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bruh-2004 · 7 months

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GOOD ENOUGH - LEE JOOYEON

GENRE: fluff, drama, romance.

SYNOPSIS: you and Jooyeon had been arguing for a few weeks, you asked Jooyeon for a break and he agreed, but it was being very difficult for you to stay away from each other, especially for Jooyeon who stayed on the sidewalk in front of your house every night, looking in hopes of seeing you once again.

! INSPIRATIONAL MUSIC

(English is not my native language, forgive any writing errors <3)

Anyway, it was another lonely and cold night, autumn was looking like winter, you spent your days at home and only went out when you really needed to. Jooyeon didn't care about how cold it was, he was back on the sidewalk in front of his house, his motorcycle was parked near a tree and he was leaning on it.

His gaze was fixed on your house, specifically on the windows, every time watching carefully in the hope of being able to see as much of you as he could. Whenever he saw you at the window, his heart sank, he felt an immense desire to run to the door of your house and ring the doorbell, but he wouldn't do that, he promised you that he would respect your time.

It had been about 3 weeks since you had a serious argument, Jooyeon had had a huge jealousy crisis towards a good friend of yours and he exploded saying things without thinking that hurt you, it wasn't the first time he was jealous of your friend friend, but it was the first time he was so aggressive with his words. He completely regrets that, he apologized to you repeatedly with tears in his eyes, but you needed time, you needed to get over it all and think calmly about what will really be best for you.

Of course you don't want to end it permanently, you love him too much, you don't want to end 3 years of dating like this, but because Jooyeon is naturally jealous you still find yourself in doubt, after all he could act like that again in another crisis, it's a complicated situation . Jooyeon hopes that you forgive him and give him another chance, he loves you as much as you love him, the boy cries every day thinking about the possibility of having to live without you because of his mistake, you also cry every day thinking about it , neither of you two wanted to break up, but you hadn't made up your mind yet and Jooyeon was just patiently waiting for your decision.

*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o

It had been about an hour since Jooyeon was still observing your house, you had already noticed that he did this every night, it broke your heart to see him in that lonely state and with such a sad face, but you needed to keep your word so you just pretended I hadn't noticed him there.

The sound of the rain increased and looking out the window you watched the heavy rain falling, you noticed Jooyeon standing there in the same place, all wet and you could see him shaking, your heart sank and tears wanted to start escaping your eyes, you didn't I would be able to handle it better.

Jooyeon was more downcast when he saw you closing all the windows, this was more painful than hitting your finger on the corner, he sighed letting tears fall and he had decided to leave. He took the bike off the tree and when he was about to climb on it he heard a sweet voice that made him smile hopefully.

"JOOYEON, HEY JOOYEON, LOOK OVER HERE!" it was your voice, you were shouting his name from across the street while holding an umbrella. Your heart seemed to skip a beat when your gaze met his, you watched the smile on his lips forming and that was when you realized, you wouldn't be able to live without him. "YOU'RE GOING TO GET SICK IF YOU CONTINUE IN THIS RAIN, COME HOME WITH ME" you shouted again, as an automatic behavior the boy went to meet you taking the motorbike with him, he stood in front of you and you felt an immense urge to jump on him and kiss him, but you chose to hold back because the intention was to at least talk to him and get him out of the rain (even though, deep down, you had already forgiven him).

"Hi Y/N... You shouldn't have gone out, the rain is very strong" he said, still in the rain while holding the bike, you sighed and pulled his arm under the umbrella, Jooyeon felt warm just by to be so close to you again.

"Shut up, look at your condition! It's not me you should worry about, come on" you started walking towards your house, Jooyeon couldn't help but laugh secretly at your very peculiar way of showing concern.

You let the boy store the motorcycle in the garage of your house and they finally entered the house, a good feeling of comfort arose in Jooyeon, he missed entering your house and spending days with you. You went upstairs, going directly into your room, Jooyeon's situation was really sad, he was shaking and chattering his teeth, you took him to the bedroom's bathroom and immediately grabbed a towel.

"What's your problem, huh? Why do you keep coming to my street in this cold? You could end up catching pneumonia!" You said drying his hair, Jooyeon smiled and looked at you realizing that you were really worried about him.

"I don't care, I just wanted to see you a few more times... To know if you were okay... I miss you" his speech didn't stop shaking you, you looked at him and almost let yourself be played in his arms.

"Joo... I..." you were afraid of the words, the boy put a finger in your mouth and shook his head.

"You don't need to answer me about this, it's okay... I just wanted you to know" you sighed, even with your eyes swollen, shaking from the cold and sad he still said it was okay... Jooyeon is adorable and that's it. breaks with all his pose.

"Well... I think you'd better take a shower to take off those wet clothes, I found one of your clothes that ended up here at home, you wear it, I'll get it for you" he nodded and before you left he held you.

"Thank you for still worrying about me and know that I really regret everything I told you" his look was sincere, you knew that, you let go of his light grip and nodded.

"We'll talk about it later, take care of yourself first" so you left the bathroom to go get his clothes and automatically a smile formed on your face, you were happy to have him there, you finally felt like you had already made the final decision.

*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. O

The two of you were now sitting facing each other on the sofa in the living room, a strange silence occupied the room, after Jooyeon finished his bath you made him chamomile tea to warm him up more, he was happy that you made his favorite tea , but now it seemed like neither of them knew what to say, in fact they did, but they didn't know where to start.

"Y/N I... I'm sorry for everything I said that day... I exploded and said things without thinking..." he began with a certain care in his speech, but he felt like crying, you you noticed his eyes filling with tears again and it broke you. "I'm sorry, I hated myself so much every day, I wish I could go back in time and erase all that, I love you so much and I don't know what to do without you... Let me stay by your side, please, that's it." good enough for me” he broke down in tears, seeing him crying made you want to cry too. You held back the tears and got closer to him who kept his head down, you held his hands with yours and at the same time he looked at you.

"Jooyeon, please don't cry, you know I hate seeing you like this" the boy tried to stop the tears, but his attempts were in vain, you took one of your hands to his face, drying the entire area. "You really made me hurt, the words hurt a lot and thinking that you considered the idea of me having something with my friend was too much for me... But I calmed down and thought about it a lot, I talked a lot with the wise Gun- il too... You won't live without me, I won't allow that to happen" you opened a welcoming smile to the blonde in front of you, who let a light smile appear on his lips.

"Wait... Does that mean... That you've forgiven me!?" You laughed lightly at his exaltation, your head nodded and your hand that was on his face went to his hair, giving it a brief caress.

"Yes dear, I forgive you, you showed that you are true and that you are truly sorry... I love you so much Joo, I wouldn't know what to do without you, I need you with me, every day, afternoon and night" the joy was so much for him that he practically threw himself into your arms.

You gave each other a long hug, full of longing and showing how much you love each other. When you separated, you smiled at each other and looked at each other in silence for a few seconds.

"You just have to promise me that you'll try your best not to do that again, okay?" he nodded frantically.

"Of course, I promise, that won't happen again... Thank you for giving me another chance" you nodded and smiled at him.

"Okay, now stop being sentimental and come here, I really need to kiss you" without giving him time to say anything you joined your lips with his and while they kissed you sat on his lap.

It was a hot kiss, but not in a sexual sense, hot in the sense of having so many feelings involved, so much longing to kill that in seconds you felt yourself running out of breath, but still you didn't separate from him. His hands held your waist firmly, your hands wrapped around the back of his head and pulled his hair lightly.

"I love you so much Y/N, let me stay tonight, please, I need you so much" he quickly separated his lips from yours to say this, you smiled between the kiss that followed and nodded.

"Of course, stay tonight, I love you too and I need you too, I really need you."

And that was how the two of you finally resolved and missed each other, you felt that the bond between you two became even stronger and that from now on nothing could easily shake your relationship.

END.

#xdinary heroes fanfic #xdinary heroes x reader #jooyeon x reader #jooyeon #jooyeon fluff #jooyeon xdinary heroes #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdh fluff #Spotify

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that-scouse-wizard · 1 year

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David Willows and the Creeping Cold

Chapter 1: Prologue

A/N: Hey everyone, welcome to the beginning of a story that is long overdue, this first chapter is only short but I’m hoping to get out new chapters consistently from this point. Please, let me know what you think. Without much further ado, hope you enjoy!

31st of August, 1980, Liverpool

It was a dry but cool summer day in the city Liverpool. The weather gave a perfect excuse for making the most of playing outside before the chill of autumn would start to set in. Which is exactly what brothers Jacob and David Hall were doing. The green spaces in the suburb of Allerton where they lived would do nicely.

Just the two of them meant they could do little more than pass a football back and forth between themselves but that wouldn’t stop them enjoying it. Both boys were clad in the red and white of Liverpool Football Club.

“Come on Jake! Bet my team would beat yours if we were in a match!” David playfully sneered as he kicked the ball towards his brother, brown eyes glinting with mischief. A scraggy youngster of just seven, chin-length brown hair dripping with sweat. They had been at it for half an hour and while the young boy was breathing heavily from the exertion, he still felt like going for longer.

“Yeah, in your dreams, Pip!” Jacob fired back, passing the ball with a hard kick. Being the elder brother, Jacob had roughly nine years on David with just as stark a contrast appearance-wise. Though his hair was also brown, his was closely cropped while his eyes were a piercing blue. Being older, he stood over a foot taller than his younger sibling and had a lean, athletic build from his years as a chaser of the Gryffindor quidditch team.

In spite of the obvious differences, the two were close, David being an almost constant companion whenever Jacob was back home from attending Hogwarts. Jacob always found a way to sneak him bits and pieces from the wizarding world, their mother usually seeming apprehensive though allowing it to happen.

Pretending to duel with liquorice wands, Jacob teaching David all about Quidditch with the same fervour he showed for football, and the older of the two always making time for David whenever he was home.

The football curved as it sailed past David, the young boy giving chase. He soon became aware of Jacob starting into a run as well, David knew what was coming. He tried to pick up the pace but being much younger, smaller and less-athletic had its downsides. Jacob’s thundering footfalls closed in and David was scooped up under his older brother’s arm.

The two brother’s laughed together, David loving the feeling of being carried as Jacob chased after the ball. It wasn’t long before they caught up to it though it soon became the last thing on their minds as Jacob set David down on the grass, too caught up enjoying time together that they knew was fleeting.

“Do you really need to go tomorrow?” David asked despondently, a pang of sadness settling in him at the thought of his role model leaving.

Jacob’s look was sympathetic, “I’m afraid I do mate, you know how important it is for me to be there, don’t you?”

“I know,” David said unhappily, “With you, and the-” Jacob held a finger a to his lips, almost frantically, indicating for David to be quiet.

“Not a word about that part, remember, it’s a secret. But you know? When you’re old enough, I’ll take you on all sorts of adventures.” Jacob got down on David’s level , clasping him around the shoulders as he stuck one of his arms out dramatically, “The Hall Brothers: Curse Breaker Extraordinaires! The dynamic duo and their mates take on the world!”

David couldn’t resist the feeling of joy as he laughed at the thought, “There we go! Feelin’ better?” Jacob asked, “Good lad,” He said as David gave a nod, tousling his little brother’s hair affectionately, “Enjoy your classes, make lots of friends, and I know you’ll go far in the school.”

As the two of them made their way from the park, the ball in tow, Jacob had just one last thing to say.

“I promise you, Pip, you’re goin’ to love it at Hogwarts.”

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #jacob's sibling #david willows #jacob hall

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werdlewrites · 1 year

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Season of The Witch (Steve Harrington x OC)

Chapter Seventeen: Serve It On A Silver Platter

MasterlistAbout Me Patreon!

Summary: “I’ve got a spot at my table with your name on it, if you want t’come.” The offer leaves Autumn in a state of shock for a moment, eyes wide and mouth hung agape as her mind searched through all of the things she could say, and all of the things she had seen at that table. It was the same spot every time, like most “cliques.” She sat with rambunctious boys just beneath the windows, the sun beaming down on them to highlight their wide smiles as they laughed, the world around them didn’t seem to matter, or exist at all as they basked in blissful joy in their own little bubble. They were carefree. They were happy - and hated, like her. Warnings: EDDIE MUNSON!!!! bullying, sad nancy, steve is a turd, mentions of weed Word count: 4,027 wow she long Do not repost without credit or permission

The day at Hawkin’s High had moved at a painfully slow pace despite being late. Autumn's surroundings would blend together in a colored haze as she moved on autopilot from class to class, books tightly tucked into her chest and head hung low to dodge the wandering eyes of curious and gossiping students. There was no shame to their words, spoken proudly without the cover of a hand and without a sign of sympathy in their eyes - and to the ones that did, they never said a thing. Too cowardly to take that step forward and offer out a helping hand, to ask if there was anything needed. Pity would flow through them, warm, and soft before their backs turned to face her way - her pain put in the furthest of their minds as they moved onward with their lives. Pretending they hadn’t seen piles of papers fall from her locker the first time she opened it. Each slip sneakily pushed through after her escape into the nearby woods, dark ink screaming “freak”, and “murderer” or grotesque pictures hand drawn. Autumn was just another sheep too far from the flock, a mutt banished from a pack of wolves as they stormed their way through the trees, killing, and taking what was rightfully theirs.

Just another outcast.

Comments would turn to snickering and bumps of the shoulder, whether they had been purposeful or not, she would never know or never receive an apology for, as the offender was already well on their way. And through the shoves paired with unnecessary comments that brought her back to the day before, she somehow finds herself crawling through the hours - far enough to make it to her now cleaned out locker just before lunch, a relieved sigh flowing freely to find it hadn’t been refilled the moment the door opens. Undesired books are left abandoned, keeping more personal items close in her book bag. She’s already planning a swift escape out the main doors - eating far away from the gaze of onlookers despite the chilled air that awaited her. And then, a crash.

It rattles the lockers as a force collides just next to her, hidden behind the steel and for a moment, she pictures him. Every pained beat in her chest brings a vision before her, like a flashing light - seeing a galaxy of freckles surrounding his intense stare, full of malice and hatred. Far too proud of himself to have finally cracked her hard exterior, leaving her shaken by the mere thought of him. She waits for the boy to speak, and her mind goes numb trying to find the right words to say - how to fight back the way she used to. The figure leans beyond the door, a gentle and genuine smile bringing out visible joy in the other girl - having spent all day needing someone to be there for her.

“Well, look at that,” Heather starts off, her focus moving towards the inside of the fairly boring compartment - noting the few stickers or written letters taped to the door. “So you didn’t get shipped off to boarding school.” Autumn snorts in reply, grabbing at the paper bag settled in the back before letting the locker close, sealing away her work for the following class. “That’s yet to be determined,” Autumn returns with a heavy sigh, though wearing a lazy smile as eyes dance from her form to the door just off in the distance over her shoulder. Hopper’s words are lingering in the furthest reaches of her mind, crawling forward until they become difficult to ignore. She wonders what Heather has done to earn his attention - how dark had her record become in this small town?

“Where’s your attachment?” she asks suddenly, attention shifting throughout the hallway, failing to find the sandy haired boy stumbling his way through the sea of bodies, too gentle of a boy to give them any cold remarks or spare a second glance their way. “Nowhere,” the girl replies, seemingly irritated with the question - a reminder that her one friend hadn’t bothered to make his presence known to the girl despite his car being seen on the lot. Despite all they had gone through the night prior. “I mean - I don’t know. Somewhere, I’m sure,” she finishes bitterly, slumped against the chilled door, belongings tightly secured to her form with an uneasy shift under Heather’s stare. Autumn hadn’t expected this. The two girls spent years walking through the same halls, yet only sparing polite smiles, the occasional art project that typically ended with laughter at Autumn’s misery, and a reading or two as Heather took interest in the unknown world, rather than shunning the girl for her abnormalities.

She wonders if sharing a joint is what brings people together, luring a small smile of amusement forward that’s hidden away as she looks elsewhere.

“Well,” Heather grunts, pushing herself away from the locker, slowly working her way back into the traffic of students that had lessened in the few moments of speaking - all vanishing into the cafeteria or elsewhere to enjoy their break from the monotone, underpaid teachers. Making some days seem more painful and tedious than others.

“I’ve got a spot at my table with your name on it, if you want t’come.”

