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minsyal · 3 years

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The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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FIRE AND ICE PART THREE - THE END OF IT ALL

Cassian wasn't at the house when you flew back the next morning. Feyre met you in the dining room though, giving you an easy smile and offering you a cup of tea. You took it, hoping she didn't say anything about your puffy eyes. She kept it light, casual. You asked about her painting and summoning wings which she laughed and said "Both could use some work."

Feyre was a constant that you appreciated. She was safe, and tolerable. Like how Mor was, but you felt like you could trust her more. Mor usually lost herself once a week at Ritas. You didn't want any secrets spilling out there by accident.

"If you need me, you know I'm here." She said, tone more hushed and serious now. You could only manage a small shake of your head. You didn't have the heart to say you preferred to suffer in silence. The thought of her reaction made you smile. It put on a good enough show, she smiled back and you felt less guilty without saying anything. You made for your room, trying your best to lull the dull aching in your body from sobbing through the night.

Azriel hadn't left your side the whole time. He didn't say anything besides shushing you when you began blaming yourself for everything falling apart. He had only given you a small wave when you took off together. He flew the opposite way, towards Illyria. You felt colder once he'd left. You didn't know why. You hoped you hadn't scared him off.

You fell into bed with no grace, and were asleep quickly among the fluffy pillows and soft blankets. Cassian's scent lingered on the pillowed side he claimed when he slept there. You turned away from them, curling in on yourself on the opposite side.

Dinner with the entire inner circle the next night wasn’t going to be fun.

You didnt talk to Cassian the entire day. You waited for your moment to strike at the dinner. And it made it all worth it just to see his face as you said what you’d been planning all night. “I’m leaving for Illyria in the morning.”

Azriel choked on his wine. Mor’s fork clattered to her plate loudly. Az's eyes were wide, and stared at you with worry. Rhys was calm, maybe a bit too much. You checked your mental shields to make sure he was kept out. They held strong.

“Seeing as I lack the proper training, I will be seeking it out at the war camps.” You then met Cassian’s wide eyes. His shocked stare made you smirk at him bitterly.

“They will clip you.” Az’s voice was little more than a whisper. The thought of it had scared you, yes. But you figured if you were a good enough fighter for the three most powerful Illyrians in history, then you were good enough to take on the likes of Devlon.

You said nothing to Azriel’s grim words. The tension in the room came to a head when Cassian shot out of his chair, knocking it backwards. “You will not.” He growled. Az’s shadows curled like thick smoke around him, and Rhys tensed.

“Why shouldn’t she?” Feyre asked, eyes narrowing at Cassian.

“She dosent know-” Cassian began dismissing.

“I know perfectly well what could happen.” You said with deadly calm. There was a long strained silence after your words. You could practically hear Cas’ teeth grind together.

“Leave us.” Cassian’s tone was an order. The room was deathly silent. He didn't break eye contact with you, just waited for the others to leave.

Mor glanced to Rhys. Feyre’s slight glare did not leave Cassian’s tensed shoulders. Rhys stood slowly, giving the group a gesture. They rose, Azriel last. Then Rhys winnowed them away.

"If it makes you see me as strong I'll train with them."

"You'll be clipped the second you land." His words sent a thrill of terror through you.

"What do you propose instead? I will not stand by for your protecting."

"Just make this easy... please." He leaned against the table, exhausted with the fighting. "Dont go there. Even if it means.."

"If it means I can't be with you?" You interjected. The entire world seemed to still. You stopped breathing. They seemed to echo through the dining space. The wind did not make the curtains bellow in the welcoming way they usually did. Your heart slammed in your chest, waiting for his reply.

It was a long wait. But finally - “So you’re leaving me?” He asked, voice rough.

“It seems you give me no other choice. You cant keep treating me like I’m your paper doll, Cassian.”

The words stung more when they actually came out, instead of the reherals you’d done in your head. They made your throat go tight and your hands shake. You loved him. You knew that. He knew that. But you loved your independence from him more.

“I just-” He held his head in his hands, his face going red. “I need you.” He sighed.

“Then be with me!” You were reaching the end of your rope. Your ability to keep going through this with him was wearing thin. This dance of ‘I love you ‘ and ‘prove it’ was ending. You could feel it, as sure as winter was in the air.

His shoulders shook. Then, you realized he was sobbing. You clamped down on the urge to comfort him. “If leaving you is going to keep you from going to that camp…” He regained his composure. When he finally looked at you again, his eyes were red. His voice shook, “Then at least give me a kiss goodbye.” His lips trembled as he said the words.

The truth of the situation snapped into place. This was it. This was the only conclusion that would have been made, in the end. Your stomach twisted and flipped in all sorts of new ways. Seeing him so weak, so defeated like you’d never seen before made your mind spin. One of the strongest Illyrians ever was crying… over you. One of the best males you’d ever met was there crying… because you both knew the ending to your story together.

You couldn’t handle it anymore. The floodgates broke and you were sobbing, in his arms in an instant.

=====================

The next week went by incredibly slowly. You remained nearly catatonic the first two days. Only getting out of bed to use the bathroom. Feyre visited, tried to talk to you. But without you answering back, she went to reading at the couch next to the side of the bed. You turned away, trying not to stare at the pillows scattered on the opposite wall. All the ones Cassian had ever touched - anything that smelled remotely of him.

==========================

Mor finally forced you from bed. Getting up was much much harder than it sounded. She prodded you into getting dressed, and eventually got you down to the city streets for some ‘quality time with the real world’.

“Cassian will-”

“Cassian isn’t here. It’s about you right now.” She flicked hair from her face. Your mind ran wild. Wasn’t here?

“What do you mean?”

“Rhys took him to the continent for some boy time. Az went too. My guess is so that Cassian can’t destroy any buildings in Velaris while he’s on his bender.”

Guilt was the last nail in the coffin. You stood in the middle of the busy sidewalk, not caring that other Fae bumped into you or gave you dirty looks. “I need to apologize..” You managed through the tightness in your throat.

“No- no no no, hey.” She took your hand and started pulling you along again. You fought away the tears that stung your eyes. They were cool when you blinked them away, the cold nip in the air numbing your face enough so you didnt feel the corners of your eyes beading with the tears.

“We are going to have fun. You’re coming to Rita’s with me.” She shimmied her hips as you followed her down the familiar alleyway. “Is this really a good idea?” You sighed, offering the door keeper a silver coin. The male nodded and gave you a wolfish grin as you passed him by.

Mor paused in the doorway and eyed up the lights, the dancers on stage. “This is a perfect idea. Trust me.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You lost yourself in dancing and drinking. It felt so good to let go. Mor kept a watchful eye on you the entire night, but still had fun. She brought you drinks when you were nearly empty, keeping you fueled.

You stumbled out close to dawn. Mor winnowed you to a nearby rooftop. You spun, your head swimming in alcohol. "Easy..." She steadied you, holding your arm tightly. You didnt know when your thoughts became your speaking voice, but she was replying to you. You blinked at her slowly, the buzz of the alcohol making you slow and sleepy.

