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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 2 months

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A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.”

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?”

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker.

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod.

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod.

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.��

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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bellarkeselection · 4 months

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Cross My Heart Promise

Gif belongs to @miyagiverse

Request from Wattpad Treassuredavis33 reader has cancer and is in the hospital while Cole is her boyfriend she tells him to promise her something on her almost deathbed.

Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun @bbabycass

The Walter family had been forced to remain in the living room by Cole’s request when I collapsed on our date out tonight. I tried to lie and say it was nothing but now there was no way of keeping it a secret. He would know sooner rather than later I suppose now. Laying in the hospital bed I had an iv in my left arm. My hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail done by my boyfriend. “Y/n, I finally got the doctors to let me see you. What’s wrong?”

Cole came into the room dragging a chair right up to my bedside where I could see true concern in his green eyes. “Cole, I’m fine. I just…how much did the doctors tell you?”

“Nothing. They said that they will only talk with your parents or relatives. So what exactly is going on?” He asked me running his fingers through his hair.

Laying my head further back against the pillow I sighed tiredly. For our date we went riding out on horses like we did on our first date. He was riding in front of me while I felt myself getting dizzy and I fell off my horse. “I should have told you before now. I just didn’t know how you would react or if I could handle telling you what is going on because it scares me really bad…” I felt tears falling down my face getting emotional over this.

Unfortunately at the age that I am the doctor found out that the cancer that my mother had was passed down to me. My hair had started thinning meaning that it would start falling out soon. “Hey, hey, don’t cry on me. Just tell me what’s going on and I can try to fix it.” He reached forward, wiping away tears that had fallen.

“You can’t fix what is going to happen, Cole. So I decided that we should just end things now before we get too involved with each other.” I admit avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head confused. “Why would we end things? I know I’m not good at the whole boyfriend thing but I don’t want to break up with you.”

“Cole, we really can’t afford to be together anymore. I’m not good for you -“ He cut me off climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed and holding my face in his hands so I’d look him in the eye.

“That’s ridiculous Y/n. If anything I am not good for you. I normally do hookups and commit with girls. Until I met you…I want a real relationship with you.”

Blinking through my eyes I sniffed. “You’d want to be with someone who has cancer?”

“That’s what you weren’t wanting to tell me. Why did you think you couldn’t tell me about something? That’s a big deal to have cancer.” Cole declared in a baffled tone,

Shaking my head I felt more tears coming down. “Be for real, Cole. You don’t want to date someone who has cancer. You’re the popular guy at school and could have anyone else. I understand that so I’m ending this so you don’t have to deal with all the stress later down the road.”

“What makes you think that I’d want to break up with you over that? I don’t care about my reputation. It's ridiculous to me that people don’t consider I might be more than the guy who sleeps around.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I’d want to be with you no matter what Y/n L/n.”

Placing my head against his chest he wrapped his arms around my waist. We let silence fill the hospital room. He had his whole family in the room and they had all been concerned since I had a relationship with each of them. Cole kissed my forehead hearing me sniffing through some more tears.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was just afraid you’d walk away from me.” I mumbled into his brown jacket clutching my fingers on his forearms.

Cole slightly pulled away from me and I saw some tears coming down his face too. “I’d never leave you because of your illness. I freaking have feelings for you so bad that I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I want to make you happy and everything else. So you’d never be just a hook up to me.”

“I can’t believe you’re sticking around for me, Cole. I….I want a real relationship with you too.” I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug and he hugged me back blinking away more tears.

A few minutes later he felt me draw away from him where he tilted his head downward to my gaze. “What’s wrong, Y/n?”

“Now that we talked about my situation there’s something I want to ask of you.” I trailed off and he nodded letting me keep talking. “I need you to promise me something important. I need you to promise me that you’ll be nice to Jackie if things get worse for me.”

Cole shakes his head not wanting to think about the worst happening. “Things aren’t going to get bad for us. Not while we are together.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about that. I don’t either but it is possible. So promise me, promise me that you will be nicer to her. She doesn’t deserve someone being mean to her after the trauma she has to deal with….so as your girlfriend I’m asking that you promise me this.” Squeezing his shoulder blades in my nails he didn’t waste a second in kissing me slowly.

I leaned into the kiss lightly smiling and he broke it whispering under his breath. “We’re gonna get through this, Y/n. But I do promise to be better around her for you.”

“Thank you, Cole. I appreciate it…” I smiled feeling him climb in on the other side of the bed once I scooted over. Cole wrapped his arms around me and I cling onto his embrace before we just let silence fill the room. Not wanting to talk about the struggles of me having cancer just yet. So we remained just holding onto one another for comfort.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#cole walter #cole x reader #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #jackie howard #cancer #reader with cancer #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated #wattpad request #hospital #colewalteredit #horse ranch #promises

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negans-lucille-tblr · 2 months

Text

My Worthless Love || Part Four

Summary: At first, Dean can’t believe his luck that he gets to date a porn star, but soon the cracks start to show, and Dean gets to see a totally different side to the industry that bursts his bubble and leaves him torn.

Rating: 18+

Part Tags: angst, heart to heart, fluff, mentions of misogyny, mentions of sex, mentions of threesomes

Part WC: 2815

My Worthless Love Masterlist || Read this fic in full when you subscribe!

One Month Later

“Y’know, I’d look that depressed too if I was sticking it into a pornstar every night.”

Dean looks up into his office doorway to see Justin smirking over at him. He glares at the kid, wondering if he always has to be so crass, but Justin doesn’t break his smug grin.

“Get back to work before I dock your pay, asshole,” Dean grumbles, waiting until Justin has slipped away to look back at his brother. “Honestly, that kid is walking a thin fuckin’ line.”

“Hm,” Sam barely acknowledges, before a frown tugs at his brow. “He’s right though, you’ve been in a bad mood the whole time I’ve been here, what’s going on?”

Great, now Sam’s going to pry.

“Nothing, everything’s great,” Dean lies, grabbing his soda and taking a loud, obnoxious slurp, just to piss his brother off.

“Yeah, you’re just a ray of sunshine today,” Sam replies sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow, clearly knowing that Dean’s going to cave any second now.

“It’s not really something we should talk about,” Dean attempts to brush him off, grabbing another handful of fries.

“Since when has that stopped you before?” Sam scoffs. “So is it about Y/N?”

Dean huffs a breath, deciding maybe it would be good to get it off his chest, and if he’s going to talk to anyone about his problem, then Sam’s the one he trusts most.

“I think that our… private life is great, but I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t…” Dean struggles to find a way to explain himself, and Sam’s eyebrows only raise higher, a tiny smirk playing on his lips that fills Dean with instant regret.

“Get off?” Sam guesses.

“What? No… I’m just…” Dean heaves a breath. “I’m in the rare position of knowing what she’s like with other guys, and she says everything is great with us, but… it doesn’t sound like it… if you know what I’m saying.”

Dean keeps his eyes focused on the takeout diner food Sam had brought with him for their lunch meet up, and clears his throat, now only playing with his remaining pile of fries rather than eating them.

“I’m assuming when you say other guys you mean the actors for her job, right?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, obviously,” Dean grunts, feeling more and more embarrassed.

“Dean,” Sam scoffs, and Dean looks up, almost insulted by his brother’s amusement towards the entire thing. “You know that all that stuff is fake, right?”

“Doesn’t look it to me,” Dean grumbles, defeatedly.

“Jesus, I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation at this age. Dean, porn isn’t real. I bet you any kind of money that she’s faking it with them, and if she says she’s happy with you, then believe her.”

Dean ponders Sam’s advice for a moment, wondering if he could be right. “So you’re saying it’s all in my head?”

“Yep,” Sam nods, placing down his plastic salad bowl on the end of Dean’s desk before dusting his hands into his slacks. “I get it, dude. With her job, you’re bound to feel insecure sometimes, but that’s all it is for her… work. You’re the person she’s chosen to spend her personal life with. You’re the one that matters. And if it really bothers you and you can’t handle it, then you need to break things off with her now, before it gets even more serious.”

“I can handle it,” Dean insists, convincing himself too. “I’m not jealous,” he adds. “I guess I just always told myself she loved her job because it was easier to think of it that way than to think of her doing something that isn’t making her happy,” he admits, pursing his lips slightly. “Especially something like that.”

“All you can do is be there for her, dude. It’s her life, she’s gotta do what she wants with it.”

Dean sighs, but he knows his little brother is right, and he’s at least grateful he brought this up to Sam, and not the idiot out in his workshop right now that would probably just tell him to try harder, or make some crass comment about how he could do it better if Dean needed help. Dean offers his brother an appreciative smile and then thinks on his advice some more, wondering if he really is cut out for all this, afterall.

Dean’s still fussing with the table setting when he hears the latch on Y/N’s apartment door disengage, and so he clears his throat and straightens up, turning to greet her as she enters.

Instantly, her expression goes from exhausted to surprised, as she slowly closes the door behind her and smiles slightly.

“Hey, you, I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” she tells him, dumping her purse and coat on the armchair in front of her. “What’s all this?”

“Well, I figured you’ve had a long day at work, the least I could do is sort out dinner so you don’t have to do anything,” Dean tells her with a warm smile.

“You didn’t have to do this, Dean,” she insists, but the smile on her face tells him he didn’t make a mistake. Her eyes cast over the table where Dean laid out some candles and flowers and a bottle of wine with two glasses. “I was just going to get take out and crash,” she admits.

“You didn’t think I cooked, did you?” he smirks slightly. “I don’t trust myself to not kill you, so food is on its way.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “Well this is very romantic and elaborate for take out,” she notes, gesturing back to the table.

“I took inspiration from all those chick flicks you force me to watch,” he explains.

