wouldn’t be any better - Jungkook would be dead in a ditch somewhere, and you’d be grounded by your older brother like you were when you were in high school.
You know Taehyung is likely only going to grow suspicious if you ignore him, but you really just don’t know what to say. He’s likely going to be at the party tonight - you’ll make an effort to speak to him, to reassure him, and then you’ll disappear with your friends.
That is, if Jeon Jungkook isn’t with him. Because if Jungkook’s there, you’ll avoid Taehyung like the plague, no matter if that might make him even more suspicious.
“I literally cannot physically wait,” Ria says next to you, and you shoot her a quick look as she puts mascara on.
She’s going all out tonight, and you wonder if it’s because Yoongi mentioned Kim Seokjin will be in attendance. Obviously, you don’t want to attract her ire, so you don’t say it, but you reckon Seokjin has been a ghost in every conversation since last Monday.
Much like Jungkook has been, but you’ve been good at pretending he hasn’t.
“I really hope they’ve stocked up on free alcohol,” you say, knowing you’ll need it, mostly because if Taehyung is in attendance, then Ariane will likely be, and so will Gabrielle. 
Your heart sinks in your chest at the thought - you haven’t told Ria, not wanting to ruin her enthusiasm. 
“Do you want to curl your hair?” Ria says as she finishes with the mascara. 
You shrug. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it natural,” you answer. “But you should curl yours.”
She narrows her gaze, staring at herself in the mirror. “You know what, yeah, I should.”
You chuckle, and then you both busy yourself getting ready. You apply more makeup than you usually do, only because you know it’ll be a mask you’ll use all evening.
Does Gabrielle even know about your existence?
You finish getting ready, stealing from Ria’s closet to get dressed. You settle on a pair of black leather pants, along with a black crop top t-shirt that hugs tight to your frame, revealing just an inch of the bird tattoo you got done on your right ribs in May.
You stare at the ink, thinking about Taehyung’s reaction. He’ll likely be pissed at you, but you’re done caring. If he wants to be mad, then so be it.
“Your ass looks amazing in this,” Ria compliments from behind you, and you snort as you turn to look at her.
She’s wearing a sage green corset that leaves little to the imagination. You compliment her in return, and she winks at you, before suggesting to down a couple of shots before leaving. You immediately agree, and you’ve got a light buzz by the time you leave the dorms, heading to the frat house.
It’s already crowded by the time you get there, the loud music having attracted all the party-goers on campus. The front lawn is cramped, and Ria grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to head to the house proper.
You make it to the hall, and luckily enough, there aren't as many people here. You’re able to navigate to the living room, where Dave - he really is the guy from last semester - finds you, offering drinks to the two of you.
You grab a beer, not trusting the questionable punch that Dave claims was prepared earlier today. Ria follows your lead, and you clink bottles with Dave, who admits he has no clue what’s in the punch when you’ve all taken your first sips.
“Bruh, why were you trying to sell it to us then?” Ria asks, eyebrows raised.
Dave laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Colton said it was good.” 
Colton… you wonder if it’s the same Colton that had warned you about Jungkook once.
“And we’re supposed to trust Colton?” Ria teases.
Dave winces. “Not really, no, he’s already drunk.”
Ria nods as you take a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid heady on your tongue. You turn your head to the side, noticing a very distraught Yoongi walking into the living room, followed close by an even more distraught Seokjin. You wave them over, and Ria and Dave both turn their heads towards the new arrivals.
You notice Ria tensing from the corner of your eye, and Seokjin looks just as uncomfortable as he stops next to you. You hug Yoongi hello, and he doesn’t let you go right away, whispering in your ear, “This place is a shitshow, I don’t think we’ll stay.”
You pout as you pull away. “We said beer pong,” you remind him.
He rolls his eyes, though you know he’s always liked playing beer pong. So you manage to convince him to go for at least one game, though you know you’ll have to wait in line for a while before it’s your actual time to play. It makes for an awkward waiting - Ria and Seokjin are both ignoring each other, and Yoongi and you are standing in the middle, trying to engage in conversation.
You’re finally on the side of the table when you recognize your brother’s laugh, a sound you were sort of hoping not to hear in this crowd. You look to your left - he’s by the garden doors that lead to the backyard, Ariane cuddled up against him, and you think the girl standing with her back to you has to be Gabrielle.
“Shit,” you let out.
Yoongi furrows his brow at the sudden curse. “What’s wrong?” You motion towards the door, and his eyes widen. “Is that who I think it is?”
He knows about Gabrielle. He’s stalked her with you, during one of your many downward spirals, and Gabrielle has that kind of aura that is all too recognizable, even if you’ve only seen her once in a picture.
“I think so,” you reply, and Ria finally leans in to join the conversation.
“Is that Gaby?” she asks, loud enough for the people around you to hear.
You tap her arm, giving her a warning glance, though you’re pretty sure no one’s actually listening. Even Seokjin didn’t glance towards you at the outburst.
But Taehyung notices you, and you quickly turn away, pretending to be focused on the game unfolding on the table in front of you. There’s one cup on the left, three on the other side, and the girls playing are clearly more talented than you: they both shoot it in the lone glass when their turn comes, hugging as they shriek in happiness from their victory.
“Let’s go,” Ria says, and she pulls you to one end of the table as soon as the girls have moved. 
Yoongi and Seokjin take the other side, even though Seokjin truly does appear like he wishes he wasn’t here, and you put the cups back into their spot, reorganizing the table.
Your brother appears next to you before you start, and you offer him a tight-lipped smile.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks. 
“Me?” you let out, your voice uncharacteristically high. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says through gritted teeth, the typical Kim temper flaring up.
You grab the neon orange ball Ria hands you, shrugging your shoulders. “I haven’t. Just been busy.”
He clenches his jaw, yet remains silent as you focus on the table, preparing for the first shot, the one that determines who between you and Ria or Yoongi and Seokjin will play first.
You’re against Yoongi, so you know you’ve already lost when you shoot. To your surprise, Yoongi misses, his ball bouncing off on the side of a cup. Yours flies way off the table, and you wince.
“That was trash,” Taehyung comments.
“Thanks,” you fire back.
Ria and Seokjin throw, and Ria surprisingly manages to get the shot. You clap your hands as she offers you a thumbs-up.
“Seriously though,” Taehyung asks, handing you the ball that Seokjin threw. “What’s wrong? Why did you move out?”
“Hold on,” you say. 
You take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety of his questioning away, and you throw. The ball stays on the table this time, bouncing right next to one of the cups.
“Honestly it’s just so that I can spend time with Ria,” you answer, motioning to your friend. “She’s going through shit.”
Ria tenses next to you, offering you a quick glare before she focuses on shooting, unfortunately missing the cups.
“Oh,” Taehyung lets out. “I thought it was because of Ari.”
Speaking of Ari, you don’t see her anywhere near. You wonder where she went off to - are you lucky enough that she and Gabrielle left the party?
“Not at all,” you reply, and then you focus on the game as Seokjin and Yoongi prepare to throw. They both make it into a cup, and you clink your almost empty beer with Ria’s, taking a long sip before you move the cups to the side. “Ari’s super sweet.”
“She’ll be relieved when I tell her so,” Taehyung admits. “She was saying she could leave if it was an issue with you that she moves in with us.”
“It really isn’t,” you reassure Taehyung, feeling momentarily guilty for making Ariane feel like that. “I’ll probably come back eventually too.”
Taehyung’s eyes light up. “That’d be sick. We need to start doing Taco Tuesdays again.”
Taco Tuesdays. You’d forgotten all about them last semester - you’d spent every Tuesday last fall eating tacos with Taehyung, Jungkook joining once in a while. It was a tradition you’d had growing up with your mother too - when she wasn’t too busy working.
“I’m down,” you reply, and you get ready to throw.
To your surprise, you make the shot, landing it in the first cup at the front. Ria throws hers, and it bounces on the rim of one of the glasses before Seokjin catches it expertly. 
“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” you ask.
Everything stills inside of you. You don’t even know why you asked - you didn’t even think about it before the question fell. But then again, you think it makes sense that Jungkook would invade your thoughts now. 
When does he not?
Ria throws you a curious look at the question, though you don’t miss the disapproval in the furrow of her brows. 
“JK?” Taehyung says, as if he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so. He says he wants to focus on college this semester.”
You nod curtly, getting ready to defend your cups as Seokjin and Yoongi throw. To your luck, they both miss, and you let Ria shoot first as you focus on Taehyung again.
“Makes sense now that he has to work for his father’s company, no?” you say, trying to sound as if you don’t care.
As if Jungkook is not the center of your universe, still to this day.
“I guess so,” Taehyung comments, and you throw, entirely missing the table again.
Ria lands hers in a cup though, which leaves four cups in front of the boys and three in front of you and Ria.
“I still can’t believe the motherfucker is rich and he never told us,” Taehyung adds.
You get the feeling. You still think New York was a fever dream - even more so now that you’ve lost Jungkook. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, and it trickles down your body, burning all along the way.
“It’s crazy,” you let out, and it sounds just as flat as you feel - like maybe your heart just flatlined in your chest.
Taehyung makes a non-committal sound, and you’re able to focus on the rest of the game without any interruption. You evidently end up losing to Seokjin and Yoongi, and you shake hands with the boys, congratulating them for their win, even though you’d all expected it. 
“I’ll go get something to drink,” Taehyung says when you finally glance his way again. “Stay away from the punch.”
And then he leaves, and you mimic him as he walks away, raising your middle finger to his back. Ria snorts next to you, and you laugh along with her.
“He’s making me want to have some of the punch,” she says, and you laugh harder.
“Hard pass,” Seokjin says, and Ria stiffens next to you. “I tasted it, and it tastes like piss.”
“Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone pissed in it,” Yoongi says. “This party is…”
“Juvenile?” you provide.
Ria laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “It’s fun, stop.”
She sounds just as unconvinced as you think she seems, yet you all don’t mention it, which you reckon happens a lot around her lately. 
“I think we’ll head out,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “Want to have a beer back at my place?”
“And disturb the lovebirds?” Ria answers. “No thank you.”
Indeed, Namjoon and Nabi chose to stay in tonight, and you don’t have to use a lot of brain power to imagine what they might be doing right now, when they finally have full privacy in the apartment.
“Right,” Yoongi lets out. He winces, then shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here for a couple of hours, then.”
He says that in Seokjin’s direction, who runs a hand on his forehead before nodding. “Can we at least go outside?”
“Sure. You girls coming?” Yoongi asks, motioning to the backyard.
Ria doesn’t even wait for you to reply, instead tugging you towards the garden doors. You stop her, glancing over your shoulder. “I actually really have to pee, but I’ll join you guys outside?”
She narrows her gaze in suspicion, and you furrow your brows. She leans in, whispering, “Are you trying to leave me alone with Seokjin?”
You snort. “Not at all,” you reply, patting her hand on your arm. “I genuinely am just about to pee myself. You know how I am with beer.”
She fake-gags, and you playfully push her as she bursts out laughing. “Ayt, we’ll be outside.” 
You wave them goodbye, and Seokjin awkwardly waves back before following Yoongi and Ria. You chuckle at the sight before heading to the bathroom, which you think is probably on the second floor.
So you make it towards the staircase you see in the corner, squeezing through the crowd and apologizing all the way, though most people are too drunk to even notice you. You successfully make it to the staircase, and you walk around the group of girls sitting on the steps, making it to the second floor unscathed. 
“Bathroom?” a guy who clearly looks like he belongs to the frat asks you.
You almost startle at the unexpected question, though you recover quickly, nodding your head. 
“Last door on the left,” he tells you. “I think someone’s in there right now though.”
“Should I not wait then?” you ask.
He chuckles. “From what I saw when I exited it was just one girl alone so, you should be good.”
“Thanks,” you answer, offering him a small smile, and he nods once before heading down the stairs, though he quickly realizes that it might be too big of a feat. He indeed just plops down on the stairs, striking up a conversation with the girls there.
They look like they know him, so you walk away, heading to the last door on the left. You lean against the wall outside, pulling your phone out of your pocket. 
No notifications greet you, so you push it back into your pocket, right as the door unlocks, and then opens.
You freeze, just as much as she does. Both of your gazes widening, until she lets out a small, “Hello”, the word heavy with a French accent.
Of course, the girl in the bathroom had to be Gabrielle.
“Hi,” you reply, and you try to smile, though you’re not sure it works.
“You’re Taehyung’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks.
You nod curtly. “The one and only.”
She smiles. “Thought so.” There’s a pause as she doesn’t move from the doorway, and you just wait, awkwardness filling every inch of you. 
Her next sentence throws you off the axis you’ve been spinning on for months now, and you just stare at her in disbelief. 
“You’re not with Jungkook tonight?” she asks.
You feel hot and cold at the same time, your heart rate picking up uncomfortably in your chest. Your palms turn clammy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if sweat appeared on your temples.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She frowns. “I thought Ari said…” she trails off, and then she shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.” She smiles gently. “I’m happy he’s got you now.”
You think your eyes are bulging out of your head. They have to - the conversation isn’t making any sense, and you aren’t drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol.
“What?”
Her frown reappears. “Aren’t you two dating now?”
You laugh. It’s a sad, pathetic laugh, and Gabrielle looks at you like you’re crazy.
“He cheated on me with you,” you say. “Why would I be dating him?”
The frown falls, replaced by utter surprise. Her mouth opens on a silent ‘Oh’, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself, and then she says, “Non mais putain qu’il est con.”
You don’t speak French, so all you can do is cock an eyebrow quizzically. And then she lets out a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head.
“I told him to tell you,” she says, and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “But he’s really stupid sometimes.”
“I’m sorry?”
She offers you a small smile bordering on pity, and you brace yourself for what she’ll say next.
“Fille, I’m gay,” she says. “Jungkook was always only pretending to be my boyfriend so my family wouldn’t know. I didn’t know about you when I kissed him in Paris, and I only kissed him because Ari was growing suspicious.” 
You think you’re frozen in place. Like, stared into Medusa’s eyes and turned to stone frozen in place. All you can do is stare at Gabrielle, unblinkingly, as her words spin round and round in your head, caught in a dizzying tornado you can’t follow.
“I told him to tell you,” she repeats, and she sounds far too apologetic for the erratic beating of your heart. For the realization that she just hit you with.
You think she hit harder than a physical slap would have.
“What?” you say, voice small and weak and oh so broken.
Months. You’ve been breaking for him for months… and for what? For a promise he refused to break, one that would have explained everything in a way that would have made you work.
You would have forgiven him, no hesitation. Hell, you reckon you would have told him you loved him, would have told him you wanted to be with him from now on until you turn to dust.
But he had to choose to respect a promise he made years ago, to an ex that wasn’t really an ex after all, was she?
Just a friend from high school.
She was, after all, just a friend from high school.
She nods. “Yeah. He told me all about you.” She smiles again, though this time it’s just sad, like she knows just how shattered you are over this man. “I was rooting for you two.”
“He didn’t tell me,” you whisper as if Gabrielle hadn’t already pieced that together. “Why?”
She sighs. “He’s stupid,” she says as an explanation. “He’s the kind that’ll sacrifice himself if it means helping someone else. I suppose you know that already.”
You nod, because you do.
He sacrificed himself for you last semester when you got home crying on Valentine’s Day. And he sacrificed countless parties over his promise to Taehyung to look after you.
And he sacrificed you to protect Gabrielle’s secret.
“Holy shit,” you let out.