"This is all a mess. I love him, but Azriel just..." You ran your hands through your greasy hair. You couldnt remember the last time you'd bathed. Mor gave you a grim smile. "I know... I've had to make similar choices." She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed slightly.

You didn't particularly want to think of her with the same male as you. Or the fact that Azriel had pined after her for so long. Or that she and Cassian definitely had a similar history. You hoped you didn't utter the words to her though. Mor was your friend.

"They are both special males. You need to make the right choice for you though." She pulled you down to the cold rooftop. You knocked your head a bit too hard on the ground, making her choke back a laugh. "It is your life that you decide. Not theirs, they will make their choices." Her hand squeezed yours reassuringly. The stars above shimmered and lulled you

You couldn't bear to speak with her pulling you apart with her words. With all the truth in the world hiding behind her eyes- buried in her soul. All the answers you knew you didn't want to know right now.

So you let yourself fall into the darkness that bordered the stars, drifting to sleep easily.

You avoided the Illyrian males as best you could when they returned. You spent most of your time either asleep in your room after drinking, sparring with Feyre or at Ritas. It was a cycle you grew very accustom to. It worked. It kept your mind off him. Off of the heartbreak.

Mor couldn't drink with you the next week. She had 'important business' in the Hewn city or something similar. So you walked to Rita's alone, sat at your usual table and watched the dancers. By your fourth drink you had joined them. You threw yourself into the delight of drink and merriment with strangers. Various hands caressed your body, the group writhed with you. A living being on the dancefloor, all moving together.

It made you feel whole again. You didn't have to think about Cassian's words, or how he thought you weak. Didnt have to think about the pain you caused him. The worries slipped away with each drink.

You were escorted to the street by a bouncer, along with a few other fae that had been a bit too rowdy. You couldn't hear what was said but it sounded something like 'go home'. You sat on the sidewalk, taking a moment for yourself. The stars above were shrouded by a cover of fog. It would be a cold morning. You could feel it in your wings, the soft leather was raised with goosebumps.

"I've been waiting for you." The voice was familiar, but it took you a moment to put your finger on it. Azriel. You grinned at him, wobbling when you took your eyes off the stars. His eyes seemed darker than usual, those shadows of his sluggishly crept around him. Around both of you, you realized when you felt them creep up your legs.

"Why didn't you join me?" You slurred, shooing his tendrils of darkness off of you. They skittered back to his shoulders, wrapping over him like a coat. His face went a bit flushed at whatever they returned to him.

He held a hand out to you, offering to help you up. "Rita's isn't exactly my style." He grinned, hauling you to your feet with his scarred hands. They were remarkably soft, and warm. You hadn't expected the welcome heat from them against your chilled fingertips.

"Then what is, shadowsinger?"

His gaze was long and full of questions. "I can show you another time. Let's get you back." He walked you to the middle of the street and took off with you gently, getting you used to flying again. He supported you the entire way, you knew you were drifting. He didn't say anything about it, just corrected and pointed to the landing when you were nearing. He landed first, and caught you when you nearly fell on your face from your rough landing. He couldn't hide the amusement. "Shut up." You shoved him slightly.

"Do you want me to put you to bed?" He asked, not condescendingly like the words suggested. But genuinely. It made your heart stutter. You stammered - "Ah, no.. No I know where it is." You began walking that way.

"I hope so." He watched you go down the hall. Then, once he heard your door click shut (A bit too loud for normal) He took off again, into the night sky.

#CASSIAN X READER #AZRIEL X READER #ACOTAR FIC #READER X CASSIAN #READER X AZRIEL #FIRE AND ICE FIC

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harry-writings · 4 years

Text

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man

Masterlist

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together, spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken.

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her. But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #divorce series

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shotofire · 3 years

Text

Adjusting

Jean Kirstein x F!Reader

I got a few Jean requests which i’m super happy about :)) so I decided to sorta combine them, enjoy! (I had SO much fun writing this)

Overview: How you and Jeans lives are going in Marley

Warnings: Cursing, slight nsfw, anxiety

Season: 4

Things are different, to say the least. Marley seems more like ‘Paradise Island’ than your home did. There’s no constant fear of death here, no scraping for food, it seems like everything your people wanted and deserved. Yet you were still considered a devil, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. It’s nice here but you still can’t help but envy it, and long to wipe the smile off these heartless people’s faces.

The time you’ve been here has completely lost tract, you can’t even recall the first day. Jean has been by your side since the beginning, helping you remain calm. There are many moments where you want to yell or call out someone disrespecting your home, but you’ve had to hold back. It really pissed you off more than anything else you’ve ever dealt with.

“Don’t let their ignorance get to you, doll,” he’d said as tears built in your orbs. It was earlier on since you two had gotten there, and you had to hear the harsh words for the first time. The person wasn’t even talking to you, but the terms were technically still about you and everyone you cared for. “How can so many be so oblivious?” His lips traced your neck from behind, leaving soft kisses that had your body melting. “Remember you’re better than them.”

You long to go back home, but you know your time here has not yet received a due date. There’s no telling how prolonged this mission will be. The little town home you and Jean are staying at is pure filth, you wish Levi could be here to make it spotless. Thankfully most of your days together were spent moving around Marley gathering as much information as possible. You’d seen Reiner a few times, which scared the shit out of you.

Today was a somewhat normal day, and it’s beautiful outside. Your fingers are looped with Jeans as he buys a news paper. Not much has happened so far but it is still earlier on in the day. You enjoyed days like this, they were more calm and enjoyable. At this point you weren’t sure what else you and Jean could possible find out, the rest was basically left to Eren. The only thing you loathed about being here is your daily attire.

You constantly have to wear a skirt or a dress, which is totally not comfortable in this heat. “I’m hungry,” you mumble as you two walk away from the news paper stand. Jean’s hand gives yours a squeeze, “We will eat in a bit, okay?” You couldn’t help but let out a groan, you were starving from all the walking.

Jean doesn’t know who’s genius idea it was to send you two together. Sure you’d basically been a thing since you were teens but you still annoy each other like an old married couple. Then again he wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else, he just wishes you could be a little less whiny. “Doll, we’re going to get food. I just need to give a letter to Eren first, he has someone who can send them back home without it being checked.”

Your arms wrap around his waist and you lean into his side as your walk continues. “I just want to lay in bed all day, is that too much to ask for?” He chuckes while observing the cute pout on your face. “Sadly it is too much to ask for.” His arm comes to swing around your shoulders down to your middle, and he pats your hip with the newspaper. Anyone watching your current state would think you’re brand new lovers in the honeymoon stage, but this has been going on for years.

“I heard there’s a festival in a couple days, are we going?” He’d already heard about it and knew you’d be dying to go. But the thought of going was so overwhelming for him, he wasn’t even sure if he could handle it. That many people, so many unfamiliar faces, there’s no telling what could happen. “We’ll talk about it.” That always means no, and you can’t help but let out a groan.

