#“your second mistake was attacking my brother” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caxde · 1 year

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unlovable | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you are Dustin’s older sister, you and Eddie used to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but haven't spoke to each other, until your little brother messes things up. (5.3k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, exes! in love, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn exes to lovers, idiots in love!!!, panic attack tw!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

“I told you I don’t wanna hear anything more about it!” You whined once again, as he was still babbling away.

“Oh, get over it!” He finally snapped. “It’s been more than a year!” He screamed at you, not with anger, but with resignation in his voice.

“Don’t…”

“I… Look… You only have to drive me there, you can go later, I’ll call you when I need to come back and I’ll make sure you don’t even cross paths with him… Please?” His eyes looked through his eyebrows, begging, needing a yes.

“Dust…” You try to change his mind once again, knowing damn well that he had won, once again. “Okay…” As your hands rested on your side in full resignation, his went up in celebration, smiling and screaming thank you, thank you.

How could you say no to him? It wasn’t your fault that he had grown so fond of him while you two were dating, and it’s not his fault that you broke things off… Well, you didn’t actually. How could you?

That thought crossed your mind often, how could you? or, in other words how could he? You had loved him like you never had anyone else, and he still couldn’t fight for you two to stay together. When he decided to stay quiet, and grow distant when you needed him close and by your side, it had been his choice.

It’s not like it was your fault, or his. It’s just that sometimes, loving someone is not enough.

And it wasn’t enough, even if it killed you, you needed space to grow, he needed his space anyway. And it was hard, knowing that your brother hung out with him regularly, crossing looks with him when he dropped Dustin off, sadness in his eyes, remorse in yours. It was hard, but it was getting bearable.

You had agreed to be on good terms for Dustin’s sake, so that’s what you did.

The sound of the door closing snapped you back into reality, making you sit up once again, back straighter. Your mirror propped up in front of your bed, you looked at yourself, remembering his touch anywhere the sun kissed your skin.

You took a deep breath, and muttered to yourself okey, let’s do this then. So you did. You stood up, opened your wardrobe and thought what to wear exactly, deciding that if he had to see you, you might as well look good and take yourself out on a date later, perhaps to that new coffee shop that had opened down the street.

Be as it may, you had dressed yourself comfortably enough to not be cold in autumn weather, and you looked at your face once more.

Lipstick, that’s what you needed, it always made you feel good on days you were down, and a little boost is what you needed now.

Dustin was waiting for you downstairs, smile big and bright, with your car keys in his hand.

“You're not driving.” You said to him, coldly, almost mocking him.

“Yeah, I know. Soon enough though!” He screamed back cheerfully. You nodded in response as you unlocked the car.

You didn’t have to ask him where to, you had memorized long ago how to get to his home, even some shortcuts, for when you were a little bit tipsy and didn’t want Hopper to stop you and give you the talk. You smiled at the thought of that, and Dustin seemed to notice, as your right hand left the wheel for just a second to mess with your hair a bit, leaving your face free of cover.

The sun was setting once you parked your car, and the sky shined bright with a beautiful sunset, soft oranges mixing with pink clouds. You had to step out and take a good look at it.

Dustin opened your door for you, he always did, with a big smile he waited for your shy thank you, which you gave accompanied by a little ruffle of his hair. He nudged you with his head, making you both smile as you looked up.

“Hey, thanks for bringing me here.” He said, you could tell that he was being extremely honest.

“Anything for you, kid.” You replayed back, your hands fidgeting with an unlit cigarette. “When do I pick you up?” You asked him, your head lowering to look at him.

“I can bring him back.” Eddie’s voice had appeared, and with it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“Hi” You muttered shyly, as you spun around to look at him.

His hair was as wild as ever, shade so dark it contrasted with his pale skin. Old Iron Maiden shirt with holes in the neck laid perfectly on top of his chest, hugging him in all the right places. Your eyes looked down, checking him out. His jeans still hugged his thighs just as good as you remember. But what you didn’t notice was that he was doing the exact same thing.

He had to take a moment to look at you, the whole you. Your legs crossed over one another, accentuating even more your figure, your arms across your chest, making it a center of his attention, worsened by the fact that your breath had sped up, and your breathing made you move your chest up and down fast. Your exposed neck had made him remember how much he enjoyed biting you, so he ended up biting his own lip when his eyes met yours.

It was the first time you were talking. And so much time had passed.

“Hi” He said back, softly, a smile forming in his lips.

Dustin excused himself to get inside, clumsy, and admiring the fact that you two were actually talking again, he was mesmerized and he obviously spied on you two from the crack of Eddie’s entrance door.

His hand reached in his pocket, lighter coming out, he offered it to you. So you nod as you let your cigarette linger in between your lips, feeling the warmth of the flame as you are at a loss for words.

Not too sure what to say, or do.

“You don’t have to bring him back, I can come and get him…” You say, as your eyes leave the floor and look back up at him, nodding at Dustin’s way. He shrugs in response.

“I don’t mind. And I know you don’t like driving at night.” He answers, with his hands buried in his back pockets.

And maybe it’s the fact that he remembered such a stupid detail, but a soft smile forms on your lips.

“Okay then, thanks.” You answer back. Looking at how much you had left to smoke, knowing that once you finish, so did this conversation. He seemed to understand as much.

“Henderson?” He begged, his eyebrows raised as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Munson?” You answer back, cooly, calmly. Smoke escaping from your lips.

“It really is good to see you.” He admits, smug in his face.

You smile in response, a short nod to him as you inhale again, speaking to him as smoke comes out and he’s lost in you again.

“Yeah, it is.” You smile in response. “I’m a sight to be seen.” You mock, as you make you both chuckle softly, a distance still visible between both of you.

“You've been taking care of yourself?” He asks, a bit of worry could be heard.

“Yeah, I always am, Munson.” You take your final drag as you smile at him, closing your eyes so smoke won’t get inside of them.

“Continue to do so then. You look good.” He whispers the last part, but you always had a good ear, so you nod as you smile and open the door to your car.

“Yeah, so do you.” You say as the engine starts to roar.

“So… You just talked?” Steve laid on your couch, Red-vine in his mouth, pulling it to pieces with his teeth.

“Small talk.” You said, no thoughts behind your eyes, you walked up to him “Move” You told him as you signaled moving your hand side to side. His legs reached the floor.

“Ouch.” He said in response, giving you some of the candy. “Small talk… That hurt?” He asked, eyebrow raised, eyes meeting your calm gaze.

“Not as much as I thought it might.” You admit to him. Your head is finally resting on the couch. Eyes closed as you remember him, and his stupid smile. “Fucker told me “it was good to see me” and that “I looked good.” “ You explain to Steve as you air-quote your way through. The sweet taste of the Red-Vines hitting your tongue.

“Shit.” He said in response. You felt him standing up. “Wanna talk about it?” You opened your eyes, seeing him reach over to the water.

“Noisy.” You tease as you accept the cup. “Not really” You add as an answer to his question.

“O-kay” He said, extending the first syllable. Giving you his blanket as he pulled another one from his side. “So, what’s it gonna be today?”

“Labyrinth?”

“I’m not feeding into your Bowie obsession.”

“M’kay. Goonies?”

“Don’t wanna babysit now.”

“Rude. Okay. You choose then, I don’t wanna think.” You finally let out, the heels of your hands covering your eyes in frustration.

A beat. Steve could be heard messing around the VCR, his jeans ruffling as he moved, until his body laid beside you, his arm cuddling you into his chest, as you finally rested.

Breakfast Club started, and you muttered a thank you.

Steve kissed your forehead.

Steve had always been there for you, thick and thin. Just like you were there when he had a crush on Robin, or even now, when he was falling for Nancy again. Funny enough, you both seemed to be in the same sinking boat. As you usually were.

Your eyelids were starting to feel heavier by the minute, and you were determined to not fall asleep for once, even if you were really, truely, deeply comfortable under the warm blankets.

The movie was about to end, and your eyelids feel heavy. Still, your eyes opened wide as a noisy van parked outside, with blaring loud music as it screeched.

“Munson?” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes while still half asleep.

“Guess so.” You muttered, looking out the window, stretching your arms under the blanket that you were now sharing with Steve.

Sure enough, the long haired boy popped out, helping your brother to jump out of the passenger’s seat, and for what felt for a moment, looked straight at you, a frown appearing in his face. Your eyes left him, as your mouth closed, and minted, you followed Dustin until you heard the door rattling.

“Hey Dust.” You said, your voice raspy from falling half asleep.

“Hey Henderson.” Steve said after you, a hand raised so he could high five.

“Hey” He said back, tiredness coming from his voice. “Going to bed, is that okay?” He asked as he reached the first step of the stairs.

“Yeah, of course.” You smiled at him. He nodded and started to go up. “Good night!” You screamed at him.

“Night!” He yelled back.

“I should go too. It’s late.” Steve said, looking at his wrist watch, you nodded in response as he tore the blanket away from your body.

“I’ll walk you out.” You say, your voice is still raspy. Yawning as you lazily stretch.

He offers you his hand, so he can pull you up, laughing as he does, your feet reach the cold, and you smile. You open the door, and to your surprise, Eddie is still there.

Though you pay him no mind, your eyes meet before hugging Steve goodbye.

“You’ll bring the tape back?” He asks, nodding to the living room, and trying to stall as he sees how nervous you are all of a sudden.

“Yeah, drop it off before work.” You smile.

He winks at you as he hugs you once again, and you both say goodnight.

You’re left there, on your porch, arms crossed on your chest, looking at a speechless Eddie, who just shakes his head in shock at the image of you two together.

“What are you-” He cuts you off, in his voice you notice, he is just as hurt as he is angry.

“You and Harrington?”

“What?”

“Are you serious?” His face flinched as he looked deeper into your eyes, not mad, that might not be the right word, but hurt didn’t make it justice to the way he felt either.

“Eddie, what are you doing here?” You mutter, your arms falling to your side in exhaustion, not really following the reason of his outburst.

“I… Dustin…”

“Yeah, Dustin. Sure.” You were growing cold now. He was doing what he usually did, burying everything that he actually needed or wanted to say, and you resorted to your all ways, though your voice growing tired, you agreed with what he was saying even if you didn’t, avoiding a major fight.

You locked eyes once again. Your arms wrapped with one another, sitting on top of your chest, looking down at him from your porch, as you bite your lower lip. His hands deep in his pockets, shoulders raised, looking up at you, his eyes glistening as he contemplated you, not really sure what he had to say.

“Good Night then, Eddie.” You said, your voice coming out thinner than you had wished.

“Yeah, good night…” He replayed as he stepped back, looking at you as you shutted the door and went back inside. Speechless once again.

Infuriated might be a good word to describe the way you were still feeling weeks later.

You did doubt yourself, and replayed the moment a million times over and over in your head, but everytime you did, you are left with the same thoughts.

Why the Hell did Eddie care if you hung out with Steve?

Steve had always been your friend, and he knew that, shit, even when you used to go out with him, Steve would tag along and eventually became friends with him, Eddie even invited him to some D&D sessions he did. Eddie never had had a problem, or had been jealous, but then again, why do you care so much? You two were nothing. You had been friends. You had been lovers. Now you were just somebody you had once loved.

And if you were honest with yourself, which you tried, you really didn’t feel like it could be spoken out loud, a fear of it being said, making all of this feeling you had materialize into something real, something you weren’t too sure you could be able to live with or act on.

And again, being in a room getting ready with Nancy and Robin just made it all worse.

Not because you disliked them, or didn’t enjoy their company, but because a tiny little voice inside your head was screaming to be heard, and you were only getting quieter, and quieter.

And the fact that Robin was trying to make Nancy speak about her love life in an interest to help Steve was only driving you completely more mad. As if you had no other option but to scream. So ever so subtly you walked over the stereo and made it louder, so some of the noise could be drowned out.

It seemed to work.

At least it did long enough to finish getting ready. Hair was teased where it needed to be, your eyes were decorated with eyeliner and eyeshadow, and your lips, as always, were in blood red.

You were still quiet when you got on the backseat of the car, as you looked through the window, waiting to see which house it was this weekend. Hawkins had little to choose from anyways, and teen parties were an open invitation for everyone.

Downtown, in god-knows-who’s house, you got lost as you usually did when too many things were going on. Overwhelmed didn’t come close to explaining it.

The music felt too loud. The people were too close to one another and to you. They were yelling too. Smoke filled the air enough so the colours were dimmed. You could hardly breath without feeling as your chest was closing. And none of your friends seemed to be there with you.

You needed to get out. As if air was escaping your lungs, your chest felt heavier with every breath you exhaled, a shaking hand grasped your chest, and it took you a while to realize it was your own. You were disoriented, so you ran until you found a safe exit. A backdoor that nobody seemed to be close to.

The cold air hitted you slowly, as your body collapsed on the floor, sitting down the dirty stairs. Your hands searched for your neck, scratching it as you realized, the one who you heard crying was you. The information seemed to come to you backwards.

So maybe that’s why you don’t really register it as it happens.

You do hear a familiar voice, soft and calm, and you feel hands wrapping your wrist, and as your eyes look at them, you see his rings. So when your head travels up to meet his eyes, a soft smiling Eddie is there, whispering something you can’t quite figure out yet.

In this instance, the only thing that you can actually feel is his touch, the contradiction of his rough hands being so soft, the coldness of his rings tracing a pattern on the back of your hands. As soon as one of them leaves yours to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, your attention is now back at him, a soft smile on his lips as he looks deep into your eyes, you feel his fingers slowly find their way on the back of your neck as he begins to whisper.

“Five things you can see.” He tells you slowly, softly, with no evident worry in his voice, even if he’s screaming on the inside.

“Wh- What?” You manage to let out as your breathing is still fast and tears still come out. He just nods and gives you a reassuring smile. You nod in return as you start looking around. “The tree.”

“That’s one.”

“Leaf.”

“That’s two.”

“Trash”

“Okay, three.” He says in between a soft chuckle.

“My…my shoe.”

“One more?” He begs.

“You.” You say as you look at him.

“Four things you can touch.” He says once again, his hand that was on your neck travelling down again to go with his left hand, holding yours tightly and softly at the same time.

“Uh…” You try to not get stressed as you look around, and can’t seem to find anything, until you look down and see his knee touching your leg, and you begin to feel the pressure it leaves back into your body. “Your knee.”

“Mmh.” He nods, as he bites his lower lip. “Go on.”

“My jeans.”

“That’s two.”

“Your hands.” He nods as his fingers stroke your skin. “And your rings.”

“Good.” He says reassuringly. “You’re doing great. Now, three things you can hear.”

“The music.” You spat out, still feeling like it’s loud.

“Yeah..”

“My voice.” He nods again as you blink slowly, regaining a sort of control of your own body, and where you were and what was going on. “And your voice.”

“Two things you can smell? Please?” Your eyes dart back to the ground, an unfinished cigarette still burning.

“The smoke.” You say as you point it. “And you.” You say as your head moves back to him, realizing again, how close he actually was, close enough to remember the way he always smells of sandalwood because he always burns it.

He smiles at you. A true smile, one that lets you know he remembers how you always complained about his room being too smoky because of his fixation with incense, and how you always begged him to open the window just three inches.

“One thing you can taste.” He says now, with his voice sounding as he always did, happy, relaxed, playful.

“Um..” You could say what you wanted to, you wanted to say you, but didn’t dare to do so, so you just looked around, until you saw Eddie reach down on his front pocket and grab two more cigarettes as he offered it to you with a peace-making smile. “That”

“Good.” He mutters as he lights it for you, before his own. You look down as you accept it, taking in the smoke to slowly release it, your shoulders finally relaxing. You feel his arm behind your back, a familiarity in the way he rests invades you again.

“Thank you Edds…” You say, as you look back into his maroon eyes. They shine as they look back at you.

“Anything you need…” He says in response softly. “I didn’t know you still got them.”

“I don’t… Well, it’s been a while since I had one.” You say as you both look at each other. Your eyes looking down at his lips involuntarily. So does he.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see it.” He shakes his head no. “But I’m glad you were here.” You confess, a soft smile forming in your lips before you can avoid it. A moment of true sincerity and vulnerability shared with him.

“D’you wanna go home?” He asks, as he nudges your leg with his knee.

“Nancy’s car so… I’ll just wait out here.” You replay as you nudge his back with your shoulder, his curly hair bouncing as you hit him playfully.

“Nah, I’ll drive you, come on.” He said as he stood up, offering his hand to you so you could stand up.

You know that taking it is a promise, a truce, a trip to the past in a way.

And you don’t care, you don’t care at all.

It was impressive in a way, how it stayed as it always had. It smelt the same, it was in the same neatly organized mess, even the stains seemed to be formed in the same patterns as it did when you came last time.

It was embarrassing to have to be here, but thank god he told you to come over. And you swear you grabbed your keys, and you tried to climb the windows, but your mom had the brillant idea to actually lock them down today, and she was out of town, and you had no idea where Dustin actually was so… In the end, and as he putted, it was better if you slept in his couch than on your porch.

But it did feel weird, or funny. Seeing Wayne’s mugs again, smelling the sandalwood that came from his room, and the little bit of dust that the sofa let out every time the cushions were used or moved.

A year had passed yet time seemed to not affect the Munson household.

“I um… I kept some of your things so…” He said as he emerged back from his room. A smile appeared on your face before you could help it.

“You did?” You asked, looking down at what he was carrying.

“Um, yeah, couldn’t let…” He didn’t finish the sentence, thought he didn’t have to, you couldn’t seem to let go either. In his hands, the shirt you always borrowed, some of your presumed lost underwear, and your backup toilet bag.

“Thank you Edds…” You said for what felt like the millionth time this evening. He shook his head as he gave it to you, and headed to the kitchen.

“You can uh, take a shower or anything you need, I’ll make you some tea yeah?” You nodded, as you saw him smile. “You still like it without milk?” He asked loudly from the kitchen as you passed through.

“Yeah…” You tell him, and as you close the door behind you, you can’t help but whisper. “You remember.”

And the memories keep hitting you as you let the hot water run down your body.

Eddie brushing your hair while he sang under his breath and you followed along. You washing his hair everytime the two of you happen to share the space where you where standing, and how often he would pull you closer when you had to rinse so he would be cold -and how it always ended in moaning and laughter-. You were blushing at the memory, even when you were putting the comfy clothes back on, you remember losing the little thong, and how he threw it away across the room before going down on you.

Hair still wet and slightly knotted, you stepped out to the living room, comfy and warm clothes on.

“Hey Moon..” You say before you realized you called him by his old pet name you used to use. He smiles fondly at that, so your only reaction is to blush as you look back at him. “I um… I couldn’t find the hair brush…”

“Shit yeah, it’s in my room, I’ll get it.” He says as he rushes to find it, you follow him this time, and are shocked to find that he still has a picture of the two of you on his wall. It had always been where your eyes looked first, maybe it was muscle memory at this point. But next to his Corroded Coffin sprayed-old bed sheet, close by his bed, there you were, you were kissing his cheek as he had his arm wrapped around your waist, and he was smiling at the ground.

When Eddie looked back at you, he looked at it too and gave you a coy smile, you smiled big showing your teeth, pink invading your face, just like he had in his.

“You still keep it?” You ask, as you point at it and look back at him, noticing how he anxiously plays with the hairbrush now.

“I yeah… I mean… forget it.” He begins to walk back to the sofa, and he sits down, clearly embarrassed now.

So you did what you always did, you followed him and sat next to him. And maybe it really was muscle memory for him, or just the fact that it all felt like it did before, the tension, the electricity, the care for one another, but he started brushing your hair before you could say anything else, or before he even realized what he was really was doing, but once he did, since he didn’t hear any complaints from you, he just kept going.

“Why do you still have it, Edds?” You ask in a whisper of a voice, because honestly, it felt absurd to talk at a normal volume in such an intimate moment.

“Why do you wanna know that, my love?” my love. It rings in your ears for a second longer. He hasn’t called you that since you left, and hearing his voice say it again, in such a warm tone, only made your skin tingle and fill with soft goosebumps, as wet hair hitted it. You had your back turned to him, and his fingers were cautious to not pull the hair in any way that would hurt you, leaving it softly once that section was brushed.

“I just… please?” You said as you moved a bit to quickly glance at him, a soft smile appearing in his face, his brown eyes looking black since his pupils were bigger than before.

“What do you want me to say…”

You waited in silence, knowing that once he was finished with the last strand of hair you could turn to actually face him, to actually look him in the eyes, to for once, talk things out.

So when you felt the coldness of your wet hair hit the shirt and the back of your neck, and his fingers playfully shaking it a bit, as he used to do it every time he did this for you, you rotated your body slowly, your leg completely touching his, you were both dangerously close to one another, though it didn’t feel like a problem, much to different, in felt good, in felt like it was natural.

With just a little move of your head, he knew you wanted an answer, an honest one at that, so he nodded before he opened his mouth again, looking at you before doing so. His eyes stopping for a second too long on your lips, losing themselves in them for more time than it was allowed.

“I can’t seem to let you go.” He declared, honestly, with his voice shaking. “I regret what I did, I regret not saying anything when I could, I regret not being with you. I regret not loving you as much as you truly deserved to be loved, but I could never, ever regret being with you. You have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, even if you don’t feel the same way about me I…” His eyes were glossy with held-back tears, though he was smiling as he said it all.

Your hand grabbed his, and both of your eyes looked down for a second. Yours stayed there as you began to talk, while he had only had eyes for you.

“I never could regret you Eddie.” You say sincerely. Your voice breaks as you feel everything come up again, trying not to actually cry. “You were… You are everything I’ve ever wanted…” You confess looking back up at him, smiling just as much as you do. “You did love me, I know that, but, by the end, I didn’t feel loved, you made me feel like I was unlovable… And that… That hurt so much.” You declare, breaking down, a few tears escaping, as you meet his sight again.

“I’m sorry, I really am my love. But please, please…” He begged as he squeezed your hand ever so slightly. “Believe me, you are the most lovable person I know, and you deserve everything you want and need, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you… I… I wish I could, I don’t know… I just…”

“What?” You asked as his left thumb whipped a tear out of your cheek, and you buried your face in his palm.

“I wish I could prove it to you now.”

It takes a moment to understand what he is actually saying. And once you do, for once in your life, you take initiative.