“Talk to him,” she says softly. “Go talk to him now. I’m not letting him lose you over me.” She scoffs, the frown she’d sported earlier returning. “I should have realized before. That he didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze widens, and you shake your head no. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”
It’s not your fault if he broke my heart.
It’s always just been his fault, hasn’t it?
But then again… you know now. You know that he never cheated on you, that he was right when he was saying that it wasn’t what you thought it was. 
You know that he was there, with you. That he felt for you what you felt for him, that he was chasing cars around your head, too.
And if there’s a chance you can salvage that, repair two hearts in one stone, you know you have to do it.
“I have to talk to him.” You say the words with quiet conviction, and Gabrielle nods, offering you an encouraging smile. “Fuck.”
“Go to him, fille,” Gabrielle says. “And tell him he’s an enfoiré for me.”
You highly doubt you’d be able to repeat that word, yet you still say, “Will do.”
And then you take off, entirely forgetting that you had to pee. You have one goal in mind, and it’s to run home, where you know he has to be according to what Taehyung said. You don’t even stop to text him, to confirm that he really is.
No, you run down the stairs, through the crowd and outside. The front lawn isn’t as crowded as earlier, and you easily make it to the sidewalk, skidding to a halt just long enough to change direction. 
And then you’re running home. Running home to him, your heart beating wildly. For the right reason this time. And as you run, lungs struggling to get enough oxygen in, thighs burning with heat, you feel infinite. You feel like you’re a star in the sky above, or maybe the moon returning to her lover. You feel like a bird soaring high, like a dolphin riding the waves.
You feel young and old and small and big, all at once. Like nothing is ever going to stop you again. You feel in love, you are in love, and after all the months of suffering, you reckon it’s the most beautiful feeling you’ve ever experienced.
You didn’t know you could sprint like you are right now, yet even though your body is straining, you’re not slowing down. You’ve pulled your phone out of your pocket to make sure it doesn’t fall as you run, yet you don’t slow down.
You can’t slow down anymore, not when your gravity finally aligned with his again.
Like it was always meant to be. Because it’s always been meant to be you and him, hasn’t it?
You make it home in a record time, climbing up the stairs… only to realize you don’t have your keys. They are back at the dorms, but it’s too late.
You try the door, and to your surprise, the doorknob turns, and you barge into your home, barge into this life with him.
You catch your breath as you stop in the hall, doubling over when you realize you’ve actually ran - sprinted - for nearly a mile. You’re lucky the frat house wasn’t further away - you highly doubt you would have made it home if it was any further.
“Y/n?” Jungkook says from his bedroom.
You straighten, trying to catch your breath. And the second your eyes land on him, you know it was all worth it.
Every single second of suffering was worth it to be here with him tonight.
“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.
He’s shirtless, his honey skin just as warm as you remember it to be. He’s in fact only wearing grey joggers, and his hands are lost in his pockets like he’s trying to look nonchalant.
The concern on his features tells you he, as a matter of fact, isn’t as nonchalant as he’s trying to appear.
“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”
“Yes?”
You laugh. You know you might look crazy, but you literally just ran a mile for this man, and each foot was worth it. 
The grandest journey of your life, wasn’t it?
“She told me,” you say.
He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”
“Gabrielle told me everything.” You surprise yourself by blinking away tears, and you let out a small laugh as you go to dry them.
Jungkook remains silent, just staring at you with horror slowly inching into his gaze. You don’t know how, or why, but it only occurs to you then that he might not be alone right now. 
“Kook?” you whisper, unable to say it louder.
Not when you’re slowly crashing down from the high.
“Y/n, I…” he trails off. He closes his eyes, head hanging low. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
You gulp as you swallow. “Yeah, huh.”
You look down, noticing a pair of sneakers you’ve never seen before.
It takes all of the courage you can muster up to look back up when the door of the bathroom opens, revealing a dishevelled Lisa, in only a t-shirt you recognize all too well.
You’d used to sleep in that t-shirt, too.
Lisa sees you after you see her, turning beet red. She’s naked under Jungkook’s shirt, or at least you think she is.
You assume she is considering that he’s shirtless too.
“Oh,” you let out.
Choke out might be a more appropriate word. Because you’re crashing, and you’re crashing hard. Hitting the wall at 120 mph, splattering on it until there’s nothing left of you. Nothing left of that hope you’d found at the party, the hope Gabrielle had so kindly gifted you even though she owed you nothing.
Someone’s screaming. You think someone’s screaming - is it just in your head?
“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were here.”
“I live here,” you reply, voice empty of any emotion.
She purses her lips, nodding once, and then she hesitantly walks out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry I… I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
Neither did you. Neither did Jungkook - it would have saved everyone a whole lot of breaking if you’d known. 
If you’d known that having hope for Jeon Jungkook was futile and useless. 
How could you even think you were meant to be with him? There is no universe for you and him out there. Just different worlds of breaking. Because it’s all your soul knows how to do - all your soul knows is to break for him, to shatter and crash and fracture for the man standing in front of his opened bedroom door.
“No worries,” you say, though this time your voice does wobble.
This time, the pain does colour your tone in heartbreak blue.
Jungkook just remains silent, like he’s suddenly gone mute. You think it’s better like this - if he were to say anything right now, you think you’d likely break down here. Instead, you take a deep breath, pat your pockets and say, “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”
Unable to help yourself, you glance towards Jungkook once. He meets your gaze - he looks infinitely pained, the heartbreak stark on his features too. There’s some reassurance in knowing that he’s breaking, too. That you’re doing it together. 
Heartbreak isn’t as lonely when you’re doing it together. 
“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.
She falls silent, clearly hearing the screaming in your head too.
You’re outside a second later, carefully closing the door behind you. Carefully severing the rest of your relationship with Jungkook, until all that is left is the memories.
You take a step back, looking at the door, thinking he might open, might come see you.
Thinking he might be your home after all.
But he doesn’t, the door staying stubbornly closed. You get the message - your souls were never meant to merge. The songs that you thought were about him, about you, about the two of you together, they were never about you. You were never meant to lie down and forget the world with him. 
Or maybe you were, but it came with an expiration date.
You reckon you and Jungkook have always had an expiration date. You just forgot tonight, became blind to it thanks to false, treacherous hope. And so you leave, walking down the stairs as you blink away the tears that are clinging to your waterline.
You embrace the heartbreak, let it sweep through you until you think it’s all you’ve ever known. And like a true companion, the heartbreak carries your steps through the night.
Prev | Chapter 13.5 | Next
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do I feel bad for the amount of angst I wrote into this story? Maybe a little. I promise one day things will get better for these two, but in the meantime, what did you guys think?
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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ambrosiagoldfish · 5 months
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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citrinae · 1 month
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holding hands with them.
contents; cloying, tooth-rotting fluff. goes well with coffee to cleanse the palate. there might be one itty-bitty mention of marineford. 🎀 
ft. east blue 5
masterlist
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⋆ ˚。༄ luffy 
the boldest one out there. if he feels like taking you by the hand, he’ll go ahead and do it, no matter the time or place. like everything about him, luffy won’t be any subtle when holding your hand either, swinging it with the widest smile, whistling a merry tune as you head your way. his hands may feel a little sticky from whatever he’s eaten at the time, but there’s also a comforting warmth to them sending butterflies to your stomach. when he holds your hand, he does it tightly, assertively, like he has never ever doubted his decision to let you enter his life.  
sometimes the thought of having a special someone to explore new places with has him so excited that he just grabs you by the wrist, or cups his hand around yours. he will lightly squeeze your palm with his thumb each time he wants to grab your attention to something he knows will make you smile, laugh, or both. at least once he tried to see how far his hand could bend from yours (pretty far, it’s all rubber after all). 
in a dangerous situation, a fight especially, there will be times when he will unconsciously search for your hand, an unsaid promise that he won’t lose. he will also do it as a way to assure himself that you’re still there, and you’re safe, a habit that might have something to do with marineford but he hadn’t realised he picked up until meeting you. he can’t afford to lose you, and feeling your hand into his is the one certainty that he's grown stronger and capable of protecting his dearest ones.
⋆ ˚。༄ zoro
even before it became clear to you that what you’re having breaks the norms of a friendship, it had been a habit to sunbathe together on the ship's deck. his lids would slowly fall close, tanned skin sliced in the light, hair ruffled by the breeze, and you would watch him fade into a distant universe as sleep took you over. 
you can’t tell if the first time it happened was more than the mere remembrance of a dream, but what’s certain is that soon enough you started to fall asleep to the peaceful sensation of his fingertips reaching yours, closer and closer each time, until one day you woke up to find your hand completely clasped in his. your mouth hitched into a small smile, wondering if this had ever happened before, or it was simply a moment you would forget before happening a second time. even now, you still find yourselves interlocking fingers in your sleep. he also likes to drape an arm over your shoulder, taking hold of your hand as he does, especially before falling asleep together. 
his hands are roughed up and battered from swordfighting; however they feel like velvet as they touch you, at first watchfully and only for a few fleeting seconds, and then with more certainty. he may still show some signs of hesitation when it comes to holding hands in plain sight, but he will gladly accept it if you’re the initiator. your hands will often find each other under tables, on his lap, around a bottle of booze if the two of you are out drinking. 
⋆ ˚。༄ nami
from time to time she may come up with different excuses for holding your hand. at first, it was when she offered to help you carry your shopping bag, “i left my perfume in there, i can’t afford to lose it because you were careless with the loot.” your fingers touched, and she left them there for a second, the realisation that she could be affectionate with you without feeling vulnerable rushing to her head like a shot of rum.
soon after you would start to notice her fingertips linger on several occasions. passing the sugar, applying sunscreen, asking you to lay out some maps for her. her skin is smooth and laced with the smell of tangerines and coconut milk. extremely well-kept. if she knows you’re reaching a more perilous portion of the sea (which luffy will insist on crossing), nami will take you by the hand, and you will estimate how scared she is by the tightness of her grip. 
definitely a fan of the one-finger hold. whenever the crew is free to take a breather and wander about a new island, nami will cheerfully jump out of the ship and offer you her arm, the space between you remaining roped along the way by nothing more but your tangled pinkies. at the dinner table, your fingers will often stay linked in the same way, a casual, subtle gesture, but a reminder that you will always have each other’s backs. 
⋆ ˚。༄ usopp
another one to hold your hand if the seas you’re going across are overfilled with monsters, but unlike nami, god usopp will do it to show off his bravery. he’s there to protect you, he goes on and on, and usually this will be accompanied by a story of his earliest travels on the sea. and yet, one questionable sound is all it takes for him to leap into your arms, later excused as his way to tell you that there once was this gruesome pirate lord who almost fell overboard in fear, but luckily he was there to catch them. captain usopp is nothing but a merciful soul.
extremely open and affectionate with his partner. when it comes to holding your hand, he won’t hesitate to do it in front of everyone so they all see he could pull someone as awesome as you. when he’s testing a new weapon, he loves it when you come from behind and place your hands on top of his, guiding each other towards your target. i feel that, with usopp, there will be plenty of moments where your hands will just top each other, during dinner or a party or simply while assisting him in the workshop. 
speaking of which. he works with his hands a lot, so they may catch a certain metallic scent, scarce traces of gunpowder under his nails and into his skin. but each time you end up cuddling under the stars and his hands tangle with yours, you begin to feel even more comforted since getting to notice these little things about him means you couldn’t be any closer. 
⋆ ˚。༄ sanji
if it isn’t the ultimate sucker for hand-holding. believe it or not, to him this pretty much seals the status of your relationship, so at the very beginning when things were rather uncertain between you, his worst nightmare would have been to initiate such an intimate gesture and be rejected. that was also around the time you started to do grocery shopping together, two forms pushing past the lively crowds, taking the moment to enjoy each other’s company somewhere away from the crew. 
sanji jolted when he felt the back of your hands brushing against each other, and then your forefinger coiling around his own, an open invite that paused the world for him for a couple of seconds. loosening the knot of his tie, he took your hand in his, fingers eagerly interlacing into a most soothing grip. ever since your relationship became established, you’ve come to notice that he often attempts to hold your hand, and each time he finds it, it’s a promise that you will always have his full and irrevocable attention. 
his hands carry the smell of the cigarettes he smokes, combined with that of some herbs he’s used in the kitchen, and seafood at worst times. they are smooth like silk when wrapped around yours, and emanate warmth each time he gently starts to stroke the skin with his thumb. he’d hold hands with you pretty much anywhere, but the times he feels the most relaxed are at the railing of the ship, during a cigarette break, or while walking behind the rest, leaving the impression of a freshly married couple on their honeymoon. 
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aperrywilliams · 1 month
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That Green Monster (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Summary: Your relationship with Spencer is fresh new, and some of his insecurities arise when someone new joins the team, making him react in a wrong way to you.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Fluff and Angst. And then fluff at the end (I don't even understand myself). Spencer lashes out. Spencer is insecure. Reader is mad. Both are so madly in love, though.
A/N: This one has been sitting as a WIP for way too long, so I decided to finish it today!
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A shot in the neck.
That's what it took for you and Spencer to - finally - get together. To confess you loved each other.
Everything happened while working a case in Texas. You had cornered a suspect who was hiding in a restaurant. You wanted to open a communication line with him, but out of nowhere, shots got fired. And one of them ended in your neck.
What happened next was a blur to everyone, especially to Spencer. He barely remembers Morgan pulling him back so that the paramedics could check on you.
The ambulance ride to the hospital and the hours of waiting for news were excruciating.
In Spencer's brain, only the thought that he might lose you forever without coming clean about his feelings for you.
You have been in a similar situation before, but this time, he thought you wouldn't make it.
It would be the loss of a friend and the loss of the love of his life.
If Spencer has to be honest, he realized he loved you after your first month working at the BAU. And with every passing day, the feeling only got stronger. But he was scared of saying anything, afraid of changing - or losing - the strong bond you guys already had.
So, he kept it to himself for years. For six years, to be exact.
But what he didn't know was you had fallen for him, too.
And how could you not? You both went through so many things over the years: Spencer's kidnapping, his Dilaudid problem, your family issues, the injuries, bad cases, unsubs attacks, hospital visits, and so on. With every bump in the way, you both were each other rock. Always together, no matter what.
The team affectionately called you Mulder and Scully, but in reverse roles, of course.
But even if, at some point, both of you realized what you had was much more than a friendship, neither of you did something about it.
Until you got shot in the neck.
In that uncomfortable waiting room chair, Spencer prayed, to whatever or whoever could listen, for a chance to make things right.
So when you woke up in your hospital bed hours later, the first thing you saw was Spencer's face.
He was by your side as always. But this time, he had something to tell you. Spencer didn't have the chance, though, because before he could say anything, three words blurted out from your lips: 'I love you.'
Between happy tears, you both spent hours talking and coming to the conclusion you were both idiots in love.
You didn't say anything to the team, but you all knew they knew, so it became unspoken knowledge after you were released from the hospital.
-------
With you home due to your neck injury and JJ on maternity leave, Hotch decided that some help would be better than putting more pressure on the remaining team members.
That's why he borrowed an agent from Sex Crimes.
Spencer had already told you that there was a new agent, but he hadn't developed this information in detail.
You knew him on your first day back, a month after you got shot.
Once you exited the elevator on the sixth, you headed through the bullpen glass doors. When you pushed them open, you didn't realize that someone was going in the opposite direction, and you almost hit the guy in the face with one of the doors.
"Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" you exclaimed when you realized what almost happened.
The man shook his head in dismissal. "No, no. Don't be. Nothing happened."
"But I almost hit you with a glass door," you pointed. The guy didn't seem phased by it, though.