The day goes on and you finally get food, which was better than anything you’ve ever had. Jean didn’t dig in like you however, he seems to have a lot on his mind. “Whats up with you?” You ask through a mouthful of rice, any other day he’d scold you for your bad manners but he wasn’t in the mood. Together you sat at a table for two at a eatery that is rather empty, only a few workers and even less customers. “Do you ever think someone else should be doing my job?”

You should’ve known he would be doubting himself by now. Your love always fails to see his potential and strength, and it breaks your heart. He eyes are fixed on the bowl in front of him, his appetite quickly vanishing. The man felt sick and disappointed in himself. So far he hadn’t found out or accomplished as much as he had hoped for, and is afraid that he’s letting his friends down. Afraid he’s letting you down.

“That’s a stupid question,” you scold him with a scrunched face, “of course not! You were sent here for a reason, we all believe in you. Hell, they believe in me!” Jean doesn’t say anything, only lets out a soft laugh at your words. “What are you thinking about?” You reach across the table to grab his fidgeting hands, “tell me, please.”

Brown eyes finally land on you. He finds comfort in your touch and soft voice. “Uh, I’ve just been doubting myself lately. I feel like there’s never much to write back about, like everything is just a repeat from the letters before. There’s just something telling me that I can do more, but I just haven’t figured it out yet.” In all honesty, you felt the same about yourself. This move was all so hectic and a lot to take in, and sometimes it felt like you could be doing more.

“I understand, you know I do. This was a lot for the both of us and you can always talk to me. Personally, and you know I don’t lie to you, I think you’re doing a damn good job. Our circumstances are shit and you’re doing better than expected under all the pressure, give yourself more credit!” Your hands are waving in the air wildly as you rant with pure love.

Jean’s teeth are sunk into his bottom lip trying to suppress his smile. Somehow you always know what to say, and he admires that so much about you. “I love you so much.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks and you show a big smile, “I love you more, idiot.” He gets up from his seat across from you, quick to find his way to your side. Strong arms swoop to pick up your frame, as if his new bride, and you let out fits of giggles.

“What are you doing?” You ask with bright eyes. The small amount of people inside are watching the scene with crazy looks on their faces, but neither of you give a shit. He carries you out of the place as you continue to laugh, and reach up to ruffle his locks a few times. The man manages to carry you all the way home, setting you on your feet infront of the door way. “You should do that more often, be my personal carriage.” “Wouldn’t you just love that?” Sarcasm laced in his voice.

He opens the door with a key, that never works the first time, before kicking the door open and grabbing onto you once again. Your body is thrown over his shoulder as he enters your temporary home, then closing the door behind him. “Put me down, you dummy!” He does as you ask, dropping you onto your shared mattress. The light of the moon shines through the window onto your smiling face, and Jean thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. An even better sight than the ocean.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that right?” His compliment sends butterflies to your stomach. Before you can answer his lips are connecting to yours in a loving kiss. Hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to his frame. You two stay like that for a moment, kissing and grabbing at one another like hungry hormonal teens who’ve never had physical touch.

Once his lips move to your neck your eyes open, and a small whimper slips from you at the feeling of his soft mouth. “Did my words cheer you up that much?” You ask with a smirk, and you’re answered with a bite to your nape causing you to yelp. His hands have moved under your long skirt now, palming at your thighs. This man will forever know how to make you feel good, it’s as if he has a magic touch. Scratch that, he does have a magic touch.

“Isn’t Eren-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he sucks at your collar bone, “Isn’t Eren supposed to be coming by?” Jean smiles against your skin, and he feels a shiver run through your body. “I guess we’ll just have to get started now, huh?”

A knock echos through the small home and you two scramble for your clothes. “Hold on!” You yell, and then accidentally fall over as you step into your skirt. Jean let’s out a snort at the scene, and you narrow your eyes at him, “I’m having trouble walking right now thanks to someone.” He smirks while buttoning up his shirt, “You weren’t complaining while I was doing it. I recall hearing a, ‘More Jean, please more!’” He mocks your words, in a high pitched voice, from the earlier events and you blush, but try to hide it with an annoyed look.

“Shut your trap and open the door.” He laughs and buttons the last of his shirt before opening the door. There stood Eren with a very knowing look on his face. The long haired man observes you two, and it’s very telling. Each of your manes are sticking in every direction, not to mention the room has that smell to it. “You knew I’d be here and you still couldn’t keep your hands off of each other?”

Jean’s face goes blank and so does yours, but it’s short lived before you’re letting out strings of laughter. He can’t help but smile as well, but his gaze is set on the floor to keep from further annoying Eren. “Oh cmon Eren, it’s a little funny.” He completely doesn’t agree with you, but you continue to giggle.

This has been a very long mission for Eren with the two of you. Atleast you both didn’t give a shit.

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Even teachers can be stupid

Prompt number: 6 “that was impressive”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Chubby!Bucky x reader (teacher au)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k (this is a lot longer than I originally planned. Whoops.)

Warnings: Insecure Bucky/ self deprecation based on chub. Brock Rumlow being the grade a asshole that he is. Swearing.

A/N: I apparently only write for Bucky now, lmao. I think I liked this one more in my head.

Teaching high schoolers isn’t easy; trying to teach thirty plus rowdy students six times a day for forty-five minutes each is quite possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. As they say, the rewarding things are rarely easy. Each year you get one or two students that are truly affected by your teachings, inspiring them for life. And that makes all the late night grading and putting up with bad behavior worth it.

What helps you get through each painstakingly long day is the lunch break you share with your best friends, and fellow history teachers; Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steve teaches U.S. history, Bucky teaches world history, and you teach civics. Some days you talk about your students, others you talk about some tv show one of you watched the night before, and sometimes you each ask advice on questions for the tests you're writing.

“Peter Parker was attempting to flirt with MJ in the middle of my class today,” Bucky shares, making the three of you laugh. Peter Parker and MJ are both extremely smart, taking all three of your guys’ classes. Peter’s adorable, but you’ve seen how bad his flirting can be when he was into another student Liz a few years back.

“Are we surprised he was flirting?” Steve cackles at his own joke before he can even finish it. “Tony is his mentor after all.”

You and Bucky join Steve in his laughter, you glance at the brunette admiring the way his smile lights up his whole face and the cute jiggle the little bit of gut he has does. You can feel Steve’s knowing smirk as he notices your lovestruck gaze, he’s been teasing you relentlessly for the past two years about the feelings you so obviously have for his childhood best friend.

“What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N/N)?” Bucky asks, but before you can respond someone cuts in.

“She’s gonna be with me this weekend, tubby,” Brock smirks cockily, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“In your dreams Rumlow,” you grit out, removing his hand from your shoulder and scooting closer to Bucky.

Brock Rumlow; gym teacher, the office flirt per say, he grew up with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn and bullied the blonde the entire time they’ve known each other, and overall grade A asshole. He also clearly doesn’t understand the word no, you’ve rejected him at least twenty times in the two years he’s worked here with you and yet he never leaves you alone.