The offer leaves Autumn in a state of shock for a moment, eyes wide and mouth hung agape as her mind searched through all of the things she could say, and all of the things she had seen at that table. It was the same spot every time, like most “cliques.” She sat with rambunctious boys just beneath the windows, the sun beaming down on them to highlight their wide smiles as they laughed, the world around them didn’t seem to matter, or exist at all as they basked in blissful joy in their own little bubble. They were carefree. They were happy - and hated, like her.

While they were unapologetically loud, Autumn took shelter in the quiet, never seeking out the attention despite it somehow finding her in the midst of chaos. Her and Jonathan had their own bubble, and it was soft spoken with more reserve. But he was gone, yet someone who barely knew her was extending a hand in kindness, and in friendship - so she agreed to take the seat, walking at the girl's side towards the echoing chamber of students all fighting to speak over their friends until a point is made.

“I heard about yesterday,” she spoke softly, leaning closer towards Autumn as if a secret had been kept. “I took care of it, I hope.” Immediate confusion flows through her like a river, brows knitting together as she looks in her direction, trusting as her new friend stares ahead to guide them on their short journey. “What are you talking about?” There’s a twinkle in Heather’s eye and a creeping smile just at the corner, suppressed as she pulls at the muscles of her face. “I followed him into the bathroom, and told him if he put his hands on you or another girl again, my foot was going so far up his ass he would taste the dirt on my shoe.”

Maybe what Hopper said wasn’t all that outlandish, and maybe Autumn didn’t care all that much.

The cafeteria was as it had been the day before, and any other before that - booming, filled with wild animals set loose from their cages into one just large enough to give an illusion of freedom, all while remaining trapped and still under the supervision of the keepers. It’s considered a reward for your hard work - the chance to sit with all of the other empty-headed, egotistical pieces of shit Autumn had to stare at for hours. She could almost envision them crawling and jumping across the tables, slinging their food at one another when the wire snaps. But as her eyes found a familiar face sitting in the chaotic crowd, the untamed animals seemed to come to a standstill. Steve Harrington sits, seeming almost peaceful and lost in the conversation around him until something catches his attention, a joke heard from none other than him; Tommy Hagan. Steve smiles, teeth bared and ripping through the girl's flesh until her heart is served on a silver platter, breaking through it with sharp canines without mercy. For the smallest of moments, she had wondered if he would still be sitting there with him - like what Tommy had done meant something.

But nothing had changed - except for the girl at his side. Nancy looked tired, irritated, with her mind a million miles away, visibly tuned out of the conversation despite Steve occasionally looking to her for a reaction. The look in her eyes took his joy and immediately squashed it like a bug, before he was enveloped in more stupidity from his friends.

Nancy can feel a gaze burning into her, unable to avoid its sting as she glances upwards to meet the offender's stare. It’s puzzling at first, having never spoken yet sharing a connection through the man she sits with. Autumn holds a sense of sympathy for her, because while she sees Nancy, she can’t help but also see herself in their freshman year. The agonizing pull, the separation. The realization you don’t fit into the space you thought you wanted, and watching as your world left you in the dust.

Her delicate fingers pry themselves away from the comfort of crossed arms, rising ever so gently, barely noticed by anyone other than Autumn. It was a silent conversation, a form of saying “Hey,” with a somber look of pity in her eyes.

“This way,” Heather says, pulling Autumn’s attention away from the blue eyed girl and back towards the goal at hand.

The table is full despite the remaining spots available for the taking. The personalities of the boys are already spilling outward, consuming all within reach and almost difficult to bear, making each step forward a little slower until Heather tugs her arm, laughing at her wide eyed expression. “They won’t bite.” But her words do little for comfort as all eyes land on the two of them, their heated, and passionate discussion coming to a dead halt the moment the girls stood at the head of the table. They lack a familiar spark that was once there, eyes dead and smiles now faded into thin lines as they observe the intruder in protected territory. “This is Autumn Reid, she’s sitting with us,” is her firm introduction, the tone suggesting she wouldn’t accept any comments or questions.

The teen at the opposite end stands, his wild head of hair illuminated by a halo of light. Autumn feels small under his gaze, watching as it moves over her form with intrigued - curiosity, his lips slowly turning into a smile with arms extended out to his sides. “My table is your table,” one arm is crossed behind his back, while the other mimics the position over his chest as he bends forward in an all too dramatic fashion. In the blink of an eye, she had become one of them, accepted among the “freaks”.

Autumn had sat next to Heather, picking at the lunchable and other random bits of food she had thrown into the bag in her rushed state. This hadn’t been her norm, stacking mystery meats and cheeses on top of crackers to make a bizarre, dry sandwich to choke down. She had seen many people eat these hasty snacks with joy, and yet she found none, regretting she hadn’t stayed up through the night in the kitchen if not just to make some food for school. Her slow, pickiness hadn’t gone unnoticed. Eddie, who she had come to know the name of, was watching her with care like any alpha would to a stray that wandered into his pack, observing for threats and disease to wipe out his family. But he only found amusement with her scrunched up face, her fingers dropping the bits of ham back down to the tray.

“Not suiting your fancy, ey, Reid?”

She had been singled out amongst the masses, leaving eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights as she captured his stare. “What?” “Your food,” he replies with ease, tossing his bag of pretzels down in front of him, leaving Heather to happily help herself. “You’ve been picking at that shit since you sat down,” he laughs, and suddenly, she’s embarrassed to know she’s been caught. “Oh,” she’s chewing at her cheek, feeling warmth rise in her cheeks as she wonders if she should lie, or be painfully honest with her new..acquaintances. “I love food,” she chooses the latter, watching his brow raise with interest, encouraging her to continue. “I cook for me and my dad at home. We split leftovers for work and school, but..I just haven’t had the time,” she says with a sigh, that familiar weight finding her and pressing the girl deep into the bench, crushing her as she remembers why she’s lost so much time. Yet the silence around her seems more painful, all eyes on her as some hold sympathy for understanding, and others look for more details to the story. She chooses to ignore them all, including that invisible weight as she reaches for one of the boy's trays, waving it cautiously in the air. “Now, I have to eat this shit like the rest of you.”

The table laughs, some stronger than others and she takes their joy as a sign that so far, they genuinely enjoy her company, something she would need time to adjust to. Pushing away the need to suspect everyone in the vicinity and check just over her shoulder. “So, she’s a witch that cooks,” he says with a grin, leaning back into his seat. “Do you ever cook in your cauldron?” Jeff asks, chewing at some candy bar he had stashed away, though paused abruptly when Heather throws a pretzel right between his eyes. “She doesn’t fucking have a cauldron,” she defends, arms now crossed over her chest with a relaxed posture, though eyes in a cold stare his way until they slowly begin to wander, softening apologetically. “Unless..you do?”

Autumn has heard it all, every assumption and every question with no stone left unturned, leaving everything to become mundane, boring, and in truth, irritating. To know that when wandering eyes found her walking by, they could only think of this box of stereotypes to hold her in, pretending that they knew the truth. But she couldn’t help but laugh this once, seeing the growing tension between friends before plummeting with a great sigh of relief from them all as she replies, “No, I don’t have a cauldron.” With this realization, the group tries to return to normalcy, talking about objects “witches” carry and wondering what they were used for, but failing to seek advice from Autumn, leaving her to stare in silent amusement. But Eddie seems to have other plans, leaning forward into the table with the goal of holding the newcomers attention.

“Heather said you did a Tarot reading for her awhile back,” his voice is deep and purposeful, standing out above the chatter and forcing his friends to surrender so he could speak across the table. “I - I did, yeah.” He seems intrigued, his torso leaning impossibly further forward with the support of folded arms. “She said you were pretty good.” The compliment leaves Autumn speechless, fighting for the right words to say - difficult to accept praise without stomping the words out a little first, making it easier to swallow. “I - I’ve had some practice.” He smiles before continuing. “How about palm reading?” Cautious eyes shift around the table, the attention is less focused on her - the others eating their food but still listening in on their conversation with great interest, eyes glancing their way to watch the progression. “I do palm reads, yeah.”

Suddenly, a ring clad hand falls forward - extending outward to her and laying across the table, a shit eating grin shining in the day's light. “Well? What d’you say?” She’s taken aback, looking between Heather and the offered hand - uncertain to take it before the girl at her side gives an encouraging nod, like a parent trying to nudge their frightened child out onto the playset for the first time. “It’ll cost,” she says, straightening her posture to appear more confident, even though she felt tiny within the shift in the atmosphere. “Cost?” he spews, eyes blown wide in pure disbelief and mouth hung open in shock. “You’re going to charge me after smoking my weed?” Realization hits Autumn like a brick wall, crushing her chest and leaving her dizzy from lack of oxygen, an accusatory stare lands on Heather, words built like a barricade she fought to climb over, though falling over the hurdles and surrendering to the challenge of speaking back when she noticed his cold, dead stare. He breathes hard, yet steady in an attempt to keep his cool, palms pressing against the edge of the table to separate himself from the others until suddenly, a smile breaks through. “I’m just fucking with you. What d’you want?”

He sifts through his wallet before plucking out a five dollar bill, slapping it against the table and sliding it in her direction. “Call it damage control for my friend getting you into trouble,” he says in a suggestion to the extra money. “What the fuck?” the girl says, earning a glance just out of the corner of his eye that has her sighing, returning to his abandoned bag of treats. With the money left out, his hand flips over, looking to her expectantly despite her continued aura of hesitation. Eddie was unpredictable, making things difficult for a girl like her, taking refuge in routine.

“May I?” Autumn asks, her fingers slow to reach outward, anticipating for the snake to lash out at her. But his fingers wiggle, giving approval to take hold of his hand and guide it closer - apologizing to Heather for doing this nearly over her lap. As she pulls, the cardigan slips and Eddie takes note of just how quickly she pulls it back over, his eyes only briefly catching a glimpse of what appeared to be white bandaging - and yet he says nothing, keeping this moment for only the two of them.

She angles his hand back and forth in the light, studying each line and the variations shown, sinking lower enough to see the crumbs on his palm but paying them no mind - and Eddie can’t help but feel painfully exposed, vulnerable. “D’you need glasses, or somethin’?” he asks with a nervous laugh, making her pull back with a small smile, still analyzing him just as he had asked. “I can see just fine. Some lines are harder to find - or they fade. Fate lines are typically hard to see.” His deep brown eyes cast their way to Heather who is silently watching the scene unfold, happy to see two worlds colliding. “Oh, yeah? How’s mine?” “Your line is actually really prominent, but that’s not what I was looking at,” Autumn states matter of factly, leaving his proud shoulders to slump, if only slightly. “Oh,”

“You’re right handed?” Eddie can only nod slowly, suddenly things begin to feel a little more tense as he over thinks about his lines becoming faded, and whatever the hell it meant and why he cared. “Your dominant hand shows how life has changed you, and will always be shifting.” Another painfully slow nod, feeling as though he was in a class rather than getting what he had thought was a silly reading. “This is your Head line,” she suggests and without a second to spare, the boys begin to chuckle, safe for Heather who had delivered immediate threats, and Eddie who had been glued to their entwined hands, watching as her finger roamed over his skin and the way his fingers twitched from how ticklish he had become. “It connects with your Life line, meaning you’re fairly independent,” “Fairly,” he retorts with a laugh, chin now resting in his other palm. “It has a gentle curve, telling me you’re open minded and have..a lot of hobbies. You’re focused and remember what’s important-” he scoffs at that, rolling his eyes. “I’m flunking,” is his retort. “It doesn’t have to be school. It’s what’s important to you.” At that, he stows away his bullshit, chewing at his lip before letting her continue. “This - this is your Heart line. There’s no breaks, your energy is flowing without disturbance. You seek..closeness, love. Could be anything from family, platonic or romantic,”

Her words hold a sting that burns brighter than he anticipated, letting that sting boil into an infected wound and eat him alive. Hopes and dreams all flashing before his eyes of a life he had wanted with a father that abandoned him, and a girl he held unclear feelings for as life continued to carry them through challenges. He says nothing, letting their pained silence linger as she studies his flesh. “Your Life line is unclear, see?” She points to its supposed edge above his thumb, the line less noticeable, and he wonders if this is what she was regarding and can feel his heartbeat quickening. “Uh huh,” “But stronger in the middle. This is telling me your childhood..was difficult.” Her words are soft, gentle. Speaking in such a way that she worries with the wrong tone, she may upset the balance and step into territory she wasn’t welcomed in.

He steals a heavy breath from their shared space, holding steady as Autumn’s accuracy is a little too unnerving for his taste. Heather had told him she was good, yes. But as this being their first meeting, she was reading his unfinished story proudly from cover to author's notes and credits, and he wondered if she even knew how spot on she had been. “You cherish time with your family, now. And I see chains developing downwards, decisions.. Challenges to come.”

Eddie isn’t the smartest man in all of Hawkin’s, and he isn’t the dumbest either. But he can put the pieces of a puzzle together, knowing she had been inching closer towards the end of this line, and keeping her brutal honesty in mind, his hand closes, leaving the girl in a daze. Like her trance had been broken and she was suddenly launched back into reality without a moment to steady her feet on the ground. “Well, that’s all I need to know,” he laughs, tucking his hands away as a form of protection. “Oh, come on! I want to know about death and all of that,” another boy says, while Eddie remains unamused, his mind far in another space to think over what had happened between him and the new girl at his table.

“Well, everyone dies,” she says. “It just tells me if you’re declining in health when you’re older, like most people do.”

The table practically erupts into chaos, all talking about their own experiences with who they expected to be a witch, or someone to work with voodoo. Some even asked Autumn to read them next yet she had politely declined, feeling tired and in truth, unsettled by the new energy that radiated from the man across the table. His dark eyes bore holes into the surface, his thoughts scattered and screaming so loudly he couldn’t hear the noise around him. But he could feel her eyes watching, so he met her halfway.

His fingers uncoil before tightening back into fists, tucking deep into their comforts as he crossed his arms. Not for a comfortable position, but for security. She had seen all of him through only his palm - and despite not finishing reading it all out to him, she had studied it, memorized it.

She had seen the beginning and the end of Eddie Munson.

And she keeps this secret for only the two of them.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x original character #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington slow burn #steve harington angst #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #angst

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ask-void-official · 1 year

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Happy New Years!

Oh, hi! Well, uh... ahem. As you probably know, I, er... haven't updated Ask Void since, what, before Halloween?? Awkward, I know. Deepest apologies for that.

Now, don't worry, I didn't abandon Ask Void due to any sudden distaste for my short sad skeleton scientist, nor is Void's story getting completely left in the dust; I love my small skelly boi too much for that.

No, the real reason you haven't seen anything of Void is because I realized one autumn evening as I was pacing the living room holding a mug of apple cider and contemplating sowing the seeds of destruction and chaos onto this mortal plane that I realized that an ask blog isn't exactly the medium I want to utilize to tell my Void-boi's story; an ask blog is a medium that simply far too much whimsy and slice-of-life built into it to tell the story of someone with so much plot and character development potential like my depressed Void.

Void needs something that can really convey that 'Void' feel, and something I won't feel bad for breaking away from the happy fun times 'let's mess with Void' hours to suddenly go 'Oh but wait he has trauma actually'.

I don't regret making the ask blog though, it really helped me hone my character for Void, and I absolutely adored drawing the comics and writing for him. Oh, and don't worry, Ask Void will still be here! I'll basically be archiving it and effectively putting it aside in the pantry, which you can always look in to reminisce! And of course, we'll be addressing the asks ya'll sent in during my exceedingly unannounced hiatus (Again, sorry about that)

For everybody who wanted to know what was inside the house:

The GUAAHSTER GAENGGG set up a lovely chandelier in his house to help with the gloomy lighting! Void definitely probably appreciates it.

For that one lovely person who gave Void glasses that don't need tape:

Ok, he really appreciates these. Thank you!

For that one person who sent that ask likely intended for when Void was in Waterfall saying he seemed rather 'down in the dumps':

He appreciates that too; I wonder how long it's been since Void dusted off the old 'sense of humor'?

While the Ask Void universe may be set aside, there is still something that remains of it, and that would be the liminal space in between our reality and that of the Multiverse, where all of our ideas are in that incubatory stage of 'not quite there yet', and where our lovely Liminal!Void and Strawberry!Void live, as well as a reflection of myself. Their ask box isn't going anywhere, so feel free to still send asks to them if you wish; and of course, you may send asks about anything else in general that you want, from the smallest "avocado?" to the largest "What is the meaning of life?"