"I'm okay, really," he insisted, flashing you a smile. You hadn't picked much of his appearance, to be honest, but the guy was easy on the eyes. Another thing that caught your attention was you had never seen him before.
"Do I know you?" You asked with curiosity.
"I don't think so. I'm Agent Dodds. Jake Dodds," he introduced himself, extending his hand. You've heard that last name before. You told him yours, shaking his hand.
"Really? You are a BAU member, right? I'm the backup agent Hotchner brought to the team," he explained, and then it clicked. He was the new guy.
Jake Dodds was young, fresh and motivated. After his first year in Sex Crimes, he already has a lot of accomplishments to show off. And, of course, he was doing his best to impress Hotch and the team.
Coming to the office bright and early and being the last to leave gave Dodds a chance to engage with the cases and the team members - you included. Due to your neck injury, you were mostly on desk duty, so you had enough time to help Jake with paperwork and all the questions he might have about past cases. And Dodds had many.
In the weeks that followed, he has spent a lot of time by your side, working with you when the team wasn't out of town.
It was part of your nature to be forthcoming and willing to teach others. And having worked at the BAU for almost six years, you felt like you could teach one thing or two.
Spencer loves that from you; it's one of the many things that made him fall in love with you. But for some reason, Jake's closeness to you started to bother him.
Spencer knew it was irrational and without foundation. Still, in the past weeks since Dodds joined, with each laugh from you when Jake cracked a joke, every time you sat together at the office a little too close, or every day you decided to have lunch with Jake rather than him, Spencer's jealousy only got stronger. It didn't help the team's comments about you and Jake.
'Dodds looks hooked by her'; 'The newbie definitely is flirting with her'; 'Really handsome view she has over there.'
Spencer could only bite his tongue. He could easily assume that the team was only messing with the situation, but the green monster growing inside didn't let him think clearly.
Spencer knew you, and you would never do something to hurt him, so why did he feel that uneasiness inside of him?
Maybe the fact you were in the early stages of your relationship made Spencer insecure. It was all new and fresh; he was happy with you, but although you both have known each other for years, he was inexperienced in the love department. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was different.
So instead of talking to you—which he knew was the right thing to do—Spencer did what he usually does when he feels overwhelmed: he shuts people out.
And you did notice, of course.
Something was troubling him, you knew that, but every time you brought up the topic, he dodged it. You didn't look much into it at first because you knew Spencer would talk to you eventually when he felt ready. Or you assumed he would.
But the days went by, and Spencer still hadn't told you why he had been so distant, so you decided to confront him.
You both were watching a movie at your place, but you noticed Spencer wasn't paying attention to the TV. After an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to bring this up, you tested the waters.
"Spencer, are you okay?" you asked him, genuine concern lacing your voice.
The question hung in the air enough to make you think he might not hear you.
"Spencer?" you tried again, swearing you heard him huff even if he tried to be subtle.
"I'm okay, just tired," he hastened to dismiss, not looking at you.
So he heard you, but you had to call his name again to get an answer. Something is definitely wrong.
Contemplating your options, you chose to end the 'patiently wait until he comes to you' strategy. You were his girlfriend now. Why he couldn't trust you enough to tell you what's going on?
"Okay. This bullshit needs to stop now. You have been weird for too many days to tell me now you are okay and just tired. I know something happened and need you to tell me what it is," you demanded.
Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, Spencer had an inner debate about coming clean to you. He didn't want to admit how much Jake's closeness to you was bothering him. Spencer didn't want you to think about him as the possessive and clingy boyfriend who can't see his girlfriend near other guys.
He wasn't like that, right?
"You are imagining things. I'm perfectly fine," Spencer deadpanned, eyes returning to the TV.
Your mouth went slack. Were you imagining things? Was he thinking you were stupid?
"So I'm imagining things, uh? It's not you being defensive right now, isn't it?"
"No." He gave you a curt answer that meant precisely the opposite of what he was implying.
You wanted to give him a chance to open with you, but Spencer wasn't engaging.
It seemed easier to talk about what was happening to each other when you were only friends. Why is it so hard now you are a couple? You couldn't understand, and your patience was running short.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you called him out in frustration. "Who do you think I am? A random person who hasn't known you for fucking six years?"
Spencer internally flinched. He saw the confusion and anger mixed in your eyes, and he felt the urge to hug you tight, telling you he was being an irrational jealous asshole. But Spencer didn't bring himself to do it, and instead, he tried to play cool and detached.
"I already told you. Everything is wonderful, at least for me. Not for you?" Spencer asked casually.
You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked calm and collected, but you could feel he was anything but.
"Okay. I'll bite the bullet. So the distance between us in the past weeks doesn't bother you as it bothers me," you concluded.
Spencer let out a bitter chuckle.
"Funny you're bothered by that. You have seemed very busy in the past weeks," Spencer mumbled.
A slip that didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Very busy?" you echoed his words. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Spencer shrugged, unamused.
"Exactly what it is. You have been very busy at the BAU lately. I only have been giving you space."
You squinted your eyes, raking your brain to understand Spencer's meaning. For your mandatory desk duty, you have spent more time in the office than in the field, but besides that, what has been different?
And then it clicked on you. Jake Dodds.
Sure, you've been very willing to teach him things and help him with his work, but that only explains Spencer's annoyance if there is another reason.
"Is this about Dodds? Are you jealous of Jake?" you questioned in disbelief.
Spencer's face paled. You had caught him.
After your deduction, he should have told the truth, but Spencer is stubborn enough not to give in, especially if that meant recognizing something he felt embarrassed of.
"W- what?! No! Where did you get that? I'm not jealous or remotely close to that," Spencer rebutted defensively.
Oh, he was definitively jealous. At the realization, you let out a giggle, eyes softening at your boyfriend. For you, there is no guy he should be worried about- not for Jake or any other person. Your heart is his, and you know there is nobody in this world you want to be with more than Spencer.
But Spencer's face deflated. You were laughing at him, and he felt even worse.
"Spencer, there is no reason for you to be -"
You couldn't even finish your sentence when Spencer cut you off, standing from the couch.
"I already told you! Am I not speaking English to you?"
His face was red, but not by embarrassment anymore. Now, it was a kind of contained rage.
Stunned by his reaction, it took you a few seconds to say anything.
"I - I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Don't be rude," you chimed.
Spencer let out a humorless chuckle.
"Rude, did you say? Am I rude because I disagree with you? Is that? Or am I rude because this doesn't have to do with you?"
"Excuse me? When did this turn into a problem related to me?"
You stood to mirror his stature so as not to look vulnerable.
"I don't know, you tell me. Are you disappointed because not everything or anyone in this world is revolving around you?"
Spencer's voice was cold and sarcastic, something you had seen in him before but never directed toward you. He was outrightly saying you were self-centered.
"Spencer -" you tried to warn him to back off, but Spencer didn't stop.
"No. I get it. You like the attention. But, I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish self. Maybe the young and funny Agent Dodds could help you with that. But not me."
A dead silence settled in the room. If a needle had fallen on the floor, it would have made a noticeable noise.
You couldn't believe that man was your boyfriend—the man who was telling you such hurtful words.
Spencer saw how your features morphed from confused to hurt and then to offense, and with a twist in his guts, he knew he had fucked up.
"Are you done?"
Your tone was flat and collected, even if, on the inside, there was a storm of feelings. Spencer was deflated and looking for the right words to apologize.
"Hey, look, I'm -"
"I asked if you were done." You questioned harshly this time, and Spencer only gave you a shy nod.
"Okay, now get out!"
Your command was only followed by your actions as you walked to your entrance to open the door.
With horror, Spencer tried to sputter words to change your mind.
"I'm sorry. I - I didn't - Please, don't do this."
"I said, get out! I don't want you here!"
You emphasized your words, gesturing to the open door.
"Baby, I wasn't - I didn't mean what-" Spencer tried again, but you had made up your mind and didn't want to hear him.
"I don't fucking care! You had your time to explain yourself, and I don't want to hear anything else from you."
Spencer knew that nothing he could say at that moment would help his cause, so like a dog with the tail between his legs, he slowly made the walk of shame towards your door, but not before looking at you and begging for forgiveness with his eyes. It was a useless thing because you didn't even look at him back. Once he was out of your sight, you slammed the door shut, and your facade crumbled.
Tears started to fall freely, in a combination of pain and frustration.
It's needless to say, you couldn't sleep that night.
-----------------------------------
Spencer looked distracted and visibly sad.
Morgan knew something had happened to him, even if the man had denied the fact for the past two days. And Morgan was sure it was something related to you. It looked like Spencer would combust from guilt whenever his eyes landed on you. Morgan's suspicion turned to be right the moment you caught Spencer's gaze, and you purposely averted it.
"Okay, pretty boy, what did you do?" Morgan questioned Spencer when he caught him pouring coffee in the kitchenette.
"What? Me? Nothing!" Spencer defended himself, but the crack in his voice did nothing to help his cause.
"So she's not talking to you just because?"
Spencer shrugged, leaving the pot over the counter.
Was he being so obvious? If Spencer wanted to maintain the facade that 'nothing is wrong here,' he was failing miserably.
Morgan scoffed, grabbing a mug to pour some coffee for himself.
"Come on, Reid. There must be something. Since yesterday morning, you look like a kicked puppy, and she seems visibly upset, and you're both always attached to the hip."
Dangerous territory, Spencer thought. But at this point, his regret was more powerful than keeping your relationship private.
"She is mad at me," the man recognized. It was a 'vague' recognition, but it was something.
Morgan seemed not surprised, though.
"No shit, Sherlock. The question is why, pretty boy," Derek prodded.
Spencer sighed deeply. How could he express what really happened without telling the whole truth?
Morgan saw the struggle in Spencer's eyes.
"I know you are both hurting by whatever happened. Maybe talking would help you clear your head and think about how to fix it."
Spencer took in Morgan's words. Some advice could help, he decided.
"We fought. I mean, we argued two nights ago, and she kicked me out. And now she is not talking to me, and I don't- I want to apologize, but I don't know how."
Spencer winced, just remembering your fight.
Derek looked at him incredulously.
"She kicked you out? What in the world did you do so she reacted like that?"
The actual question was 'what he said' because, strictly speaking, he didn't do anything besides let his mouth run on its own accord.
He regretted every word he said to you the second they left his mouth, but the damage was done, and you were fed up enough to listen to his apologies, so you yelled at him to let you alone. He didn't blame you. But he was feeling miserable, and it showed.
Spencer told Morgan exactly what happened—word by word.
"Jesus, Reid. I didn't peg you like the jealous type," Morgan acknowledged. Spencer shook his head.
"It's not like that. I mean, I know she loves me..."
"But?"
Spencer sighed. "What if - what if she realizes there are better men than me? That I am not enough for a romantic relationship?"
Morgan's eyebrows knit together. Spencer's face was pure panic, only thinking about the possibility.
"And Dodds would be better than you? You know he's like a kid, right?" Morgan pointed.
"Yeah. A young man with a lot of confidence that makes her smile and has her undivided attention. He's smart and qualified for this job like any of us. I'm not better than him. And I can perfectly be disposable in comparison."
That was the thing. Spencer felt insecure about you finding someone better than him.
Morgan looked at him empathetically.
"Man, I think you are looking too much into it. I don't think you should feel threatened in your relationship with her. And I guess she thinks the same and feels hurt for you thinking that."
Spencer nodded. "That's why I know I fucked up. I hurt her for my insecurities. It's all my fault," he lamented.
"You need to talk to her," Morgan advised, and Spencer whined.
"How? She hasn't spared me a glance in two days!"
"You're a genius, Spencer. And above all, how long have you known her? Five years? Think of something."
"Five years, eleven months, three weeks, and four days," Spencer corrected without hesitation.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You'll figure it out."
Spencer sighed deeply as Morgan patted his shoulder before leaving the kitchenette. Derek was right; they should talk. Spencer just had to figure out how to make that happen.
-----------------------------------
That night you were sulking at your apartment, laying on the couch and watching some crap on the TV, when three knocks alerted you.
You weren't expecting anyone, and you didn't think Spencer could be outside your door. You were clear in telling him you didn't want to talk to him when he cornered you in the breaking room this afternoon.
But if you knew something about Spencer Reid, it was that he could be stubborn as fuck. So when you looked by the peephole and saw him standing there, you only closed your eyes and sighed.
Spencer knocked again. "I know you are there. And I know you don't want to talk to me. But please, let me do the talk. Please, at least listen to the things I need to say."
"You already said enough," you spat from your spot on the other side of the door. Spencer gulped hard. He said enough hurtful things to you to kick his ass, but he was determined to gain your forgiveness somehow.
"I can't stress enough how sorry I am for that. But I need you to know that I didn't mean any of it." Spencer paused, and when he didn't hear you say anything, he continued. "I'm an asshole, and I would understand if you want to break up and never see me again. I mean, well - it - it would be kind of difficult not to see each other because we work together, but you know what I mean. Or maybe not, I don't know. Jesus, what the fuck am I saying?" Spencer chastised himself, trying to control his nerves.
You could hear him struggling, so you decided to spare him a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. You opened your door and saw him still trying to sputter what he wanted to say.
"If this is your way to apologize, you are doing a terrible job." Your voice was not angry but tired. Because if he had had two tortuous days of you not talking to him, you haven't done it any better, overthinking about your fight over and over again.
Spencer's glassy, pleading eyes found yours.
"I know. It seems it's another thing I suck at," he admitted fidgeting with his hands. "Would you, uh. Would you let me try again? Apologize. That is."
It's true you were still mad with him, but you really wanted to understand why he reacted the way he did that night and said all the things he said. You know him too well to ignore that something else beyond mere jealousy clearly triggered his outburst.
Without saying a word, you gestured for him to get into the apartment. Spencer was quick to comply before you changed your mind.
You both took seats on opposite sides of the couch, eyes overly interested in your living room rug. After some minutes of silence and knowing he needed to say something, Spencer cleared his throat.
"I guess I'm going to start with the beginning," he prefaced, keeping his hands in his lap as you turned to contemplate him in silence. "Uh - you know it took me time to come clean with my feelings for you. A lot of time, almost six years," he chuckled nervously. You nodded, not wanting to interrupt him, fearing to get him more anxious.
"The thing is- I have been in love with you for so long and creating scenarios of us in my mind that - that now I know it is real, I don't - It's still difficult to grasp the idea we are together, you know?"
As Spencer raked his hair, collecting his thoughts, you couldn't help but remember all the things you both went through until you decided to tell the truth to each other. Six years is a long time. But you wanted to believe it has been worth it.
"I'm not used to a life where I get to be happy; when I think I am, things crush down, and I lose everything. It's a rule: good things don't last in my life."
You know how difficult it has been for Spencer to accept that he is not cursed or anything like that—a very difficult task, knowing the things he has been through.
"So my mind began to be haunted by the idea that it was a matter of time before you realized you could do better than me, and I'm only worth it as a friend."
His words made you recall the times you both discussed your love life in the past and all the doubts weighing on Spencer's shoulders. After those conversations, you always swore to make him feel loved and appreciated.
"And then you came back to work, and Dodds was there. I created this whole scenario, telling myself that you would be better with someone like him."
Spencer paused to gauge your reaction. You were openly listening to him, taking in every word.
"I know it's unfair to you. I - I betrayed your trust by mulling those ideas and saying all those hurtful things I truly don't believe. I'm so sorry; I don't have a defense other than my incompetence in dealing with my insecurities," Spencer concluded, letting a deep sigh escape from his lips and averting your gaze. He looked embarrassed and vulnerable, and it hurts you to acknowledge how small he feels about himself. You reached your hand tentatively, touching his forearm, and Spencer's eyes drifted back to you.