Your hand leaves his touch, and travels up his arm until it reaches the back of his neck, his eyes open a bit at that, and you take that as an invitation. You move your body closer to him, so much so that you sit in his lap, pulling him closer, finally, after what felt like an eternity, you kiss him. And even if your heart is beating so fast it feels like it could escape your body, you feel how he is just has nervous as you actually are, not because he hesitates on kissing you back, but because you can actually hear his rapid heartbeat, and you can feel the way his hand grip your body, a long kiss that says I missed you. His arms wrap your waist tightly, yours grab his neck, while your body pushes his back to the couch, grinding as the kiss deepens.

You can feel him smiling as he kisses you just as intensely as you are. And you are smiling just as big.

You need to stop for a second, to actually get your breath back. But you don’t pull back, your forehead touching his, your nails screeching his skin in loving strokes, his fingers rubbing your back in true disbelief.

“Don’t fuck this up again. Please.” You tell him, with your eyes still closed.

“I won’t, I’m not losing you again.”

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference <3

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

Wrong Time

Description: Dean doesn’t know how to act right. Sam doesn’t get the animosity. Reader is just trying to live life. Otherwise known as Mutual Pining: the Fanfic.

Pairing: jealous!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader, platonic!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous dean :), minor angst, spells and other supernatural things, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr like 3 years ago (rip in peace to the like 3k notes it had). then posted to ao3. now it’s back on tumblr.

I walked into the bunker after Sam and Dean, throwing my bag down as soon as my feet hit the floor. I shuffled into the library, noticing Castiel at a table on a laptop.

“How was the hunt?” He looked up at me.

“It was crap,” Dean answered gruffly. I took a chance look at him, and he shot me a glare that could kill. “I’m taking a shower.”

Sam watched his brother stalk past. “I— it was… Fine. I mean, something almost went wrong, but we all ended up okay.”

Cas nodded slowly. Then he noticed my expression. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? You look unwell.”

“It was my fault.”

“(Y/N)—” Sam started.

“No, Sam, I mean— I was stupid. I almost got myself killed. I would have been if Dean didn’t find me first.”

“Still wasn’t your fault, we all make mistakes.”

“What do you mean you almost got killed?” Cas interjected.

I huffed a sigh, sitting next to him. Sam took a seat across from me.

“Well, we walked into the vamp nest, and started going to town. It seemed like it’d be pretty easy to take care of, but then I heard a boy crying. I went to go look for him, and— and I saw him. He was in another room, probably about 15, 16 years old. I didn’t think anything of it and went to go help him, but he… I was wrong. He was turned, just trying to get his prey to come to him, apparently.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “What happened? Are you alright?”

I absentmindedly scratched at the table.

“I am now, I guess. I set down my machete like a fricken idiot, letting my guard down, and he jumped me. I tried grabbing it to fight him off, but he kicked it out of my grip. I thought it was the end of the line until Dean came barging in and got him off me. I was so stupid, he’s pissed.”

Sam reached across, brushing his thumb over the knuckles of my now-closed fist. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got out okay. It was just a mistake.”

“And Dean—,” Cas began, “He is… It will be alright.”

He gave a kind smile as he said this. I tried one back at him before standing up and giving a quick goodnight. As I walked to my room, I hovered by Dean’s door before thinking better of it. I hated when he was angry with me, but figured I better not upset him more by barging in on his alone time. I hated when any of the boys acted coldly towards me, but Dean’s always cut the deepest for some reason. I wouldn’t let myself think on why that is for more than a few seconds, though. I walked to my room, changing into an oversized t-shirt and flopping onto my bed, essentially passing out.

I woke up in a cold sweat, tears wetting my face. I sat straight up, trying to catch my breath. My fingers gripped the sheets as I tried to keep my cool, but to no avail. I got out of bed, walking out of my room, and heading a few doors down. I knocked quietly before entering.

“Hello?” I spoke, voice wavering. I walked towards the sleeping figure, gently nudging his shoulder. “Sam?”

He rolled over, slowly opening his eyes. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

I wrung my hands.

“I— I had a nightmare. I can’t be alone right now,” I said, trying to hold back tears.

“Oh. Oh, okay, yeah, come here,” He replied, sitting up and scooting over. I sat next to him, pulling the covers over my legs as he threw an arm around me. “You alright?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned into him. “It was about the hunt. Except, it wasn’t me. I mean, I still went and found the boy, but, um, when Dean came in this time he— the kid knew somehow, and attacked. I tried helping, but I couldn’t move, and then… Then they, they got him. And it was my fault. He died.”

I noticed a few tears had escaped my eyes, and I rubbed at them quickly.

Sam hugged me into his side. “I’m sorry. That’s really tough.”

I nodded.

He continued, “But, you know, it was just a dream. We all got out, we’re all okay.”

“I know, but what if we didn’t? It would’ve been on me, it would be my fault.”

“There is always a “what if” when we do the things we do, and focusing on that is only going to cause you pain. Don’t do that to yourself,” Sam sighed, laying down and taking me with him. “Dean just needs to let this go, don’t let his attitude make you feel stupid.”

I nodded again. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Now, let’s go to sleep. C’mere.”

He pulled me into his chest, letting the hand that wasn’t around my shoulder rest near my rib cage. I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was waking to Sam’s snoring in my ear. We’d separated during the night, but my head was still against his arm, our legs still caught up together. This put me in a predicament as I tried to move away from him without waking him. I somehow managed to wiggle out of bed, and land on my feet; thankfully Sam was a surprisingly deep sleeper. I tiptoed to the door, slowly and carefully opening it and backing out. I shut it as quietly as I could, and turned around to see Dean walking towards me, looking down at his phone, only a few feet off.

“Morning,” I greeted him.

His steps faltered slightly as he looked up. “Morning.”

His expression changed from tiredness to confusion in an instant. He furrowed his brow, looking at me, then to the door I had just stepped out from.

“I’m making pancakes. If you want some, they’ll be ready in twenty.”

I smiled, nodding a thank you before he squeezed past me towards the kitchen.

‘He’s not mad at me!’ I thought to myself.

I went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. I wrapped a towel around myself, and headed towards my room to get dressed. We had a day in, so I decided on a fresh pair of pajama shorts and another t-shirt. The smell of pancakes drifted through the bunker, and as soon as I stepped out of my door that smell carried me all the way to the kitchen. I stopped in the entrance, watching Dean for a moment. He stood at the stovetop, watching and flipping the pancakes as necessary. I watched the way his arms and shoulders moved until his simple gray tee, and how delicately his hands held the spatula. Then he turned and noticed me.

“Hey,” he said, taking the plate-full to the counter.

He was getting a little scruffy, having not yet shaved since a couple mornings ago. He looked tired, but peaceful. He looked handsome. I chewed my bottom lip, finally stepping into the small room.

“Hey. That smells amazing.”

I walked near him as he grabbed two plates, throwing a few pancakes on each. He handed me one, and we both went to work preparing them with with butter and syrup. I was about to take mine to the table, when his hand shot in front of mine.

“I’ll take these if you want to grab the coffee pot.”

He looked down at me, the sides of his lips just barely tilting up into a smile, and I felt a familiar flutter in my heart.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, then turned quickly to grab the coffee and two mugs, trying to push down that feeling as far as it could go.

I shuffled closer to him as he sat at one side of the table. I placed the mugs in front of the plates, filling each of them and setting the pot at the end of the table. I sat across from Dean, digging in immediately.

“Okay, wow.” I shoved another forkful in my mouth. “These… These are genuinely amazing. You shook cook more often.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I got a few tricks up my sleeve. What about you, though? Anytime you bake anything I lose my mind.”

“Guess I just have that effect on people,” I shrugged laughing.

“Yeah, you’re not kidding.” He smirked and glanced up, locking eyes with me for a moment that felt like forever. I looked away first.

“Um— about… About yesterday, Dean, I—”

He cut me off, throwing a hand up. “Just— Let’s just drop it. Okay?”

I nodded, looking down. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

He took in a deep breath before things went silent for a while. We both were nearly finished when Sam came in the room, as much a morning person as ever.

“Morning, guys!” He smiled.

I couldn’t help but let out half a laugh at his cheerfulness. “You are way too excited in the mornings.”

He smiled my way.

Dean got up abruptly. “I’m gonna go work on Baby.”

As soon as he was out of the room, Sam raised an eyebrow at me. “He always goes out there when he’s upset. Did something happen? You two looked fine when I came in.”

I shook my head. “I tried talking to him about yesterday. Guess that was a mistake.”

Sam’s lips tightened. “Yikes, I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. At least he let me eat his pancakes.” I smiled.

Sam laughed, “Yeah, guess that’s a start.”

We went about our day as usual; Sam worked out and looked up cases, Cas helped with case searches, Dean spent most of his day in the garage, and I decided on a movie marathon. Before long, it was later than I realized and I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

Sam poked his head around the door. “What’s up? You’ve been in your room all day.”

“Oh, no worries. Just a movie marathon. Harry Potter, wanna join?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and fell belly-down on the bed next to me. We watched about half of the 6th movie before we stopped watching altogether. We talked and laughed all night long until we were passed out together. This time, I woke up again to Sam’s gentle snoring, but we were much closer. His right arm was once again under my head, but his left was wrapped tightly around me, and his chest pressed into my back. Admittedly, it was a bit strange, but on a cold morning, not unwelcome. I gently rubbed his forearm, trying to wake him.

“Sammy, get up. You’re trapping me here, pal.”

He groaned sleepily, hugging me just a little tighter before he opened his eyes and realized what he was doing. “Oh crap, I’m sorry.”

I laughed, “Dont worry about it. You were keeping me warm.”

He hummed, “Well in that case, you wanna go back to sleep for a little bit?”

“Fine. Five more minutes and then we get up.”

I giggled as he pulled me back in, nearly squeezing the life out of me for a moment.

“You know, as weird as this is, it feels nice to have a cuddle-buddy,” Sam breathed out.

“Hey, at least it’s nothing too scandalous,” I chuckled, eyes closed.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Castiel’s voice rang through the closed door.

“What do ya need?” I answered back. Then I heard the door open, and looked up.

He started stepping in, but stopped dead in his tracks. “I, uh— Oh. Pardon me, I seem to be interrupting.”

“Cas—” I tried getting his attention but he’d already showed himself out the door. “Crap.”

Sam chuckled, I felt it in his chest. “That’s gonna be a fun one to explain.”

I sighed. “Hopefully he doesn’t go running his mouth so it’s an easy one to explain.”

I laid with him for a few minutes longer before my bladder called for release. “Sam, we gotta get up, man. I gotta pee.”

He groaned. “I don’t want to.”

“Whoa, what happened to happy-go-lucky, I-love-being-up-in-the-mornings Sam?” I half laughed.

“He’s tired,” he grunted out, rolling over.

I flipped to my back as he stole his arm from beneath my head, and sat up. I looked over to see him struggling to get up himself, but my urgency for the bathroom left no time for me to help him up. I bolted out the door to the bathroom and relieved myself, thinking of how to explain to Cas that what he saw was not at all what he thought it was. I ended up back in my room, finding Sam staring into space still sitting on the edge of my bed.

“You alright, Sammy?” I suppressed a smile.

His head shot up. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was zoning out.”

I nodded, throwing a thumb over my shoulder. “You wanna go grab breakfast?”

“That sounds great.”

We left the room together, chatting on our way to the kitchen. Then, I nearly lost balance running into Cas.

“Oh, hey! We wanted to talk to you,” Sam said, tapping Cas’s arm with the back of his hand

He put his hands up, defensively. “No worries. I understand.”

I dragged my hand on the side of my face. “No, but you don’t. I know you caught us looking a little precarious, but trust me, we just fell asleep together. We were watching Harry Potter and passed out.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, okay. I was sure you two were sleeping together.”

I laughed, “Yeah, no. Not by a long shot, man.”

“Alright, well that definitely clears things up for me. I will see you later.”

“Seeya, don’t get into any trouble.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about me,” he smiled, walking past.

Sam and I entered the kitchen soon after, finding Dean alone with a cup of coffee and a computer.

“Morning, sunshine.” Sam joked.

I walked over to him, leaning an arm on the table next to him, peering at the screen. “Found a case?”

He nodded silently, not looking up.

“Well?” Sam pressed, peeling a banana. “Care to enlighten us?”

Deans jaw ticked for a moment before he spoke gruffly, “Looks like a ghost. Strange, but similar, deaths happening at an old motel. So far three of ‘em.”

I took the seat next to him. “Where at?”

He pointed at the screen. “Plainfield, Wisconsin.”

I perked up, grabbing his arm for a moment. “Hey, that’s where Ed Gein committed all his murders!”

“Dude, yeah!” Sam joined in. “That guy was messed up.”

Dean huffed. “Well aren’t you two just perfect for each other. Be ready in half an hour.”

He got up, slamming the laptop shut and stalking out of the room.

I looked to Sam, confused. “What the hell is his problem?”

He shook his head, “No clue.”

I shook my head, slightly irritated. “Guess we gotta go get ready now.”

I walked out of the kitchen, going in the direction of my room. I stepped inside, pulling a duffel bad from my closet and throwing in at least enough clothes for a week, not knowing how long we’d be gone. After I was packed, I decided on a quick shower. I put my hair up into a topknot so I wouldn’t have to wash and dry it, and took the fastest shower I could. I finished getting ready a few minutes early, and grabbed all my things. I was going to throw it all in the car and wait for the boys, until my irritation got the best of me. I walked to Dean’s room, knocking on the door.

He answered harshly, “What.”

“It’s me, can I come in.”

“I guess.”

I flung the door open to find Dean standing there in the midst of getting dresssed. He was at his closet, so far only having his jeans and a tight-fit tee on, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that I couldn’t catch my breath for a moment. How in the world could he look so good rocking the simplest of things?

He pulled a flannel of a hanger, the deep red one that I liked. “What do you need?”

“I want to know what’s wrong.”

He turned to face me, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Nothing. Is that all?”

I crossed my arms. “You may do a lot of lying for the job, but you’re kind of the worst at it sometimes.”

He shot me a glance, unenthused. “Nothing is wrong. Let’s move on. We got stuff to do.”

“Dean.”

“(Y/N),” he shot back, staring for a second before going about his business.

I clenched my jaw. “I’m gonna find out sooner or later.”

He huffed out, almost a laugh, as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah. Sure.”

I turned on my heel, leaving the room, everything in me fighting against my urge to slam the door behind me. He really knew how to push my buttons, more than anyone else sometimes. The boys were finally ready and came out into the garage where I was waiting. I pushed myself off the side of the impala, getting in the car. Dean flew out of the garage, heading straight for the highway. Most of the car ride was silent, only the faint sounds of Dean’s music over the speakers. Then he had to open his mouth.

“So, you two are sleeping together now, huh?”

I almost choked, head whipping to the side to look at Sam. He did the same, glancing at me, confusion set in his face.

“What? Dean, no, why—”

“You two seemed to be getting pretty cozy the past couple nights,” he answered back, staring straight at the road.

I scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“I saw you coming out of his room yesterday morning, (Y/N), don’t act dumb. And Cas told me he walked in on you all over each other this morning.”

“That was not what was happening. We saw him this morning and explained it all. We just fell asleep watching a movie together.”

“And the night before?”

Sam spoke up, “(Y/N) had a nightmare, Dean. She couldn’t be alone.”

“What, so you slept together?” His hands held tightly to the steering wheel.

“Yes, and that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing more, we don’t feel like that about each other.”

He bitterly laughed. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Dean, seriously.”

“Fine. We’ll drop it.”

I huffed out a breath. “Thank you.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. We only made one or two stops for gas and bathroom breaks. It took us about 10 hours before we arrived in Plainfield and searched for a place to stay the night. We finally found a little motel just outside of town, and booked a room. Luckily, a pull-out couch was included so I wouldn’t have to give Dean more ideas about Sam and I, and I wouldn’t have to spend the night beside someone who was pissed at me for no reason. I walked in the room to find it perfectly adequate. and I threw my bag down on the floor, beginning to open up the pull-out.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked as he came inside. “I can take that, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not making you take the couch, Sam.”

“It pulls out into a bed at least. And you aren’t making me if I’m offering. Now, move your crap.”

He nodded at my duffel.

I sighed as dramatically as I could, “Fine.”

“So dramatic.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, I gotta be sometimes. Thank you, though.”

I pulled my bag away, walking to the far bed as throwing it down. I began unzipping it when I heard the thud of Dean’s duffel hitting the second bed behind me. I turned.

“What are we doing first?”

He glanced up at me. “Thought we’d check out the murder scene early tomorrow.”

“Alright. All three of us need to get dressed up?”

“Whoever wants to go.” He shrugged.

“I think I’ll hang back and do some more research on the town and possible leads, if that’s okay with you guys,” Sam said, setting his laptop on the small table in the room.

“Okay,” Dean answered, pulling out his ‘FBI’ suit to hang.

We went to bed, all exhausted from the trip. I woke up at 7 the next morning to Dean’s alarm blaring. We all ate a quick breakfast before getting ready to leave. I grabbed my suit, heading to the bathroom to change, and kicking myself for not being the one to stay at the motel. I didn’t know how I’d handle being alone with Dean, especially when he was in a mood. I changed quickly, making sure I looked professional enough to fool whoever we’d have to get past. I stepped out to see that Dean had already left the room.

I looked to Sam who had already got his computer up and running. “Where’d he go?”

“Waiting by the car outside,” he said, not looking up.

“Thanks.”

I walked across the room, stepping outside. Dean stood leaning against ththe impala, his back to me as I made my way over.

He heard my footsteps and turned. “Took you long enough.”

I stopped for a moment. Wow, he looks amazing right now.

“Gonna get in?” He asked.

“Oh. Yeah.”

I shook my head, opening the passenger door and sliding inside. He started up the car, and took off out of the parking lot.

“So,” he started, “you’re not sleeping together?”

“Dean. Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Can’t blame me for thinking so, you two spend a lot of time together.”

I looked over at him. “Yeah, that’s kind of what friends do.”

“We don’t do that.” He shot me a quick glance, raising an eyebrow.

“Give me a time and place and we will, then.”

He tried to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. “Yeah, sure.”

“What? Don’t want rumors spreading about me and you?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t want those rumors.”

“Who said that?” I furrowed my brows, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards.

He smiled at me. Butterflies, again.

We drove a few more minutes into town before we reached our destination. I peered at the building through the windshield as we drove up. It was creepy. Caution tape everywhere, the old run-down motel, the cloudy skies; it looked straight out of a horror movie. Dean parked the car, and we got out, walking to the police officer that was waiting on his team inside. We flashed him our badges and he let us past.

“I’m surprised no murders happened here before this,” Dean said quietly, leaning in.

I laughed. “Yeah, not the nicest of places for sure.”

He hummed in agreement. “Let’s see if we got any Casper activity.”

He took out his EMF detector, walking around the room, being careful not to step in any of the dried blood. He took a lap; no readings.

“Huh. Nothing here.”

I glanced around. “What the hell would’ve done all of this though?”

“Dunno. Judging by how all of the blood left their bodies and ended up friggen everywhere else, I could’ve sworn it would be one of those suckers.”

I nodded. “Wanna try to hospital?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

We spent the day gathering as many clues and evidence as we could, to no avail. By nightfall, we decided to call it a day and head back to our room. We got inside to find Sam taking a nap.

Dean whispered to me, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

I nodded. He went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I decided to get dressed in something more comfortable and landed on a pair of sweats and a plain t-shirt. Can’t get more laid back than that.

I sat on my bed for a moment before I heard Sam moving around. I looked his way as he opened his eyes.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” I said.

He smiled. “Hey. You guys find anything useful?”

“Figure it’s probably not a ghost. Other than that, nope.”

“Mm.” He sat up, stretching before he stood. He walked over to me, taking a seat by my side and swinging an arm over my shoulders. “I didn’t find anything either. Not even connections between the people who died.”

“So weird.”

He agreed, falling back on the bed and taking me down with him. “Yeah. I’m sure something will turn up, though. It has to.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You wanna go out tonight?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m beat. I didn’t get my nap today.” I laughed.

He snorted, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re no fun.”

Then we heard the door open, Dean stepped out.

“What about you? You wanna go out tonight?” Sam asked him.

“I’m good,” he said without so much as a glance our way.

Sam sat up. “Man, both of you? Since when am I the one to go out alone?”

I chuckled, sitting up next to him. “Since now, apparently. Go, though! Have fun enough for all of us.” I nudged his shoulder.

He shrugged getting up to get ready. Then I heard the tv switch on, and looked over to Dean. There he sat, on his bed, flipping through channels.

“What are you gonna watch?” I asked.

He stared silently at the tv and shrugged. Here we go again.

I heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling out my phone to fiddle on. Sam came out of the bathroom with a new shirt on, and what smelled like a little bit of cologne. I looked up from my device as he pulled his shoes on.

“Who are you trying to impress, sir?”

He smirked. “We’ll have to find out. I’ll see you guys later.”

He left the room, leaving me and Dean to ourselves. I looked over at him again as he settled on an old comedy. He noticed.

“What?” He asked, eyes still unmoving from the movie.

“Your attitude is what.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

I scoffed. “Oh, sure. We were fine working the case today, and now you’re acting like I stole all of your leftovers or something.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Funny how you keep saying that, and then end up in the same crappy mood again. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

“I can’t.” He grew impatient.

“Yes, you can.”

He sat up, finally looking at me. “No. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I just can’t. It’s stupid, you wouldn’t understand it.”

He stared at me.

“Maybe I would if you’d just talk to me!” My voice raised slightly.

“Why do you even care?” His voice raised to match mine.

“Why do you think? I care about you, and I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what is the problem?” I leaned forward, searching his face for an answer.

He sighed, voice lowering. “Can we— maybe we can talk about it tomorrow. Just— not tonight, please.”

I shrunk back. “Fine. Promise me.”

He tilted his head with a blank stare.

“I’m serious, Dean. Promise me.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I promise. You’re a pain, you know that?”

I shrugged. “You’ll get over it.”

He stared for a moment, my heart fluttering until he looked away again. He laid down, turning off the tv. I laid back too, turning off the lights.

“Goodnight,” he said, turning over.