“You’re already in them gorgeous,” he winks at you, Bucky’s hands curl into fists under the table. He’s fighting the urge to finally let go and punch Brock in the face, like he did countless times growing up when he’d pick on Steve.

“You’re revolting,” you glare at him, turning to face Bucky you smile warmly at him. “I’m probably just going to grade some papers, drink some wine and eat some ice cream. Why, what’s up?”

“I well,” he eyes Brock, who’s hovering just behind you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

“Like a date?” your eyes light up with hope, reaching forward you grasp his forearm.

“Yeah,” he smiles bashfully at the floor, before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking Wanda’s on Saturday, I’ll meet you there at seven?”

“Perfect,” you beam at him, squeezing his arm lightly. “It’s a date.”

Bucky excuses himself not long after the interaction, needing to go make some copies before the next period. He gives your hand a quick squeeze with the parting words, “I’ll see you later, doll.” You grin like an idiot watching him leave the breakroom, Steve watching the both of you with a large grin.

“Well, that was impressive,” Brock takes Bucky’s recently abandoned seat, grabbing the legs of your chair and pulling you into his side. “I even believed you for a second, having the poor fat ass think you actually want to go out with him. You’re totally gonna stand him up, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you stand from your seat, Brock’s hold on the chair keeping you from moving it away.

You create a fist with your hand, hiding it behind your back so Brock doesn’t see how much he riled you up. You absolutely hate how he speaks about Bucky, focusing his attention on the few pounds Bucky’s gained over the years you’ve known him. Admittedly Bucky did have abs when you met him, having done boxing almost his entire life, but work started to swamp him and he couldn’t make it to the gym like he used to putting a few pounds on. But you like the little bit of chub more than the abs, there’s something undeniably hot with his body, especially when he’s confident in it.

“You think Sam would give him some exercises to do or something,” Sam Wilson, another gym teacher and fellow friend.

The legs to Steve’s chair screech as he stands and gets ready to lunge across the circular table. You put your hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from doing something he’ll regret, or at least keep him from doing something that’ll get him arrested. You glance at the door to the breakroom thinking you hear footsteps in the hallway, but no ones there when you look.

“Shut the fuck up Rumlow,” both men’s eyes widen at you, you’re normally calm and collected when he pisses you off. The few teachers in the room with you watch on quietly, some in awe that you’re finally going to tell the asshole off, and the rest just happy that someone will finally knock Brock down a few pegs. “I can handle your constant flirting when I’ve asked you multiple times to leave me alone. But I won’t sit here and let you be an ass to James. He’s the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever met, and I won’t allow you to say what you want about him unchecked. He makes you feel small-”

“Yeah, cause his gut is so fucking huge,” he laughs, looking around the room to find a colleague to agree with him but no one does.

“Shut. Up. Rumlow.” with each word you take a menacing step towards him. “You’re an ass to him because you know he’s better than you in every way. He’s kind, smart, sweet, thoughtful, and handsome. Everything you aren’t. So fuck off and leave his name out of your mouth. Or next time I won’t hold Stevie back, in fact I’ll join him in beating your ass.”

You’re about to leave when you notice Bucky left his travel mug on the table, grabbing it you head to the social studies office. Upon arriving you see that the copies Bucky needed to get are sitting on his desk, which is beside yours, but there’s no Bucky in sight. You let out a small sigh, you wanted to see him one last time before class starts.

At the end of the day Bucky isn’t waiting in the office for you and Steve like normal, instead his bag and jacket are missing from his desk. Maybe he’s nervous about the date, you think to yourself. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t be waiting for you. You try texting him a few times the rest of the night, only to be met with radio silence. You text Steve and ask him if he's heard from Bucky, and apparently he’s only receiving one word answers.

The next day you start getting ready for your date at three in the afternoon, it’s way too early but you want to look perfect for him. You spend an hour and a half trying to figure out your hair, an hour on your makeup, and two hours trying on every single thing in your closet. You finally settle on a lace royal blue dress, it has a v-neck and cap sleeves. It’s Bucky’s favorite color.

You leave your house at six thirty, arriving at Wanda’s a little early. But you don’t care if you seem eager, because you are. You finally get to go out with James! Bucky’s never late, so when seven comes and goes and he’s not there you’re shocked. You sit at your table like a fool until eight-thirty, the hostess and your waiter giving you looks of pity. James stood you up.

You spend the rest of the weekend sulking and eating lots of ice cream. You fall further behind on your grading but you don’t care, Bucky hasn’t reached out to you. You refuse to text or call first, expecting him to call and apologize profusely and say there was some mix up. But he doesn’t and he won’t.

You arrive at work on Monday right before first period starts, you know it’s unprofessional but you don’t know if you can face Bucky yet. When third period rolls around, which you have off, you head to Steve’s room to talk to him. His students are taking a test that period, so you know he can step away. You lightly knock on the door, opening it so you’re half in the room and half in the hall.

“Sorry for interrupting you guys, you smile at his students who looked up from their test to see who was at the door. “I need to borrow Mr. Rogers for a minute.”

“Get back to work,” he tells his students, though his gaze remains on you. “And eyes on your own paper Flash.” You step back into the hall, Steve soon joining you and shutting the door so no nosey student can over hear.

“Have you talked to Bucky?” you ask him nervously.

“That’s why you pulled me out of class?” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and leans on a set of lockers. “To talk about your date?”

“He stood me up Steve,” tears start to make their way to the surface, you thought you had cried all of your tears this weekend, but apparently not.

“What?” Steve’s in shock, he can’t believe that Bucky would do that. “There has to have been some mistake.”

“I looked like an idiot!” you whisper shout, mindful that Bucky’s classroom is next to Steve’s. “I was sitting there waiting for an hour and a half before the pity from the employees became too much to handle and I went home. He never called me, never texted. Stevie, I don't know what I did.”

The talking in Bucky’s classroom stops, footsteps growing near the door. Bucky opens it a crack, but you can’t bear seeing him so you stare at your feet and the gross linoleum under them. He tells his students to read ahead without him, stepping out and shutting his door behind him.

“I thought I heard voices out here, did you two need something?” Steve’s brows furrow at how cold Bucky’s being, he usually loves when you interrupt him and his class.

“No,” Steve says slowly, glancing between the two of you.

“Anyway, thanks for the help Steve,” you force a fake smile. “I should get back to the office and grade some papers I didn’t get to this weekend.”

“(Y/N/N)!” the blonde calls quietly after you, turning to Bucky with a small frown. “What the hell were you thinking standing her up?”

“I didn’t stand her up, she stood me up,” Bucky glares down at the tiles.

“What are you talking about?” Steve can’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his best friend's mouth. “She waited over an hour for you to show, Buck. And you never did.”

“Why would she want to date me?” he gestures to himself, eyes lingering on his own gut. “I heard Rumlow say it was fake and she was going to stand me up.”

“And you believed that?” Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “She threatened to beat his ass for talking shit about you Buck. you need to fix this, she’s crushed.”