"Spencer, you have to know there is no one in this world who I love so deeply as I love you. No man could compare to you. No matter how young or confident or whatever difference you can name. You are the most thorough, caring, and selfless person I know, and I love you so fucking much it hurts," you gave his arm a gentle squeeze to emphasize your point. Spencer's cheeks flushed a bit. He still needs to get used to your compliments.
"What I still don't get is why you didn't tell me. Don't you trust me enough to talk to me about how you feel?"
Spencer hastened to reply, taking your hand in his. "No! It's not that! I do trust you with my life!"
"Then why didn't you tell me the truth at the beginning?"
"I - I don't know. I thought you would see me as the shitty boyfriend who can't see his partner near another man. It's as if I wanted to control you. And that's far from what I want," Spencer explained, scooting by your side as his grip on your hand tightened. "It was my problem, not yours. You did nothing to make this happen. I'm the one who must have to fix it." You shook your head.
"Baby, no. If it is something that upsets you, it is my problem, too. Spencer, we need to talk about those things and resolve them together."
Spencer's head hung low, taking in your words.
"But why? I am the insecure one, and you have done nothing more than show me how unfounded my fear is."
"Well, because you're still my best friend, and I care about you." Spencer's gaze met yours again. "It's the thing I first loved about us, you know? I love feeling safe with you and having the trust to talk about what is happening to us." With loving eyes, you brought his hand to your lips to kiss it.
"I want you to keep being my best friend, too," Spencer said with a hopeful smile. It was all you needed to hear.
"Then please don't forget that. You can always talk to me, and I promise to do the same, okay?" Spencer nodded at your words, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Okay. I promise," Spencer replied before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You melted in his arms, feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent, something you have been missing in the past two days.
"I love you," you mumbled into his chest. "So so much."
"I love you too. And I'm so sorry for my behavior two days ago," Spencer muttered in your hair.
You chuckled, slightly parting to look at him.
"Yeah, we have to work on taming that green monster, doctor. Otherwise, Hotch won't be able to bring anyone new to the team," you pointed, leaning to kiss his lips. Spencer smiled into the kiss.
"That means you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. You narrowed your eyes.
"Yes. But you still have to make it up to me," you teased, faking seriousness.
Spencer nodded eagerly nonetheless. "Whatever it takes."
"You could start making something to eat. I'm starving here after two days with a hole in my stomach," you rubbed your belly for emphasis.
"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled, standing and strolling quickly to the kitchen. He felt so relieved after coming clean with you that he swore not to make the same mistake again. That green monster fed by his insecurities dissipating as he thought how lucky he was to love and have you in his life.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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Text
First Time (18+)
Bayverse!Donatello x reader
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A/N: Damn, I think this is my longest one ever. Big time Donnie love!💜
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Donatello is more than a little nervous about the thought of having sex with you, not trusting his own abilities, but with some reassurance and guidance from you, he rises to the occasion.
Warnings: A more angsty build up that I had planned, unprotected sex, Donnie having his first time with you💜
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To say that Donatello was an amazing boyfriend, wasn’t enough to do him justice. He was fantastic! The sweetest and most genuine guy you had ever met. He was attentive and treated you well. Sure, he might be a mutant turtle that lived in the sewer, yet he was the best boyfriend you had ever had. Whether that spoke of your former poor taste in guys, or just the general low bar for human men you did not know. But you knew for a fact that Donatello was one of the best things that had ever happened in your life.
Donatello would say the exact same thing about you. You were not just the best thing that had ever happened to him, but a dream come true. Before meeting you, he had never actually believed that he would get to experience something so good. Just as he had accepted his fate as a lonely mutant turtle that would spend his days alone in hiding with his brothers, you came along and changed his life for good.
The friendship the two of you shared was just what you needed. You may not fully understand everything Donnie had going on inside his lab, but you listened nonetheless, finally giving a much needed ear to his thoughts and inventions. He in turn provided you with a safe space to go to, whenever your life became a little too much.
During those years of friendship you and Donnie grew close in ways none of you had experienced before. Not even his brothers could read him as well as you did, and you in turn had never thought that anyone would understand you as well as Donnie did. So therefore it was only expected that stronger feelings would blossom.
When you and Donnie started dating, it felt natural. Just like your first kiss. It just came naturally to the two of you. No grad gestures and no confusion. Both you and Donnie knew what it meant, and you were just happy to be with someone that understood you so well.
But if there was one thing that didn’t come as naturally to you and Donnie, it was sex. Actually, it didn’t come naturally to Donnie. You didn’t blame him. The poor guy had lived most of his life, convincing himself that sex would never be something he would get to experience. So when you and Donnie started dating and kissing, and the first thought of sex came up, Donnie started overthinking. You were a human that had had sexual experiences with other humans before, and he was a mutant turtle who had his hand as the closest thing to a former sexual partner.
It didn’t mean that Donatello didn’t want sex, because oh boy, did he want to! He was just nervous. Really nervous. It was almost nerve racking to believe that he could actually have sex, let alone with someone as beautiful as you. And you understood. You really did. You took the time to sit with him and talk it through, making sure he felt heard and comfortable, especially talking about a subject like that. What did he feel? What did he fear? What was he excited about?
Other than the general confusion and trauma that came from accepting your fate of loneliness, you learned that Donatello feared not the action of sex itself, but how he would act. More specifically, he was nervous and overthinking, because he did not know what to do. Where should he put his hands? What was he supposed to say? And the thought that haunted him the most; if he didn’t do good, would you leave him? All very valid fears for a mutant turtle, who did not even dare to dream of being with a human.
You took Donnie’s hands in yours and told him it was okay. He was allowed to be nervous and overthink, and he was allowed to not know what to do. You told him that you loved him, and you wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t make you feel good the first time, nor the time after that. Humans too would be nervous before their first time, and it was very normal not to be satisfied the first time.
And after that conversation, you and Donnie slowly started preparing for your first time together. With Donnie being a totally different species than you, he started preparing you for what you could expect. He told you where his cloaca was located and how it worked, along with other parts of the turtle anatomy you may or may not have known already. You in turn did the same. You told him where humans liked to be touched and answered his questions about human anatomy. And it calmed Donnie down. It calmed him down enough, to the point he dared to ask if he could touch your breast.
The make out session that came from that, was one unlike any you ever had had with Donatello. With his hands groping your breast, you were at a shock of naturally good your sweet tech boyfriend was at this. You had expected him to be more unsure, but you soon learned that when he had the confidence he could do anything. Making you moan against his lips while he played with your nipples, this guy did not know what talent he possessed.
This unlocked a new area of your relationship, that you and Donatello carefully explored. Make out sessions became more common, with hands exploring and building up the courage, going a little further each time, until one night Donnie told you he wanted to try.
“Are you sure?”, you asked. You were sitting in his room, you in his lap with your arms around his neck, still breathing heavily after the heated kiss the two of you had just shared. One of his hands was in the back of your neck, playing with your hair, while the other rested on your ass, squishing you through your pants.
“I’m sure”, Donnie answered, watching you through hooded eyes. The hand on the back of your neck crept to the side of your face, letting Donnie’s thumb glide across the corner of your mouth. “I really want to try”.
You nodded your head, biting your lip with a smile, before letting Donnie close the space between you once more. Your lips dancing together as your tongues slowly found each other, letting a small moan escape you, as you felt the vibrating churr being in Donnie’s chest. You had heard that sound quite a few times now, and each time you loved it more and more.
Your hands moved from Donnie’s neck, and down to the top of his plastron, enjoying the feeling of his vibrating chest through your fingers. You moved your lips to his chin, making your to his neck, feeling the hand on your ass pull you closer. Donnie’s breathing was heavy, his chest moving as he felt you work your lips around his neck.
Donnie’s hands found your waist, dipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your smooth skin against his rough palms. You took this as a sign, removing your lips from Donnie’s neck to take off your shirt. This made Donnie move his hands to your breast, palming them through your bra as you reached back to unhook it. The breathy curse that left Donnie’s mouth once your bra was off, went straight to your core, making you clench around empty air. And Donnie could smell it. The scent of your arousal was strong, making him slightly dizzy.
Donnie nuzzled his head against your neck, pressing kisses against your skin like you had done to him, enjoying every sound that left your mouth and the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. His hands moved from your breast to your pants, where he tried to undo them, only to grow frustrated at the small buttons in his big fingers.
“Want me to take them off?”, you asked, gliding a hand up his neck.
“Please”, Donnie answered, bringing your hips close to him once more.
Donatello watched, with his head resting on your shoulder, through the valley between your breasts, as you undid your pants. Once you got them past your waits he helped you, sliding them off of your legs before throwing them somewhere in his room, leaving you in nothing but underwear on his lap.
“Shit”, he moaned, his heart raising once more as yet another wave of your arousal hit his nose, stronger than before. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of your underwear, his eyes finding yours to ask for permission. Breathless you nodded, lifting your hips to make it easy for him to pull your damp underwear down your legs.
The sight of you naked on Donnie’s lap was enough to make him moan. Your cheeks were already getting pink, and your pupils were just as blown out as his. The best way Donatello could describe the sight in front of him was; hot. So fucking hot.
He kneeled your hips, biting his lips before he asked; “Can I… Will you show me… Will you let me finger you?”
Once again, Donnie’s words went straight between your legs. The way he looked at you and the way he spoke. Needy and so ready to try. You loved every second of it.
“Of course you can”, you answered him, before bringing him in for another needy kiss. You took one of his hands in yours, guiding it down between your legs, helping one of his fingers glide through your folds, letting him feel the wetness that had built up. Donnie shivered, letting a whimper against your lips. You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling from his lips, finding his reaction adorable.
“You feel that?”, you asked him, letting his finger glide through once more. Donnie nodded, letting out a small shuttering yes. “That’s all because of you, Donnie”. Your boyfriend cursed once more, his face showing frustration and absolute bliss.
You moved his thumb to your clit, guiding him on how to circle his finger around your small bundle of nerves.
“Like this?”, Donnie asked, watching your facial expression as he worked his fingers on you.
“Yes”, you breathed out, arching your back enjoying the feeling of his thick thumb on you. “Just like that, Donnie”.
Donatello bite his lip, watching your face closely, while remembering the things you had told him about the human body. How humans liked to be touched. How you liked to be touched. And with that thought in mind he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you close and still, while his index finger glided through your folds once more, before finding your entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, sighing in delight at how tight you felt around his finger. You moaned, leaning your head back, happy that Donnie had wrapped his hand around to stabilize you.
“Fuck, Donnie”, you moaned, feeling how his finger went further in.
“Is it good?”, he asked, brows knotting together, biting his lips as he felt the familiar feeling from his cloaca, threatening to let dick drop.
“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, your legs shaking against his. “Please, move them Donnie. Like this”. You held up your hand, showing your boyfriend how to move his fingers inside you. Donnie nodded, doing just as you showed him, moving his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rolled against your clit. You moaned, dropping your head against Donnie’s shoulder. He moved his fingers faster, feeling you move and shake against him, every moan from your mouth sounding like sweet music in his ears. He continued like this, feeling you tighten around his finger, your climax inching closer and closer until you came around his fingers with a loud moan.
When Donnie removed his fingers from your used cunt, he could not resist the urge to bring them to his mouth, sucking them off in front of you. The look in your eyes and the way you smelled told him everything he needed to know. You enjoyed it. All of it. He brought your lips back to his, your tongues finding each other. You moaned at the slight taste of you in his mouth.
Donnie pulled from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, listening to your heavy breathing, feeling it against his face. “Can I do it?”
“Do what, Donnie?”, you asked, your hands smoothing over his shoulders and biceps.
“Can I fuck you?”
You nodded, too stunned to speak. Once again, you had not expected Donatello to be so straight forward, having thought he would be way more shy.
Donnie took your lips in for another kiss while he slowly laid you down on your back. Once your back was flat against the mattress, he started moving his clothed crotch against you, moaning against your lips as he felt himself getting closer to his drop. You whimpered against his lip, almost begging him to take his pants off. Finally he sat up and undid his pants in full view of you. He pulled his pants off along with his boxers, before climbing back on top of you, feeling your legs close around him the best they could, bringing his cloaca to meet your wet center.
“Can I drop into you?”, Donnie asked, his lips ligering against yours, his hands moving from your hips, up your sides to your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.
“Yes, Donnie”, you moaned, buckling your hips against his, causing him to moan, feeling himself tipping on the edge before finally dropping down in front of your entrance. To his surprise, you were the one to move your hand down between the two of you, taking his cock in your hand moving it to your opening before pushing it in closely.
Donatello moaned, his head falling down beside yours, your cunt hugging him tightly as he sunk further in. You kissed the side of his face, whispering sweet nothing as he sunk in as far as he could. He stayed there for a moment, letting you and himself adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You were a tight fit for him, but he couldn’t deny it felt good.
“Donnie, please move”, you moaned, moving your hips under him. Donnie wrapped an arm under your shoulder so he could bring you even closer to you, resting his forehead against yours once more as he slowly began to move, moaning and cursing in delight over the feeling.
His thrusts started out slow and soft, until you told him it was okay to go harder and faster, to which Donnie obliged. He cursed, one of his hands grabbing on to the bedding beside your head, enjoying this knew feeling around his cock.
“Fuck”, he breathed into your ear, causing tingles to erupt in your stomach. “It feels good, (Y/N). Fucking good”.
Your hand found his face, stroking his cheek making him look you in the eye. The sigh was enough to make both of you shiver.
“Wanna go faster?”, you asked him. Donnie nodded, his lips slightly agasp. “Go as fast as you want to. Fuck me as fast as you want, Donnie”.
And that was all your boyfriend needed. Every trace of nervousness Donnie had showed you during your first conversation about sex disappeared, leaving behind what you could only describe as a feast for the eyes. Donnie was concentrated, his brows frowning, his pupils wide as his muscles flexed before he let loose against you. You gasped and moaned loud, grabbing onto Donnie’s shoulders as he thrusted faster and harder into you. He was rougher than you had thought he would be, but you found it to be a pleasant surprise.
But then Donnie did something you never saw coming for his first time. He took one of your legs, hooking it over his arm before thrust into you even deeper than before. This new angle caused you to arch your back in ecstasy, as he continuously hit the sweet spot inside of you. It didn’t take long like this, before you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach as you clung closer around Donnie.
“Donnie!”, you moaned out, your pitch higher than he ever had heard it before, making him growl in delight. “Donnie, I’m close!”
Donnie did not answer you. Instead he dipped his head down to your neck, where he started nipping at your skin, his hips working against you like a piston. He wanted you to cum around him, washing away every fear he ever had about not making you feel good. And you knew. You knew your boyfriend, and you knew what he was thinking. And as he started groaning and biting your earlobe, you couldn’t hold back anymore, almost screaming his name as you came for him once more.
Donnie moved both hands down to your hips, holding you still as he started chasing his own high, helping you ride out your own in the meantime. As he moaned louder and louder as he got close, his thrust became more and more erratic. Finally he came, pushing himself all the way into you as he shot out his white ropes, letting out a moan better than porn star you ever heard.
Once down from his high, Donnie pulled out of you, before slumping down next to you, sweaty and out of breath, his dick still out in the open.
He looked at you, his eyes tired yet full of love, making you feel warm in so many ways. “Was it good?”
“Are you crazy?”, you asked, smiling brighter than any stare Donnie had seen. “It was amazing, Donnie!”
