#you’re telling me normal people do not feel like crying because yesterday they hung up some posters and now their back has been off all day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where the gallaghers + kev & vee find out about ian's 87% comment and they all give their opinions and ask why mickey, ian's husband who's been a part of ian's life for nearly eleven years only gets 87% of his heart, if the other 13% goes towards his toxic exes and why since they're not in his life anymore, ian explaining himself and ends with ian taking the comment back so mickey has 100% of his heart

I decided this was perfect for Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It! Thanks as always to @gallavichthings for hosting💖. Also on AO3.

Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart)

It was a normal morning in the Gallagher kitchen.

That is to say, it was chaotic.

Carl and Liam sat across from each other at the narrow table, tossing dry loops of off-brand cereal at each other over Franny’s backpack, which lay open between them. The girl herself was running circles around them both in her pajamas, Debbie chasing after her with a stern face and a frilly dress held in outstretched hands.

“Come on, Franny,” she muttered impatiently as her daughter evaded her again by diving under the table, “just put on the dress!”

Mickey laughed when Franny ran to him instead, trying to hide behind his legs where he stood by the brewing coffeemaker. Ian ruined her attempt by swinging her up into his arms and twirling her around until Debbie snatched her from him, resulting in an angry shriek as Franny writhed in her hold.

“For fuck’s sake, keep it down in here!” Lip hissed, coming in from the living room where Tami had just gotten Fred settled in his play pen. “If you get Fred crying again, I swear I’ll fucking end you all.”

If anything, the kitchen got louder as everyone there chimed in in their own defense.

Mickey just snorted as he grabbed two mugs and got to pouring the fresh coffee. “Good luck with that,” he offered to Lip, amused. “You get one Gallagher going, you get the whole fucking pack.”

Lip glared at him, opened his mouth the say something undoubtedly scathing and most likely regarding Mickey’s place in the family, when Carl laughed and chimed in from the table.

“Funny, man, that’s what Trevor said to me and Ian at the station yesterday.”

The room went quiet.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Ian, who could see the way his husband’s back immediately tensed at the familiar name, the way he gripped the handle of his mug a little too tight and poured the coffee a little too high before setting down the pot with a hard clack.

“Trevor, huh?” Mickey asked, voice deceptively mild, and Ian winced behind him.

Carl didn’t get the memo.

“Yeah, you remember him, right?” he checked. “He still works at that youth place, came in to post bail for some kid when Ian was bringing by lunch.” He shrugged, tossed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “We chatted a bit,” he mumbled as he chewed.

Mickey gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles going white under his tattoos. “Funny,” he said quietly, “Ian didn’t think to mention that.”

Ian sighed, ignoring the eyes of his family on their quickly unfolding drama. They’d been fighting a lot lately, a lot more than they used to, and today had been shaping up to be better, damn it. Now he had to do damage control again instead of enjoying a quiet day in with his husband.

“We’ve talked about this, Mickey,” he started, a tad bit exasperated. It must have come through in his voice, because Mickey’s shoulders went up. “Trevor’s not a bad guy, and I’m not gonna avoid him if I see him around.”

Mickey released the counter to grab his coffee again, taking a long, scalding swallow. “Right,” he said finally, not looking at Ian. “Not a bad guy at all. Just wanted to leave your ass rotting in jail when you couldn’t be his poster boy anymore, that’s all.”

“Mickey…” Ian warned, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me, Ian,” Mickey mused, turning to face him with hard eyes. “How much of that thirteen percent belongs to him?”

Fuck. Not that again.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Debbie was the one to ask first, voice cutting through their palpable tension. She’d even stopped trying to force the dress over Franny’s head in the interim, allowing the girl to escape up the stairs unscathed. “What thirteen percent?”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that,” Lip butted in. “Said Mickey got all bent out of shape cause Ian still thinks about his exes, or something, right?”

Ian closed his eyes against the hurt in Mickey’s as his brother revealed that he knew about their squabble. Fuck his family right now, seriously.

“Not quite,” he gritted out, but when he opened his eyes again, Mickey had schooled his face back into disinterest.

“No, that’s just about it,” Mickey confirmed. “Got my nose out of joint because Ian, here,” he gestured at Ian with his mug, ignoring the hot coffee that splashed over the side, “said I only got eighty-seven percent of his heart.”

Someone whistled, low and long. Ian couldn’t tell who.

“It’s not that big a deal,” he insisted yet again. “My whole life is a fucking shrine to you, Mick. If my heart was a room, there’s be posters of you on every fucking wall.” He took a step closer, until Mickey’s mug pressed into his own chest, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“You really can’t let the others have a little space in that room? Not even in the bottom drawer of a dresser that nobody uses anyway?”

Mickey was still, and silent. Then he spun around and slammed his mug back down on the counter, shoved past Ian, and stormed off up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ian called after him.

“To clean out the goddamn drawers!”

It was quiet in Mickey’s wake, and then—

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Carl said frankly, and Liam nodded in agreement, eyes wide.

“Did you really say that?” Debbie asked, sounding horrified, and before Ian could answer the back door slammed open.

“Morning neighbors!” Vee greeted as she came through, Kev on her heels. She was holding something, a dish covered in foil, and a carton of juice hung from Kev’s hand.

“We brought you guys some…” Vee trailed off when no one even looked at her, noticing the tension in the room.

“Uh,” she voiced, confused, “what did we miss?”

Carl answered, still looking at Ian in disbelief. “Ian told Mickey he keeps stuff from his exes in a drawer, so Mickey’s up there looking for it.”

“Oh, that’s cold man,” Kev breathed, and Ian exhaled.

“It was a metaphor,” he muttered, and Vee heard him.

“A metaphor for what?” she asked, curious.

“For the thirteen percent of Ian’s heart that belongs to other people,” Debbie revealed, and Vee set down her dish with a clatter.

“You said that to him?” she clarified, and at Ian’s reluctant nod, shook her head and turned to Kev.

“You ever say shit like that to me,” she said firmly, “I’ll cut off thirteen percent of your dick.”

—

A few long minutes later, after he had finally escaped his family’s inquisition about the state of his relationship, Ian made his way upstairs, alone.

When he got to their bedroom, Mickey wasn’t actually going through their things. He was just sitting on their bed, back to the wall, spinning his wedding ring round and round on his finger. Next to him, balanced on their folded blanket, sat the little box with the fancy ones they used in the ceremony just so they wouldn’t have to take theirs off.

Ian’s heart beat harder. That box had been sitting safe in the bottom drawer of their shared dresser.

The one that nobody used.

“Hey,” he said softly from the doorway. Mickey didn’t look up.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and that at least got a response.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” Mickey returned, eyes on his knees.

He didn’t. Not really. He looked haggard, and upset, his hair spiky where restless fingers had combed through it. Ian couldn’t see his eyes, but he had a feeling they were rimmed in red.

Ian let himself into the room, sat opposite Mickey on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor. He reached out to trace a finger over the rings in the box, and then the ring on Mickey’s finger.

Mickey let his own hand fall away when he did.

“You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” Ian asked, suddenly desperate to hear Mickey agree. He needed to know that Mickey understood, that just because he remembered his past, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated to his future.

But Mickey just shrugged.

“Not a lot of ways you can mean it,” he said, and shit. Ian had really fucked up this time. “Either I have your whole heart or I don’t,” Mickey continued, “and I don’t. So,” he shrugged again, “whatever.”

Ian took a moment. A long one. He thought of Mickey’s reaction the first time he had said it, when he was mostly just teasing. The way he had been shocked to think that Ian still had fond thoughts for other men. And he thought of his family downstairs, each one more fucked up than the last, all in agreement over the severity of his error.

And to be honest, he still didn’t quite get the uproar. But maybe that was because none of them got his side, either.

“You’re right,” he began, “you don’t.”

Mickey tensed further, pulling away from him on the bed, but Ian wasn’t done.

“You have all the good bits, you know,” he continued. He went to rest a hand on Mickey’s chest, saw his stiffness, and pointed at his own instead.

“You have all four chambers,” he told him. “Atrium and ventricle. You keep my blood moving, keep it useful, keep me alive. And you have my valves,” he added, trailing a finger side to side to point to the right spots as he spoke. “Mitral and aorta, pulmonary and tricuspid.” He smiled. “You keep me going in the right direction.”

Mickey was softening, he could tell, the tension seeping from his limbs as Ian droned on. He kept going anyway.

“You have all my arteries, Mick,” he whispered. “You’re in all my veins. You said I was under your skin, once?” Ian laughed. “Well you’re under my skin, too. And in my muscles, and in my blood.”

“And the others, they’re like…” he hesitated, searched for the right words. Better words than he had used before. “They’re like cholesterol,” he settled on, “plaque. Or…like the scar tissue from a triple bypass, the parts that don’t work anymore.”

Mickey’s lips quirked, despite himself, and Ian counted it as a victory.

“You have a lot a heart surgeries, Gallagher?” he questioned softly, catching on.

Ian smile widened, and he reached out to take Mickey’s hand. This time, Mickey didn’t pull away.

“Maybe a few,” he admitted. “And maybe I’m better for it.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, held it there.

“I don’t mind the broken bits,” he told his husband. “The pieces they left behind. Because you pushed through them every time, and made me healthy again.”

Mickey fidgeted, and nudged himself off the wall to settle closer to Ian’s side.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Ian asked earnestly. “Because I want you to, you know.” He dropped Mickey’s hand to hold his face instead, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I want you to know that that thirteen percent, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters are the parts that are you.”

"I chose you, Mickey," he murmured. He reached out blindly for the spare rings in their box on the bed, worked one free. Slipped it onto Mickey's finger without looking away from his eyes. Mickey's hand clenched around it, around Ian's hand, and held tight.

"I married you," Ian added. "Because I love you with every real part of my heart, every little bit that works."

“All eighty-seven percent?” Mickey prods with a soft expression, leaning forward until his nose brushes Ian’s.

“All eighty-seven percent,” Ian confirmed, and kissed him.

#daily speedwrite #gw2021 #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #fix-it #gallagher family #albeit briefly

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mizunetzu · 4 years

Text

Lovely tags: @xstar-kidx @shiny-bun @runawayvictorianchild @tea-whore @mixijima @fudobaby @fa1ryblood4 @shawwniebinnie @2o77danilopez @cha-boi-after-dem-kneecaps @vincent0kirishima @dxcter @li-xero-x

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Kuroo x reader - ...Yet it Happened Again (you did once pt.2)

⚠️Warnings - Bokuto running around without underwear so his pants and his asscheeks prolly stank, none

Pronouns - he/him

You can find part one here!

——————

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry as well.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile connotated with pity.

“You did once.”

(Y/n) rubbed at the back of his head, trying not to suffocate in the aggravating silence that consumed the air. He looked off to the side, looking to the ground where his feet stood, then kept his gaze trained on his feet.

He didn’t want to see Kuroo’s face again. Not because he was uncomfortable that he liked him, no. He was sure they’d be good buddies again in a few days. He just didn’t want to see that pitiful expression that hung heavy with rejection. Even (Y/n) was an empathetic person.

“We should head back...” (Y/n) said, mumbling into the ground. “Yeah,” Kuroo’s disembodied voice rang, albeit a bit wavy and dry. It twisted (Y/n’s) heart into knots.

(Y/n) pushed off the railing and began to walk away. People would be wondering where they went.

“Are you comi-“ (Y/n’s) voice hitched in his throat.

Kuroo was smiling. His eyes closed, a gentle, warm smile on his face as he held himself with his arms wrapped tightly around themselves. (Y/n’s) furrowed his eyebrows.

Kuroo seemed to notice the gaze of confusion from him, so he looked up. His eyes were gentle, they held no grudge or blame for (Y/n), eyes that respected and adored his decision, even if it was rejection on his part. Some part of him wished Kuroo would be more mad, so he didn’t have to feel so bad about turning down his confession.

“There’s...” Kuroo finally spoke up after what seemed like forever. “...nothing I can really do to change your mind.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. Not smirk, but a soft, clad smile. (Y/n) frowned.

“And it made me realize just how happy I am to still be your friend. And I think I’m satisfied with that for now.”

Kuroo hiked himself off the railing as well, not bothering for an answer from (Y/n) and his unreadable expression. He walked past him, before stopping and turning around.

“Thanks for hearing me out, (Y/n). I have my answer now and I can stop stressing, so thank you for that.”

“Let’s go back.”

(Y/n) nodded quietly. He didn’t trust his voice to come out the way he wanted, so he chose to silently follow Kuroo back to the gym.

——

Why did it feel so bad?

He knew rejecting people always felt sort of burdenful, but he never thought about things like that more than a day at most, usually forgetting the whole thing happened after a good amount of time. But (Y/n) found himself thinking about it even three days after his rejection to Kuroo.

Was it because it was his friend who he rejected? His old crush? (Y/n) bounced a volleyball against the ground, before bringing it up into a toss. He tossed the ball absentmindedly as his teammates did whatever solo practice they wanted to do.

(Y/n) hummed to himself. Even though he was confused as to why it felt so bad to reject Kuroo, he wondered why he didn’t take his rejection more heavily even more.

It was a rejection, he should’ve been at least a bit more sad then that. But he was smiling. Kuroo was smiling as (Y/n) so selfishly told him he didn’t love him. God, why did he have to confess so early into training camp?

Maybe it was because he was such a kind person...a kind, kind person. He was lucky to have a friend like that, willing to be happy being friends with someone like him, who broke his heart. So lucky. Lucky that Kuroo was kind and caring and-

The volleyball dropped and bounced off (Y/n’s) face, before tumbling onto the ground and bouncing away. (Y/n) stumbled back with a groan, tripping and falling onto his ass as he tried to regain his bearings. He must’ve been so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he was tossing the ball. He sat and rubbed at his face. It stung, especially since the ball dropped from so high up.

“(Y/n)!”

He heard a voice yell. (Y/n’s) heart swelled. From guilt or from something else, he didn’t know.

In a second Kuroo was standing over him, a worried look on his face. He crouched down to his side.

“Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.” Kuroo gave no time for (Y/n) to answer, as he pulled his hand away from his head and cupped his cheek. He brought (Y/n’s) face close to his own, examining it closely. (Y/n) held his breath, and looked anywhere but him. “Your forehead looks kinda red.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine...” (Y/n) brought his hand up to Kuroo’s wrist to get him to let go of his face, but he held it firm, but with the gentleness of a feather at the same time. His hand was warm. He wished it was cold so his heart would calm down. He wished he would let go already.

Kuroo scanned the gym for the nearest adult. Coach Nekomata was busy being talked off by Karasuno’s coach, so he couldn’t go there. And he’s pretty sure everyone else was busy. Kuroo sighed.

“Get up, I’m taking you to the health office so you can rest.”

In a second, (Y/n) was pulled to his feet and walking towards the health office. Kuroo yelled something over to a nearby coach, who nodded and let him continue to the office.

“Wh-but it was just a bump-?!”

Kuroo held his fingers to his lips. “Dude, I’m bailing you out from practice for a few minutes, the least you can do is thank me.”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. He furrowed his brows with a huff as he walked in silence.

Kuroo Tetsurou is such a kind person.

——

(Y/n) flopped onto the nurse's office’s bed face down, sighing into the dense mattress. It wasn’t even that comfortable, but to a tired volleyball player, it was like laying on warm clouds.

“Air conditioning feels so niiiiiiiice...” (Y/n) sunk deeper into the school-provided pillows, his sweat beginning to cool as the AC blew cold air into the room. Kuroo closed the office door, so no one would catch them ditching, and sat down on the bed next to (Y/n).

He sat there for a few seconds, testing the waters, before slowly laying down beside (Y/n). He looked up from the pillow, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Kuroo laying down.

“Am I not allowed to lay down?”

“Well-it’s just—“

“Calm down, (Y/n),” Kuroo chuckled. He shifted from his spot on the small bed, laying on his side and facing (Y/n). “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna pounce on you while we’re resting or something.”

“I’m tired too.”

Kuroo pulled up the folded blanket to both of their shoulders. (Y/n) shrunk back into the mattress slightly when Kuroo placed the bed sheet over him. “If they ask where we were, just say I was icing your forehead or something.”

Kuroo settled into the bed. In seconds, (Y/n) could’ve sworn he was already out like a light, quietly snoring while he wrapped his arms around himself atop the blanket. It didn’t help that the bed was small, made for people of normal height and certainly only for one person.

Especially with Kuroo, almost 6’2; (Y/n) was closer to Kuroo’s face than he would have liked.

He saw the way Kuroo’s chest would flutter every time he took a deep breath in, or the way his impossibly messy hair fell into his face, making it even more untamable than it already is. Or the way his lips were so deliciously parted, making his face look relaxed and peaceful.

He could stare at it forever. He could stare at him forever. And it was scary.

(Y/n) clutched the fabric of his shirt that clung right over his heart. There was no way he could sleep like this. Not when he was so close to Kuroo Tetsurou...

But even as he thought that, both of them somehow woke up entangled in each others arms, comfortable, and skipping practice peacefully. Not even Coach Nekomata had the heart to wake them up when he so curiously wandered into the health office looking for the two. Which is why they didn’t until Yaku dragged Kuroo forcefully onto the ground, bringing (Y/n) down with him.

——

(Y/n) thinks he knows why it felt so bad.

It wasn’t as hard to figure out. After all, the warm, fluttery feeling he felt as he woke up so suddenly, on the ground staring up at Yaku while directly on Kuroo’s chest was too telling.

The feelings he tried so hard to forget were resurfacing again. And he hated it.

Don’t get him wrong, Kuroo openly admitted to liking him just a few days ago, and just yesterday he woke up on top of his chest, but it was almost embarrassing to admit he was falling all over again. He didn’t want to. God, he didn’t want to.

Suck it up, keep it inside until training camp is over. That’s what he told himself. Then (Y/n) wouldn’t have to see Kuroo’s stupid, lovable face all day every day. Maybe then these feelings would bubble over again. That easy.

“(Y/n)~!”

Or so he thought.

Kuroo came jogging up to (Y/n), a plate of breakfast in his hand as he slumped down in the seat next to him. Kuroo dug into his breakfast, piling rice into his mouth as (Y/n) hummed out a greeting.

Kuroo swallowed a big lump of rice thickly. He clasped his hands together, before rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry about yesterday...totally didn’t expect to fall asleep on you...or koala you while I was sleeping…”

“S’fine…” (Y/n) said, hungrily shoveling food into his mouth. He barely heard anything that Kuroo said over the sound of his stomach rumbling. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yesh.” (Y/n) chewed, thought about it, then swallowed. “...No.”

“(Y/nnnnn)!” Kuroo banged on the table lightly as he whined jokingly. (Y/n) chuckled into his plate of rice.

“Kidding, kidding! Yeah, I heard-”

“Though I wouldn’t blame you if it went totally over your head there. Y’know, since you’re so dense sometimes~”

“Fuckin-Tetsurou!”

Kuroo cackled as (Y/n) spat rice at him while he sputtered. His laugh was unrestrained, and as funny-sounding as it was, it sounded so genuine and wholehearted that you couldn’t help but listen as his laughter sang. It was stupid. It was Kuroo.

(Y/n) stopped laughing before Kuroo, stopping unconsciously to listen to his contagious laugh. He only then realized he called him by his first name habitually, like he’d done years ago. As his laughter died down, (Y/n) quickly turned to his plate of half-eaten food to avoid being caught staring at him.

“Ahhhh sorry sorry-you’re just very fun to-Kenma! Get off you’re psp and eat, damnit!”

Kuroo stood up from the table, pointing at Kenma, who was trying to somehow hide himself behind Hinata. Kuroo turned back to (Y/n). “Sorry, let me grab Kenma’s psp real quick. He was gonna sit next to us until he saw Shrimpy over there, and he’s probably too busy showing him his games to eat. Gimme a sec, ‘kay?”

Kuroo fled from the table, disappearing off to nag Kenma like a mom. (Y/n) picked up his chopsticks, picking up a small veggie with his sticks when a phone buzzed.

(Y/n) fished his phone out of his pocket, switching it on only to be met with a blank screen with his background photo. A picture of him and Kuroo posing in front of a ramen shop’s fish mascot, pretending to eat it as Kenma set his hand on the fish to contribute to the photo. No notifications. It wasn’t his phone.

The phone buzzed again, and it was only then (Y/n) realized it was the phone on the table, in the seat directly next to him. Kuroo’s seat. It was Kuroo’s phone.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. He grabbed the phone, intending to turn it off or dismiss the notification, when his eyes caught the message banner.

One new message from “Yumemite”

Huh. He could’ve sworn the last time he’d seen Kuroo’s phone, her contact name was somewhere along the lines of “Cutie Yumi <3” or “love of my life”. But it was what was under that banner that really peaked his interest.

‘hows it goin with (Y/n)????’

(Y/n) knew he shouldn’t intrude on Kuroo’s texts. It was a breach of privacy, and Kuroo could come back any second. Still, the message was about him, so he had a right to know...right?

He typed in Kuroo’s password the last he remembered it. Yumemite’s birthday. Quickly typing in the digits, his cringed slightly when the words ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ glared at him, and erased the wrong password from the text box.

(Y/n) glared back at Kuroo’s phone, even as he felt a sense of pride that Yumi’s birthday wasn’t the answer. He typed in Kuroo’s own birthday into the text box with a smirk.

The screen flashed ‘INCORRECT PASSWORD’ once again.