“You mean all those chick flicks you secretly love?” she teases, a knowing smirk on her face. Dean glares at her playfully, making her laugh some more. “Have I got time to shower?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.

“Sure,” Dean agrees with a nod.

“Great, as soon as I’m clean you’re gonna know how much I appreciate this,” she insists, already heading towards her bedroom.

Dean doesn’t have to wait long for Y/N to return, her hair still damp from her shower, and she’s dressed herself in a simple dress that looks great on her, even though she insists she looks like shit as she comes out of her room. Instantly, she approaches him and wraps her arms around his neck, reaching up to kiss him lovingly.

“Thank you for doing this,” she tells him sincerely, “you won’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean implores, reaching for the wine to pour them each a glass. She takes hers from him and swirls the liquid around inside, sighing heavily.

“You don’t wanna hear about work,” she argues, timidly.

“Sure I do, it’s part of your life, you can talk to me about anything, Y/N,” he insists, making moves to sit at the dining table as they continue to wait for their food to arrive. Y/N follows suit and sits down, taking a large mouthful of wine and swallowing it in one.

“Fine,” she relents. “Today, I did a scene with two guys, and during a break, one of them approached me, and he wanted to know if we could hook up outside of work sometime,” she begins to explain. “I said no, of course,” she rushes to add. “Anyway, that annoyed him, and I guess he was pissed enough to take it out on me for the rest of the shoot.”

“What?” Dean chokes out, horrified by the very idea. “Who?” His grip on his wine glass tightens, but Y/N just laughs sadly.

“Dean, it’s fine, it wasn’t anything I’ve not dealt with before,” she tries to reassure him, though he feels anything but reassured by that fact. “It wasn’t anything really bad, he was just a bit more rough is all,” she shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “Nothing a couple Tylenol and a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Dean’s still speechless for a moment, wondering how she can just brush something like this off. “But, it does mean this wonderful effort probably won’t end the way you want it to, I’m sorry,” she adds, almost like she’s afraid she’s let him down.

“What? Don’t even think about that, sweetheart,” Dean insists, at least knowing his feelings on that, even if he is still trying to get his head around the rest of it. “Is there someone you can complain to about this? The director or your agent?”

Y/N laughs at his suggestion and shakes her head. “Dean, honestly, it’s nothing, I’ve dealt with worse, every girl in the industry has, it’s fine,” she once more insists. “Let’s just forget about it and enjoy this meal, yeah?”

Dean doesn’t want to forget about it, though, and he purses his lips, wondering how he can argue with her on this without crossing any lines. But before he can think of anything, there’s a knock on her door, and Y/N gets up to answer it before he can register what’s happening. He hears her open the door and politely greet the delivery guy, and turns his head to watch the exchange.

“Holy shit, you’re–” The guy cuts himself off and swallows hard, and Y/N giggles slightly. “Shit, sorry… I–” he flusters.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” she replies easily, in a voice that isn’t quite hers. “How much do I owe you?”

“Urm… it was, urm… paid for already,” he finally splutters out.

“Perfect,” she giggles sweetly. “Well, have a good night!”

“Ye-yeah, you too,” he rushes out as she begins to close the door.

The fake smile that had been plastered on her face drops as soon as she’s closed the door and she heads back over to the table with the food in hand, placing it between them.

“Do you mind being recognised?” Dean asks, finding the entire exchange weird himself, and he wasn’t even involved.

Hearing men getting all starstruck and flustered over his girlfriend and knowing why is something Dean’s not figured out how he feels about yet. If a guy recognises Y/N it can only mean that he’s watched enough of her videos to know exactly who she is and what she does. And that means he’s seen her in a way that – traditionally – Dean should only be seeing her now.

He pushes the evolving thought out of his head, because he doesn’t want to ruin the night, and the last thing either of them need is Dean developing some kind of jealousy. When they first started dating, he thought her work was kind of cool, and he thought about if that meant she’d be more adventurous than the other girls he’s been with, and more confident and up for it more often. But he quickly learned that definitely wasn’t the case. If anything, most nights she would be tired and not in the mood, or saving her energy for her work. But that does mean that when they do find time to be intimate, it has always been something to appreciate more than he might’ve done before.

“Preferably not in my own apartment,” Y/N answers, snapping Dean out of his thoughts. “But I can’t complain, it’s part of the job,” she shrugs, dishing herself out some food onto her plate. “Does it bother you?” she asks next, looking up at him.

“It’s just new to me, that’s all,” he concludes, shrugging too.

A brief smile flashes over Y/N’s lips, but Dean knows her well enough now to know it’s fake, before she starts eating, focusing more on her food than him.

“So how was your day?” she finally asks, clearly trying to change the subject. Dean doesn’t mind though, and as he serves himself his own food, he clears his throat.

“Same old boring shit,” he shrugs, “Sammy came to the workshop for lunch.”

“Yeah? That sounds nice,” Y/N smiles.

“Yeah. I think I needed it, actually, he talked some sense into me,” Dean admits, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“About what?” Y/N pries, grabbing her glass of wine.

“Don’t laugh,” he almost begs. “I urm… I’ve been feeling a little self conscious recently because I was afraid that you weren’t… as into it as you are in your movies,” he explains, his cheeks only getting hotter. “But after what you’ve just told me, I think Sam’s right,” he concludes.

“What did Sam say?” she probes.

“That it’s all fake for the camera,” Dean explains, still feeling a little embarrassed that the thought hadn’t occurred to him without the need for someone else to tell him.

“Are you serious?” Y/N asks, slight amusement in her tone. “You were honestly worried about our sex life because of how I act in my movies?”

“Alright, I know I’m an idiot,” Dean grumbles, now utterly humiliated.

“An adorable idiot,” Y/N smirks fondly. “Dean… your brother’s right, it’s all fake. Hell, I could sit here right now and prove it,” she laughs. “It’s real with you, and that’s what makes it so good, I promise.”

Dean’s secretly far more pleased than he’ll let show on his face as he tucks into his food, thinking about Y/N’s words. He’s glad that he brought it up, as humiliating as it was, because having her confirmation has really put his mind at total ease now. At least, it has about that, but then his mind wanders back to what Y/N had said earlier on about the guy being an asshole, and he just wishes he could be there to protect her. Maybe if he was on set with her, men would think twice about disrespecting her. Dean certainly has no issues with throwing a punch or two around if he needs to.

Y/N laughs, like she can hear his thoughts and is amused by the idea, so he looks up at her and frowns.

“What?”

“I just still can’t believe that you’re in your thirties and your brother has only just popped your little porn bubble and let you in on the secret that it’s all fake.” Dean rolls his eyes at her teasing, shaking his head, but apparently she’s not finished. “Y’know, even some of the scenes are fake, right? Like, the guy’s not even inside me.”

This is new information to Dean, and apparently that fact shows up on his face, because she only laughs some more.

“In my defense, sweetheart,” he begins, clearing his throat, trying to regain at least a little dignity. “I’ve never seen behind the scenes of one of those things.”

With his own words, Dean gets an idea. That’s how he could play this to get onto that set. If he tells her he wants to be there to protect her, she’ll probably brush him off and tell him she’s fine, that she can handle it, but if he tells her he wants to see exactly what it’s like behind the scenes, destroy his ‘porn bubble’ once and for all, maybe she’ll be more inclined.

“Listen, I’ve never asked this because I wanna respect your boundaries, and I know you’ve been insecure about it in the past. But I think we’re close enough now that hopefully you trust me.”

“You want to come to the set?” she guesses. Dean doesn’t reply for a second trying to judge how she feels about that. She takes a deep breath and grabs her wine, taking a sip before licking her lips. “You don’t need to see me like that, Dean,” she refuses, shaking her head.

“Like what?” Dean pries. “Baby, I’ve already seen the filtered version of it all, surely that’s worse?”

“They filter it for a reason,” she counters. But Dean doesn’t reply, because that’s the real reason he wants to be there in the first place, and if he holds his ground, maybe she’ll give in. “Promise me you won’t judge me, Dean, that it won’t change things between us?” she pleads.

“If I wanted to judge you for any of this, sweetheart, I’d have done it the second I saw that first movie,” he argues softly. “I want to see all sides of you, and I want to support you, and this is part of you, so let me be there for you.”

“Fine,” Y/N relents, sighing heavily. “I have a shoot on Saturday, you can come to that,” she agrees. “But you need to stay out of everyone’s way.”

“I will,” Dean nods in agreement, smiling slightly, happy to be getting his way.

“And don’t embarrass me,” she adds with a playful glare, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“C’mon now, sweetheart,” he scoffs, “when would I ever embarrass you?”

Please let me know what you think of this fic! Feedback is the fuel to writers' fires! My anon is on if you'd prefer to leave feedback anonymously!