Donnie chuckled, wrapping an arm around you to pull you close against his plastron, giving you a kiss before resting his forehead against yours once more, a smirk spreading on his pretty lips. “Does that mean you’re up for another around after a quick nap?”
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milkyhoneybee · 11 months
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Unethical magic friend who uses you to solve their problems without asking you or considering your comfort
They ran out of milk for their morning coffee? They snap their fingers and suddenly your tits are massive and leaking milk. They take what they need and don't bother changing you back until they remember hours or days later, even if you try to remind them they just wave you off saying 'sure, sure, I just need to finish working out this summoning circle' and get distracted again
Sometimes they read something in a book that gets them horny or there's something they couldn't figure out, or they just pass someone in the market who takes their fancy, so guess who's helping them recreate it? You lose track of the amount of times you've been turned into the current object of their desires-- you don't even remember what your original hair colour was at this point, though you think you're mostly the same as you were when they change you back... but, enough subtle differences over time can build up...
Not to mention the times you've ended up with tentacles or horns or fangs or a foot long tongue, genitals of every configuration, or been transformed into slime and used just for their pleasure, or, more humiliatingly, been used in some test or experiment, or used to get spell ingredients
You would leave, you think, even if it didn't usually feel so good you lose control of yourself, but you didn't realise how binding a mage's "friendship bracelets" were when you first accepted it when you became friends, and now even if you do go anywhere, they can summon you back without trouble
They just conjure you some souvenir or some kind of 'treat' if you complain, and you feel your cheeks flush with the patronising nature of it. None of your complaints are ever taken seriously
Sometimes they'll summon a demon or other creature either for information or for some task, and you've ended up being used as payment or to placate them. You start drooling and going weak at the knees whenever you smell succubus milk or incubus cum from the amount of times you've been exposed to it already-- you're honestly worried it'll become an addiction before too long...
The one time you tried to sabotage one of your friends spells, hoping they'd get a taste of their own medicine, and while at first it was satisfying seeing their look of panic when the magic went awry, it didn't last long...
When you looked at their spell book and saw they were trying to create an armour spell as strong as dragon scales, you figured out just what your interference had caused, watching those glistening sapphire scales spread along their growing, shifting limbs, long claws growing in, a tail stretching out behind them, horns and wings starting to form
Unfortunately, your friend was still conscious enough to realise it was you that had caused the issue, and they had no qualms about 'punishing' you for it
Increasingly they grew larger and stronger than you, long maw full of sharp fangs and a wicked tongue grinning as they pinned you down under one paw. The tongue that shoved itself inside you was larger than some of the cocks you'd taken before, making you squeal and writhe, body shaking when the edge of claws sent little trickles of blood down your thighs and sides. They pressed you down harder into the floor, growling like a thunderstorm and started fucking their tongue into you. Suddenly, their haunches were over your face, their serpentine body much more flexible and longer than their human one, and your eyes widened at the sight of the cock hanging heavy and flushed, pushing past the split of scales between their legs
Even trying to keep your mouth closed didn't save you, your draconic friend simply smothering you with their cock until you were forced to take a breath, and after letting you get a little air, they took the opportunity to ram their cock straight down your throat. You can't fight back at all as they fill you from both ends, feeling like a toy being hollowed out
Their cock is covered in ridges and the slick confines of your throat drag against them in a way that, from what you can still manage to piece together due to the lack of consistent air, must feel good. They even get their tail wrapped around your throat, making your watering eyes roll up as they tighten their hold
You pass out, of course
Thankfully, they must have pulled out before the lack of air completely did you in (though you have no way to tell, perhaps they could still cast necromantic magic in dragon form?) but you come to in fits and starts, finally piecing enough of yourself together when you're being held in both of their front paws, your hole stretched and leaking around their cock as they bounce you up and down its length
From the way your belly sloshes, and how sticky your legs are (not to mention the rest of you, you assume), you can guess they've already cum in you a few times while you were out cold
When the draconic mage finally finishes with you, you're left slumped over, face half laying in a puddle of cum and you don't think you'll ever not smell like it or if you'll ever taste anything else again. You don't know if you can even talk any more from having your throat so thoroughly fucked. Not to mention if your holes will recover after being stretched out and absolutely ruined on that massive dragon cock...
Of course, leaving them a dragon doesn't seem like a good idea for anyone. Once you get enough energy and brain cells to rub together, and manage to clean up a bit, you get herded over to their spell book. They eventually nudge you and manage to gesture, growl, and, at times, roughly manipulate you, until you can brew a potion to change them back
Once they're back on two legs? 'Well, that was fun, wasn't it?'
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celiastjamesoscar · 1 year
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Exile
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Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.
Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers
Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!
My Masterlist
Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)
The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.
Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.
You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”
You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.
The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.
As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.
Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.
“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.
As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.
As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.
“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.
“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.
“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.
When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.
“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.
Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.
Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to Y/N’s piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, Y/N’s favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.
You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.
I want to bop with you, baby, all night long
I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn
I want to bop with you, baby, all night long
“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to Y/N, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.
Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.
“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.
Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.
The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.
You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.
So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.
When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.
The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but Y/N could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”
“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.
At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: Y/N.
At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.
You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.
“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.
Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”
You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”
You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.
Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.
“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”
Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.
It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.
She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.
“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.
“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.
“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.
The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her eyes, trying her best to fight back tears.
Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.
The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.
The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.
You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”
“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by Y/N.
“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.
Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”
You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.
When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.
School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.
Their rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.
Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.
Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.
“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.
Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.
“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”
“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.
“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.
The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.
The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.
“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.
“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.
Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.
Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.
“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.
All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.
You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.
“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.
“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.
Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between their fingertips as if their souls were communicating through the simple touch. They both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding their minds as they looked at each other for the first time in seven years.
“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.
Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”
Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.
“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.
Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.
“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.
“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.
As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.
When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”
Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.
“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.
“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”
At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.
“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.
“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!”Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.
“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.
“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.
You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.
You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.
“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.
After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”
Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.
“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’
When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.
“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing Y/N.
Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”
The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.
“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you cause her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.
Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.
“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.
Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”
“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.
“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.
Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.
“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.
Their moves were swift and calculated, their attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.
Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.
As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and their footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.
Neither competitor gave an inch, their faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.
With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.
Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.
“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.
“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”
“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”
Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.
Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.
“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.
“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.
“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.
At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.
“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.
You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.
After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”
You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”
Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.
Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.
You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.
“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”
A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”
“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.
Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.
“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.
“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”
Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”
At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.
“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.
“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’
Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.
“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.
“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.
When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’
“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.
You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.
Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.
“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.
Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.
The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.
“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.
“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.
When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”
“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.
“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.
“Thank you, Addams.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.
Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.
“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.
Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.
After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.
On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.
“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.
“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.
As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.
As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.
With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.
You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.
The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.
When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.
“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.
“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.
Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”
You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.
“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.
“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.
Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.
It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.
It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.
Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.
The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.
As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”
The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.
A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.
Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.
The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.
“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”
The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.
As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.
Put on your Bobbi-sox baby
Pull up your old blue jeans
There’s a band playin’ down at the armory
Know’s what rock and roll really means
You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.
“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.
I want to bop with you baby, all night long
I want to bop the night away
I want to make it a night like it used to be
“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.
“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.
“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.
She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”
You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.
So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.
You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.
She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.
But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.
“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.
You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.
Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”
The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.
“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.
“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.
“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.
“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”
Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.
You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.
Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.
The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.
She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”
Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.
Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”
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AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶
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goldfades · 5 months
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"
─ word count | 1.3k
─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.
It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."
The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.
KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.
But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.
Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.
But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.
──
"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.
You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"
Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.
"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.
You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."
Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"
"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.
But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.
"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."
"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.
You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.
Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.
"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"
She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."
You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."
She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."
You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.
"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."
You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.
"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."
"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."
You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.
"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"
Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."
Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.
"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.
Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."
"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.
Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."
The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.
Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
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teapartyprincess4two · 7 months
Text
Unplanned- C. Sturniolo
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pairing: TeenMom!reader x TeenDad!Chris
classification: fluff, high school sweethearts
warnings: teen pregnancy, suggestive content but no smut, unplanned pregnancy, unexpected child, mentions of unprotected sex but no smut, mention of throwing up & nausea, some cursing, use of y/n, long
summary: Becoming a teen mom was never in your plans, but you and Chris had to learn to make the best of it.
Yours and Chris’s love story was long and intricate, full of details and secrets only you two would understand. It started from an early age and only progressed as you two grew older.
You met Chris when you were just kids. The two of you were attached at the hip, always wanting to do everything together. You’d ride your bikes around the neighborhood and stay up all night playing video games. If you weren’t there, Chris wasn’t interested. If Chris didn’t do it, neither did you. You were best friends from the very beginning.
When you entered middle school, the two of you became even more inseparable. You went through an awkward stage of your lives together that included acne, growth spurts, and puberty. Middle school is a brutal time for any child, but you and Chris got through it together. Bullies and mean girls lurked in every classroom, but as long as you had Chris it was okay. You were ready to defend him if necessary and he was ready to do the same.
Eventually you entered high school and the two of you matured into young adults. Around this time all your friends began dating, but you were too attached to Chris for any boys to ask you out. Towards the end of your freshman year you realized that what you felt for Chris went beyond friendship. Those feelings only grew stronger as the school year progressed, but you were too young to understand them, so you suppressed them as much as possible.
Some time during the summer between freshman and sophomore year, Chris realized he felt the same about you. Chris confided in his brothers about his newfound crush for you and whenever you’d come around they’d tease him relentlessly about it. It never became awkward between you, though, instead you grew the courage to confess your feelings to Chris. And, to your surprise, he admitted he felt the same.
The two of you spent that summer exploring this new relationship and became even more bonded than you already were. You entered sophomore year as a couple and dated all throughout high school, falling more in love with each passing day. You shared so many firsts with Chris; your first date, your first kiss, and your first time. Everything was special because you were sharing it with Chris, he was your soulmate. Your relationship was beautiful, it was perfect.
Senior year rolled around quicker than expected, and before you knew it, it was prom night. Chris organized an elaborate promposal for you in the middle of the school’s court yard, complete with a banner, a bouquet of roses, and confetti. Everything about that moment was perfect, earning adoring looks from every other student who watched you grow as a couple over the years.
Prom night was a solidifying moment in your relationship with Chris because as it was the first time you had sex without a condom. It felt like the perfect night to completely give yourself to one another, and if you were careful, there wouldn’t be any consequences. After this night, the two of you grew stronger in your relationship. Nothing was able to break you apart even though so many people tried. If it wasn’t a mean girl it was a jock who tried catching one of your attention, but it never worked. You and Chris were locked in, you were fully committed and in it for the long haul.
After prom the only high school milestone left to complete was graduation. Although your younger years were flying by in a whirl, you were excited to enter a new chapter with Chris. The two of you had so many dreams and plans for your future together. You spent countless nights discussing it all, but you were both so naive then. Chris would gush about the luxuries he’d provide for you as adults including a house with a pool, too many cars, and anything else you wanted.
You two were about to learn the harsh reality of life the hard way.
It’s graduation day and you’re buzzing with excitement and nerves, this really was the end of an era for you. “You ready?” Chris asks, a huge smile plastered on his face. He couldn’t wait to graduate and start a new chapter with you that didn’t include homework and tardy bells. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply as you adjust your cap and gown. You felt extremely nauseous, but you chalked it up to nerves. You were about to cross the stage and officially enter adulthood, who wouldn’t be nervous?
Chris gives you a quick peck before grabbing your hand and leading you into the school auditorium. You take a deep breath in attempt to calm your nerves, it’s just graduation you’ll be fine. As the ceremony progresses you can’t help but feel even worse, but you try your best to ignore it so you can cross the stage and get this over with.
When you finally cross the stage you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from throwing up, you don’t even make it back to your seat, instead running off to the bathroom with your diploma. Chris watches from his seat in confusion and worry, where were you going? He silently excuses himself and follows behind you, trying to keep up with you as you run down the halls. You barge into the bathroom, rushing into the first available stall and hunching over the toilet, immediately spewing out this mornings breakfast.
When there’s nothing else for you to throw up, you slump down onto the dirty bathroom floor and rest again the cold tile walls of the stall. You feel exhausted, a looming headache growing from the pressure caused by vomiting. Either something was seriously wrong or you ate something yesterday that didn’t sit well with you, but you knew this was NOT just nerves. You’ve never been this nervous before, it was just graduation it’s not like you had to present an award or recite a speech.
“Y/n?” Chris asks cautiously from outside the restroom, he opens the door slightly to see if you’re even in there. “In here,” you respond quietly, pushing yourself off the floor and to the sink. He walks in timidly, not sure if there was anyone else in here with you, but when he realizes it’s just you he immediately asks what’s wrong.
“I’m fine, just a little anxious,” you lie.
Chris squints his eyes at you as he watches you wash your hands feverishly and rinse out your mouth. He knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to press it. “Well the ceremony is over. We were going to go eat, but I can ask Matt to take us home?” he’s rubbing your back lovingly, he knows something’s wrong but you don’t want to tell him. You smile at him through the mirror, drying your hands quickly so you can get out of this restroom as soon as possible.
“Yes please,” you reply quietly, grabbing your diploma and adjusting your cap. You do a once over in the mirror, trying to ensure that there’s nothing gross left over on your gown.
Once you’re sure you’re fine, you and Chris walk back out into the auditorium to find Matt and Nick.
Summer is the best time of all, especially now that your fun won’t be cut short once August rolls around and school starts up again. This felt like an endless summer and you were ready to spend every second of it with your boyfriend.
It was the second week of June and you were out swimming with Chris, his brothers, and a couple of your friends. Well they were swimming, you were sitting in a lawn chair by the pool, too tired to swim.
You’ve been feeling tired and sick ever since graduation, but you didn’t tell anyone because deep down you know it’s something serious. You’ve noticed how tired you look, your small but sudden weight gain, and your consistent morning sickness. All the symptoms pointed to one thing: pregnancy. But you suppressed the thought out of your head and tried your best to enjoy the summer.
“Babe, come in!” Chris calls out to you as he flails his arms around in the water, splashing some of it on you in the process. “I will in a bit. I’m trying to tan,” you reply, hoping he’ll believe your lie and go back to your friends. He can see right through you, though, so of course he doesn’t believe you. Chris hoists himself up from the water by the edge of the pool, jogging towards you as water drips off of him.
“What’s wrong? You love swimming,” he comments as soon as he’s close enough to you, taking a seat at the foot of the lawn chair. A sudden whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen from Chris hits you, causing you to instantly become nauseous, but you hold it back as you reply, “I’m fine, babe. I’m just a little tired.” He hums in response, allowing his wet hands to wander on your bare skin.
His hands begin rubbing along your thighs, “You look so sexy, babe.” You chuckle a little at this, pushing his hands off you playfully before replying, “Don’t be weird. We’re in public.” A goofy smile adorns his face as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips, his hands traveling dangerously close to the strings of your bikini. “I’m not being weird, I just love my girlfriend,” his voice is sultry as he attempts to seduce you, kissing you again.
“Let’s go to the restroom.”
Another whiff of chlorine water and sunscreen hits you, and this time you can’t hold back the gag. You cover your mouth immediately, standing abruptly from the lawn chair and rushing to the restroom. Chris watches in confusion, wondering what the hell he did to warrant that response as he follows behind you. You’re once again hunched over a toilet in a dirty stall throwing up everything in your stomach.
“What the fuck? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” a million questions come from Chris as he crouches next to you and holds your hair out of your face. This is the second time you’ve suddenly gotten sick out of nowhere, except this time he’s going to make sure you tell him what’s wrong whether you like it or not.