“Goodnight.”

I woke up to sunlight hitting my face through the window. I glanced towards the couch; no Sam. Then my eyes went to Dean. He was still sleeping. I watched him for a moment; he looked so at peace. The lines in his face were smoothed out, no worries were apparent on him. His eyelids began to move, but I couldn’t pull my gaze from his face. He looked handsome in the early morning hours, his eyelashes delicately fluttering until his eyes were opened. He noticed me and smiled.

“Way to be creepy, watching me sleep.”

His voice was deep and soft and full of sleep.

I smiled back, “You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t help it.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

I laughed. “Nah, only the special ones.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I don’t want to beat up monsters today.”

“If we can’t find out what’s killing people, you might not have to.”

“That isn’t a good option either.”

“I know.” I yawned, stretching out. “Guess Sammy found a girl.”

Dean looked over his shoulder at the empty space. “Oh.”

“You still believe we’re together now?” I raised my eyebrows.

He looked back towards me. “I might, might, have been wrong there.”

“Told ya.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “We better get the day going.”

I agreed. We fully woke up and grabbed some breakfast from a cafe down the street. We went back to the motel to find Sam in the shower, and our day went on as normal from that point on, until we found the clues we needed to lead us to the killer.

“A witch? Oh, come on, I’m so sick of them,” I complained.

Sam shrugged. “Hey, we found hex bags in each of the rooms. Most likely the owner of the motel, or someone who works there.”

“Maybe a maid? It’s always the butler, so maybe it’s always the maid too,” Dean suggested with a sly smirk.

“That, as lame as it is, actually could be a really great place to start,” I responded. “Let’s pack up and find out who’s been cleaning the place up.”

We went and questioned the owner to find out which employees had been working when the murders took place, and landed on only one housekeeper: a man named Ken. We got his address and decided to do a little questioning. We arrived to his house, and Sam knocked loudly.

The door creaked open. “Hello?”

“Hello, we’re with the FBI, we have some questions to ask you,” Sam responded, flashing his badge.

The man behind the door, opened it a little wider. He grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.”

He looked to me.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Dean stepped halfway in front of me before I could say anything. “You might want to watch yourself, you’re suspect for the murders that took place the night you were working at the motel.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh? Why don’t you come inside, then.”

He stepped just inside and he shut the door behind us.

“Anyways,” he began, “I’ve always wanted to meet the Winchester’s.”

Before we knew what was happening, our bodies flew up against the wall and landed on the ground harshly. We all attempted to scramble up, but as I attempted to stand, I felt a hand wrap around my neck. Ken pulled me backwards into him.

“Let her go,” Dean boomed.

Ken chuckled. “See, that’s where you’re making your mistake. Your little protective act only lets me know that your little girlfriend, here, is valuable to you. So, you might not like it if I just—”

He dropped me, and I felt my legs give out. It felt like all the air had been pulled from my lungs— No, it felt like I didn’t have lungs. I couldn’t breathe.

“You son of a—”

Thud!

Dean was slammed against the wall again. I watched from the ground where I lay as Sam attempted to go at him, but then it all went black.

I woke with a gasp, my body flying upwards in shock. I breathed heavily, finally catching my breath for the first time in what felt like eternity.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, you’re okay.”

I heard a voice, foggy. I turned my head quickly, finding Dean right next to me. Wait, no, he was holding me. We were someplace else, maybe in the house still? I heard distant voices. I felt tired.

“I… think I… need a nap,” I said, barely hearing myself speak.

“Whoa, no, no, don’t fall asleep, okay? Just— Here, just look at me. Look here, stay awake,” he spoke to me as I tried to listen.

My eyes still felt heavy.

“But— I’m tired. Just a… Just a nap.”

“No, (Y/N), don’t fall asleep yet, okay? We gotta make sure you’re alright.”

“What… Where are we?”

“In the house of a very bad witch.” I heard a woman’s voice. I looked up to see red hair. “I mean, come on now, I was able to fix you right up quite easily.”

“Yeah, thank you, by the way,” Sam said to Rowena, a tight smile accompanied his words. My vision began clearing.

“What are you doing here? What happened?” I cleared my throat, trying to sit up to find Dean’s chest hard against my back. I noticed his arms around me, too. I ran my fingers over one of his forearms, happy to be there. Then I realized there were two other staring at me, trying to communicate. I stopped and tried to listen.

“—and then, well, you’re lucky Sam had enough sense to call me when he realized what you’d be dealing with, otherwise, my dear, you’d be dead. Hmm.”

“Oh. How’d we get away, though?”

“It was really all me, of course.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “You’d have really been in trouble otherwise, too, with Dean letting his jealously get the best of him and punching someone in the face.”

“Yeah, well, the douche bag deserved it.” I felt him speak, the bass in his voice vibrating in his chest. “He was getting too handsy with her.”

“I would have gotten him away quicker if you hadn’t made him even more angry, Mr. Winchester,” Rowena sassed. “Anyways, I’ve got things to do more important than speaking with you two giants and the wee fuzzy-brained girl. Toodleloo.”

She picked up her dress and walked out of the house. I liked her.

“I like her,” I giggled.

I started feeling funny. Almost drunk, maybe more giddy.

“Can’t say I feel exactly the same,” Dean said.

“Regardless, she did save us there,” Sam responded.

I laughed, “Yeah, she’s fun.”

“I would’ve gotten him,” Dean continued his conversation with Sam.

“Dean, we all would’ve been in trouble if she wasn’t here. Even you’ve gotta admit to that.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He reached into his pocket for the keys, throwing them at Sam. “Here, go start the car.”

“Alright, hurry it up,” Sam said as he left.

I leaned my head up to look at Dean. “So, you were jealous, huh?”

“I am not. I just didn’t want his grimy hands on you, now come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.”

I felt movement as he began to move from behind me. I tried to stand up, but before I could, I felt his arms swing underneath me. He picked me up, and carried me out the door. I held onto his neck, enjoyed time in close proximity to him and wishing I could just tell him how I felt about him. If I could even figure it out for myself. He sat me in the backseat, helping me buckle in before we took off. Soon enough, we were back at the motel and Sam decided to go on a dinner-run. Dean and I entered the room alone, he helped me to walk until I could sit down.

“Here, just sit here,” he said, helping me to rest on the edge of his bed. He moved around me, squatting down between my legs and looking up at me. “Are you okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at him looking at me. “Yeah.”

He let out half a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I shrugged, a contented smile on my face. “You’re cute.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I figured out why you’ve been so grumpy,” I cut him off, unable to stop from speaking.

He put his hands on the bed on either side of my legs. “Why’s that?”

“I think you didn’t like me and Sam.”

“I already told you I wasn’t mad at—”

“No, no, no. You didn’t like us together. You were being jealous. Like with the weird witch man. Rowena said so, and she’s smart.” I giggled.

He raised an eyebrow, gulping. “Uh, let me get you some water. Maybe that’ll help.”

“I’m right.”

“Now’s not the time to talk about this stuff, (Y/N), let’s just—”

“Uh uh. You said we’d talk about it today.”

“We can, later.”

He tried getting up, but I put my hands on his shoulders.

“But I like you, I wanna talk now.”

“This is just the spell wearing off, if you just—”

I sighed harshly. “No it’s not, stop it. I like you a lot. You’re so cute and you give me butterflies and make me nervous and make me smile a lot and all I can think about is you all the time.”

“(Y/N)…” he started, eyebrows knit together.

“I’m not saying it because of the spell, okay?” I started rambling. “I mean, I always feel that way, but I didn’t want to say anything. You know, I was kind of scared. Now, it kinda seems like maybe you feel the same way, and I just want to know, otherwise this is gonna be really awkward when I’m not feeling all weird and giddy and I jus—”

Before I knew what was happening I felt his lips on mine. I felt shocked. I took a moment to gather my wits, but I seemed to take a moment too long. He pulled away.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to force that on you, I thought you wanted…” He trailed off, a hand going to rub at his face. I reached out, pulling it away from his face. He looked up at me, apprehensive.

“Trust me, I wanted it,” I confirmed before leaning back in as quickly as I could.

His hands moved up to settle at my waist as he smiled into the kiss. I held his jaw in my hands, pulling him in as closely as I could. I never wanted that kiss to end, but it had to soon, as we needed air. Our foreheads rested against each other.

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” I whispered.

He laughed. “I’m just happy to know that Sam wasn’t the one doing it. Because you were so right, I was definitely jealous.”

“Knew it.” I giggled.

He hummed, pulling away from me. We looked at one another for a minute, taking it all in. I let my hand reach back up to his face, my thumb brushing against his cheek, looking at all the freckles that dusted his face.

I sighed, happy. “You wanna go again?”

He chuckled, a smile on his face. “Oh, for sure.”

I slapped the bed next to me, and he scrambled up, facing me. His arms immediately snaked around my middle, pulling me in tight. I held on to his neck, gazing up at him.

“You good?” He asked, a smile stuck on his face.

“More than.” I nodded, grinning.

He pressed his lips to mine, wasting no time. We stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying our time together and hoping it would never end. Until the door swung open.

“Whoa, walked in at the wrong time,” Sam exclaimed, closing the door as quickly as he shut it.

Dean and I looked at each other. He shrugged, “Whoops.”

I laughed, and he pulled me back in.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#not me posting a supernatural fanfiction in the year of our Lord 2023 #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural #supernatural fic #spn fic

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woodland-gremlin · 23 days

Text

How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 3

Fury burns through her at the words so carelessly thrown around that anyone could easily mistake her having a fire core instead of a wind one. First her crummy Creator corners her in a public place forcing her to split her attention to make sure their fight doesn’t affect anyone else or get attacked by the GIW. Second, the public place was the haunt of one of the founders of the Hypocrite League. Third, she was mistaken as a villain by said founder. Fourth, she still doesn’t know what 16th Century Up-Do is really planning because she doubts it is an apology for all the shit he has put her through. And now the Lying-Liar calls the Packer’s Fanatic her father! She doesn’t care about the consequences of attacking the government's pet lap dogs anymore. After that all bets are off!

“He is not,” Ellie twists her wrist so that she is the one holding on to the idiotic heroes wrist instead, “my,” she tightens her hold, “father!” Ellie wails, tapping into her ghostly wail.

Steal Thong screams, kneeling over, desperately trying to cover his bleeding ears. Ellie’s Wail might not have the raw power that her brother’s has without risking destabilization, but with how well she can control it with her wind core, how close Superdouche was, and how sensitive his enhanced senses it was enough to knock him out.

As the hero struggled in the air, not falling only because of the hold Ellie had on his wrist, Boundary-Bastard began to cackle like those cliche cartoon villains. All he needed to complete the picture was to be sitting behind one of his tacky desks while petting his cat, Maddie. How Danny got more creeped out by the Fruitloop naming his cat after Danny’s mam more than getting cloned she’ll never know.

“Oh Danielle,” More Money Than Sense chuckles while wiping an imaginary tear from his eye, “You really are my daughter, aren’t you?”

Ellie growls, waving her arms in her fury, momentarily forgetting the hero she held captive. “I’m not your daughter you Creep. I’m nothing like you.”

All Ellie’s words did was set off Crummy Vampire Cosplay in another cackling fit. “Oh really,” he purred, “then you didn’t just defeat the world’s so-called greatest hero?”

Ellie stills, turning her eyes downwards towards the hero she was holding. Yelping, she dropped her hold on the hero like a hot potato before grabbing him again. As much as she would like to let him go she doesn’t know if a drop from this height would kill him and really didn’t want to find out.

“I didn’t-didn’t mean,” the youngest Halfa stuttered out, not daring to look into the oldest Halfa’s eyes. Not wanting to look at the one you just stated one of her greatest fears out loud. That she was just like the one she hates the most. That she never escaped his grasp. That everything she did was not out of free will, but something she was programmed to do. That she was just a pale imitation of Danny, in the end becoming Vlad’s perfect child. That she was a monster masquerading as a child.

“You didn’t mean to?” Plasmius mockingly parroted back, “Of course not, just like how you didn’t mean to betray Daniel all those years ago.”

Ellie flinched, absentmindedly tightening her hold on the unconscious hero.

“Face it Danielle, no matter what you do all you will ever do is hurt people, no matter what you intend. After all,” Plasmius crows, towering over the trembling clone, “you are my creation.”

To be continued . . .

#danny phantom #dcu #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie #danny fenton #superman #adoption au #dp x dc #vlad plasmius #clones

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spdrvyn · 24 days

Note

Perhaps a request for Miggy x scientist reader? Reader is a a former Alchemex scientist who used to work with Miguel. They have been working in spider HQ ever since the beginning of spider society. Both of them have been too busy to realize the bottled up feelings and emotions that is about to burst….

breaking beakers

miguel and a reader that's been by his side since day 1. since the treachery of alchemax, you've been loyal to miguel and his cause for protection of the multiverse. read bit by bit how your relationship with miguel develops, even if it's only something as simple as helping him administer rapture.

angst. drug usage (rapture). panic attack. absolutely love this request! i've never written a story where the reader was already a part of miguel's past so this is new and exciting for me. thank you, anon! i put my own twist, i hope you still enjoy reading ♡

dividers by @cafekitsune

breaking breakers

When you got paired up with your workplace's assigned asshole, you were more than concerned for your career than ever.

Miguel wasn't easy from the start. Arguments were one after the other, followed by complete silence in the lab due to the inability of either of you to take accountability. You had never really heard him talk or engage in conversation properly unless it was to scold or correct you for making, according to him, a quintillion mistakes.

It stretched you thin, you were close to asking the higher-ups to give you another partner, but you knew that they would ignore your protests so you put up with it. Besides, talking smack with your friends outside of work helped. Though, you knew that they were getting a little tired from it as well.

After a particularly harsh argument with him, you couldn't retaliate with anything witty to say. You sulked in your own corner of the laboratory for a while, until Miguel silently placed a small, steaming hot cup of coffee on your desk.

That moment had triggered the beginning of your actual relationship. Sometimes, the room would still be strung tight with tension, but it was better than awkwardly hanging around each other and waiting for yet another fight to start. It slowly turned into Miguel giving you rides home, Miguel buying more than just coffee for you, and Miguel staying at your place after he dropped you off.

Then he quit.

Or did he get fired? Liberated, in corporate terms. You didn't know the full story, you got a new lab partner one day, Miguel was gone, there was no coffee on your desk anymore. There was no comfortable silence.

It was difficult to get a hold on him with the moments that followed, you knew well that he had a tendency to brood, but never for this long. He didn't leave you on read, your messages weren't even going through. You searched his name up on social media and found nothing, a thousand other Miguels but not your Miguel. You reached out to his brother after a lot of thinking, but he couldn't come up with an answer either because his family didn't know where he went either.

Perhaps it shouldn't have upset you as much as it should have, Alchemax viewed their employees as expendable toys. You didn't mean to get attached to him, but you had breached that line very long ago ever since the first shouting match. He was your friend now, no corporation was going to get between at least trying to talk again.

When you had gotten a message from an unknown number, there were only two possible answers. A telemarketer or Miguel. Likely possibilities, a fifty percent chance for either. You thanked God that it was the latter.

The power that was held in that conversation had changed the trajectory of your life forever. Miguel helped arrange a time for you to meet, the second you caught sight of him, it erupted a feeling in you that you just couldn't bring yourself to describe.

He still looked like him, but otherwise different. His face looked more sunken in, eyebags, lines you hadn't seen on his face before. He was definitely taller, his physique was more built as well. What caught your attention the most though was his eyes, crimson red and deliberately drained of light.

Miguel, what happened to you?

It was a long, overly extensive talk. You shouldn't have broken down over it, the events that lead up to his timely demise at his job. It wasn't your place to cry over his misfortunes, but he looked like he didn't have it left in him to cry so you took that place for him. Alchemax was your breeding ground for innovation and evolution of human society, a little shady around the edges, but you knew that you'd still be helping people in the end. After this, your hopes in that place had been quashed. Clearly if they were heartless enough to treat one of their top geneticists like this, they wouldn't be any better towards the safety and care of the populus.

So you quit your job immediately. Miguel invited you to Spider Society and you gladly agreed, you were in no position to really decline. Besides, it was a good way to get you back on your feet again. You had become acquainted with the people that passed by in what used to be headquarters back then, Miguel trusted them with his life it seemed (despite him not being able to admit that himself though).

You'd find yourself in HQ more than in your own apartment at that point, you enjoyed being there. You had closer friends, Spider-People were better company than mad scientists anyway. You helped Miguel make this new, exciting thing from foundation to the top. It helped you become more social, it made you more comfortable opening up to people again.

You just didn't know that it was doing quite the opposite with Miguel.

You had blamed yourself for not noticing sooner, for not picking up the details that he wasn't doing as fine as he thought he was. When you found the doors to his office locked, you already felt your heart begin to race. You called out to Lyla and she was more than willing to answer back, "He's going through something, he hasn't really been taking his Rapture doses recently and-"

"Let me handle it," you said, firmly. "I can help him. I can fix it."

Lyla looked at you, just looked. She didn't feel, she wasn't supposed to feel exactly. She could act like it, her programming allowed her that at least. She made perfectly calculated decisions and perfectly calculated reactions to them, when she noticed a problem, she was supposed to fix it.

You weren't as accustomed to Lyla as other people, but you were aware of that as well. In spite of that, she still managed to be the light in conversations most of the time. Literally, when it was the dead of night, just you and Miguel strewing and caking together more reports, she'd find ways to make it more entertaining.

That means if Lyla looked at you like she did, with so much uncertainty and inner conflict. It was like her code turned to beat like a human heart, you could hear it in the swift moment of silent she'd left you in. The hiss and whir to Miguel's office doors reeled you back in, Lyla sighed. She shouldn't sigh, she never sighed.

"Do the right thing," she wished you off. God, I hope so, you thought to yourself.

It was dark, obviously. You were used to it, ever since Miguel told you about how sensitive his senses can get, you didn't really mind at all. There was still light that peeked from the corners, a small monitor here and there, maybe a secret window you just didn't know about. It was cozy sometimes even to evade the blinding sunlight and stay in the darkness with Miguel. But that's not at all what it felt like when you entered. It did not embrace you, it suffocated you.

There was no accompanied noise either, no beeping from a monitor, no whirring of a machine, and no idle chatter with him and Lyla like there would always be. It was the purest form of silence, the sound of your breathing and the small pats of your shoes against the cold, metal ground was all you could hear.

Miguel's platform was placed high up, there was absolutely no way that you could get to him without using a web shooter. Unless you could somehow convince him to lower his platform, which you really didn't want to do in the case you might accidentally say something stupid.

"Miguel?" You yelled, stupidly. Though, it would be more stupid to try and propel yourself up to the height of his platform. One option results in humiliation until the end of your life while the other option could result in the end of your life. You weren't really looking forward to experiencing the latter.

You thought you heard him mumble something, but before you could call out his name again, he answered back. "Get out."

The absence of cruelty in his tone was prominent to you already. He didn't have the heart to speak so coldly to you in the first place. No, he sounded scared, fearful, whether it was of you or himself, you were yet to find out the reason why. The priority right now was to talk to him, properly.

"Are you sure about that? I have a, uh, really important work file that I need you to review! The multiverse is at stake here, Miguel. Come on!"

Silence. For a few seconds. Before you heard the unmistakable click and whir of his platform, it makes its slow descent down towards you. Miguel begun to enter your vision, he had a chair pulled up and he was hunched over on his desk. Rare, you knew he liked to work when standing (oddly enough).

"You're a bad liar," he grumbled, not even facing you as he said it. You sighed as you stepped onto the platform, placing your hands on your hips.

"I wasn't lying, but your doors were locked and Lyla told me that there was something going on here." Miguel mumbled something else under his breath that you couldn't catch, he simply goes back to what to whatever he's doing. Which you really couldn't allow, but you couldn't push yourself into this. With him, there was always some sort of process.

You took the moment to observe your surroundings, it was unbearably messy in here. A feat that he'd somehow been able to achieve despite being way past the age of papers, there was clutter everywhere. From beakers, liquids of mysterious origin pooled around from here to there, and even... Blood?!

Your attention had snapped back to Miguel and that's when you had started to notice, how his shoulders rose and fell faster than usual, his hands ruffled in his hair, the rapid successions of his breath.

"Miguel," Shock the process. Shock waiting. He clearly wasn't okay, you knew that to the fullest now. In three short strides, you were already by his side. "What's going on?"

He shook his head. Okay, you didn't want to press him too hard into talking, but this wasn't something that you could leave alone. Hesitantly, you placed a hand on one of his shoulders. He flinched, so did you, but right now, you needed to be the strongest person in the room so you kept your hand there.

You tilted your head to the side, just so you could see his face, but he avoided your gaze. What entered your sights however was a discarded needle gun, yet to be picked up, and a few claw marks on the table.

So this was the Rapture that Lyla was talking about. You hadn't a single clue what it was when she mentioned it, you pretended because you thought that she'd lock you out if you hadn't. Even then, there isn't much you could deduce aside from the fact that it was a drug Miguel had to take. You heard very little about the Rapture studies back in Alchemax, it was very classified, and you wish you would have pried more.

"Do you need help with that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. Your thumb drew small circles into the muscle of his shoulder, his hands fell from his hair to his sides. He slumped back against his chair with a big sigh, and he nodded.

Shakily, you picked up the gun. There was no seat for you to take, so you decided on sitting on the table. When you leaned down, the nanofabric of Miguel's suit had dissipated, revealing the fullness of his arm to you. You attempted to steady your hands over the exposed skin, Miguel doesn't even wince as the little needles pierce through.

It will probably take a little while for the vial to empty out. You stewed in the silence with Miguel for a while, you'd usually use this as an opportunity to make conversation, but judging from his current state, he probably isn't one for talking.

You released the breath that you were holding in when it was finished, you set the device for the side. Your hand remained on Miguel's shoulder the whole time and it tightened as you asked, "Is there–"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm just-" Miguel took a deep breath. "I'm- not ready to talk about it right now. It's a lot, sorry for bothering you."

He still wouldn't look you in the eye, you looked down to his hands and saw him tugging and pinching at the fabric of his suit. He'd calmed down a little now at least, but still. You couldn't help but feel like you've failed somehow, you tried to put on what's supposed to resemble a smile to him. "Okay, that's fine."