Steve walks back into his classroom, leaving Bucky alone in the hall with his racing thoughts. He has to make it up to you! How could he hurt you? How could he believe anything Rumlow said? This goes to show that even teachers can be stupid. You’re his best girl and he hurt you, how’s he supposed to make it up to you?

You and Steve sit quietly in the breakroom at lunch, he’s eating and you’re trying to make some headway in your grading. Bucky hasn’t come to lunch yet, you’d love to say you haven’t noticed, but you're painfully aware of the empty seat to your right, the one Bucky always occupies. You write a big fat C in red ink on the essay you just read, it should be a C- but Ned is a smart kid and you don’t want to drop his GPA even more because of one poorly written paper.

A body slumps in the chair beside you, you ignore it assuming it’s Brock. You don’t have the energy for him and his bullshit today. A cheesy heart shaped box of chocolates is set onto the essay you just started reading. You finally look up and see a frazzled looking Bucky in his seat, He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a nervous grin on his face.

“I fucked up-” he starts.

“You don’t say,” you move the box of chocolates off the paper to start reading it again.

“I overheard Brock the other day saying you were going to stand me up,” he rushes out, your gaze meeting his as he continues. A proud smile on his face about the next sentence, “Steve already told me that you threatened to beat Rumlow up for me. But that’s not the point. I thought you were going to stand me up, so I didn’t want to give you that satisfaction so I never showed up.”

“Why would I stand you up?” you ask slowly, eyeing the flower stems you fear he may crush out of nerves.

“Because I look like this,” he admits quietly, using the flowers to gesture to his slightly protruding belly.

“I love how you look Bucky,” you grab the flowers and set them on the table, grabbing both his hands in yours. “It’s incredibly sexy, you’re sexy. Especially when your sleeves are rolled up and your tie is loosened. I love you James, your personality makes it impossible not to.”

“You love me?” he lets go of one hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek.

“Of course I do,” Steve leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face, his best friends finally got their shit together.

“Let me make it up to you tonight! I can make us dinner and we can stay in. Or I can take you anywhere you want to go. We can go bowling, or see a movie-”

While his rambling is adorable, you cut him off with a soft kiss. It’s not as long or as passionate as either of you would like, but you have an audience of coworkers and you don’t want to get carried away. Brock stomps out of the breakroom like a child when he sees you and Bucky.

“I love you too, doll,” Bucky admits dreamily.

permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

#miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanart #alix kubdel #bunnyx #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #half-reveal #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #elle writes #elle sketches #yccom

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ariparri · 3 years

Text

This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.

It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!

Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!

Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His Princess

"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."

With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke, "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.

As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."

Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"

"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.

After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted.

"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!

And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.

Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.

"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.

"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.

Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.

And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.

It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:

"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.

So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.

"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"

They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.

Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.

And now he had Veruca.

His little girl.

His princess.

Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.

The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.

#ariparri #elroy mcquaid #veruca mcquaid #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #fanfiction #hphm fanfiction #hphm fanart #hogwarts mystery fanart #jacob's sibling

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

A Dangerous Game

part 25

masterlist

Hello darlings! guess who finished her paper! This bitch! This one’s a little short again, my apologies, but we are inching ever closer to the inevitable for Y/N and Namjoon. Again, please take a look at the teasers for the hyung line. I would love to know opinions on who you all think I should write for next! Comment, ask, send me a message! I’d love to hear from you!-- chaotic puff

The next few weeks were oddly reminiscent of her first weeks at the estate. She was never alone. It was a though everyone around her thought she was going to break, and maybe she had. Her world had been turned on its head, and suddenly she felt every bit the fragile lady that Namjoon had made her out to be. Jackson’s betrayal had hit her hard leaving her far more listless than normal. It was as though all the fight had gone out of her. But just because she was listless, this did not mean that the estate was as well.

Everything around her was bustling in preparation for the upcoming wedding. Due to her “fragile” condition, Namjoon had taken all the planning in hand. There were a constant stream of his people going in and out of the estate. Cake tasting and floral arrangements, tuxedo fittings, and anything else you could think of. It was as though Namjoon was determined to have everything arranged as quickly as possible, before either she or GOT7 could change their minds. She doubted though that anyone changing their minds would stop him. He was a formidable man in more than one way she was finding. She didn’t think that she had ever seen a man take wedding preparations quite so seriously.

She didn’t know how he had the energy to do it all. He was running his criminal empire, planning a wedding, and he still found time to spend doting on her. She swore there was something new every day, flowers, deserts, jewelry, books. All the affection was a little smothering, and when Namjoon wasn’t with her one of his goons was. She had hoped Jungkook’s return would mean a return to his being her babysitter, but that was unfortunately not the case. She had a stream of different babysitters, the most daunting of whom was Hoseok.

While she had a preexisting dislike of Taehyung based on his being the one to place the anklet on her, and Yoongi was a decided grump, something about Hoseok unnerved her. The man was a ball of sunshine, most of the time. But there were moments where the sunshine faded away, and in its place was a darkness very much akin to Namjoon’s. At least Namjoon wore his darker nature like a second skin. He was a predator through and through. Hoseok’s darkness was hidden under a carefully cultivated layer of sunshine. If Namjoon was the wolf, then Hoseok was the snake hiding in the grass, and in this game she was only prey. With Namjoon she knew what to expect, but Hoseok was like a pipe bomb without a timer. You never knew when he was going to go off. Her discomfort didn’t seem to dissuade him from following Namjoon’s orders though. On days he was assigned to her, where she went, he followed to every fitting, cake tasting, and walk through the garden.

She was sitting in the garden basking in the autumn sun taking a break from the constant stream of wedding plans, completely exhausted. Luckily her guard for the day had to be the most laid back out of all of them. Yoongi was just as content as she was to bask in the sunshine doing nothing. If someone had told her that he was secretly a cat, she probably would have believed them. The man had a very feline quality to him, but she found him to be a very calming presence despite his grumpy demeanor. He spent the least time of all her minders treating her like a doll that would break if not handled with care.

“You’re getting married next week.” He pointed out as she waved off one of the maids telling her that her dress had arrived. “Shouldn’t you be more excited?”

“I would be, if I actually wanted to marry the man.” She scoffed taking a sip of her tea.

“You agreed to this.” He deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes leveling him a look that was just as deadpan as the one he was giving her. “That was before I found out Jackson was still in the mafia, and that sacrificing myself for him was useless, before his friends sold me off like it was the 1400s.”

“Want me to shoot him?” He asked taking a drink from his coffee. She could swear the man survived on coffee alone.

She laughed though it held no joy. It a bittersweet sort of sound. “Do you think it would help? Would it magically send me home or send me back in time to before I met Namjoon?”

“No.” He shrugged. “But I’m a really good shot.”

And he was. Yoongi was an excellent shot. She’d found out from Taehyung and Jungkook that Yoongi was a sniper, an assassin, a fixer. He took care of problems for Namjoon. If someone got on Namjoon’s bad side, Yoongi was the one that paid them a visit.