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#my worthless love #dean x reader #mini series #dean winchester #smut #angst #fluff #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #negans-lucille-tblr

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unfinishedjulyrain · 4 months

Note

"I'm glad you like the gifts, but, the most important one is this one." Jaehwan smiled and took both of Adelaide's hands in his, looking at her with a fond expression. "I'm well aware that most people typically wait a bit longer with things like this, but one, I'm not like most people and two, time doesn't matter to me because to me it feels like I have known you my whole life. Like I have been loving you my whole life, because I cannot describe with words alone all the love that I have for you and it continues to grow every single day that I am blessed to have you in my life and by my side." He paused for a moment, if only to be able to press a kiss to the back of her hands. "You have shown me and continue to show me every day what it's like to be cared for, to be loved. Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it a meaning. Because of you, I know the meaning of true love and I never ever want to be in a world where you are not by my side. I would much rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone. You are my best friend, my girlfriend, my comfort, my home and the love of my life. I want to have you by my side and be by your side for ever and always. And while you will always remain my best friend, my comfort, my home and the love of my life, there's something else, besides those things, that I would love to be able to call you." Taking out the small velvet box from his pocket, he got down on one knee and looked up at her while opening the box to reveal the ring. "Adelaide, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Marry me?"

was I prepared for this? maybe. is my heart over it? never.・❥・@lunaxriax

Adelaide had always felt comfortable around him, even in moments that could be considered stressful. She knew that this was the person she loved and if meant to be, they would work things out. Fortunately, such occasions came up quite rarely but her resolve remained the same. Only Jaehwan had her heart. So to hear the young man speak to her so gently while his hands carried hers as if they were made of glass, the warm words filled with nothing but love and care, this all seemed to be enough to have her teary eyed. Adelaide had told him several times about the reason why she sometimes cried during happy moments and right now surely counted as one of those. Still, Ade made sure she smiled, teeth showing and revealing a joyful expression. When his speech came to an end however, the female was met by a proposal, longed for yet still so sudden that she gasped - one second, two seconds - and soon enough, Adelaide found herself embracing him, head nodding as sounds of agreement left her closed lips in mumbles. She had no idea why she was not breaking out in tears right now, perhaps the joy overran her as all she could do was beam at Jaehwan and hold on to him tightly, trying her best not to tip them both over. And her answer was this: "Yes I do. I want to be with you, always."

#lunaxriax #( * ic; letters answered )#jaehwan & adelaide #it's like i am watching my favorite anime #where the couple finally gets together #but this is already one step further ahh

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countrymusiclover · 1 year

Text

35 - Past Comes Calling

Part 36

His Golden Princess

@lostweasleychild @fanficismydrug @misskitty1912-blog @drakoneve

Do you want me to start including more flashbacks of Emma and Astrid??? Let me know down below.

Shutting one of the books from the clock tower library I huffed resting my arms on top of it eyeing my husband. “I don’t understand why we can’t just melt the whole ice wall now. I mean my sister is safe and the person who literally created the wall is now staying in my parents apartment.”

The woman in the blue dress named Elsa was concerned with finding out what happened to her sister Anna. She desperately wanted her back safely where I could understand that. But I didn’t understand why her ice wall was still a problem. “Yes we can obviously melt it, lass. But we have no idea what that girl spelled it with. She could curse the entire town if we provoke her spell.”

“Am I hearing that right? The man that is literally named the Dark One is concerned with a spell. I thought you didn’t let anyone or anything stand in your way.” I teased him by flipping my hair out of my eyes, sending him a slight glare.

Rumple moved around the glass counter gently snapping me by my wrist quickly tugging me into his chest. “I am…” He said in a low growl making me hitch a breath in my throat blushing a little at finding it rather intriguing. His eyes held sternly for a moment before he spoke his next words softly. “Except now I have you and this little one of ours on the way. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“If you say so. Now I am going to get some ice cream. Do you want to join me?” I asked breaking away from him.

He shakes his head no, gesturing towards another pile of books sitting near us that we needed to go through. “I’ll let you take a break on your own. If you want, bring me back a cone.” Heading through the shop door the bell rang with me walking a few blocks finding the shop. Henry had gotten me turned onto this shop before Pan’s curse and now I love it.

“Hey, are you open yet? Holy crap it’s you.” I paused in my steps seeing a familiar blonde woman that used to mean everything to me and my sister when we were kids.

The woman who I remembered was named Ingrid. "Astrid. Oh my gosh it's been so long. Look at you, you're all grown up. Is your sister here?"

"That's none of your business. I'll just take two chocolate cones and then I'm leaving." I responded back in annoyance. This woman is the reason Emma and I didn't talk for a few years before she ended up in jail pregnant.

She slowly handed me two cones watching me leave. "Come back soon."

Making my way back into Rumple's shop I slammed the door behind me scoffing under my breath. He comes out from being in the backroom seeing my current state. "What happened, lass?” He takes his ice cone and mine from my hands.

“Someone from my past is here…here in Storybrooke.” I muttered pressing my back against the red wooden door feeling my heart quickening inside my chest.

“Emma. Em wait!” I called chasing my sister down the street. We had been spending the day at the fair with Ingrid and she told us that she was thinking of adopting us.

She halted in her tracks spinning around on her feet with some tears in her eyes. “That woman is insane…she nearly got us kicked Ast. I can’t believe the first person who would actually want to adopt us both turns out to be nuts!”

“Maybe she is right. That we are special and I don’t mean normal special. We could be something more than we even realize…like uh…like we have magic or something.” I stumbled on my word’s trying to remain hopeful that we would find a home like someone would in a kids story book.

My sister put her hand over, sighing heavily. “Astrid just stop. That woman is insane and I can’t believe you think that she is onto something.”

“Well it’s better to believe in something crazy that might give you hope then to just get your heart broken over and over!” I raised my voice feeling some tears falling down my face. “Maybe we have to change what we are doing…and go our separate ways.”

“You mean get adopted by different families…Astrid we probably won’t ever see each other ever again.” My sister’s voice cracked at my suggestion but it would come to pay off later in a few years until she met a girl named Lily.

Shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket I turned on my heels and walked away from her not talking to her until we got back to the house. “Maybe having magic like Harry Potter wouldn’t be so bad.”

Sliding down onto the floor I gripped my blonde hair in my hands finally meeting the deep gaze of my husband. He stands in front of me since he couldn’t bend down very well with the limo even though he had magic. “Rumple I…I need something to take my mind off it. I buried my feelings on that momester kf a woman years ago.”

He throws away the melting ice cream and offers me his freehand pulling me up to stand where I fling my arms around his neck sniffing into his shoulder. “Sssh lass. What do you want me to do. Give me her name and I’ll handle it.”

“No…no nothing like that. Let’s just talk about magic…um you’re dagger. Tell me about your dagger.” I begged him wiping away tears with my sleeve letting him lead me into the back room where I sat down on the cot bed waiting until he re-entered carrying the knife in his hands since he had put it back inside the safe behind the painting.

Moving over I made space for him to sit watching him spin the blade in between his hands not looking me in the eye for a few moments. “Astrid there isn’t much about this and the powers that come with it that you don’t already know.”

“Immortality. You can be controlled with it and it can kill you. Whoever kills you becomes the new Dark One. But there has to be more, there’s always more with any magic.” I responded by intertwining my hands together in my lap feeling my blood boiling. I really wanted to throw a fireball at Ingrid because she made me and my sister have our very first heated fight. It took almost five years before we reunited and had moved past it.

He nods, holding the blade out where I slowly take it into my hands. Rumple closely watches me hold the blade. He knew for certain that you would never use it to control him by any means necessary. “Indeed it can do those things, lass. But I can also hear the voices of the past Dark ones. It is a tricky thing to handle.”

“I assume they wouldn’t be happy to see what I do to you, make you good.” I pointed out feeling him tuck some hair behind my ear, making me look into his brown eyes.

He sent me a weak smile squeezing my hand before I handed him the dagger back grabbing the keys to the shop door. Rumple pushed the painting back, messing with the safe lock sitting the dagger back inside. “Astrid….Astrid..” Blinking my eyes a couple times I could have sworn that I heard an eary voice call my name with a little giggle at the end.

“Astrid. Sweetheart you alright?” Rumple’s tone drew me from my trance so I closed the door following him outside.

“Oh uh yeah. I thought I heard something but it was nothing I guess.” Sneaking one last look through the window at the painting I got a bad feeling at the thought that it really was a voice I heard. Like it was some kind of magic.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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julietandcinderella-if · 2 years

Note

Adam x Eris drabble at the start of their relationship (pre-marriage) ❛ the way your hand fits in mine, i won’t second guess it’s a sign. ❜

First date anxiety noises

~•~•~

I never dreamed that you

Would feel the way I do

I thought that I would know just what say

But suddenly my voice is feeling very weak

If only my heart could speak

- If Only My Heart Could Speak, Cody Fry

This delicate dance of awkwardness with hearts pounding underneath their ribcage.

Shoulders brushing.

Gazes averting.

Cheeks burning.

Shy smiles and sheepish laughs.

Under the night sky, love is slowly sprouting.

Oh how tense it all is.

Eris stays quiet, gaze cast down to the stone path under her, her shawl now loosely hanging from her elbows. Her hands are neatly placed infront of her abdomen, thumb brushing the back of her other hand nervously. Gods, what do you do in a situation like this? She's been told to act natural, an advice her cousins have given her, this is her first actual relationship, after all. How is she supposed to act natural when her boyfriend is literally the Commander of the royal army, heir to the royal throne, and a prince of the leading clan.

She sometimes forget how much luck has been in her favor to have the eldest prince lay his eyes on her. Eris can't help but question but why. Why her? Why a girl from one of the lowest ranking clans in the whole country?

Eris glances at Adam, who's walking stiffly beside her like a soldier, arms behind his back with one thumb nervously rubbing the other. His gaze remains forward, throat bobbing every now and then.

He's nervous too.

She couldn't hide the sudden snicker that leaves her throat.

The Commander looks at her, brows raising in surprise at the suddenness.

"What's so funny?" He asks, his voice in a low tenor.

"It's not everyday you see the serious Commander get so nervous," Eris replies, voice velvety and sweet, flashing a teasing smile at him, "I'm starting to wonder if you're like this with all the women you've dated."

Adam quickly averts his gaze, a blush creeping up his neck under the collar of his button up and coat. "You're the first woman, actually."

The smile on Eris' face immediately drops, as her eyes dart away. Cheeks heating up. Is it surprise at the confession? Embarassment for assuming? Fluster for being his first? Gods she doesn't know, and she's praying that Adam doesn't hear how loud her beating heart has become.