When he dismissed you and let you (told you) to leave him alone, you promised yourself that you'd wait. You'd wait for him to be ready.

But maybe he never will.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x y/n #hurt/comfort #tw drug use #tw panic attack

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kyouxa · 2 months

Text

Diabolik lovers Lost Eden: Ayato & Laito Sakamaki (short stories)

Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too! Scans provided by: @yuikomorii

Ayato Sakamaki

That night, Richter visited the mansion for the first time in a while. Never before I would have thought that the man whose face I never wanted to see again, was the one I would end up choosing as my guardian. My brothers, even the Mukami guys… they looked very surprised to run into his face as well, not that I cared though.

In any case, I just didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes I already made in this world. But thanks to her I’ve already become a different person from back then.

According to Richter’s report, the demon world itself seems to gain stability. He also mentioned that Eden’s restoration has become slightly better and that the familiars of those Mukami guys have come to help. Holy shit, after hearing all of this I couldn’t help but let my inner self get overwhelmed by relief.

As Richter finished his report, he immediately left the mansion and I could finally return to my own room. And just as I opened the door I saw her sitting by the window, reading a book as she slowly raised her face.

“Hm… ? Is Richter-san already back on his way home? Don’t you usually have a longer talk with one another… ?”

As she spoke to me, I approached her and started to smell a calming scent. As I grabbed her hand to move her up from the chair, I couldn’t help but immediately hug her afterwards. The book she was holding in her hand instantly fell onto the floor with a thud.

“Just outta curiosity… but did you happen to take a bath while I was gone?”

She nodded to my question and I started to smile at her in response.

“Heh, so you’ve prepared yourself already? If that’s so, then…”

As soon as I spoke those words, I pushed her down onto the bed next to me. Blocking her flustered face from uttering something, I laid my hand over her lips to keep them closed.

While I started kissing her continuously in various spots of her neck, I disarranged her negligee slightly. And like usually, when my face is already close to her neckline, I might as well get a bit of her luxurious blood out of her dainty neck. Just when I was about to get to it, she stiffened up a little. Noticing this, I suddenly got an idea and gently licked over her neck. “Kya!!”

She was very surprised by my action and therefore let out a small scream. I guess it was pretty unexpected after all.

“Kuku… did you think I was about to suck your blood? You fell for it, didn’t you?”

Right after I said that, I teasingly started licking her ear this time. She lets out another small scream and turns around as if I had just tickled her. I was intrigued by her unusual reaction, which is why I started to really tickle her body this time.

She busted out laughing begging me to stop while she tried to escape from my tickling attack which just made me wanna tickle her even more. If I was already given the choice I might as well do it as thoroughly as possible.

“I’m not letting you go! At least not until I’m satisfied…”

She continued to roll around the bed for a while, trying to resist until she rapidly became obedient and calmed down. “Hm? What’s going on? Surrendering? How boring…”

Just as I was about to move my hands from her, she unexpectedly turned the situation around. “Wha–! What are… hahahaha!”

Of all the things, I didn’t expect her to take advantage of me taking off my hands for a second to gimme a tickle counterattack. Seeing me burst into laughter made her laugh as well. “Stop already, will you!? Hahah! Shit! Chichinashi, move… !”

Receiving even the slightest bit of retribution I immediately became serious again and got my revenge through tickling her body. She tried with all her power to go up against me and return the punishment .

And, just for a brief period I was sure the laughter of both of us was echoing through more than just the room. To be honest, it would’ve been easy for me to get out of this situation and resist her. And yet, the reason why I go along with such a trivial battle is because I would give anything to keep seeing her carefree smile, even if it’s only for a bit longer. The fact that we can both laugh together like this makes me feel happy and maybe that’s because I’ve grown a little since then.

Laito Sakamaki

I’ve returned to the human world in order to finish my school life as a senior high student. I never thought I would have to return here every day again. “Haa… I’m sick of reading this, I wish those tests would finally disappear for good.” While I started to comb my hair out of boredom, my girlfriend who’s sitting next to me continued studying in silence until she replied that it cannot be helped and I should continue reading.

“Come on, Bitch-chan. No need to be such a serious and straight-laced person, no?” As I said those words, I gently put my arm around her back and started to lightly embrace her waist. Even though I saw a faint blush on her face, she reminds me that she is busy studying right now.

“I know that.” But, despite that, I started nibbling on her ear. Perhaps this has always been my normal life no matter to what extent.

To even think that I begged for death because it was unbearable to keep on having these powers in my state… but that is beyond doubt the absolute truth and I totally understand that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the power of the World Tree. The only difference from me back then and now is that I am finally able to accept that reality. During that time, my power was too strong for me to handle, I wasn’t able to come to grasp that reality. And even so, I deserved a second chance. Ironically, due to her help I could finally accept the distortion within me and become more straightforward at the end. I held up my face close to her chest in a way of telling that I love her.

“This is all thanks to you that I can exist like this.” However, she doesn’t reply to me. “Are you agreeing with me if you’re staying silent like this?”

It was a calm sigh that she returned to me that made me understand the answer to my question.

“I guess I was too reckless, no?” She showed a bitter smile as I examined her expression. As I observed her tiny body calmly from top to bottom I was shaken by a sudden feeling of satisfaction. And yet there is no way to help the fact that this world is slowly going to destroy itself. I have been told that alongside my resurrection, the world tree has been new-born but started to shed its leaves ever since. Even though it’s all said and done this is happening just as he wished for. He knew right from the start that I wasn’t ever capable of being the vampire king.

“No matter how far I move on with my life, I will always be right in the palm of his hands.” With those words escaping my mouth, I closed my eyes. It’s still unimaginable to me that I used to be a different person before, but… all I needed in the end is someone like her to accept me as I am. That is because I am Adam and she is Eve. – And no matter what will become of this world, I’m prepared for it.

#diabolik lovers translation #Diabolik Lovers #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers lost eden #Lost Eden #yui komori

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thesuperiorrobin · 1 year

Text

“Lipstick stains~”

❥ pairing : Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

❥ Word count: 538

❥ Summary: you ask Damian to do a tiktok video with you and he has no idea what it’s about.

❥ Warning: kissing

(A/n: this is inspired by a couple TikTok’s that are becoming a trend and I think it’s cute but it hurts my feelings 😀 the luck is literally right here in the underline )

PART 1 PART 2

Damian really isn’t on the internet much, much less the media. So you like to take that to your advantage. Playing funny pranks on him and what not. Now, Damian has tiktok but he doesn’t post on it, once in a while you’ll see him watching video and hear him chuckle but that’s about it. Now there is a trend going around that you wanted to try. You’re with Damian in his bedroom swatching away lipstick on your lips.

“I don’t understand, '' he murmurs, watching carefully.

You shake your head “you don’t have to, just trust me” you look up at him with a hint of mischief in your eyes ``you trust me. Don’t you?”

“With all my heart love” he says quietly.

“You’re so cheesy”

“only for you” you roll your eyes. You cleaned up the edges of your mouth and turned to face Damian with a Smirk. “Alright, come here you~” you grab a hold of Damian's shirt for the collar and pull him into a kiss.

Damian doesn’t fight back as he firmly places his hands on your hips as he leans back pulling you on top of him. A couple seconds later you pull back to catch a breath. Damian leans back, resting his elbow and forearm on the wooded ground, with hooded eyes his green eyes pierce up at yours. The lipstick complemented his Tan skin perfectly, it was smudged against his lips and yours as well. But you weren’t done yet. You lean back down and Damian leans back up, assuming he’ll be getting another kiss from you but he’s wrong.

You start to attack his skin with kisses. His cheek, the corners of his mouth, his forehead, his chin, his neck, and eyelids. Behind every kiss you leave a stain until the stain is no longer visible, that’s your sign to stop. You lean back admiring your work and a daised out Damian below you. Pulling out your phone you take a quick picture before you get off him and open up the TikTok app.

Before you do anything else you wipe off the smudge lips too on your face, cleaning up your face a little before you somewhat reapply with the same color lipstick, that’s when you hit the white plus sign at the bottom of your screen to make a short video. Your phone screen is at the level of your face—you press play, the recording begins as you start to apply the lipstick on your bottom lip, moving your arm slightly so you mess up a little. “Oh no” you say “I messed up”.

You tried wiping off the mistake before you turned the camera back to Damian. Messy hair, and bright red lipstick stains covering his face. That’s where it ends. You do whatever you need to do before you post it.

“Okay! All done” You pull out a wipe to remove the lipstick from your lips and once you are done you grab another and use it to clean Damians messy face. He lets you and doesn’t say a word.

“I’m not going to hear the end of it from my idiotic brother am I?” The screen of your phone lights up. A notification. You laugh and shake your head showing him the screen.

“Nope”

(I love reading the comments on cute dating post bc they are always out of pocket💀😭)

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #batman x fem!reader #robin x reader #batfamily #damian x reader #batfamily x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

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teamhandsometcth · 2 months

Text

A Monégasque Story (Part 4) - Charles Leclerc

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

/ Part 5

Summary of the series - Y/n is Charles' best friend little sister. They grew up together but haven't seen each other's for years. Their relationship seems to take a different turn when Charles stay at her's and her brother's.

Warning - Both Y/n's and Charles' POV, Fem reader, Both Charles and Y/n speaking French (translated) tension, tooth rotting fluff, three years age gap, mature content, 18+, brother's best friend, friends to lovers, she felt first he felt harder...

Disclaimer: I'm French and my English is NOT perfect ⚠️ Please don't stole or repost my stories on any other sites. Btw reblogs are more then welcomed.

The party yesterday shit faced me. Less than the last time i guess, but i still had a pretty hard time waking up.

We got home late and i had maximum 4 hours of sleep. So yeah, this is fun.

I push the sheets away with very little motivation, and head to the bathroom.

I cross my reflection in the mirror, and huff. I wash my face and tie my hair trying to look more alive and less zombie like before opening my bedroom door.

I make my way to the kitchen, directly greeted by the sight of Charles looking all freshened up, ready to attack the day as if his night before has consisted in sipping an infusion and going to bed at 7pm with cucumbers slices on his pretty eyes and a waves song audio in the background.

I stop dead in my track, eyeing him up and down. He’s standing by the kitchen sink, filling his water bottle in a workout outfit. I don’t know if i should hate him or be inspired.

He smiles when he sees me entering the room, “hi love” I give him a quick hug before making my way to the fridge.

“Are you really going to work out this early ?” I ask him taking the apple juice bottle before turning back to him.

He look down at his watch laughing, “It’s ten”.

I sight “That’s what im saying, it’s too early to do any type of exercise.”

He close his water bottle and get closer to the counter where im standing “Well, i didn’t really trained since im here and all we do is eat and drink. Andrea is going to kill me. And even if im on holiday,” he says through quoted fingers “I still need to do work out and stuff, i don’t have time messing around.”

I chuckle, “Ok Tiana” He furrowed his eyes brows for a second before rolling his eyes. “Your reference are frightening” He snickers back.

I laugh, putting my hands under my chin in a “im proud of it” way before passing by him again “Well have fun, im going to go back to sleep.”

He quickly grab my wrist to spin me around. I look up, to him shocking his head, all smug. “Not so fast, you’re coming with me.”

I look down at his hand still securely wrapped up around my wrist, then back at him. “I think you’re mistaking, you enjoy tho” I free my hand from him and start making my way out, but once again he spins me around.

“Don’t let spinning people around become an habit, most people don’t like being manhandled you know.” I laugh. He shrug my comment “If you come with me i promise to give you a massage when we came back.” He says way too confidently.

I frown, i wasn’t quite ready for him to say something like that, but it’s not obvious enough for him caught up on it. “What ?” i say in disbelief, needing to hear it once again just to be sure that i got it right.

“If you run with me, i promise to give you a massage when we get home.” He repeats, still as confidently as before. Not a bit of doubt transpiring from his face.

It’s tempting, but im not sure having someone you’re attracted too, with their hands on you, caressing your skin is the best idea. But at the same time, who in their right minds would say no to a massage.

“Ok im coming” I say fastening my way to my bedroom to get ready. I hear him laugh as i close my bedroom door.

___________________

I feel like im going to faint, there’s no blood in my head anymore.

The sun is too bright, the air too hot and i don’t feel my legs anymore.

I come to a stop on the side walk. Immediately gripping my knees with my hands trying to steady myself and get my breathing back to normal.

I see Charles turn around, making his way back to me while laughing.

I so want to sweep his little smug expression out of his face right now.

“Are you trying to kill me ? Don’t laugh, im serious. Are trying to kill the shit out of me ?” I pants looking down, afraid that if I look up for too long I might puke.

“I can’t even breath anymore.” I state sitting down. Well actually more like dropping myself on the ground. My legs are not capable of holding me anymore.

“Don’t sit on the ground it’s dirty.” I hear Charles say as he’s already helping me up.

He put his arms around me and his lips to my ear “We’re good for today. You did not gave up, I’m proud of you" He compliment ms as we start walking back.

Before I know what im doing, my face broke into a big smile. “Im proud of you.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” I say in a giggle genuinely in disbelief. He laugh out, his hand flexing on my side.

“Force of habits i guess, but if it’s something you want to try, I could train you. I’ll be gentle I promise.

I look up, smiling tiredly at him. “We’re gonna see, I’ll think about it.”

__________________

Raphael was heading to work when we got home. Which means that he most likely won’t be home before at least 3pm.

I directly hoped in the shower. I’ve never felt so dirty in my entire life. Charles took Raphael’s bathroom so we could be as efficient as possible.

I got out first, so i started making some quick lunch. I bend down to get something from the frizzer when i hear the sound of Raphael door closing. I look up, just in time to catch a glance of Charles’ dripping muscular body. He’s only dressed in a white towel handing really low on his hips, low enough for me to see some hair stick out of the towel.

If i had no self respect i would be drooling right now.

I clear my throat and turn around, busying myself.

Charles came back in the kitchen. This time dressed. His hair are still kind of wet, but it’s gonna dry up pretty quickly anyways.

Imagine you wash your hair, it doesn’t even take you that much time, and then they dry alone and looking good. Life is unfair.

“What are we making ?” he ask smiling at me, waking me up of my daydreaming about pretty hair.

I show him the basilic in my hand “I was thinking making some pasta and homemade pesto. how does that sound ?”

He smile immediately making his way toward the cabinet to grab the pasta. “That sound perfect.”

So that’s what we did, it took us maybe 25 minutes, Charles cooked the pasta and i made the sauce.

He’s literally the worst sous chef i ever had, he’s so distracting and unserious. He spend his time joking around trying to tickle me. But ironically enough he is also so attentive and always asking if i need something.

Charles hand gaze my arm as he take the Parmesan on the wood board beside me. When i look up at him, I’m greeted with a shy smile before he quickly moves away.

Once he is done dressing the plate, he carry my plate to the dinning table. I tried to take it from him but he insisted.

He set the table when the pasta were cooking. And he even through of putting some extra cheese in a little bowl for me, knowing how much i like it.

He is pissing me off so much right now. He makes it super hard not to want him.

He takes a mouthful of pasta, his expression unreadable, before laughing out loud.

I giggle, “What’s up with you ?”

“Im so sorry. The pasta are still a bit uncocked” he let out. His shy smile back on his lips.

“Let’s see” I smile back and take a bite, surprised to find a slight crisp under my teeth.

l laugh, making Charles do the same “they are not al dente, they are croquante” he says, his shoulders deeping with how hard he’s laughing.

In reality, it wasn’t that bad and it was still really good.

We eat, while discussing about what our favorite types of music, artists and others stuff.

Since we got home, neither of us mentioned anything about the massage thingy. And I don’t want to be the one to bring it up. Plus, Im not hundred percent sure if it’s a good idea since you know…

We clean up everything, putting the extra food in a tupperware and doing the dishes. Not without Charles shaking his wet hands in my direction instead of drying them. He is a child.

“Are you ready for your massage appointment ?” he ask me with a grin already walking in direction of his room.

My eyes widen, thinking he had forgotten about that. I fasten my pace behind him “Oh Charles it’s ok really you don’t have too” i let out quickly.

He turns around shrugging me off “No, you run with me and you gave it all you could, you deserve it. Plus i promised.” He says opening his bedroom door.

“Stay here im going to go search for some towels” he let out before entering the bathroom next door. He comes back a second later with a big towel, a littler one and my bottle of body oil that was on the counter. “Is it ok if i use this ?” He ask, showing me the bottle.

“Sure” I say sending a smile his way. “Um, how are we going to do this exactly ?” I question looking around.

“Well i was thinking putting that right here…” He says installing the large towel flat on his bed.

"And I don’t know, I guess the easiest would be for you to put on a bathing suits and then put that," he show me the littler towel "on your bum so you have more coverage." he explained way too relaxed.

“I um, yeah im gonna go change.” I let him know quickly before exiting the room. What the fuck im i doing right now ?

I close my bedroom door and choose a swimsuit. One that is not too revealing but at the same time that show enough skin for him to be able to massage me comfortably. I make my way back to Charles’ room, feeling really little dressed. God this is so weird.

When i get in, Charles is sitting on the bed, his phone in hands. He looks up when he hears me. “You’re ready ?” He ask, getting up.

I nod, trying to play it cool, but in reality im pissing myself. I lay on my belly where the large towel is, and put the little one on my butt quickly.

Charles put some instrumental music on, before taking the oil bottle from the nightstand.

“Can i untie your top ? It will be easier to access if it’s off.”

“Um sure.” I say, trying to get comfortable and chase every inappropriate throughs going on and on in my head.

I feel his fingers gaze my skin and my top going lose. I breathe in, preparing myself for what’s to come.

His hands delicately starts to spread out the oil all around my back, getting really shy as he got closer to my lower back then quickly coming up.

It feels so good, but I almost want to laugh at how afraid he is to touch me. He’s brushing his fingertips against my skin as if i would crumble into pieces if he putted more forcefulness in his mouvements.

He starts gently massaging the skin around my spine with his thumbs, making some up and down mouvement, before putting his palms flat on my lower back and pushing them up with a little more energy.

I exhale out, not so quietly. It feels so relaxing i cannot.

He lets out a giggle “What ?” I ask, turning my face slightly on the bed so i can glance at him.

“Does it feels good ?” He whispers. I close my eyes readjusting my head on the mattress, and answer sleepily “So good.”

To be continued…

Part 5 ->

I hope you guys liked it. Im sorry, it’s a bit shorter than habitually but im back.

🎻Tell me if you want to be add to my tag list

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. If you want to request something, go for it and I will try my best to make it as good as possible. Have an amazing day or night, and maybe see you soon. With love,💜

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🏷️ @d3kstar @eviethetheatrefreak @annie115

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najlepsiznajlepsich · 29 days

Text

tolerate it.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: cursing, age gap (9 years), alcohol consumption, angst, loosely inspired by tolerate it by taylor swift

author's note: this my first ever published fic!! woohoo!! star = time skip, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. (had this sitting in my drafts for a long long time)

☆

The bright yellow light shone right in your face. Regret was the only thing that you were feeling right now. Your brother just had to have a big party for his birthday, only inviting his friends and you, for some reason. 80% of these people were strangers to you. It’s like you were totally out of place, cursing out your brother in your head.

Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around. “It is you!” the man in front of you said. Carlos. The guy you had a crush on years ago. You didn’t even recognize him at first. But you could recognize that Spanish accent in a crowd full of people. His voice was like a lollypop, reeling you in to hear all his sweet whispers.

He wasn’t the 17-year-old boy playing fifa with your brother. His tight shirt highlighted his muscles, his face was grazed by a light stubble, and his deep brown eyes had an emotion in them you haven’t seen before. Eyes, in which you wanted to get lost, scanned your silhouette. He threw his arm around your shoulders. His touch was a burning sensation dancing on your skin.

You also weren’t the 8-year-old girl with pigtails who sat around just to spend time with them. “Well, you’ve changed since I last saw you.” "Yeah, Carlos, that was ten years ago.” He laughed, and you swore the same butterflies flew around your stomach, just as when you were a kid. Fuck. He still had the same hold on you.

Still the same fool after all.

☆

You opened the front door to your parents’ house. His laugh echoed in the hallway as you took off your shoes. Carlos is here. “Y/N!! HELP ME!! He is cheating!” your brother shouted as you walked into the living room.

“I'm not cheating!!” Carlos mumbled, and your brother, who can’t handle losing, restarted the game. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” Carlos exclaimed. "MAYBE, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE CHEATING!” your brother yelled back, an evident smile on his lips. A throaty groan escaped the lips of both guys.

Their friendship was something you saw bloom into a close bond. Their arguments sounded just like the ones they had 10 years ago. And if it was a different day, maybe you would stay there and just watch them. However, your tired legs carried you to the kitchen.

From the fridge, you pulled out a bowl of fruits you cut up this morning. The laughter of those two man-children was still heard. One of them bringing nostalgia and some old, forgotten feelings back.You really haven't changed.

“Hey? You okay?” a small voice next to you asked. You didn’t even notice when he entered the kitchen. Shit, how and why did you zone out? Could’ve avoided him. Well, not him, but this conversation.

"Yeah, Carlos,” you mumbled out. He opened a drawer, looking for something. He grabbed a pack of popcorn, threw it into the microwave, and leant onto the cold kitchen counter behind him.

A buttery smell hits your nose pretty quickly. Not sure if it was because of that, but the awkward atmosphere shifted into a comfortable one.

It reminded you of the moments from your childhood and his teenage years. The raindrops bounced against the glass of the window. It calmed you down until you heard the microwave beeping and got a mini-heart attack.

“Can I have some?” you asked shyly. He didn’t answer; he just pulled out a second, smaller bowl. “Wanna go out golfing tomorrow?” he asked you as he handed you the popcorn, his voice barely above a whisper. You looked up at him from your bowl of fruits. “Just me, you, and your brother." “All right,” you smiled.

“Want some?” You pushed your bowl with the cut-up fruit in front of him. He grabbed a piece of an apple. “Delicious,” he moaned as he placed it on his tongue. You giggled at his antics. He really hasn’t changed. “From your garden, right? I remember this taste.” "How?" "Too good to forget."