Now, this really got (Y/n) confused. Kuroo was very basic with passwords. His birthday, or someone else’s birthday like his mom, had always been his go-to password. But it was almost always his own birthday. (Y/n) gulped, and hesitantly typed in one more birthday into the box.

The screen slid up, granting him access to Kuroo’s phone. (Y/n) couldn’t tell if his stomach dropped or if his chest exploded with butterflies.

The number he had typed in was his own birthday.

(Y/n) shook the butterflies off, clicking on the messages app and opening the conversation with Yumemite. He scrolled up until his name wasn’t mentioned in conversation anymore, which was a few days ago, the day he rejected Kuroo to be precise.

Yumemite - howd it go??

Yumemite - he said yes right??

Kuroo - no

Kuroo - brb gonna go listen to mitski and cry :,)

Yumemite - AWWW IM SO SORRY :(((((

Kuroo - wait lmao dont be i was joking

Yumemite - ?

Yumemite - wait so he said yes-?

Kuroo - well- no

Kuroo - he rejected me but tbh id rather be his friend than not have him in my life at all yk??

Kuroo - like i can learn to get over him but itd fuckin suck if i lost him altogether

Kuroo - hes too important to me for that

Kuroo - i love him too much >>>

Yumemite - gay

Kuroo - shut up u literally have a gf

Yumemite - yeah <3 unlike one of us

Kuroo - I JUST GOT REJECTED AND YOURE PULLING THAT SHIT

(Y/n) smiled to himself as he read through the texts. He felt oddly happy that he was ‘important enough’ to Kuroo that he’d be willing to stay as friends even though he was rejected.

(Y/n) switched off the phone as he heard approaching footsteps. He slid the phone back into its place as Kuroo slumped back in his seat, psp in hand.

He hoped he didn’t notice.

——

(Y/n) wished he didn’t know why he felt so bad. Now that he knew, it just felt worse.

Every little touch, every little ‘(Y/n)~!’, hell, every little glance he sent his way sent shivers down (Y/n) spine. And he hated it.

He hated how he couldn’t stop himself from falling hopelessly in love with Kuroo Tetsurou all over again.

He wasn’t deliberately doing anything to get him to fall so bad either. No flirtatious comments, touches that get a little too personal, nothing. It was just Kuroo being his friend, and that made it one-hundred times worse.

Did that mean Kuroo got over him that quickly? Did he not like him anymore, and that’s why he was so comfortable sleeping in the same bed as him? Or laughing and touching him all buddy-buddy during breakfast? Did he-

Did he really move on that quickly?

(Y/n) ran fingers through his hair as he walked into the gym. It should’ve been a good thing, Kuroo moving on. He should’ve been happy about that. So why wasn’t he? Why…

“KUROOOOO! YOU ROOSTER SHIIIIIIIIT!”

Bokuto’s voice boomed from behind (Y/n). He jumped, but before he could turn around, an arm snatched his wrist and pulled him along.

(Y/n) legs ran faster than he could keep up with. Kuroo lay ahead, sprinting as fast as he could with (Y/n’s) wrist in his clutch. He looked from a cackling Kuroo’s back, to Bokuto chasing behind them.

“Wh-?!”

“I stole all of Bokuto’s underwear from his bag while he was in the shower.” Kuroo said between jagged pants as he turned a sharp corner. (Y/n) stumbled along, trying to keep up.

“And you brought me along why?!”

“Hey-! I didn’t mean to! You were just right in front of me and you were like-thinking about something so you probably didn’t hear me screaming to get outta the way so I just grabbed you-!”

Fair enough. (Y/n) huffed as Kuroo hurriedly opened up a storage closet and ducked into it.

It was fairly big, about the size of a volleyball club room and very, very dark. (Y/n) could barely see the faint outline of Kuroo’s jawline as he felt around the doorknob, snickering.

“Shit-there’s no lock…”

“Kurooooooo!”

“Fuck! Uh-!”

Kuroo looked around as he heard Bokuto’s footsteps nearing the closet. Looking at (Y/n), he could very clearly see the bright white of his shirt, contrasting the way Kuroo’s black one blended into the dark. If Bokuto barged in, he’d see (Y/n), which would lead to him finding Kuroo, and...well.

Without thinking, Kuroo pushed (Y/n) against the corner of the room, placing each of his hands on either side of him as he practically smushed himself against him. The door barged open, faint yellow light flooding into the dark room as Bokuto angrily stomped in.

Kuroo mouthed a “Don’t...move…” as slowly as he could to avoid his lips smacking or making noise, and he’s pretty sure he got the message with how utterly close their faces were to touching.

(Y/n) was so close he could practically count the eyelashes on Kuroo’s pretty eyes. Were Kuroo’s eyes always so bright? They looked hypnotic and endless as he looked off to the side, trying to see Bokuto searching the closet childishly.

(Y/n) swallowed the lump in his throat as quietly as he could, pressing against the wall as much as humanly possible with how close Kuroo was.

Bokuto huffed, nearing Kuroo and (Y/n’s) hiding spot. Kuroo unconsciously pressed closer, hoping Bokuto wouldn’t see the white of (Y/n’s) shirt. Things disappear with the color black in the dark, he just hoped Bokuto was dumb enough to not see Kuroo’s hair or his black shirt.

Kuroo’s face was so close to (Y/n) that they were practically pressing on eachother. Kuroo’s lips lay a mere centimeter away from (Y/n), one push from Bokuto, one slip from Kuroo, hell, one little gust of wind and they’d lock lips anytime soon.

Kuroo couldn’t help but stare into (Y/n’s) wide eyes with a sweaty, flushed face. (Y/n) couldn’t tear his eyes off of Kuroo’s half-lidded golden ones, especially with the way his lips were so tantalizingly close…

They jumped, however, when Bokuto kicked over a bucket with a loud “Hey, hey, hey!”. They both tensed as Bokuto pouted once more.

“I know you two are in here-!”

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto whipped his head around.

“Akgashfgjhi!”

Akaashi held up a pair of light blue boxers. “He missed one. Put them on before your pants start to smell. We’ll find him later.”

When Akaashi appeared, (Y/n) didn’t know. Neither did Kuroo. Nevertheless, Bokuto swiped the boxers from Akaashi gratefully, and turned back to the “empty” room.

“I’ll pay you back for this! Stupid Kuroo! Dumb rooster! I’m comin’ back for my underwear! Hey, hey, hey!”

Bokuto’s voice faded away as he left the storage room. Kuroo sighed in relief. (Y/n’s) head and vision felt hazy and cloudy as Kuroo let out a breathy laugh, still very close to each other's faces.

“I bet Bokuto wasn’t wearing any underwear, how disgusting.” Kuroo chuckled, beginning to pull away from their very cramped position in the corner. (Y/n) looked at Kuroo’s shiny ember eyes, down to his plush-looking lips. His face was still mere centimeters away from his own, then they locked eyes and suddenly (Y/n) wasn’t thinking about Yumemite or his regret anymore.

It wasn’t just a little kiss. Not like a little peck or a hesitant first kiss with your highschool boyfriend on your first date. It was grab-him-by-the-neck, bury-your-fingers-into-his-messy-hair, why-was-I-so-scared-about-loving-you-again kissing right against the wall of the storage closet.

(Y/n) pressed his back against the wall, bringing Kuroo in as close as his body could. Kuroo circled one of his hands around (Y/n’s) waist, letting the other rest on the wall and for seven seconds everything was bliss until-

Kuroo pushed himself back, pushing (Y/n) off him and letting his head hang down.

He pushed. (Y/n). Off. Of. Him. He wouldn’t mind if the wall would open up and swallow him whole. Kuroo didn’t look at him, he refused to, as he kept his arms on (Y/n’s) shoulders to keep his distance.

“...why did you do tha-”

“Don’t you like me, Tetsurou?”

Kuroo finally looked up at the waverly tamber of (Y/n) voice.

“...What?”

“Just a few days ago, you were telling me how much you loved me,” tears stung at (Y/n’s) eyes like heavy weights. He grasped onto Kuroo’s wrists that were on his shoulders, albeit a bit looser than it previously was. “Why is it any different now…?!”

“Wait-(Y/n-” Kuroo was cut off when (Y/n) gripped his wrists tighter.

“Did you...did you really get over me that quickly…? Do you really not love me anymore?!”

Tears began dripping down (Y/n’s) cheeks. Kuroo retracted his hands back, only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed and tugged harshly towards him.

“Wait, (Y/n), listen-”

“No! Shut up!” (Y/n) pushed Kuroo up against a rack behind him, drawing up a grunt from Kuroo. He was about to say something, or maybe push (Y/n’s) arms off of him, when he heard a choked sob, followed by wavering lips and free flowing tears. “It’s not fair..!”

“Why are these feelings coming back..?! Why now! ....I rejected you, there’s...there’s no way you’d like me now…! Especially how fine and buddy-buddy you’ve been acting, it’s clear you moved on! Why do I always choose to like you at the worst times?! Why…”

(Y/n) sobbed, tears cascading in the air as he shook Kuroo up. Kuroo was about to open his mouth again when it ran dry, as (Y/n’s) grip on his shirt tightened even more.

“Why do these feelings always come back when you’re done with me?! When you don’t like me! It won’t leave me alone…! I waited and waited and waited and the one chance I had I threw it away…! But then I just had to love you again when you moved on!”

He melted into a pile of hics and violent sobs, grasping onto Kuroo’s shirt for dear life. Kuroo couldn’t find the words to speak at that moment. He hesitantly put his hands on (Y/n), stabilizing him as he cried into his chest.

“S’not fair...it’s not…” (Y/n) hiccuped. “Not fair...it’s alway you...why do I always come back...to you…”

Kuroo stayed silent for a second. (Y/n), once again, wished the wall would swallow him up. Kuroo then trailed his hand up to (Y/n’s) damp cheek, guiding it up to look at his face.

“When have I ever said I was over you, (Y/n)…” Kuroo’s voice was soft, gentle and scared of shattering the glass that was (Y/n). “Actually...as iffy as it seems...you saying all of this made me sorta...happy…”

(Y/n) sniffed, staring at Kuroo with raw eyes and waiting for him to go on. Kuroo stroked his face with his thumb, catching any stray tears falling from his eye.

“I’ve been really, really sad since you rejected me...I guess I was just that good of an actor since you didn’t notice how much I thought about kissing you and holding you like this everyday while we hung out as ‘friends’…”

Kuroo let his head loll back onto the metal pole rack behind him. “I was just pretending to be happy being your friend—when actually I just wanted to tear my eyes out and scream how much I love you, (Y/n).”

Kuroo gently grasped (Y/n’s) hand, giving him a tentative kiss on the knuckles. (Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, before cupping the hand resting on his cheek. Kuroo looked up from his hand. “This ok?” He asked. (Y/n) nodded with eyes red and numb from crying.

“Then how about this?”

The hand that was resting placidly on (Y/n’s) face brought him closer and closer until their lips met once more.

Kuroo snaked his arms around his waist, pulling him in closer until their bodies were touching. (Y/n) suddenly understood why people described kissing as melting, because every single square inch of his body dissolved into his. He felt weak in the knees, and all of his guilt, all of his regret washed away with each passing second he was in Kuroo’s arms.

Eventually, the two separated for air, half lidded eyes and staring into each other like one would disappear the moment they took their eyes off of them.

Kuroo buried himself into the crook of (Y/n) neck, inhaling deeply. “Aaaaah, i’m so happy right now…”

As Kuroo nuzzled into his shoulder, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think about how much of an absolute mess this whole thing was. Sobbing onto Kuroo, violently shaking him while screaming in his face about how much he loved him, before kissing him again in the corner of a dark storage closet. It was a mess, sure, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And that was something.

——————

Haha..pls...giv serotonin in the comments or reblog tags or smth...would like...to hear...

#kuroo fluff #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x male reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo angst #haikyuu male reader

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hikarimiyanaga · 3 years

Text

Loving You (Part 5)

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

Because exams make me stressed. But I did get through some of them. And I think I only have one more to go! So here comes an update!

Warning : Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words. Mentions of Bullying. Indication of Self-Harm.

Also, just tell me if I need to add more warnings so I can edit as quickly as I can.

Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon / @upsidedowndanvers / @trikruismybitch / @fayhar / @madamevirgo

Monday comes and you stretch your body. You were spent yesterday. There was an emergency at the firm, so your Mom and your sisters had to be there. So you spent half of the day cleaning the house with your Ma but then she also had to go because the emergency got bigger so you had to go do all the cleaning and chores by yourself. You also didn’t get to talk to Wanda because your phone was inside your room all day. The morning was a blur and you snap out of your daze when someone talks to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Wanda asks before you could even go to your locker. You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.

“What? No.”

“Then why didn’t you talk with me yesterday?” You yawn.

“Do I have to?” Wanda gets taken aback as you push past her. She looks shocked at your question. She thought that things were going well? Did she really do something wrong? She clutches her chest as she goes to her first class. Pietro pushes you away from your locker and you let him. It was like the old times where people just shove you or push you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you an idiot?” You don’t answer. You just get your book and close your locker. “Y/LN!” He grabs your arm and you have had enough.

You haven’t had enough sleep.

Your body hurts like someone just smashed it with a sledgehammer.

People are suddenly talking to you.

Your own family doesn’t trust you.

Janine just tried to bully you again last week. You had a nightmare about all the things she had done last year.

You got mad so suddenly because people think you’re trying something when you just want a quiet life.

You’re falling faster and you can’t risk it if Wanda is not your soulmate because you knew that if you do fall then that’s it. A one-time deal that you had no say in.

You dread every day that you get older because it’s just a step away in proving to everyone that you won’t get accepted to colleges.

You’re a Beta who doesn’t deserve to live.

Tears fall and you take a deep breath. Pietro lets go and you thank the stars. You don’t need anyone trying something with you today. You were silent as you wipe your tears away while going to your class.

“Y/LN.” Natasha calls out during lunch and you sigh. You were inside the library and people still somehow found you. You look up to her and sigh as you pack up your things and get your bag. She drags you outside and you just let her. Will this be the day that the Avengers would finally bully you? You just hope they don’t drag along Wanda… damn it. It’s your fault again. Your stomach falls as Natasha drags you to the cafeteria. Will they publicly humiliate you?

“Natasha! What are you-“ Natasha stops as you both get to their table.

“Explain.” You stop as Wanda hides behind Pietro.

“What?”

“Why are you suddenly being a dick?” Angel holds out her hand for them to stop.

“Why are you wearing a jacket?” You pull down your sleeves to hide your wrists and both Wanda and Angel lunge at you, you try to push them away but Natasha tackles you down. She holds you down as Wanda and Angel look at your wrists. They let go as they gasp. You stop resisting and sigh. Natasha checks and glares at you.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” She shouts at you and you don’t even flinch. You look at her with blank eyes and she gulps. What the hell happened?

“Get off me.” You mumble and Natasha complies. You get your bag and get the letter that you received yesterday. “Here.” You hold it out to Wanda and she shakily gets it. You stand and try to leave but Angel stops you. Wanda opens it and cries as she reads. She hugs you and gives Angel the letter. You don’t hug her back.

“What the hell!? Who the fuck sent this!?” Angel shouts and Natasha snatches the letter out of her hand. “You fucking assholes!” Pietro holds Angel back as the Avengers read the letter. Their faces get angrier by the second.

“Who the fuc-“

“Does it matter?” Wanda pulls away and you snatch the letter up. “It’s the truth anyways. Hope you had-“ Angel slaps you and you scoff. “Is that-“ Pietro grabs your collar. He snarls at you.

“This isn’t the truth! For fuck’s sake!”

“It is.” You mumble and Wanda grabs your hand. She drags you to the courtyard and pushes you on the bench that you two always hung out on. She straddles you and you immediately feel calm. She whispers comforting words and you can’t help but hug her. You realize your actions while in daze and you can’t help but cry. You whisper your apologies over and over but Wanda just keep shushing you and rubbing your back.

You groan as the school bell rings. You went to the nurse and got your wrists bandaged up. You’ve been out of it and only went to classes like a drone.

“You okay?” You nod at Angel and get your things into your bag. It’s a good thing that your hand just wrote notes automatically since you knew that nothing got inside your head. “Let’s start tomorrow, okay? Rest up.”

“Thanks.” You mumble as you get out of your last class. You realize that two people were waiting for you and Angel.

“Hey, babe.” Angel greets and Natasha smiles as they hold hands. They kiss and Angel turns to you. “Bye, Y/N, Wanda.”

“Bye.” You both say and wave at them as they leave. You sigh as you face her.

“Wanda. I’m really sorr-“ She hugs you and you hug her back.

“Don’t be. Just.” She pulls away and flicks your forehead. “Tell me next time.”

“About?”

“The letter and the thoughts.” You nod and sigh. You both walk outside.

“It’s just.” You sigh as you run a hand along your hair. “My thoughts got out of hand and there was just no one else in the house.” You clench your fists. “They spiraled before I noticed.” Wanda holds your hand and you calm down.

“That’s why tell me. I’ll run to you if you ever have them.”

“Why?” She smiles and pulls you closer to her.

“Because I meant what I said. I don’t think I could live without you.” You kiss her and she kisses you back.

“Aren’t we moving too fast? We just met a month ago.” She chuckles and pulls away.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.” She intertwines her hand to yours. “This feels right. You feel right.” You smile at her words.

“I love you.” Wanda’s heart beat faster and you smirk as she blushes. “I love how your hand fits with mine. How your scent calms me down. How kissing you feels like I’m on cloud nine.”

“Sweet talker.” She kisses you.

“No. Just being honest.”

You go to school next day with your bandaged wrists exposed and you feel everyone stare at them. You go to Wanda’s locker.

“Hey.” She smiles at you and closes her locker. She takes your hand and you kiss her.

“You’re not covering them.” You hum as you both go to your locker.

“Mom and Ma got angry which is why I’m going to Therapy later. Sorry I can’t meet with you.” She shakes her head as you take your books.

“Your emotional health takes priority.” You pout as you close your locker.

“But you’re my cure.” She pushes you away and you chuckle.

“Shut up.” She mumbles as you take her hand.

“Y/N? No jacket?” Angel asks as she, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Pietro approach you two.

“Nope.” You show them your wrist and shrugs. “Why bother?” Angel smiles. “By the way, can we start on Thursday for the project? I have a session today and a date tomorrow.”

“Oh? So it’s official now? You two are dating?”

“Oh. They are if they’re not then I’m going to beat up Y/N.” You chuckle as Wanda rolls her eyes.

“You’re only older by twelve minutes, Pietro, don’t push it.”

“Older is older, Wanda.” You laugh as you all get to class.

Lunch comes and Wanda picks you up from your classroom. You both go to the cafeteria.

“Finally eating like normal people?” Angel asks as you and Wanda sit on their table.

“We do eat.”

“Sandwiches and juice. The cafeteria offers much more.” You shrug as you eat.

“Convenient is convenient.” Angel shakes her head at you.

“Y/LN.” Tony calls out and you look at him.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry for being sexist assholes.” You stop and so does everyone else around you. They wait with bated breath. “We judged before we even knew you.” You smile at him and before you could even reply, Natasha says something first.

“Sorry for getting jealous. I don’t like it when anyone else asks for Angel’s number.” You chuckle and nod.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Tony holds out his hand and you accept it.

“Y/N!” Alsie calls out from her car and you turn to Wanda.

“That’s my ride. See you tomorrow?” She nods and you kiss her.

“I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too.”

“So what do you think was the cause?”

“Two phrases. It was ‘always your fault’… and-“ You mumble the last part and your therapist, Dr. Martin lean towards you.

“Y/N. Speak up, I’m af-“ You cut her off.

“Wanda is just pretending.”

“And you believed it?” You laugh.

“Yes. That’s why I was in a daze. I believed every line and every word.”

“Why is that?” You sigh.

“I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Everything that was happening.” You take a deep breath. “People were being nice to me. My sisters suddenly visited. My mom and ma started getting interested in my life… I guess everything was changing and I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Or rather you were afraid of it.”

“Yes.”

“I know changes are a scary thing but they are inevitable. You have all these happenings, what do you think is the root of them?”

“Wanda.”

“Who?”

“Well, she’s-“ You take a deep breath. “I think I’m falling for her.”

“Think?” You shake your head.

“I already am.” Linda smiles and you sigh. “I just- I think it’s too fast. Everything that’s happening.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m just a Beta! I don’t deserve-“

“And that’s why you’re so afraid. You’re second gender.” You nod.

“It’s the reason why I got bullied. Why teachers are ignoring me. Why people avoid me.”

“Why you also got disconnected with your own family.”

“Yes. I believed that I deserved everything because of something that I cannot control.”

“It’s good that you do remember our past sessions.” You chuckle.

“Things are changing and I have to accept them for what they are.”

“Yes. And you’re second gender?”

“Is something I did not choose nor should be ashamed of.”

“How’d it go?” Alsie asks as you stretch your body after leaving Dr. Martin’s office.

“Good.” Alsie nods then stands.

“Where’s the letter?”

“Why? What do you need it for?”

“Things.”

“You’re going to find who wrote it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You comply and give her the letter.

“Tell me who it is before you destroy their life, will you?”

“Why?”

“I might want to get in a punch or two.” Alsie grins and nods. You both get out and go home.

You go to school the next day and stretch as you walk down the hallways. You see Wanda and smile as you approach her.

“Hey, gorgeous, good morning.” “Morning.” She yawns and you take her hand.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just tired.” Pietro chuckles as he approaches you two. “Mom made her clean our garage all night.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why?”

“She was caught sneaking out.”

“For what?”

“You. I wanted to see you.” You grin and kiss her.