So, I imagine you're wondering; what is going to happen to Void's story, then, if it won't be told in an ask blog? Well... I'm still figuring it out, but you're all overdue for a solid answer.

Me and a few friends, including but not limited to my friend @emikaat, are figuring out how it'll be told, but I'm at least 90% certain that I think I'm going to write it in a book; I was contemplating a comic for a little bit, but hoo boy, that would be so much effort and commitment. I mean, I love Void, but I don't think I'm going to turn him into a lifelong career, you know?

So I think the best way to go about it would be to write a book for it and then go through my hyperfixation-addled Void drawing cravings separately. I'll figure it out, don't you worry.

Now, I'd just like to take a moment to get sappy and sentimental and say thank you to all of you who stuck around this long for my silly little ask blog for my extra-little skeleton. I really appreciate it, and Void couldn't get as far as he has without you. If you stick around just a little longer, I'm sure we're going to get to places even more exciting! And in the meantime, have this lovely peek at what the idea making process for Void's story looks like...

Luckily, this only shows the ominous conspiracy board and not the mess of crumpled papers, candy bars, and the exasperated artist on the floor contemplating existence

#ask void #void #void!sci #text #announcement #culty catt

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handelplayssims · 8 months

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Freddie is awake at 2AM! Sleep schedule is officially screwed! He wants to...have a drink at the bar and have some nectar. Both things we can do at a local bar! Let’s go! Next is to dance to stereo music, both at bar and for aspiration. There is some electronica music playing in the background so let’s do that. (And plan for our next party, which is introducing ourself to some teens! Sidney, Pierce and Olivia! And so we do that, head on over to those homes and chat them up! With that the Spooky Party all set up for Sunday!

Let’s see. Freddie’s two whims are to stargaze with Mitchell, bit late and also too cloudy and to buy a bar...which we have. Leveling up Mixology it is then! Autumn is done with her nap and came down to ate. Freddie actually asked her what’s up and consoled her about her friend’s death. Got rid of his hurt sentiment with her but still has a festering grudge. That got her sad moodlet down and they’re back to being great friends. Aww. Freddie’s up to 5 mixology and Autumn just got a phone call prepping for Prom. Let’s do it! Maybe this’ll also help clear Sidney being her prom date? We’re at Ash’s house and I invited some of my own friends so there are a LOT of teens around. And they vanished not long after. Ah well. I’ll just hang out until it’s time for Prom.

PROM ROUND 2! No one I recognize is there! After dancing and drinking (punch), we chat up Sofia Bjgersen, including about our side hustles. Well managed to nab a silver. That award ceremony really messes with getting goals done. And since Sidney is not there, I am not going to worry about Prom! Autumn’s going to bed and Freddie...is fully rested. ON YOUR SLEEP SCHEDULE BE IT FREDDIE! Now’s an okay time to stargaze at least. Let’s see if the stars are clear at Oasis Springs. Partially cloudy. Close enough! Let’s gaze at those stars! And now for the customary house visit massages. 3AM, let’s head home. Pretty certain everyone’s gonna head to bed anyway.

Neighborhood Watch

Copperdale: The Bermudedz household moved out.

Leinani Ka’ana’ana in the Ka’ana’ana household has died. Leinani stuck a finger in a plug and electricity came out.

Brian McLeod in the McLeod household has died. Brian tried to make cereal but it burst into flames.

RIP Karely Henley’s boyfriend!

So checking Autumn’s days until ageing up and...67 days! We only got two days left! ...uploading her photo booth picture and SHE HAS A 11 THOUSAND FOLLOWERS ALREADY!? Note to self, keep Social Bunny in mind for Social Media career folks. Or perhaps it’s being an Influencer. Next whim for Freddie is to meet someone new and eh. TO BED.

Prank Day! Freddie’s neutral and Autumn has a hot-head hates it! Easily ignored then! Freddie wants to...purchase a new computer. If you want that, you need the money for it. So let’s go to a park and do some yoga instructing. Not park but local cafe! It’ll do! There’s loads of greenery behind it! I had him chat with Akila Kahananui afterwards, since he actually did the yoga decently enough. Rare for a random sim to do that! Ohp, wasn’t going to add him to Social Bunny contacts but he’s a snob. Let’s do it! Freddie needs a bite to eat so let’s nab something from the cafe. ...I live in the UK and you know what, the cafes have much better selection of treats than what the Sims gives us! Flippe Lucina dropped by and asked to be best friends...and I forgot he was that DJ friend! Would have become friends if I had remembered. Alas! Anyway, time to head home. We got a party in 2 hours!

Autumn’s whim is try to rile up someone and...chat with her crush Manami. I’m going to attempt to get over her crushes of Manami and Brendan. She knows they aren’t good for her! Brendan cleared off but Manami...not so much! Oh boy! I’ll shoot a mean message over social bunny and then perhaps after the party, if she has the energy for it...we can meet to -ahem- discuss things… Anyway, time to flaff about things until the party starts!

Ash, I expect better fashion from you. This is going STRAIGHT onto social media where you shall be viciously mocked. Hmm. I was going to go all the way to disliked but Autumn feels really bad about losing Ash as a friend. Welp. Anyway, in terms of goals for this Spooky party, we have food, discuss costumes and make mischief and then, uh, look at carved pumpkins. The pumpkins I ignored. Welp. Let’s see. Autumn needs to sleep but Freddie still has some energy. What are his whims? Still to purchase a computer and to bro hug a bro. MAN. There were bros at that party! You can’t just drop by a bro’s place after partying with a bro! Not done! Maybe. What to make money then...taking over a spot at the local bar would be good! We only managed to get one drink in before bills rolled in. 7 thousand! We’re lowering the cost somehow! Anyway time to head home and cheat some money in.

Neighborhood Watch!

Strangerville: The Yamaguchi household has moved in.

Last day! Last day! It’s also Explosion Day! Freddie doesn’t care too much for the holiday but Autumn’s all about the fire burning, fireworks, and airing grievances. ...uh oh. Her brother better watch out. Anyway, we went to school on Friday so we’re staying back at home today. Even if Freddie sleeps through the school day.

Annnd Demetrius Pryor dropped by while Freddie was asleep to ask to be best friends. If only he wasn’t asleep, I would have done so but since he is doing it while asleep, NO. That’s creepy! Anyway, Freddie’s listening to Carnival Music during breakfast counted for the Art and Music! Good for him. Next whim is to bro-hug a bro and be mischevious to J. Welp! Sure. Why not? Autumn’s back from school. Absolutely selling the school project. We are NOT getting that done.

She’s absolutely exhausted after school so let’s get some sleep. I had plans anyway for her and her fellow teen friends to hang out at the sketchy place. Another whim for Freddie to spend money so let’s make some instead. Lets tend the massage table for J. ...why does it always cancel mid-massage and I have to give one myself. Bah. Anyway, next thing’s next his...a whim to cook. Might as well. And we’ll light some fireworks. Hmm. Still not enough for a good holiday. Gift of fire it is then! And we’ll roast some hotdogs while we’re at it.

Ohp, Autumn is up! Man, I was going to go to the sketchy park and invite some teens to a bonfire and fireworks thing but noooooo! Also she has her job and it involves a tech review today. Anyway, I had her join the bonfire and then shoot off some fireworks before uploading that technology review. And now she just wants to listen to some tunes. Welp, might as well. Last thing I’ll do with her...other than dramatically cry about everything. She is ultra sad after all. Wait, Freddie did advise to jog to clear her head. That will be the last thing to do then!

Nothing in Neighborhood Watch.

Welp, that’s that! Join us next time for when we visit the...wow I rolled a 1, you don’t see that every- …

We’re heading back to the Nier Automata household. See you all then.

#sims 4 #blogging #bougie duo #freddie hatton #autumn ziggler #ash harjo

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

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shadowsinger90 · 2 years

Text

Part 2

I know I dropped off the face of the earth for awhile but I’m back :)

This is a part two and I was gonna do smut but I wanted some angst. Like a lot of angst. And grovelling.

Please note that I like to do very vague descriptions of you. I like to try to be as inclusive as possible! I don’t like to decided what you wear or how long your hair is so I leave it completely up to you!

Please enjoy! Hope you all are doing well.

It had been a few weeks since the Autumn court disaster. You and Azriel avoided one another like the plague. Rhysand bless his heart, tried to get you two to at least talk by sending you away to one of the war camps.

Big mistake.

Horrendous mistake.

The two of you did not utter a word to one another the entire time you were away. The camps always did this to Azriel so, that was Rhys fault and only his. The only thing you two would do together was avoid the each other’s gazes but once either one of you was caught looking it turned into a glare relatively fast. This went on for months until it all came to a head during a family dinner.

It was the first little Nyx’s successfully flew. Everyone came to celebrate his big accomplishment. He was still a little wobbly with his flight but didn’t need Rhysand holding his hand. Both parents were incredibly proud of their son. So they invited the entire family over. You were going to reply ‘no’ to avoid Azriel, until Feyre yelled at you to not be a child. You reluctantly agreed. Knowing Mor would most likely want to go to Rita’s afterward you dressed nice. Nothing too over the top but nothing too casual. It was perfect the dress, hair, and makeup were done to the nines.

You looked hot.

You felt hot.

You knew that you would catch a certain males attention. You knew he would want you, and god did that ever feel good. You finished fixing you hair until you heard Mor enter your house.

“Cauldron boil me girl!” Mor squealed. “You look incredible.”

“I assumed you were going to drag me to Rita’s after dinner.” You smiled blushing at her compliments.

“You assumed correct, I’ve barely seen you the past month.”

“It’s a date.” You grinned at her.

Grinning back at you, “are you ready to go?” She asked. Giving her a playful bow “after you.” She snorted loudly before grabbing your arm and winnowing to Feyre and Rhysand’s house.

Both of you landed in their living room. Everyone was there. Armen, Varian, Elaine, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, and of course the man of the hour Nyx. The little boy was plopped on Rhysands lap, once you saw you and Mor arrive he quickly shimmed of his lap and ran towards you and Mor.

“Auntie!” He yelled barreling towards you and Mor. She crouched down opening her arms out waiting for him to crash into her arms. With a big mischievous grin on his face he turned at the last second and ran towards you.

“Up! Auntie up!” He cried making grabby hands at you. You smiled and picked up the boy. Mor let out a huge scoff and crossed her arms. “Little shit” she mumbled to herself, which everyone heard causing Cassian to bellow out a laugh.

“Auntie pretty.” Nyx said while pulling on your hair. Your face flushed beet red while Rhysand scolded Nyx “c’mon Nyx no hair pulling.” He said in a very parental tone. His son let out a huff and turned his head facing away from him. Letting out fake cries and sniffles you couldn’t help but coo. “Is your dad being a meanie?” Nyx took a moment to respond with a small nod. Rhysand let out a very loud scoff. “I think you hurt your dads feelings Nyx.” You said turning your head so you looking at him. “I think he’s very sad now.” You said in a very sympathetic tone.

“No! No! No sad daddy.” Nyx began wiggling out of your arms reading to make amends to his dad. Once you put him down he ran towards Rhys with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry daddy.” Rhysand seemed to go into his mind briefly once he was finished you could her the giggle that erupted from him you knew trouble was coming.

You had sat next to Nesta on the couch. She promptly had given you a glass of wine. The two of you began conversing about the newest romance novel she had just read. “You always have the best recommendations.” She smiled at you “I’ve spent a lot of time reading in that library so I know a thing or two.” You gave her a small smile. “I was going to ask you what happened between you…” Nesta was cut off by Feyre annocuning dinner was served. You got up relatively quick as the rest of the inner circle sat at the table.

You knew your friends were plotting. Azriel sat right in front of you. You met his gaze briefly before both of you quickly looked away. Mor made eye contact with Rhys as if they are were having a private conversation.

Everyone piled there plates and began to eat. Conversation flowed as the sounds of cutlery clinking filled the dining room.

“So (Y/n), I haven’t see you with Byron lately what is going on with that?” Elain asked innocently. You bit back the scoff.

“If you must know we broke up months ago.” She faked an innocent gasp. Mor frowned everyone knew you and Byron had broken up. She was just trying to rub salt in the wound. You gritted your teeth and stared forward. The room became oddly quiet.

“Well, I mean I just thought it was quite strange since you’ve been hanging around Azriel if maybe..” Elain trialled of

“Maybe what?” You said with a small snarl.

“Maybe you fancied Azriel and didn’t have the guts to break it off with Byron and you two hooked up on your last trip to the autumn court!” She accused and Feyre gasped.

You could hear a pin drop. Nobody dared to utter a word. Azriel stared at you. Not knowing what you were going to say. You slowly turned your head to look at her.

“I think it’s rather ironic, you know? You sit here accusing me of cheating on my ex-boyfriend when you haven’t even decided if Lucien is going to be your mate because you are panting after Azriel and can’t decided. Making both males compete for your attention. Funny how you seem you seem to love to air out my dirty laundry without a care.” She glared and open her mouth to say something more to further humiliate you. Until Azriel spoke up.

“Don’t speak to her like that.” He growled out. You were baffled. You have known Azriel for hundreds of years. Yet he was defending her. Even Cassian looked shocked.

“Excuse me did you not hear her talking bad about me? Am I not allowed to speak my opinion?” You sneered at him. Your attention now solely on him for the first time in months.

Azriel bit back a sneer. Rage simmering beneath his eyes. “For Cauldrons sake (Y/n) you don’t need to always say something.” You jaw almost dropped. But as quickly as you stopped that a sharp retort was on the tip of your tongue.

“Better than saying nothing at all.” You snarled.

“I barely talk but I can still keep my partner around. Yours run for the hills the moment you open your fat mouth.” He snarled you were floored but he didn’t stop. “I can’t believe we almost hooked up. The one time i was excited to see Eris. I would never sleep with a whore like you. You dry humping my leg like a virgin how ironic.” He spat but a satisfied smirk was on his lips. That smirk was quick to fall when he actually looked at your face closely.

His words slammed into you. Tears welled in your eyes the fury disappearing quickly. You couldn’t meet his angered gazed. Rhysand was about to say something. Until you interrupted him. Your month was dry as your tried to hold back the tears. “I-I’ll be excused.” You stuttered out. “Thank you for dinner Feyre.” You said before leaving the table and quickly rushed out the door. Slamming it behind you.

Fury burned in Mor’s eyes and she glowered at Azriel. “Well then.” She started “I guess we know how Azriel feels and who he picks.” Glaring at Azriel she stood up. Pushing away from the table. She left to grab her coat to go after you. She opened her month not even looking towards Azriel even though she was speaking to him. “You should be ashamed Azriel. Ashamed.” She then opened the door and walked out slamming harshly behind her.

Elain looked prideful, Cassian looked pissed, Armen also pissed, Rhysand looked disappointed, Nesta kept playing with her food feeling incredible awkward, Lucien had his jaw clenched as he started ahead, Nyx’s cries were being shushed by Feyre who looked both pissed and disappointed. She wouldn’t look at her sister or Azriel. Wordlessly she went up stairs to get away from everyone. Rhysand followed her. Slowly everyone was about to leave. Lucien went for his coat when Elain stopped him, pulling his arm. He ripped his arm away. “Lucien won’t you stay for dessert?” He said with a pout. Disgusted by her behaviour.

“No, I’ll be helping Mor trying to fix your mistake.” He said with no emotion. Pulling on his coat he finally pulled away and left the house. Cassian, Nesta, Azriel and Elain were left. Armen and Varian left shortly after Lucien did.

“Was that really necessary? For a man who’s been alive for 500 years you would think you would have better experience with women.” Cassian said poking Azriel in the chest.

Nesta spoke up for the first time. “This has nothing to do with women skills he just ripped her apart and you did nothing about it!” She spat at Cassian.

“Oh and you’re so innocent aren’t you? You barely said anything either!” Cassian retaliated. “Yet you yell at him and not your sister for bringing up her ex!” Nesta only huffed and crossed her arms. Not wanting to fight further she grabbed her coat signalling she wanted to leave. Not wanting to continue fighting infringe of Azriel and Elain. Cassian sighed his shoulders sagging as he patted Azriel on his shoulder. “You better fix this.” He said shortly before walking out the door. The room was silent. Azriel and Elain were left. Neither of them could look at each other. Maybe they had taken it too far. Guilt slammed into him. He quickly made to leave. Elain didn’t stop him.