He smiled and picked up the big bowl of popcorn. “Are you sure you wanna go golfing? It’s weird you’re not complaining about it-“ “Go away before I change my mind.”

☆

You leaned into him as you laughed at his joke. His smell was intoxicating, you wish you could smell it all throughout your life. He placed his head on yours, and you swore you were in a dream.

“Carlos,” you spoke quietly, “you remember when we went golfing?” He smiled at the nice memory. If only you knew he remembered everything. Your hairstyle that you tried on for the first time, your outfit, the way your eyes sparkled when he said your swing was nice, the pinkish-red sunset you had to take pictures of.

He wished you’d take pictures of him, you didn’t. But, shh, you were taking pictures of him. Just in secret and for yourself.

“Yeah, of course I do. Our first date.” “Well-“ “Yeah, I lied to you, your brother was never invited.” You smiled. That was not new to you. Your brother was such a gossip. He could never keep a secret. This just confirmed it. “So you planned that! Carlos!” He just giggled, light blush covering his cheeks.

The way you said his name made him feel like he was the only person on earth. He kind of was in your eyes. “Now look at us, babe,” he said, and you sat up to take a sip of your coffee. This was your new favorite activity. Lying down on the outside couch, drinking coffee, and talking to your boyfriend, Carlos.

“Half a year went by fast, didn’t it?” you asked as you handed Carlos his mug. “Because we’re together,” he said, smiling at you. The same butterflies you had ten years ago and also six months ago appeared in your stomach.

“I love the coffee you make, it’s laced with something, isn’t it?” You smiled at his small remark. “Only with love.” “You’re so cheesy. I love you so much."

☆

“We can split it.” Carlos grinned as he walked into the closet. There you were, sitting on the floor with suitcases all around you. “I don’t want to mess up your clothes,” you whined out, and Carlos sat down next to you. “You won’t mess up anything, just let me help you unpack,” he said with a smile.

You started pulling out clothes, and you both put them in the drawers or hung them up. Carlos had a bit of a judging era and gave opinions on nearly everything. His meanness went away when you picked up a white tennis skirt, the one you wore to your golf "date."

“Why haven’t you worn it since?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. “I don’t know,” you answered and folded it up. His gasp made you look at him. “This is the dress you wore that time we went to try out the new ice cream shop!” He smiled at you and put the dress on a hanger.

“You remember that kind of stuff?” you asked him genuinely. Who would’ve thought he was this attentive? “Of course I do,” he placed a kiss on the top of your head. After spending at least three hours lost in the sea of clothes, you walked out of the closet.

Ecstatic—that’s what you both were. Finally moved in together. You already put some of your decorations in his living room. But the hallway was too empty for your liking.

“Carlos, can I hang some artwork here?” you called out to him in the kitchen. His head peeked around the corner. “Sure, let me help you.” He disappeared and then quickly reappeared with the tools needed for it. He hung up all of them.

“Thanks for letting me hang these up here.” You thanked him, your eyes looking to the ground. With his finger, he made you look up at him. “Please, it’s the bare minimum,” he whispered. That was definitely not that. He pulled you into a quick hug, then turned around to look at the art.

“They are really pretty. Did you paint these?” he asked he asked shyly. “Yeah, some of them last year and some a long time ago,” you laughed. “I like that one the most,” he giggles, and points to the one that was a portrait of him.

“Okay, that was painted last week,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re so in love with me, it’s funny." “Don’t act like you don’t love me too, Sainz.”

☆

“YOU’VE DONE IT!” you yelled as you jumped into his arms. Your boyfriend just won a grand prix. A GRAND PRIX. At that moment, you were proud of him like you weren’t of anyone before. This was the first grand prix you attended, and he already made it so memorable.

“It was because of you! You’re my good luck charm!” he laughed. He smelled like champagne, sweat, and happiness, if that even made sense. He held you close, and in that moment, you felt you two were the only people on earth.

“My man just won a grand prix,” you whispered into his ear, calming him down a bit. You wish you could be stuck in this moment forever. And while celebrations were fun, coming home was something you both were looking forward to.

Carlos opened the front door to your house, your now colorful hallway greeting you both. He was happy you came with him, but if you didn’t, he knew you would be eagerly waiting for him at the end of the hallway. You left your suitcases there and just went to the kitchen to cook up something quick.

Like the gentleman that he is, he helped you cut up everything. Your laughs echoed through the whole house. You couldn’t stop laughing even when you were eating, his effect on you was noticeable. Carlos washed and dried the dishes with you. Ugh, such a gentleman.

You tiptoed to your shared bedroom, heading straight towards your bathroom. “Do you want a facemask too?” you asked as you felt his body behind you. He became shy all of a sudden. “I mean, if you want to and have one for me,” he stuttered over his words, and you laughed. You couldn’t comprehend how he was so shy at times.

The cold feeling from the mask hit your face. He put on his mask too, and smiled at you. “You’re so cute.” He loved watching you do your skincare routine, he was just so mesmerized by you. He sat on the edge of the bath, his eyes never leaving your face.

He was studying everything and making a mental note to himself about which stuff is for your eyes, lashes, lips... He knew you like his favorite song. His mask was pulled off way later than yours, and he headed straight towards your comfortable bed.

You ran after him almost instantly and plopped right next to him. Your breathing synced up, and you could feel a smile forming on your lips. You tilted your head to look at Carlos, only to find him already looking at you. Only smiles were exchanged; no words were needed.

You loved this. Comfortable silence with him. You never felt so relaxed when you didn’t know what to say. He threw a blanket over you two, and you wriggled out of it.

"Carlos, we have to change into pajamas." “No, we don’t have to, baby. Come cuddle.” He stretched his arms out towards you. Pulled under the covers again. “You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered out under your breath, and he giggled.

You both got comfortable pretty quickly. Now, no one could pull you out of here. “Good night, princess.” His lips tickled your forehead as they placed a quick kiss.

☆

You heard the door opening. He was finally home. You ran down the hall and threw yourself around him. A little peck from you landed on his cheek, and he returned it. There was sadness on his face. Something you haven’t seen in a long time.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you led him to the table where he had dinner waiting for him. His favorite food. “You ate already?” he asked when he noticed the absence of a second plate. Changing the conversation. Wow. So original.

“Carlos. Answer my question.” “I finished out of points.” He grunted as he sat down. You let out a heavy exhale and sat across from him. It could’ve been worse. “Don’t beat yourself up because of that. You’re a great driver; it just wasn’t your weekend.”

"Well, it hasn’t been my weekend for a long fuckin’ time.” He mumbled under his breath. Sometimes comforting him was like consoling a child. You didn’t know what to say and just watched him eat from his plate.

You hated when he was like this, because there was nothing you could do about it. Either he’d get over it or just be quiet for the whole day. You stood up from the table and walked slowly towards the kitchen.

You knew this wasn’t your fault, but it felt like that. You sat on the counter, looking out of the window. His footsteps echoed through the room. He carefully placed the plate in the sink, and his hands gripped your hips.

“Y/N,” he started his sentence, “I’m sorry.” You lifted your gaze to look at him. Your eyes were glossy, and that’s when he knew he fucked up. “It’s really not your fault, I shouldn’t be acting like this.” “It’s fine.” “No. It’s not.”

You knew it wasn’t fine. It tore your heart apart to see him in a shitty mood. He brought you into a hug. His cologne enveloped you, and you buried your head into his chest. His fingers played with your hair as he stroked your head.

A tear fell onto his hand when he pinched your cheek. You wanted to speak up, but you couldn’t find your voice. Carlos was one of the people you wanted only the best for.

“Please,“ you finally spoke up, “just talk to me when you’re feeling bad. I swear it’s better for us both.” He exhaled and looked down at you. “You should’ve told me sooner,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that,” you thought as you wriggled out of his hug.

☆

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” he yelled out as you walked out of the bedroom. His eyes scanned your body. “Oh. We can stay home if you want,” he changed his mind pretty quickly. You had to pull out the new dark red dress for this occasion.

Today was your 3rd anniversary, and Carlos, the great boyfriend that he is, booked a table in the most expensive restaurant. You ushered him into the car. You weren’t running late, but you were on the edge of that.

Quiet, calming music from the radio filled your ears. The ride wasn’t supposed to be long. It felt like that, though. You were looking out of the window, your eyes scanning the new buildings you hadn’t seen yet. Carlos’ hand landed on your thigh. That gave you a weird feeling of comfort.

But it didn’t last long as he parked his car. He got out of the car and then ran around it to open your door. You blushed at the act and placed your hand in his. “Let’s go, ma’am,” he said, and you laughed. You got through the reception, and the waiter took you to your table.

Carlos really took his time with this. The table overlooked the city of Madrid, with all of the city lights shining brightly. It looked beautiful. He pulled out your chair for you, and you giggled. “So what can I get for you?” the waiter asked as you both sat down.

“Just a non-alcoholic beer for me and a bottle of wine for my lady. What kind do you want?” he asked. He knew which one you always ordered, but he didn’t want to risk getting something you wouldn’t drink.

“Red wine. Please.” You smiled and opened the menu. “Is that all for the drinks?” he asked, and you both nodded quietly. “I’ll let you pick out the food,” he turned around on his heel, strutting towards the bar.

Carlos smiled at you. His smile was something that warmed your heart every time. He grabbed your hand and drew small shapes with his thumb. He always knew how to comfort and calm you. You broke eye contact with him and admired the city, while he admired you.

The waiter came with the drinks and took your order. You ordered something simple, like always. You started eating together, and the conversation topics floated effortlessly. He was in the middle of telling a story about the crazy stuff he did with his cousins when his phone rang.

‘boss’ was the name that popped up on the screen, and you chuckled. “Hold on, I have to take this,” he said, walking away from the table. You continued eating.

Something was off when 20 minutes flew by and he wasn’t back. Finished the food. Still nothing. Drank enough wine. Nothing. Nearly an hour has passed, and still nothing?

You stood up and went towards the bar. “Hey, do you by any chance know where my boyfriend is?” you asked, completely desperate for an explanation. “He paid your bill and left,” the waiter behind the bar said with a calm expression.

You deeply exhaled and walked back to the table to grab your purse. You stormed out of there. What the fuck? Why didn’t he tell you anything? You were sitting there like a dumbass for a long time, waiting for him.

You called yourself an uber, and while the drive was awkward, it was definitely better than sitting in a car with Carlos. “Got stood up?” the man asked, his gaze focused on you in the mirror. “No, it’s complicated.”

“Relationships are complicated,” he laughed. At least that made you feel a bit better. Again, it wasn’t a long drive, so you were home relatively quickly. You walked into the hallway, which felt a bit more colorless than before. Your shoes came off quickly, and you threw yourself on the couch.

Defeated—that’s how you felt. A tear slid down your cheek.

You woke up in your bed next to Carlos. He probably carried you upstairs. He looked peaceful. So pretty. You hated that you loved him so much. How you could forgive him anything.

Your brain was fighting itself, you didn’t know what to do. Carlos was everything to you. First crush, love, relationship. But this really hurt. It was like he didn’t even care about anything. Your bed feels as hard as a rock now.

You couldn’t fall back asleep. Turning, flipping your pillow and blanket. You tried everything. Still up. Your brain was filled with Carlos. Did he not realize how much this would’ve hurt you? Work is important; you get that. But you couldn’t even get a heads-up that he was leaving?

You were mad and sad, and the tears you pushed back that evening came out. And they weren’t stopping anytime soon. Everything dawned on you all of a sudden. You grabbed onto your blanket and wiped your tears into it.

And you were 12 again, crying over a boy who didn’t like you back. Your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, and you wished the man who was lying behind you would pick them up and glue them together. You fought the cry, which nearly came out of your throat, and reached for your phone to look at the time.

The phone brightened up the whole room, and you groaned. 4:55. Too soon. Apparently you weren’t the only one who was surprised by the brightness because the man next to you turned to face you. He was still sleeping. Thank god.

You didn’t want to deal with him this soon. You put the phone back on the nightstand and snuggled up under the covers. You felt his arms wrap around your waist. Somehow, his touch lost that warmth, and you felt goosebumps on your whole body.

You didn’t know what to do. Another round of tears rolled down your cheeks, and you never felt weaker. He had an effect on you. It used to be a positive one, but now you weren’t sure if you could continue with this.

☆

Where was he? The question brewing in your mind. Yeah, he was supposed to be working. But it’s 10 p.m. Your stress levels were increasing by every second. You were starting to worry about him. The dinner on the counter had already been reheated 15 times by now.

You sat down on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling. Your fingers fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Anything could’ve happened to Carlos, and you didn’t know. Your worries were cut short as a knock landed on the front door.

You shot up from the spot you sat on and ran towards the door. Your keys jingled as you tried to unlock the door as fast as possible. The handle probably left a dent in the wall from how fast you opened it.

And there he was. Carlos, with Charles by his side. You threw yourself into his arms, and he hugged you back. "Okay, Carlos, you’re home now. See you tomorrow!” Charles said carefully and slowly. He turned on his heel and walked rapidly back to his car.

As the front door closed, Carlos still didn’t let go of you. One close look at him and you could tell he’s drunk. You brought him to the kitchen and sat him down on a bar stool. “Come on. Eat. Or you’ll have a massive hangover.”

He ate slowly, talking about his evening. You stood on the other end of the counter, looking at him like you were a disappointed mother. Arms crossed on your chest gave you a feeling of security and comfort. Something you needed right now. As he was finishing his food, you decided to speak up about something you both dreaded to mention.

“Why did you go to the bar? You told me you were gonna come home immediately after work.” He looked up at you, like he was a deer in the headlights. “I just wanted to go out with the guys after a tough day,” he said, like he couldn’t figure out why you were mad. You just exhaled, not saying anything. But your stare spoke a million words.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad because of that.” He spoke as he handed you an empty plate. You bit into your bottom lip and turned away from him—towards the sink. You turned on the water, so it flowed slowly as you washed his and your plate, which had been in the sink for the past three hours. Carlos scoffed.

“You got so boring. What happened to you?” You ignored his drunken indiscretions and continued scrubbing the plates. He sat in silence, at least until the water flow stopped. You grabbed the closest dishcloth, not wanting to turn to see him. There were tears in your eyes, threatening to spill out of your eyes at any second now.

“You know, Y/N,” he started, “you changed. You aren’t yourself. You used to be so fun.” You swore you felt like someone had stabbed you right there, and you were starting to bleed out. Maybe past or sober Carlos would help you, but this one just wanted to put another knife through you.

“It’s like you don’t even care about my feelings, I never have fun anymore.” And there it was. The tears spilled from your eyes like a waterfall, and if your heart didn’t break before, now it definitely has.

“I can’t even have fun anymore.” He mumbled and walked out of the kitchen. A sob escaped your lips, and the salty drops covered the newly polished plates. You kept polishing them over and over again, breaking down even more in the process. That job was like a never-ending one.

His hurtful words were on repeat in your head, and you swore your knees started giving out. More sobs filled the room, but you stopped crying once you heard faint footsteps.

“Are you coming to bed or are you gonna keep polishing those dumb plates?” His tone was harsh, something you had never heard before. “I don’t want to sleep next to you tonight.” You whispered into the air.

“Night.” He grunted and turned off the lights in the hallway. You finally put the plates in their place.

“Second time you’re falling asleep on the couch.” You thought to yourself as you sat down. You felt like crying again, but there was nothing that could come out.

You reached for the blanket on the other end of the couch and found a comfortable position. What else could you think of other than your boyfriend?

You knew he was drunk. He probably didn’t mean it. You’ve done some shitty things while you were drunk too. But what if it wasn’t just the alcohol in his blood? Were you boring? Did you change? Were you good enough for Carlos?

A singular tear fell on the pillow. You wish you could just fall asleep and not think about Carlos for once. It helped you fall asleep most of the time, but it was also your greatest enemy in times like these. You hugged yourself, but nothing could generate the warmth Carlos hugged you with. A sob left your mouth.

“Can’t fall asleep. Please, Y/N,” Carlos’ voice scared you. “Please,” he begged again, and you stood up. He let you lead the way, slowly walking behind you. You threw yourself into your shared bed.

He just sat down on the edge. You looked at him for a second before turning on your other side and falling asleep. Carlos just sat there, looking out of the window. He finally laid down next to you, falling asleep nearly immediately with the familiar body right next to him.

☆

Family dinners. Something you both hated and looked forward to. Your mom handed you plates, then just ushered you out of the kitchen to the backyard. Your cousins and you neatly set the table, talking about stuff that has happened since you last saw each other.

You felt like a kid again. Everyone finally sat down and started eating. You felt terrible, and your face probably showed it because your aunt asked the thing you did not want to hear.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asked genuinely, and you just shrugged. You were defeated. You always attended his family events, and he couldn’t even come on time to yours? You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Probably at work,” you said, not even looking up from your plate. “Huh. Asshole.” Hearing your brother mutter out that about his friend shocked you. Your mom nodded, and your dad just sighed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. You preferred this over them calling you out. But it’s a family dinner, after all. “I know you love him, Y/N, but that age gap isn’t great,” your cousin proclaimed.

“He isn’t treating you right; younger you would never take that disrespect.” Another cousin agreed with her. You finally looked up to see the whole table staring at you. You didn’t know what to say. Maybe because they were right.

“You could’ve spent your twenties partying, and you’re with that guy.” Your dad spoke up. And you knew it was bad when he commented on it.

You exhaled deeply, opened your mouth to talk, and your brother already had his head in his hands. It’s like he was getting ready for whatever you were going to say.

“You love to just hate on everyone and everything, right?” Every pair of eyes looked away from you. Your phone vibrated in your lap, and you grabbed it. “I’m in front of the house.” You stood up from the table and became the center of attention once again.

“You don’t know him that well! You just love to judge everyone!” you shouted as you slid-opened the glass door. “I know him too well!” your brother yelled out. You slammed the door and ran up to your room.

“Give me 5 mins” you typed out with tears in your eyes. For those 5 minutes, you just sat on your old bed, trying to calm yourself down. Your feet swiftly carried you downstairs.

As you were about to make a turn for the door, you saw Carlos sitting in the backyard, laughing with everybody. You walked outside, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I let your boyfriend in, if you don’t mind,” your brother joked, making everyone laugh. Are you going absolutely fucking crazy? Just a few minutes ago, they hated him, and now they are making it seem like you had a problem with him.

You swore you were going to go insane, but you just sat down, smiling at your family. It’s fine. Everything will be fine. But as the night went on, it didn’t feel like that.

He was ignoring every ounce of affection you gave him. Acting like you didn’t exist. And now you regret defending him so much.

☆

You were in the middle of the unspoken routine you and Carlos adapted during the last few days after a big fight. You cleaned up after dinner while he read emails and work-related stuff.

He fell asleep because his soft snores filled the entirety of the living room. You grinned, and your heart broke at a thought that popped up in your head. You sat on the bar stool, and it’s like he felt like you were watching him because he woke up and opened up his book, continuing with his work.

Observing him was more fun when you two weren’t mad at each other. That isn’t the case today. He 'studied‘ the whole book, and you just sat there until he closed and placed it on the coffee table. You were internally fighting yourself.

Was this a good idea? Is it going to be absolutely worthless? You couldn’t even predict how you were going to act; how could you know how he was going to react? A little voice spoke quietly in your head. It’s going to be better. Let it go. You were walking towards the hallway when his deep voice surprised you.

“Are you not even going to say anything?” All the pent-up anger made its way to the surface. “You should say something!” you spat out, putting the emphasis on you. He looked down.

“Are you really making yourself the victim?” you continued. “What are you talking about?” he asked, not realizing you were one dumb question away from breaking down.

“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO IS RUINING THIS,” you strutted towards the couch, “and you’re not even realizing it.” He stayed quiet, waiting for whatever you had to say next.

“You used to actually care about me.” You shed a tear, and he stood up to hug you. But you just pushed him away. “Don’t pull that shit, Carlos.” He exhaled and sat down.

“I gave you everything!” you shouted. “All my attention, all my time, all my energy—I gave it all! And you did nothing with it!” You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Something in them screamed: When will she finally calm down? And that angered you even more.

“I don’t know shit about your life anymore! You don’t tell me anything! I have no idea how Ferrari is doing or what happened in the paddock. If you can’t even share the most basic information, how the fuck can we function as a couple?” You asked a rhetorical question. You didn’t want him to answer.

“It’s like my love and me are just extra weight on your shoulders. Is my affection annoying? Huh?” He looked up at you. You loved his deep brown eyes, but now you they were just making you angrier.

“I never knew you felt like that." “Yeah, of course you never know. It’s like you’re blind. Or maybe you just don’t fucking care! So stop acting like you do.” His clueless eyes scanned your hurt face. Maybe he actually didn’t know. But it’s not like that was an excuse.

He deeply hurt you, and there was no apologizing he could do; that was enough. “Please let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, his voice cracking nearly every word. “I swear, I didn’t mean it.” You burst into tears.

“No. Just let me end this.” Words rushed out of your mouth before you broke into another sob. A tear rolled down his cheek. This just broke your heart more. “You wouldn’t...” he said quietly.

“I would,” you looked him in the eyes, “and that’s what I’m doing right now.” “We’re done?” he asked like a little boy. “Yeah, Carlos. I’ll pick up my stuff later." You said as you walked through the hallway. The only thing you picked up were your keys.

You smashed-closed the front door and sat in your car. You couldn’t bring yourself to drive away. Leaving all the memories behind you. Most importantly, the 7-year-old you who would swear he was your soulmate. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

☆

#f1 angst #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fanfic

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softandsourcream · 7 months

Text

Stop, you’re losing me~ - one

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Summary: The last time you saw Yoongi wasn't one of your fondest memories. And actually, you thought that after ten years you no longer had any more tears to shed for that memory, for that situation, for him.

What was the problem with meeting him again at his brother's wedding, right?

Right?

pairing: idol! yoongi x vet!f reader.