“You could’ve just video call me.” She pouts.

“That’s not the same.” You laugh.

“I guess not.”

You hum as you sit on the bench. You just finished your date with Wanda and you were both on a stroll around the park. Wanda straddles you. You hug her and she hums.

“Don’t you have curfew today?” She frowns at you.

“Do you want me to leave?” You shake your head.

“Of course not, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be a bad influence.” You kiss her. “When I meet your parents, I want them to know my intentions with you.”

“What intentions?” You hum.

“That’s for them to know and for you to find out.” She pouts and you chuckle.

You yawn as you and Angel hover your laptop. You were at the cafeteria with the Avengers. You’ve brought your laptop for the day so you two could start the project. Both Wanda and Natasha are fuming with your and Angel’s closeness but you just ignore them. This project costs about quarter of your grade in an AP class. Both you and Angel love them. Really. But priorities need to be put first.

“You two are serious about that project, huh?”

“Quarter of overall grade.” “AP Class.” You both answer and Natasha sighs. Wanda holds your hand and you look at her.

“What’s up?” She shakes her head and you give her a small smile.

“Just wanted to.” You chuckle and kiss her hand. You spend the whole lunch holding her hand whilst paying attention to Angel and making plans for the project. “Y/N.” She calls out and you look at her. She was holding up your meal’s spoon with food on it. “You need to eat.” You sigh and nod. You accept the food and hum. She smiles as you finish it. You kiss her cheek and get back to Angel. She eats her own food as she makes random patterns on your palm.

You groan as you and Angel spend your last class, just researching for the project.

“Miss Wanda that much?” You glare at her and she snickers.

“Shut up.” You grumble and focus on your research.

“That was good.” You hum as you pack up your things and laptop.

“We’re already halfway done.” You both get out and both Natasha and Wanda were waiting for you two. And you flinch as Natasha approaches you.

“Y/LN. Here.” She gives you a book and you look at it.

“Wha-“

“An apology for the last time. I got jealous and was immature. I should’ve trusted you and Angel more.” You sigh.

“You should.” You cross your arms. “She’s your soulmate, woman.” She groans.

“I know. My instinct just told me that you were a threat.”

“Why? I’m only a Beta.” Wanda hits you softly and you smile at her. “Besides.” You take Wanda’s hand and kiss it. “I only have eyes for her.”

“Okay. We get it.” Angel gets Natasha’s hand. “You two are running for the cutest couple.”

“I’m pretty sure you two won that last year.”

“Well now, we have serious competition.” Angel smiles and she holds up her hand. You slap it with yours. You both laugh. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you too, Gel!” She and Natasha waves at you and Wanda before leaving. Wanda holds in her laughter and you turn to her.

“Gel?” You scoff at her as you two walk together.

“It’s a nickname!”

“What’s that?” You hum and raise an eyebrow at Alsie. It was already Saturday before you knew it and you had a date with Wanda tomorrow since she was busy today. “New book? That’s not your usual genre.”

“You mean her usual documentary, mystery or thriller?” You glare at Valerie who smirks. You sigh as you keep reading.

“Someone gave it to me.” Your two sisters look at each other and they both hum.

“Wanda?” You shake your head and they get taken aback. You had more friends?

“Then who?”

“Romanoff.”

“Natasha? You’re friends with Natasha Romanoff.” You nod and they gasp. You close your book and glare at them.

“WHAT?” They get up in front of your face and you shield yourself with the book. They barrage you with questions and your eye kept twitching as you get more annoyed. The hell is wrong with them? “Stop!” They both back off as you glare at them. “What’s with you two?”

“You know her parents?” You raise an eyebrow as you nod.

“They just switched to our firm last week.” Oh.

“The emergency?” They nod. Alsie gets up and Valerie nods at her.

“They were the reason why we were all needed there.”

“Even Ma?”

“Ma was there to calm the employees down.”

“Ah.” Alsie comes back and holds out a brown folder to you. It says Romanoff Airlines on the side and you take it. “This is?”

“Open it and read it.” You nod and Alsie turns on the TV.

Romanoff Airlines. Opened in 1956 and has been one of the Pioneer Airlines in both Europe and America. This is because of their partnership with Stark Industries who provide the latest technology to Air Transportation through them.

Current Owners: Melina Vostokoff and Alexei Shostakov. Both are Russians and ex-spouses. Although they are divorced, they still live together with their two children.

Heirs: Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova. Both are adopted and have decided to take their biological parents’ surnames but are still living in America and with their adoptive parents.

Natasha Romanoff. Currently attending high school. Can speak many languages (Exact number was not extracted), is friends with Tony Stark, Vision Stark and many others. Is a helper of martial arts clubs. Martial Arts Expert. Is a gifted student, passing all of her classes with flying colors. Decided not to take any AP Classes because it was ‘time consuming’.

Yelena Belova. Currently attending middle school. Can speak many languages. Martial Arts Expert. Gymnast. Gold Medalist.

You read everything before closing it.

“You okay?”

“Why switch to our firm?”

“Apparently because their previous firm was shady and we were recommended by Natasha.”

“Did you ask her why?”

“Yep. She just said that we know why.” Their words click inside your head and you look shocked.

“Me?”

“Most likely.”

“Huh.” You give the folder back to Alsie and hum.

“You good?”

“Yep.” You say as you open your book and continue reading.

A/N:

Because Angst makes me feel things.

I don't think I would ever write a series without an ounce of angst.

Thank you for Reading!

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader #Omegaverse #Omegaverse fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

This Side of Normal Ch. 6

AO3

Jason walks into the hospital room, heart breaking at the sight. Adrien, a huge bandage covering what was left of his arm and part of his shoulder. And next to him… This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be there to make sure the kids didn’t get hurt. Instead, Ladybug- no, Marinette, he reminded himself. She had told him her name through sobs as he held her on the roof after they gave their statements to the police. Marinette blamed herself. He could see it in everything she did, the way she responded to people, her body language around Adrien and Jason. He knew she blamed herself. But she shouldn’t. She wasn’t the one who had been trained to fight villains like that. Villains willing to kill kids to get ahead. But Jason was trained. He was supposed to be prepared and know what to do. But now, Adrien would have to relearn how to do everything with just one arm. Sure, he could get a prosthetic, but that wouldn’t be for several weeks. And even if he chooses to get a prosthetic, he’d have to relearn everything. Again. And it was all because Jason couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save anyone. Jason turns to leave, not ready to talk to the boy who lost an arm because Jason wasn’t fast enough.

“Jay?” A soft voice from the bed calls, making Jason freeze. Whirling around, he rushes over to the bed, immediately looking the boy over to see if he’s okay.

“Hey kiddo, how ya feeling? Are you- I’m so sorry.” Jason rambles, falling onto the spare chair next to Adrien’s bed. A chair that should’ve held a parent. If Gabriel wasn’t a piece of shit supervillain who cut off his own son’s arm and kept his wife’s corpse in a hidden basement. Yeah, that investigation must’ve sucked.

“It’s weird.” He says, and Jason frowns at the tears filling the boy’s eyes. “My arm hurts, Jay. Really bad. But every time I try to hold it, or move it to a position that doesn’t hurt- it’s not there.”

“Oh kid.” Jason clamps his mouth shut, determined to not let the kid hear his voice cracks, determined not to let the kid see him cry. What did he have to cry about? He’s the one that wasn’t good enough to protect these kids. Jason leans forward and gently wraps his arms around Adrien, letting the boy sob into his shoulder. Holding onto a sobbing Adrien, Jason’s able to see Marinette wake up and instantly leap into a fighting position. When she notices him, she relaxes slightly, until she sees the crying boy. Then her face morphs into pain and she backs up away from the bed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Mari?” Adrien says, pulling away from Jason and sniffling.

“I’m so sorry Adrien. It’s, it’s all my fault.” She says, still keeping her distance. Jason sighs and stands, moving across the room in two large strides and wrapping her into a hug. She stiffens for a moment before basically collapsing in his arms. Jason just holds her and lets her cry, just as he let her on the roof two nights ago. After years of not being able to feel anything other than happy, Jason would support these kids and encourage them to feel. Even if it hurt. They deserved to feel.

---

Sitting and talking to Adrien about anything and everything after school had become a daily occurrence for Marinette. Jason walking her from school to the hospital had also become a daily occurrence. So walking by herself was weird. Doable, because she was Ladybug and could walk across Paris alone, but still weird. Especially since Jason was so insistent on her being more careful now that Hawkmoth- Gabriel- was behind bars. Jay was convinced that that meant that the regular, run of the mill bad guys would come back out of the woodwork now that they didn’t have to deal with possible akumas. Regardless, that hadn’t happened yet and she could easily walk by herself. It was still weird though. Walking into the hospital, Marinette frowns at Jason who was pacing and rapidly arguing with someone on the phone in English. Quickly reminding herself that, no he wouldn’t be akumatized, and yes, he was allowed to have negative feelings, she moves so that she’s in his line of sight. Making eye contact with him, she raises an eyebrow as a silent question. He frowns, but doesn’t do anything else except nod towards Adrien’s room. Rolling her eyes in annoyance at his avoidance, Marinette lets herself into Adrien’s room, smiling softly at her friend. The first two days after the battle, she could barely look at him. She blamed herself completely and didn’t feel like she was worthy of being his friend anymore. Now, almost a week after the battle, she still blamed herself. But it was easier to look at him, easier to talk to him.

“Hey kitty.” She says, walking over and sitting in the chair on the left side of his bed.

“Hey bug. Jay still on the phone?” He asks, and that’s when she notices the tell-tale signs of worry on his face.

“Yeah...how long has he been on the phone?” She asks, frowning at his wince.

“Well, he tried to ignore the person the first three times they called. And then he finally answered, said ‘leave me alone’ and hung up. And then they called again, and that’s when the yelling and arguing started and he left the room. That was…” He trails off, looking towards the clock on the wall. “Almost two hours ago.” “Two hours? On the phone? You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you? I mean, I know he has a life back where he lives, and I’m sure his boss is probably getting frustrated with him. But-” Marinette stops herself, not wanting to say something selfish. She knew that Jason had a life outside of Paris. But he was the only grown up to care that Ladybug and Chat Noir were just kids, that they needed help. He was the one to make sure they weren’t spending too much time being heroes and not enough time sleeping and doing homework. He was their big brother, and she wasn’t ready to say bye yet. Even if they could still call him. It wasn’t the same.

---

Jason Todd was livid, and for the millionth time that week, thankful that Gabriel Agreste was rotting in a prison cell instead of manipulating people who were having a bad day. Cause this was not a good day.

“B, I’m not sure what you want from me.” He finally huffs out, glancing towards Adrien’s shut door.

“I just want to know why you haven’t returned. Dick informed me of the flooding your first day, and how things seemed to magically fix themselves. You told us that everything was taken care of, and then you stopped answering any questions about the situation. Seeing as there is apparently no immediate danger to anyone there, I think it’s time you returned home. You have responsibilities here, Jason. Your family is here.” Bruce says simply, and Jason has to bite his tongue from arguing. How was he supposed to tell Bruce about these kids who needed support that they weren’t getting anywhere else. That there were two young superheroes in Paris who needed someone to understand what they were going through, since they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) tell anyone else? Bruce would have adoption papers written up in minutes, and taking the two from their city didn’t seem right. Plus he would never let Bruce adopt them, the kids had enough emotional baggage to deal with without being a Wayne.

“I just haven’t, Bruce. I’m a grown man. I-” “You have responsibilities, Jason. I let you take this vacation because I could see you needed it. But now we need you. I- your brothers miss you.” Bruce says, and Jason rolls his eyes at the man’s inability to be emotional. He would’ve done great in Hawkmoth’s Paris.

“Okay, I’ll start looking for a ticket. I should be home in two or three weeks-”

“I’ve already ordered a ticket for you. Your flight leaves Paris at noon tomorrow. See you then.” Bruce says, hanging up before Jason has the chance to argue more. Not that he had the energy after going back and forth between arguing with Dick and Bruce for two goddamned hours. Resisting the urge to throw his phone against the wall, Jason takes a couple deep breaths to ground himself. No need to upset Mari and Adrien and if he goes in there pissed off, they’re gonna get upset. Shaking his head to try and clear it, Jason throws open Adrien’s door, grinning at the two, sitting side by side on Adrien’s bed.

“Pixie Pop, you’re gonna piss off the nurse if she sees you up there again.” He says, walking over to his usual chair.

“You’re upset.” She says, instead of arguing and reminding him that she can take anything the nurses can dish out (they’d had the exact conversation yesterday….and the day before.) Jason blinks, acting confused.

“Don’t even try and act like you’re not Jay. Mari’s scary good at reading people.” Adrien says with a frown. Jason huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, I’m pissed.” He admits, slumping back in his chair and crossing his arms. Marinette turns to Adrien and whispers something to him, Adrien nodding before she turns back to look at him.

“You’re gonna need our phone numbers.” She says, and Jason frowns in actual confusion this time.

“Gonna need a little more than that, Pix.” He says.

“Well, we knew that you’re not from here. And that eventually you’d have to go back. I mean, I’m sure your boss wasn’t planning on you taking a vacation quite this long. But-” Marinette pauses and lets out a shaky breath. “But neither of us want to lose you. You care about both sides of us, and you’re the only one. You’re our big brother, Jay, but we both know that you have another life somewhere else. And I’m sure those people miss you too. I mean, you’re kinda cool or whatever.” Marinette teases, but he can tell behind the smirk that she’s close to tears. Jason sighs and stands, bringing both of them into a big hug.

“I don’t wanna leave, ya know.” He mumbles, frowning when he feels his shirt getting wet from tears.

“I know. But you have to. And that’s okay. It’s not goodbye forever.” Marinette says, her voice breaking as she holds onto him tighter.

“Expect a lot of calls and face times. Especially once I get my arm. I have so many jokes to make, you’re gonna be sick of it.” Adrien says, and despite the joke, Jason can tell the boy is crying too. Jason squeezes a little tighter, accepting the fact that he’d be leaving. And that he wasn’t sure when he’d see the two again.

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #platonic maribat adrienette #maribat platonic adrienette #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #This Side of Normal #maribat big brother Jason Todd #maribat bruce wayne #maribat fic

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Face Your Dreams

Almost forgot to post this here as well! @anthropwashere

Phic Phight 2021

Prompt from Anthrop: Any flavor of the Reverse AUs that strike your fancy. Who gets the ghost powers? Who becomes the ghost hunter? Who gets ghost magick'd into the villain of the week?

Danny’s phone was dead. Which was just typical, really. His parents were brilliant, wealthy inventors that played with the fabric of reality on a daily basis and had managed to turn, not one, but two of Danny’s best friends into half ghosts, but they couldn’t be bothered to get Danny a phone that was actually reliable. Although they hadn’t intended to do the half ghost thing and didn’t know about it.

Probably.

Maybe.

(Honestly, Danny didn’t know. His parents were weird. And Danny suspected they were keeping secrets.)

Back on topic. Phone. Not working. Which was a problem because Danny was something like ninety-percent sure a ghost had been following him for the last block or so and he couldn’t call for help.

Correction, he could call for help all he wanted, he just wouldn’t get any that would be any good against a ghost. If he got any at all. It was the middle of the night.

He should have taken up Sam’s offer of a flight home. Or Tucker’s. But, no, he had to be sulky about how both of them were developing yet more really, incredibly cool powers and Danny was still just…

Himself.

Faceless, boring Fenton. Only notable for the number of bullies he attracted and the people he was related to. No special skillset, no dreams he had any hope of achieving, no triumphs. Nothing to contribute. Not in and of himself. Only useful to enemies that wanted a hostage.

He was about to be murdered by a ghost and he was still sulking. God, he was pathetic.

(Not all ghosts were evil – Sam and Tucker’s stories had taught him that much, on an intellectual basis. Was it too much to hope that he could reach home without the ghost attacking? Too much to hope that it was just watching?)

White noise tugged at Danny’s ears. It reminded him of the sleep CD Jazz played when Mom and Dad were being loud.

… and, also, oddly, of a video he’d once watched about what stars might sound like, based on how they vibrated.

Danny shuddered, his heartbeat redoubling as he picked up speed, reaching a run. If he could get home, he could turn on the ghost shield and call Sam and Tucker from his home phone. They’d be annoyed that he was bothering about a ghost so long after a patrol, but he was freaked out enough to not really care about their teasing.

(He’d been freaked out enough for the past two blocks.)

His breath began to catch in his lungs, his side burning. He splashed through a puddle, dark, oily liquid sticking to his right sneaker and pant leg. It glittered in the light of the waning crescent moon.

Wait –

It hadn’t rained for weeks.

He slipped and fell, skinning hands, knees, and chin on the sidewalk. Something wet, sticky, and smooth as silk spread over the pavement beneath him. It bubbled like a tar pit, and captive stars shone from within.

Danny tried to push himself up, but the liquid held on to him, pulled him back down.

He was sinking.

He flailed for the sidewalk, reaching, trying to stay afloat. It didn’t work. His elbows were below the level of the sidewalk, and inky, glittery black dripped from his front. It seemed to be eating through his clothes.

Forget useful help. He’d take any help. He screamed.

And he fell.

“You have such lovely dreams,” said the masked man, his horns curling into galaxies. “Impossible dreams.”

Danny couldn’t breathe. He was in freefall. A vacuum. No ground in sight, only the cold, heartless stars, perfect in their beauty.

(And his eyes. Oh, god, was this really a ghost?)

It was his dream, to be an astronaut. With this little twist, it became a nightmare, and yet—

Yet.

“You feel faceless,” continued the masked man. “But there’s freedom in that, is there not?”

Danny shouldn’t be able to hear him. There shouldn’t be any sound in space, and there wasn’t. Not except for his voice.

“Freedom,” said the man, “to follow your wildest dreams, unshackled from responsibility, from reality, from reasonability. No longer dependent on those that call themselves your friends, who claim to be your family, who walk over your dreams for the sake of theirs.”

Suddenly, Danny hit the sidewalk, and he could breathe again. Something thick dripped from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. He pushed himself to his hands and knees. His clothing was gone. His limbs were painted with the night sky in all its glory. He froze, staring.

From Danny’s shadow, the masked man rose, towering over Danny until he felt like little more than a shadow. “Don’t you want to have the chance to see your dreams come true, child?”

Danny blinked. It was hard to force his eyes back open. They seemed to want to stick closed.

“Who are you?” Danny asked, words garbled by the dripping stars trying to force their way past his lips.

“I am Nocturne,” the ghost said, leaning closer.

“You’re like,” Danny choked, “like Desiree. I don’t want—”

Nocturne scoffed. “Desiree. A creature of wishes, of momentary things. I do not care for what you wish for. What matters is that you dream.”

There was something in Nocturne’s hand, round and white and moonlike. It looked small, held between two of his fingers, but it had to be the size of Danny’s face.

“Don’t you dream of flying?” purred Nocturne. “Of being among the stars? Don’t you dream of a peaceful world, where your friends are safe, and the accident never happened? Where you’re a friend, not a weapon supply, a sidekick, or a damsel in distress?”

Danny had been thinking something so close just minutes ago and he couldn’t—

“There, there, my child. No need to cry.” He brought the round thing closer.

Danny could see, now, that it was a mask. Just his size.

“Close your eyes,” said Nocturne, gently, cupping Danny’s trembling shoulders with his other hand. “Close your eyes and dream. Let your face go, for a little while.”

(Danny did as he was told.)

“Hi, Sam,” said Mrs. Fenton, her voice crackling slightly through the phone speaker. “Have you seen Danny today?”

“I haven’t seen him since last n—Since yesterday,” said Sam, correcting herself halfway though. Mrs. Fenton didn’t know about their nightly escapades, and for good reason. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Maddie. “He just… I haven’t seen him either. He usually says goodbye before he leaves.”

He didn’t, but Maddie didn’t need to know that.

“Have you checked with Tucker yet? Sometimes they hang out without me. Guy things.” This… was also not entirely true. Danny and Tucker hadn’t had a ‘guy thing’ for ages. They’d been smoothly replaced with ‘ghost things’ like most everything else in their lives.

Sam… might have felt a little bad about that. All of their normal friend activities being replaced by ghost things, that is. Often ghost things that Danny couldn’t really participate in, because Danny couldn’t fly or shoot lasers from his hands.

He did do a good job of setting up obstacle courses and covering for her and Tucker’s—

Wait, no, not the point.

“He hasn’t seen him, either. Jazz doesn’t know where he is. I don’t—” She broke off, sighing. “Call me if you see him. Or tell him to call me.”

“I will,” said Sam, opening the window and preparing to take off.

“Thank you,” said Maddie. She hung up.

Sam went ghost with a burst of green fire. She floated up and out of the window, fading out of visibility as she dialed Tucker’s number.

“Starboy’s missing,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m already searching for him,” said Tucker, the microphone crackling with static but otherwise clear. Tucker’s powers both did and didn’t mesh well with technology.

“Any luck?”

“No,” said Tucker. “This is one of those times when I wish he did have friends other than us. Then we could ask them about where he is.”

“Do you think he’s been taken by a ghost?” asked Sam.

“I mean, maybe? There was that whole thing with Desiree…”

“And the second thing with Desiree,” added Sam.

“And Skulker.”

“And the second thing with Skulker.”

“And Spectra.”

“And the second thing with Spectra.”

“Not to mention Vlad.”

“What a freak,” said Sam.

“Are you picking up a pattern here?”

“Yeah, maybe. Who’s only kidnapped Danny once?”