"Oh." Was all the young matriarch could say.

"Oh indeed." Adam agrees with a soft chuckle.

The night continues on as silent awkwardness comes again between the young lovers.

It's only broken when Adam cleared his throat, rather a bit too loudly for his liking.

Eris returns her gaze back at him, a bit bemused to see his hand raised up towards her.

"Is it alright if we hold hands…?" He asks, voice now timid, red dusting his cheeks loudly. His green eyes would quickly glance at Eris then away, cheeks getting redder.

How cute.

Smiling, Eris takes his hand in hers. "We may."

It's… comforting. Perfect, even. The way his rough, calloused hand holds her dainty and soft ones so gingerly, fearing it would break if he were to hold it the wrong way. The way his thumb brushes over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

It feels right to have her hand in his.

"I like this," Eris says, voice low into a delicate whisper between them, "the way your hand fits in mine." She chuckles. "I won't second guess it's a sign."

"Fate might as well declare us a perfect match." Adam smiles. "I think I prefer it we be that way." His eyes land on hers, a glint of love, awe, and admiration in them as his gentle lips landing on her knuckles. This man is a hypocracy, looking so dangerous, yet acting so sweet and gentle.

And he will be the end of her for being this way.

#prompt #Adam #Eris

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servin-up-surveys · 1 year

Text

survey #130

Is there a person you talk to everyday? Mom and Girt without fail. I'd say most days some messages go between me, Mazzy, and Tez.

Does one of your parents ever complain to you about the other parent? My mother will take any opportunity to talk shit about my dad, yes, meanwhile Dad NEVER has while I've been with him. As a matter of fact, all my dad ever has to say about her around us kids is that she did a damn good job raising us/is a wonderful mother. I honestly would not be surprised if Mom, meanwhile, would prefer him dead with how she handles the topic of him. I know I don't know everything about why they split, but how she is about Dad nearly a whole decade after they split is kinda ridiculous. It's uncomfortable showing in any way that we care about him in her presence because she VERY obviously hates it.

If you have a webcam, do you take more pictures or make more videos with it? I've never used this webcam and historically have also avoided using them at all costs. I only ever really have for virtual appointments.

Who was the last person you wished a “Happy Birthday” to? Actually Kelsee today; she's the daughter of my favorite teacher. Basically an impossibly sweet human being.

Last person you kissed, are they into any type of sports? Which ones? No.

Does your best friend have a job? Yeah, he's worked at the same place for very nearly a decade.

Do you ever visit people at work? Thus far I've brought lunch to Girt at work once, and I plan to keep doing that occasionally forever. I just don't do it a lot now because his work is rather far and Mom has a super shitty car that doesn't need to drive that far, but also I don't have my own income and am not having Mom pay for it. The one time I did do it was with gifted money.

When you move out your house (or if you already have moved out) do you plan on still visiting your parents' house? I fully intend to invite Mom over for dinner like once a week, and I'd absolutely come back here if she wanted me to for something. It breaks my mom's fucking heart how Ashley and Nicole are, generally acting like she's no longer important, and I'll fucking die before I let her feel like I've left her behind, too. I'd still visit Dad too, probably occasionally invite him over. It's a hard situation to imagine just because I already very rarely see him.

What is one thing you hope never changes about you? How much I care about people.

Who was the last person you were mad at? Me.

Why did you break your last promise? Honestly, I feel like the only real promise I HAVE broken (that I remember, I'm sure it's happened more than just once, realistically) is the one I made with Sara, to keep her straight-up diabolical political stance a secret. I broke it because I don't protect the feelings of Nazis/very literal Hitler fangirls. I never should have kept it secret in the first place.

Has anyone ever told you that you were really pretty? Yeah, somehow.

Do you listen to a wide variety of music? Not really, but I've been more open to pop music in recent times... granted, they're primarily songs I grew up with lmao, but still.

What holiday are you looking forward to next? So I'm not very big on the 4th of July just because I'm not this country's biggest fan, but it's more appealing knowing I'll probably spend it with Girt's family, like last year.

Did you ever go through a phase when you didn’t want to take medicine? My problems have always been just being upset over how many medications I've been prescribed during certain periods. There have been many occasions in the past where I've gotten verbally pissed off and even cried over just how many medications I was waking up to and having to take before bed. 100% convinced my memory and focus problems hold DEEP roots in just being so grossly overmedicated by the time I was just a young teenager, and it remained that way for a very, very long time. Thankfully, I'm more at peace with the number I take now; I'm not happy about it, but it's absolutely nothing like it used to be.

Do you love popsicles? They're fine.

Do you like your smile? No, entirely convinced I look high as shit and I know I have a lazy eye when I do smile.

Was the last book you read good? Yup, it was. Jesus, I need to start reading more again... I've been on the same book for SO fucking long.

Does sunlight make you feel happier? Yes, it absolutely does. This was something I learned around the time I started recovering from the breakup and my worst level of depression: I used to be the person who kept the shades closed, lights off always, and just live in the dark. Then I started keeping my shades open and just in general stay in decently-lit rooms, and it made a pretty profound impact on my happiness, eventually. It's why I'm not even big on rainy days anymore; they used to be my favorite, but nowadays I will absolutely feel a difference if it's gloomy outside.

What helps you fall asleep? Fucking nothing. I finally almost cried last night over just how atrocious my ability to fall asleep has been lately; I'm regularly not falling asleep until early morning hours. I just lay in bed for hours on end tossing and turning and being completely fucking miserable. Thankfully I'm starting a new medication tonight that is meant to help me fall asleep... I just hope it works, because historically, meds meant to assist in good sleep have had zero effect on me. I'm one of those people that isn't even knocked out by Benadryl, and you always hear about how that'll knock you flat on your ass.

Do you have stomach problems? Yes.

Do you enjoy editing photos? Yeah, that's basically mandatory to be a notably successful photographer lol, as much as many people don't like to admit.

What was the last photo filter you used? I think it was this one called "Honey" that's on my phone for a picture I took of Girt's sister's dog Onyx.

Do you live a simple life? I'm sure it looks like it on the very surface to people who don't know me well whatsoever, but you realize pretty fucking quickly it's astronomically far from "simple."

What was the last song you listened to on repeat? "Rein raus" by Rammstein.

What are three of your favorite toppings for a pizza? Pepperoni, sausage, and jalapeno are all good.

What are three of your favorite ingredients for a salad? Besides the lettuce, I'm assuming? Cucumbers, bacon bits, and uh... that's it lmao I am MEGA basic with salad. WELL I will say I do absolutely love the jalapenos that are in Olive Garden's salads, like that's my favorite part of the whole thing haha, but idk if I'd enjoy them in every salad.

Do you express yourself better out loud or in writing? Oh there is ZERO competition here, my ability to express myself in writing is indisputably WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better than my capability to do so verbally. I can barely make a normal sentence when speaking.

Do you sing in the shower? No.

What are three random things you are good at? Writing, taking pictures I'd hope, and understanding animal body language, generally.

What is one thing you’ve been waiting patiently for for quite some time? Finding a job, I guess. Though I've been less patient about it lately. I've been doing daily (and I do mean daily) checks online for around three months now for various job titles I feel I could realistically do, and I'm just not getting lucky at all.

What are three of the most painful things you have ever stepped on? Uh idk, honestly.

If you could choose three US states to visit, which three states would you pick? Alaska, Arizona, and one of the states Yellowstone is part of; I'd have to research more about each state.

What color is your camera case (if you have one)? It's black.

What are three things you like that start with the same letter as your middle name? MEERKATS (are you even remotely surprised), music, and mountains.

Which do you use more: Facebook or Instagram? Facebook.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? Today actually; I did hydrotherapy today at PT because there were no land slots for this week when we were scheduling. Well, I guess I didn't really swim because I couldn't get my tattoo wet (it's a saltwater pool), like both my feet never completely left the bottom, but still.

Who or what do you worship? Nothing; I'm not even really a "hail thyself" person just because I think it puts too much divine worth on just us insignificant humans. We're nothing special in the grand scheme of the universe and I think that mentality feeds the ego too much.

Do you know a Ted? Yeah, that's the name of one of my childhood friend's dad.

Have you ever swam in one of the Great Lakes? No.

What is one thing you wish were more easily accessible? ADEQUATE FUCKING HEALTHCARE.

Have you ever chopped something with an axe? No.

What is one mistake you’ve made that you hope to never repeat? Hand my entire identity and worth over to another person.

What was the last thing that kept you awake? My brain doesn't know how to shut the fuck up whenever I try to sleep; that's the primary problem, and it's been that way since I was a literal child. My brain is just always, ALWAYS going, even when I try to tell myself to just concentrate on sleeping. Then there's also the fact my tattoo is starting to scab, and just because of the location, I can really feel the scabbing pull when I roll around in bed, and that obviously hurts.

If you have pets, do they sleep in your bedroom at night? Roman generally does, and sometimes Cookie decides to sleep in my bed instead of Mom's. Venus' terrarium is also in my bedroom.

Can you sleep with background noise or does it keep you up? Only if it's something on the quieter side and monotonous, like a fan. I definitely struggle with like, a TV being on.

Who was the last person to cook you a meal? What did they make? Mom made popcorn shrimp and white rice tonight.

Who was the last person you cooked a meal for? What did you make? I made eggs once when Sara was here.

Who is your female celeb crush? (If applicable) Y'ALL I fucking hate wrestling and find the acting cringy as shit, including whom's I'm about to mention (I know because my niece and nephew like watching????), but Rhea Ripley could RUIN ME and I would thank her

Who is your male celeb crush? (If applicable) I don't think I'll ever be able to explain my level of attraction towards Richard Kruspe even though he could literally be my dad h e l p

Do you have a favorite Marvel character? Probably Deadpool.