“You wanna marry Namjoon then? That would make me feel better.” He snorted shooting her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

She shivered as a stiff autumn breeze went through her. Almost immediately a maid was there offering her a shawl. She took it only because she knew that the maid was only trying to help. Namjoon had given everyone strict orders to take care of her which translated to the hovering she had been living with for the past few weeks.

“You could have all this. People waiting on you hand and foot.” She tried to convince him as she wrapped the shawl loosely around her shoulders only slightly annoyed that Namjoon had given one the maids a shawl to hover over her with that perfectly matched the dress that she had chosen to wear that day. He was annoyingly meticulous like that.

“They already do that.”

“Only ‘cause they’re scared you’ll break their kneecaps.”

“Too much effort.” He shrugged slouching down in his seat. “You should go try on your dress though. Namjoon will throw a hissy fit if it doesn’t fit, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“You and I both know that Jin or Hoseok would be dealing with that tantrum.” She reminded him. Jin and Hoseok were the poor souls to deal with the brunt of what could only be described as Namjoon’s pre-wedding jitters. She wasn’t supposed to know about them, but Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook had no qualms about complaining about their perfectionist boss and friend to her so she heard every detail of his almost manic pursuit of perfection for their wedding day.

“Think of Jin hyung.”

“Jin can give him a sedative and do us all a favor.” She hummed gently pushing herself out of her seat and moving over to examine the flowers that were in bloom. “Besides we both know that he wouldn’t allow the dress to be anything less than perfect. I’m pretty sure he threatened the poor seamstress with a bullet through her skull if she didn’t make sure everything was perfect.”

“If you took more interest in your wedding, maybe he wouldn’t be so stressed.”

“If I took more interest in this sham of a wedding, it would give him far too much pleasure.”

Yoongi chuckled finishing off his cup of coffee. “He’s excited to have a legal claim to you, can’t say that I blame him.”

“You want to marry me too, Yoongi?” She asked throwing him a coquettish look over her shoulder.

“No. You’re far too much trouble. But you’re good for him.”

“I’d stab him in a heartbeat given the chance, and you know it.”

“You already have.” He pointed out. “You weren’t aiming for him though. Planning to try again?” He inquired quirking a brow at her.

She was going to answer him, but a different maid made her presence known carrying in a bouquet of pink and white peonies. “Bu-in, the sajangnim sent these for you. Where would you like them?”

She sighed giving Yoongi a long suffering look before turning a tired smile on the poor maid. “Put them in the piano room please. I don’t think the bedroom has any more room for flowers.”

“Yes, bu-in.” She bowed scurrying away to place the flowers where she was directed to.

“You can tell your friend to stop sending gifts. I don’t have any need for diamonds, and if he doesn’t stop soon, we’ll be drowning in flowers.”

“Wait till the wedding. We’ll really be drowning in flowers then. Who knew Namjoon was such a romantic.”

“Romantic, psychotic, same thing.” She shrugged watching as yet another maid come out to tell her something. “Sajangnim has arrived. Would you like me to prepare a fresh pot of tea?”

“No. If he wants something he’ll ask for it. I’ll be in the piano room.” She sighed suddenly feeling more tired than before. “Would you like to come Yoongi? We can practice that sonata, and you can yell at me for messing up the notes.” She offered.

She’d found over the past few weeks that while Yoongi was a grump and Namjoon’s fixer, he was also an excellent pianist. They’d played a few songs together, but his skill far outweighed her own. More often than not he ended up scolding her for missing the rhythm or the notes or not placing her fingers correctly.

“That piano is wasted on you.” He grumbled.

“I’m aware, Yoongi. I’m aware.”

She headed towards the door knowing that Yoongi would follow shortly as Namjoon had yet to steal her away, and she wasn’t to be without a minder when Namjoon wasn’t present. The man had become more paranoid than normal ever since the incident, as he liked to call it. Before, her minders could give her a bit of space, but now space was a thing of the past.

Namjoon found them in the piano room playing the same duet that they had been practicing for the past two weeks. He didn’t even mind the sharp reprimands that Yoongi would snap at her, something he normally wouldn’t allow, because Yoongi had gotten her to play the piano again. She hadn’t touched the instrument since the incident, but Yoongi had gotten her to play again, unsurprising given the man’s talent for piano and the beautiful instrument that was at his disposal at the manor.

“Schubert again?” He asked remaining just outside the door. This was her space, and he was hesitant to invade it without her permission given the incident. He didn’t want anything to set her off again. He didn’t think he could handle another incident.

“Sonata for four hands ‘Grand duo’. It’s only the first movement though.” She responded with a slight smile while Yoongi grumbled at the interruption.

“She can finally play part of the first movement without it sounding like a toddler.”

She didn’t seem to mind the insult though choosing instead to lean her head on the man’s shoulder with a gentle smile. She never seemed to mind Yoongi’s more abrasive comments, and Yoongi never seemed to mind her more affectionate gestures. They all knew he was secretly a softy. She’d known that from the first time she’d seen him with Moni. The man was a sucker for dogs.

Yoongi shrugged her off and got up leaving without another word, leaving her alone with Namjoon who came to sit next to her on the piano bench.

“I see you got my flowers.” He mused while she hummed in agreement. “Play for me?” He asked, and she did.

part 26

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere #soft yandere #rm x reader #rm #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #a dangerous game #fanfic

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jaeminscoffee · 3 years

Text

Rock, Paper, Scissors? | D. SC

Pairings- Dong Sicheng x reader

Genre- Crack, fluff.

Warning(s)- it's a fluff blurb, i don't think there should be any warnings unless win² being shirtless for 0.2 seconds is considered nsfw 😹😹

Word count- 1.33k

Synopsis- The pair of you always made crucial decisions with a very important, accurate technique. Here, you had to decide who'd step out to bring essentials from the convenient store.

Type- Requested! (i'm sorry this is sucky and makes no sense. I'm writing this while my exams are going so, if anything, I'll try rewriting it after my exams! Let me know!)

@kpopscape

If anyone would ask you at the very moment why you were frowning hysterically, then you'd answer with two things.

'Oh it's just, my soon to be spouse is sprawled out shirtless in the living room with a tub of almost empty, still solid ice cream on his chest' then the person asking would answer with, 'oh? you've never seen him shirtless before?' then once again, you'd answer with,

'Oh no, I have. It's the fact that it's 9 degrees minus outside on a December night and everyone's dressed in comfortable onesies but then here's Sicheng, in nothing but his sweats'

"Win.. Are you, okay..?" you approach him cautiously, having changed into your nightwear while searching for the aircon remote , shuddering at the low temperature. "No I'm not, it's steaming here-hey! Give me that remote" His face contorts into that of when someone dips their sock clad feet in water.