“I’m not sure… Maybe it’s a new guy? We do get new guys now and again.”

Sam sighed. “Never mind that,” she said. “Where have you looked so far?”

“Not too many places. Do you want to meet up, or…?”

“No, we’ll have more luck going separately. I’ll check in with you in a bit.”

A whole day passed without any sign of Danny. They did, however, find a lot of ghosts with stitched-shut eyes, which they decided was probably related and also incredibly creepy.

By that time, the police got involved. Danny was officially a missing person.

But they were distracted. Didn’t have the manpower to search for just one missing person.

Why?

The sudden surge in coma patients.

“I don’t get it,” said Tucker. “Is that more of a, you know,” he lowered his voice, “doctor thing? Like, if it’s a bunch of people, don’t you think it’s a disease or something?”

“The police think that someone poisoned ‘em,” said Sam.

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think I know that?”

“Dude. You have to stop eavesdropping on the police. I’m, like, ninety percent sure that’s illegal.”

“Not for ghosts, it isn’t.”

“Okay, I’m one hundred percent sure it is. You’ve read the anti-ecto acts, haven’t you? I’m not the only one who did that, right?”

“It was, like, fifty pages thick. And stupid. The only reason I’d read it would be if I wanted to break the laws more efficiently.”

“Seriously?”

An alien world spread out below Danny, a place to explore to his heart’s content, the sky twinkling above him. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there, in the nameless, infinite way you knew things when you were dreaming.

He was an astronaut. An adventurer. An explorer.

He was doing everything he had ever dreamed of.

The only thing missing were the people. His friends. His family.

But… He could bring them here. He knew that, too, in the same way.

He just had to reach out and touch them. Feel them. Take them.

(A bit of black and starlight in their eyes, a touch of the gift given to him.)

(Nocturne whispered in his ears. A song only for him.)

They found the ghost responsible for the comas. And maybe they should have realized a ghost was causing them, but Danny was the one who usually put the pieces together, and he wasn’t there. Which was the problem.

(What Sam wouldn’t give for some kind of reliable ghost-detecting power. Or even technology.)

(No, the Fenton Finder didn’t count.)

It was small, human proportions, human skin tone, where it wasn’t covered with some kind of ghostly paint that mimicked the night sky. Its hair was colored the same way, and a blank mask covered its face. Seemed to be directing the green stitched-eye ghosts somehow, despite not saying a word. So. All in all, typical ghost, if somewhat more annoying due to his lack of witty banter.

Then he shrugged off the thermos beam like it was nothing. Almost like he was human.

Then Tucker froze.

The ghost was carried away from the fight by its minions, faster than Sam or Tucker could go.

“Tucker! What was that?”

“Birthmark,” gasped Tucker.

“What?” asked Sam.

“That was Danny’s birthmark.”

“Oh my god,” said Sam. “Did he really get himself transformed into a ghost again?”

“This seems different than Desiree,” said Tucker. “I don’t… Were we really fighting him?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Let’s go get the Ghost Catcher.”

The Ghost Catcher was not in evidence in the Fenton basement.

“What now?” asked Tucker.

“Beat it out of him?” suggested Sam.

“That is a terrible plan. No, I can’t even call it a plan. It’s just bad.”

“Do you have anything better?”

(Tucker did not have anything better.)

(And Danny still couldn’t find his friends, to show them this dream come true.)

When about one in ten people in Amity Park was in a coma, things managed to get even worse. The people who were asleep began to sleepwalk. And sleep attack people.

Sam and Tucker were used to fighting ghosts. Not humans. They didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Especially Danny who was especially vicious. And also seemed to be targeting them.

Danny was so close. So close he could almost touch them. He could feel them, electricity and green things and dreams of power and justice. He could feel them, feel them, feel them, and he was so, so close to inviting them into the dream and he needed it, needed them. Wanted them.

His dream, the dream, his dream, it just wouldn’t be complete without them at his side, wouldn’t be right.

He reached for them, reached for Sam, brushed her sleeve and—

A meteor shower threw them apart.

Tucker dragged Sam away from Danny’s hand and the sleep-inducing liquid it was coated in.

“We have to go,” he gasped, looking out at the veritable horde of ghosts and sleepwalking humans.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Yeah, we have to – Have to regroup.”

They retreated to the Ghost Zone, and, predictably, were separated.

The ghost’s name was Undergrowth, and he was interested in Sam. Interested enough to offer to teach her.

His power was the same as hers. Nature. Plants.

His rage against humans was… much greater. Overwhelming. Too much, too far, to extreme. She was glad he didn’t see her as human, didn’t seem to know that she wanted to protect humans.

(That she wanted to save Danny.)

Tucker already knew Technus. Had met him, fought him, beat him. More than once, even.

So, he had to ask why Technus was suddenly helping him.

The ghost fixed Tucker with a look that managed to be both incredulous and flat.

“Ghost child,” warbled Technus, “I, Technus, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, know what being electrocuted feels like! By the very power we both now wield!”

“Oh,” said Tucker. “Yeah, that makes sense. You were saying?”

Sam and Tucker stood in front of the portal, side by side.

“Ready to be a wake-up call?” asked Tucker.

“You’d better believe it,” said Sam.

Danny was caught, trapped in Sam’s vines.

“This isn’t working,” said Tucker, lightly shocking Danny once again. The ectoblast didn’t help, either. “Usually, this’d zap the ghost out of him, but…”

“Maybe we could try to overshadow him?” asked Sam, dubiously.

“Ugh,” said Tucker. “My least favorite power.”

“It could be the only way to find the ghost actually responsible.”

“Let’s do this.”

Danny was thrilled! He’d finally found his friends. True, he couldn’t move, but—

The stars shuddered. Shifted. Blinked.

Nocturne was angry.

Sam was knocked out of the sky at full speed, making a crater in the dark ground. People were gathered nearby. Amity Park people.

This couldn’t just be the inside of Danny’s mind (overshadowing had never worked this way before, but, well, it wasn’t like they experimented with it a whole lot), it had to be some kind of shared dream. A special power of the ghost, perhaps?

Sam fired up her powers, reaching for the nearby plants. They didn’t respond.

Crud.

This was a dream. They just looked like plants.

Then Tucker lit up the sky like a dying star, electrocuting everyone in range.

Danny woke up, throwing Sam and Tucker out of his body, something metallic clanging against sidewalk pavement. Out of his mind, out of his dream. Out of that dream, the one Nocturne had made for him.

Oh, god. He’d just spent the last week—Had it been a week, or longer? —out of his mind, in that dream, reality at one remove, if that. He’d been blind and—

He reached up to his face, to that mask and he pulled. It stuck. He pulled harder, and felt the goo sticking it on give, the mask coming away while dripping thick strands of ooze. He gasped. And it felt like the first breath he’d taken in—

How long had it been?

He opened his eyes just in time to see Nocturne rise out of his shadow.

Both Sam and Tucker had more of an advantage out here in the real world, without having to worry about hurting people. Well, without having to worry about hurting people more than usual. Wrecking buildings and missing with ectoblasts were still concerns.

“Draw him towards the park?” called Tucker, once they got close enough to confer with each other.

“You grab Danny?”

“I don’t—” started Tucker. He dodged a swipe from the large, starry ghost. “He might be safer, if—”

A column of blue light strobed into the sky, and Nocturne was pulled into the Fenton Thermos. The Fenton Thermos held by Danny Fenton. He coughed, black liquid dripping down his chin.

“Hey,” said Danny. “Thanks.”

“I’ve got to stop losing that thing,” groaned Tucker.

“I think the more important thing here is getting Danny some clothes,” said Sam, shielding her eyes.

“Yes, please,” said Danny.

“Glad to have you back, man,” said Danny, landing next to Danny and transforming. “Honestly, without you, we kind of suck at the whole investigation angle.”

“What?” asked Danny, taking the sweater Tucker offered him.

“We missed you,” clarified Sam. “A lot. We kind of… don’t do to well at anything about ghost fighting. Or life.”

“Yeah, our social life sucked even more than usual.”

“Oh,” said Danny, wrapping the sweater around his waist. “That’s cool.” He spit some of the black liquid out onto the sidewalk. “I need a shower.”

“Yep. Hugs are going to be deferred until then.”

“I’m okay with that,” said Danny. “I kind of… don’t want to be touched, for a while.”

“Ah,” said Tucker. “Well. I’m depressed again.”

“Just. Until the shower,” said Danny.

Sam reached out as if to pat Danny on the shoulder, then drew back. “Do you want a flight back home? Or to, uh, Tucker’s house? To shower. And get some clothes.”

“How is that different from a hug? You’ll still have to carry me.”

“It just is,” said Sam.

“It really is,” said Tucker.

There was a long pause.

“I lied, I want a hug so bad,” said Danny.

His friends practically flung themselves at him.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #nocturne #reverse trio #void!danny

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: Alex has a really bad day. His anxiety playing up and just things generally going wrong. It’s the end of the day Willie and Alex are having a sleepover and are in bed. Alex breaks down and Willie comforts him.

Okay, I love this so much, thank you for sending it! I really hope I did it justice, I always enjoy writing Alex’s anxiety and supportive Willie. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to writing it, life got in the way. Thank you for the request, anon!

TW: anxiety, homophobia

All the Love in the World

From the moment he woke up, Alex knew that it wasn’t going to be a good day. He knew it because he could barely find the strength to open his eyes and when he eventually managed it he wanted nothing more than to close them again, curl in on himself and stay there in bed unmoving for the rest of the day. He knew it because he was exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days, his mind racing to catch up with his body but not quite making it. He knew it because he felt sick to the stomach and his head was buzzing with indescribable tension and nerves.

Alex had days like this sometimes. Days that just didn’t feel worth it. Why should he get out of bed and get on with his day if his head was spinning, his eyes watering, his breathing hitched, his hands shaking? It was a day where his anxiety was needlessly heightened, overpowering from the moment he woke up, a dull ache in the pit of his stomach reminding him to worry. Reminding him that anything and everything had the potential to go wrong. Reminding him that it would feel like his fault.

On days like this, Alex just wanted to stay in bed. He hardly felt like he could move, let alone carry on with his day like there was nothing wrong, suffer through talking to people and put on a brave face. He wanted desperately to pull the bedcovers up over his head and lie there in the dark with nothing but his own company, but he knew he couldn’t. If he tried, his parents would come upstairs and force him out of bed anyway. They’d make him go to school, ignore all the warning signs, tell him to get on with it.

So, with more effort than it should have been, Alex dragged himself from the bed, rubbed his tired eyes, and made himself get on with it.

He opened up his chest of drawers to find something to wear but was quickly reminded that he’d forgotten to do his laundry. He cursed himself, remembering that his mother had told him to bring his clothes down the night before and he hadn’t done it. His alarm clock told him that he definitely didn’t have enough time to put on a wash – he’d have to wear clothes that hadn’t been washed.

Reluctantly, he fished yesterday’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his wash-basket. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, he knew that; he’d only worn each thing once, they weren’t stained or dirty and they didn’t smell bad. He knew that nobody would even bat an eyelid. But the feeling of putting on the slightly crinkled clothes, cold against his skin, made him cringe. It was like he could feel the dirt against his skin, though he knew there wouldn’t be any. There was something painfully uncomfortable about it but he didn’t have a choice.

Feeling itchy all over, an uncomfortable humming sensation spreading through every inch of his body, he opened his bedroom door and he made himself get on with it.

Breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen, as where the rest of his family. Alex sat down and poured himself a bowl of cereal, his father skimming a newspaper to his right, his mother frying something on the hob, and his little sister Lily wearing more of her cereal than eating it.

“Morning, Alex,” his father said, peering at Alex over the top of his glasses. “You’re up late. What took you so long?”

“Don’t know,” Alex mumbled with a shrug. He kept his eyes on his food, not wanting to engage. If he bothered trying to talk to his parents today he knew it wouldn’t end well.

“What was that?” his father pressed, slapping his hand where it rested against the table. Alex winced and withdrew it into his lap. “Speak up.”

“I just woke up late,” Alex said. He hoped it would be enough to shut his father up, but he knew that was wishful thinking for a day like today.

“Don’t you take that tone with your father,” his mother scolded, not bothering to look at him as she did so. “It’s not his fault that you can’t pull yourself together in the morning. That’s on you, Alex.”

Just like everything else, he thought to himself. It wasn’t a surprise that his parents were being so hard on him – that was pretty much routine by now – and on a normal day he could cope with it. But today didn’t feel like a normal day. Today felt like he could feel everything too much and was completely numb at the same time, like he had a million thoughts whirring through his head but his mind was totally empty, like he was going to cry but didn’t have enough of himself present to make any tears flow. So he just ignored it all because what else could he do?

“You should start running in the mornings, Alex,” his father suggested, folding his newspaper and setting it down, crossing his arms over his chest. Alex could feel his stony eyes boring into his head, but he still didn’t look up. “If you want to keep your place on the cross-country team then you need to start putting some actual effort in. Although I’m surprised they still want someone like you on the team anyway.”

Alex felt tears well up in his eyes. He couldn’t do this today. He couldn’t.

He said nothing, but clearly his dad wasn’t happy with that. “God’s sake, Alex, you’re really going to cry at that? What is this, some pathetic attempt to convince us you really are what you say you are? You think acting like a prissy little girl is going to make us think you’re queer? Christ Almighty, Alex, you’re not. My son is not gay. Man up. You’ll never get anywhere in life if you’re a goddamn emotional wreck.”

He wiped at his eyes, hoping it was discreet, knowing it wasn’t. A quiet sob escaped him but it sounded loud as a scream in the tense silence of the kitchen. He heard his mother tut, his father scrape his chair back and stand up, and even Lily’s giggles subsided as she realised that her big brother was crying.

“I wish I didn’t have to call you my son,” his father said. The disdain in his voice rattled around in Alex’s head, echoing over and over like some cruel broken record. A moment later, the door slammed and Alex was left alone with his mother and sister.

“You know not to upset him, Alex,” his mother told him. “He’s very stressed with work at the moment, he doesn’t need you and your nonsense adding to it.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, voice hoarse. His mother didn’t reply.

He opened his eyes – he didn’t know when he’d closed them, but the light in the kitchen was far too bright when he opened them again and he fought the urge to shut them – and looked out of the kitchen window. It was pouring with rain outside, wind heaving trees this way and that, the clothes hanging on the washing line at risk of blowing away.

“Can I have a lift to school please?” Alex asked. “It’s raining.”

Alex’s mother peered out the window herself, groaned at the drenched laundry on the washing line, then turned back to Alex with a sour look on her face. “If you’d got up on time then maybe I could have taken you. But no – your father’s got to work and I’ve got to get Lily ready for school. Make your own way there.”

“It’s hell out there,” Alex protested weakly.

His mother picked Lily up from her chair, the five-year-old covered in Coco Pops and with a huge smile on her face, looking so unlike her bitter mother that it was hard to believe they were related at all.

“You’ll be fine,” his mother said. “You’re going to hell anyway.”

Without another word, his mother left the room, Lily waving at Alex over her shoulder. Alex hung his head, rubbing his knuckles against his temples, trying to ground himself, trying to think. Maybe he could get a lift from one of his friends, he considered. But his house wasn’t on the way to school for any of them and he didn’t want to annoy them by making them go out of their way to get him. Besides, they’d probably just tell him to walk. It wasn’t like the school was that far away, it was only a little rain. He wasn’t that pathetic, he could handle getting a bit wet. What did it matter?

He shook his head to clear his addled thoughts, finished getting ready for school, found an old coat and headed out into the rain. He just made himself get on with it.

Even though the walk to school was short, it wasn’t made easy by the rain. It blurred most of his vision, soaked any part of him that wasn’t covered by the coat – within three minutes his jeans were plastered to his legs and his face was numb with cold. At one point, a car drove past his and sent an icy puddle spraying up at him like a tidal wave. He spat rainwater out onto the pavement and wished for the rain to subside, just for a little bit. Of course, it didn’t.

When he finally arrived at school, he pulled his coat off and shook out his wet hair like a dog. A group of girls beside him shrieked as the water splashed them, but he didn’t have the energy to apologise. He just made his way to his locker, trying to move quickly as if that would make the day go faster, get it all out of the way.

He arrived at his locker and saw Luke waiting for him there, a bright smile on his face that disappeared as soon as he saw the state Alex was in.

“Bro, you’re a mess,” he said as soon as Alex was close enough to hear him.

“Thanks,” he deadpanned.

“Did you walk here? Dude, it’s practically a storm out there.”

Alex shrugged, trying to play it off like he didn’t care. “So? A little water won’t hurt me.”

“You’re shivering,” Luke pointed out. “And you’re soaked. Dude, you can’t go around in wet clothes all day, you’ll get sick. And you’re a nightmare when you’re sick.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said dismissively. “I might have some sweatpants in my PE kit. I’ll wear those.”

“Why did you walk anyway?” Luke asked, leaning against the locker beside him.

“My parents couldn’t take me.”

Luke’s expression morphed into something Alex was too tired to identify. There was confusion in there, concern, maybe a bit of anger. None of it made sense to Alex though, so he opened up his locker so he’d have somewhere else to look.

“I would have taken you,” Luke said, clapping Alex on the back. The touch made his skin crawl and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and dispel the grim feeling that had settled between his shoulder blades. “You should’ve just called.”

“My house isn’t on the way for you,” Alex pointed out.

“So? You know I would have come for you, Alex, don’t be dumb.”

Alex’s heart sank. Was that what he was? Did Luke really think he was dumb for not calling him? Though Alex was starting to feel a little stupid himself. What had he been thinking? Had he really let his stupid anxieties get to him so much that he’d misjudged his friends so harshly? Maybe he was as stupid as Luke said.

“Alex,” Luke said softly, pulling him back down to Earth. “Don’t get lost in your own head, buddy. Okay? Just go and get changed. You’re fine. I’ll see you in class, bro.”

He headed to the changing rooms, not really paying attention to anything going on around him and hardly remembering the journey once he got there. Hurriedly, he pulled his waterlogged jeans off and tried to brush any lingering water off his legs, but it was impossible. He settled for being a little bit damp and pulled the joggers on. They were a thousand times more comfortable than the jeans, the first bit of good luck he’d had since he woke up. As he left the room, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and felt something in one of them.

It was a small scrap of paper. He didn’t remember putting anything in his pockets, so he pulled it out to inspect it. He recognised the handwriting immediately and for the first time that day a smile tugged at his lips.

I love you!

Willie’s messy scrawl filled most of the page, surrounded by tiny love hearts. He must have slipped it into Alex’s pocket the last time he’d been wearing these joggers. It made Alex’s heart flip, remembering that Willie was somewhere in the school and this note was proof that he loved him. Somewhere nearby, Willie was wandering the halls (or more likely skating through them and being sent to Principal Lessa for it yet again) and Alex would get to see him soon. That, he knew, would brighten even his darkest days.

For a moment or two he let himself be happy. He’d see Willie and everything would feel fine. Willie had that effect on Alex – just one moment together could force any worry out of his mind.

But then he realised that it was a Friday. The one day of the week where his timetable clashed so awfully with Willie’s that they had literally no chance to see each other. They didn’t share a breaktime, they didn’t share lunch, there was no chance they’d even pass each other in the halls. Any hope Alex had held dissipated like air from a burst balloon. He was back to feeling like today just wasn’t worth it.

Without thinking, he pulled his phone out and quickly texted Willie, asking if he could sleep at his house that night. It would be good for a lot of reasons – he would have to spend the evening with his parents, he’d get to hold Willie for as long as he wanted to, and all the day’s stresses would finally leave him and he’d be free. All he had to do was get through the day.

Willie replied quickly, saying of course Alex could sleep over, he’d be looking forward to it. It was something to be happy about, Alex knew. Something for him to look forward to, to be excited by. But his anxiety got to it before his excitement could – what if Willie forgot, what if he changed his mind, what if Alex was somehow made to go home instead? All of a sudden his mind was buzzing again, a thousand possibilities being hauled through one by one, each less likely but more troubling than the last.

Just as he started considering the possibility that Willie had only said yes as some cruel joke, that their whole relationship was built just to embarrass Alex, he knew he had to stop. He knew he had to force himself to concentrate on something else, ignore every curse his brain threw at him. The school bell rang, signalling the first lesson, and Alex made himself get on with it.

School was decidedly not good. In his first lesson, Alex was surprised by a maths exam he’d completely forgotten to study for. His head was swimming the whole time and he only answered four of the questions, leaving the rest blank or filled with scribbles and half-finished equations. In his second lesson, the teacher asked for homework to be handed in, and Alex realised he’d left his on his desk in his bedroom. The teacher threatened him with detention which made Alex’s heart beat so rapidly that he could feel the blood pulsing in his neck. The only reason he got out of it was because it was the first time he’d ever left his homework and luckily the teacher was feeling kind.

But his third lesson was the worst. He arrived with most of the class long before the teacher, and all the other students were so loud. They were laughing and shouting and throwing things around, making so much noise that Alex wanted to clamp his hands over his ears and shut his eyes and stop moving. It was physically painful and he couldn’t take it. Before the teacher had even arrived, Alex was out of his seat and heading as fast as he could to the toilets.

He locked himself in a cubicle, leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, hands covering his eyes. His breathing came out in ragged strips, burning his chest. Hot tears were leaking down his cheeks and every time he wiped one away three more replaced it. He couldn’t feel his legs, if he had tried to stand up he knew they wouldn’t have held him. His hands were shaking so violently that he had to press them harder against his face to still them, knowing he’d probably leave a mark. Every time he moved felt like an excruciating amount of effort.