At this point you’re tired, nauseous, embarrassed, and you have a headache; you can’t help but start crying. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Chris assures you, hugging you close and rubbing circles into your back. He was always good at consoling you, but today you were so distressed that the tears just kept flowing.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl? You can tell me.”
The thing is that you didn’t know what was wrong, you only had suspicions, and those suspicions were too scary to admit out loud. “I don’t know,” you reply through sobs, shaking your head at the idea of possibly being pregnant. Chris can tell that whatever this is, it’s serious, but he doesn’t know how to navigate this situation yet. All he can do is help you clean up.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispers lovingly as he presses a kiss to your forehead and guides you towards the sink.
When you’ve finally calmed down you tell Chris the truth of what you think is going on. He’s taken aback, there’s no way you’re pregnant, right? You two were always safe, always concious of the consequences that come from being unprotected.
“Are you sure? We’re always safe. We’ve never had a scare before,” he tries to reason, thinking of every time the two have had sex in the last month or two. He’s almost 100% sure you weren’t pregnant.
“Prom,” you whisper, looking down at the floor as you hold back your tears. If you were pregnant you wouldn’t know what to do. You and Chris were only 18, still really young to be having a baby. There were so many dreams and plans you had, both as individuals and as a couple, that you’d never be able to do with a baby. How were you going to navigate your relationship if you took a test and it came back positive? You weren’t ready to be a mom. What was Chris going to do? He was fresh out of high school, he was even less ready to be a dad.
The realization hits him as he remembers prom night. “Holy fuck,” he replies with wide eyes, the situation suddenly becoming too real. “Have you taken a test?” he’s holding you gently by your elbows, searching your eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, maybe reassurance that you two will be okay if this is real, but he’s trying not to panic. “Not yet,” your reply is a small glimpse of hope that maybe this is just a scare.
You and Chris dismiss yourself from your friends, dragging Nick and Matt along with you as you make your way to the nearest drug store. You had to find out immediately whether or not this suspicion was true.
Chris instructed Matt and Nick to wait in the car as you made your way into the drug store, they were confused out of their minds as to what was going on, but complied. You searched the aisles feverishly and purchased two pregnancy tests for safe measure.
Before you go into the restroom, Chris stops you and pulls you into a hug, “No matter what happens, it’s gonna be okay.” Even though you’re still scared, the comment warms your heart.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He kisses your forehead again before letting you go into the restroom. This moment was going to determine your future, and he wanted you to know that he was with you no matter what.
After what seemed like forever, you finally come back out of the restroom with both pregnancy tests in hand. “So?” Chris asks expectantly, chewing on his finger nails nervously. “I haven’t checked yet. I’m scared, Chris,” you reply, looking down at the pregnancy tests that are face down in your hands. “Let’s look together,” he takes one test from you.
You take a second to collect your thoughts before meeting Chris’s gaze, both of you flipping the test at the same time, but still not looking down. “I’m scared,” you say again, the nerves causing an unsettling feeling to loom over you. Chris is scared too, too scared to face the truth, so he lets you bite the bullet.
You break your gaze from his, looking down at the pregnancy test in your hand. Your stomach drops, a shocked gasp escaping your lips. This can’t be a good sign, so Chris immediately follows suit and looks at the pregnancy tests.
“Holy fuck,” he says. You were pregnant.
Matt and Nick are impatiently waiting in the car. They watch as you and Chris walk towards the car with unreadable expressions on your face, looking pale as ever. “What the fuck took so long?” Nick complains as soon as you two enter the vehicle. You sit there in silence, looking forward and dissociating completely.
“Y/n’s pregnant,” Chris says, still in shock.
Matt and Nick face you in their seats with their mouths agape, “Holy fuck.”
The next couple of months were hard. You and Chris had to suck it up and tell your parents, none of them were happy, but they can’t say they didn’t see it coming. You were forced to grow up as you and Chris began preparing to become parents, but you always made the best of it.
You swelled up very quickly, your protruding belly a constant reminder of the baby you and Chris were bringing into the world. Neither of you were ready for a baby, but you learned to come to terms with it over the span of your pregnancy. Chris was now actually very excited to become a dad, of course he was scared, but he was happy to be doing this with you. There was no one else he’d rather have as the mother of his children but you.
“This is perfect for the baby,” Nick comments as he holds up a cute floral onesie. You were currently shopping for simple baby necessities with Chris, Matt, and Nick. The gender of the baby was still unknown, but Nick was secretly hoping for a niece. “We’re just here for the necessities, Nick. Stuff like strollers, a hamper, maybe a cute diaper bag… Plus, we don’t even know the gender of the baby yet,” you reply with an eye roll as you waddle through the aisles.
“Okay? It’s still perfect for the baby,” he sasses as he throws the onesie into the shopping cart without another word. You ignore him, waddling into another section in search of the perfect stroller.
Chris and Matt, who had wandered off long ago, enter the same section. They were holding a plethora of baby clothes and all of them were decorated with dinosaurs, tractors, sports references, and anything else boy related. “Baby, look! For the baby!” Chris exclaims excitedly as he shows you all the cute clothes he and Matt just picked out. Chris had a hunch that you were having a boy and Matt was hoping for a nephew.
“This one says ‘Me + Mommy = One Broke Daddy,’ “ Matt laughs as he shows you a onesie he found with a stupid quote on it, he was a sucker for stupid quotes. ���Get that out of the cart, my niece will wear none of that!” Nick protests as he swats Chris and Matt away. “Niece?! My NEPHEW is gonna love these,” Matt replies, dumping all the clothes into the cart dramatically.
Meanwhile, Chris is checking up on you, rubbing your stomach and kissing all over your face. “How you feeling, mama?” He started calling you mama about a month ago and the nickname was definitely suiting now. “My feet hurt,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his waist. You were so grateful for him, he truly hasn’t left your side ever since you found out you were pregnant.
“Can you guys stop? She’s already pregnant,” Nick comments with a dramatic eye roll. “Agreed. What are y’all tryna do? Make twins?” Matt joins in on the teasing, loving how uncomfortable you become every time.
“Nah, triplets,” Chris replies jokingly with a chuckle, seemingly unbothered. Your face is red hot in embarrassment.
The ultrasound tech lathers your stomach in cold gel as she prepares you for your ultrasound. Today you were going to find out the gender of your baby. Chris insisted on accompanying you of course, he’s eager to find out whether he’s having a son or a daughter. You’re excited to find out, but all you truly want is for your baby to be healthy. Deep down you’re secretly hoping for a girl, though. The idea of dressing your baby up in cute clothes, adorning her hair with bows and painting the nursery pink was exciting.
“You guys ready?” the ultrasound tech asks, as she hovers the transducer of your stomach. Chris squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’re ready,” you reply, squeezing his hand back.
Chris can’t stop smiling throughout the entire appointment, he loves being able to see his baby on the screen. “There’s Baby’s heartbeat,” the tech says as the room is filled with the rhythmic beat of your baby’s heartbeat. You were happy to find out that your baby had a strong, steady heart beat and was completely healthy. You smile at the news and squeeze Chris’s hand again.
“Okay. Are you ready to find out if Baby is a boy or a girl?” the tech massages the transducer into your stomach as she verifies the babies gender. “Yes, please,” Chris replies eagerly, he can’t wait.
“Looks like you’re having a… boy.” She says it casually, but it’s enough to cause Chris to engulf you in a hug. He’s so happy, even if it was a girl he’d be happy, but this is honestly the best news ever. “I love you so much,” he says, his hands squishing your cheeks together her as he kisses you. “I love you too,” you reply with a chuckle, equally as excited as him.
“And I love you,” he whispers to your stomach as he talks to your son, planting a gentle kiss on it.
Once you hit the 9 month mark you couldn’t wait to give birth. Your feet always hurt, your back was worse, and you were so big you needed help to get up. You were tired of carrying around your son’s weight so you were actively trying to induce your labor. Some days you’d bounce on a bouncy ball. Other days you’d just pace around your room. All you knew was that this baby needed to get out of you immediately.
“You hungry, mama?” Chris asks, from beside you on the couch. The two of you were currently watching your favorite movie, it always made you cry, even before your pregnancy. You were always hungry nowadays, so that was a stupid question on his part. You send him a small glare which answers his question perfectly. He laughs slightly before asking what you’re in the mood for. Truthfully, you were in the mood for any and everything, that’s how hungry being pregnant made you.
Chris had compiled a mental list of every weird pregnancy craving you had throughout your pregnancy, so he decided to get the one that seemed to become your favorite; pineapple pizza. He ordered the pizza for you before returning to the movie on screen, listening to your sniffles. You always managed to cry at the exact same part of the movie, and ever since becoming pregnant your emotions only intensified.
The pizza arrived 30 minutes later, the savory aroma instantly causing your mouth to water. You would never eat this if you weren’t pregnant, but the cravings were so insatiable at this point that you’d eat it no matter how weird it looked or sounded. “This pizza is actually what made me pregnant,” you moan, taking a big bite of your first slice. Chris laughs, picking the pineapples off and doing the same. He loves you and your son so much that he’s willing to eat pineapple pizza.
After a while you become tired again and head to your room to sleep, but on your way there you feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen. You hold onto the wall for support as your breath quickens, you try and steady yourself. It’s just a small contraction, you’ve been having these all week, you’ll be fine. When you think you’re fine, you let go of the wall and begin walking to your room again, but are met with another, much stronger contraction.
This felt like the real thing, the baby was definitely coming. “Chris!” you call out, another contraction shooting through your body. You’re breathing heavily now, trying to focus on fully exhaling and inhaling. “Chris!” you exclaim louder this time, walking back into the living room slowly. He didn’t hear you the first time, but this time he’s jumping over the couch and running towards you urgently.
“Baby’s coming,” you breath out, yelping out in pain as you hold onto him for support. As if on cue, your water breaks. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” he says, looking down at the puddle of water on the floor. Chris guides you to the front door, leading you to the car. Once you’re in the car he runs back into the house for your hospital bag. He manages to grab your phones and the car keys on the way out, haphazardly locking the front door before rushing into the drivers seat.
Chris had no idea how to drive, but he was about to become a dad and there was no time to call Matt for a ride right now. “Chris, hurry!” You whimper, the pain becoming too much too fast. “I’m going baby, I’m going,” he reassures, holding your hand as he begins driving to the hospital.
On the way there he calls his brothers, his parents, and your parents to inform them that you’re in labor. Everyone is so excited and they begin asking too many question, but Chris hangs up on them after telling them which hospital you’d be at. He doesn’t have time for all that right now, he’s trying to juggle your pain, driving a car for the first time, and the anxiety he’s feeling about becoming a dad.
“Almost there, baby. You’re doing so good,” he says lovingly, rubbing your stomach as he keeps his eyes on the road. He’s speeding down the high way, somehow managing to expertly weave his way through traffic. The car is filled with your groans and heavy breathing, you could practically feel the baby crowning.
When you arrive to the hospital the staff immediately rushes you into the delivery room, preparing Chris quickly so he can join you. This was such a crazy, chaotic, beautiful moment for you two. Chris is scared, excited, nervous, anxious, everything.
The doctors are instructing you to push, the sweat gathering on your forehead as you use all your strength to push this baby out. Your hand is squeezing onto Chris’s so hard he’s sure his fingers are broken, but it can’t be anything compared to what you’re feeling. He’s coaching you through the entire thing, encouraging and reassuring you that you’re doing good. Although you want to tell him to shut up, you wouldn’t be able to do any of this on your own, so you focus your attention on your breathing and pushing your baby out.
“One last push.”
You use all the energy left in your body to push one last time, your baby finally being born. Your son’s wails fill the room, causing a wave of relief to wash over you. “You did so good, mama,” Chris whispers, kissing your forehead lovingly. He’s never been more in love with you than in this moment.
The doctor smiles as she places the baby in your arms. A motherly instincts immediately overtakes you and all you want to do is protect your son for the remainder of your life. Nothing matters but him, Chris, and the little family you just became. The baby is calm now, your heartbeat soothing him as soon as he’s in your arms.
“He’s so beautiful,” you whisper, as you and Chris admire him in awe. He was perfect. “He looks like you,” you comment again, taking in every detail of your child. Chris wants to frame this moment of his new little family forever. Despite just having given birth, you look beautiful.
“I love you,” Chris says, kissing you for the first time as actual parents. “I love you,” you reply, looking back down at your son. This was an unplanned, beautiful moment that you wouldn’t trade for the world.
MASTERLIST
A/n: working on some requests 😋 enjoy honey bunches
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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regularcitrus · 1 year
Text
Part 4: Friendship is Unbreakable 💎💥 (1/2)
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- Mori-oat, Japone
- this part takes place a little bit before Twilight became ruler, when other creatures were starting to integrate more in Equestria (i know it doesn’t rlly make sense timeline-wise but just pretend it does. chalk it up to horse years or something lmao)
- instead of giving stands, the arrow is wayyy more unpredictable and tends to amplify any magic that all races/creatures have. eg making someone physically stronger, giving cutie marks that can change, amplifying special talents etc
- because of this Stardust and Chariot have even more incentive to collect and study the arrows, bc who knows what it could do in the wrong hooves
- for example it gave Akira the ability to conduct electricity through his body (and also play guitar better) and it made Clandestine’s magic way stronger
- credit where credit is due, i believe i got the inspiration for Bucks name from @/catboymoments
1 / 2
Phantom Blood / Battle Tendency / Stardust Crusaders / Diamond is Unbreakable / Golden Wind / Stone Ocean
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lizzieisright · 6 months
Note
I’m so not normal about how you write alpha!abby I need more😩
Palestine: what can you do
Thank you for your req, I've missed writing alpha!abby it was so fun!(although this one is sappy)
Fri(end)s
alpha!abby x omega!reader
Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, hurt/comfort, "alphas and omegas can be friends!!" delusion, they really stretch the definition of friendship. No full smut but they get horny.
Inspired by "Friends" by V.
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People say there's no such thing as a friendship between an alpha and an omega. You disagree. 
People just need to embrace the inherent lust that comes with being friends with your opposite and you can be great friends. Instead of fearing to make everything awkward when you both smell your attraction, you should acknowledge it and laugh about it. Be each other's ego boosters. It's not that hard. 
For example, you and Abby - you've been friends for years. It did start with Abby hitting on you, but she backed off immediately when you explained that you're not interested. Anyway, Abby stayed and asked to be your friend, and you agreed - Abby was cool and smart. It later became a running joke between the two of you where Abby'd jokingly hit on you just to get on your nerves or make you smile. 
That's pretty much how you overcame the awkward barrier: you started being honest with each other about everything. You formed a bond so intimate between the two of you that people often mistook you for a couple. You didn't mind. It wouldn't happen anyway, since Abby was a player. 
You had no idea how many omegas Abby's fucked in her lifetime, but you rarely saw the same omega twice. Abby kinda had a reputation around campus. She was aware of it, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault her dick was good. And listen, Abby wasn’t an asshole, no one could catch her disrespecting omegas or talking who and how and when she fucked. People just knew. Well, it was hard not to know when her partners reeked of her after, but the point stood - Abby was a lady, not a prick when it came to privacy.
She fucked omegas that no one would believe to even have such dirty thoughts/time to fuck around/ability to feel sexual attraction or whatever reason insecure incel alphas kept telling themselves - and Abby always stayed discrete if omegas asked her too. Because that was how you got pussy, you fucking morons, not by insulting and being entitled. 
So Abby didn’t care that she had a reputation - she only cared if her partners felt safe and enjoyed themselves, and as long as it stayed this way, Abby was happy. 