Bursting from the front door Azriel took to the skies. Normally flying took the stress away from Azriel but now, his sole focus was finding you and apologizing. He spotted Cassian flying from the house of wind, scowl painted on his face. He didn’t need to know what they fought about. Rhysand took to the skies shortly after Cassian did. The three brothers patrolled the sky scanning the ground for any sign of you. He spotted Mor on the left side of town, jogging down calling your name. Lucien ran on the right side, also calling your name. His shadows were racing down the streets and alleyways, but alas they also found nothing.

They searched for hours, slowly they all met in the centre of town. Everyone looked stressed and distraught. Mor had tears brewing in her eyes. She marched to Azriel and pushed a pointed finger in his chest. Roughly poking him she cried, “this is all your fault! Why did you say the cruel things about her!”

Azriel stared at her, his mouth opening and closing but no sound came out.

“Well? Are you proud?” Lucien seemed to snarl at him.

Mor opened her mouth and was about to yell at Azriel some more when he snapped again.

“You want to know why I said those awful things? Well fine! The reason why is because I love her I love her so much it physically hurts. She doesn’t deserve a hot mess like me she deserve someone who won’t drag her down! Someone who doesn’t have this extra baggage. I thought if I make her hate me she’ll be better off.”

His brothers jaws dropped a bit. That he finally admitted his feelings. Maybe not in the best way but finally after so many years of longing stares.

Mor let out a scoff. “I swear you two are the most oblivious people I have ever met.” Azriel gave her a look and she let out a exasperated sigh.

“For Cauldrons sake! She’s been in love with you for centuries but she’s saw you try and go after me and Elaine never said anything because she always put your feelings first! She always has. You’ve had your head up your ass for 500 years!” She panted by the end of it, before she slapped her hand across mouth and let out a squeak. Rhysand and Cassian stared at Azriel who had his mouth gapping.

“She loves me?” She questioned and Mor looked away. Feeling horrible for almost screaming out your secrets.

Azriel’s cheeks flushed, he was about to open his mouth to say something negative when Rhysand finally spoke up.

“You better not say anything negative, she’s knows you Azriel if she didn’t want you she wouldn’t have had feelings for you.” Rhysand said crossing his arms.

“Oh mother I have to apologize.” Azriel ran his fingers through his hair.”

“You’ll have to wait until she comes to you unfortunately.” Cassian muttered.

“Why’s that?” Lucien whipped his head to him.

“(Y/n) is one of the best spies in all of Prythian. If she doesn’t want to be found she won’t be found.” Everyone nodded in agreement. Mor wiped under her eyes and Cassian wrapped his arm around her and started to walk away. Everyone dispersed back home, agreeing to look in the morning. Azriel was the last person left in the town square. He sat down on the fountain that sat in the middle. Velaris was beautiful at night, but he felt so empty. He felt horrible for saying all those awful things. Seeing your teary eyes made him sick. He looked to the sky, tears pricked his eyes, he let out a stuttering gasp, then an agonizing scream. He dropped from the fountain and fell to his knees clutching his arms as he let some tears fall. He didn’t move until dawn rose over the horizon.

Days had past and you hadn’t returned. Mor didn’t stop searching until she exhausted herself, until Rhysand made her take a nap. Azriel had left at dawn and retuned late at night still searching. He became and irritable mess. As each day passed the guilt ate at him. He barely ate, slept, or talked. He barely paid king to his family so let focused on bringing you home. He was searching everywhere until a letter was dropped on the kitchen table. It was addressed to Mor.

Dear Mor,

I am so sorry I haven’t written to you. I am writing you to assure you I am safe. My only request is please stop looking for me. I love you Mor, but I cannot come back yet. That wound hasn’t healed and will take a very long time too. I will come back when I am ready until then please do not worry about me.

Love (Y/n)

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel #acosf fanfiction

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance! younghoon had to do something for his late bday because i adore him others: juyeon

the disappointed look jacob gives you as he pulls into the parking lot beside your school is that of a parent, deflated with the rowdy actions of their only child

you hold your physics textbook in your lap in the passenger seat and try to smile at him as some sort of compensation

kevin chuckles from the backseat

"can't believe you're stuck in summer school the year before you graduate."

"shutup kevin the only reason you passed physics is because jacob lives down the street from you and let you copy all his old notes. otherwise, you'd be in there with me."

kevin shrugs and motions for you to get out of the car, you stick your tongue out and thank jacob for the ride

"waterparks gonna suck without you."

he says before he rolls up the window

you groan and mutter a "don't remind me about the waterpark dude" before turning to head inside

the room is barely air-conditioned and your summer physics teacher is some old lady who tells you all to read for the next hour and do the exercises on page one hundred and three

she then puts on an ancient pair of headphones and seemingly tunes you and the other summer school students out indefinitely

she doesn't even notice when the door opens half an hour later and in the frame is the tall, almost infuriatingly handsome figure of kim younghoon

you blink back in surprise - i thought he was a pretty good student?

younghoon notices you too, smiling as he passes your desk to sit in the one behind you

you look down at your textbook and suddenly don't know the weird feeling that washes you over

the room is pretty empty, he could sit anywhere else....

five minutes later, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder

you turn and younghoon smiles again - his teeth are blindingly white and he doesn't have one acne scar on his pretty face

"do you know if the teacher took attendance?"

you shake your head, "she's basically been comatose since i got here."

he chuckles softly enough that just the two of you hear it

"got it. so we'll just be sitting here in silence for two hours?"

"looks like it."

he takes a pause and looks at you as if he has something else to ask, but it doesn't come out

the first day then drags its feet until finally it's over and you drop your worksheet off on the desk

the teacher mutters that the homework for tomorrow is the next chapter and you give the fakest smile you can muster before trying to beeline for the door

before you can leave though, younghoon calls out your name and you turn to see him standing in the empty hallway

"if i need help with the homework - can i text you?"

you reluctantly make your way back toward him, you take your phone out and hand it to him

"sure, add yourself to my contacts. god this summer is gonna be so boring."

younghoon takes a moment before handing you back your phone, he nods in agreement

"at least we'll suffer together."

you don't think much of it when he says it - actually you don't think about it at all

the only reason it finds its way back into your head is because later that night your phone vibrates and it says you have a text from 'hoon [seven different flower emojis]'

younghoon?

you open it and see that's a long message whining about the confusing chapter you were assigned. you giggle because you've been whining to yourself while reading it too

but as you start to type out a reply you wonder.........

'at least we'll suffer together'.........we barely even know each other? is it really normal to say that - what about being together with a stranger makes summer school of all things better?

your hand hovers over the send button - you close your phone instead and go back to reading, forgetting about the text and falling over yourself in physics terms you should have remembered when you first were taking the class

the next morning, jacob doesn't drive you to school - you walk there and bump into younghoon whose on his way over too

he somehow manages to look tall and unaffected by the sweltering heat

he waves at you with another one of those priceless smiles

"did you do the homework?"

he asks as you fall into step with each other

"barely - i had to look at cobi's old notes."

"cobi?" younghoon tilts his head and you explain that it's a nickname for jacob

something on younghoon's face is confusing, it's like there's a twinge of sadness but you assume it's just a reflex squint to the glowing sun

"you didn't text me back - so i thought you might have given up on it!"

he laughs slightly and you clasp your hand over your mouth

"oh right! sorry - i must have spaced out and didn't hit send. but i totally agree - fluid mechanics could put anyone to sleep."

before you realize it you and younghoon are in the classroom again, sitting in the same seats

you're early so the teacher isn't there yet and younghoon flips to a page from the chapter to ask you if you know what its talking about

you explain what you think it means (from the information you got from jacob's old notes)

and the entire time you're maybe inches away from each other

when you aren't actively thinking about it, it's fine - but then your hands brush and suddenly it dawns on you and you sit back in your seat suddenly

younghoon senses the shift and opens his mouth to say something when the door swings open and a monotone voice tells you to open up to page one hundred and fifty-seven

like what younghoon said and his text, you soon forget about the momentary skinship

your brain starts to melt of boredom as the class drags on and you get past a note from younghoon when the teacher isn't looking

'do you know the answer for problem #3?'

'it's 23.56 m/s'

'woah you're so smart'

'more like the person who used this textbook before me wrote the equation on the page'

'lucky - let's trade textbooks?'

'in your dreams :P'

another long day comes to an end and you wave a goodbye to younghoon, he smiles and waves back and adds a - "reply to my text this time, ok?"

you nod and only again do you think about what he says when you're home and thinking straight under the graciousness of your AC

does that mean he's going to text me?

and like yesterday, younghoon does text you complaining about the reading

you answer and a conversation that comes almost way too easily starts

this cycle starts anew the next day, and the day after that, until at some point you realize you are forming a sort of summer friendship with kim younghoon

and that's normal - that's fine

but there are moments where you look up at him when you're paired together for a makeshift lab or when you've agreed to stay behind some extra hours to study

that you see younghoon in all this detail up close and he's undeniably handsome but also you see something more

for all the years you've been in the same school together, passed each other at parties, probably even stood together at assemblies

you've taken him at complete face value. perfect proportions, always someones crush, the pretty and popular boy who somehow hasn't added complete selfish jerk to that title as well

he's just - kim younghoon - untouchable, out of anyone's league

and now he's more real.

you see the mole on his neck, the way his eyes crinkle when he finds something really funny, the pickiness of his eating habits and how he can't hold a pen properly with his left hand.

they're things that make him human and they're things that you can't help but notice because like anyone, you are instantly attracted to younghoon

it's just crazy that beyond that face there's a boy who you could easily see yourself falling for

of course, you end the thoughts right there.

even though sometimes, you get a weird kind of feeling that younghoon is noticing something about you too.

it really starts to eat at you after you guys are at the halfway point of summer classes - and you have your first test.

you're both panicking about it, because if you don't pass this one - you probably won't pass the final - which means physics again when autumn comes around

so you and younghoon have been spending a lot of time in the library after class with your textbooks, snacks, and jacob's old notes

of course you're both grinding, but distractions happen and you end up taking a break to toss candy into his mouth and doodle cartoons of your boring teacher in the margins of your notes

giggling like maniacs over the inside jokes about class and school you've both come up with, getting scolded by the ancient librarian if you're just a little too loud about it

and then younghoon asks you: "do you have plans after the test?"

you huff and cross your arms

"yeah, to go home and curl up on my bed and forget it ever happened."

he chuckles, puts his hand on his neck and then pauses - what you think is a light pinkness starts to dust his skin

"same, but if you want instead i though-"

your phone goes off just as the words string together - you pick it up and try to wave an apology to the librarian who rolls her eyes at you

with a whisper you turn your head to answer

"what? jacob? what - no i don't know where kevin is i thought he'd be with you."

younghoon's lips thin out and you barely react as you duck under the table you're studying at to keep your voice low

you finish the call and come back up with a sigh

"what were you saying by the way?"

younghoon shakes his head

"nothing, is kevin ok?"

you get back in your seat and you don't want to comment on the weird thin blanket of tension that seems to undertone the question

"he's fine, jacob will find him over at eric's or something."

you look at younghoon and he doesn't return your gaze, he's pushed his chair in closer to the table and picked up his pen

you do the same and try to break whatever this weirdness is

"should we go over chapter five again?"

that moment replays in your head for almost a week straight, it almost distracts you during the test but thankfully you and younghoon both pass

you flaunt your 84 versus his 82 but the happiness of it seems to wash away any excess awkwardness from before

at least for him, for you - you somehow can't stop analyzing it in your head

to make matters worse, more pocket-sized interactions like this start to pop up

younghoon is always seemingly on the verge of asking you to hang out with him outside of class but he never really does

something always stops him

and you kind of start to wish he just would, or if the question that's always on the tip of his tongue isn't that - then you really want to know what it is

you overthink and it frustrates you more than you admit, but at the same time younghoon had been right when summer started

the fact that you have each other to suffer together actually doesn't make this whole thing worse than it originally was going to be

the only reason you're having a tolerable summer is because of him

you don't want to ruin it by prying him with questions

wanting to know if he wants something more than just a physics class-based friendship

because it gets to a point where you don't know what to do, you ask your best friends

when you explain that you and younghoon just click - and it seems like he might want to be around you more, the way you want to be around him -

jacob and kevin give you the same look

jaocb's just nicer when he says "why don't you ask him to hang out first?"

while kevin just laughs and calls you a big dummy - popular pretty boy or not, that's crushing behavior you're describing

you think about it

what's stopping me from asking him first? seriously - am i going to be that person who needs to wait around for prince charming to pull the first move?

so you decide you will, it takes jacob giving you a pep talk before you go into class the next day but you are resiliant

and when younghoon comes through the door - you stand up

"oh, a standing ovation did i do something right?"

he jokes and you have to tell yourself not to focus on how cute he is and get straight to the point

"do you want to hang out after class?"

younghoon's bag drops from his hands and you both kind of startle at the noise

oh shit. here it comes. the big 'oh i hope you don't think this is something more than it is....' line

"oh - i - sure, i mean i saw jacob's car in the parking lot is he not gonna pick you up later?"

you blink in confusion

"no, why would jacob come pick me up?"

younghoon and you have a moment of complete silence and then

"you're dating him, right?"

you're pretty sure you let out a sound that's a mixture of a little yell and an attempt at a laugh

it's embarrassing and before you can backtrack it, the door opens and the teacher snaps her fingers for you and younghoon to sit

as you do - you realize your entire body has gone kind of numb

is that the reason he's been dancing around me this summer, because of jacob?!?!?!

you turn before the teacher can even write the pages to work on on the board

"no!"

you exclaim and younghoon blinks those big, brown pretty eyes at you

"i am definitely not dating jacob bae!"

a sense of relief seems to wash over his face, but you can't even enjoy the way he looks happy because the teacher clears her throat

"the matter of who you are or are not dating is not the topic of this class - physics is. so pay. attention."

you nod, looking down at your textbook as the other students snicker to themselves

halfway through the class younghoon passes you a note

'how about we go see a movie or something?'

your first date goes well.

actually it goes really really well because it turns out younghoon is scared of horror movies and you're not and when he nearly jumps into your arms with fear you just laugh and hold him close

by the time it ends he's got his head completely in your neck and you have your arms wrapped around his waist

it's actually insane how comfortable you two are with touching each other despite the fact that all of summer you would knock knees and it would set both of you into a state of petrification

and when you text your gc after, jacob sends a thousand loving emojis

and kevin replies with: but is he a good kisser tho?

turns out he is, although he kisses with a shyness that is unexpected considering how loud and fun he can get around you

he lets you take the lead, which is nice, and when you kiss him right on the jawline he inhales sharply and you figure out the part of kim younghoon that gets him all worked up

a secret you're sure the rest of the student body will be jealous of you for knowing

the summer goes from tolerable to magical in the snap of a second

your classes finish, you and younghoon both pass the final and celebrate with ice-cream and a trip to the amusement park

you end up on the ferris wheel and younghoon sheepishly admits he had always been a little sad thinking about how you were doing these fun things with jacob and not with him

and you scrunch your nose up and tell him the last time you and jacob were on a ferris wheel together you were comforting kevin for his random fear of heights

speaking of moonbae, they both really like you and younghoon together

jacob thinks he's a mannered young man and kevin is just like soooooo you're nice enough to put up with them (you) you must be a saint

the four of you finally get to go to that water park you missed out on in the beginning and while you and younghoon are holding hands on the lazy river sharing little cute kisses

kevin is splashing jacob to a point where the lifeguard on duty has to intervene

younghoon still sometimes dances around what he actually wants to say or do - and so you coax it out of him with the threat of complimenting him

which you learn is your greatest weapon, you call him pretty and it's practically game over

but seriously he just tucks you into his arms and mumbles something and you're like hmmm and he's like mumbling and you're like younghoon words or i will list the top five things i like about you and he's like

"oK i just wanted to ask if you wanted to stay over........."

you do :) and when you take the liberty of stealing a big flannel of his younghoon hides his face in his hands for like ten minutes straight

before autumn finally comes around for good - you and younghoon talk about how you both flunked physics

you explain that you just did not put the effort in at all and skipped more times than you could count, but younghoon just says he thinks he just messed up pretty bad on the final

"why did you do bad on the final?"

he looks away and you scoot closer, "younghoon?"

"well remember how we all took the final with our seats switched ..... the teacher put me next to you and it was distracting...."