Words: 9k

genre(s): angst, hurt- comfort, slow burn, fluff, smut (+18) (not this one tho)

au(s): childhood friends - to lovers, idol yoongi, normal vet reader, entertainment industry, denial and resentment.

warnings: curse words, family drama, grief, loss of loved ones, panic/anxiety attacks, damaged mental health, a LOT of struggling. Yoongi is here to help tho♡.

author’s note: just wanna let you all now that I’m so exited that this is out now! Hope you enjoy it and if you have any suggestion just let me know! I don’t bite 🐇. Also, English it’s not my fist language, so please be patient with this dumbass

IMPORTANT: this fic contains a lot of sensitive topics touched upon explicitly. Please, if any of the tags trigger something in you, stop reading. You’re more important, and there is much more content you can consume here. Take care please! ♡

enjoy!

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main masterlist

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“Where are you?”

“Outside.” In fact, he had gotten out of the car a second ago, and he wasn't going to answer, but he didn't know where they were either; the place was exaggeratedly large.

“Get in here then, you're late.”

“I’m at the entrance... where are you?” His voice breathless, he ran a lot in less than 20 minutes.

“Your brother is about to faint, so you’re going to see us easily. The first row.”

Yoongi hung up the phone, and sure enough, it wasn't difficult for him to find his family right at the end of the place. His brother looked around restlessly, probably looking for him or his fiancée, because he knew he was late, but he didn't seem to have started yet either.

His father, on the other hand, observed his brother's concern with the empty gaze he had always had from his seat, blinking slowly without saying much. He smiled a little at the scene (also a little relieved to finally be there) and started walking quickly, straight there, without looking at anyone else.

He greeted some of his aunts from afar, bowed to others he didn't know but greeted him, and ended up meeting his brother's eyes, almost finishing his journey. The concern on his face changed to one of anger, and he approached him as if suddenly he wasn't about to get married and be responsible for a family. His posture was the same as when they played as children, and his mother had to separate them for a toy.

It gave him chills.

“Hel-“

“Where the fuck were you.”

Yoongi frowned exaggeratedly at the bad word, looking at his father, who was watching everything in the same exact spot with the exact same cold and calm eyes.

“You’re not going to say anything to him?”

He didn’t respond, and Yoongi chuckled when his brother insulted him again.

“Calm down, if mom hears you, she-“

“You’re half an hour late, Min.” Finally, his father, mad. He can tell just by his voice. Yoongi shrank from the scolding and grimaced, looking at his brother.

“I’m sorry.” One. Sooner than he expected “They didn’t let me go sooner.” Greum-Jae didn't even seem interested in hearing an excuse; Yoongi had never seen him so angry before. But he still dared to continue speaking. “I get you’re mad, and I’m sorry, but don’t be mad with me right now. This is your day, we can fight later, and I’m here. I’m really sorry, for real, it wasn't my intention to ruin this for you.”

“Now it’s my job to be calm?” Jae fled from his touch. “To ignore your mistakes? You literally have one job.”

“I know I- I don’t have any other excuse, okay? I’m really sorry.”

Two.

It was subtle, but after a moment, his gaze softened, and so did his body, which was the most noticeable. Jae hugged him, and Yoongi smiled sadly, because he did feel bad, but, of course, it wasn’t the time to show it.

“You’re lucky she’s late too, and that I’m in a good mood right now.” He knows. “Missed you…”

“Me too.” His smell, his hugs, his voice. His home. He missed. “You are in a good mood, though? You look like you're about to throw up.”

He hit his shoulder, breaking the hug and getting closer to his father. Yoongi says hi to him without receiving a response, of course. He looked older and tired, which made him think about how long he had not set foot in that city. He squeezed his fist, unsettled. “I’m nervous; of course I look like that.”

Yoongi was going to ask why, genuinely interested, because he didn't understand why he should be nervous. He wasn't supposed to do anything more than 'yes, I do' and be with the person he loves most for the rest of his life. He also understood that, from the context, Yoongi would never understand it, and he didn't feel like doing it either. Also, he shouldn't be that direct, so he swallowed his question and leaned with both hands on the empty chair next to his father, placing all his weight on his arms.

He wanted to ignore the fact that he felt watched. There were a lot of people there. He hadn't taken a look to see how much he knew and how much he didn't, that was an activity he would leave for when they were dancing and there was less light. Right now he knew that everyone was looking at him, and he didn't like it because, although it was a family and private event, he couldn't completely ignore it. Photos of him would still come to light. It was, in fact, one of the discussions he had with the company days before.

“Your brother doesn't want to hear you, but I do. What is more important than your brother’s wedding now?”

Shit.

Jae was now talking to someone who came to tell him news about Eun, and he had walked away. He could only hear the echo of people talking, laughing, and happiness. Yoongi didn't want to have that conversation right now.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“You’re being unfair right now.”

The man sighed.

“I’m just asking, Yoongi." And his voice sounds different too, so Yoongi didn’t like it. “If I’m not right, why don’t you tell me? You know I know when you're right, and I'm not. I'm not stubborn, you're locking yourself in."

Yoongi wrinkled his nose because he was right in a way, and he hated that it was like that. It was true; he didn't know why he felt so cornered all of a sudden. Stretching his arms and looking at the ground, he became a little dizzy. His whole body suddenly hurt; maybe all the fatigue of those months came upon him.

“Working.” He was honest even so, knowing what was coming. His father didn’t move in any sense. “I was working, but it wasn't'more important than this’. They wouldn't let me go, for real.”

“You didn’t take a day off?”

“I can’t. I’m on tour right now, and I asked permission, but you know that they’re not flexible with the times.

“Just like your mother's birthday. Or every Christmas.” He sounds sad now, almost disappointed. Mad, but really sad. “We invite you, but you never come. Your brother was shaking yesterday. He really wanted to see you.”

There was silence. A big one, where you could still hear the murmurs of the people, the echo of the grandeur of the place, the clicking of heels, and the shy laughter. He gave them both time to realize where they were, that they were in suits, and that, after all, he hadn't seen that man in a long, long time.

Yoongi's apology stuck in his throat—another genuine apology.

A third.

“I'm sorry, son.” His father says instead. Yoongi had heard it a few times in his 30s. “I understand. We understand, but... we always do. Me, your mother, and your brother today. He has all the right to be mad; we all are, but you’re doing your best, and we’re getting old too.” This time he looked at him, smiling a little. Yoongi does too, but his was a sad one. “Just don’t forget about your family. I just hope I make it to your wedding too.”

“Pff.” They laughed, and the son nodded, his nose still wrinkled just thinking about it. “I can only do the first one, sorry. That’s why Jae did it first. Maybe I don't invite you to a wedding, but you have been sitting more than once watching me in a stadium with more people than here.” He looked at his brother with his eyes. He continued talking to that woman, nodding, biting his lip, having an awful time, and if it wasn't bad, then something questionable. Yoongi could swear his palms were sweating. “I honestly don't feel like... being that worried.”

His father looked nothing in the front, with a smirk on his face. Yoongi realized how old he turned again.

“You just haven't found the right person to be like this for.”

That doesn’t sound like his father. At all.

He looked at him again and couldn't say anything when his brother was already in front of them, smiling and wiping the sweat from his hands.

He knew it.

“She’s about to arrive, take your seat.”

Yoongi left the back of the chair where there was supposed to be another person there who wasn't there, and frowning, he looked around the room without really doing it, realizing that he was missing someone to greet.

“Where’s mom?”

And as if he hadn't been listening to laughter, murmurs, and voices of people for ten minutes that filled his ears non-stop, right after that question, a specific laugh seemed to answer his doubt, reversing his pressure and causing a strong shiver to run down the back of his neck.

He turned quickly, perhaps even a little disbelievingly, and then, he saw you.

Not his mother, though. Or yes, her too, but his eyes fell on you first because it was always like that, because that was your laugh, and because it was impossible not to.

Far away. The possibility of having heard your laughter was quite unlikely, even impossible. Seven or eight rows back. Of course, you were wearing baby blue, delicate, and tight. The fabric didn’t shine like your gloves do, and you had your long hair loose, tied up from the top just a little. You laughed heartily, teeth on display, his mother being the cause of your smile and your bright eyes. Such honest and grateful happiness, because why not, you both looked exaggeratedly happy to be in front of each other again. Her mother held your hands tightly, moving them up and down in time with her words, and you just nodded and responded briefly.

His heart stopped. He could swear he had even forgotten to breathe.

Yoongi didn't enjoy eye contact.

He usually runs away from it. He feels stupid, and he gets embarrassed quickly. It's a tense situation for him, but he was wishing with all his might that you two had it at that moment. That his eyes were heavy enough for you to turn to look at him and take a good look at you because your eyes had always been big and expressive, and he needed to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating.

At least that's what they were like the last time he saw them, so many years ago that he couldn't count them, and from what he saw from there, many things had changed.

You look breathtaking. You've always looked this pretty, but right now…

He didn't know if it was because he hadn't seen you in person for many years, up close, but unpleasant things were happening to him. His legs trembled when you finally looked back. Big eyes, make-up on, pretty color, and they opened, your moves frozen, and somehow, you two had an extremely uncomfortable visual conversation, as if you were face to face, and you didn't know what to say.

To his surprise, your gaze quickly changes to a more confident, almost cold look, and you bow with extreme lightness to say hello without intending to break contact. However, his mother did, hugging goodbye to you as soon as everyone started tidying up, music started playing, and Yoongi was forced to sit down, trembling, sweating, and unfocused, remembering how you looked.

He was there again, in real life, in Daegu, where he was born and grew up, where it was hot and dangerous to go out at night, where they used to live, and where he used to get lost when he could.

He had arrived that morning, but his brother, his parents, and you brought him back home.

“Shit.”

Not in a comfy, lullaby way. More like a cold water falling from the sky directly on the ground/ type of way.

He was there. You were there, feeling better than him, of course, but you don’t know. You had the whole month to mentally prepare for that reunion. Obviously you had a better handle on it, but you were also shaking, and you had to take a couple of breaths before you were ready for the wedding.

“Good?”

Seun was next to Greum when everything happened, in a way waiting as a spectator. Both in silence, from afar. Now he was waiting for you to respond, so he could start the recording in case you said something compromising. Both of you were in your assigned seats, with Jae at the altar.

“If it’s better than him, then yes, I’m great.” He laughed and checked at the entrance in case Eun was peeking out. He wanted to see her dress. You shake your shoulders, trying not to look in his direction again, releasing tension.

“Well, I don’t judge him. Jae didn’t tell him you were here.”

You scoff, “He didn’t? We're some show to you two or something?” putting your brother's arm away (with more force than necessary. It bothers you that he didn't take seriously how you felt. More now that you were especially sensitive) so you can record properly. The music began to overwhelm you a bit.

Now. Suddenly they were all in order, therefore quieter, so you two had to continue the conversation in whispers. Jae was waiting for his future wife; the doors of the place were open, but nothing was happening yet.

“He told me months ago that he wasn’t sure if he would arrive. The invitation was made, but he hasn't seen him for almost a year. When-“ he stops, unlocking his phone that had turned off for not pressing record yet, making you smile. Your older brother reminded you a lot of your father sometimes, and you rarely saw him so excited and well groomed at the same time. Your dress color and his suit matched too. His idea. “When Yoongi confirmed he was coming, Jae didn’t have the time to tell him. So yeah,” you looked at him when he did, blinking. “I know he’s feeling a lot of things right now.”

Well, that was weird.

That doesn’t sound like Yoongi, Yoongi loves his brother, his family, at least the one you know.

The type of relationship you had now (null) didn't allow you to say that out loud, and, strictly speaking, you didn't understand his reaction either. He looked genuinely surprised; it shouldn't affect him if he was the one who broke everything in the first place. You assumed it had just been the surprise, and it would take you a good stretch of the night to be able to let go of the fact that they were there, so close but so far, to let go of the possibilities of talking, hugging him, and telling him how much you had missed him, know about him, how he handled things. Just as before. Because it didn't help you to think like that, and because how pretty and beautiful your best friend looked right now, happy, in white, and excited, couldn't be placed on anything else.

You hoped you could breathe in peace for the rest of the night. Although at some point you thought you could do it without problems, because once you wiped away the tears that came out of you when you saw Eun enter and the ceremony took place, between your brother talking to you, you were laughing at him because he had also cried halfway through. On the way, the rest of your family arrived, and an inexplicable happiness that ran through you as you were surrounded by so many people that you knew and hadn't seen in years consumed you, your head stayed busy. A lot, and you still had it in mind, but you were not alone, and that made you feel good, safe, and a little calmer.

It was easy for you not to give him your night. At least the first part of it.

Apparently, after the ceremony, the party, and celebration would take place in the same place. You weren't really surprised, in fact, it moved you even more because the place was gigantic, very tall, and beautiful, almost like a theater, and there were many, many people, enough to fill the place. Not in a suffocating way, but enough to get lost. It was mostly of age, older people, maybe grandparents you hadn't managed to meet before, and then there were people directly younger, but you knew those, Seun was a people butterfly. Friends of theirs, you assumed. Actually, Seun stopped explaining who the boy was sitting next to one of her good friends when a man, tall and good-looking, started to talk on a microphone.

“Now, now, and congratulating the bride and groom once again, we would like to call the loved ones of both to say a few words before the fun part starts.

Everyone laughed, and Seun looked at you. You forgot about that part.

“Let’s start with the parents…”

“I can go for you instead.”

“It’s okay.” You smile. You knew that he was doing his best to be able to contain you, and give you the best company, despite the fact that it was not easy for him. “I’m not made of glass.” You joke, listening to Eun’s mother speak already.

And well, for him, you were. At least right now, but he didn’t say it, scoffing to hide his thoughts. “I’m trying to be good. Dad it’s watching now, I have to be an example.”

“For what.”

“Shut up, don’t be disrespectful.”

You try not to laugh. He was nervous now. You never understood why it was so difficult for him to admit that he cared for others. Not even with Jae he dared to do it, or at least that's what you thought. You didn't know how he would tell the truth in his speech.

You were the last one. You knew this because when you arrived, Jae told you. Eun wasn't supposed to know you were there. Of course, she had invited you, but she didn't know if you would finally attend because you hadn't been able to communicate with anyone these last few months. You met once, when she came to see you at your house, but you couldn't talk about much. You were on another planet, it was like your head was disconnected from your body most of the time, and she assumed you wouldn't go.

You wanted to think that she hadn't seen you when she passed, but you doubted it. With the amount of people there, and with how focused she was on Jae, it was impossible.

Still, you were nervous. When you accepted, you didn't think you would be in front of so many people. Your heart was beating.

“Is that Yoongi?” Nara, your sister, asked your mother just behind you when he got position and greeted everyone.

“Yeah. Why he wouldn't?” Your mom responded a bit confused. You could hear her smile.

“I think you all were joking when you told me he was on BTS, for real. It doesn’t look at all like the Yoongi I knew.” You hear a laugh, a gentile one, and then your other brother making fun of her behind. Your dad scolds them.

Now, you take advantage of the moment to take a better look at him.

You wanted to blame it on the fact that your sister was only nine when she met Yoongi, and every time he appeared on TV or in videos she was told it was him, she just couldn't believe it. You just hoped those were her blurry memories of him, because you couldn't see him too differently from how you remembered it.

Maybe his hair was longer, he was paler, taller, his back had grown considerably, and he had that special glow that any celebrity would have. He looked like an entire adult now, too. He wore expensive clothes and good shoes, although he didn't seem to have put any effort into his hair, or his appearance in general, he looked incredibly unreal, so much that it makes you angry.

If you thought about it enough, and if you didn't know it was him, you would’ve struggled to recognize him too. You often saw him in magazines, posters, on buildings in Busan, on train pamphlets, on your cell phone and even in medicine, but seeing him in person was overwhelming. It was like seeing a stranger you already knew, but better yet, he was there, but at the same time he wasn't.

You take a deep breath when you realize that, despite all those things, his features were still just as soft and delicate, just like his mother's.

His knuckles still turned red without much effort, and he smiled the same way, making that slight pout with his lips before crying, trying to contain it, and he wiped the tears carelessly. You found your Yoongi in the one you were looking at right now, with little things, with gestures, with details that you used to admire more than necessary, they were still there.

and it made you feel nauseous.

You blinked a few times, snapping out of your trance as everyone applauded, and realized you hadn't heard a single word. He had even cried, and you didn't know why. You saw Jae stand up as he was called to take position on the small stage, and a much louder round of applause made you jump lightly. They came from behind, just that young section that assumed they were friends of both. There were a lot of people, and it didn't surprise you that Seun was already fooling around on his way to the small stage there.

“How are you feeling, blossom?"

Your father asked, taking advantage of the fact that you turned around to look at the crowd and that your brother was not there. They were both looking at you, and the rest of your brothers were talking among themselves.

“I'm okay.” It wasn't necessarily a lie. You felt just as bad as you do every day. Besides, you knew that they were referring to something more specific (Min Yoongi) than to your general emotional state, so you smiled slightly, closed, and placed your hand on your mother's, who was on your arm. “I’m good; don’t worry.”

As you predicted, Seun's speech was so unserious and absurd that it's not worth dwelling on. For some reason, everyone was laughing with him, he had livened up the atmosphere and unintentionally infected everyone with joy.

He soon returned to his seat and sat still with applause in the background. You couldn't believe it.

“I don’t get why he’s still your friend.”

“We’re in love, sister.” He asure. “This wedding is for three people. They will never get rid of me.”

“Shut up.”

“Now.” The good-looking man says “Briefly before eating and doing fun things, we have one more person who wants to wish you both the best, of course.”

You can see Eun’s confused look at her husband now, and he quickly grabs her hand. Your heart was ricing, you felt your mother's hand on your shoulder.

“Park ___, please."

Eun almost jumped from her seat, looking around, looking for you. You also saw someone else look for you in the crowd when you were getting up a little stiff because of your dress. You say sorry to an old woman right in front of you, who you accidentally hit softly because Seun didn’t move at the right moment.

“Oh my god.”

You didn't have time to get halfway down the hall to the front when a large white dress ran towards you to hug you. You smiled at the impact because you were a little taken aback by how strong it came and how big her dress was. You smiled when you already had her in your arms.

“You have been here all this time?”

“Of carouse.”

“Oh my god, thank you…” she softly says, hugging you even harder.

“I wouldn’t miss the happiest moment of your life.”

Because it had cost you, but you had arrived. Was she crying? Thank goodness people were still clapping because of the moving nature of the situation, and they couldn't hear you. You were trying so hard not to cry too.

If you did it, you wouldn't stop.

“I know you-“

“It’s okay.” You stopped her. “I’m okay.”

You squeezed her waist as a signal for you to start moving, and she moved away from you to caress your face lovingly and look at you like... most people have looked at you lately with pity and kissed your forehead.

Pity.

She took your hand, and the entire way, you could feel Yoongi's gaze on you. From the moment she hugged you until she kissed you and started leading you forward, like an exhibition, heavy, right next to you. He made you feel small, it was silly.

“Now stop crying; I haven't said anything yet.” You start, with the microphone in your hands, making everybody laugh, the couple too, Jae helping her with the tears. The place was in silence, the lights, the eyes, and the attention were just on you. So you take a deep breath and unfold the paper you’ve got prepared. “I- uh~” a sigh. “I don’t know how people do this without crying, I- okay.” You were nervous, but the place laughed again, so it gave you time to breathe.

“I still remember you both being taller than me, smarter than me, and older than me. I know that deep down all of you were so done of me, right behind there too,” all those people scream from behind, and you laugh. “because I used to talk a lot, and I carry my toys everywhere, so I can show it to all of you, and I made too many questions for people who are starting to be teenagers and want to look cool, but I wasn’t. I didn’t even care, I remember that. I was the pain in the ass that comes with Seun. Just a plus because Seun it’s a bother himself.” The aforementioned rolled his eyes, and you waited for there to be silence so you could continue. “I understand that now, and I just came here to apologize.”

The atmosphere after the laughter was now a little solemn, and in contrast to your brother, you were capable of poisoning the things you touched, and those who knew you knew that. You could see the newlyweds were a little worried, but you kept smiling, giving them confidence that nothing bad was going to happen. At least that wasn't your intention.

“Sorry for being the impediment for you to go out late at night or for having to return early from wherever we were... I- was with you.” Uh. You try to keep the smile. Shit, “sorry for being so annoying, and sorry for the fact that I didn't care. Because as much as I didn't like being with you sometimes, the best part of my day was watching you eat at my table, or Mrs. Min organizing my birthdays, and everyone coming with gifts that I genuinely liked because you all heard what I was saying even if I was giving you a headache.”

Unintentionally, you met those eyes again from afar, just when you were trying to control that lump in your throat because the worst part was coming, and you didn't know if you were ready. You said the following while still looking at Yoongi, not at you, surprisingly. “I miss it. I really do, and I’m so grateful that I carry all that with me.”

You look at the paper, change the page, and breathe. So you try once “I-“ and twice. “I- um…” a shaking breath sounds everywhere, reading the words, but you just can’t. “Sorry~” you're softly trying to laugh as you cry start, and you feel so stupid for breaking in front of a lot of people. No because it was bad, everybody there cried before you, but not because of the same thing.

“I love you!” You didn’t know who it was, but you smiled and responded with a really quiet and shaking'me too', giving you time to breathe as everybody laughed, and the atmosphere eased.

“Okay.” You say more to yourself, but you have a mic on your mouth, of course. “I didn’t write this part alone. Kija he… he is my twin, so of course he was with me in all of this story, but when he got sick and we were writing this months ago, he told me that I didn’t mention him in all this because it was going to be about me, not him… he’s kinda dumb.”

You laugh, trying not to tear up. You were holding the next tears, but like, fighting demons and everything to not cry. You, for real, didn’t want to cry in front of all those people. Your voice was obviously trapped in your chest, and it was shaking, but you couldn't do anything but breathe. You just have to be quick.

“But he told me that he wanted to tell you both that he and I were very proud to have seen you grow together, hate each other together, and deny that you liked each other together and today, for me, seeing you two married means a lot. I adore you two with all my heart. Congratulations, and I know you’re going to do a great job. I'm sure Kija would have done a better job telling him in person, but I'm here for him, so you know. He would- have loved to come, I have no doubt. Be happy, please, and no babies yet; I’m not ready.”

You didn’t remember anything after that, which means two things:

One, you need to calm down because two, you weren’t fine.

You remember the hug, and a few words both of them told you, and all the looks people gave you just after that, full of sadness and compassion (which was the first thing that made you want to run away). And at the party, you dance because you enjoy it, and you feel a little better, but people stop you all the time to give you their condolences because “they didn’t know”.