Favorite DC character? Harley Quinn.

Who has been your favorite actor to play Batman (live-action)? No opinion, I haven't even seen them all.

Who has been your favorite live-action Joker? Heath Ledger was MADE for the role imo, even if it did cause him a lot of harm. I probably also just have a bias because Heath Ledger's Joker was Jason's favorite thing on the face of the planet.

Has a horror film ever actually scared you? Which one(s)? [TW: RAPE MENTION] There's only been one that has, and that's only because it fed off my pregnancy phobia: The Rite. Doubt it's spoiler material with just being a big part of the plot and it's an old movie now, but a woman is raped by either a demon or just straight-up the devil and it's EXTREMELY fucking gross, like I could not handle it. I still wouldn't watch it to this day, I'm pretty sure I didn't even finish watching it when Nicole had it on. Like obviously I don't believe in supernatural impregnation but I still couldn't handle it.

What was the last horror movie you saw? Well Girt and I startedThe Black Phone but didn't finish it, I've told this story enough.

What was the first horror movie you remember seeing? What did you think of it? Hmmmm... it might have been the OG Paranormal Activity movie. At least, that's the first I remember. I liked it; I tend to like "paranormal evidence" horror films, the ones that seem like they actually happened and can't be explained. I find those much easier to put yourself into/imagine them happening to you.

Name a few historical figures you find interesting. Why? I don't care enough about history for this lmao.

What is your favorite historical film and why? The Boy in the Striped Pajamas because it tears my fucking heart ENTIRELY open every time I see it. I'm crying without fail.

Do you usually enjoy historical films? Not usually, or at least they're not the sort of movies that I seek out.

Name a sequel film (any franchise) you like better than the first film. Why is that? Shrek 2 lmao, the first movie is absolutely legendary and I love it but the second is just more fun to me.

Which do you find most interesting: Greek, Roman, or Norse mythology? Why? Greek. I think it's just because that's what I know most about, though. I will say what I know of Norse is awesome too; it has total potential to be my favorite if I actually knew more about it. All I do know comes from the two most recent God of War games, and while I'm quite sure it is a rather accurate representation of key roles and events, I'm definitely not sure.

Which tale from whichever mythology you listed above do you find most interesting? ... You're making me realize I actually don't remember a lot of Greek mythos lmao, it's been too long since I was in mythology class. With Norse though, I think Jörmungandr as well as Sköll and Hati's lore are very cool.

Do you collect anything? What was the last item you added to that collection? Meerkat stuff is my primary collection; I think the last thing I got relating to meerkats was a shirt. I also collect Silent Hill merch, but I can't recall what the last thing I added on was.

What is your favorite vampire movie? I don't really have one.

Your favorite fictional couple? This is BASICALLY impossible, but I thiiiink I can pick one: Woo Young-Woo and Lee Jung-Ho from Extraordinary Attorney Woo, like that is just a STRAIGHT-UP wholesome, genuine relationship that warms my fucking heart to mush.

Do you have a favorite historical couple? Nope. Again, just don't know enough about history or care enough to dig into their personal lives, especially.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

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blackthunder137 · 2 years

Text

Longing ( D.m x reader)

Pairing- Draco x Fem! Reader

Summary- Love doesn’t work out for everyone. Some feel special while others feel pain.

House- Slytherin

Warning- Angst. Pure angst; mentions of death

Prompts- “It hurts…”- “what”- “Loving someone who doesn’t love you”

A/n- This is written for Rue’s 2k event. Thank you for allowing me to write this! So, this is my 2nd fic. This fic takes place somewhere around the 7th year. But the timelines just don’t make sense. I hope y’all like it and thank you for all the love I received on my first fic. And yes, I was listening to very heart-breaking songs while writing this. Love y’all.

Draco's Masterlist

It’s funny, isn’t it? Love can be horrifyingly beautiful or it can be painfully truthful. And there you were standing looking at them, heartbroken. How could he be so foolish to not see you? Was it your fault? Or were you always meant to be alone? But you had to admit, they looked perfect- the best.

You watched them every single day. Hugging, kissing, and laughing at jokes. By now you were used to this.

A Few months earlier-

You were walking down the Grand staircase when cold hands wrapped around your waist, and you were caught off-guard, startled by the sudden touch, you turned your head around to see Draco already looking at you and smirking. You huff and remove his hands off your waist and “What the hell- I was going to punch you in the face!” you said while hitting his arm. He chuckled and said, “I love seeing you all scared and startled.” you rolled your eyes and made your way towards the Great Hall while talking to Draco about how you joined forces with some Ravenclaws to prank some students.

Draco was one of your best friends, besides Hermione. You two used to share each other everything. From Draco’s father treating him badly to your family problems. You would say that you were closer to Draco than Hermione. As a result, you two knew everything about each other. You both never hid anything from each other. It was as if you two ruled Hogwarts. Though he didn’t like you being friends with The Golden Trio, he never really tried to ruin your relationship with them, which you admired him for.

You two entered the Great Hall laughing your heart out. You had to admit you felt safe, loved, and important around him. It was a weird feeling that you disregarded. You’ve never felt this way before. You were snapped out from your thoughts by Pansy, who was ranting about how she was tortured by Blaise. She said, “Y/n are you listening to me?!” “Oh, sorry I-I wasn’t listening to you.” Pansy huffed and went on about how annoyed she was with Blaise. As the two of you were having a conversation, a voice from behind spoke “Do you mind if I sit here?” you turned around to see who it was, Daphne, you thought to yourself, the girl who is madly in love with your best friend. You couldn’t lie but you despised her with your whole heart, with every inch and cell of your body. You never really knew why.

Pansy patted the space beside her where Daphne sat. You all talked about how stressful your days have become with the upcoming OWLS, everything was becoming exhausting. Your eyes fell on Draco and Daphne talking. You couldn't help but get irritated with them.

You never wanted to fall for your best friend and the fact that you never told him was because you were scared, scared of losing him completely. So, you pretended to be a best friend rather than a lover.

After your breakfast, you and Draco were taking a walk in the Courtyard, it was you who was talking and Draco remained quiet. It was unusual of him because he used to be the one talking most of the time. You grew suspicious of why he was acting strange around you “Why are you all silent today?” he looked at you and sighed “Look I want to tell you something but I don’t know how you’ll react.” “Just say it already!” you were growing anxious with every second passing. He deeply sighed and continued “Look this is unexpected and I-I don’t know how to explain this. But I guess I like someone. Maybe not like but love.” you were dumbfounded. There were no words that came out of your mouth. “Wh-who is it?” “Daphne. I guess I am falling for her. It feels weird whenever you were with her. I feel safe, I-I feel like myself whenever I am with her. We have been talking to each other for a while now.” all the things he said flashed in front of your eyes, the way they see each other and talk. It finally made sense.

You said, “That’s great, I-I had no idea! That’s- did you tell her yet?” “I was going to ask your help for that. Do you think it is wise?” with an aching heart you continued, “Yeah-Yeah, I-I think it is wise. I am sure she likes you too.” you wanted to take back all of the things you said. How could you do this yourself? Well, you just wanted your best friend to be happy. And he made his way towards Daphne. You stood there stoned. Your heart was beating fast and you wanted to give in and tell him that you were in love with him. You couldn’t hide this feeling. It was love. Sadly, you were too late. He was the only thought that goes on your mind. You would give him the world. Instead, you are watching the love of your life with someone else.

Days turned into months and they were the talk of the town. Everyone knew about them. They were perfect for each other. It was evident in the way the two looked at each other. You still did talk to Draco now and then but it was not like before.

Hermione knew everything, she tried her best to distract your mind from this but you couldn’t suffice this pain. It was everlasting. He was your everything. How could you let this all go? You couldn't even tell him that you love him. You were afraid of losing him yet you lost him.

You watched them every single day in hopes that one day he will see you the way you see him. This feeling was unbearable. You cried for days together, not being able to bear this excruciating agony. How could he not see the way you treat him? Why her and not me?

You could swear you would love him more than anyone has ever loved him. He was the thought that wanders in your mind. You choke on your own words every time you talk to him.

Daphne was beautiful and so much better than you. You could never compete with her. You watched them as they were now exchanging hugs, kissing each other, and being the best versions of themselves. They complete each other. You had and will never have any role. Were you not loveable? Could no one love you? These thoughts surround you creating havoc in your life. You weren’t able to concentrate on things you once loved. You were incomplete without him. He completes you. In a blink of an eye, everything was taken away from you.

Present Day-

You were now waiting for Draco as he said he wanted you to be there for this special occasion. He was wearing his black suit and walking down the stairs. He looked so fascinating. You could stare at him for hours and days together. He looked divine, his soft and glowing grey eyes staring right at you. You shook out of your thoughts only to see him looking at you, confused. “What is it?” he asks inquiring. “Uh…why did you call me?” you said, “I think it is time.” “Time for what?” you asked giving him a small smile. He chuckled and replied, “I think it's time for me to propose Daphne.” you stopped in your tracks, leaving Draco clueless. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see you in tears as you looked up at him. He had never seen you like this before. “Hey, what happened?” he said with concern. “I am happy for you, Draco.” you lied, not wanting to ruin his day. You had to lie. It is better off like this, not knowing how one feels. You managed to control your tears and wiped them off your face.

Draco was too happy to notice anything. He went on “So what do you think?” with a heavy heart you continued “Yes, I think it is for the best. I mean, look at you, you both look great together.” you both came to a stop as you reached the Great Hall. You turned to each other and hugged for the last time.

“All the best, I know she’ll say yes,” you said as you let go of him. He told you to come and see the show that he will be putting up. You said you’ll be there for him. After he left all the tears came rushing down your cheeks and you couldn’t help but tell yourself that you’ll be okay.