It felt like it would go on forever.

By the time he regained feeling in his legs, his hands stopped shaking, his eyes weren’t watering and his breathing was even, he had missed the entirety of his lesson. He forced himself up from the floor, feeling disgusting as he realised that the floor of a school toilet was probably one of the most unhygienic places on Earth. But he checked himself in the mirror one last time, ignored the receding blotches on his face, and headed to lunch.

The rest of the day passed largely without incident. He wasn’t hungry, so spent most of lunch pushing food around his plate. Julie, Reggie, and Luke gently encouraged him to try and eat something, but they left it alone when he told them he couldn’t. His final lessons dragged on and on, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that soon it would be just him and Willie and he could forget the dreadful day he’d had.

He met Willie at the entrance of the school after his final lesson. The rain had cleared and there was a tiny hint of the sun peeking through the clouds, glinting on the wet pavement. Alex’s heart swelled when he saw Willie waiting for him, skateboard in hand, hair tucked under his helmet, beaming. He walked over to him and didn’t bother saying anything before pulling Willie into the tightest hug he could.

Willie chuckled in his ear, gripping him with just as much force. “Miss me, hotdog?”

Alex could only nod, burying his face into Willie’s hair.

He felt Willie press a gentle kiss to his neck. “I missed you too. But I’m here now. Just us two.”

“Just us two,” Alex echoed.

The further away they walked from the school, the more Alex’s heart lifted. Hand in hand with Willie, he listened to him talk about his day, ranting about the cool stuff he’d learnt in history and showing him photos of the latest project he was working on in his art class.

“Recognise this guy?” Willie asked, swiping onto a picture of a portrait. The guy in the picture was laughing, his head tipped back and his eyes closed, blond hair fallen over his face. The background was dark, dotted with twinkling lights in every colour of the rainbow. Alex felt himself smile, in awe of Willie’s talent, loving him more every second.

“That’s me,” Alex said quietly.

He knew exactly what picture Willie had used as a reference. It had been taken when the two of them had gone to a carnival for the night – Alex had been laughing at Willie, who had somehow managed to get candyfloss all over his face while eating it. The portrait version captured the pure elation and giddiness Alex had been feeling at the time perfectly, better than the actual photograph had managed. He had no idea how Willie could paint the way he did, like the paintbrush was an extension of his arm, natural and easy.

There were no words to describe the way Willie made Alex feel, so he settled for, “I love you.”

Willie blushed daintily and squeezed Alex’s hand, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I love you too.”

They arrived at Willie’s house soon enough. Luckily for Alex, he kept plenty of clothes at Willie’s as well as a toothbrush and a pair of drumsticks, so he didn’t have to go home and grab anything before coming. The two of them changed into more comfortable clothes (and if Alex stole one of Willie’s hoodies rather than simply using one of the three he kept there, that was his own business) before deciding to be lazy and tuck themselves into Willie’s bed together rather than heading all the way back downstairs.

Alex had planned to try and be fun that evening, for Willie’s sake. He didn’t want to be boring and quiet, letting his bad day get to him when he was with Willie. He wanted to have fun and be fun, not the moping emotional wreck he felt like. But it was easier said than done. Sure, being with Willie had already cheered him up immensely, but when he finally got to rest for a moment he thought he might break. The weight of the day caught up with him, every crushing thing his parents had said, every bitingly cold raindrop, every loud noise in the class he’d skipped. He felt as tired as he had that morning when he’d pulled himself from the bed.

He couldn’t make himself be fun that day.

“What are you thinking about?” Willie asked, running a hand through Alex’s hair. The touch was soothing and soft – it tore down the final remnants of Alex’s resolve.

He cuddled up close to Willie, laid his head on his shoulder, and he cried.

Willie didn’t say anything. He just looped his arms around Alex’s back and held him close. He gently stroked Alex’s hair, rubbed small circles on his back, pressed the occasional soft kiss to the top of his head. That was what Alex loved about Willie – there was never any pressure, Willie would let Alex do what he needed to in his own time. If he needed to cry his eyes out for some impossible amount of time, Willie would let him and he would hold him while it happened.

Eventually he calmed down enough to speak. Releasing the tears had left a hollow feeling in his stomach (though that might have had something to do with the fact he hadn’t eaten since breakfast). He felt guilty, selfish, like he should have just bitten his tongue and kept his emotions inside.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, throat dry.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Willie told him reassuringly. “I don’t mind. I just want to be here for you.”

“You don’t want me to explain?” Alex asked. Usually when he broke this way people demanded an explanation from him, made him tell them everything he was thinking, forced him to move too quickly and too far. But Willie, of course, was different.

“Only if you want to,” Willie said. Alex propped his chin on Willie’s shoulder, angled so that he could look him in the eye. All he saw was honesty, adoration, care… things he wasn’t used to seeing when he was in such a state. But he knew he could always count on Willie to show him exactly what he needed.

He took a deep breath and slowly he told Willie everything. He told him how he’d felt awful since the moment he had woken up, how his parents had only made it worse, how the rain had dampened his mood, how he’d found Willie’s note but been crushed when he realised he wouldn’t see him. He told him about the failed test, the missed homework, the panic attack in his third lesson, eating nothing at lunch and how he was dreading the next time he had to go home.

And all the while, Willie just listened. He never interrupted, never offered an unhelpful opinion, never told Alex he was being silly. He just listened until Alex was finished.

“Look at me, Alex,” he said then, voice low. Alex did as he said. “None of this is your fault. Please tell me you know that.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes again, but still Alex nodded. He hadn’t known it before, but he believed everything Willie said. It Willie claimed it wasn’t Alex’s fault, then it wasn’t his fault.

“Your bad days will come and go,” he continued, wiping a stray tear away from Alex’s cheek. “But they��ll always be followed by good ones sooner or later. You can stay here with me for as long as you need to and I promise I’ll try and make every day as good as it can possibly be for you. You are loved, Alex.”

Alex sniffled weakly. “I know.”

“Maybe today did suck,” Willie said, “but look at where you are. You made it through. You got through this awful day. You’re still here, Alex, you’re still fighting. You did that all by yourself – I wish you hadn’t had to do it alone, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but you did it. I’m so proud of you. You made it, that’s what matters. You made it and I love you.”

Though he didn’t feel like he had a lot of strength left, Alex leaned up and kissed Willie’s cheek gently. He didn’t feel like he could speak, so that was his thank-you. Willie beamed at it, and Alex felt his spirits lift. He laid his head back down on Willie’s shoulder and nestled further into the bed.

“I mean it, Alex,” Willie whispered. “I’m proud that I get to call you my boyfriend.”

Alex had no idea how to reply, so he didn’t. He knew Willie knew that he loved him in return. That night, the two of them fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing, wrapped in one another’s arms, holding each other with all the love in the world.

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rreyie · 3 years

Text

Fight for Us

Chapter ii- A Field

summary- after getting a rather ominous statement from reiner, you figure out exactly what it means.

warnings- major triggers- attempted suicide, guilt, mentions of figurative violence, dark thoughts. read with caution if you are sensitive to those issues.

a/n- this chapter was definitely a hard one to write, but i mean i don’t think it came out terrible? i promise all this angst is temporary and i’ll make it get fluffier :(

Reiner and you sat on the curb of the street, looking up into the midnight sky that hung over the two of you. The moon was at half tonight, and you could see the craters on it even though it was millions of miles away.

A cool breeze came along through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. Reiner could see you shaking out of the corner of his golden eyes, shimmering bright in the pale moonlight.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked. “You should get home before you catch a cold.”

“I-is that okay?” You ask, body trembling in a weak attempt to stay warm. “I don’t w-wanna leave you here.”

Reiner chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll catch up in the morning if that’s okay with you.”

You nod, and get yourself up off of the cold pavement. Reiner stays there looking up at the moon, a content expression on his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Reiner”, you say, and wave. Turning the opposite direction, you head home to go to sleep for the night.

Before you head too far off, Reiner clears his throat loud enough to make you hear him and turn your attention back to him, a puzzled expression on your face.

“Y/n?” He asks, still not turning away from you.

“What?”

“...I’m sorry.”

You arch a brow at this, not knowing exactly what he meant by this. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. What are you apologizing to me for, anyway?”

Reiner sighed, one that was barely audible. “You’ll know in the morning.”

———

After heading home confused and partly concerned, you tucked yourself into bed after reading a part of a romance novel you borrowed off your parents bookshelf.

At one point, the two main lovers in the story were frolicking in a field after running away from their disapproving parents. When trying to visualize this, you swore you might have accidentally saw you and Reiner instead of those two lovers.

If only the world was as complicated as that field of flowers.

When you woke up the next morning, it took you a moment to remember your conversation that you and Reiner had last night. His last words before you

left echoed through your head.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, what could that mean? You ask yourself, pondering on this question while slipping out of your nightgown and into your normal day clothes. You shrugged off the question for now, it couldn’t mean anything too deep.

Today you had plans to go into town just for the hell of it. Perhaps a nice shopping day in downtown Marley would be nice, maybe stopping for some coffee or tea afterwards. And of course, you had to pop into the warriors dorms to say hello to Reiner again. He did say he wanted to finish catching up with you.

After getting the rest of your clothing on, you headed out the door to the busy streets of Marley, already crowded with people and merchants. It was like everyone in this country had collectively decided to come out and buy groceries this very hour.

The walk to the headquarters wasn’t long, perhaps fifteen minutes or so from your apartment. Once you got there, you saw two men with blonde hair and a woman with black hair that was rather messy. You could recognize them easily, since they still flaunted some of the features they had when they were children. One was Porco Galliard, another Zeke Yeager, the woman was Pieck Finger.

The first one to notice your presence from across the cobblestone street was Porco. His head instantly turned, and a wide smile formed on his lips.

“Hey, y/n!” He shouted, throwing a hand up in the air and waving it.

You smile, and cross the street to meet the other warriors. Eventually Zeke notices you after lighting a cigarette, followed by Pieck.

“How are you?” Pieck asks, wrapping you in a warm hug. Her demeanor was always soft and comforting, making you feel safe every time you were around her. “You got tall, it feels like the last time I saw you, you were only this high!” She gestures her hand to somewhere around her chest.

“Yeah”, you giggle. “Puberty does wonders I guess. I heard about your victory in Fort Slava, that was pretty cool if I do say so myself.”

“It was, but it was a little terrifying to see a canon being pointed at me every five minutes. But nonetheless it was still cool.” Porco chuckled, and you saw the faintest shade of pink spread across his cheeks. He reached a hand to smooth back his blonde hair, even though he must’ve had a gallon of hair gel on him.

“So um, have you seen Reiner?” You asked them. Porcos face instantly dropped upon hearing his name. “I figured he would be here, since the whole titan shifter thing.”

“He uh, hasn’t showed up to the meeting this morning”, Zeke added, breathing out a puff of grey smoke. You coughed as your nose picked up the scent of ash. “You could probably find him in the dormitories.”

“Thank you Zeke”, you say. “I’d better go find him. He said we would catch up today since we didn’t have the time yesterday. I’ll see you guys later!”

You wave goodbye to them, Zeke and Pieck waving back while Porco just stood there.

Porco didn’t want to admit it, but hearing Reiners name come out of your mouth like that made his blood boil. He saw yesterday the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him, how you hugged him so tightly. And the worst part was that you liked to hang around that asshole, the one who had the chance to make things better, but didn’t. He swore he could do better than him in every way possible.

You walked down the halls to where all the dorms were, all the doors open except one. You assumed Reiner was probably in the occupied room, so you made your way down the hall to that closed door.

Your footsteps echoed in the near empty hallway, boots clacking on the polished floor. Once you came to the door, you gulped down your nervousness and placed three knocks on the wooden door.

There was no reply. You waited patiently for another thirty seconds or so, but soon grew impatient and decided to just open the door.

“Reiner, I was wondering where you wer-“

Your breath was practically stolen from you because of the sight laid out in front of you. Reiner sat on his desk chair, a locked and loaded rifle sitting in his throat. His eyes were dull, hair a mess and skin pale.

You were frozen. You couldn’t comprehend why that rifle was in his mouth. He was always so lively, what the hell was he doing?

Then it clicked.

“...I’m sorry. You’ll understand in the morning.”

He was going to shoot himself.

You ran to his side, trying to hold back an outburst of tears from streaming down your cheeks, you could feel them building up in your eyes. Reiner swiftly pulled out the rifle, a gob of spit coating the head. He let out a few strained coughs, letting you know exactly how deep that rifle was inside his mouth.

“Reiner, what the hell are you doing?” You ask, voice cracking. “Don’t tell me...”

“It’s what it looks like y/n, i know. I just don’t- I can’t- fuck, this is hard to explain...”

Before he could let out another word, you found your arms enveloping his cold body, wrapping around both of his broad shoulders and around his upper back.

“Don’t say anything”, you whisper in his ear. “Just... just sit with me.”

Reiner could feel his tears start to come up too, clumping up at his lashline and threatening to come down.

“I’m s-sorry I’m useless”, he hiccuped. “I-I’m so tired...”

His grip tightened around your back, and he soon found himself clinging to you, the tears rolling down his puffy cheeks. He sniffled, and let out a broken sob. His tears began to soak through your shirt, creating a temporarily stained spot on your shirt. But that was the least of your concern right now.

“You’re- you’re not useless, Reiner”, you say. “You’re everything that this country needs.”

“I’m just holding them back, y-y/n...” he said, almost whispering in a voice you’ve never heard come out from him. “I’m the reason t-that we lost Bertholdt and the others. I would be better with my brains blown out right now.”

You slightly gasp at his statement, but don’t dare to pull away in the state he’s in right now. “Don’t you say that ever again, Reiner. You were chosen for a reason-“

Reiner pulled away from you, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “R-remember what I told you last night? Marcel swayed the decisions to protect Porco. It wasn’t supposed to be me. It shouldn’t have been me, ever.”

“Look at me”, you say, taking ahold of his face, holding his head between your two palms. “You’ve done everything you could- in fact, you’ve done more than I ever could! You’re brilliant, Reiner, you hear me?”

Reiner was trembling at this point, shaking like a nervous puppy at the vet. His eyes were wide with panic, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. You didn’t know what else to say.

Your mind wanders to a darker place for a moment, if you had shown up a minute too late to see his cold body on the floor. What would you have done? How would you have forgiven yourself? You were going to pray tonight for getting the chance to talk him out of it.

His eyes clenched shut, and he buried his head in your shoulder. You could physically feel your heart shatter for Reiner, being in a condition like this. You couldn’t help but cry along with him, not knowing what else to say. Muffled groans and sobs escaped his mouth, quieted by your shirt you were wearing. Each cry felt like somebody was stabbing you repeatedly, the vibrations from his wails shaking you to your core.

“Im sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He wailed. “I’m just so fucking tired of this planet!”

“S-stop apologizing, R-Reiner...” you say, a knot forming in your throat. “L-let’s just go over here, okay? R-Relax.”

You take his hand and guide him up a few steps to lead him to his bed, where he quickly sits down, unable to stand because of the intense emotions. You sit down with him, in fear of what he would do if you left. You reached out a hand, which he quickly started to hold, squeezing your palm.

Reiners cries start to calm, not entirely, but the volume has certainly gone down. He hiccuped twice before speaking clearly.

“Y-you shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“I’ll take this over your blood all over the floor any day”, you reply, wiping a tear from your cheek. You notice a few staining his, so you quickly reach out a thumb to his cheek and wipe away a salty tear or two.

“Thanks”, he said.

You could hear some yelling outside, the distant chatter of children audible through the wall. You guessed the warrior candidates were out to play during one of the rare breaks they had.

“If Gabi saw me like that”, Reiner began. “I would be screwed. And my mother? Dear god...”

“I’ll keep this a secret if you want to”, you quickly say. “Just make sure you put that rifle somewhere else. It makes me uneasy thinking that you could... you know.”

“I’ll do that”, he adds.

“Good”, you say. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s out of protection.”

Reiner nods. “I get it.”

After sitting in comfortable silence for a moment, Reiners mouth opens, as if he was going to say something. But nothing came out.

You turn to him, confused about what he was trying to do. “Something wrong?”

“It’s nothing”, he said. “I’ve just been thinking about... about how you’ve been here all this time. When we were kids you cleaned me up after Porco beat the shit out of me. You even brought me stuff to eat when we couldn’t afford much. And now you’re here... after all of this. Why? Why are you here?”

Now that you thought about it, why were you here? What had compelled you to stick with him? Was there something more than platonic feelings towards him, No, no. That couldn’t be right, you thought. You’re only feeling these things because you missed him.

“Because... you’re my friend”, you quickly answer. “This is what friends do.”

A minuscule smile curved on Reiners pale lips, indicating he was content with your answer. “Huh.”

After sitting in a few more seconds of utter quietness, Reiner looks at the clock and quickly gets up, smoothing out the folds on his uniform. “Fuck. I told the others we would go out for drinks tonight. Plus the festival is tomorrow. Uh, wanna come with us? I’m positive the others won’t mind.”

“I don’t see why not”, you reply.

“Alright”, he says. “I’ll go shower. We’re going to the pub at 7.”

“So it’s a date?” You ask.

Reiners brow arches. “What?”

You cover your mouth, shocked at what you just said. “I-it’s a saying. Like i’ll be there. Not an actual date, of course not-“

“Oh. That’s okay”, he cuts you off. “I’ll um, see you at eight then?”

“Perfect”, you say, heading to the door, heat rising to your cheeks. “See you then!”

As you close the door, you immediately face palm yourself and sigh. Why the hell did that come out of you? Now Reiner was totally going to suspect that you felt something that is definitely not platonic, and he might leave you!

After realizing how much overthinking you were doing, that finally tore it. You felt something different for Reiner Braun. But you were going to have to hide it for a while now.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot hcs #aot headcanons #snk headcanons #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #aot reiner #reiner aot #snk reiner #reiner snk #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #reiner #snk fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

Text

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 4

Masterlist 🌿 (check for previous chapters) / Playlist

In this chapter, the reader fully joins Eivor’s clan and takes part in the celebrations before the raid. Talking with Eda does not go as planned.

Content Warnings for food & alcohol, mentions of physical abuse, lesbophobia, light smut and vomit.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart

The Sting of Rejection

You had already slept for a few hours when Eivor returned from her council meeting late at night. Even though she tried to be quiet and not to wake you, you were awake as soon as you heard her steps on the path outside.

Birna had curled up in your arms and raised her head when the warrior entered, not moving from her warm and comfortable spot. You remained still, your eyes closed as you listened to the woman’s movements. Her fur coat fell to the ground almost inaudibly, the wood of her trunk creaked quietly as she sat down to take off her boots, her leather pants rustled when she pulled them off and threw them in a corner.

Then you finally felt her motions, too as she lifted a corner of the quilt covering you and slipped in the bed, immediately scooting close to you. She gave Birna a few gentle strokes until the cat started to purr softly and Eivor lowered her head next to yours with a satisfied sigh. She smelled like beer and smoked meat, accompanied by that faint, wonderful scent of tree bark.

You must have stirred because Eivor lifted her head again, whispering: “Little bird… there are good news for you.”

Careful not to disturb Birna, you turned slightly and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She smiled.

“You are now one of us. Mine.” She watched your face attentively for a reaction. You closed your eyes and swallowed. So it was decided.

“Are you happy?” Eivor asked, drawing her fingertips over your healthy cheek.

“Yes, I am,” you answered, turning back around and scooting back against her.

“Mmhh. We’ll talk in the morn.” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, then you both drifted off to sleep.

You were woken by Birna's demanding meows at the door. She had not left the hut since yesterday and was probably hungry and in need of a quiet corner. Eivor grunted, then she untangled herself from your limbs and cursed in her mother tongue when she stumbled over her clothes on her way to let the cat out.

“You won’t like it outside, little lady. The snow has stayed,” she grumbled as she opened the door. Indeed, Birna was not amused at the prospect of stepping into the cold, wet powder that painted the village in beautiful white and whirled into the room as soon as the door stood ajar. You pulled the blanket over your head to escape the stinging cold air, listening to Eivor and Birna bicker about the cat’s options for the day.

It really sounded like they were having a conversation, one that ended with Birna leaving with a last, angry cry and Eivor shutting the door with a thankful sigh. She let herself fall back on the bed and crawled under the covers. You stuck your head out.

“So, I’m one of you now?”

Eivor needed a moment to process your question, then she sat up and nodded.

“The council was thankful for your offer to help us prepare the raid and accepted your proposal. You’re going to come with me later so you can have another look at the map and tell us everything you know. In return, you will receive a wooden bangle declaring you part of this clan and my personal servant as soon as we return.”

You sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to find the right words.

“I am very grateful for your trust. I know it normally does not come easy,” you said. “May I ask something else of you?”

The blonde raised her eyebrows with a questioning look.

“My- the people who came with me. How are they?”

“Oh, they are all well.” Eivor got up and started putting on her clothes. “Three of them have decided to stay with us freely and work in the stables and the longhouse. Two have yet to decide and your lady friend is refusing to speak to us. I hear she is eating, at least.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You were not the only one to change sides. You were fairly sure you knew who had taken up work in the village; the two remaining prisoners were probably the squires to Lord William. They had endured harsh treatment at his hands, but he had promised them a future as knights and held them in higher regard than his own daughters. It made sense that Eda was not willing to speak or change her mind. She blamed Eivor for the death of her entire family.