And you knew all of this, because you were her best friend. She told you all of it during one night when you were drinking wine and you asked her about how she felt about her reputation. 
Then Abby asked about your deal, and you honestly told her that you didn't know: you loved the touch and flirting but you felt like you didn't have space for relationships. That you haven't met anyone yet who'd make you want to make an effort - of course Abby joked about her being the one and you laughed. 
“Well, if I ever need help, I'll come to you.” You winked and Abby laughed as well. 
It was easy between the two of you to what some would say, an alarming point where the boundaries of friendship became blurry. 
It wasn't a rare occurrence when you'd be at a party, pleasantly drunk, and then after what felt like an hour of dancing, you'd find Abby, sitting somewhere and sipping her whiskey, looking unapologetically hot in her muscle tee and jeans, and you'd get onto her lap, hugging her neck while she'd support your weight by grabbing your thigh. Her scent would get stronger and you'd smile into her shoulder, teasing her. Sometimes, of course, you'd find Abby with another omega already, her hands exploring and grabbing her partner, and you'd grin and go do something else. You always expect yourself to be upset, but strangely, you never are - Abby is your friend and you're happy she is getting some. 
Tonight is a little different. You're sleepy and horny and overall, want to feel someone's warmth and touch. So you find Abby and straddle her. She doesn't even lift a brow, just holds you by your waist and keeps you safe. Abby smells your arousal and chuckles, but you stick your tongue out.
“I fucking hate being an omega.” You say and start playing with Abby's hair while she is caressing your back. It's soft and cosy despite you being all horny. It's not flirty, it's not subtle: you two just love being close, and Abby radiates her presence, making everyone look away in fear of challenging her. Abby locks her arms behind your back and you arch into her.
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. Wanna fuck so bad.”
Abby laughs and looks at you with her red eyes: she can't control it when she is drunk and has you on her lap. Abby smells your scent and smirks, her canines growing longer, her presence getting stronger, scaring other alphas away.
“Well, you know I'm always available for you.” You smack her on her shoulder and Abby laughs. 
“Don't fucking tease me, bitch.” 
“We can make out if it'd make you feel better.” Abby shrugs. You think for a second.
“Yeah. Let's make out. I bet you're a good kisser.”
“Five stars reviews, baby.”
You laugh, but Abby is already cupping your cheek and guiding you down to her level so she can kiss you. You go pliant when her warm lips touch yours: Abby is a good kisser. She is slow and gentle, but you feel the power and control behind her movements. She is holding you with one arm on your waist while she is grabbing your neck with the other one, her thumb stroking your jaw. 
It doesn't feel like you two are toeing on some kind of line you're not allowed to cross: it feels natural and normal, like you've done it a million times before. Maybe you feel this way because Abby is confident and knows what she is doing, but she also doesn't push you further. You're just lazily making out, her warm tongue is on top of yours, exploring your mouth. It feels good.
You feel Abby getting harder under you and you grind against her crotch just to be a little shit, and she stops kissing you. 
“And I'm a tease?”
“I love seeing you suffer.” You grin and Abby kisses you again, holding your hips down so you won't be able to grind anymore.
It's affirming, it's an ego boost: you love seeing Abby, hot and amazing alpha, being so weak around you. Abby loves knowing she is the only one who you allow to touch you - loves smelling how horny she can get you. So you keep making out and talking for the rest of the night, existing in your own little bubble. It’s beautiful. 
After, Abby takes you home and you cuddle in her bed before you fall asleep, Abby's strong arm pulling you close, her hair making a cloud of her scent around you, keeping you safe and protected. 
In the morning you wake up with her hard cock pressing into your thigh and you sigh - you want to sleep more, not being humped by a sleeping alpha. Abby shifts and grinds against you in her sleep, and your cunt throbs: you've never been so close to an alpha who is aroused. New experience, but this is Abby, and you want to fucking sleep.
You just shake her shoulder and she grunts, unhappy. 
“Come on, Anderson, you have a morning wood.” You tell her, still sleepy. Abby shifts and turns on her back, taking you with her so your head is on her chest and if you could've been bothered and opened your eyes, you'd have seen the outline of her cock under the covers. 
But you go back to sleep. 
So this is how your friendship is: you're so close there's almost no boundaries between you. You're not afraid to smell horny around Abby and you feel good about yourself when you smell her being horny about you. You're never upset about her hookups and she doesn't growl at every alpha who looks your way. It's perfect.
The smell of love comes early into your friendship, and you both tease each other about it, “can't believe you love me it's so embarrassing”. Abby is your closest friend and you love her, and you two are proof of an alpha and an omega capable of being friends. 
You're comfortable with each other to the point where you complain about your cycles and how fucking horny and unsatisfied you both are during this time: usually it's you who complains because Abby fucks through her ruts. You always tease her about smelling like her lucky omega, but Abby just smirks, still rut high. She looks deliciously dangerous after her rut and the smell of attraction grows stronger between the two of you. Usually Abby’d invite you for a bottle of wine after her rut ends and your drunk makeouts would get more passionate too, since Abby wouldn't hesitate to grab and knead your ass, making you grind on her cock. This is the only time when you let awkwardness fill the room: Abby doesn't control herself and you have to stop her before it goes too far. 
(This is the only time when your heart flutters and your hopes rise. This is the only time that threatens to ruin your perfect friendship. 
You know if you sleep with Abby, you'll never be friends again. You'll get territorial about her, and Abby doesn't need it - it's a question of incompatibility between the two of you. 
So you stop her.) 
But the universe doesn't like anything that is perfect - it's against her nature. The balance is in imbalance, and it tries to restore itself. 
For the last few months your heats have been getting worse - you’re stressed, you can’t sleep and you feel like shit. Your mood swings start to get worse as well - if before you’d just get a little sad and then fall down into the horny fog of a heat, now your mood stays longer in the sad space. It’s tiring.
And this heat hits you very hard. You're not horny, you're in pain and sad and it's hard to maintain your mind. You wish you were just horny - you could just bury your nose in Abby's hoodie that she always lends you before your heat and you'd keep fucking yourself until the heat wave would pass. 
You do bury your nose in Abby's hoodie, but it makes you cry even more. You feel so alone and so useless, like no one truly needs you and you'll never find your happiness, like you're bound to die alone. It's terrifying and makes you sob, and you can't be bothered to be horny because what's the point of it if you will be alone all your life? 
Abby:
u ok?
You scramble to your phone and cry harder: Abby cares. Abby knows about your last struggles with your heats and she checks on you.  You're not alone. 
So you call her.
“Doll, I'm not doing phone sex-” Abby says jokingly, but then she hears you sob loudly. “What happened?” Abby's voice shakes. “Where are you? Fuck, talk to me-”
You take a big breath before Abby'd worry herself into an early grave. 
“I'm fine. I'm home.” You sniff. “I just- It's so bad, Abby.”
“Are you hurt?” Abby is still worried. 
“No. It's a mood swing.” You cry again, feeling so broken. “I feel so fucking alone. And you texted me and I- sorry, fuck.” You wipe your tears and hug her hoodie, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You feel ridiculous - you know it’s your hormones talking.
“Hey, I'm here.” Abby says, trying to soothe you, but you cry harder.
“What if I end up alone? What if I never meet my person? I spend all those fucking heats alone and it's so hard, and I can't think of doing it for the rest of my life all by myself.” You fall into another fit of sobs. Abby is silent for a moment.
“I'm coming over.” Abby says, dead serious, and you suddenly sober up. 
“I'm in heat, Abby, you can't come over!” You sit on your bed, worried.
“I don't fucking care! You're hurting and you're alone, I can't let this happen.” You hear Abby rustle around. “Can you do something for me while I'm on my way?”
“I can try.” You say without any hope.
“Go drink some water and take a shower. And send me some pics so I know you did it, okay?”
“I'm so not sending nudes, Abby.” You chuckle without any bite. Abby huffs. 
“Go drink your water.” Abby ends the call and you stare at your phone for a second. 
You try to keep yourself together - you send Abby pictures of an empty glass and a hem of a towel when you're done, but it takes five minutes before your mood swings again. You shake and try to breathe through another spiral into hell, but it's so fucking hard. You get to the point where you start rocking back and forth like an anxious child, trying to self-soothe. You feel like you're in some kind of trance until you hear your doorbell. 
You fly to the door before your dam would break: you open the door to Abby who's panting loudly - she probably ran up the stairs. 
It takes a second for both of you to comprehend the situation before Abby throws everything on the floor and scoops you in her arms, and you break, sobbing into her chest and clinging to her shoulders. Abby's scent soothes you, protectiveness radiating from her while she holds you tight and kisses your head. 
“I'm here.” She murmurs and you cling to her harder. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe.”
It takes five minutes of breathing Abby's scent for your hormones to calm down. You sniff before moving away, but Abby doesn't let you, still holding you. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” You say honestly and Abby lets you go. 
Her eyes are red and she tries not to breathe too much, and you feel ashamed - she got here to comfort you but you stink of heat. Of course Abby reacts to it, she can’t help it, and now she will be stuck between taking care of you and taking care of you. It’s unfair to her. 
“I will take scent blockers.” You turn to go to the kitchen, but Abby stops you, gently holding your bicep. 
“No. It's not the heat. It's the hurt.” You wince: you know it's hard for alphas to smell hurt on omegas. “And I have pretty good self-control.” 
You chuckle and let Abby take her shoes off. She is in joggers and her favourite hoodie, looking cosy and comfortable. You want to cuddle her, and this is exactly what Abby does. She makes you drink another glass of water, feeds you a banana and takes you to your bed. 
Abby stops when she sees her hoodie on your bed like she didn't expect you to actually use it. (Like she totally doesn't use your hoodie when she is too sad to find a rut buddy). But Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs you to the bed, enveloping you in her arms and her scent. It's warm and beautiful and you bury your nose in her skin. 
You don't talk. Abby caresses you and kisses you head from time to time while you get upset again. 
“I fucking hate being an omega.” You sniff. Abby presses you closer, her scent gets stronger, reacting to your distress. “There's something wrong with me, I swear.”
“You're perfect.” Abby murmurs and you blink your tears away. 
“It's so hard, Abby. It's unbearable. With every heat I get more worn out and upset.” You cry quietly. “I will go on suppressants, I don't want to suffer like this anymore.”
Abby swallows. Suppressants are no joke, they ruin people’s health - that’s why they’re taken in emergencies. For everything else there’s scent blockers that don’t disturb cycles and don’t put people in danger. 
“We will figure it out. We will get you back into normal horny heats and you’ll complain about it to me, I promise.” 
It soothes you and you fall asleep, your scent slowly changing to your usual love scent, the one that Abby loves the most. 
Abby knows that sometimes omegas go through their cycle with a lot more pain than normal, but seeing you, the fucking light of her life, suffer like this is torture. She’d honestly prefer to hold herself back from fucking you because you’re in heat, and not wipe your tears while you tell her how scared you’re of ending up alone. 
Abby watches your calm face and caresses your cheek. If you only knew.
“I’ll always be here.” Abby murmurs, knowing you won’t hear her. “I’m yours.” She kisses your forehead.
When Abby moves away she is met with your wide eyes. 
Her heart stops. You’re silent, lost for words, but something starts happening: your scent gets stronger and Abby can see golden sparks as your eyes start to change colour. 
“Fuck.” You sigh. Your chest gets tighter and your cunt starts pulsing with need. “Ab-”
Abby kisses you roughly, pressing your head into the pillow and she shoves her tongue into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist, and now you’re lost in her scent and touch, arching and whimpering into her mouth. It feels amazing, you’re soaking your pants while you cling to Abby and relax under her, submitting to your alpha.  You’ve never felt so good during your heat and you want more. You buck your hips into Abby and she grinds her cock on your pussy, making you shudder and moan. The kiss gets messier, there’s a lot of spit on your chins, but you don’t care - you want Abby closer, you want her in you, stretching you on her cock, knotting you. 
“Abby-” You moan into her mouth and Abby growls. “Fuck me, please.” 
Abby growls louder and licks your neck, her canines brushing against your skin and you whine, desperate. But then Abby stops kissing you neck, stops moving and her grip on you eases. 
“Fuck.” Abby sighs into your neck. She smells how worked up and desperate you are, and she has to fight herself to not fuck you right now. “You’ll regret it. I’m not going to hurt you like this.” Abby rasps and your heart breaks. 
You feel rejected and the smell of hurt fills Abby’s nose. She looks at you and her heart breaks from seeing you cry, knowing she did this. You can’t just reject an omega during their heat - it messes them up and then they won’t be able to keep you in their lives after, too hurt and ashamed. 
“I want to, doll.” Abby tries to console you. “I really fucking want to, but I need you to be sober before we do anything. Look at me.” You obey and Abby kisses your tears. “I promise you, if you agree to this when this wave subsides, I’ll do whatever you need me to. For now we can keep kissing.”
It makes you feel better and you nod, tugging Abby down to kiss her again. You still are very horny and Abby has to pin your hips so you won’t grind against her, but you want to cum and you keep squirming under her while Abby tries to slow down the pace of your kiss. She is so gentle and careful, and eventually you melt and relax, the heat wave going away. It takes a solid twenty minutes of kissing and Abby holding you down before your head gets clearer. You break the kiss and sigh, relieved you’ve finally got a break. Abby looks like she has everything under control and she totally didn’t have to fight you and herself so you wouldn’t make a mistake. Her scent though tells you how much she has to restrain herself - it’s thick and heavy, aggressive, domineering. Abby didn’t lie when she said she wants to fuck you as much you want her to fuck you, and it makes you hormone-crazy heart feel better.
 “You weren’t lying when you said you have amazing self-control.” You murmur and brush Abby’s hair out of her face. Abby chuckles. 
“Are you feeling better?”
“I’m not all sex crazy right now, if this is what you are asking.”  You keep caressing Abby’s hair. She blinks a few times, but the red doesn’t leave her eyes. “Thank you for handling this so well.”
Abby smiles and kisses your cheek. The question hangs in the air.
“I’m-” You take a deep breath full of Abby’s pheromones and it messes with your head, but you try to find the right words. You don’t want Abby to feel rejected too. “I’m not ready to spend my heat with a partner.” I won’t be able to let you go if we do this. 
Abby does smell of regret, but she smiles at you. 
“Of course. But call me if you get upset again. I don’t want you to be alone.”
You nod and walk Abby out, kissing her goodbye. You lock the door after her and sigh, knowing what is ahead. 
You spend three days fucking yourself to a memory of Abby saying I’m yours. 
Only after you’ve recovered and got back to yourself you’re hit with a realisation that Abby actually told you she is yours. You try to find a way to justify her words, to connect it with your friendship and how close you two are, but even your levels of almost no boundaries can’t create a good excuse.
You were not meant to hear her. She thought you were asleep. It was her secret. 
So Abby didn’t say it to make you feel better or trick you heat-brain into calming down - her scent and touch already did it. There was no reason for her to say it unless she fucking meant it. You don’t know what to do. You never thought Abby’d be interested in something like an actual relationship with you.
Your perfect friendship was built on two opposing facts: Abby is a player, and you’re fine being alone until you meet your person. And now you’re not fine being alone because deep down you know she is your person, and Abby said she is yours without wanting you to know. 
You feel like you’re going crazy. You’re terrified of any awkwardness that will inevitably come with this whole ordeal. You know you won’t be able to hide your uncomfortable, shaking discovery from Abby - she is your best friend after all, she will know something is up with you. 
You manage to act normal for a week without Abby getting suspicious - you two are still flirty, but now when Abby touches you, you feel like she sets you on fire with how your cheeks burn. Now there’s a hidden meaning behind her touch - the one you were not supposed to know.