Oh god, how he put the ring in Daphne’s perfect hands and how they kissed each other passionately. You wished it was you who was in his arms, you who would kiss his tender lips, you who would love him eternally and be by his side. Does he not see it? While you were watching them kissing each other a hand came and rested on your shoulder. It was Hermione, she was passing by and saw you in this situation and came to comfort you.

“Hey,” she said looking at you with guilt. “Hey…” you said apathetically. You both stayed silent for a few minutes and then you started, out of nowhere “It hurts…” “what” Hermione asked turning towards you. “Loving someone who doesn’t love you,” you said looking at them as they now were laughing and surrounded by their friends, who were congratulating them.

You returned to your dorm laying down in your bed while staring up at the ceiling recalling the times when you and Draco ruled Hogwarts. How you both would prank your classmates, go up to the Astronomy Tower for stargazing and sneak in some snacks during classes. It was all gone now. What was left was your bleeding heart that is longing for a touch, a touch it will never get.

A/n- I think I did a pretty good job. What do y'all think? I hope you all did like it! And yes, I have changed the layout because why not? Feel free to leave your suggestions :)

Tags- @kazscrow @thehalfbloodedwitch @miss-celestial-being @pottahishotasf

If you want to join my taglist, click here

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stargazer-balladeer · 2 years

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“I won't say I’m in love” [Twisted Wonderland]

Song lyric: I won’t say I’m in love - Hercules

Characters Included: Sebek Zigvolt + GN! Reader

Notes: ya'll know the saying that goes - "the writing reflects the person". since this fic is a mess, it reflects how my brain works at the moment. Hope ya'll like this!

Warning: slight angst ig

“I will NEVER fall in love with a human, EVER!”

Sebek proclaimed this when he was young. He saw how his fae mother is smitten with his human father but he could never understand how she fell in love with the human. He fully wanted to devote himself to serving Malleus that he wouldn’t bat an eye at those who tries to win his heart.

But ever since he met you, his whole world turned upside down.

He cannot fathom why his heart is beating fast inside his chest when you’re near him. He cannot fathom why, even the faintest touch from you, cause his cheeks to burn. He cannot fathom why his thoughts were filled with you constantly, day and night. He was sure you cursed him!

But Lilia and his fellow Diasomina disagree with his statement. They could clearly see that he was falling for the human - you. Most of his companions were amused by the fact that Sebek managed to break one of his promises to himself - to never fall in love with a human and now he’s here, smitten with one.

“You’re in love, Sebek!” Lilia cheered, throwing red roses over the flustered boy as the other two clapped in the background. “Fufu this is quite fascinating. I can still clearly see his face when the human passed by.” Malleus teased as he crossed his arms in front of him. Silver scratched the back of his neck while chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the day that this would happen.”

“ARGGH WRONG!” Sebek screamed at them which made them freeze in surprise. Though he loses his fright since his face is a literal strawberry red-colored, he still sounds commanding as ever. “I’M NOT IN LOVE OR FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE HUMAN! NOT NOW NOT EVER! AND THAT’S FINAL!” After that, he proceeds to stomp away while grumbling loudly leaving three stunned Diasomnia members.

“… oh my, dear Sebek is going through the in-denial stage.” The other two agreed with the old man’s saying.

Sebek convinces himself that these feelings would go away if he avoids you, but he soon realized it’s much harder to say it rather than do it. He tries to avoid you as best as he could but you still managed to force your way beside him. He tries to push you away but you’re still stuck with him.

How could you be so infuriating yet so loveable at the same time?!

“I told you to stay away from me!” Sebek’s booming voice rang through the hallways as he glares at you with his piercing eyes. You huffed, putting your hands on your hips while narrowing your eyes at him. “Why are you pushing me away? I told you that I just need your help-“ “It’s because you’re annoying!” He cuts you off with annoyance dripping from his voice.

He didn’t dare to look directly in your eyes, fearing he might regret it. But deep inside, he’s already regretting the words coming out of his mouth. He chews the bottom of his lips as he stares at the wall. “You’re a nuisance to me, always in the way. Always thinking you’re above me by pushing me around. I hate everything about you.” He finishes in a rather surprising soft tone.

His ears became deaf from the loud silence emitting from you. You didn’t even utter another word as you started to walk away from him, leaving him in the shadows of his regret.

He didn’t mean any of the words that came out of his mouth that day, he hoped in his heart that you’ll continue to remain by his side even through it, what a selfish man he is indeed.

The next day, you didn’t greet him like you always do, choosing to sit with another person. You didn’t look his way. You didn’t spare any of your attention to him. It makes his heart ache even more.

Why is his pride so big that he chose to hurt himself?

“I know I’m not supposed to be meddling with your private affairs but this is getting ridiculous, even for you Sebek.” Sebek’s head shot up from his gaze down the courtyard where you were conversing with the Adeuce combo towards his small senior. He blinks owlishly before huffing. “With due respect, Lilia-sama, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lilia rolls his eyes at his cute but utterly stupid junior as he floats upside down beside him, gazing at the person Sebek was watching earlier.

“I’m aware that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for a human like how your mother fell in love with your father but is it honestly that bad? I mean, your heart what it wants no?” Sebek remained silent. Lilia sighed. “You even have the guts to tell them such hurtful words, I’m quite disappointed honestly.” Lilia forces Sebek to face him to make eye contact with the previous general. “You have one job to do right now Sebek. Apologize. Make things right with them. Throw away those walls, throw away your pride. Choose what matters to you.” With that, Lilia promptly disappears, leaving Sebek in his thoughts before promptly walking away with a newfound determination.

Sebek is one of the many people studying in NRC that is not completely honest with his feelings, he had one goal in life before - to serve Malleus. But now, he has another goal - to right his wrongs, to undo his mistake of hurting you, to make you love him as well no matter what it takes or how long it will be.

Not many people know this but Sebek’s a patient man, he’d only become impatient if it’s regarding Malleus’ safety. He promises to cherish his partner for life if they’d still have him.

Sebek love is like waves, it still waves uncertainly but you know it’s true.

“I’M SORRY FOR SAYING THOSE THINGS! I’M SORRY FOR HURTING YOUR FEELINGS! I KNOW SORRY ISN’T GOING TO CUT IT SO YOU ARE FREE TO HIT ME AS MUCH AS YOU WANT!” Sebek’s loud voice rang through the halls once more, surprising you and a couple of students lingering in the hallway. It was in the exact location where he spewed those hateful words to you. And now trying to replace it with a new one.

He takes your hands hesitantly with flushed cheeks as he tries to make eye contact with you but failing. “S-So! I’m going to properly say it now, my true feelings… I love you, that’s the truth. You’re a precious human to me. If you don’t feel the same then I understand.” Sebek finished in a rather soft tone. So will you accept or reject his confession?

[x] Main Page || [x] Diasomnia Page

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst sebek #twst sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt

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luthienne · 3 years

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Louise Glück, from Averno

“Sometimes you leave your hair at the bus station & get on the bus & as your face falls asleep against the window you realize it is all your body now, everything between you & the pieces you lost once,”

Aracelis Girmay, from Kingdom Animalia; “Portrait of the Woman As a Skein”

Marie Howe, from Magdalene: Poems; “The Girl at 3″

“She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

“Many girls lock themselves up, / become pantries, closets. / Some, like trees, grow bark, / and others, like rivers, / burble into dimpled pools.”

Eli Mandel, from “Rapunzel (Girl in a Tower)"

“Sometimes I forget. I become a volatile spirit / a butterfly out of its wings, a blooming flower / in decay. I fall in love with ghosts and cry / when they flesh out,”

Mahtem Shiferraw, from Fuschia; “Being a Woman”

Aracelis Girmay, from “Portrait of the Woman as a Skein”

“Not every girl survives the forest. / Sometimes she becomes it.”

Catherine Garbinsky, from “The Princess & the Thorns,” Even Curses End

Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

“I was something else, not a girl, not a wolf, something blank-eyed, tired,”

Catherynne M. Valente, from The Bread We Eat in Dreams

“Shame fuses to silence letting the night maraud, killing bit by useless hope of not being this girl I was. Am. She is.”

Eimear McBride, from The Lesser Bohemians

“When I was a girl / and you were a girl / we were floral / and ungiveable. Squash / blossom. Bleeding / Hearts in the sideyard. / Vine, albino root. / Petals open only in the moonlight.”

Emily O'Neill, “Wedding Soup,” from Pelican

“Glory be to the girl who goes back for her body.”

Dominique Christina, from Star Gazer

“Cover the memory of your face with the mask of who you’ll be—come, and frighten the girl you used to be.”

Alejandra Pizarnik, from Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 (tr. Yvette Siegert), “Paths of the Mirror”

“—if I could remember a day when I was utterly a girl and not yet a woman— / but I don’t think there was a day like that for me. / When I look at the girl I was, dripping in her bathing suit, or riding her bike, pumping hard down the newly paved street, / she wears a furtive look— and even if I could go back in time to her as me, the age I am now / she would never come into my arms without believing that I wanted something.”

Marie Howe, from What the Living Do: Poems; “The Girl”

“‘How strange it is to long for one’s self!’ she said; ‘and yet I often, so often, long for myself as a young girl. I love her as one whom I had been very close to and shared life and happiness and everything with, and then had lost while I stood helpless.’”

Jens Peter Jacobsen, from Niels Lyhne

Mary Oliver, from Blue Horses; “Blueberries”

“Your bare feet became a woman's feet, always saying two things at once.”