"no way - are you saying im the reason you were in summer school?!?!"

you sit up and younghoon does too with a laugh

"maybe - but it was worth it. i got to spend a whole summer with you."

years down the line you still bring the story up as a fun meet-cute

everyone thinks younghoon is 100% joking, there's no way he failed a final because he was sitting next to his crush

but younghoon swears it's the reason why - he's sure if he could find his original test paper he could show everyone that where he was supposed to have written out the equation he just wrote your name down ten times

jacob accuses him one day for flunking it on purpose since he probably knew you were going to end up in summer school

you turn to your fiancee and ask him is that true, did he really fail it on purpose to spend more time with you?

younghoon's ears turn pink and the whole room erupts into laughter

"younghoon, why would you do that!"

you push him gently, your hand on his chest with the glittering band he gifted you

he shrugs back with a big smile

"i really really really liked you - and hey, it worked out didn't it?"

#listen to me. writing about him is like making me walk through fire i like him so much #younghoon au #younghoon scenarios #younghoon imagines #younghoon #the boyz #the boyz au #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz au #tbz #sfw #nostalgia au #kim younghoon #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Fred Weasley oneshot with the promts "you don't love him", and "love is supposed to be good". Thanks 😊

GOOD, PURE, AND BEAUTIFUL

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k (about 1000 words my ass) SUMMARY: The Leaky Cauldron serves as a sanctuary to drink your problems away for the night but a certain ginger always seems to find his way to you. Possible part 2? A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had to rewrite the hold dang thing and I know I said I would write around 1000 words but looks like i can’t help but be long-winded. WARNINGS: Angst. Mentions of getting drunk. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

You find solace in the pint of butterbeer, sitting at a table for two, tucked by the corner and under the archways of the Leaky Cauldron. The passing wizards in sleek venerable trench coats and witches with an odd taste in hats only act as an activity of sightseeing in keeping yourself awake, hypothesizing strangers’ lives and whether they might have gnomes lurking in their gardens or have gardens in the first place.

You are drawn to the drifting scent of butterscotch—the tankard of butterbeer sits glumly in your grasp as it has lost all its foam. You take a sip, more of a gulp, feeling the gas building up in your abdomen, and the sweetness to it almost feels sickening at this point.

Belly full yet feeling extremely empty.

The days leading up to you, being here at the Leaky Cauldron, and playing the part of the drunken witch very well weren't exactly pleasant. Flourish and Blotts seem to lose its shine in fulfilling your love for books and organization with every passing day and your relationship with the boy you met and fell madly in love with during your sixth year don’t seem to hold the same spark as before. Walter was a Ravenclaw—handsome, diligent, and incredibly smart. You and him dating had been an on-and-off situation because the one thing you two share in common is the lack of decisiveness.

Today, tonight, you and Walter are finally resolute. The true end where second, third, or fourth chances will never cease to exist from now on. With the new offer for a job in America, you and he both know drifting apart seems to be the only reasonable solution to the whole mess of what you assumed was love.

He spoke the words in this very spot, sat in the chair across from you. You had been watching the way his thumb would caress the back of his other hand and you knew, the night was bound to end in a disastrous way. An unfortunate turn of events for the witch who doesn’t truly know if she ever loved another or was ever loved.

Yet, you sit here, eyes completely dry. Far from crestfallen, far from regret. Only filled with the dread of not feeling the sadness you’re supposed to be feeling. You ignore how your shoulders feel lighter and how the tightness in your chest seems to have miraculously disappeared as soon as you watched Walter walk out of the Leaky Cauldron.

Are the butterbeers celebratory or depressing? You’re not sure.

You rest your chin on your palm, feeling like you’re in a daze. Butterbeer isn’t necessarily the type of drink to get you intoxicated but noting the rate you’re consuming each mug, it’s no surprise that you’re just a little tipsy.

Then, you see a certain ginger twin emerge from the entrance of the pub like some divine intervention. He seems to spot you from afar, waving in your direction. You lift your hand weakly in the midst of trying to figure out which of the twins you are particularly waving at. It’s Fred Weasley as it turns out, you recognize the certain strides with every step taken towards you that differs him from George. As he nears you, there’s an assurance that it’s certainly Fred with the sight of a mark on the bridge of his nose—an indicator and a technique to tell the twins apart you used when you were younger.

Fred halts by the empty seat diagonally to your left, hands shoved in the pockets.

“I have never seen you here at this hour—are you okay?” Fred cuts himself short, brows turning into a frown when he notices the unusual mess in your hair. If he knows you any better, well-kept and neat hair was all you cared about after the number of times you have furiously whined about the frizz in your hair during the summertime.

It isn’t summer now, well into the end of November. The days are colder and he remembers how your hair would especially shine in the gloom of Autumn.

“Not really.” is all you manage to say before taking the hundredth swig from your nearly empty butterbeer. You inspect the mug with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “I swear this was full the last time I looked...”

Before you know it, he’s snatching the mug away from you, dragging it across the table as he settles into the empty chair. He stares at you with a beckoning brow, expression mixed with disappointment, disapproval, and worry.

“Hey! That’s my butterbeer, Weasley!” you whine, trying to reach for it but Fred pushes it further, hand securing around it. Without hesitation, you smack him in the arm. “Stop being a complete arse, Fred. What are you even doing here and where’s George anyway?”

Fred winces in pretense pain, dramatically rubbing the side of his arm as he tries to suppress his laughter from your sudden burst of violence. “George is back at the shop going over numbers and as far as I’m concerned, I can be anywhere I want to be. You clearly had too much to drink.”

“But it's butterbeer!”

“That is exactly my point.”

You let out a huff, leaning into your seat and running your fingers through your hair. After a moment’s silence with Fred still staring you down in the effort of getting you to talk, you finally give in. He knows you too well for you to hide anything from him.

“Walter and I broke it off.”

Fred blinks, trying to hide his wide-eyed gaze. “For good?”

You finally turn to him, nodding slowly. “For good.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft when in reality he’s trying to hide his relief in hearing that things between you and Walter have finally come to a resolution because falling in and out of a relationship was driving you mad. He cares for you and always has since the very beginning and a part of him wishes for those feelings of infatuation between two melancholic teenagers will emerge back from what he assumed was already dead.

He watches you lean your head back onto your palm, seemingly sinking deeper towards the table as you try to wrap your head around the situation to form proper words with your lips. “You know what’s the worst part of it all?” Fred shakes his head, eyes never breaking contact with your own. “I don’t even feel that sad about it. Like all those years were...nothing.” Your laugh comes out as a puff of air. It’s cynical rather than finding the humor in it. For the first time, he doesn’t laugh when you do.

Another beat of silence and Fred is contemplating whether his next words that beg to be freed from his mind are appropriate in a time like this. Although he knows how he tends to speak his mind without thinking of the consequences, he knows to tread lightly around you from the times when his words nearly tore your friendship apart.

Still, he knows to be honest with you.

Through the chatter of the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron whilst a few men by the other corner of the pub begin to break into singing a drinking song, Fred’s voice comes off as a whisper, barely audible. “You don’t love him, don’t you?”

Your gaze had initially drifted to the bunch of rowdy men, rendering verses about magical whisky and beer. Yet, they now return to hold a certain ginger’s gaze. You want to be offended by his question because of how it supposedly hurts the raw wound of feeling sorry for yourself. Your love life hasn’t been the best and your tendency to jump to your own defense about it is a clear note to everyone that it simply shouldn’t be questioned.

But it’s Fred. The one who has constantly looked out for you when other boys and men seem to take advantage of your hopeless romantic side. The one who would pull a prank on George just to see you smile. The one who ended up taking you to the Yule Ball as his date because Walter, at the time, rejected you like you were nothing. You should have known that it was never meant to be.

You know to be honest with Fred Weasley.

“I don’t think I ever did.”

He doesn’t say anything, wanting to listen as he waits for you to conceive the proper words to finally speak your mind. It is clear you want to let it out and let off of the burden that has trapped you under its knees, constantly looming over your shoulders and causing dread and fear of losing so much in such a short time. The band of merry men as the whole pub begins to join the group in singing about the joys of alcohol, life, and love in the tune of a traditional Scottish muggle song.

You wonder how can these people be so happy in a time of an impending war. Maybe, it's temporary, meant to drown the hurt and sorrows for tonight and when morning comes, they'll return to opening the stitches of their wounds. When morning comes, you will either wake up at this very table or in an empty bed. Either way, you’ll be alone.

Now, all you want to do is get all your worries and troubles off your chest, not wanting to feel so empty and suffocated. “Love,” you pause, inhaling deeply. ”Love is supposed to be good and pure and beautiful. Love was what I thought I had and right now, I don’t know what to make of it, Fred...I thought I was going to marry him someday.” You find yourself sighing once more, already feeling the lightness in your chest. Running your fingers along your cheek, you close your eyes to help yourself focus through your rapid thoughts and your dazed mind. “Everything is going wrong. I hate my job. I hate my bed. I’m drunk on butterbeer for Merlin’s sake. I feel so, so alone—”

“Ah, and that’s where you are wrong.”

Your eyes are open now, narrowed from adjusting to the sudden brightness of the candlelit place. They drift to Fred who seems very content. He then places his hand on yours and you realize you had been fiddling with your fingers for the last minute. His hand is warm on yours and the heat gradually travels to your chest, heartbeat now slightly picking up in speed. If you listen close enough, you would be able to hear it.

“You are never alone. Not when I’m around and you know I will always be around.”

His words tug at the side of your lips, now widening into a faint smile. It’s small but it’s the kind that reaches your eyes and raises your cheeks. “Thank you, Freddie.”

Then, you watch him abruptly come to a stand, chair screeching. He tugs on the lapels of his coat, adjusting it with the roll of his shoulders. He grabs the back of his chair, and leans forward, towards you. “George and I are visiting the Burrow for the weekend. I’m sure mum won’t mind you staying over.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape at his offer. “I don’t want to trouble anybody—”

“Don’t be silly. Mum loves you more than George and I combined. And she loves us a lot!”

You laugh and it’s genuine this time, knowing how Molly will be always whispering to you about what makes Fred a good husband in the kitchen when you’re washing up the plates and how she will never let you go to bed hungry.

The burrow is like your second home and right now, home is all you want and need.

“Alright, then.”

#happy 1000!#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine

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comfortscripts · 2 years

Note

Can I request angst for my beloved Harry Potter with prompt 8 from the angst list😩

Threw me a curve ball here!!! But the reader is definitely angsty

You gotta be the one to request angst huh? ahahah

TW - Reader joins Voldemort and Harry sucks

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, staining in rivers of sorrow and anger. Without direction, you ran, ran as far as you could from those who had hurt you so dearly. From those who claimed to love you indescribably.

Harry Potter. The boy who lived, Hogwarts' hero, and the one who stole your child-like heart. He used to whisper his undying love in the early hours, held your hand through all the challenges this dreadful world brought, and proclaimed promises of protection. But he lied, his love was untrue, and his claim of protection meant nothing as he shattered your heart.

Ginny Weasley of all people, that was who he decided to sneak away with. Your closest friend, the girl who knew how deep the love you felt for him ran. Betrayal seeping into your bones as you saw the fiery girl’s lips collide with the bespectacled wizard, grasping at each other as if they were starved animals.

Those images haunted you with every step you took, weakening your knees as your heart constricted and strained against your chest. Gathering that you were a safe distance from the disturbing scenes of 12 Grimmauld Place, you allowed your body to slump. Leaning against a sturdy willow in search of support as you sunk to the pillows of fallen leaves.

Curling into a figure of pain and anger, allowing all emotions to course through your bones. The sorrow had passed, until all you felt was pure rage, they had purposely hurt you and now, you didn’t feel the sadness, just the anger.

“Ahh first heartbreak is a disastrous one, clouds the sense and wounds the soul.”

Those chilling words were spoken with such grace and rule, never could you have fathomed the speaker. Standing mere metres away, robes dancing eerily with the Autumn winds and wand hanging delicately from his milky fingers. Voldemort stood proudly before you.

If your body was even an ounce stronger and your heart a piece more intact, you would have rose to battle the Dark Lord. But you found yourself wishing for nothing more than to be left alone, whether that meant he was left unscathed or whether you were to fall at his feet lifelessly. Instead, your eyes watched his being as you felt him inspect your position.

“The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains. But from the ashes of a broken heart, power can rise.” Reaching his slender ethereal hand in an offer of support, willing your own soul to crave leadership from the falsely wise wizard. “Let me teach you how to use this power, and together, we will make sure that Harry Potter recognises his mistake.”

Logic screaming to refuse his offer and run, but it was no use. Your heart had taken control, and your heart never wanted to feel this pain ever again, so with a trembling hand and bloodshot eyes, you gripped the future that the Dark Lord was promising.

#quote celebration #Harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fandom imagine

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weuschoiceheart · 3 years

Text

⋘I-Land (OT9) / Enhypen⋙ Love, I-Land

A special collection of stories, for a special group of boys...Happy anniversary to eggies, it’s been a year since I-Land announced the first batch of trainees, a year since we all dive into this roller coaster ride of a show.

~ Inspired by Taylor Swift’s love songs ~

Tagging: @mari-kigold @akira-star @affectionaterainoflove @enhypenthusiast @periwinkle-ink

Warning: suggestive in K’s part (just a brief makeout session), angsty in some parts BUT there’s fluff to make up for it, cursing (literally all my works have curse words in them, I can’t write without making the characters curse at least once lmao)

Word Count: 6k+

K - Wildest Dreams ; passionate love

You didn’t know how you two ended up like this.

It was just a simple school project, and you’ve told yourself it was going to be nothing more than that. That's what you kept repeating in your head, over and over again as you called him over. Yet in your heart, you knew you just wanted him all over you again, even if it’s just temporary, even though you knew it would tear you apart.

Nothing lasts forever...but this is gonna take me down.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be making out with the school’s enigma, you shouldn’t have invited him to your house in the first place, knowing it would end up like this, with your lips latched onto his. You shouldn’t be reciprocating the kiss, his mouth hot against yours, one hand tangled in your shirt to bring you ever closer, the other wrapped tight around your waist that you knew it would leave bruises. And most of all, you shouldn’t be enjoying this as his lips moved down your neck, his warm breath tickling your sweet spot, tongue flicking over your collarbone.

Because you knew this moment would be your last, before he disappears and leaves you with a gaping hole in your heart.

K finally pulls away, panting slightly as he tilts his head, a cute gesture that doesn’t match the smirk on his face. “Your lips are so red.”

Bringing a hand up to touch them, you knew they were swollen from the amount of times he bit and nipped at them. Your eyes flicked to his, before looking away. “Well, so are yours.”

K studied you for a bit, his gaze searching, making you feel suddenly small under his glare. What is he thinking? After a moment, he lets go of you, standing up and straightening out his shirt. “I’m going to go. See you tomorrow.”

And suddenly, you felt that panicky feeling in your chest again, and the fear came rushing back. You don’t know if you’ll see him tomorrow, or ever again. Those were just casual words, something to say instead of “goodbye,” because some part of you, maybe it was just wishful thinking, hopes he feels the same. But K isn’t like that. He’s like the autumn breeze that comes and goes, before sending your life into winter without his presence. He never abides by the rules, and floats in that gray area in between, where your relationship with him also lies.

You knew what you were getting into when you kissed him on the rooftop that day, knew that it would only cause you pain. You don’t want your time with him, all these passionate moments of love, to disappear until you can only recall them in your wildest dreams.

Your body reacts before you can think, grabbing his arm as he turned to the door. He stiffened in your grasp, but didn’t make an effort to break away.

“Stay, please.” You mentally curse your voice for sounding so weak, the hand on his arm trembling.

K turned around to face you again, his cold, calculating eyes softening as they met your uncertain ones. His arm finally relaxed, and he sat down again.

“Alright.”

Heeseung - Superstar ; idol love

“I swear to god, why aren’t they picking up?” you tapped your phone in frustration, frowning. As if on cue, a message lit up your screen, and you opened it, curious to see the reason behind your friend’s unresponsiveness.

Sorry, I won’t be able to make it to the concert. I’m working on a project with K.

“K, huh?” you shook your head at your friend’s words. “Aren’t they afraid that he’ll break their heart? Project, my ass.”

Sighing, you pocketed your phone. There’s not much you can do to convince them that their relationship with K was only going to hurt them, but you couldn’t stop the two from having their hands all over each other, ever since your friend came to you screeching about their first kiss on the school rooftop. Like some romantic K-drama where a bad boy falls for the good girl.