The song on the radio makes you break. 
Abby is driving you two to the Korean restaurant she found and wanted to show you, and you two sit in comfortable silence - Abby is focused on the road and you stare out of the window, taking the view of this part of the city, when this song comes on the radio.
You're in my head / I had plans for the weekend / But wound up with you instead / Back here again  / Got me deep in my feelings / When I should be in your bed 
Your cheeks burn. It is a weekend and Abby spends time with you, taking you, her best friend, to the restaurant. Does she want to be in your bed?
You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-
You breath hitches. This song is stripping you of any kind of pretence. Your smell changes and Abby looks at you for a second.
Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just remembered something.” Abby hums and doesn’t ask you further.
Friends are not supposed to get too close / And feel emotions that / We're feeling now, now, now / We ain't slowing down, down, down / But once we cross the line / There's no denying you and / I can never turn around, 'round, 'round / Know we'll never be the same 
You take a shaking breath when you think back to your heat, begging Abby to fuck you. Yes, you will never be the same. But you have a choice to make.
“This song is about us.” You chuckle nervously. 
“Really? Sorry, I didn’t pay attention.” Abby laughs, but starts to pay attention now, while you wait for the traffic light to turn green.
You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-
Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends
Abby clears her throat. She doesn’t joke or flirt - she understands. 
“Yeah. It is about us.”
Abby doesn’t say anything more, but her scent gets a little spicy - she is nervous as well. You also don’t say anything - she is driving, after all. Not the time for this conversation. It’s the first time in your friendship when there’s so much thick, nervous tension between you. 
Abby parks the car and you just sit for a moment, feeling like you need to talk about it right now. Abby clears her throat again.
“So do you want to put the "end" in friends?” Abby asks quietly, not knowing why did you bring it up - do you want to stop being friends or do you want to be something more?
You chuckle, endeared by Abby’s nervousness - she is always confident and calm, you’ve never seen her like this. 
“You told me you’re mine.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers. You’re scared to cross this line and change everything, but you want to. “It made me happy. And very fucking confused, because- You know what I mean.” You cringe - you’re not going to include Abby’s sex life in your confession. “Were you serious about it?”
Abby lost any filter right after she heard “it made me happy”, so she just bursts, spilling all her feelings for you.
“I’m in love with you. I wanna marry you and have a fucking picket fence and a dog and two and a half children with you.” Abby says while her scent becomes ten times stronger with love. “You’re the one for me.”
You blink your happy tears away and look at Abby’s face, full of love and devotion. 
“Maybe we should start with a date?”
Abby smiles and takes your face into her hands, kissing you with so much love you can swim in it.
“A date sounds good.”
481 notes · View notes
sincerelyyuu · 5 months
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"in the end, it's still you." p1. • gojo satoru & geto suguru
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you thought having your two best friends satoru and suguru by your side was all that you needed to get through the rough times. but slowly you find satoru slipping through your fingers and suguru tries his hardest to help pick up the pieces of your wounded heart ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/tw: angst angst angst, sfw, fluff if you squint, s2 spoilers, teen!gojo and teen!geto during jujutsu tech days, both boys are hopelessly in love with bestfriend!reader, pet names, reader is also a sorcerer in the same year and is unaware of their romantic feelings ➼ wc: 2.8K words ➼ a/n: my first jjk fic! let me know how i did ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three
The life of a sorcerer isn’t for the faint hearted. You found yourself spending your days constantly training, pushing your physical body to its limit. The way your skin crawled from the constant bloodshed that came with every curse you exorcised. The constant criticisms that came from the people around you to become even stronger weighing heavily on your mind.
The pressure was beginning to take a huge toll on you. You felt like you as an individual didn’t matter, your thoughts and feelings deemed irrelevant all in the name of saving others.
However, there were always two people that always made you feel seen.
Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.
It all began when you were enrolled into Jujutsu High during your first year. Leaving behind the secluded town that you once called home, you were completely alone. Knowing what was expected from you, you were told that you were strictly here to become the strongest sorcerer you could be.
But fate had other plans for you. From the day you first stepped into the classroom, Satoru immediately gravitated to you. He knew you were strong and that there was more to you than meets the eye. You also peaked Suguru’s interest from the way you steeled yourself in an attempt to not reveal too much of your inner self. Somehow along the way through various missions and a multitude of adventures, the two men managed to crack away at your defenses and you found yourself in this trio of friendship. Wherever you went, they were right behind you.
Satoru and Suguru were like yin and yang, both physically and metaphorically. The white haired male carried an air of confidence wherever he went. He was the type to never take things too seriously unless truly necessary and he never failed to find ways to make you smile with corny jokes or embarrassing stories. Like that time he nearly burnt the dorm down trying to boil an egg (the reason why he’s banned from the kitchen and why Suguru is in charge of cooking meals).
Meanwhile, the raven haired male was the most level headed between you three. Every move and action he made was always thought through carefully. Although he didn’t necessarily encourage Satoru’s endless shenanigans (and by default yours as well as his), Suguru never hesitated to come to the rescue for you both. Life as a sorcerer didn’t seem so bad anymore if it meant having these two by your side.
Until you didn’t.
“Toru, let’s get dinner with Suguru!”
“Sorry sweets, I have a mission right after this but I’m all yours next time!”
“Hey man, are you still down for hanging at (y/n)’s dorm later?”
“Can’t. They’re sending me off to deal with this one curse they couldn’t handle. Luckily they have the strongest to handle it!”
The stronger Satoru became over the years, the more he went solo on missions, and the less time you found yourself seeing him. Instead of taking on missions as a trio, you found yourself more often going with just Suguru. Having him by your side made it a little easier, but you had to admit that you were missing Satoru’s presence. You could tell it was affecting Suguru too based on how quiet and reserved he was becoming.
“Toru?” you called, phone pressed to your ear. “Where are you? You were supposed to get back from your mission half an hour ago. The food is getting cold.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. This curse is taking longer to exorcise than expected. I’ll join you guys next time,” Satoru sighed over the call. He was on guard and in the middle of tracking down this special grade curse when you had called. But he never hesitated to drop everything for you even if he was in the middle of a dangerous mission.
“You said that last time…”
Satoru swore he felt his heart break listening to the disappointment in your voice. Guilt settled into his chest as he ran a tired hand through his snowy locks with a frown. If it were up to him, he’d abandon his mission in a heartbeat to be by your side but he knew he couldn’t. It killed him to know he was making you sad because you didn’t deserve that.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I’ll make it up to you and treat you to the best dinner you’ll ever have later. Say hi to Suguru for me, okay?” he responded softly, doing his best to soften the hurt you were feeling.
With a hum, you tried your best to sound happy over the phone. “I will. Just… come back safe, okay?”
“Always,” Satoru promised. With much restraint, he forced himself to hang up the phone.
With that, your arm fell limply at your side with your phone clenched tightly in your hand. Suguru watched the forced smile fall from your face, the disappointment evident as clear as day as you fell into a daze. Without you even saying anything, he knew his best friend had once again canceled plans. He knew that Satoru didn’t have a choice in the matter but it was still heartbreaking to see the effects that it had on you.
Suguru wasn’t blind. He suspected that your feelings for Satoru extended far beyond friendship, which made his own feelings for you that much worse knowing you were possibly in love with his best friend and not him.
You barely processed the way Suguru softly called out to you, only jumping in surprise when he placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry, Sugu. I didn’t even see you walk over to me. Toru says hi,” you offered a small apologetic smile to the tall man who only smiled reassuringly to you.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I take it that lunch will just be us?” he hummed, feeling his heart clench at your weak nod.
With a deep sigh, he opened his arms. “C’mere.”
Without a second to spare, you immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his sturdy chest. His cologne always had a way of grounding you, the scent of sandalwood and bergamot filling your senses. You didn’t realize how tense you were until you felt your body melt into his embrace. Suguru wrapped an arm around your middle and placed a gentle hand behind your head holding you close.
“You know he would be here if he could,” he consoled.
“I know. I just miss him a lot. It’s been so long since we last saw him since he’s constantly away on missions,” you mumbled against his chest.
“At least I’m here, right? Unless you hate my company,” he lightly joked in an attempt to make you feel better.
It seemed to have worked because you leaned back in his embrace with a chuckle and looked up with those kind eyes of yours. God, he loved your eyes. “I could never hate you, Sugu.”
Feeling his heart race with your words, Suguru gently patted the top of your head with a chuckle, “Good girl.”
You felt extremely lucky to have Suguru by your side. It seemed like he always knew the right words to say. You took a moment to take in his face and your expression immediately fell.
Amongst your sadness, you failed to realize how exhausted he looked. Hues of purple and blue lingered below his eyes like he didn’t sleep in days. He had some new scratches on his face, probably from the many missions he had taken on this week alone. His eyes, although warm at you, looked distant as if he wasn’t completely here. He had also lost a considerable amount of weight.
How selfish of you to see that you weren’t the only one struggling. You knew Riko’s and Haibara’s death greatly affected Suguru and you tried your best to support him. Perhaps you weren't trying hard enough.
“When was the last time you slept?” you frowned, brushing your fingers to gently grace over his eyebags.
Suguru felt his heart quicken at your touch, feeling his neck begin to warm. Coughing to clear his throat, he reached up to remove your hand from his face and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I slept last night.”
“For how long?” you pressed.
He gave a nonchalant shrug, holding his chin in pretend thought. “A few hours maybe.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he was lying to probably make you feel better but it only worsened your worries. Huffing, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over to your bed before forcing him to lay down. You went to pack up the unforgotten lunch, neither of you having much of an appetite anymore.
“Sleep,” you ordered, peering over your shoulder at him with hands on your hips like a mother scolding her child. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you up later before we head out.”
“Only if you nap with me.”
Turning to look at the dark haired sorcerer in shock, he only smirked back in response as he laid on his back with one hand behind his head and the other extended to you in invitation.
You bit your lip. Was it appropriate to lie in bed with him, your best friend? You, Satoru and Suguru have had sleepovers before but they always insisted on you having the bed while they slept on the floor (although that didn’t stop Satoru from trying to share the bed with you anyway which usually ended with Suguru dragging his ass down).
Looking at Suguru, you knew he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Feeling the dull ache in your bones and your tired muscles weighing you down, your body moved on its own before gingerly laying next to him, your arms pressed firmly against your chest as you laid a few inches away from him to give him space.
Letting out an exaggerated yawn, Suguru suddenly pulled you tightly against him as you let out a small yelp in surprise. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, setting his chin on top before closing his eyes in content.
You felt your heart race at his actions, a gesture you were used to from him but suddenly felt much more intimate in this position. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to calm the erratic pace of yours.
As a calm comfortable silence eventually ensued between you both, you found your thoughts drifting off to Satoru again. He had been gone for at least five days on this current mission. Was he eating well? Was he getting enough sleep? What if he was hurt? What if something happened and he needed help?
But you knew Satoru was too prideful to ask for help, insisting that he was the strongest and didn’t need anyone. It was true. He wasn’t called the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the modern age for nothing. However, you refused to let him take on the world alone because… your world was better with him in it.
“Suguru…” you called out quietly in case he was already asleep.
“What is it, pretty?” he hummed in response. He hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“Do you ever get tired of being a sorcerer?”
Slowly opening his eyes, Suguru shifted so that he was laying directly next to you. Now at eye level with you, he saw just how drained you were. The sparkle that usually glimmered brightly in your eyes had now reduced to a dull flicker. He hadn’t expect you to ask that question so out of the blue. Mentally, for some time he struggled with where his beliefs stood. What did it mean to be a sorcerer and most importantly, why?
“Because I do.”
It took a few seconds for him to register the words that left your mouth. He watched as you tried to blink away tears, your small hands clenching the front of his shirt within your fists as you looked away shamefully.
“I miss how we used to be back when I first came to Jujutsu High, before we got so busy. I miss when you, Satoru and I would sneak out the dorms to get that kikufuku that he likes. I miss going to that cute cat cafe in Tokyo, the one where the kittens love swatting at your hair. I miss going to the night markets and eating until we nearly pass out into food comas.”
“I know that it’s my moral duty to protect non-sorcerers. That’s why jujutsu sorcerers like us exist. But Sugu, it’s so hard. Everyday I feel like I’m losing myself because it's a constant cycle of wake up, train, exorcise, sleep and repeat. I know I don’t have to worry about Satoru because he can hold his own so I try my best to be strong. For him, for you, and for me. I have to be strong but how strong do I have to be before I can finally breathe?”
By the end of your vent, you didn’t realize you were crying. Watching you in so much distress made Suguru’s chest twist. He desperately wished he could take away all of your pain and worries. Pulling your head back into his chest, he let you fall apart in his arms, whispering sweet nothings and comforting words into your ear as your body shook with the intensity of your sobs. After some time, your crying dwindled down to soft little sniffles.
“Run away with me.”
Silence. Suguru felt you stiffen at his words and watched as your eyes morphed into confusion. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you tried to process if you had heard him right. Staring into his brown eyes with not an ounce of a smile on his lips, you realized he was dead serious.
“Suguru, you’re joking, right?” you stuttered in disbelief.
“Does it look like I’m joking?” he replied, brushing the hair away from your eyes that was still damp from your previous tears.
“Hear me out. What if we could create a world where there were no more cursed spirits? No more having to put your life on the line for weak humans who spend every minute of their lives in ignorant bliss while you shed blood, sweat and tears daily for the sake of their so-called humanity.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the somber tone the conversation took on. You frowned, “How exactly do we plan to do that? Is a world like that even possible?”
“I believe it is. My only wish is that you just trust me. Come with me,” he pleaded.
Suguru placed his large hand over your two small ones that still rested on his chest and gave them a small squeeze. He watched the various emotions run through your face as your eyes tormented over his request. He wasn’t completely sure if you’d give in to him but he’ll be damned if he didn’t at least try.
You didn’t know how to feel. Suguru was basically throwing you a lifeline to start over fresh and build a new life, a happier and free one. But you also knew it’d be dangerous. The moment you both disappear, you knew they’d send people out to find you both at all costs. You would have to leave everything and everyone you know behind. Everyone… including Satoru.
As if reading your thoughts, Suguru felt a pang of jealousy hit him. Even now, your thoughts were preoccupied on someone else instead of the man before you who would give his life for you. He knew you were thinking of his best friend, Gojo Satoru, the only other person in this world that understood him best other than you. But this was the one thing that he knew Satoru wouldn’t understand.
“I know you’re worried about him. Think of it this way. If we go, you’ll be able to protect him and ease his burden as the strongest sorcerer. He’ll be able to live the free life he deserves,” he coaxed you. “Isn’t that what you want?”
You thought over his words carefully before responding with hesitance.
“Of course that’s what I want. But Suguru, you’re asking for a whole lot and betting our lives on ‘what if’s. How long have you been thinking about this?” you questioned, your voice laden in deep concern.
“A while now,” he sighed, unable to meet your gaze for a minute before softening his eyes back at you.
“You don’t have to give me an answer now. I’ll respect any decision you make no matter what. For now, sleep on it and we can talk more about it after this mission to whatever village they’re sending us to tonight.”
Thoughts still heavily weighing on your mind, you relented. “...Okay.”
Nothing could have prepared Satoru for the words that left Yaga’s mouth the next day.
“112 killed by a cursed spirit revealed to be the work of Geto Suguru’s curse manipulation. Geto Suguru is hereby sentenced to death. (l/n) (y/n) has been deemed an accomplice in the crime and hereby also sentenced to death.”
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