Louise Glück, from Descending Figure

“And I must choose. War before me, and behind, a woman I do not know, the woman I could have been, a human woman, whole and hot.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

Louise Glück, from “The Myth of Innocence”

“Beware your face, / your limbs, your walk: / Gods see these / as invitations. / Beware of swans. / They may lift you / but you will fall. / Beware of children / hatched from eggs, / unfledged and beautiful: / they will burn / cities to the ground. / Don’t be seduced by the gods, / my daughter. / Though you break / into song beneath them / you will remain broken.”

Jeannine Hall Gailey, from Becoming the Villainess; “Leda’s Mother Warns Her”

“What could I have grown up to be? What kind of human woman, what kind of simple, happy thing? If I had never been broken on a bird’s wing. If I had never seen the world naked. I want to be myself again… I want to stop knowing everything I know.”

Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless

“But I don’t really like what I know; I don’t really care for wisdom and experience. I would rather believe, and beat out my brains, and believe some more. I do not like this safe well-armed woman I have become. The loud bleating disheveled starry reckless failed girl was a better person.”

Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“a child with seafoam eyes / and dusky skin might cry, there / goes a girl with seven thousand years / at the hollow of her throat,”

Amal El-Mohtar, from ‘Song for an Ancient City’

“I say “her,” because I don’t recall having been present, not in any meaningful sense of the word. I and the girl in the picture have ceased to be the same person. I am her outcome, the result of the life she once lived headlong; whereas she, if she can be said to exist at all, is composed only of what I remember.”

Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin

“There were always in me two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning, and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.”

Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Volume One, 1931-1934

“Come, let me suffer! That is worth more than viewing injustice with a serene countenance, as Shakespeare says. When I have drained my cup of bitterness, I shall feel better. I am a woman, I have affections, sympathies, and wrath.”

George Sand, in a letter to Gustave Flaubert

“Slapped the man’s face, then slapped it again, / broke the plate, broke the glass, pushed the cat / from the couch with my feet. Let the baby / cry too long, then shook him, / let the man walk, let the girl down, / wouldn’t talk, then talked too long, / lied when there was no need / and stole what others had, and never / told the secret that kept me apart from them. / Years holding on to a rope / that wasn’t there, always sorry / and righteous and wrong. Who would / follow that young woman down the narrow hallway? / Who would call her name until she turns?”

Marie Howe, “What I Did Wrong”

“She is a woman stranded at doorways and passivity is killing her. There is only one thing she can do. Make noise.”

Anne Carson, in her Introduction to Elektra

Audre Lorde, from The Black Unicorn: Poems

“Part of me died here / so another could go on.”

Marty McConnell, from “When They Say You Can’t Go Home Again, What They Mean Is You Were Never There”

“see, you will rise. / and are you less of a woman for this? / no / what is woman? / woman is this—enduring. / listen girl, you will survive this—you will. / but what fool said you had to do it silently? / here is a tip—scream”

Salma Deera, Letters From Medea, “medea gives advice to a young girl with a broken heart”

#compilation #quote compilation #words #the great wound #regarde comme ta fille est faite #long post #terfs dni #this is very long. but i needed to make it and every word was necessary so i am not sorry

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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bloodlust ~ jasper hale;twilight

word count: 1754

request?: yes!

“I’m not sure if you do Twilight, but if so can you please write a Jasper Hale x reader where it’s just him coming to terms with his feelings and trying not to push the reader away just cause they’re human. Thank you no matter what love :))”

description: when she thinks he’s avoiding her because he hates her, he has to tell her his biggest secret

pairing: jasper hale x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

masterlist (one, two)

I didn’t understand Bella’s extreme obsession with Edward Cullen after they started dating until Jasper Hale started showing me the same attention.

I had known Jasper since the Cullens moved to Forks. Or rather I knew of Jasper. Much like his adopted siblings, Jasper kept to himself or to the Cullens. It wasn’t until our English teacher paired us together for a project that I finally got to know him.

Despite the whole school knowing that Jasper and Alice were together, I started to notice that the way he looked at me, or the way he treated me, mirrored Edward and Bella’s own romance. And before I knew it, my feelings also mirrored Bella’s.

I felt on top of the world to have the attention of such a beautiful man. I felt unworthy, but at the same time I felt a sense of pride. And overall, I felt strong, romantic feelings for Jasper; feelings I was sure he had for me as well.

Until he started ignoring me suddenly. He wouldn’t talk to me, he changed seats in English class to be further away from me. He wouldn’t even look at me when we were in the same room.

“He hates me,” I said to Jessica as Jasper drifted past me in the lunchroom without acknowledgement once again. “I don’t now why, but that’s the only reason I can think of that he’d be ignoring me.”

“Or Alice has him back on her chain,” Jessica suggested with a shrug.

“He and Alice broke up a while ago, Jess,” Angela pointed out. “Didn’t you know that?”

I laughed as Jessica shook her head. “The great gossip of Forks didn’t know something? Mark the calendar, Angela, this is a historic day.”

Jessica threw her nearly rock hard dinner roll at me.

That evening while I was home alone, a knock came at my front door. Confused, I went to answer. I was shocked to see Jasper stood there, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Jas?” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I owe you an explanation,” he told me. “Care for a drive?”

I followed him to the flashy sports car he drove, one of very few in all of Forks - the others belonging to his siblings. He held the door open for me as I got in. He was in the driver’s seat and had the car started before I even had my seatbelt on.

Jasper’s driving was way too fast, and he was weaving in and out of the cars too carelessly. I was starting to regret my decision to get in his car. One hand was gripping the passenger door so tightly my knuckles were white. Jasper noticed and chuckled.

“Relax, I drive like this all the time,” he assured me.

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I muttered. Jasper chuckled again, which made me slightly annoyed.

After some time, Jasper pulled up to a hiking trail a short ways out of town. I watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. He paused, waiting for me to follow. I was starting to feel panicked and wondered why I had decided to go with him. Why had he brought me out here alone? Why hadn’t I told anyone where I was going before I left home?

We walked in silence for a while. I started falling behind, stumbling over the twigs and rocks. At one point I almost fell, but Jasper was quick to steady me.

“I forgot you can’t walk as quickly as I can,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” I asked, but he had already started walking again.

We came to a clearing where the sun was just peaking through the trees. Jasper paused, looking back at me for a moment. “This is going to look silly for a moment, but know there is something serious underneath it.”

Before I could ask, Jasper stepped into one of the sunny patches. I gasped as his skin lit up like a diamond under light. He looked anywhere but at me, as if afraid to see what my reaction to this was.

I approached him slowly, extending a hand towards him. I poked some exposed skin, wondering if I was about to find out I was dreaming or that Jasper had never been real to begin with. His skin was cold and hard as stone, and I realized in that moment that I had never touched Jasper’s bare skin before.

“What is this?” I asked. “What are you showing me?”

“I heard you talking to Jessica and Angela at lunch today,” he explained, “about whether or not I hated you and if that was why I was avoiding you. But the truth is I was avoiding you for the opposite reason. I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I never could, but I’m dangerous. To you, anyways.”

I stepped back, feeling very uneasy. “What do you mean, Jas?”

“I’m not...human,” he explained. “And I haven’t been for decades. There are many names for what I am, but the most commonly used is vampire.”

I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I was convinced this was some sort of practical joke on me, but I didn’t think any of the Cullens were capable of doing that.

“Are...are all of you...” I started, trying to find my words.

“We are,” he confirmed. “Carlisle found all of us and changed most of us. There’s a very long history about our family. I won’t go into it now, I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked him.

Jasper stepped out of the light, his skin almost immediately returning to normal. Every logical part of me was telling me not to let Jasper get closer to me, but at the same time I trusted him. I didn’t think he was going to hurt me, I trusted him not to hurt me.

He reached out for me, but hesitated. Against my better judgement, I stepped forward to let him touch me. His hands were cold against the skin on my exposed arms. His golden eyes looked down into mine and I felt myself subconsciously leaning into his body.

“Because I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for anyone besides Alice before,” he told me. “And I know you feel the same way for me. I tried to distance myself for your safety. I’m still new to living with humans as I was the last to join the Cullen’s lifestyle of just feeding from animals, but I realized that was only hurting you more. I needed to tell you so that you could make your own decision about how you felt for me.”

He was right, it was a lot to take in. I had so many questions, but at the mention of Alice I realized there was one outstanding question I needed answered before we went any further.

“What about you and Alice?” I asked. “You two have been together...I guess basically forever. What made you two decide to break up?”

“Alice, Edward and I all have special powers that we developed after we were changed. Edward can read minds, I can feel and manipulate emotions - which is how I know for sure that you feel the same way for me - and Alice can see the future. She saw many visions that included you - most of which included the two of us in a romantic setting. I told her it would never happen because I loved her so much, but she was so sure I’d love you too. She told me to wait until we were paired up for that project and I’d actually get to know you, then I could make that decision.”

I winced. Knowing that Alice saw visions of her boyfriend falling in love with another woman - a human at that - before Jasper even knew I existed made me feel guilty.

“Was she angry?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

Jasper laughed, a beautiful sound that echoed through the otherwise empty woods. “Not at all. If anything, she was excited. She claims that you two are going to be best friends the way she is with Bella, and she’s very excited to have another female in the family. That is...if you’re still willing to be with me with...what you know now.”

I had to admit, the thought of the person I was in love with being a vampire was terrifying. Not because of the needing to drink blood to live - like I said, I trusted Jasper. If his or any of the Cullens’ desire for blood was a risk, they wouldn’t be living amongst humans. But the thought of growing old while Jasper remained the same age forever, of him eventually not wanting to be with me because of that age difference was terrifying. And the alternative...I didn’t want to consider that right now.

I moved closer to Jasper. He moved his hands to my waist, pulling me so that my body was touching his. Our lips were inches away, and I finally leaned in to close the gap between us.