"No? Also, wear a shirt! You'll catch a cold you twerp!" You push the approaching hand away, climbing onto the couch (well, on top of his feet because his titan self was occupying the entire place leaving little to no space for you to squeeze in) "Y/n, I love you and all but get off my feet! I'm sweating and it's sticky"

Your eyes widen at the slight warmth emitting from Sicheng's body, leaning forward immediately, placing the back of your palm flat on his forehead, "Do you have fever? How are you this warm?" you inquire, voice laced with concern. Sicheng let out a guttural groan, hitting your arms softly to make you move it, "I don't, doll. It's just really hot"

"Winwin, it's winter?? How's it hot for you?" You pull the hood of your nightwear up to cover your ears, rocking back and forth in an attempt to bring some warmth to your frigid body.

"You see, the practice went on for hours which had warmed up my body, to add on top of that, that stupid closed rooms aircon is broken. And then when I thought I would go to the boys' dorm, their aircon has been gone for repair for like, i don't know, ever since i can remember and my dumbass wore three layers of thick clothing. So, it's hot." Winwin concludes, reaching in to scoop some more of the cold food only to be met with the base of the tub he had on his bare chest.

"Urgh oh god I'm out of ice cream, great" he groans as you look at him with a sketchy expression, lowkey judging him and not trying to hide the fact. "Is that the pack of 4 that i bought two days ago?" you ask, letting your leg fall down from the couch and onto the floor as you slowly lift yourself up to stand again.

"Maybe? But Y/n I'm out of ice cream. Go get me some more, please?" he tried telling it in the most convincing tone he could muster, only to still get your bemused look. "No? Why would i do that??"

"I don't think you heard me right the first time, I am out of ice cream."

"I still don't see why i should go outside, alone, in this freezing cold weather, just to get you ice cream" you stand, folding your hands in front of your chest. "Because i could die of a heat stroke if you don't provide me with something cold"

"You could always go sit inside the freezer" you shrug, loving his constant expression change from the conversation you're having. "Besides, the most you could die of right now would be frostbite so go put on a tank top at the least."

"Y/n, pleaseee, I'm really tired to go out and in desperate need to eat something cold" Sicheng exclaimed dramatically, getting up to tower beside you. "Eat ice?"

"Just did before i took of the ice cream"

"Please?" He pleaded, with the softest puppy eyes he could possibly make, almost making you give in if it weren't for the sudden shudder you'd felt from the cold gust of wind flowing through the void of your living room.

"I would, Sicheng, you know I would. It's just too cold." you state, feeling bad for constantly saying no to him when he's been pleading from the moment you entered the room.

"You could still go, you know? It'll be perfect for you to go because it could help cool down your body" you shrug off

Now, if anyone asked you why you're wearing a foul, sore expression then all you'd do was flip them off.

You hated yourself for ever even second considering whether to go get him ice cream or not, you see, you did need some snacks to stack up and veggies and all that but you wouldn't have gone out this late to do so, especially not at a 24/7 seven-eleven store.

But you had to comply as Sicheng had the upper hand. All thanks to the stupid rigged game of rock, paper, scissor that you MOST definitely did not initiate. Well. You did. And now you're paying the price.

"There's no use fuming like that, you know?" Winwin pushes you to the side of the aisle to let a fellow shopper pass by with his shopping cart, while he bows down slightly to apologize at the unintentional death glare you'd given to him.

Yes, the deal called for the loser to go get the essentials and of course, whatever the other craved. Winwin expected himself to be the loser knowing his luck, but shockingly for the first time, he'd won three games in a row which ended up with you as the declared loser.

But Sicheng definitely was not going to send you out amidst the dark twilight, well, he did consider it, but his 'good boyfriend' etiquettes called for never letting you go into any situation that screamed danger. And walking outside, late at night, unarmed definitely seems dangerous and he wasn't about to take risks.

"Fuck off" you scheme through the ramen packets while trying to keep the material of your padded jacket close to emit warmth, any sort of warmth to keep you the slightest of frost free.

"Love you too. Anyways, I'll go get the drinks, rose milk for you, hm? Come find me there once you're done" he announced, getting ready to remove his wallet and get out the list he'd prepared for other needed items that aren't snacks.

"Oh? Y/n? What are you doing here this late at night?" You heard someone speak behind you, the voice loud enough to stop Sicheng in his track and make him look behind to see who recognized you through the layers of clothing you'd adorned.

"Yuta! Hey, yeah, just came out to get groceries, and ice cream because someone i know is a psychopath" you claim in a salty tone, making both the males chuckle while Winwin made his way back to you, recognizing the latter as someone who was in the same major as him back in the days.

"Who is that?" Yuta, a close acquaintance of yours inquired. Having known him for a very short time, you could only describe him as the life of the party. One who goes along with any jokes cracked by anyone, literally.

"Oh it's-" you look around you, finding Winwin a few yards away from you, as you walk towards him slightly, pulling him using the material of his t-shirt. "-Dong Sicheng, my ex-boyfriend" you smile, speaking through your teeth, while Yuta let out a loud laugh enough to grab the ones' near you guys' attention. "Doesn't seem like a psychopath to me"

"Y/n, you need to stop introducing me to people like that" Winwin sighs, only to break out into a given up smile as he looks at your puffed cheeks and furrowed eyebrows. Extending his hands forward, he corrected your description of him,

"Hi, I'm Sicheng, Y/n's fiancé"

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 1 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄

Summary: For as long as she can remember, Jan has been in love with her baseball teammate. The only problem is that he always likes an Angela, a Pamela, a Sandra or a Rita better… As years have gone by, she couldn’t get those feelings behind and as a college freshman, she starts noticing more and more things that set her apart from “the other girls”, the ones her crush seems to prefer. She can’t help but think that “maybe if she was prettier, maybe if she was more like them…” things would be different. However, the more she gets to know those girls she also realizes how wonderful they can be; especially a certain girl named Jackie who works in the copy room and who keeps helping Jan unconditionally.

A/N: hi! this is my second chaptered fic -I wrote a little note on ao3 in case the concept of the story sounds off for anyone- but still, I hope you like it and thanks for reading it <3

-Prologue-

When Jan turned ten –to her chagrin- she received a Barbie doll with a lovely dress full of ribbons as her birthday gift. Her older brother -whose birthday had been just two months ago- got a brand new baseball bat and even when she had begged for over a year she could get one, all she got was a plastic lady with blonde hair and pink lips that didn’t look like her at all. It wasn’t fair, she had to play with his worn-out chipping bat with sticky duct tape on the grip when she was way better than her brother. Why couldn’t she get a bat too?

Luckily, Jan being the stubborn she was, had a plan. If her parents weren’t going to gift her a new bat to play baseball, she was going to get it by herself. She spent all summer selling lemonade on her front yard to raise money –hey, if life gives you lemons…- delivering newspapers and doing some other little tasks in exchange for some coins. Even when she worked hard and put her heart into everything she did it wasn’t enough to pay the full. She was about to give up when her grandfather showed up with a late birthday present –a book with a couple of bills hidden inside- not only she could get that new bat, she also got a couple of new balls that had the other kids in the neighborhood green with envy.