Well, not like your love life is any better....

You shook your head, deciding to push these thoughts out of your head and go enjoy your school’s spring concert by yourself. At least you’ll be able to stare at Heeseung all you want without your friend teasing you.

A small twinge of sadness echoed in your chest at the thought of Heeseung, but you quickly pushed that out of your mind. You weren’t here just for him, of course. Youngbin and Geonu were doing a duet, Seon had a sexy solo that he’s been bragging about for weeks, and Nicholas, Jaeho, and the rest of their dance team prepared a special stage as well. So no, as much as you like spending most of the time ogling Heeseung, you were there to support your friends, have a good time off from your studies, and ignoring these annoying fangirls that always surround him—

Yeah, right. You knew it all circles back to Heeseung eventually.

Kicking at some pebbles on the ground, you sighed and realized that the guards were about to close the entrance doors soon. Joining the queue of parents and students, you handed your ticket to the theater teacher (who fixed you with a scrutinizing stare, perhaps remembering you as that problematic theater student she took under her wing a few years ago) and entered the auditorium. The lights dimmed, and the show began.

You screamed yourself hoarse during the performances, cheering on your friends (turns out Seon’s performance did live up to the epic stage he was talking about, you saw the girls—and some boys—practically drooling), and the thought of Heeseung left your mind. Until the final encore, that is, when he and Geonu took center stage to cover “Butterfly” by BTS.

Your eyes widened as he started singing, heart racing a million miles per hour. A smile unconsciously made its way onto your face, and your breath caught in your throat as his eyes flickered over the audience. As if reading your mind, they landed on you, leaving you breathless. Please notice me...oh my god, his eyes are so pretty....

“Did you see that? He made eye contact with me!” the girl beside you squealed, and the moment was gone. The smile wiped off your face, and you turned to her, seeing her beaming at the same boy you were looking at before. Your gaze broke away to scan the masses of people staring at the boys on stage with love-struck expressions on their faces, and suddenly you just feel...alone. Some part of your heart broke, and it was like reality struck you across your face.

You were just another wide-eyed fan desperately in love with a superstar who doesn’t even know your name.

That revelation followed you outside after the concert ended, and as if the weather understands your thoughts, it had started pouring outside. Rummaging around in your bag, only to come up empty, you gulped down your tears and resolved to walk home without an umbrella. Damn it, you should’ve come prepared!

Well, you can’t really prepare for heartbreak, can you?

You hadn’t gone two paces however, when you felt something opening up above you, and turning, you almost had a heart attack upon seeing Heeseung standing beside you. He held an umbrella over you both, his eyes darting from you to the ground, a small blush painted across his cheeks. He seemed fidgety, unlike the confident boy on stage moments ago, and you’re left speechless. An awkward silence passed between you two, before he cleared his throat.

“You’re really cute—I mean, you’re Y/N from my research class, right?” You nodded, internally screaming at the fact that he just called you cute. “I...I, um, I saw you didn’t have an umbrella and it’s really pouring out here, so uh-” he laughed nervously, a small grin forming on his lips as he stared at you expectedly. “Do you want to share?”

Jake - Fearless ; first love

“Bleh, sappy couples,” you shook your head, wrinkling your nose at the scene in front of you. Then again, everyone basically called you and Jake a sappy couple, so you really shouldn’t be saying anything.

Speaking of Jake, you caught him running down the road towards you, his umbrella jostling over his head. Laughing to yourself, you watched as the umbrella caught on another, then got tangled in a whole mess of umbrellas. Jake quickly disentangled his from the rest, apologizing profusely to the party of concert-goers who only shook their heads and motioned for him to go. Giving them a slight nod, he ran up to you, thankfully with no further mishaps, stumbling to a stop in front of you.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, beaming at you. You swear every time you look at him, it was like falling for him all over again. Despite the cold and the rain, the feeling spread all over you and you felt suddenly warm and fuzzy.

“Let’s go.” You grabbed his hand, and he tucked you under the umbrella, arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you began walking home. “How was the concert?”

“Amazing, though I still wish you got to perform,” you snuggled up to his side, unable to keep a smile off your face. Jake sighed, somewhat regretfully.

“You know I have to work overtime this week, or I won’t be able to pay the rent for the apartment.”

“I know, I know.” You turned to him, eyeing the dark bags under his eyes. “You look exhausted....hey, you should’ve gone home to rest, not come out in the rain to pick me up. You can catch a cold—”

“I don’t want you to walk home by yourself after dark, it’s too dangerous,” Jake interrupted. He grinned at you, and you felt like your heart was gonna melt. Is this what love feels like? Then I’m glad that he’s my first.

The two of you were almost home, when you realized that you were approaching the abandoned parking lot near your house. An idea struck you then, and you suddenly grabbed Jake’s hand, startling him out of his rant about the shitty customer at the cafe.

“Come on, let’s dance in the rain.”

“Huh?” Jake’s eyebrows knit into a frown. “Weren’t you worried about catching a cold a few minutes ago?”

You shook your head, a cheeky grin on your face. Your heartbeat quickened, a shot of adrenaline rushing through you. You weren’t usually like this, but you thought back to the shows you watched, and well, first love means trying something new, right? “The rain is letting up Jake, we’ll be fine. Please?”

A flicker of doubt crossed his face, and you thought he was going to say no, before he nodded and closed the umbrella. You let out a gasp as the cool drops hit your face, and a loud squeal when Jake grabbed your hand and twirled you around the parking lot.

You thought this only existed in movies, but it’s all real. You’re dancing with the love of your life, fearlessly, in the middle of a rain shower. His hands clasped around your waist, a wide smile stretching from ear to ear as you grabbed onto his shoulders and he lifted you off your feet, like the ballroom dances in these old fashioned films. The wind whistled in your ears, the rain splashing on the sidewalk sounds like music. You couldn’t stop laughing, and neither can he, and you knew you were going to remember this moment for the rest of your life.

However, your strength gave out after a while, and the two of you stood there, swaying side to side. At this point, you couldn’t care that your clothes are wet and sticking to your skin, and you lean your forehead against Jake’s. He giggled, small droplets of water trailing down from his soaked hair. And he slowly leans in, the distance between you two shortening, your hands begin to shake as your breath quickens.

Is he going to—?

Sensing your nervousness, he grabbed one of your hands in his, pulling you in. You felt a little more brave as you tugged at the front of his shirt in your other hand, and connected your lips, at last.

It’s a first kiss, it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless.

Jay - Ours ; long distance love

Lucky Jake, you muttered to yourself, sighing as you rested your head on the counter. He doesn’t have to deal with stupid customers at this time, and at least he has more experience with people yelling at him. Or maybe you’re just jealous that he has someone to hang out with, go on dates with, and laugh by his side.

You smiled sadly to yourself and took out your phone, opening the photo gallery. You felt a pang of nostalgia and wistfulness as you clicked on the first photo of you and Jay. It was from your date at the shopping mall, where Jay had chosen several outfits and forced you to try them on. It was a time where you had let your insecurities get the best of you, and Jay was having none of it. The photo was of him hugging you after you tried on one of the outfits he picked out.

You look beautiful, you can hear him say. Stunning, amazing, don’t ever doubt yourself again.

I won’t, you had murmured back. Thank you, love.

“Seriously, is this some sort of playhouse? Can’t even do their job right....”

Your head quickly shot up, eyes widening at the intimidating businessman in front of you. Fuck, not him again....

He rolled his eyes at you. “Two large cups of mocha latte with a half shot of espresso. And make it quick, I’m in a hurry.”

You purse your lips in disdain. “Yes, sir.”

Putting your phone away, you sighed as you began making his order. If Jay was here, he would’ve made you laugh by making fun of his attitude, or just straight up told the man off. But he’s not here, and he’s not going to help you out, you thought to yourself, gritting your teeth together as you mixed the coffee. He’s working for that fashion company in Paris, so just let him live his dream. C’mon, Y/N, just make this damn coffee, give it to that damn businessman who can’t keep his damn mouth shut—

“Be careful, you idiot! You’re going to spill them!”

You snapped out of your daze, again, by the harsh voice of the customer, who grabbed the two coffees, spilling foam over your hands, causing you to hiss in pain. And he had the audacity to walk away muttering, “Gosh, I’m never coming back to this shitty place again.”

Swallowing the pain, you went to wash your hands at the sink. It’s part of the job, there will always be some people yelling at you, it’s not your fault, you tried to comfort yourself, though you were sick and tired of this. This endless routine, the fake smiles you have to put on, a gaping hole in your heart you can’t cover up. It’s been over a year since Jay has gone, and suddenly, you missed him more than ever. Frustrated, you turned the faucet off, almost yanking it off the sink in the process. Burying your face in your hands, your mind wandered to something Jay had told you, right before he left for the trip.

Don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine.

You smiled at Jay’s words, and took a deep breath, calming yourself down. You will get through this. Drying your hands off on a towel, you smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt and set your face in a hard line. Just a few more hours, and you’ll finally get off work. You can do this.

Making your way to the counter again, you prepared to put on your custom smile and act like the cheerful barista you were supposed to be. “Hello! How may I—”

“Y/N?”

Your breath caught in your throat, as your eyes met the person you were just thinking about. No, it’s not possible, how— The two of you stared at each other in disbelief, before Jay’s face relaxed into a bright smile, and he opened his arms.

You ran out from behind the counter and wrapped your hands around him. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, you held on tight, and that’s when the tears came, happy and sad at the same time.

Jay didn’t say anything, for there was no need to use words when actions and feelings showed it all. He grasped you in his arms, body shaking slightly as he blinked back the tears from his own eyes. I’m finally back home.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, but you couldn’t care less. No matter how many annoying customers you have to face, no matter how many times coffee spills all over you, nothing can separate you from what is yours.

You can say what you want, but this love is ours.

Sunoo - Sparks Fly ; pure love

You and Sunoo quietly crept out of the cafe, not wanting to disturb the couple hugging by the counter. Unfortunately for you two though, it had started raining outside, and none of you brought an umbrella.

“Really? And the forecast said it wouldn’t rain,” Sunoo grumbled, pouting. “The weather person needs to get fired.”

You laughed at his words, resisting the urge to pinch his cheeks. “They’re just trying to do their job, Sunoo. I mean, it’s not that bad....should we just make a run for it?”

Sunoo gasped dramatically. “And mess up our hair? How will I take our end-of-the-date selfie with our soggy selves?”

You rolled your eyes, “we can use our school bags to cover us. I mean, it’s either that, or be late to our movie night.”

Sunoo mulled over it for a moment, scrunching his nose in concentration. “Oh, fine. But we’re sticking to the cover until we have to cross the street.”

“Deal.” The two of you shuffled along the awning of the cafe, until you reached the end of the street where the crosswalks are. You two looked at each other, hunching your bookbags over your head. One hand holding onto your bag, you stretched your hand out to Sunoo, a smile crossing both of your faces as he took it.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three. GO!”

The two of you dashed out into the rain, laughing and screaming like little kids. A wild, childish bliss took over you, and you couldn’t stop giggling as you gripped tightly onto Sunoo’s hand. He looked over at you, and you can see that he was having the time of his life as well, smiling so much that his eyes seemed to disappear. You wish time could stop at that moment, as rain poured down around you two, the happy feeling in your chest expanding with love.

All too soon, your journey ended as you two rushed up, panting, to the door of your house. Letting your bags fall over your shoulders, the two of you turned to each other and laughed. You reached over to part the hair from his eyes, and he playfully flicked his head, spraying water on your face. You let out an indignant yelp, before lightly pushing him, then reaching to catch him again before he slips down the wet steps. Sunoo held onto your arm, trying to contain his laughter, though his bright smile gave it away.

“Gosh, we’re a mess,” you said as you tried to catch your breath. Putting your bag down, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys. “But you know what? Let’s do that again next time.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll actually remember to bring an umbrella next time,” Sunoo said, shaking out his wet bag. He grinned at you, and you swear you can see sparks fly whenever he smiles.

Jungwon - Mine ; enduring love

You trudged down the street, not minding the fact that you’re thoroughly soaked by the rain. Everything felt like a blur around you as your mind kept replaying the scene from moments before, and the tears came streaming down your face again, mingling with the drops from the sky. The sound of laughter pierced through your reverie, and you turned to see a couple giggling together at the front steps of their house, the sight making your heart squeeze.

What went wrong?

We were like them too, so what happened to us?

Sniffing, you wiped your nose with the back of your hand, turning away from the scene. Looking around, you realized that you had walked farther away from the house than you expected, and that it was already dark. Should I go back? As much as you don’t want to confront Jungwon right now, you don’t want him to worry either. Would he even worry though? Maybe this really is the end...

Making up your mind, you resolved to just keep walking, until you finally decided on what to do. Taking out your phone, you texted your friend whether you can stay over at theirs tonight. Slipping the device back into your pocket, you continued plodding along.

Until someone grabbed your arm, and you screamed.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s me.”

Whirling around, your heart rate slowed as you made eye contact with your boyfriend. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, and you saw that his eyes were red, like he had been crying too.

“Jungwon...” you extricated your arm from his hold, and took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I ran after you,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground. “After you left.”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. “O-oh.”

Not knowing what to say, the two of you stood there, and each passing minute felt like a wall growing bigger and bigger between you two. You didn’t know how the two of you even ended up like this—an offhand comment, which somehow led to yelling and cursing, and then you were running out into the streets alone, crying. And now, to this silence. It felt like hours before Jungwon spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

Gulping, you forced the words out of your throat too. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve stayed instead of just running away like that.”

He shook his head. “No, this was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you...talked to you in that way.”

You sighed. “Well, let’s just say it’s both of our faults, then. It doesn’t matter.”

Jungwon nodded hesitantly, peering up at you. “Should we go back to the dorms?”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking. Everything felt too much, like a fragile heart broken into a million pieces, each one jagged and misshapen. “I already texted my friend that I’ll stay over at their house tonight. Should we—should we just take a break, Jungwon? These days we’ve just been arguing and fighting with each other, I don’t know how we can continue this, if we can even—”

Your voice cracked, and the whirlpool of tears finally broke free as you sobbed, face in your hands. Your body tenses as you feel Jungwon’s arms wrap around you, relaxing slightly as he patted your back, trying to soothe your sorrows.

“Y/N, do you remember when we first met?”

He was working part-time at a restaurant as a waiter, and you thought he was pretty cute. You found that he was going to the same school as you, and the two of you became best friends. You fell for him a few months later, and ever since then, he was always by your side. Until everything fell apart a few weeks ago, when your tempers ran short and tension climbed high.

“I thought you were so beautiful...and remember our promise? I swore I was going to stay with you, that we won’t make the same mistake as your parents. You are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I know it’s hard to be together right now, when both of us are so busy that we don't have time with each other anymore...but I’ll always have time for you, Y/N. I know this sounds cheesy and all, but I just want to say that I love you and I don’t want to let you go.”

Sniffing, this time the tears flow because of his words. Turning around, you gave him a cheeky grin as you wiped your face. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jungwon.”

His cheeks turned a shade of pink, and he shyly held out his hand. You took it, and the two of you started walking back home.

Niki - Jump Then Fall ; childhood love

Never mind, I’m going home tonight.

You raised your eyebrows at your friend’s message. Probably some couple problems with Jungwon. You were about to text back a reply, before you felt your pants get splashed with water.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, exasperated because you already know who did it. Sometimes I wonder how I even have a crush on him. I waited for him after dance practice and this is what I get? Turning around, you faced your friend, or as you like to call him, your greatest enemy, Nishimura Riki.

He has his usual mischievous grin on his face, jumping from foot to foot as he kicks at another puddle. Thankfully, you jumped out of the way just in time. Narrowing your eyes playfully, you said, “I see how it is...this is war.”

The rain had left numerous puddles on the sidewalk (probably due to the potholes your school refused to spend their money to fix), and you chased Niki down the street, splashing him with water. He laughed loudly and reached up (dangit, why is he so tall?), grabbed one of the branches of a tree, shaking the water from it. Gasping, your eyes widened as you got drenched from the drops. You glared at him, only causing his smile to stretch even wider from ear to ear. “I won,” Niki announced triumphantly.

You pouted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, fine. But it’s not fair, how did you even get this tall?”