“Eivor?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“Do you think I could have a word with Eda? Maybe I can reason with her,” you suggested, holding your breath as you waited for her reaction. She considered it for a moment, then she shrugged and put on her coat.

“I guess it would do no harm. You can speak with her before we meet the others in the map room, maybe she will tell you something helpful.” She turned around. “Do you want to join me in the longhouse for breakfast?”

The question surprised you, but she was right. You were healing fast, and there was no reason for you to stay in bed any longer. You agreed and swung your legs out of bed, slipped into your wooden clogs and put on your new coat over the linen tunic. Hopefully, you would be able to acquire some more fitting and functional clothes soon, but now was not the time to worry about looks. Your face was still swollen and blue anyway, your bruises now starting to fade to green at the edges.

You quickly rubbed the salve Valka had given you on your tender cheek, then Eivor held the door open for you and you stepped outside into the snow. The air was hard and cold, but clear and when it filled your lungs, you could feel it chase out the last remains of smoke and illness. Walking down to the longhouse, two dogs ran toward you and circled you with excited barks and wagging tails, apparently delighted to see Eivor. She laughed and chased them around for a bit, then she told them she had other things to do and they let her be and ran off towards the stables.

When you entered the longhouse, Eivor was immediately greeted by cheers and excited comments regarding the coming raid. She smiled and acknowledged everyone’s words before leading you to a side part of the house. There was a fireplace in the center of the area, a hole in the roof directing the smoke outside. A kettle and a metal grid were hung over the fire and an old woman was stirring porridge with a gigantic wooden spoon. You both stepped closer.

“Sfáva, dette er Y/N,” Eivor introduced you, gently placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “She is from Williamsburg and has decided to join us. She is a cook, too."

The old woman slowly came closer, squinting her eyes at you until her face was almost directly beneath yours. Then she suddenly gave you a warm, almost toothless smile, deepening the crows’ feet around her eyes and stretching the leathery, weatherbeaten skin on her cheeks.

“Velkommen, Y/N,” she croaked and took your hand, patting it lightly. She chattered something in Eivor’s direction and the warrior translated: “She’s glad to have you here and hopes you can show her some English cooking. She does not speak your language, but she understands a few words and can grasp your meaning if you speak slowly. Our tongues are not too different.”

You smiled back at Sfáva, gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m honored to work by your side, Sfavá.”

The old cook let out a delighted laugh at your proper pronunciation of her name and gestured for you to take a wooden bowl. You and Eivor both took bowls and spoons from a table and Sfavá filled them with porridge. Eivor loaded up her meal with several sausages from the grill, to which you passed.

“I’m afraid we can’t eat together. My place is up there” - she mentioned to the table at the back of the room, standing orthogonal to the rest of the tables - “with my brother. I see your old companions have found themselves over there, maybe you would like to join them?” She motioned over to where the three men that had been released as well sat and ate their breakfast.

You nodded and wished the warrior a good morning, then you walked over and sat down with the others. Aelfric and Hal had been the stable masters back at Williamsburg and were excited about the variety of horses and possibilities here. Eivor had apparently put a lot of money and work into the stables, making them a much more enjoyable place than the dark, moldy ramshackle hut William’s old mares had spent their days in. Lewin was also content with his situation; he had joined the butcher and his son in preparing meat for winter.

They were all happy to see you, thanking you for your quick thinking and cautious behavior during and after the attack. Lewin was even convinced they owed you their lives. While they went on discussing the possibilities of hunting at this time of the year, you stared into your porridge and tried to find the words and the courage for a conversation with Eda.

What could you say that would explain to her your disloyalty to her name, your treachery to England, your betrayal against her after everything you had gone through together? How could you ever change her mind or her situation, what were your possibilities in this? Would she stay locked into a cell for the rest of her life? What would the Vikings do with her if she was nothing but a nuisance?

The others took their leave and you were still none the wiser. Absorbed in your thoughts, you let your gaze wander through the long hall. Your eyes finally got caught on the she-wolf at the elevated warriors’ table. She was deep in conversation with Sigmund and tapping her finger on the table as she made her point to him. He seemed to agree with everything she was saying, consistently nodding his head as he devoured his sausages.

Suddenly, Eivor caught your gaze and while she kept talking, her finger stayed pressed to the wooden tabletop. You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned back to her brother to ask him something. Shaking your head, you got up and brought your empty bowl back to Sfáva’s side table.

Even though her eyesight seemed to be terrible, she immediately recognized you and repeated your name with a joyful fondness in her voice that made your heart swell in your chest. What a wonderful woman.

As you wandered around the hall to collect the dirty bowls people had left on the tables, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Smiling to yourself, you relished at the feeling a little bit longer before turning around to return Eivor’s look. To your surprise, she had stood up and turned her back to you, speaking with someone behind the table.

Slightly bewildered, you finished your round and carried the stash of bowls and spoons back to the cooking area. Just as you turned to ask Sfáva where you should wash the dishes, you saw something blue in the corner of your eye. You looked up and had to force yourself to keep your composure as you saw Randvi leaning against a wooden pillar across the hall and watching you from afar, her arms crossed and her face smooth and expressionless.

She did not move or look away when you saw her, standing perfectly still and continuing to look at you as you finally lowered your gaze and asked Sfáva about your tasks for the day. The old Viking explained her wishes to you with a mix of slow Norwegian and sign language, making it clear you should wash the bowls outside in a big trough and bring her another few sacks of flour. You felt uneasy as you left the longhouse to do your washing up, still followed by Randvi’s piercing gaze.

Eivor caught you outside, glad you had already settled in with your new work and thrilled for the raid. She was practically buzzing with excitement and her restlessness made you laugh, taking your mind off the strange moment with Randvi.

“What are you laughing at, eh? You are looking at a proud drengr, not a jester!” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in feigned outrage and making you laugh even harder.

“You remind me of Eda and Delia on the eve before Christmas. They were so excited for the next morning, they could barely sleep.” Your gaze lost itself in the dirty water in the trough before you. You had some good memories with the two girls. They had been so innocent and happy. A hand on the small of your back drew you back to the present. Eivor had stepped closer.

“I will sleep like a bear in winter so long as you lie by my side,” she said quietly.

Her words and touch sent chills up your spine. Before you could reply, Eivor stepped back.

“But first, we will plan our glorious raid. And then we will celebrate. Oh Y/N, you will love it. Mead and food and great songs - we will be in good spirits tonight. And tomorrow will be even better!” Her eyes lit up at the thought of the joy and glory to come. “I need to look at a few things in the stables. Take this time to speak with your friend. I will come and get you when it is time to meet over the map.”

You watched her as she walked away, a spring in her step as she headed for the wooden building at the far end of the village. The dishes were clean, so you took them back inside and left them on the table for Sfáva. She was deep in conversation with two other Norse women when you filled another bowl with porridge and two sausages and quietly made your way to the cell in the back of the longhouse.

Eda sat on the floor where you had left her last. Her dress was dusty and stained, her hair was matted and her face looked grey and old. Dag, who was keeping watch again, let you in with a grumble and sat back down on his chair. Eda refused to look at you as you knelt down before her and offered her the food.

“Eda, please. You must eat. You look like death itself.”

“I don’t fear death,” she mumbled, still staring at her hands, “I fear traitors and backstabbing snakes.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs. You had not expected her to be this hostile. What now?

“I do not claim to know the pain you feel and the losses you are bearing. I am simply trying to live with dignity instead of wasting away,” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes. “Do you not see my face? Were you not there when I learned I was worth nothing at Williamsburg, nothing but dirt on your father’s shoe? Eivor has offered me a place in this world. She-”

“You and your precious Eivor!” Eda snapped, her gaze now burning right through your head and her face screwed up into a hateful grimace. “You fell to your knees the second you saw her, begging for her to take you. I will not be lulled into submission by a filthy little sapphic whore!”

This blow hurt worse than William’s fist. There was nothing left to say. You put the bowl down next to her, then you stood up and left the cell. Dag gave you a strange look when he locked the door again.

Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped into Eivor. She knew something was wrong right away, pulling you into her warm embrace and letting you cry into her chest for a long moment until she pulled back and lowered her head to look at you.

“What is it, my little bird? Will your friend neither soften nor think clearly?”

You just nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Eivor turned to look over her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled you into an alcove.

“You stay here and collect yourself. I will tell them you got held up and will be there soon.” She pulled you in for a last, quick hug, then she vanished from sight.

You took a few deep breaths and slapped your chest and torso, trying to fully return to the present, to your body, and to your rational thoughts. If Eda wanted nothing more to do with you, so be it. You had other things to worry about now.

When you entered the map room there were five men waiting for you alongside Eivor and Randvi. One of them was Sigurd, Eivor’s brother and the official chief of her clan, even though you felt like a lot of people cared for Eivor more strongly. You had just found out today that he was also Randvi’s husband. The other four you had seen before but you did not know their names.

Eivor looked up from the map first, smiling widely and rounding the table to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She was the cook at Williamsburg and has visited Fort Winton several times. She will tell us all she knows about the area and the castle.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” One of the warriors gave word to what everyone was thinking. You straightened up, trying to brace yourself against Randvi’s icy expression.

“Thank you for this opportunity to make myself useful here. My cheek made acquaintance with Lord William’s fist the day of your attack, but I am healing now and he is not, that is all that matters. And I have you to thank for it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy everyone and you got to work. You spent the next hours telling them about every path and entrance to the castle you knew of, every person working there when you last visited, and everything about the Stewart that had taken over the shire. You even drew a plan of the order of the buildings and the rooms you knew of.

The Viking warriors warmed up to you quickly when they realized how much valuable knowledge you were giving them and even Randvi seemed to forget her hostility toward you after a while. The group even allowed you to stay for their debates on the right strategy, taking all your comments into consideration and thanking you for your help. Eivor reminded you at some point that you were still injured and told you to go back to the hut, put on the salve, and lay down. She would pick you up later for the feast.

Birna was already waiting for you at the door, mortally offended at having spent the day outside in the snow. She weaseled through the first crack in the door and was even more distraught when the fireplace was dead and the bed cold. You apologized sincerely and lit a fire to make Valka’s wonderful brew while you gently applied her salve to your healing cheek.

While your tea was steeping, you curled up with Birna and poured your heart out to her about Eda. She was a wonderful listener, snuggling up to you when you started crying and supporting your distraught words with agreeing meows. It was heartbreaking - the one friend you still had left did not want to be your friend anymore. You were all alone here. You had to admit that the Norse people were extremely welcoming to you and that Eivor would probably be very offended to hear you call yourself alone after two nights in her arms, but still. You were lonely. After you had drunk a cup of your herb infusion, you laid down, pulled Birna into your arms and cried yourself to sleep while the white cat silently watched over you.

A light grasp on your shoulder woke you and you opened your eyes to find Eivor crouching down before you, smiling softly at you. It was already dark outside and you had trouble finding your grasp on reality for a moment. Was it the next day? No. The feast.

Your mouth was dry and your eyelids felt heavy from crying. Eivor softly brushed the hair out of your face with her fingers.

“Good evening, little bird. Can I interest you in some excellent boar meat and warm mead?”

Birna answered in your stead, crying out as she stretched her little body on top of you. Eivor’s expression became even softer.

“For you, little lady, I have something special.” She took a small balled up bundle from her pocket and opened the stained cloth to reveal some fresh innards, probably taken from the boar. She placed the cloth on the ground in front of the fireplace and Birna jumped down from the bed to have her own royal feast.

You got up and followed the cat's example in stretching your limbs, feeling Eivor’s eyes on you as you put on your shoes and cloak and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. The blonde was next to you at once, holding your hands still.

“Wait. Let me.”

She opened her wooden chest and produced a beautiful wide-tooth comb. It was made from some kind of bone or fang. The warrior stood behind you and gently pulled all your hair back towards her. Then she began combing it out, starting at the bottom of each strand and carefully moving upwards, taking out any knots or dirt. Her fingers touched your scalp every time she took a new strand of hair, sending lightning down your spine and making the hair on your neck stand up.

“That’s better. I can braid it for you, too, if you’d like that,” Eivor said behind you. You brushed a hand over your long hair and felt its smoothness. You had never been allowed to wear your hair down at Williamsburg, always having to put it up in a knot and wear a bonnet or at least a cap. Today you had seen so many Viking women proudly wearing their hair down, some with intricate little braids and beads in theirs.

“I’d like that, yes,” you whispered, scared your voice would betray you. Every day, every hour here felt like a step closer to freedom and happiness.

“Sit down on the bed.” The blonde gently guided you to sit at the foot of the mattress so she could stand next to you. Then she began taking hair from your healthy side and braiding it along the hairline around your ear and down the back of your neck. She stepped around you to look at her work from the front.

“I think that is all you need. You’re beautiful.”

Your heart jumped into your throat, almost making its way onto your tongue. Your fingers followed the path of the small braid, admiring the perfect work of the warrior’s calloused hands. How peculiar, that these rough hands that wielded swords and axes bigger than your head could also be so gentle and precise.

A knock on the door tore you out of your reverie. It was Valka who wanted to take a look at your face and pick you both up for the feast. She was satisfied with your healing process and delighted to see Birna, having a little chat with the cat on the bed. You had to keep yourself from laughing when the thought of Birna being the true queen of this clan entered your head. She probably felt that the same way. The white cat was adored by everyone, and her demands were followed without question.

As the three of you made your way down to the longhouse, you could already hear loud singing and laughter. People were stumbling outside to relieve themselves in the bushes and others were just arriving, all being greeted with loud cheers and big jugs of mead. The same happened to you when you entered the great hall. A few warriors rushed to your side, greeting Eivor and paying you compliments and thanks for your help that day. Enthusiasm saturated the air like a humid day, filling everyone with joy and confidence for tomorrow.

Valka was quick to take the jug of ale from your hands and gave it to someone else who swore his love to her in return. She just smiled and pulled you towards the kitchen area. You had already lost Eivor in the mass of warriors jeering and singing praise to Odin. At the hearth fire, you met Sfáva sitting on a bench and enjoying a massive pitcher of mead. She cried out in joy when she saw you and hugged Valka tightly in greeting before squeezing your hands and grinning her almost toothless smile at you.

Valka asked you to stay with the older woman for a while and help her with the food; then you saw her talk to a red-haired woman and vanish in a dark corner with her. Maybe that was the woman she had spoken about with Eivor before? You wished her the best of luck.

There was not too much to do. The boar was on a spit over the great fire in the main hall and the men were responsible for cutting down the meat for everyone. You were grilling sausages and vegetables on the side and helping the boys open new barrels of ale that were consistently emptied within the hour.

Eivor came by soon, asking for more variety on her plate. It was obvious that she had already had enough mead to kill a boar, slightly swaying when she walked and getting extremely close when she tried to talk to you over the noise in the hall. Her face was red and radiating heat, her eyes had a drunk glisten to them and her laugh was rougher and dirtier than during the day. You were glad she was enjoying herself, although you could not help but wonder if this was the best idea considering her plans for tomorrow.

You spent some time outside cleaning plates at the trough and getting fresh air when you suddenly heard a noise around the corner. You debated for a moment whether you should risk a look but your curiosity got the best of you. As you stuck your head around the edge of the house, you weren’t immediately sure what you saw before you.

Two figures were leaning against the wall in close embrace, chuckling and mumbling sweet nothings to each other. As a cloud finally freed the moon and its light shone down on your village, you made out Valka’s golden headdress and the silhouette of the red-haired woman she had talked to earlier. Apparently, she had gotten lucky. You quietly moved back to your plates and smiled to yourself. Valka was a wonderful person, giving and loving and always putting others’ needs above hers. Eivor had spoken very highly of her trusted friend. She deserved to be happy.

When you came back inside and put the plates back on the sideboard in the cooking area, you noticed Eivor sitting at the front table surrounded by her men. And oh - there was Randvi sitting next to her. The two of them were leaning toward each other, their heads almost touching as they laughed about something Sigurd had said. It seemed that they had talked about their difficulties and made up.

You let yourself fall on the bench next to Sfáva and she patted your thigh, holding out her pitcher to signal it was empty. With a sigh, you got up to get her more mead and made yourself a plate of vegetables from the grid, seeing as you had not eaten since breakfast. Sfáva noticed you had not taken any meat and insisted you go get some boar meat. Upon the realization that she would not let you sit down again until you had tried the boar, you slowly went over to the big fire, hoping no one would notice you. The warrior there cut you a generous piece and you were almost back in your dark corner when someone called your name. God, no.

Aelfric, Hal, and Lewin were sitting at a table with some other stable boys and young maids. You gave Sváfa an apologetic wave which she answered with a loud, heartfelt laugh, then you made your way to your old companions. The boar was better than you had expected and you really were terribly hungry, wolfing down your food at an indecent speed and even going back for another portion. The others were talking about the two squires still sat in the cell; they were sure they would come around by the next morning. Who would really prefer the cold ground over these celebrations and the wonderful food that was shared fairly between everyone?

Looking over to the table at the back of the hall you could see Eivor and her friends conversing loudly, laughing and slapping each other's backs. At one point Dag danced on the table, but he soon lost his footing and went down in a wave of plates, jugs, rattling metal, and the yells of his fellow warriors. You stared at Eivor for a while, hoping she would return your gaze, but she was completely immersed in her conversation and never even looked up from her table. You finished your meal quietly, listening to the others talking about a new dice game they had learned and about a filly at the stable that was born in late autumn, a strange and dangerous time for newborns in the animal world. Together, they were sure they would get it through the winter safe.

Later you returned to Sfáva and leaned against the wall opposite her, warming yourself up by the fire and keeping an eye on Eivor, who was apparently in another drinking contest with one of her men. Randvi had her hands on Eivor’s shoulders and was cheering her on. A small figure stepped next to you, crossing her arms and following your gaze. Valka had returned.

You made no attempt to hide your feelings, you knew she had already seen through you. The healer put an arm around your waist and shook you slightly, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

“I know you saw us, Y/N.” The words took a moment for you to grasp their meaning, then you turned to Valka in surprise.

“Oh God, I swear I will keep your secret. I am a master at keeping my mouth shut.”

The smaller woman had to smile at your nervous reaction.

“I trust you. I am glad it was you that caught us and not someone else.”

“May I ask…” you hesitated, “what is going on between you?”

Valka turned her head to look at the singing warriors in the hall. There was a pain in her eyes that felt just too familiar.

“She is married. It was not her choice, but her father’s way of forging an alliance. Her husband is one of the hunters and away most of the time. When he beat her badly the first time, she came to me.”

The silence between you was heavy with meaning. When she began to speak again, her words grabbed your feet and pulled on them, getting heavier and heavier until you began to wonder why the earth had not opened underneath you and swallowed you whole.

“I know you wonder what happened between Eivor and Randvi. It is neither my place nor my ability to tell you everything, but I will say this, for fairness’s sake and because I think you already know in your heart. There was once love between them. Whether it still lives on, I cannot tell. But Eivor has told me that she is ready to leave this bond behind her because she feels something new, something far deeper and more intensive is coming. That is why she has pursued you. She felt something deeper the moment she met you.”

Valka turned to you and you fought to at least turn your feet so you could face her. Everything was spinning around you. The dark-haired woman gently placed her hands on either side of your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. The gods will lead you. They have decided your destiny long before you were born.”

After recommending you should get some sleep, Valka left you frozen in place and dizzy. The noise that filled the room was now nothing but a single loud booming voice threatening to split your head. You needed to get some air. Maybe your bed was really the best idea.

You looked around for Eivor, but she had vanished from sight. It did not matter, you would find your way into her arms later one way or another. You said your goodbyes to Sfáva and the other servants, then you finally exited the longhouse and inhaled the cool night air.

Rounding the corner toward your hut, you were suddenly startled by a noise that sounded like an animal crying out. Maybe a cat? You tiptoed around the dark cottage to your right and suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart dropped to your feet and all the blood left your face.

Eivor had pressed her brother's wife to the wooden wall and was kissing her passionately while her hands explored Randvi’s body under her tunic. They were so immersed that they had not heard you coming. You could not move, your feet suddenly weighing you down like boulders again.

The blonde’s knee was between the other woman’s legs and Randvi spread them for her lover, moaning into her mouth. As Eivor started attacking her neck with kisses, the auburn-haired woman opened her eyes and looked directly at you. The surprise in her gaze was almost unnoticeable, fading quickly to be replaced by malicious pleasure as she continued to stare at you while whining Eivor’s name and burying her fingers in the warrior’s hair.

Finally, your muscles started to work again. You turned on the spot and quietly made your way to Eivor’s hut. You felt sick. Closing the door behind you, you kicked your shoes under the bed and threw your coat into the corner. The cat on Eivor's pillow just gave you a questioning look.

“Oh Birna, if only you knew.” You threw yourself on the bed next to her, then you started bawling for the second time today. You cried until there was not a single tear left and you felt completely empty inside. Then you scooted close to the edge of the bed, turning your back to Eivor’s side, and tried to fall asleep.

Even though you fell into a state of absence, sleep would not come. Dread filled you when you heard teps at the door. But before Eivor could enter, you heard her cough and retch, probably throwing up into the thorny bushes a few steps from the door. A slight feeling of righteousness overcame you but it quickly disappeared again, leaving only misery and desperation.

When the warrior finally entered, you could hear her stumble through the room and curse under her breath as she hit her foot on the bed frame. She seemed to only take off her coat and let it fall to the floor before lying down next to you and falling asleep in an instant. A part of you had still hoped for her arms around you, despite everything. Now you could hear her ragged breathing and smell the smoke and alcohol on her hair and breath.