His lips, much like the rest of his body, were cold, but I felt a sensation when kissing him that I had never felt before. I placed a hand against his face, gently stroking his hard skin as our lips moved perfectly together. His grip around my waist tightened a little, but not enough to hurt me. It felt more like he was making sure I wouldn’t disappear on him.

I pulled away first, resting my forehead against his. “I hope that gives you your answer.”

He smiled and I felt a happy sensation wash over me. I remembered he said he could manipulate the emotions of others and I wondered if his happiness was so strong that it was effecting me as well, or if he wanted me to know how happy he felt.

“We should get you home,” he said. “Your parents will probably be worried sick if they come home and you’re missing.”

“You’re right,” I said. I reluctantly pulled him his grasp, but took his hand in mine as we walked back to the car. “But can you not drive like a maniac on the way home? I’d rather not die of a heart attack in your car.”

Jasper chuckled. “No promises. One thing you have to learn about vampires, we love to go fast.”

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jackson rathbone #jackson rathebone imagine #jackson rathbone x reader #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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oddaodd · 3 years

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· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

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nostaren · 3 years

Text

Mr. Lonely

TOJI FUSHIGURO X READER

part 15 | series masterlist | next

Spending time with your underclassmen had proved to be really refreshing, as hesitant to the idea as you had been at first. The time was as such that you ideally should’ve been asleep by now, especially considering you had places to be tomorrow, but you didn’t feel tired in the slightest.

At exactly 3 am, you, Yuuji and Nobara were venturing the school premises, walking animatedly and acting very much like drunken fools without actually having had anything to drink. It was odd how much energy the three of you had, what with having not slept since the previous night.

“I’m telling you, he must be putting wax in his hair to have it stand up like that.”

“I don’t know, Itadori… Fushiguro doesn’t seem like the person to do anything with his hair other than brush it.”

You thought about it, Megumi standing in front of a mirror and maneuvering his hands to style each strand. You snorted at the mental image. “Definitely not.”

Itadori’s hands moved to run through his pink locks. “And I do?”

“Yes,” both you and Nobara said in unison.

His response was gleeful. “So out of the two of us, I actually take care of myself!”

You and Nobara shared a glance, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles. While not particularly regimen-conscious, Megumi definitely took better care of his hygiene, the lack of smelling of sweat nearly as frequently as Yuuji being evidence to that.

“Why are you laughing? Oh! By the way, Kugisaki, we needed to read some pages in some book until tomorrow—no, later today? I just… don’t remember which book… or which pages.”

“What!? Why the hell are you telling me now?”

“You were away with Fushiguro and Panda all day! Oh no, I forgot to tell him too—ow! Stop hitting me!”

You zoned out the rest of the conversation, not really a part of it, instead becoming lost in your thoughts while trudging along to their pace.

The original plan had been to bring Megumi with you, too, but when Yuuji had incessantly knocked on his door, his response after a few minutes was to open it, call you lot morons for waking him up over something so ridiculous, then promptly sliding it shut. Hence Megumi being the subject of discussion for a good bit of your walk when the male wasn’t there to hear any of it. Nothing too horrible was brought up, just stuff that would surely make him sneeze a couple of times.

Before Yuuji had joined in, it was Nobara that dragged you out of bed, angrily going out about how men weren’t shit and how you shouldn’t spend even one second of your precious time mulling over him. Hearing her exclaim all of that without even knowing the full story pulled at your heartstrings. Nobara proved time after time how much of an unconditional friend she was, having your back even when you didn’t ask for it.

You hadn’t really been left to sort your thoughts the whole day, having been accompanied by at least one person at all times if you didn’t count the small window between when Gojo had escorted you to your room to when Nobara had come to get you. And while it would have been comforting to spill everything to Nobara—heck, even Gojo—you held back because you couldn’t help but feel it was an irrational sadness.

Because yes, you did feel a little sad.

The feeling creeped up on you as a few minutes passed of blankly watching shadows shifting across trees and listening to the bickering of your friends, sometimes adding to it, but otherwise just tagging along.

It was from being attentive of your surroundings that allowed you to notice a fourth person. A lone figure leaned on the railing of the approaching bridge, slightly hunched over and lazily typing away at his phone.

It was by no means odd to see a person out at this hour, but within these particular school grounds? That was odd. You were outside despite it being past curfew, and you couldn’t recognize the silhouette in the distance to be one of the students. There weren't even as many students as there were fingers on your two hands, so you'd recognize any of them.

Hopefully he wasn't a teacher that you just didn't recognize, like Nanami.

Or, if he was a teacher, you hoped he was one that was as lenient about rules as Gojo.

Either way, you'd likely just pass him by and throw a casual ‘hello’ at him. No need to work yourself up over it.

But in the day's second douse of horrendous luck, your eyes, even in the dark, happened to catch sight of the particular way black strands of hair fell over his face. Your lips puckered as you took in his quite tall frame and the outline of his legs. After a moment of contemplation, you, brows furrowing, craned your neck to get a better look at him.

Was that—?

No. Fucking. Way.

“Guys let’s go that way,” you attempted to whisper over their exhilarated yelling from a heated argument, heart hammering loudly in your ears and adding to the stress of a situation you did not want to be in. When that didn’t work, you pulled at the back of Nobara’s shirt.

“Hey, that’s going to wrinkle!”

Her exclamation fell short when seeing your form shrunken on itself in an attempt at hiding.

“…you okay?”

“It’s—“ you threw a pointed glance towards the figure up front. “It’s him.”

She turned to look.

“Not so obvious,” you hissed, inwardly groaning at how there was no way a certain someone wouldn’t realize you were now talking about him if he so much as glanced up.

Yuuji meanwhile observed your exchange, oblivious to what exactly was happening but still managing to draw some (very faulty) conclusions of his own.

“Eh? Do you know him?” Yuuji squinted his eyes as if that would make him see better in the dark. To your horror, his arm moved up in a wave. “HEEEEEY!! OVER HE—mmph!”

You tackled him to the ground with a hand pressed to his mouth, tumbling into a nearby brush just as the figure ahead looked up from his phone. That left Nobara standing there awkwardly, staring at Fushiguro looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

Your hands moved to loosely enclose around Yuuji’s throat in a mock-choking manner, whispering, “You’re a moron, you know that?”

“I know,” he whispered back. “But what did I do wrong this time?”

Your mouth opened to take your words back because now you felt a little bad, but Nobara’s “psst” interrupted you.

You looked up from Yuuji. “What do I do!?” Nobara hissed through gritted teeth.

A few seconds of deafening silence passed whereas you tried to think of something, but you apparently thought for too long because she finally decided on very obviously ducking into the bush with the rest of the crew.

Great. Real inconspicuous, Nobara. No way he could’ve seen that.

The three of you sat looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to do next.

“What’s he even doing here?” you broke the silence, being mindful of keeping your voice low.

“He can’t enter without permission, so he must be here for Gojo-sensei or principal Yaga… Right?” came Nobara’s answer.

She was right. He couldn’t have gone through the barriers put up by Tengen if not invited. So had Gojo somehow found out that it was Fushiguro that was involved? Or…

You couldn’t feel even a slither of cursed energy reeking from his person, no matter how hard you concentrated, meaning he must be a civilian. Gojo had a knack for doing things inappropriately, but to invite a civilian into Jujutsu High? Surely, he didn’t…

But then again, you knew nothing of their relationship.

Either way, you just wished to remain hidden until he was done with whatever business he had here so you could make your way to the dorms and sleep the accumulated stress away.

Some shuffling from the left broke your thoughts. Yuuji was crouching down, peering through the leaves. “He’s gone.”

A collective sigh of relief was heard.

It didn’t last long.

“This peeping tom a friend of yours?”

“Uwaah!”

The three of you scrambled away from the source of the sudden voice.

While the question undoubtedly was directed at you, Fushiguro didn’t seem to know who you were.

The three of you shared a knowing glace, each expression some form of shock, feeling a little disturbed over how he had managed to sneak behind all of you, civilian or not.

His eyes skimmed over your forms, back and forth and then further to the sides as if looking for someone else. Not finding it, his eyes zoned in on you and Nobara. “So, which one of you is it?”

Nobara, immediately realizing what he meant, angrily exclaimed, “Do I look that old to you!?” and pointed an accusatory finger at you, as if you were the one to cause her offense. You wanted to tell her that three years wasn’t much, and that it wasn’t really enough to tell that much of a difference, but your mouth remained clamped shut.

Green eyes met yours. “Leave us.”

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Yuuji moving to stand. “You expect us to just leave Y/n-senpai alone with you!?”

Sweet, sweet Yuuji.

Nobara moved to stand as well, grabbing Yuuji by the arm. “We’ll be on our way now. You two take your time.”

Horrible, horrible Nobara.

You thought she’d want you to—had even told you to—move past him, not to figure things out. Admittedly, you’d rather do the former than the latter because at least then you wouldn’t need to talk about feelings yuck and you hadn’t had any time to really think whether or not to forgive him, should he apologize.

Yuuji sputtered in disagreement and you could do nothing but break eye-contact with the looming man above you to watch as Nobara dragged a flailing Yuuji behind her, wishing it was you in his stead.

“You have alllll night,” she winked.

And then you were alone with Fushiguro.

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#OOOOO CLIFFHANGER??#the moment we’ve all been waiting for #is y/n finally gonna meet da worm #wingman nobara #this is unedited #I just wanted to get it out and sleep lol #I’ll fix any errors tomorrow #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #smau #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #imagines

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact.

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again.

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?”

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.”

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably.

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

***

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?”

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms.

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.”

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

***

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?”

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then.

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.”

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.”

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now, he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now.

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before.

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional.

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table. It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it.

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.”

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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