Niki shrugged, as if it was no big deal, though you want to wipe the smug grin off his face. “I grew 13 centimeters last year.”

“Impossible,” you huffed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, raising his eyebrows at you as if challenging your statement. Shrugging his dance bag over one shoulder, Niki started walking, and you followed. “You just want to brag about your height.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Niki teased in a sing-song voice. “Either way, I’m still taller than you~”

You smiled grudgingly, stealing a look at him from the corner of your eye. It seems like yesterday when you both were kids, and he was this bouncy little boy who loved to annoy the hell out of you. He still does, but you felt a twinge of nostalgia as you see how tall and mature he had come, and even more good-looking as well. If only he knows how much I like him.

Sensing your stare, Niki wiggled his eyebrows at you, making you laugh at his expression. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” you turned away, embarrassed. You really need to be less obvious, though Niki’s too oblivious to know anything about your feelings for him.

“No, it’s something,” he leaned closer to you, and suddenly you forgot how to breathe properly. “Is there something on my face?”

You shook your head quickly, gaze wandering anywhere but his eyes. Spying a puddle in the corner of your vision, an idea flashed through your mind. Leaning closer, so that your faces were only inches apart, you noticed that Niki’s cheeks were blushing pink at the close distance. Maybe this isn’t so one-sided after all.

“Actually, there is something.”

“W-what?” You expected him to pull away, but his eyes were dreamy, getting lost in your own. Or maybe you were the one getting lost in his. Tearing your gaze away, you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the biggest puddle near the curb of the street. Taking a deep breath, you jumped straight into it, causing a huge splash that doused both you and Niki in water. You wished you could capture this moment on camera: Niki’s flustered face when you took his hand, his eyes widening comically as water sprayed his clothes. You laughed out loud, smirking at him. “I won,” you said, mimicking his voice from earlier.

Your smile faded when Niki didn’t say anything back, the shocked expression still on his face. Confused, you asked, “what’s wrong?”

Clearing his throat, he motioned his head towards your intertwined hands. “Um, you’re still holding onto my hand.”

Maybe it’s cliche, two childhood friends falling for each other, but what’s wrong with cliches? You tightened your grip on his hand, grinning as his face flared red. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he looked down, making you giggle. Oh, how the tables have turned. You took a step closer.

“No, it’s something.”

He glanced up at you, unable to conceal a shy smile. You loved the way his hair falls in his face, slightly damp from jumping into too many puddles.

And all I can say is come closer, take a deep breath and jump then fall into me.

Daniel - Fifteen ; platonic love

“When are they going to confess already?” you snickered, eyeing the two teens playing in the puddles. Daniel followed your stare, shrugging at your words.

“When they finally get in through their heads that their feelings are mutual,” Daniel said. “Who knows how long that’ll take.”

You fold your arms across your chest, turning away and gazing wistfully into the distance. “Maybe one day I’ll find love like that.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow at you. “You got time, you’re still fifteen after all.”

Your hands dropped, and you sighed as your shoulders sagged. “I can’t believe I’m fifteen already...high school is so hard.”

Daniel laughed at the whine in your voice, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You pushed his hand away, glaring at him. “Hey, don’t laugh. You didn’t get any of the difficult classes this year.”

“That’s because I already know I want to major in art so...there’s no need to take these classes anyway.”

You stopped and turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “What in art, specifically?”

Daniel's eyes flickered to yours, looking away in embarrassment. “Oh, just something in music.”

You grinned slyly, probing further. “What in music, exactly?”

Daniel gulped, hoping you wouldn’t laugh at him this time. “Um...well, I really want to become a rapper…”

Your eyes widened and you gasped. “A rapper? Daniel, that’s amazing!”

Your friend blinked in confusion, surprised at your excitement. “You-you think so?”

Nodding fervently, you started walking again. Around you, the streetlights flared to life. “Yeah, I mean, you seem pretty passionate about it. I remembered how the teacher caught you writing lyrics in the back of the textbook when you’re supposed to be paying attention during class.”

Daniel humphed, his long strides quickly catching up with yours. “Hey, math is boring, alright? You weren’t listening either.”

You decided to concede with him on that point, because math, indeed, is a pain in the ass (also because you were afraid he’ll stop letting you copy his homework right before class). “Fine, but I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be ashamed of your dream. You’re dedicated, I know you can do it.”

Daniel smiled shyly at your words. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled back half-heartedly. “And here I am, with nothing planned out. I still don’t know who I want to be, or even who I am.”

“It’s fine if you haven’t figured yourself out yet, just go with the flow and do things that make you feel happy. Then you’ll discover where your interests and dreams lie,” Daniel said sagely, making your eyes roll at his tone. He bumped your shoulder with his. “I’ll always be here for you, yeah?”

“Thanks, but I just...you know how you’re at that time in your life, when you’re just questioning everything? Like, what is the meaning of life? Why am I here?”

“Just to suffer,” Daniel whispered, flinching away as you whacked him on the arm. “Ok, ok, I didn’t know you were going to get this deep.”

“Maybe I should be an English teacher then,” you said thoughtfully. “Make all the students analyze the meaning of the universe, like how Mr. Kim is forcing us to analyze Romeo and Juliet.”

“Romeo and Juliet…” Daniel stopped suddenly, making you bump into him. “Oh no...I forgot my copy of the book at school!”

You gave him a look. “Seriously? I told you to get it out of your locker!”

Daniel scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk, avoiding your gaze. “Well, you know how loud and chaotic the dismissal was...I couldn’t hear you.”

You shook your head in resignation. “Whatever, I’ll just send you pictures of the pages we have to read.”

Daniel’s head shot up, eyes staring hopefully at you. “Really? Y/N, thank you so much, you know you're my best friend right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just make sure to remember it next time, or you’re on your own.”

(Jokes on you, Daniel knows you’ll grudgingly share your book with him for the rest of the year if he keeps forgetting it).

Sunghoon - Love Story ; forbidden love

“Sunghoon!” you whisper-shouted, grimacing as your boyfriend stepped on a stick. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet darkness, and you looked around wildly. Grabbing his arm, you dragged him behind a rock, lips pursed in a tense line. Heart pounding, you felt both worried and exhilarated at the same time.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon said sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “Didn’t see that.”

You frowned at him, turning around. “And I thought princes have stealth training as part of their schooling.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “All they teach us is how to look buff and strong so we can pick fights with your family.”

Stifling a laugh, you took his arm again, pulling him along. “True true, that sounds a lot like what they teach Youngbin too...though Youngbin isn’t the fighting type.”

“Your brother’s too soft,” Sunghoon muttered, “I feel sorry for him sometimes...he’d rather be kind than argue.”

Your lips quirked up in a sad smile. “Yeah, but there’s not much we can do about the feud, right?”

Nodding, Sunghoon carefully stepped over a pile of leaves, hand clutching tight onto yours. As the two of you cautiously stepped around the bend in the country road, Sunghoon let out a light gasp seeing what lay ahead. You grinned at his expression, quickening your pace until you two stopped in front of an enormous garden. Its gates were made up of interlocking flowers and vines, a sweeping archway of overhanging branches from two willow trees, and an open field lined with flowers of every kind laid beyond. Pushing away the branches, Sunghoon watched as you unraveled the flower gate and stepped into the beautiful utopia.

“A secret garden,” Sunghoon commented in awe. “How…”

“Youngbin and I used to go here all the time, whenever our families fight,” you answered. “Now that he’s confined to the training field, I feel too lonely being here all by myself.”

“Are you sure Youngbin wouldn’t mind?” Sunghoon asked, not wanting to intrude in sibling affairs.

You cast a funny look at him. “No, I’m sure he won’t. Besides...you’re the person I’m closest to besides him.”

The comment made Sunghoon blush, and he followed you down the path. On each side of him bloomed hundreds of colorful blossoms, making Sunghoon wonder who lived here long ago to tend to them all. Marigolds, roses, lilies, fuchsias, tulips, flowers of every kind decorated the leaves and vines. He reached out to pluck a red rose from the fray, careful not to prick his fingers. Stopping every now and then to admire the flowers, you tugged him towards the open field. Sitting down on the grass, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Look, the sun is rising.”

And indeed it was. Sunghoon smiled as you two relaxed in silence, watching the sunlight streak over the horizon in different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. A new day, a new beginning, he thought. He turned when he felt something being placed on his head, only to meet your grinning face as you adjusted the flower crown in his hair.

“There,” you said, pushing a stray hair away from his eye. Leaning back proudly, you nodded at how the wreath of white daisies complemented his raven hair. “You look pretty, flower boy.”

Sunghoon took the red rose, breaking off the stem, tucked it behind your ear. “No, you’re prettier.”

“Whatever,” you said, though Sunghoon saw that you were trying hard not to smile. “Do you know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” Sunghoon asked, laying back onto the grass. He took the flower crown off and held it up to the sky, scrutinizing your handiwork. You mirrored his movement, turning on your side to face him.

“There’s this story I read in the library a few days ago, about how two young lovers woke up at dawn so they could watch the sunrise together.”

“Oh?” Raising an eyebrow, Sunghoon motioned for you to continue.

“Mhm,” You gazed off into the distance, a thoughtful look on your face. The sunbeams have gotten brighter, and they cast a glow on your face that Sunghoon couldn’t describe, other than ethereal. “It reminded me of us.”

“Who knows,” Sunghoon shrugged. “Maybe someday someone will write a story about us too.”

“A forbidden love story?” You snickered. “Who would write something like that?”

—— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— ——

~ Which story is your favorite? ~

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon.

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet.

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Isn't It Lovely

Summary: two girls in a town where if anyone knew of their feelings towards each other, they'd be locked away

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: sadness, angst, a love that feels illegal, a few swear words

A/N: so I was in my feels. You're welcome for this sad little bit

2 a.m.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words tumble from her mouth before she can even think to stop them. When she gets no reply she fears she’s messed up, ruined the night like she’s done so many times before. A hand touches her cheek, her head moving to face the girl laying beside her, and she’s met with a warm smile that calms all of her nerves.

“My mind constantly races with thoughts of you.”

It’s whispered so quietly, afraid the loudness of a confession like that could break their peaceful bubble right apart. There is a fire that burns in both their veins, fueled by words unspoken, words that feel illegal to even think. They can’t say what they really want to. In this small little corner of the world, the words I love you seem like a death sentence if anyone hears them coming from the two girls. So it stays between them and the three boys that are more their family than anyone else.

They’re laying on the roof of Victoria's trailer, it is dark and quiet, the stars being their only company. There’s a bottle of Damianos moonshine and a pack of cigarettes stolen from the corner shop being split between them. The closest thing they can get to a real date.

“One day, we’ll leave this place behind. I’ll take you to the ocean and we’ll get married, right then and there. And the best part is, no one can stop us.”

Victoria is always the optimistic one, always telling her of the things that seem impossible. “What about the boys? Lord knows they’d be lost without us.”

She sits up to face the girl, a goofy grin on her face, “Well, they’ll come with us of course! We’ll need someone to protect us from the scary sea monsters.”

She laughs, sitting up now too, and takes a swig of the bitter alcohol. She loves how Vic talks about the life they could have. It’s nice to dream, she thinks.

The wind picks up suddenly, a cold breeze floating through the space around them, and they’re reminded of the quickly changing seasons. Victoria shivers and she’s quick to wrap the girl beside her in one of the blankets. The summer had been short and autumn was quickly approaching, a reminder that this could be the last few hours they’d have together.

Victoria had gotten accepted to Julliard on a full scholarship, something she’d applied to on a whim with no real hopes of getting in. She’d be gone in the morning, off to live the dream she’d always wanted. While the other girl still had no idea of what she wanted from life, no connections anywhere, she’d most likely be stuck here working at the corner shop for the rest of her life.

Victoria huddled into the warmth of the blanket and took a long drag from one of the cigarettes. She could feel eyes on her, turning her head to look at the girl beside her, “What’re you staring at, pretty girl?”

The girl blushes, caught in the act of trying to commit her face to memory. “You. Trying to make sure I never forget what you look like.”

Victoria sighs, “I don’t have to leave, ya know. I could stay here, with you and the boys. We could be trailer park trash together.”

“No. You’re going to go off to New York and live the life you’ve been dreaming of, don’t worry about me.”

She takes another swig of the burning liquid, trying to drink away her sorrows. They’ve talked about it before, Vic staying here, but she’s always refused the offer. She knows it’d make her miserable and she can’t bear to be the reason why her love is sad.

“Then come with me. We could get a little apartment, you can find a job while I’m at school. We could be free.”

She’s got a line of tears pooling in her eyes, a flush covering her cheeks, and the alcohol is running rampid in her veins. She can’t help but hope, wanting nothing more than to have the one thing she knows she can’t.

“I can’t come with you Vic, you know that. I’ve got nothing going for me, I’d only keep you from doing what you want. I can’t do that to you, it’d break my heart.”

Another sigh leaves the girl. She dreams too much, she knows that, but is it so awful to want to be happy? “Do you love me?”

It’s a question that strikes her right in the heart. “You know I do.”

“No, I don’t. You’ve never said it, and you only act like you do when we’re alone. I’m the one who always says it, but I’ve never heard those words leave your lips.”

There’s a fire burning through her. She wishes she could blame it on the alcohol, but the question has been haunting her for weeks now, it was just a matter of time before they were brought to light.

“You know what it would mean if anyone heard us say it.”

Vic stands up abruptly, throwing the blanket from her body and pacing the length of the rooftop. “I don’t give a damn about anything but you! I love you, and I don’t care who knows it! They can burn me at the stake for all I care, I just want you.”

There are tears running down her cheeks now and she feels like her body is on fire. Her next words are barely above a whisper, but the girl hears them loud and clear, “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

She stands and walks over to Vic, reaching out to grab her, pulling her into her arms. She rubs circles into her back as she freely cries. Victoria gasps for air, feeling like she’s drowning. “Am I not enough for you? Am I not good enough?”

“No, no. That’s not it,” She takes a deep breath before pulling away to look into her eyes, “I love you. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Then what is it? Why does everything have to be a struggle with you? I feel like I’m trying to convince you of something I’m not even sure is worth fighting for anymore.”

She’s taken aback by the confession. “You don’t mean that Vic.”

“Maybe I do. Clearly you don’t know me that well if you don’t think I’d give up everything to be with you!”

She’s shouting and pacing again, and she knows someone could hear her, but she doesn’t care. She’d climb the tallest building and declare her love for the girl if it meant she could convince her. “Is it really so horrible to think that we could get away from all of this and be together?”

“You know we can’t.”

She stops her pacing, turning to stare at the other girl. “You’re the only one saying that. There is nothing keeping you here, nothing. But yet you keep saying you can’t leave. What is so important that it’s keeping you from being happy?”

Everything falls silent, and moments pass before she can bring herself to speak. She starts crying and it takes everything in her to speak her next words, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air like a knife over their heads. Victoria feels like all of the air has been sucked from her lungs. “How? Who?”

“At the graduation party Thomas threw. We’d been fighting, and I saw you hanging with another girl and I got jealous. I needed something to distract me so I got drunk and when he kissed me I didn’t even think of pushing him away. I don’t even remember his name, I don’t think he even told me. I regretted it the second it was over. We used a condom and I took plan b, but it clearly didn’t work. I found out last week, Dami drove me into the city. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

It is silent for what feels like hours. The wind whips around them, a storm forming overhead. They stand facing each other, staring into the other's eyes.

It’s Victoria who breaks the silence, a laugh escaping her lips. It is loud and ugly, strained by the tears still falling from her eyes. It’s not the time to laugh, but she can’t help it. “I hate you. Not because you’re pregnant, because if you had just told me we could have gone through this together. But because you’re choosing to subject it to the same life we were so desperate to escape. You could leave with me and we could raise that kid in a life far better than either of us had, but you’re a coward.”

The words feel like venom on her tongue. She can see the hurt cross the girl's face, a feeling of guilt settling in her gut, but she can’t take the words back now.

“Maybe I am. But that is my choice to make.”

Victoria turns away, heading to the ladder, whispering words that hurt them both, “Then It is your choice to make alone.”

Sometimes the hardest thing in life is loving someone and letting them go.

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Erased Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, mentions of death and grave robbery, might get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 3870.

Summary: One night your friend calls to remind you about commemorating your classmate who had drowned many years ago.

P.S. This was influenced by a Russian VN Opravdanie and some mourning rituals.