The tears came again and you silently cried into your pillow while the warrior slept soundly next to you, oblivious to your sorrow. Only Birna proved her loyalty to you by getting up from Eivor’s side of the bed and rolling up in the crook of your bent knees.

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you were woken the next morning by another salve of mumbled curses. It was still grey outside, dawn had only just begun. You stayed completely still and listened to Eivor dress herself and collect her weapons and shield from her trunk.

To your surprise, the warrior suddenly walked around to your side, crouched down, and lightly stroked your hair.

“Have a good day, my little bird. I will bring you honor and victory today,” she whispered, then she stood up and swiftly left the hut.

Let me know what you thought ❤️ (it’s okay if you hate me, I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next chapters)

#eivor x reader #lady eivor #f!eivor #f!eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #eivor fanfiction #ac valhalla #assassinscreedvalhalla #fluff #angst #im so sorry for the pain im putting you through #but it will be worth it in the end #never thought writing angst would be this much fun

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gaemkyuu · 4 years

Text

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113 made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.” Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview.

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him.

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap.

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?”

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers.

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine.

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked.

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie.

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s.

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice.

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline.

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside.

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines

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frogecstacy · 4 years

Text

Stargazing with Lucifer Chapter 2/2

Hey y’all I hope you like this story. It took longer than expected to write so I am sorry about that but here it is. If you liked it please leave a like.

Chapter 2

It was now morning and Lucifer was awakening from his slumber, normally feeling the warm embrace of your body heat you weren’t there to wish him good morning. Remembering the argument you had with him last night made him look forward to your kiss and apology at breakfast. He went to go freshen up and wait for you at the table but you never came.

The brothers said you had gone to walk to school with Luke, Simeon, and Solomon. This seemed to aggravate Lucifer and the mood set at the table had dropped drastically. None of the brothers seemed to want to talk about the events of what happened last night, except one. Belphie trying to get on Lucifer’s nerves had said you looked pretty down and that your eyes were puffy. This made Lucifer worry a little, had you gotten no sleep as well. This comment on your behalf was not making the chat at the table any brighter so Beel tried to change the subject asking “Hey did anyone set up that picnic area in the planetarium yesterday?” They all shook their heads in saying that they hadn't set it up. If none of the brothers had done it then it had to be MC. Why did all his thoughts have to revolve around MC. Had Lucifer fallen so deeply in love that he wasn’t aware she had him wrapped around their finger. He already missed her touch, how would he go the rest of the day not trying to give in to this petty fight of theirs.

While the six other demons looked at their older brother, he quickly erased the negative emotion on his face and said “What are you looking at, school starts soon.” Everyone scrambling to escape Lucifer’s gaze he pulled Mammon aside. “Gah, what is it Lucifer? I haven’t even done anything yet.” He quickly shut up as he saw Lucifer’s worrisome face “Was MC really that upset last night?” Lucifer asks this in a shaky breath. The mere thought of you crying over him made him push away his pride and want to put you first. His love. His life. His beloved MC.

“Mammon, do you think you could keep MC busy for about 3 hours after RAD.” Lucifer now asking with a plan and an apology comes to mind. “I could for a price or Gah-” Mammon was quickly shut up with a flick to the back of his head “alright, alright I’ll watch MC.” Lucifer now happy already looking forward to the smile that would be on your face in a couple hours. “Tell MC to go to the planetarium after the 3 hours are up okay.” “Okay, now if you’ll excuse me I have to get to class or could this be a free pass.” Mammon now having a cheeky smile. “Get to school Mammon!”

Lucifer now planning your relaxing evening. First he would be making you a dinner and serving it in the planetarium with candles and a beautiful dinner setting, after that he will then dance with you. And for the finale he will do something so much better than stargazing, he will show you the stars up close no telescope could compare. Flying. He hadn’t stretched his wings in a while but for you he would make the exception. For you he would make any exception, who would have thought the Avatar of Pride would be so madly in love with a mere human. If you asked for a star he would try even if it killed him to see that beautiful smile of yours.

(Sorry if when I switch POV’s it’s confusing but we are now going to MC’s POV)

RAD was a blur as you had a crap night, no breakfast as you didn’t want to face Lucifer’s harsh punishment that you were sure would come sooner or later. However most of all you missed him last night, in the morning hell you even miss now. Now having thought over the situation maybe you didn’t read the signs and should’ve taken a hint that Lucifer wasn’t in the mood. The insecurities still seeping in through your heart, does he truly think I am needy and annoying? Does he love me or was he waiting to leave and I just happened to end the process faster? All these negative emotions clouding your right of judgement until you hear “Hey! Human, you are coming out with me for a while.” Mammon now declaring his presence you are looking at him lost “Didja hear me, The Great Mammon told you we’re going out.” “Sorry Mammon I think I am just going to go home, I’m tired and I want to go back to bed.” Mammon now frantically trying to find an excuse to keep you around. If the plan failed his weekend would be spent being upside down from the staircase. “Come on MC, you want to go home? Why, Lucifer is there. You're bound to get that punishment. Why don’t you live a little and come with me.” The thought of Lucifer’s disappointing face made your spine tingle, maybe staying out for a little with Mammon wouldn’t be that bad.

You were wrong, Mammon had managed to drag you to every thrift shop and boutique in the DevilDom looking for treasures. It had been almost 3 hours and he certainly was taking his time.

(Quick headcanon I think Mammon would be great at thrift shopping because I do it myself and all the valuable treasures and finds you can get are amazing. Mammon would be like those depop sellers)

Now whining to Mammon “Mammon, can we please go. My legs hurt and now I’m not even your shopping buddy. I'm just here to golf your bags. We’ve been shopping for almost 3 hours now, don't you think it’s time to head home?” Mammon now frantically panicking, he had lost track of time and was hurrying you back to the House of Lamentation. “Ah come one MC put those human legs to some use, we have to hurry we’re about to be late.” “Late? Late for what?” now trying to keep up with Mammon’s step. “I have to be somewhere and I have to drop you off at the house. Alright no more questions, just do what I say.” Now even more confused you just going along with it. This isn’t the first time Mammon has acted strange.

Finally arriving at the House of Lamentation Mammon takes the bags you were holding for him and rushes you to the planetarium. “Mammon why are we at the doors of the planetarium, I didn’t leave anything in there.” You fully knew you left the picnic set and didn’t want to be reminded of your rejection. “Just go in there would ya. I have to go so bye. Make sure you go in there.”

After just being left there standing at the doors you finally decide to open them. The sight you saw caused you to gasp. A beautiful table with a dinner that reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything as you skipped breakfast. All around the room were candles and on the table an enclosed flower. One that looked similar to the one Lucifer had gotten you for Christmas. At the thought of Lucifer you heard someone’s voice from behind you. “Hello MC” behind you was Lucifer the Avatar of Pride holding a bouquet of roses and wearing an apologetic face. “Listen MC I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I was tired and I wasn’t listening to what you were saying so I didn’t know the whole evening you had enjoyed.” You wanted to forgive him, but the words of neediness and annoying still hung in the air for you. Now turning to him fully, you are holding yourself with your arms, Lucifer starts to approach you but you step back. Lucifer now worrying even more, had he frightened you so much that you thought he would hurt you. Had he been that harsh? “MC please, I’ve missed you. I need to feel you again. I’m terribly sorry for what I said ``''Do you even remember what you said?” You now blurt out your thoughts in a shaky voice. Lucifer now answers hesitantly as he doesn’t want to worsen the situation “Not quite my dear but I take back whatever I said.” “You can’t just take back your words Lucifer! You called me needy and annoying! Do you know how much that hurts? My whole life people have told all I am is needy and annoying and hearing it from you made it all the worse. You never told me any of the crap but I guess you never expressed your true thoughts.” Lucifer now dropping the bouquet of flowers and rushing to wipe the tears that have started to fall from your eyes.

Believe it or not in that moment the Avatar of Pride was panicking, the strong, mighty, calm and collected brother was in a panic over a human’s state of emotional stress. Who would have thought, certainly not Lucifer. Not knowing how to react he just kisses you. He pours all the feelings he has for you, every thought of you, every single meaning he has felt for you into that kiss because words could never describe your relationship. Art could never show how much he cared for you. Hell if he could he would ask Leanardo da Vinci or Michelangelo to paint the love you share.

You are no longer trying to get out of his grasp, you have your hands entangled in his hair and wishing the moment would never end as it was the best kiss you’ve ever received. Now letting go for air you look into his glossy eyes and Lucifer saya “MC I didn’t mean any of that and if I had known you had gone through that pain in the human world I would’ve come and kept you to myself all those years ago.” pausing to see if there was still any anger in your eyes he said “I love you.”

Being held in Lucifer’s arms was always something you loved but it felt even better as he held you tenderly, holding you as if he let you go you would walk out on him. “I love you to Luci. I understand you are busy with work but remember to take a break and take care of yourself for once. Ok?” “Will do MC, now let’s not waste any time or else our dinner will get cold.” Now looking over to your right and you see the beautiful meal still warm waiting for you. At the thought of food your stomach grumbles Lucifer chuckles “I’m guessing Mammon never took you out to anything?” Looking away shyly now you make your way over to the dinner table. And on the plate was your favourite. Not wanting to waste anytime you wait for Lucifer to sit and dig in. You ate like you hadn’t in days but Lucifer only watched with admiration and love. “Haha, here have some of mine.” Lucifer now holding his fork up to you. You were shocked to say the least, Lucifer never fed you but who were you to decline him. You took the bite with a smile on your face.

The rest of dinner was spent chatting and talking about how much you missed each other even though it was only for a day.

(Oh to be sickly in love with Lucifer)

After dinner Lucifer had gotten up and he reached his hand out to you. Now grasping his hand he pulled you up and held you by your waist and pressed your bodies together. As soon as you two start swaying music plays and now you’re dancing. The feeling of Lucifer’s hand on your lower back makes you tingle and your mind go fuzzy but you start swaying in circles to the music. You have never danced with Lucifer properly or formally so this felt magical and meaningful, the tap of your footsteps on the marble and the feeling of Lucifer leading the dance. This feeling new, something amazing. You felt light as a feather and your imagination made you feel like you were in a ball. A masquerade ball dancing with the man across the room. As the song started to speed up as did you. Now swaying up and down in circles, feet sink, you had a huge grin plastered on your face. Looking up at Lucifer you see him looking so happy, his hand on your waist tightening and his grasp on your hand tender. “Thank you Lucifer, I know how much time this must have taken out of your day. I really appreciate it.” your love and appreciation for him grew as you now thought that's why Mammon had dragged you out of the house. “Anything for you my love.” Lucifer now whispering so you could hear. This image, this moment felt like you were the only people left dancing on top of the world. As the music starts to slow so does your dancing. When the music comes to a stop, it’s only you and Lucifer standing. Who would have thought that love would find you this way.

And yet your evening wasn’t over yet. Now you thought it was time to retire for the night, Lucifer quickly grabbed your hand and when you turned around, there he was in his Demon form. Standing there looking so majestic, his wings fluttering open, his horns coming out and the beautiful mark on his forehead.

(I am an utter simp for Lucifer’s demon form)

“My dear I still have one surprise left for you.” Lucifer now holds his hand out to you once more. “Oh really, you have already done so much for me, what else could you possibly have in store?” Taking his hand, you are suddenly yanked towards Lucifer and he is picking you up in bridal style. “Remember how you wanted to stargaze? Well who needs a telescope when we go see the stars ourselves.” Letting you get comfortable in his arms he asks “Are you ready?” Looking up you can’t contain your excitement so you squeal “Yes!”

Lucifer takes off in one swift jump and suddenly you are soaring through the sky. Going higher and higher as each second passes by. As the sky got closer and the Devildom got further you looked down and the Devildom looked like the night sky now. All the cities and streets are shining beautifully. You never would have thought that demons would have such civilised lives and live almost like humans. You were certainly grateful for the kidnapping of your exchange program. As you slowly came to halt in the air, Lucifer’s wings still flapping slowly and silently. “This is as high as I can take you.” Lucifer says as he hopes this is okay. “This is gorgeous Lucifer, I wish I could see the sky this close in the human world.” your voice barely being able to hold your excitement. “Well maybe we can, I think a vacation is deserved soon. I can also use all those unused vacation days from the last 100 years.” You and Lucifer chuckle. “Yeah that sounds nice Luci” Now just floating in the sky basking in each other’s presence, Lucifer is about to open his mouth but you say “Could we stay like this just for a little longer?”

Lucifer is now holding you and hums as a sign of approval, Lucifer was thinking back to your fight and how reckless he was with his words. He vowed to himself now to be more careful in what he says and always be grateful for your love. As midnight came closer and closer Lucifer finally suggested “We should go back now, I’m sure my brother will ask where we went in the morning.” “Yeah you’re right.” A huge yawn now escaping your lips.

Once you guys reach the House of Lamentation you guys are very quick to get ready for bed and cuddle. After you guys are ready, you get in bed and Lucifer grabs your body from behind and pulls you against his chest. He starts kissing up from your shoulder to your earlobe giving praise to you and saying how amazing you are. He then admits that last night he slept horribly and never wants that to happen again.

“I love you MC.”

“I love you Lucifer, goodnight”

With a sweet kiss to the forehead you both fall asleep.

#obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me x y/n #obey me shall we date #fluff #angst to fluff #obey me headcanons #slight angst #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x reader #obey me brothers

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gryffindorcls · 4 years

Text

The Purr-fect Gift

Summary: Years after the reveal and the start of their relationship, Marinette and Adrien move in together. To her dismay, Adrien has become distant and quiet after the move. Marinette just wants things to return to normal, but Adrien has a surprise for her that will change their lives forever.

Length: 2,894 words This is my Secret Santa present for @luminousinthedark from the APS server! You asked for fluff and romance so cheesy that it would make Plagg question his life choices, so I tried to think of the most romantic thing that could possibly happen between these two dorks. Don't let the beginning fool you....the end is **very fluffy**. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Holidays! :D (A shout-out to my super awesome beta @misscongenialityofmlb for taking a look at this!) — AO3

Fanfiction

Marinette checked the time on her phone for the thousandth time that day, cringed at the numbers on the screen, and repocketed the device. She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to see over the throngs of people blocking her view of the register. Crossing her arms, she began tapping her foot on the hard tiled floor.

“Girl, chill.” Alya rested her hand on her shoulder. “We’re almost to the front. I pre-ordered the new iPhone for Nino, so once we get there, we should be done pretty quickly.”

“Sorry,” Marinette mumbled, taking a peek at her phone screen again.

“You can go if you need to. I really don’t mind waiting by myself.”

“What! No! I promised that I would wait with you. I’m fine.”

Crossing her arms, Alya shot her a disbelieving look. “Uh-huh, and I’m the Queen of England. What’s going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?” Marinette straightened her posture and did her best to smile.

Alya shook her head “I haven’t seen you this jittery in years.”

“Jittery? Me? Pshh, no!” Giving up the ruse, she slumped and groaned. “Is it really that noticeable?”

“Yes, it is. Now spill! What’s going on?”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe you can start with why your eyes have been glued to your phone all morning.”

She shoved her phone into her pocket, feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks. “I’m just a little anxious about getting to lunch with Adrien and Nino on time.”

“Since when are you concerned about being on time? I think the boys know by now that Miss High-Fashion has a tendency to be fashionably late.” Alya put a hand on her arm. “What’s really going on?”

“I don’t even know how to put this. I...I’m worried about my relationship with Adrien.” Marinette buried her face in her hands. “And I don’t know what to do.”

A fire ignited behind Alya’s eyes. “Did he do something to you? Because if he did-”

Marinette waved her hands in front of her. “No! No, it’s nothing like that! It’s just that he’s been a little, what’s the word, distant?”

“How so?”

“Ever since we moved in together he’s barely been home, and right before he left two weeks ago he canceled our plans to decorate our Christmas tree. He was gone all day, and he got home an hour before he had to leave for the airport.”

“Ahh, I see.”

“Yeah, and even though he got back yesterday, I haven’t seen him yet. When he suggested that we all meet up for lunch today, I was kind of hoping that it meant that maybe things would go back to normal.” She threw her hands into the air. “I don’t know. Alya, help me!”

Alya tapped her chin. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“I would, but he’s never around! I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Maybe we’re moving too fast, and it’s scaring him. Or maybe he’s still overwhelmed about the whole...well, you know...reason why we don’t have to transform every day and fight Akumas anymore.”

“I doubt that. He loves you so much. You’d have to be blind to miss it.”

“He’s changed.”

“Marinette, listen to me.” Alya grabbed her shoulders. “If he’s acting weird, it probably has nothing to do with how he feels about you. That boy has been in love with you for years. Are you forgetting that this is the same human you gave a constipation prescription to when we were fourteen? And then he filled it without questioning why you needed it. You weren’t even dating yet, and he was willing to do anything to make you happy.”

“But-”

“No, buts! He loves you. He’s your ‘kitty’ and you’re ‘his lady’. You two are made for each other.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Girl, the sheer number of pictures that I have on the Ladyblog of Chat Noir looking at Ladybug while she’s not looking should be proof enough.” Alya leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper. “And if that doesn’t help, I have a whole folder on my phone of pictures where he’s looking at you outside of the mask.”

“He did once tell me that it was always going to be us against the world.” Marinette shrugged. “Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

Before Alya could answer, Marinette’s phone went off several times in her pocket. She pulled it out, tapped on the notification, and read the text in her inbox.

Adrien: [11:16] Hey there, beautiful.

Adrien: [11:16] Something came up, I can’t make lunch today.

Adrien: [11:16] Sorry

Adrien: [11:17] :(

Her heart dropped. She sighed before typing out a short response.

Marinette: [11:17] no worries

Marinette: [11:17] see you later! <3

“What’s up?” Alya asked, “Are the boys already at the restaurant? Tell them we’ll be there in like thirty minutes. There are only ten people in front of us now.”

Shaking her head, she tried not to cry. “No, Adrien can’t make lunch. He’s just going to meet us back at the apartment later tonight.”

“Hold on." Alya whipped out her phone. "Let me text Nino.”

Marinette hugged herself. The air around her was cold, and she felt so small and alone. How could this be happening to her? Before they moved in together, everything had been fine with her relationship? What changed? Why now? What was she doing wrong?

“So, I texted Nino, and he’s with Adrien. Neither of them will be joining us for lunch.” Alya pulled her into a hug. “But everything is going to be okay. Trust me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“No.” Marinette shook her head. “At least not on purpose.”

“Look, you’re my best friend, and I propose that we have a girls’ day before we meet up with the boys later.” A smile lit up her face. “How would you feel about getting our nails done after the two of us grab a quick lunch?”

Marinette’s sadness was quickly replaced with confusion. “Our nails? At a salon? Since when do we pay for manicures?”

“Since today! So, what do you say?”

She didn’t want to spend another day sulking in her apartment. Perhaps a day out would do her some good.

“I guess that could be fun?” Marinette shrugged. “Just as long as we can grab some cookies for Tikki before we go. She’s been asleep in my bag all morning.”

“Yes!” Alya threw a celebratory fist into the air. “Works for me! Trixx needs some food, too. I’m sure he’d appreciate having something to eat while we get pampered.”

“A little pampering sounds nice.” Marinette looked down at her nails. “Maybe something festive? A bright red? Or sparkles?”

“Yes! That’s the spirit.” Alya slung her arm over her shoulder. “And maybe while we’re at it, we could get our hair and make-up done, too!”

“Wow, nails, hair, and make-up? This is starting to sound like we’re getting ready for a photoshoot, not a night in.”

“Why should model boy have all the fun? Besides, I’m sure he’d love to see you all ‘dolled-up’.”

Marinette laughed and did her best to imagine the smile on Adrien’s face when he finally saw her later that evening.

***

To her delight, Adrien did smile when she walked into their apartment, but it was quickly overshadowed by the hasty hello and peck to the cheek that he gave her before rushing off to the living room. Feeling her heart sink, she hung her coat on a hook and made her way to the couch.

The plan was to decorate their tree with Alya and Nino, but everything that could go wrong went wrong. The lights shorted out when they plugged them in, and at least twelve ornaments shattered when she attempted to hang them.

Adrien didn’t say a word as he cleaned up each little mess she made. He merely smiled and grabbed another ornament for her to put onto the tree. As the night wore on, he moved further and further away and made little to no eye contact with her. He even disappeared into their bedroom several different times.

Just when she thought the universe couldn’t possibly make her day any worse, Marinette managed to burn a batch of Christmas cookies that she’d put in the oven for them to enjoy when they were done decorating.

When the smoke alarm finally stopped beeping and the panic in the kitchen had subsided, Marinette reached her breaking point. How was she supposed to convince Adrien to keep living with her if she kept messing everything up?

Sure the broken ornaments were on par with her usual clumsiness, but burnt cookies? She was a baker’s daughter! Burning cookies was something that just didn’t happen to her anymore.

Unable to hold back her tears any longer, Marinette bolted from the kitchen, ran into the bedroom, and slammed the door behind her. After unceremoniously flopping facefirst onto the bed, she sobbed into a pillow, not caring about ruining her professionally-done make-up.

She’d tried so hard to make tonight perfect, but of course, she wasn’t even capable of making it okay. Even after she’d calmed down a little, Marinette cringed at the idea of rejoining the group. She wasn’t ready to see the look of disappointment on her boyfriend’s face.

If he didn't before, he definitely regretted asking her to move in with him now.