The cake was cut, the presentation was done, and you could only come back to the moment when you had your first drink of whiskey, and your body told you that it wasn’t a good idea. Your heart was fast in your chest, that would only make it worse with alcohol.

You need to breathe.

“Sorry, what?!”

You scream behind the music. Some girl named Hwan stopped you. (It came right at the beginning, when Seun was next to you, and you were pretending to listen to how she had recently graduated. Poor girl, honestly, she looks kind and lovely.) with two glasses of tequila and some salt in her hand.

“My friend!” She said. “I lost him, so take this!”

And then:

“Hurry! I have to go for more before they run out!” You were too agitated for this. This is a bad idea ___. “c’mon c’mon honey!”

Your hands were tingling, your breathing was short, and you were afraid. You had tried to go to the bathroom, but it was full, and it was even more claustrophobic than all those people. Right next to it, there were some stairs that you assumed went up to the balconies that surrounded the place. You were very grateful that it was high, enough to encapsulate the music on the floor below, and you heard it as if you were listening from a glass.

Or was it you?

You leaned on the railing and began to sweat. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, to look for things to think about, to feel something other than fear and anguish at the same time, but it was impossible, completely, and that made you even more desperate. You were breathing as if you had just run for two hours non-stop, and there came a point where your legs couldn't support your body. You couldn't feel your hands, cried a lot, trying to catch air, moaned in terror.

“please please please… stop just-“

You were trying not to faint, you were on the edge of a high place, and it was now dark for those below. It was when you felt like you really couldn't do anything. That you tried to stand back in case your body gave way forward, and it wasn't more dangerous when you felt hands on your stomach directly and the warmth of a body behind you.

A warm feeling that felt like burning on a straight fire

“Easy~ here,” you heard, far away from you, just like the music in a glass. The only thing that told you that he was literally glued to you was his touch. “Can you feel my hand?” You didn't respond, trying to run away. You didn’t want to be touched. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe. If you want to feel better, you have to answer me, okay?”

“Hmm” a moan full of pain, was not even an answer.

“Okay?” They asked again. This time you nodded and felt the hand move on your stomach, the fingers more than anything, like playing a piano. Soft, but rough at the same time. “Can you feel it?” Your two hands were placed on his in an attempt to find support; you couldn't feel your legs, and after giving him an affirmative answer with your head, you complained again, your head was about to explode. “Move my hand with your stomach as you breathe.” And you did. Erratic and desperate “That’s good, but try it slower. Focus on moving it, not on breathing.”

“I- I ca-“

"Yes, you can. You do it every day; come on.”

You know, you just didn’t want to be there.

You try your best to move his hand. It was hard because you were sobbing, and trying your best to not think too much. So you closed your eyes, exhausted, and concentrated on the warmth that the stranger was giving you and the hold that, while at first it felt overwhelming and suffocating, now it helped. You felt stronger, even though you were about to faint.

So you moved the hand, and it worked.

“Good~ breathe.”

The air filled your lungs little by little, your head began to quiet, and the music entered your ears at a decent volume considering how far you were from the ground. Your hands were cold, they were shaking, but you could move them, and you still couldn't feel your legs, but you could hear the trembling of your breathing and how your nervous system was trying to regulate itself, blocking your crying in your chest.

You were exhausted, god, you would sleep there if you could.

“Better?”

And then you realize.

You know that voice.

It was soft, deep, and in your ear. So close that if you turned to see him, both of you would collide. His hands were bigger than they used to be and softer to the touch, pale on your baby blue dress, no scrapes like you used to heal, he’s no longer biting his nails.

‘Shit’

“Don’t touch me.” You said. He tense.

“If I let you go, you will fall. You're not even holding yourself up.”

He was right. And you hate it.

“What are you doing here.”

Your voice sounded agitated, almost like a whisper. You still didn't dare open your eyes; your eyelids were heavy, and the fear of facing him so close made you delirious. Even though you had your back turned to him, you felt him snort.

“God. You’re welcome?” You clung tighter to his hand. It's just that you got dizzy, and he held you when he felt you give way to the left. “I should ask that. You almost passed out on the railing, idiot, that's… fucked up.”

He calls you an idiot? You were too weak to call him something worse.

So you only say "sorry." Instead, letting him go finally, and you tried to stand up by yourself, but you wobbled

“Okay, okay, please don’t. I’m gonna…” His hands took place on your hips to guide you to some chairs in the corner, which you didn't see at first, of course. You weren't sure if his touch hurt more now that you were more conscious or before, when you were overstimulated. Felt the same, honestly. “Be careful, they look old.” You walked as he commanded, and once you sat down, you heard him say something you couldn't decipher. You finally opened your eyes to ask, but there was no sign of anyone.

Sighing, you rested your head in your hands and closed your eyes again. You didn't know if you were still dizzy and weak or if you felt that way because you were already drunk. They both make sense to you.

You heard noise after a few seconds and looked up. Finally, Yoongi's silhouette appeared in the hallway, he had things in his hands, and he was looking at the glass of water, concentrating so that nothing would fall on the floor.

“I’m definitely too drunk for this.”

This can't be happening to you. Could not.

“I put ice on it, so you can chew. It will help.”

His voice sounded unfriendly to what he was saying. Not angry or indifferent, but rather nervous and tense, as if he were speaking by opening his mouth a little, trying to make you believe that it was no a big deal, as always, but his nervousness didn't allow him to fool you. You raised your eyes to look at his, and he turned them away once you brought them together. You tried to hide a smile as you received the glass. Of course, he couldn't look you in the eyes. He cleared his throat, finally watching you receive the water, trembling in your hold. He tries to hold it from below in case you drop it.

You took a sip.

“Your makeup is smudged.”

Of course. You must have been looking stupid.

“What is that?"

He was offering you something, like toilet paper, but softer on a package. You couldn't see very well, it was just white.

“I’m not really sure.” He confesses. “I take them from the bathroom. They’re damp.”

You touch it with two of your fingers, just to not be rude, honestly.

“Thanks, but I can’t really see myself here.” There was no mirror, and if there was, it was dark. The only lights there were those on the dance floor, which were colored and did not shine directly on the place you two were having this... moment. “I don’t really care though, I’m living soon anyway”

He didn't insist, putting the package in his pocket. You maintained a silence that would have been more awkward if the music downstairs wasn't on, and if you didn't have anything to chew at that moment. Neither of you dared to look at each other, or start a conversation because it wasn't even enough for something cordial. You didn't have the strength to get up and run away, but just when you were going to tell him that you were okay, and he could leave, he took something out of his pocket.

Now you are invested.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You looked at him from there, taking time to process the information. You shook your head slightly, maybe even confused, but there was no point in being.

“Can you even smoke here?”

The place was big but closed, you didn't know if it was allowed.

“I doubt it.”

“Since when do you smoke?” You dared to ask.

“I don’t.”

No, because he hates the smell. His mother has smoked since ever. Yoongi hates that the smell gets stuck in everything and everywhere. No matter how much his mother smoked outside the house, he always ended up with his school clothes smelling like cigarettes. It was inevitable. He always complained.

There you were watching him right now, right in profile, blowing smoke from his cigarette as if he did it every day, even though he said he doesn't. Arms resting on the railing, well-dressed, looking anywhere but at you.

You wanted to stop assuming that this Yoongi was the same one who had left years ago. Because you didn't know, you were both two completely new people, total strangers who knew nothing about each other, yet, you wanted to think that, if that were the case, he would have already left. He usually walks away from what he doesn't care about or doesn't like, that's what he did with you when he left, because that's how you felt. It was nice to believe that he was now there himself because he wanted to be, but it didn't help you to think about it, not now. Just because he was there didn't mean he was back in your life, and as silly as it sounded, your brain didn't understand that. It was your job to stop him from believing something like that.

You chew ice.

“I don’t want to ruin the party for you. Go ahead.” Your voice is still dumb. He was watching the people dancing from there, now he was looking at you, smoking the cigarette between his fingers without understanding what you meant. “I’m feeling better, you can go.”

“Okay.” He directed his body directly towards you. Unintentionally intimidating. “Do you want me to go?”

His presence made you anxious.

“Yes. But if I’m honest, I don’t really want to be alone right now.” He hums. “But I have seven siblings, and all of them are downstairs right now. I can call any of them.”

“They will scold you for not saying anything and me for not seeking help.”

“I know.” He looked at you, quietly. “I just don’t want to... keep you here. Have some fun.”

He shook his head, looking away.

“It’s okay. I was here first, drinking. Then you came. You scared me.”

You blink a few times. “You’ve spent all the night in here?”

“Most of it.” You followed his eyes down on the first floor, full of people. You could see everything from there. If you focused on one person, you could easily track them. “Enough to watch you dance and get drunk.”

“Creep.” He smiles a little.

“That’s why I wasn’t sure it was you. I went to get my whiskey, and I swear I saw you two minutes before taking a shot of tequila. I thought you were just drunk.”

You frowned, settling into the couch. You felt genuinely bad.

“Now I’m scared. For real.”

“Not intentional. I can literally watch my brother kiss Eun from here every five minutes, even if I don’t want to.” Yoongi plays with his ice, then drinks the rest in one go.

You gulped.

Thinking about it more was counterproductive for your mental health, you knew it, you understood it, it was practically self-sabotage, but right now, you gave yourself perhaps ten seconds to admire the beauty that Min Yoongi carried all by himself.

He looked so different, and everything that had changed elevated his beauty to places... god. You had met at a very young age too, in years, you could also say that you had changed enough to be mentioned at some point by a family member who hadn't seen you in a while, for example. You are an adult now, but it was impressive.

To think that you stopped seeing Yoongi right when he was being built into an idol says a lot. Everything about him looked expensive and well cared for, his soft hair, smooth skin, long eyelashes, immaculate hands, as if they were not obliged to do anything that would harm them. How his throat moved as the drink passed into his system, the lack of reaction of his features despite being strong, and having drunk almost half of the short glass.

The feeling that rose to your stomach made you come back, and from well-being, it turned into discomfort in your chest. He was there, he looked so attractive, and you couldn't do anything.

You couldn’t hug him, tell him how much you missed him and hit him nonstop because even when you’re still so into him, you were hurt too, and this situation was so out of your hands.

“I’d liked your speech. It was good.”

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't done it alone, but why would you do that? You didn't answer.

“You’re still writing?”

This time, you denied it almost instinctively. The truth is, you didn't want to give additional information to, in a way, a stranger, but you had already screwed up. “No. A long time ago I-“ stopped when you left, but of course you kept quiet.

When it was about Yoongi and whether you thought about the young you who loved that person in front of you so much and how dependent you were on someone who didn't care how you felt, it made you feel so stupid. And it didn't really make sense because you were young and inexperienced, and you had an important bond, so of course you will be hurt, you had more compassion than resentment. But still,

“-just don’t do it anymore.”

You didn't want to feel that weak again. He nodded.

“Why haven't you left if you don't want to be here?” You changed the topic. You weren't looking at him, but you felt his attention return to you, and he responded with his silence, then you looked up, and he avoided you again. “You're still not a party guy?” He didn't respond again, knowing that you knew the answer, so you smiled. “Yeah, you weren't either back then.” You say that just for yourself.

“I want to, though. Hyung it’s happy, and I haven't seen my family in a long time. My dad told me he was waiting for my wedding too. I stayed so maybe the event convinced me.”

“Your dad?” He nodded in disbelief as well. “That doesn’t sound like your dad. And also, the event?” A snort left your mouth as he looked at you, nodding. “ I don’t think it’s just about the event, you know?”

“Yeah. He told me that too.”

You laughed this time. You like that men.

“That doesn’t sound like him either.”

“I know.”

You missed Yoongi’s parents. They were so different from yours.

“You were, I remember.”

“What.”

“A party person. I always went with you and watched you dance because I didn't like it. Then we would leave late and buy ice cream at the convenience store downtown because you always craved some.” You nodded, trying to manage the pain that the memory caused you. “I've never seen you cry in one before.”

You played with the ice that was left, because the question was not directly a question, it was more of a mention, perhaps so as not to ignore what just happened. He knew you wouldn't answer and that you shouldn't either. You wrinkled your nose, uncomfortable.

“Where do you learn all of it?”

Containment, you meant.

“Hm.” He took a second. “These ten years have been interesting.” A laugh, and you try your best again. “I saw a member of our staff do it to Jungkook once, the first time. We were very young, but I’ve never forgotten it in case it happened again. It happened a couple of times after that, so I… know.”

And it's as if the anguish you had come back to you once you touched where his hands were for the first time in 10 years, and you had to close your eyes just because you felt upset. You didn't want to be there, you remembered. Not only because you didn't want to see him, but because you didn't feel well, and you put him over your emotions again.

Fucking hell.

“Your brother it’s looking for you.” You nodded, opening your eyes slightly.

“Of course he is…” you murmured, overwhelmed, trying to stand up. But you were feeling bad again, so you waited a little.

“Do you want me to-“

“No.”

You didn't know why you were so angry all of a sudden. Your heart was beating again, you started to feel warm even though the place was quite cold because of how big it was, and you were actually grateful that they cared about you, but you had spent all those months feeling like a burden to others.

You tried not to cause too many problems, you didn't want that kind of attention, especially after having been living alone, away from your family for so long, to live with them again. You went from making your own food to your mother having to sit next to you so you could eat something. From leaving early to work to not even knowing what time it was. From calling them to tell them good things, to having to pretend to sleep so as not to receive questions you didn't want to answer. You couldn't take care of yourself, it was something that you were having a hard time facing, because you wanted to do it, to be well so as not to be the burden of your family, but the pain you had was still just as big, and heavy, and it enveloped your entire chest. Squeezing. It didn't let you swallow, speak, cry, or breathe.

You were crying again. This time in silence, you didn't care that Yoongi was watching you in silence too, not knowing what to do.

"Where's the… dump thing you bought.”

He reacted a little slowly but quickly, searching for it, taking it out of his jacket pocket. You nodded.

“Can you clean my face, please? I don’t want to look like this when he finds me, and he will if I go to the bathroom right now.”

That one seemed to get him out of somewhere, because it did take him longer to process the information. He was standing with the towels in his hand and blinking, almost like a cat, a confused one. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think you had said anything wrong, so you got scared, and you wondered if maybe you, in fact, said something wrong.

“I can try, though. You don’t-“

“I’ll do it.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you. You can smell his strong and manly cologne, and if you raised your eyes to his face enough, you could see him up close, closer than you had for many years again. Older, smelling that way, his marked features but you didn't. Of course not.

You close your eyes.

The two of you were silent, and it took you a few minutes to begin to feel the softness with which he ran over your face, the left side of your cheek, extremely light, almost afraid to touch you. You opened your eyes, and he wasn't looking where he was supposed to clean.

He looked at your face, carefully, perhaps making sure it was really you who was in front of him. He stopped his hand when your eyes connected, and it lasted only a few seconds, but you felt so much tension that you even doubted if it was wrong for you to pretend as if you didn't have things to talk about, before having any kind of contact. Whatever it was.

After that, he looked at you with pity.

The last one that night, you decide.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were stronger than him when it came to holding a gaze. He has always been the first to escape, which is why your gaze was very intense, heavy, and powerful. You could do it because you felt it was the most honest way to know if someone could handle you.

“Sorry.”

Yoongi had never been able to look at you for more than five seconds.

He resumed his work with the same smoothness. The music returned to your ears, and you returned to your place, to your life, to the now and to how your body was screaming to get out of there. You closed your eyes, chest tight and hands tense, trying to control their shaking.

You have bigger things to cry about right now than this. You had done it for a long time now; you had no more tears to cry for Min Yoongi, no reason to be nervous anymore, and no reason why you couldn't live in peace anymore.

“I’m sorry about Kija.” His voice was smooth, almost lullaby. He sounds nervous too, and just because of that, your response was also automatic. If it had been genuine, you would have had another panic attack right there.

“It’s okay.”

‘You are grieving. Don't expect anything better. Let us help you’

They were all grieving too.

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t- I didn’t know.”

There. Was there when you wanted to scream and punch him so hard enough to make him feel guilty.

“What do you mean.” To be honest, it doesn't even surprise you. You sensed it, but you had the small hope that he saw it… at least. “I texted you. Jae- he give me your number. I was waiting for you at his funeral.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay.”

You said instead. Yoongi looked terrified.

“I-“ he cut himself. “…was-“

You take his hand softly, stopping him. “It’s okay, Yoongi.”

“Wait.” One of his hands is on your wrist, preventing you from getting up. You didn't feel good, but you would do anything to get out of there. Still, you sat back down because you didn’t expect it.

“I’m sorry.”

Three.

The only thing you could hear was your heart beating; everything went quiet, and the words went away, an echo.

“It’s” You were far enough away to miss his scent or to see his new appearance. It was as if he disappeared into the darkness. “okay.”

And it was okay, not because that was exactly how it was, but because it didn't matter. It was okay because it didn't matter if he responded or not, he didn't have to. You were the one who was doing wrong by continuing to trust someone who had already failed you many times, and now you were choosing not to fall for anything sure.

It was okay, because there was no important bond that bonded you two, and allowed you to do bad things where there was nothing good to destroy.

And it was okay, because you simply didn't want to continue having him in front of you, talking about one of the most important people in your life, and seeing how he looked at you with pity. So it was okay.

But Yoongi had said sorry three times that day, and he hadn't been able to genuinely fix any of them.

—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________

teaser masterlist two

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#yoongi au #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #bts headcanons #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi series #min yoongi #slow burn

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simp4thedemonbros · 2 years

Text

The Brothers walk in on MC getting changed

Hello my loves! A much lighter one than the last, I really enjoyed writing and having fun with this one.

SFW!! :)

I’ve been gone for a while because I’ve been struggling w/ my mental health and I’ve had a few people being kinda mean to me lately and it hasn’t helped my headspace, but I hope you’re all having a nice day and that you enjoy this short lil piece. Love you lots :)

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Pairing: Brothers x gn!MC

Word Count: 1034

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Lucifer

He’s probably coming to remind you about chores or to complain about something one of the brothers (ahem Mammon) has done because you are his emotional support human.

Probably like a parent who knocks but then just walks in before you can say anything to stop him so you don’t even get a chance to tell him you’re changing

His eyes widen as soon as he realises his mistake.

Closes the door way too hard and it slams behind him.

You’re 100% stood in the centre of your room half naked with the most flabbergasted expression.

He is on the other side of your door blushing.

He had to leave before you saw his face go beet red, his pride wouldn’t be able to handle you knowing you flustered him so much.

He waits for a response every single time he knocks now, even if you’ve invited him to your room.

Mammon

We all know this boy is NEEDY, he is coming for attention.

Barges in, no knock, no nothing.

COMPLETELY FLUSTERED!

He is looking (dis)respectfully.

The man is IN LOVE with you, come on.

Definitely acts like you’re the pervert to hide his embarrassment.

“ AHH! What’re you doing just getting changed in the open like that!” “....Mams this is my bedroom…and the door was closed?” “I DON’T WANT EXCUSES, YA PERVERT!”

He is beet red.

Honestly his yelling probably made his brothers come running to see what the issue was.

Good luck explaining this to them all.

And good luck living it down, you KNOW this will be a random ‘Hey, remember when…” topic for the next 300 years.

Leviathan

You’ve most likely invited him to your room to watch TSL or an anime marathon or something and you probably thought you had time to change into something more comfy before he got to your bedroom.

You didn’t.

He’s probably looking down at his D.D.D when he enters your room and so doesn’t realise for a good 5 seconds that you’re half naked.

You froze when you realised what just happened.

When he looks up the man IMMEDIATELY faints.

Obviously what you’re doing no longer matters and you rush over to make sure he’s okay

When he comes to he realises you’re STILL half naked and EVEN CLOSER to him

The man is on the verge of a heart attack

“M-MC PLEASE I CAN’T TAKE THIS!”

Man can’t look you in the eyes for a week and can’t look in your general direction for a month without blushing.

Satan

He’s likely on his way to help you study or to complain about something Lucifer has done (or both, both is good)

Similar to Lucifer, will knock but walk in before you respond.

A lot more composed than his brothers.

Apologises for walking in on you and turns his back while closing your door to give you privacy. (respectful king)

LET ME TELL YOU THOUGH MAN IS BLUSHING WHILE HIS BACK IS TURNED.

He’s also smiling a lot.

Will not turn back around until you assure him that it’s okay.

He’s quite satisfied to see that you’re blushing too.

Has no shame, WILL tease you about it.

He’s happy it was him who walked in on you and not one of his other brothers because he KNOWS his brother would make a HUGE deal about it. (He ain’t wrong tho)

Asmodeus

On his way to come paint your nails or give you a spa experience to help you relax from the stress of living with his brothers.

He’s the one who told you to change into something more comfortable to help you have a good time.

Honestly just walks in like it’s his bedroom.

Doesn’t even flinch. We all KNOW this man adores you and your body.

Probably just thinks that’s what you feel most comfortable in and goes to set up his stuff trying to get you to sit/lie down.

Only realises it isn’t the case when you're frantically trying to cover yourself up yelling at him to close his eyes.

Definitely tells you to not be embarrassed because he thinks you’re the most ethereal being he’s ever seen after himself.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling!”

ASMO THAT ISN’T THE POINT STOP ACTING LIKE THIS IS NORMAL AND TURN AROUND.

He does turn around and close his eyes. He doesn’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable around him, especially not in vulnerable states like you’re currently in.

Beelzebub

Coming to your room to eat snacks and watch a movie, or to just hang out with you.

I feel like this man would just not even realise what’s going on at first would just be like “Hi MC!”

He’s TALL, he probably has to actually look down to realise the situation you’re in.

VERY polite and apologetic when he finally realises why you’re staring up at him, frozen in one place and beet red.

Immediately covers his face with whatever he can, his hand, his arm, his shirt, a pillow. Hell he might even just faceplant the floor to give you respect.

Might also be trying to cover his face so you don’t see he’s also bright red.

“MC is it hot in here or what? Can you open a window please?”

Just trying his best to not embarrass you any more than you might already be but he’s STRUGGLING.

Probably rearranges what your plans were so he can go to the fridge to cool down and get a snack.