_____________________

One more evening. One more wasted day. With a grocery bag in your hand you kept walking the snowy streets of your home town where you spent all your life, never really trying to move somewhere: you had long decided there was no sense in going anywhere else even if your never changing routine was driving you crazy sometimes. Life was all the same in other places, too.

It was boring. Always quiet, always repetitive, always reminding you that it didn’t matter even if you’d forget the whole past year because it was all the same. A boring office job, small but stable salary, meetings with a couple of friends and fellow classmates from time to time, going to the same grocery store every week, returning to an empty apartment, spending your evening watching tv on the couch near a small radiator. Sometimes you would visit your parents or grandmother, listening to their concerns about you not having your own family yet and refusing to meet some son of their friends. Visits to another town close by were even more rare. You had never actually been to another country, and you had no idea what if felt like. Funny, but you didn’t even care.

You were stuck in that small snow-covered town where it had always been cold even when the gloomy summer was coming, and that was how it was supposed to be. You were destined to work somewhere you didn’t even like, one day marry a good for nothing guy and give birth to children who would inherit the same fate. There was nothing that could change - unless some hurricane would come and destroy the town at all. Then you would have to settle in some similar boring place and live the same way there.

Shaking off the snow from your hood, shoulders, and boots, you stepped into your apartment, happy it was much warmer inside - the radiator was working, thank goodness. As you hang your coat inside a hall closet, you brought the bag to the kitchen, lazily opening the fridge and looking at the meat leftovers and some porridge you cooked this morning. Uh-huh, you were too tired to make dinner, really. Some ham sandwiches would do.

Sitting on the coach again and watching some noir movie with a sandwich in your hand, you thought about how stupid your life was. What was you reason to live? Do some work nobody cared about? Making those silly reports nobody was going to read? Pleasing your parents with your mere presence? It was all you could think of, and the thought made you sad.

Suddenly, your phone rang, and you almost dropped the sandwich. Who was that? Your parents were going to bed early, and they didn’t really call you at this hour. Who was that?

Ah, Alex, a former classmate of yours who then studied in the same university as you. He was your good friend, and from time to time you were gathering in a cafe to chat about how things were going or just walked the streets together, complaining about your jobs.

“Don’t forget to commemorate Barnes today.” The message said, and you froze, furrowing your brows. Commemorate who?

That’s what you wrote to him, trying to remember who Alex was talking about.

“Barnes! Our classmate.” The next message said. “Remember when he got transferred to another school when we were 14? I’ve just talked to Anna, she said he drowned in the lake that year. Commemorate him today, it’s the day of his death.”

Oh shit. It’s true, you remembered that funny kid with a smile a mile wide and striking blue eyes all the girls were jealous of. How could you forget James? If you remembered well, you were kind of in love with him, but you were too young to really recognize your feelings and do something about them. Besides, when you thought of it now, you doubted James wouldn’t laugh at you. You two were just 14 years old, for God’s sake.

So, he died? Drowned? He probably wanted to take a shortcut through the lake instead of going through the whole park surrounding it, but that year the ice wasn’t strong enough to carry his weight, and he drowned just like several careless boys before him. Poor James. He was just a kid when it happened.

Suddenly, you realized how stupid of you was to think about your boring life and get upset over something so trivial. James was dead. You’d never chat about him with Alex and hear something about Barnes moving to some other city or getting a good raise or having a kid. He died. He was never going to get a job, marry someone, have children and live happily. You bet he would give anything for the boring life you were having.

Feeling cold, you stood up from the couch and headed over to the kitchen with a phone in your hand, a half-finished sandwich in the other. If it was the day of James’ death, you should really commemorate him: it meant having a drink and remembering something good about the boy, rest his soul. Maybe the next time you saw Alex you should talk about James with him, ask how did it really happen.

Despite you going through all the kitchen counters the only thing you found was some half-empty bottle of vodka probably forgotten by Alex or some of his friends. Shivering in your old knitted sweater, you looked out the window and furrowed your brows: it was too cold and dark to return to the grocery store for a bottle of wine. You’d prefer staying home and having just one shot of vodka, it was more than enough for commemorating someone. Not like James would care, really.

Cutting a few pieces of ham, cheese and some stale bread, you stopped for a second and went to an old wooden cupboard, taking out a few candies in bright-colored wrappings. Deciding it would be enough, you poured vodka into the glass and flinched, taking it closer to your mouth. Ugh, you never really liked strong alcohol, and the smell was kind of disgusting. Alex would laugh at you now, you thought and brought the glass to your mouth again.

I’m sorry it happened to you, James, you said to yourself, and the image of a smiling boy suddenly appeared in your head. You were a good kid. Rest in peace.

Knowing you won’t be able to tolerate the drink in your glass if you kept taking a sip after sip, you downed the shot and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the liquid burning your throat and making you cough. Shit, it was certainly too strong for you, so you quickly took a piece of bread and put some cheese on eat, swallowing it to get the taste of vodka away. Disgusting.

I hope you are in a better place now, James.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly finished your improvised sandwich and took a candy, leaving a wrapping on the table and not even bothering with throwing it in the trash bin. The taste of alcohol was still lingering on your tongue, and it was hard to breathe, making you cough and shut your eyes again. Damn, that was the last time you drank it. From now on nothing but wine!

Thinking water wasn’t enough to keep that irritating taste away, you put a metallic kettle on the stove to make some tea and sat back, watching the snow storm becoming stronger outside. Except the actual snow, everything was pitch black - street lights never worked despite people complaining to the town administration all the time. They only shone bright near the town hall, that’s how thing were in this godforsaken place.

Shit, you had the audacity to think of things like that when you were commemorating James, the boy who died before he even reached adulthood. Who on Earth cared about street lights right now?

Shaking your head, you decided to switch the lights off in the kitchen to have a chance to see the street. Soon you were sitting close to a cracked windowsill and staring at the never ending blackness, finding an odd comfort in it and the sounds of a raging storm. With each passing second it felt like your life wasn’t as bad as you thought.

____________

When you woke up from a loud sound as if someone was hitting the walls with great force, it smelled like something was burning in the kitchen, your throat dry and your head heavy; you felt like you were knocked down and stepped on because your head hurt. What had happened? What was that? That smell?..

The kettle on the stove.

Your body moved on your own when you opened a window, the snow getting in immediately and flying over the kitchen while you struggled to stand, using a chair to get closer to a stove with its surface becoming red, a kettle slowly melting on it. As you switched if off, you turned on the tap and immediately poured water over the kettle, then spraying some water on your face and clothes, realizing you almost caused a fire. Why didn’t the damn alarm work? Oh, this shit was so old you were hardly surprised.

Damn, you were lucky you had an electric, not a gas stove. You’d be dead by now.

As you slowly came back to your senses, you suddenly thought about that odd sound of someone hitting the wall upstairs, eventually waking you up. There was an old man living upstairs, the one who had always been in a cranky mood, but he had never woke you up at night like that. Was it the heat? Did he feel it and woke you up? Was it something else?

Looking at what was left from your beautiful metallic kettle on the stove, you let out a breath nervously and, wearing something like your old autumn jacket - it was hard to tell what you pulled from a hall closet - you quickly left your apartment, running up the stairs. What if the old man was having a stroke?

Feeling a bit dizzy still, you banged his door desperately, not knowing if he was still conscious or not. Was he still alive? Was he alright? If he were, was he going to open the door and yell at you at the top of his voice for almost burning your apartment down? Well, you thought you’d prefer the last option if it meant the man who saved you also stayed alive.

But he wasn’t opening. In fact, you heard no sounds coming from his apartment at all. Shit, he was really having a stroke, and you needed...

“Is everything alright?” Somebody to your left asked, and you jumped, clutching the jacket on your chest. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but you have been banging the door as if your life depends on it.”

It was a tall, beefy man in a black t-shirt with some heavy metal band on it, his dull brown hair quite long for a man living in a town as conservative as yours, eyes strikingly blue. He was living next to the man above you.

“Your neighbor...” You had a hard time pulling yourself together, your throat parched and scratchy. “He has been hitting the wall... He might be having a stroke.”

The man arched an eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side. “You sure? He went to see his children a few days ago. I don’t think he came back.”

“No, I’m sure!”

Obviously, the wall banging sounded right above your head, and no one but an old man living above you could do it. Yes, you were close to fainting that moment, but the sound was too clear to just brush it off.

“I need to call an ambulance.”

“Wait, he left me the keys to his apartment in case if the drain bursts again. Give me a second.” The next moments the stranger disappeared inside his own apartment, and for a couple of agonizing seconds you were left all alone on the staircase until the man showed up with a key in his hand, proceeding to open the door.

Getting inside, you started yelling loudly, “Sir! Sir, are you here?”

You ran to the kitchen, almost forgetting about the stranger: the picture of an old man laying on the floor breathless was making your hair stand on end. However, once you got there and put the lights on, you realized there was no one there. The kitchen was completely empty, dust gathering on the top of the counters and in the corners of the room. It looked like no one had been there for at least a couple of days. Were you mistaken? No, it couldn’t be, you heard that sound, it woke you up, for God’s sake!

Immediately proceeding to the other rooms, you saw a blank expression on the face of the stranger wandering the corridor and realized no one was in the apartment at all. How could it be?

“See, he didn’t return yet.” The man said as you turned to him, perplexed and not really understanding what was happening here. “There was no banging, I didn’t hear anything but you, actually.”

“No, it can’t be.” You put a hand on your forehead, deciding whether you had been hallucinating from the heat or the man was simply lying to you. “I... I’m sure I heard something. Could it be the other neighbor?”

“There are no other neighbors. Just the old man and me.”

___________

You tried forgetting about that night, still shivering from the thought you could easily die if you didn’t wake up. The kettle was destroyed along with your stove, and dad sent you some money to get a new one once he heard you crying over the phone. He promised not to tell about this your mom - she would definitely either faint or have a real heart attack.

The old man came back home a few days later just like Bucky, the guy you met that night, told you. He was perfectly alright, still in his snarky mood though. You decided you really heard that knock in your dream, otherwise the only way to explain what had happened was if thieves got inside old man’s apartment, but it was ridiculous. Bucky’s flat was certainly too far for you to hear the sound so clearly, too.

When you told Alex the story, he took the whole other direction, watching you wide-eyed and telling you it was certainly the spirit of James waking you up and saving you from such stupid death. In the end, that time you had been in the middle of commemorating your dead classmate. He certainly didn’t want you to die the same day as him. Maybe he was even grateful to you for remembering him.

Well, whatever. Despite you actually getting nervous because of Alex’s words, you decided it didn’t matter. You were safe. Now you just had to take care and never drink anything alcoholic at all. And never switch off the lights when your stove was on.

The next week you spent trying to forget about this story, working like a horse and taking extra hours just not to return home to your empty apartment. You were going to spend the weekend at your parents’ place for a change, but on Friday the last minute when you already wanted to depart Alex suddenly showed up at your door with a bottle of vodka, pack of ham and some sliced bread in a plastic packet.

“Are you mad?” You raised your eyebrows at him, angry he brought a bottle when you explicitly told him you weren’t drinking anymore. “What is this?”

“That’s not for you.” Your friend brushed it off as if it didn’t matter. “We have to visit Barnes’ grave.”

“Wait, what?”

“We need to visit his grave.” Alex repeated to you angrily, shoving a pack of ham into your arms. “I talked to the priest, and he said we need to go visit boy’s grave. It’s a must!”

You rolled your eyes at him, not even knowing how to react. Clearly, your friend has lost his mind.

Surprisingly, Alex was so pushy you couldn’t get him out of your place until you agreed to go to the graveyard with him and pay your respect to your classmate. Alex was absolutely sure the boy had saved your life, and it was disrespectful towards him to just leave things as they were. You agreed only because your friend had promised to bring you to your parents with his car.

Once you bought a couple of red carnations, the two of you headed to the graveyard, passing a small church and stopping the car right in front of the large iron gates. Nervously looking at them, you wrapped your coat tighter around your body trembling from cold, glancing at Alex in that stupid fur hat of his.

“Come on, it won’t take long.” He said, catching a sight of you. “I know the place. Let’s just go clean the grave, leave flowers and vodka, and then go. It’s the least we can do.”

Huffing and puffing with irritation, you got up from your seat and left his old car, a pack of ham still in your hands along with carnations. It was ridiculous, but, well, cleaning someone’s grave wasn’t a bad thing, really. You wouldn’t be surprised if James’ parents moved to some other place after that terrible incident, and his grave could be deserted after all these years.

Clenching carnations in your hand, you followed Alex into the gloomy graveyard, looking at old rusted crosses and new shining ones, moss-covered gravestones and a couple of monuments made by some rich citizens for their beloved who had passed away. You didn’t like coming to this place - it felt like it had always been cold here even in the hottest day of the year. Now, in the middle of February, it was freezing.

“Just a few more meters!” The man in front of you said, gesturing somewhere to the left where there were much less graves. “It should be here.”

Furrowing your brows, you kept walking, looking at the grey gravestones and looking for a familiar name. Not this one... not that one either... those two weren’t what you needed...

You bumped into Alex all of a sudden as he froze in place, and you snapped at him, “What the hell man? Why are you standing here?”

But he didn’t reply to you, gesturing somewhere to the right side of the path, and you stilled on your spot, too, looking at the destroyed grave with a broken tombstone laying in the snow. A little iron fence around it was torn apart, and it even looked like someone tried digging the grave. As you got a bit closer, you read “James Buchanan Barnes” on the broken stone and clenched Alex’s hand in yours, afraid to make one more step. God, who did that? What monster could destroy a grave, much less the one of a poor boy who died so young?

It looked so horrible there was no reason to attempt cleaning this mess. This place certainly needed a renovation, but you didn’t even know if you were allowed to do it since you weren’t James’ relative. God, why no one tried doing something with it? Did his parents really leave the town?

“That’s not good.” Alex suddenly said, his face getting extremely pale. “Oh shit, this is not good at all.”

“Of course, it isn’t.” You shook your head, still unable to believe your eyes. “What kind of bastard do you have to be to do that? Let’s go ask a supervisor what has happened here.”

When you found the man cleaning the path on the other side of the graveyard, he told the two of you it was a very odd story when somebody destroyed a boy’s grave, going as far as ruining his tombstone and even digging up the coffin. Well, of course, from time to time some vandals would show up to make a mess, but it had never went further than painting a few tombstones. Besides, only James’ grave had been destroyed, all the ones close to him were left in the same state as before. Why? Why targeting a grave of some poor drowned boy? The supervisor thought someone decided that his parents put something very valuable into the grave, provoking a thief to act, but the strangest thing was that the coffin turned out to be completely empty. The corpse had never been found as if it had never been there at all.

Did they bury an empty coffin? If the body had been destroyed or not found at all, there was nothing odd in that, but the supervisor swore the coffin wasn’t empty when he had been helping bury the boy. It had been such a tragedy when it happened, he said, adding he remembered that day well: the town you lived in was small, and the death of a child was a big thing here.

What happened to James’ body? The supervisor didn’t know. By the end of the story he was talking in a hushed voice. On the other hand, Alex was so pale as if he saw a ghost.

You spent time crossing the graveyard in complete silence as you processed the words of an old supervisor. What a cruel thing it was, to stole a corpse of a 14 year old kid who had done nothing wrong in his entire life. You couldn’t comprehend the reasoning behind this act: what, when the thief found nothing in the coffin he decided to take a corpse and throw some punches at it? God, it was disgusting. You really hoped that person was already in prison.

“Listen, I need to go and see the priest.” Alex mumbled to you in the car, and you realized he was trembling a little as if the thing he saw was too much for him. “That’s a very, very bad thing. I'm not sure Barnes’ soul rests in peace.”

“Alex, please.” You rolled your eyes, eating a piece of ham you were intended to leave on the grave. What, did you friend was really going to talk about ghosts after all he saw? He should have been worried about the thief destroying people’s graves. “You’re too superstitious. Of course, he rests in peace! His grave has nothing to do with it, but we really need to contact the administration, make them repair the place and found the bastard who did this. It’s inhuman to leave it like that.”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” The man on the driver’s seat shook his head disapprovingly. “What if James is still here, unable to continue his path? What if his ghost still wanders this place after all these years? Fuck, he certainly isn’t good anymore.”

“Alex-”

“No, can’t you see? That time when you fell asleep with your stove one... What if he didn’t save you but tried to kill you when you commemorated him that night?”

__________________

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