A knock at the door sent her flying towards the tissue box on her nightstand. There was no way she was letting anyone see her like this. Especially not…

“Hey, Marinette?” Adrien...of course, it was Adrien. “Can I come in?”

His voice sounded so unsure, and it immediately broke down her resolve. “Sure.”

She hastily wiped her hands at her face as the knob turned and the door slowly creaked open. Adrien poked his head in, locked eyes with her, rushed to her side, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Oh, love.” His hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Please tell me what’s wrong. What can I do to make it better? Is it the cookies? Because we can just make a new batch. It’s okay.”

“Everything.” The floodgates opened, and Marinette buried her face into his chest, sobs racking her body once again. “I messed everything up! I know that you probably regret moving in together, and I was hoping that I could change your mind tonight, but I failed.”

Adrien pulled away, his eyes filled with concern. “Marinette, what are you talking about?”

“Y-you’ve been avoiding me, and I get that this was a big step and that you might not have been ready…”

He cut her off. “What? Marinette, no! Moving in with you was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. What made you think something like that?”

“Well, I barely saw you before you left, and you keep making excuses to not hang out or be in the apartment. Please don’t hide how you feel from me.” She sniffled. “It’ll hurt, but I’ll be okay.”

“Marinette…” He grabbed her shoulders and shook his head. “I love living with you.”

“Please.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I just need to hear the truth.”

“But I am telling you the truth. I don’t regret any part of our relationship. If anything, you’re the reason I’ve made it through all of this insanity the past few years. I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn’t want to live with you anymore.” He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. “I actually feel quite the opposite.”

The feeling of hopelessness began to ebb away under his unwavering gaze. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Then why do you keep disappearing all the time? We’ve barely seen each other in weeks.”

“Oh, uhhh, right.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a really good reason for that.”

He pushed himself off of the bed and made his way over to the dresser. After fumbling around one of the drawers, he pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box topped with a sparkling golden bow.

“I had this custom made for you, and there was a problem with my order. I was trying to take care of the issue the day I left. That’s why I canceled all of our plans.” He held out the box for her to take.

Marinette took the box and examined it.

He sat back down on the bed and clasped his hands in his lap. “I was going to give it to you while we were decorating the tree, but I got kind of nervous.”

“Is that why you kept avoiding me tonight?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Why? I love everything you give me.”

“This is just...really special, and I wanted the moment to be purr-fect.”

She giggled. “A cat pun...really? I thought we were having a serious moment, Chaton.”

“Well, it made you smile, didn’t it?” He reached up and brushed a stray hair away from her face. “I want to look back and say that you were smiling when I gave this to you.”

“This must really be some gift.”

“It is.”

“What is it?”

“How about you open it and find out.” She turned the box a few times until she found the tape holding it together. She carefully removed the outer wrapping and pulled out a small, plain cardboard box with a lid. Marinette took off the lid to reveal an elegant black velvet box with a small silver clasp. It fit in the palm of her hand, and the more she stared at it, the more things began to make sense.

“Adrien, is this…” The words died on her lips when she looked up to find her boyfriend on one knee.

He took the box out of her hands, opened it, and turned it around, putting its contents on display. In all her years of dreaming about this moment, the ring he’d chosen was more beautiful than anything she’d ever imagined. She was left breathless as she watched the ring’s three stones sparkle under the glow of the ceiling lamp.

Knowing what was coming, her heart pounded against her chest. Her head was swimming amongst the clouds, and the colors around her suddenly seemed brighter and more vibrant. Her nightmare had turned into a dream–a beautiful, wonderful, and surreal dream.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you are the light and love of my life.” The happiness radiating off of him was palpable. “When you dropped into my life, you filled a void I didn’t even know was there. You stayed by my side through every bump and struggle with nothing less than unwavering encouragement and love. Without even trying, you helped me grow into the person I am today. You accept me for all that I am, and I can’t even begin to thank you for that. I love you more than anything, and I want to build a life with you. I want to grow old with you, get a hamster, have children...I want it all.”

“Adrien…” Her hands were covering her mouth.

He took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

Marinette launched herself off of the bed and tackled Adrien to the ground in a crushing hug. “YES! YES! OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING! YES!”

Now it was his turn to cry. “Wait, really?”

“I have been dreaming about marrying you for thirteen years!”

“But...that’s when we met.”

“And when I fell in love with you.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“My amazing, Chaton...Adrien, I love you so much.” She held his face in her hands. “I would love nothing more than to marry you.”

Before she had time to react, his lips were on hers. She slid off the bed, sunk to the floor, and erased the remaining space between them. Her hands were in his hair, desperate to feel him even closer. All too soon, they pulled away, gasping for air.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you, my lady. You’ve made me the happiest cat in the world.”

She leaned in and kissed him again. This time, it was a chaste peck on his lips that she knew left him wanting more.

“Marinette, no,” he whined, “come back.”

“I will," she said with a teasing lilt, “as soon as you finish what you started.”

“What?”

“Or do I have to put the ring on myself?”

“Of course not. Your hand, my lady?” He picked the box up off of the ground, plucked the ring out of the cushion, and slipped it onto her finger.

And just like that, all was right with the world. She always knew that she and Adrien were a forever kind of thing, but before today, it always felt abstract. Now, it was more than a daydream. It was their future, and it was real.

They kissed again and again until their lips were chapped and their cheeks hurt from smiling. Sooner than they would have liked, they decided to rejoin their friends; however, before she shut out the light and walked out of the room, she stopped to admire the ring once more.

It was a perfect fit...just like them.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #my fic #the purr-fect gift #adrienette #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #the end is so fluffy #these dorks are so in love #post reveal #established relationship #secret santa #holiday fic #Christmas fic

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levis-hazelnut · 3 years

Text

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): I don’t think there are any in this chapter. But, please do tell me if there are any.

Taglist (closed!): @castellandiangelo

Status: completed!

part 3 > part 4 > part 5

series masterlist

My elbow was propped up on the table with my head in my palm as I flicked around the fruit in my bowl with a fork. I was home alone since Hanji went out somewhere and I had nothing to do. Yeah, the weather was pleasant but I didn't feel like going out even though it's a Saturday. I just wanted to roll myself into a ball in a corner and slowly die. What's the reason for my misery? Well, you probably don't even care, but I'll tell you anyway. So, you know how I told Petra that she can take away my Levi, yes, he's my Levi. Whatever. So, of course, since I'm such a great friend, I started to try and get them to hang out more and more, while I tried to fight away my feelings. The feelings that try and consume me every time I see that stupidly sexy face of his.

Before I start fantasising about him, I'll carry on... So, they seem to get along well since Levi prefers normal people, unlike myself and my other friends. He still hangs out with me, but just not as much as before and I truly think he's catching feelings for her. Oh, I should also mention that this has been going on for three months so it's definitely possible for that to happen. Like I basically fell in love with him as soon as I saw him. Well, who cares about me and my feelings? I know Levi doesn't (well, he tries to care for me but I push him away as the idiot I am).

And that's essentially the reason why I want to die in a corner. They both better thank me when they get together otherwise I will straight up trash every single one of their dates. I'm an idiot. I'm stupid. I'm a poor excuse of-- "You aren't an idiot, you're a weirdo. Don't forget that." Tch. His dumb voice is trying to slither into my brain. Can't I at least finish my self-loathe session? So inconsiderate. "Ugh, why am I annoyed at him for something I caused? I'm truly a horrible being," I muttered to no one in particular before groaning when I reached for my phone that buzzed in my ears. "What?" I spat when I answered, not even reading the caller ID. "Good afternoon to you, too, darlin'. What's wrong with you?" Oh, it's my favourite person ever... "What do you want, Ackerman?" I asked with a bitter tone. "First of all, I want an explanation." "For what?" "Why are you acting like this? You've been moping around for the past couple of fucking months. What's going on?" "... Nothing. What's the other thing you want?" "I haven't gotten an explanation yet." "Levi, please, just forget about it." My tone showed that I just wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible. I heard a sigh before hushed words sounded. "(Y/N), I'm going to come to your apartment and hold you at gunpoint if you don't tell me." "Sure, do whatever, but I'm still not going to tell you." "You're fucking crazy." Yeah, I know. That's why you prefer Petra over me, I thought. "I know. Can you leave me alone now?" "... The other thing I wanted to ask is if I could come over later." "Why? Are you actually going to hold me at gunpoint?" I asked sarcastically. Another sigh sounded. "We've barely hung out recently and it sounds like you're going to start crying any moment, so I'll come and keep you company. Also, we have that assignment to do." Why do you have to be such a softy? Just when I was getting annoyed with you, you decide to be a Prince Charming. "Fine. What time are you coming?" "Is three fine?" I glanced at the time and saw that it was already two o'clock. "Yep. I'll see you later." "Bye." ~/~ Levi and I sat at the small, round dining table with both of our laptops open as we worked on the assignment together. We let Lo-Fi play quietly as background noise and we often spoke - either to distract ourselves from the boring shit we were doing, or to help each other. As he said, Levi had a come a few minutes before three o'clock and after trying to get me to tell what happened, he decided it was futile and suggested we start working. Since I had nothing else to do apart from dying, I agreed.

As he cleared the table and put his things on the surface, I got whatever snacks we had and placed them in the middle of the table. I also made Levi a tea and myself - a coffee before we sat down and started. I wasn't really in the mood for anyone. I didn't even want Levi to be here when he first arrived, but now I don't mind since he gives me good company. After about an hour, Levi suddenly decided to get up so I averted my eyes from the laptop screen to question what was wrong.

And his answer?

Girl, get ready for this. You're going to burst into tears for me. "... I'm going on a date with Petra." There it is. The reason why I wanted to just breakdown and die in a hole. Levi is going on a fucking date with Petra. Levi is going on a fucking date with Petra. Levi is going on a fucking date with Petra. Levi is going on a fucking date with Petra. Levi is going on a fucking date with Petra. Those words kept on repeating in my mind like some kind of incantation as he packed his things away and slipped his jacket on before grabbing his phone. Soon, I knocked out of my trance and looked up at him before standing up. "... Petra?" "I asked her out yesterday." "You did?" I squeaked out, assuming that Petra would have been the one to ask him out. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll see you on Monday." "Okay. Bye." Being a good host, I walked him to the door and waited for him to put his shoes on before closing the door once he left. (Y/N), don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry. He's just a boy... A boy that's a damn Adonis, and has hair I want to tangle my fingers in, and eyes I could stare into all day, and a nose that's just so boopable, and a jaw that could slice me, and lips that I wish I could feel on mine, and a body that looks better than any athlete... Yeah, he's just a boy... that I'm going to fall in love with. Hey, does anyone know a good suicide method that leads to certain death? No? Okay. ~/~ "(Y/N)? Are you home?" "... Yes," I muttered as I laid on the soft carpet in the living room with my cheek pressed against it. "Why are you... on the floor?" Hanji inquired with clear confusion written on her face. "I need help: I want to cry, but my eyes won't even fucking water. I want to die, but I still have a long life ahead of me. I want to sleep, but I'm not even tired. I want to--" "Okay, okay. What's going on?" my bestie questioned and crouched down. "Why are you like this?" I turned my face so it could hide in the carpet. I don't care if I would get spots from stuffing my face in it, I just needed something to comfort me and this was my solution. "Levi and Petra are going on a date today," I spoke into the material and I could almost imagine Hanji's shocked face. You see, I never told her about my stupid promise. "Sorry?" "Levi, aka the love of my life, asked Petra out yesterday.." "Oh, (Y/N)..." I could hear the pity in her voice. "How did this happen?" "Because of my dumb ass." I explained the rest of the story to Hanji, though my words were muffled since I was still giving mouth to mouth resuscitation to the rug. But I know she heard every single word I said. "You know I would never say this to you, but you're a fucking idiot." "Yeah, I know." "You aren't an idiot, you're a weirdo. Don't forget that." "Tch. I can't even stop thinking about him and his shitty words," I mumbled, making sure that my words were inaudible to Hanji since she would ask what I was going on about. "You should've asked him out." "But that would've looked bad after I told Petra I'd help her." "Well, I don't know why you didn't ask him out before. It's already been five months since he first came, and you haven't done anything." "The first month, Eren didn't let me. And the second month is when Petra asked me to help her, so I couldn't do anything for the other three months." "Okay... Petra is a sweet girl with a kind heart, and she deserves someone to make her happy. But, you've basically been married to him since you were thirteen, or however old we were when we made him up. You can't let others take him away from you. I'm sorry, (Y/N), but you truly are an idiot." "I understand that, Hanji. Don't make me hate myself more than I already do." "So, what do you plan to do now?" "I don't know," I sighed before finally sitting up, cross-legged on the floor. "I can't really do anything about it... Hanji, what if they end up getting married?" "... It's only one date. And it may lead to many others, but we never know if they'll get that far." I huffed once again and stared at the ground. Tears still wouldn't fall. And a couple of hours later, I found the kind of comfort I needed. I didn't need words, I just needed warmth in the arms of someone that cares about me and loves me. My face was buried in the crook of Eren's neck as his arms tightened around my form as we laid down on the sofa. I rested on top of him as he tucked my head under his chin and fiddled with my hair.

No words were spoken, none were needed. And he knew that whenever I felt better, I would tell him what happened. But, for now, he would hold me and comfort me. I seriously don't know what I would do without him. He's always been there for me (if Hanji was unable to) and he always manages to get me back to my normal self. But who knows if it will work this time? We stayed in that position for maybe just less than an hour before I sat up and drifted my fingers through my hair with a heavy sigh. Eren also sat up and I could see him looking at me from my peripheral vision, so I turned to face him. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" "... Yeah...” I sighed before explaining everything to him. "... Oh," was all that came out of his mouth before he embraced me once more. "What do I do?" I whispered, and anyone would be able to hear the obvious pain in my voice. "I'm sorry, but I don't know, (Y/N). Just distract yourself. Moping around won't do anything." "I know. But I don't even feel like going anywhere. Or doing anything." "Come on. Don't just dwell on it, do something to take it off your mind. Have a shower, or sleep, or anything to help you." "Hanji's in the shower. I'm not tired. I don't know what else I could do." "(Y/N), I don't like seeing you like this," Eren muttered and gripped my shoulders to pull me away from the embrace. "It's one guy--" "Yeah, one guy that happened to be someone me and Hanji made up. And he happened to like someone else." "Well, why did you make up someone so attractive?" "Eren, this is not my fault, so shut up. How the hell was I supposed to know that he was going to be real?" He bit back a chuckle. "Sorry." "... Please tell me what's so funny?" "You're just adorable when you're angry. Well, when you aren't angry with me." I huffed and flopped back against the cushion of the sofa, hoping it could suck me in. ~/~ On the way to university, I stopped by my favourite cafe and grabbed a coffee before continuing my journey. Wondering why I'm not rushing or tired? Well, that's because my first lecture is at two o'clock so I had the right amount of sleep, and didn't have to force myself to get out of bed or rush. However, I wasn't looking forward to going since two people are going to be there, and I don't feel interacting with them. If you haven't guessed who I'm talking about, the two people are Levi and Petra. As I wandered through the building to get to the lecture hall, I spotted Petra talking to Historia and decided to walk in a different direction. When I turned around, taking a sip of my coffee, I bumped into someone which caused me to choke on the beverage. I patted my chest as I coughed before silencing and looking at the person I accidentally collided against. Of all people... "Hey, darlin'." "You sure you still want to call me that now even though you have a girlfriend?" I muttered and he lifted an eyebrow my way. "Why do you look so confused? Have you already forgotten about Petra?" "Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. You're still in a bad mood?" "Yeah, I am. And don't even think about questioning me about it. I have a lecture to go to." "Hold up." He took hold of my forearm and I tried yanking myself out of his grip but it was futile. His grip was strong, but it wasn't painful. "We still have five minutes until we have to be there." "... So? Don't you think I should be early for once?" "Fine. But let's walk together--" "Levi!" Oh, I knew exactly whose voice that belonged to. Why am I annoyed at her? She didn't do anything wrong. I need to stop blaming others for the things I caused. "Hi, Levi!" Petra beamed and she pecked his cheek as I slowly felt the raven's grip on me loosen, allowing me to free myself. "Hi, (Y/N)." "Hey," I smiled. Damn, my smile was more fake than propaganda. "I heard you went on a date with Levi. How was it?" I asked, shooting a glance to the male to see that his eyes were on me. "I'm going to borrow your girlfriend for a second." "Sure," he replied as Petra walked beside me, going through random corridors as we spoke. "So, where did you go?" "Well, we went to the cinema first, and then, a small restaurant." "Did he initiate anything?" I smirked, trying to be a teenager that loves gossip. "Um... He gave me a small kiss on the lips when he dropped me home. It was very brief though, almost like a peck." "That's great! That obviously means he had a great time. Did you have fun?" "Yes. Thank you so much, (Y/N). I owe you so much." "Oh, no, it's fine. It's just a favour for an awesome friend." She smiled at me as we made our way back to Levi, finding him standing in the exact same spot. He noticed the smile on my lips but didn't say anything when Petra told him that she has to head to her next lecture. She waved at both of us as I started walking. "(Y/N)?" "What?" I said with exasperation. "Where's that smile gone?" "Levi," I started and turned around to face him. "You don't understand how much I'm trying to stay calm right now. But if you ask me one more question, you'll regret it. All you need to know is that I'm going through something and I don't want to talk about it at all." He simply sighed and nodded as we proceeded to go to our lecture in silence. When I walked in after Levi, I felt someone tousle my hair so I turned around to see Jean, who winked at me. Oh, yeah, I also didn't speak to Jean about getting over me and whatever-whatever. I'm only human, okay? I can't deal with so many things when I have so much on my mind. "Hey, babe." "I already told you not to call me that millions of times." "What's wrong with you?" 3... 2... 1... and... "I've had enough of this... Everyone can just take their fucking noses out of my fucking business! It has nothing to do with you and I have no intention of sharing it with you! Just leave me alone, you fucking assholes!" There it is. The eruption. I barged past Jean and stormed down the corridor as I heard Levi and Jean call me. For fuck's sake. What part of my outburst did they not understand? I do not wish to talk about it and I don't want them commenting on my mood. Just let me be. I slammed the door of the bathroom open, frightening someone I paid no attention to as I leaned against the wall of the bathroom and gazed at the floor. I didn't care about hygiene right now, I just needed some space. "(Y/N)?" I guess I won't be having that, I thought before I looked up to find Hanji there. Gosh, I was so grateful to see her, so I threw myself at her. "What happened? Don't you have a lecture right now?" "Yeah, I do. But people are just pissing me off," I spoke into her chest and I felt her hand pat my back. I parted from the hug and she looked at me questioningly. So, obviously I told her what happened earlier. It wasn't anything big, but I just needed to vent. "(Y/N), you've looked so hurt the past couple of days, or even the past couple of months, and I hate to see you like this. You either cut off ties with both of them or try and keep your feelings away." "I can't do either of those." "Then, you won't be able to fix yourself. Get over the fact that Levi has a potential girlfriend, who is not you. We never know what's in the future so suck it up and be a man,” she said. I fought back a smile that tried to etch onto my lips before giving up and letting it spread across my face. Hanji grinned because she saw I was in a better mood. "Now, get back to your lecture. Who's your professor for this lecture?" "Mike." "Oh, he won't care if you walk in late. Go." I was about to leave, but I looked back and gave Hanji another smile. "Thank you, Hanji." "No problem!" I entered the lecture hall, avoiding the stares from Jean and Levi as I went to sit next to Historia, who grinned up at me. I gave a smile in return and paid attention to the lecture straight away, not wanting any distractions. I kept any negative thoughts out of my mind and focused on my education. Both males that I shouted at didn't try to speak to me for the rest of the day and I was glad about that because when I shouted at them earlier, that was just me getting a little angry. So, if they attempted to talk to me, I would literally explode and say things that shouldn't be repeated. Now, I was at home with Hanji, talking about crap I was barely paying attention to. "(Y/N)...? (Y/N)?" the brunette called. "(Y/N)!" "Hm...? Oh, sorry." "What's up?" "... I kind of feel bad for shouting at Jean and Levi when they were simply caring for me. But, I'm also still pissed at them for nagging me. And I'm not over the fact that Levi and Petra are dating. Also, I haven't spoken to Jean about the whole moving on thing--" "Stop. You need to forget about everything, it's affecting your mood and your thoughts, and you barely concentrate on anything. If you keep this going, you're only going to get worse." "Hanji... I'm trying. No matter what I'm doing, these thoughts always consume me." "Well, talk to Jean. At least you'll have one less thing to fret about." "Uh, I think I'll wait for him to talk to me because I can't just bring it up out of nowhere after shouting at him." "Okay. Also, just apologise to both of them. Then, all that's going to be on your mind is Levi and Petra," she smiled before her expression contorted into something that seemed as if she was deep in her thoughts. "However, that's the biggest of your problems," she muttered and tapped her chin with an index finger as she stared at the ceiling. "I'll do the other two things, and try and do something about the Levi and Petra thing... Of course, I'm not going to break them up or anything," I quickly added when her eyes slightly widened. "I guess I'm just going to be happy for them, and then be even happier if they ever break up. I sound like such a bitch, but I can't help it." "Be whatever you want, just don't be an idiot and get yourself into another mess like this again." "No promises~" I sang with a smirk. So far, ever since Levi appeared, my life has been nothing but a mess. I don't know if that will ever change, but hey, I can only hope for the best.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #snk #snk fanfiction #snk imagines #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #x reader #reader insert #anime #dream guy #modern au #series #what's a fic without a lil angst?

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