Belphegor

On his way to use you as a heated pillow to nap on.

Will just walk in, he doesn’t care, this is his house too bestie.

Honestly might even just be too sleepy to notice that you’re changing, probably just walks straight over to your bed.

Only notices when you're suddenly screaming at him to “LEARN HOW TO KNOCK!!” for the BILLIONTH time.

This has 100% happened between you both before.

He just wants to sleep, get your pjs on already MC, stop making him wait.

His excuse is probably, “I don’t care if you see me naked or changing so why do you?”

He just wants to see you flustered, he likes teasing you about it.

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 5 months

Text

I'm Sorry

Young!Haymitch Abernathy x Reader

Summary: Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Warnings: Canon-level violence, implied smut, cheating, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.1K

Masterlist

“Haymitch!” I called my boyfriend’s name as he stepped off the train. He had just won the Hunger Games. Not just the Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell. Where he competed with 47 other tributes. When he had won I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for him to come home. But then I went to his family’s home and found nothing but the bleeding bodies of his parents and younger brother.

When he finally reached me, having to fight through the throngs of excited District 12 citizens, he wiped away my tears with a smile, mistaking them for tears of joy. “I’m back, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. But as he pulled away he noticed my lack of a smile. “What?” he asked, fear creeping into his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, handing him his parents’ wedding rings. He immediately knew what that means.

“No,” he tried to deny, shaking his head. “No.”

“Y/N L/N,” the district escort’s voice rang out as he called my ex-girlfriend’s name. I was honestly surprised I had managed to comprehend it at all given that the crowd was a blurry haze and every word was melted together in my brain. But I saw her clearly as she walked up to the stage, fear and rage on her face. I assumed fear for the games, rage for me.

She had been there for me as I grieved my family’s death. Even when I pushed her away she was there for me. She was killing herself for me while I poisoned myself with booze and hate. All until I couldn’t handle her care and my rage anymore so I picked a fight.

“Can you not?!” I yelled as she tried to clean up my new house a little. “Just fucking leave it.”

Her sad expression, I regret to say, brought me satisfaction. I loved to hurt her for no reason. A small part of me was pained to hurt her, I think that’s what allowed me to push her away rather than trap her with my hate. “Sorry,” she murmured softly.

“Yeah you’ve said that before,” I spat, poison dripping from my words. “Why are you still here?”

She sighed, biting her lip. I could see she was silently debating whether or not she’d open herself up to being attacked by my again. “Because I love you,” she admitted painfully, tears pricking her eyes.

I scoffed. “Well I don’t love you anymore.” A small piece of my heart broke as I watched her shatter. I had spent weeks abusing her, something a part of me reveled in, but I had never hurt her this bad.

She nodded her head compassionately. “I understand.” And with that, she walked out of my life for what I thought would be forever. The part of me that had reveled in her pain immediately became regretful as I watched her go. My regret only continued to grow as I kept tabs on her throughout her life.

I tried to catch her eye as she took her place next to our escort but she refused to spare a glance at me. I understood, I had tortured her when I got back and had spent the better part of a year borderline stalking her.

I glanced at the crowd, finding her new boyfriend of five months, Rune, standing there, slack jawed. I rolled my eyes at the oaf as the male tribute’s name was called, Landon Caleban. Of course Rune didn’t volunteer to protect his girl. I would’ve. Eleven months ago I would’ve laughed at her reaping but now that my anger had faded a little, I would give anything to take her place.

As she was escorted into the capital building, I followed, immediately going into the room she went into. She had barely sat down by the time I entered and it broke my heart that she looked so surprised to see me. “Y/N…”

“What are you doing here, Haymitch?” she asked coldly.

“Well,” I began, taking a seat across from her, “I am your mentor. And… I also care about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well you sure as hell didn’t care about me when you told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

I looked down at my shoes, ashamed. “I know and I'm sorry. I’d take back everything if I could. I was hurt, and angry, and god… I felt so powerless.”

“And I was your helpless punching bag?” she finished for me, disgust in her eye.

I nodded regretfully. “I made you, the girl I love who did nothing but support me, into a punching bag,” I confirmed, still looking at the ground in shame.

“Loved,” was all she said. I looked at her quizzically causing her to roll her eyes again. “You said ‘girl I love.’ You should say loved.”

“No, I still love you,” I insisted.

“You’re the one who said you didn’t love me anymore.”

“That’s because I had a lot of misplaced anger,” I insisted. “Yes, I know it’s not fair that I took everything out on you and I have no right to try to tell you I love you but I do.”

“Well what good does that do me? I’m being marched to my deat-”

“Don’t!” I cut her off “…fucking say that. You’re not fucking dying. I’m your mentor, I’ll get you out of there.”

Before she could respond, the door creaked open. I knew even before he spoke that it was Rune. “Babe, oh my god.” I cringed as I knew she hated being called that. He rushed over to her side, taking her hand in his. “I don’t even know what to say… I just…”

She shook her head dismissively. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I promise I won’t date anyone else for a while,” he said genuinely, as if it were a touching thing to say. Even I knew that was probably the worst thing he could say. Y/N also stared up at him, a baffled look on her face. She made no verbal indication she heard him so I did. I scoffed, catching the little twerp’s attention. Upon seeing me, his face immediately soured. He knew who I was, what I had meant to Y/N. Everyone in 12 knew we were a couple. “Don’t you have a bottle of whiskey to down yourself in, Haymitch?” he sneered.

I just chuckled at his attempt to tell me to stay out of it. “Maybe you should try treating her decently and saying goodbye instead of planning your next random hookup.”

“You’re one to talk about ‘treating her decently,’” Rune immediately mocked.

Before I could respond, Y/N stood up. “Both of you shut up and get out.”

I started to say her name, hoping she wouldn’t kick me out too but she cut me off, insisting we both go. So I went reluctantly, making sure Rune left too. I’d be damned if I ever let him have a moment alone with her ever again.

As soon as we stepped into the hall, a woman I recognized as Y/N’s mother rushed in, tears in her eyes. As the door closed, Rune stepped close to me. “I know what you’re planning, Abernathy. But she’s not going back to you. You’re just a useless, 17 year old drunk who broke her heart. And I’m not gonna let you break her again.”

Some part of me knew he was right, I shouldn't be inserting myself in her life again but I had been missing her for the past eleven months. And now it was also my job to keep her alive despite only winning last year.

Not one to let Y/N’s rebound talk me down, I retaliated. “At least I actually believe in her and actually want to see her come out of this alive.”

Offense crossed over his face. “You don’t get to say that. You got lucky. We all know the odds, especially with you as a mentor. I’m her boyfriend, you blew your chance!” he yelled before storming off. I wanted to yell after him but I didn’t know what to say that hasn’t been said already so I just clenched my jaw before heading to the train.

I didn’t see Y/N again until we arrived at the Capitol. Probably for the best, I spent the two day journey sleeping and getting shitfaced. I hadn’t been back to the Capitol since my victory tour and I had absolutely no desire to go back but I’d be stuck doing this shit until there were two more victors.

When we all finally got off the train I finally saw her. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept since she was reaped. I honestly understood. I tried to catch her eye but she seemed determined to look everywhere but me. And before I could try to approach her, she was whisked off to styling. So reluctantly I went to the penthouse until the tribute parade.

I stood with the other mentors, watching the tribute parade. My heart stopped when I saw the District 12 chariot. The camera never bothered to focus on them long but from the glimpse I saw, Y/N was hardly clothed. As was typical for District 12 tributes. The stylists were a big fan of just dumping black powder on us.

By the time the tributes were re-entering the building, all the mentors were waiting to bring their tributes back upstairs. Heading over to the last chariot I found Landon helping Y/N down from the chariot. She struggled in her stilettos and mini black skirt. I averted my gaze from her mostly bare torso, the only thing covering her was a lace top shaped to look like smoke. Along with an unhealthy dose of black powder to portray the coal-mines. Something they did practically every year. I kept my gaze firmly on her from the shoulders up. It felt like a violation of her privacy to ogle her like all the Capitol citizens or how I would have back when we were together.

I managed to meet her gaze but she quickly looked away, refusing to look at me again. Even in the elevator I caught myself staring at her longingly, just wishing she’d at least look at me. But she never did. As we stepped into the penthouse I let her go to her room. Remembering how exhausted she must have been, I had sleeping pills sent to her room along with a steak.

The next morning I sat at the table in the main room of the penthouse, eating breakfast. My attention was caught by Landon and Y/N heading to the elevator for training. I couldn’t help but admire the way the athletic clothing hugged her body. But as I noticed what I was doing, I averted my gaze back down to my food. It wasn’t until I heard a throat clearing that I looked back up at the pair. Y/N was looking at me, a conflicted and grateful look on her face. “Thanks for the uh… stuff, last night,” she thanked quietly.

“No problem,” I replied, in slight awe that she was talking to me. She just gave me a slight smile of acknowledgement before stepping into the elevator and disappearing.

I spent the next several minutes just staring at my plate grateful that I was finally getting somewhere with her.

I watched anxiously as Y/N took the stage for her interview. She looked absolutely stunning. Of course I always thought she was stunning but I had to admit, some of the Capitol glamours I could get behind. She was practically glowing under the lights, makeup drawing attention to her best features.

As always, everything was in a slight haze but when Caesar asked her a certain question, it sobered me up a bit. “So is there anyone back home that you’re fighting for?”

Y/N did her best to give a graceful smile. She knew how to appeal to the audience. “Well, my mom is back home rooting for me. I can count on her for that.”

“How sweet. Any boys?” he suggested cheekily.

I watched as uncertainty crossed her face before she answered. “Yes,” she answered, her voice noticeably weak, “my boyfriend, Rune.”

“Aw, well isn’t that so sweet, huh folks?” The crowd made coos of sympathy. “Tell me, did he visit you before he left?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice cracking slightly again. “He said…” she trailed off before she seemed to decide what to say. “He said he couldn’t wait to see me after the games and that he loves me.” She gave a weak smile and my heart broke. I couldn’t believe she was lying to make this guy look good when I was the one who was actually there for her. Ever since she had thanked me for the food and sleeping pills, our relationship had improved. She no longer ignored and avoided my presence and conversation attempts. We had engaged in a few polite conversations and had even slipped back into old habits. One night, at dinner, Landon mentioned wanting to ally himself with the careers. To which Y/N and I instinctually shared a look of ridicule. I could feel my heart swell every time we interacted more like we used to. But an unreasonable amount of hurt rang in my chest as she essentially defended her dirtbag boyfriend.

I didn’t even bother to finish watching her interview, I just went straight upstairs to my room in the penthouse, bringing a bottle of vodka with me.

I don’t know how long I was laying there watching some stupid reality tv show when the door opened. In stepped Y/N in a sweater so long it looked like her legs were bare. Her face was cleaned of makeup, leaving a fresh look and I could see the exaggerated curls in her hair that remained from her updo. She just stood in the doorway, hugging herself, until I spoke. “Y/N,” I said a little too eagerly, having never expected to see her in my room again after I ended things. “Wh-what’s up?” I tried to ask casually.

She shrugged. “I’m here to drink,” was all she said.

Sitting further up, I held the bottle out to her, simultaneously gesturing to the bed to offer her a seat. She took both, perching herself at the foot of the bed, her legs crossed so she was looking at me. She took a deep swig from the bottle, cringing as she pulled it away. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression, she never got used to the taste and burn of alcohol. She noticed my expression and smiled slightly. “You know I hate the taste,” she explained, the slightest teasing tone in her voice.

“I remember,” I smiled fondly. “The only thing you liked was that flavored shit we got off that peacekeeper.”

She smiled, looking at the bottle in her hand. “Yeah, that was good. I got so drunk that night,” I got a genuine laugh out of that comment and it made my stomach do cartwheels.

“So what brings you here tonight?” I asked as she passed me the bottle.

“Well I’m being marched to my death tomorrow,” she laughed bitterly. Before I could try to console her she met my gaze. “How did you feel before you went in?”

I pondered for a second, trying to recall. “I was afraid,” I admitted. “I thought that there was no way in hell I’d survive but I wasn’t ready to die.” She hummed, nodding. I took another swig of vodka before passing it to her. “Why’d you lie about Rune during your interview?”

“You saw that?” sha asked. “I didn’t know you watched. The other mentors were there but you weren’t.” She noticed I wasn’t there? “I guess I just wanted them to think I had a reason to live,” she sighed. “I don’t really know what I was thinking but I figured bashing my-still-technically-boyfriend on national television wasn’t the best idea.”

“‘Still-technically-boyfriend?’” I questioned. “Y/N, he basically said that when, not if, when you were gone he’d be dating other girls. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We never officially said that we were broken up so it feels wrong to bash him.”

“Fuck him, fuck his feelings!” I insisted. She laughed a little at my exaggerated outburst.

“I guess I just feel like I still have an obligation to him. Like I can’t move on before we have the conversation and I may never get to have the conversation,” she mused ruefully.

I scooted closer to her, placing my fingers under her chin to make her look at me. A move from when we were together. “Hey, what do you mean obligation?” I found pain in her eyes as I asked.

She hesitated before answering me. But as she did she averted her gaze as if in shame. “You said you still love me?” she asked meekly.

My heart broke at her doubt. “Of course I do,” I promised, bringing her gaze back up again. “I never stopped. Yeah, I was angry and I took it out on you and I never should have. But I love you.” She hesitated with her next words and I took the chance to kiss her. She immediately melted into my lips much to my relief. I pulled her closer until she was practically perched in my lap, the bottle of liquor on the nightstand long forgotten.

The automatic alarm controlled by the Capitol went off at 6 am. As I shut the damn thing up I rolled back over, resuming my place cuddled up to Y/N. Both my arms were wrapped around her waist, my head cuddled into the crook of her neck. She groaned at having been woken up, probably a little hungover. “Morning,” I murmured into her bare shoulder. She just groaned again. This time I figured it was a groan of remembering what day it was. “C’mon,” I said, pushing myself up to rest on my hands, “you need to eat breakfast.”

She rolled over reluctantly, finally meeting my face. “Can’t even think about eating.”

“I know but you’ll thank yourself for eating later,” I advised, getting out of bed and throwing some clothes on. She followed suit, heading to the door. As I tried to follow, she stopped me.

“Wait, come out in a couple minutes.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me?” I asked only mildly genuinely.

“No,” she dismissed genuinely, placing a hand on my arm. “How’s it gonna look to Landon when I come out of your bedroom with you? With terrible bed head?” she added jokingly. I just hummed in agreement, gesturing for her to continue.

A few moments later I joined both Y/N and Landon before they were both ushered off.

The entire games I was a mess. I was ashamed to admit that I couldn’t remember most of it, too wracked with worry. I only ever sobered up enough to watch the rundowns of what had happened that day, listening for Y/N’s name when they listed the deceased.

I thanked whatever cruel deity was out there that Y/N survived another day. And when they told me she won, I wanted to break down crying in relief.

By the time I was able to see her, she was still very injured. She laid in the hospital bed, asleep, and it took everything in me not to shake her awake for reassurance that she was still in fact alive. But instead I settled for grasping her warm hand and listening to the rhythmic beep of her heart through the monitor. They kicked me out periodically to work on healing her and a day later, when they let me back in the room, her eyes were fluttering open.

“Y/N,” I uttered. My voice had an unexpectedly broken sob but if she noticed, she didn’t care. She sat up as best as she could as I enveloped her in a hug as tightly as possible without hurting her. “You’re alive.”

“I’m okay,” she assured me. I could feel her fingers in my hair, her other hand rested against my shoulder as she hugged me as close as possible. With as much strength as her weakened, malnourished frame would allow.

I finally pulled away, my hand cupping her face as I admired her face. She had scrapes on her face and a bruised jaw but it was otherwise unmarred. “I love you,” I whispered before pressing my lips to hers.

I stood behind Y/N as she stepped off the train, smiling down at her as the crowd cheered. She just stood there on the platform for a moment, seemingly in a daze. I couldn’t be more thrilled in this moment. Of course we were both shattered, both fragments of who we used to be before the games. But we were holding each other together nonetheless. I was just so grateful she made it. The picture-perfect happiness was shattered by a shout.

“Y/N!” Rune’s voice broke through the crowd. My mood immediately dropped. Ever since that night we spent together I had forgotten about the twerp.

Y/N seemed to hardly register his presence as he jumped up on the platform. He was immediately kissing her, dipping her into what would be a picture-perfect photo if it weren’t for what happened and the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable. When they broke away, he pulled her back up to her feet before pulling her in closely once again to pose for the camera. All the while, Y/N looked visibly uncomfortable from even just the rear.

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to rip the douchebag away from her and inform him that she didn’t love him. But for the sake of not creating an incredibly public, embarrassing scenario for her, I kept my fists at my sides and my mouth shut.

Y/N managed to pull away from him, disappearing into the crowd with peacekeeper escorts. Rune tried to follow after her but I stepped up to him quickly. “Hey, don’t count on this five second of fame,” I informed him in an admittedly snide tone.

He looked deeply unhappy to see me. “She’ll be my wife soon enough. She declared her love for me on national television. You didn’t do that for her,” he remarked smugly.

I glanced around, noticing most of the crowd and cameras were gone. “She never said that she loved you,” I corrected. “Besides, why’d she spend the night in my bed after that interview then?”

A dark look crossed over his face. “You didn’t. She would never.”

I admit that it’s juvenile but pride swelled in my chest as I watched him become increasingly indignant. “She did. She told me she only said that because she felt obliged to and then we slept together.”

Rage filled his features. “You’re lying, Abernathy. I know you are. What’s your game? Are you hoping that if you tell enough people you slept together she’ll just come back to you out of shame? That’s pathetic.”

I took a step closer to him, getting in his face. “You’re the one refusing to accept the truth. That makes you the pathetic one.”

Rune just looked at me with disgust. “Whatever, I guess we’ll both just have to get the truth from her tonight.”

I shrugged with a smirk. “I guess we will.”

I hardly even caught a glimpse of Y/N the entire day as she was too busy being pulled in every direction. Her mom was all to eager to welcome her back into her home while the district officials were trying to get them moved into their new home in Victor’s Village next to mine. Then, of course, there were the people she didn’t really know who were all too eager to suck up to the newest victor, hoping to gain a little bit of fame and wealth. And then finally, there was Rune who was practically stitching himself to her side. I was debating whether or not I should go to her and rescue her from the overwhelming-ness of being a victor and Rune’s attempts. But I decided against it, not wanting to add to her stress and because I feared that if that little bitch opened his mouth I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from punching him.

It wasn’t until the welcome back party a few of her friends threw for her that I got a chance to speak with her.

As I approached her in the crowded room, I held out a shot glass. “Grapefruit vodka?” She smiled, taking it from me.

“Where did you get this?”

“I requested a bottle before we left the Capitol,” I smiled down at her. “Congratulations, Y/N, seriously. I know the party and the drinks are a meager consolation but you deserve it,” I professed, bringing her into a hug.

She hugged me tightly in return. “Thank you, Haymitch. For everything.”

“Of course,” I returned, pulling away from the hug but still keeping her in my arms. I reached a hand up to her face. “I love you,” I professed, kissing her. Which she returned. Until she was literally ripped from my grasp. As I was wrenched back into reality I saw Rune holding Y/N by her arm.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he yelled at her.

“Hey, back off,” I told him, moving to get his grip off of her arm. But he just stumbled back, tugging her along with him.

“No, what the hell is going on?” he demanded, looking at Y/N. “I thought you hated him.”

She shook her head. “Maybe for a bit I did but you don’t get to act all incredulous, Rune. After I got reaped you said you wouldn’t date anyone else ‘for a while,’” she mocked his words. “You couldn’t even wait until I was dead. I know about Selene Ducote. While I was fucking fighting for my life you were more concerned about getting your dick wet than seeing if I’d survive. You were depending on my death.”

Rune stood there, still gripping her arm, flabbergasted. “Yeah well, you slept with Haymitch.”

“Yeah, I did” she freely admitted, “and now I don’t feel guilty about it.”

Rage filled Rune’s face as he clenched his jaw. His free hand moved to grip her jaw, “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna end things with him,” he nodded to me with disgust, “and we’re gonna get married because I know that you are in love with me.” He sent a final glare to me and I noticed his grip tightening. “Am I clear, you fucking slut?”

Now it was my turn to be filled with rage. Before I knew what was happening, I was throwing a punch at Rune’s face. He crumpled and would have brought Y/N down with him if it weren’t for the fact that I caught her around the waist. By now, the rest of the crowd had noticed us and were unsure of who’s side to take. Because while everyone had known Rune and Y/N were dating, they had also been aware of our relationship and took notice of the way she was huddled against my chest.

Rune got up, intending to punch me in return but Y/N pulled out of my arms, stepping up to him. “Enough, Rune,” she chastised him. “We’re over. We’ve been over. You’re making this so much more pathetic for yourself.” Seeing as the guest of honor had clearly made her allegiance known, the other attendees began booing him out. I only caught a glimpse of him walking out in shame because Y/N was stood in front of me again. She cupped my jaw, reaching up to kiss me.

Later that night we were both sat in her kitchen as she attempted to heal my hand that had admittedly been a little banged up when I punched Rune. We were both a little drunk so I was grateful her mom was back at her old house.

I hissed as she dabbed rubbing alcohol against my split knuckles. “If you take a swig maybe it won’t hurt so much,” she giggled.

I chuckled, admiring her blissful expression. “You can’t drink this type of alcohol sweetheart,” I explained gently. She pouted softly but didn’t say anything else as she focused on my hand.

When she deemed my hand disinfected enough, she pulled away. “I need something to wrap it with. Maybe there’s some cloth?” she suggested. She went to the cabinets, rummaging through them. Most of them were empty but a few had supplies that came with the house.

As she was looking, I quickly began to miss her touch so I got up. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, trapping her between my body and the counter. I pressed my face into her shoulder and the crook of her neck, pressing kisses into her skin. “I don’t need a bandage,” I slurred in assurance. “I won the 50th Hunger Games.”

“And I won the 51st,” she countered.

“I beat 47 others,” I argued playfully as she spun in my arms so she was facing me.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Shut up,” she laughed before kissing me.

Masterlist

#haymitch #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #thg #young!haymitch #young!haymitch x reader

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