Jan had always been the kind of kid that was restless in class, she was a chatterbox and often her teacher had to remind her to be sat during a lesson but in the sports field it was different, she could run, play and win games like no other and she was celebrated for that. She was better than most kids her age and her team had always emerged victorious when she batted, so yeah, baseball was a big deal for her.

It was also around the time she met Nathan.

He was the new kid in school who didn’t talk much with other kids but one afternoon her classmates had asked him to join their team. Jan, who was always picked first with her messy ponytail and bruised knees, didn’t consider that scrawny kid to be a threat. Yet, he proved her wrong as he was the first person to strike her out of a game in ages. Everyone was in disbelief. Jan was competitive and after that humiliating defeat, her new goal was to beat her classmate. The only problem was that he was better than she expected and it took her a while to match his skills.

And with the years, what had started as a rivalry became a friendship. Jan was the only girl in her class that didn’t mind playing in the dirt or hanging out with the boys all day. In high school, the difference was even more noticeable since she never felt she belonged with the other girls, and with her sports passion, she could get a college scholarship if she kept pushing and winning games. During the senior year, she couldn’t care less about proms and fancy dresses when she was just one step ahead of making her dream a reality, playing in varsity.

Nathan was already signed by a few schools as well and whenever he was going, she was going as well. Not only he was her best friend, she had developed a crush on him when they grew older, she knew many things could change in her life but he was a constant and she’d do what it would take to keep it like that. The only problem was that Nathan was a handsome guy and he always liked an Angela, a Pamela, a Sandra or a Rita better.

He couldn’t see that Jan was in love with him, not yet at least.

But if she could still be a part of his life in the years to come, that would be enough for her. She’d stay in the shadows until she got her shot and she knew the day would come. She only needed to be patient. He was going to notice her and he was going to realize she was the one for him, she had always been.

It was a joyful day when she got accepted into the same university with a partial scholarship –her parents could afford the other half- she was ecstatic, the little girl from New Jersey with a bat was now going to play in the girls’ team and even when she wasn’t going to be in the same team than Nathan, she was going to be close enough.

Yes, everything would work out.

-1-

College is hell.

That was the first thing she thought the first day of school, even after going through orientation, she didn’t seem to find any of her classes, the classrooms were in different buildings, her schedules were all wrong and on top of all, she hadn’t seen Nathan in all morning.

To make things even worse, around noon she got called by one of the secretaries of the administration center, apparently, there was a problem with her papers, one of her forms got lost in the mail and she needed to present it before the end of the day.

If only she could find the copy room to get that form…

She kept going up and down stairs without complaining until she found the room at the end of a deserted aisle. She got a soda from the vending machine outside and then got inside. It was almost lunchtime so most students were at the cafeteria, only one girl was getting some book pages copied and she was paying by the time Jan walked in.

“Have a nice day.” The person behind the counter greeted her.

It was Jan’s turn now.

“Hi!” She approached the counter. “I- uh, I need this form…” Where was the paper the secretary had given her? “Wait for just a second, I had it here.”

Jan knew she looked like a train wreck, she had her books and notebooks in one hand, the soda can in the other, she had to empty her pockets with a barely free hand and held her phone under her neck.

“Do you need a copy of the form H-23?” The girl from the copier asked.

“Uh… I think so… Yes!” She found the paper. “H-23… that’s the one.” She smiled brightly.

The girl from the copier seemed calm and collected enough to make Jan feel a little better. She had silky brown hair tied in a half-updo, chocolate eyes framed by a pair of glasses, a knitted mustard sweater with a shirt underneath, a platted brick skirt, and high brown boots. She looked like what a college student wants to look like, in full control.

She was also really pretty.

“You’re like the fifth person who came today asking for that form…” She said while pressing some computer keys to set the printer. “Many students had a problem with the mail system for what it seems.”

“Yeah… I got notified just now and I’ve been running around all day.” She put all her things in one hand and stretched the now free hand. “I’m Jan, by the way.”

“Jackie.” The other girl shook her hand. “You can put your stuff here on the counter if you want. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Ah, thank you.” She did as she said.

“Freshman?” Jackie asked raising an eyebrow.

“Is it too obvious?” Jan could feel her cheeks getting colored.

“Just a little… you look like you still have a soul.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” She smiled at Jan.

Jackie’s kindness made her feel warm inside. It had been a rough morning and for the first time that day, someone was being genuinely nice to her.

“Do you study here too?” Jan asked while the brunette stapled her papers.

“Yes, I’m an Art History major. Junior.”

“Oh wow, that sounds sophisticated.”

“Girl… it’s not… there’re a lot of white men and my mother surely would’ve loved me picking something more… profitable. What about you? Have you declared your major yet?”

Jan nodded. “Economics, kind of boring, I know…” She rested her elbows on the counter. “I’m actually here with a sports scholarship.”

“That explains the baseball shirt.” She pointed at Jan’s outfit.

“Right!” Jan instinctively touched the fabric of the shirt. “Go, team!”

Being completely honest, Jan had forgotten she was wearing that. Early in the morning, she was more worried about showing up on time to orientation –clearly in vain since she kept getting lost- and because of that she hadn’t put a lot of thought into her fashion choices, instead, she picked a black tank top, a pair of jeans, sneakers and the baseball jacket with her lucky number –eleven- on it.

“Are you this excited all the time?” Jackie handed her the form.

Jan’s face lost light suddenly. “Is that bad? Because I’ve been said that I can be too much sometimes and-”

“No! I didn’t mean… no.” The brunette moved her hands in the air frantically. “It’s refreshing. I don’t think I’ve met someone like you before.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She rummaged through her things until she found a couple of coins. “Here, for the form. Thank you so much for your help.”

She beamed and it was dashing enough to compete with the sun.

“T-Thank you.” Jackie stuttered while picking the money.

“I hope you have a nice day.” Jan slid all her things into her backpack.

“You too… see you around.” The brunette waved.

Jan copied the gesture and on her way out of the copy room she almost bumped into someone. It was Nathan.

“Hey!” She felt her pulse racing. “There you are! I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Janie! How are you doing?” He held the door open. “I’ve been around, you know? Getting used to all of this.”

“I know, right? I still can’t believe we’re here!” She couldn’t hide her enthusiasm.

Jackie, in the background, lowered her glasses and observed them in silence.

“I’m sorry I can’t chat right now, I need to get this form for the administration office and it’s a pain in the ass…”

“No way, they lost mine too… it must be New Jersey’s post service.”

“It really sucks. I better hurry up then or the place is going to get crowded.”

“Here.” She extended the paper without hesitation. “You can have mine, I haven’t filled it yet.”

“You don’t mind?”

The girl shook her head. “I can get another one.”

“Whoa, thank you, Janie. Wait, let me pay you.”

“No problem. You can give it back to me later.” She nervously touched her hair.

“Ah, I owe you one. Thank you. I was worried I wouldn’t get in time to have lunch. I just met the most gorgeous girl on campus, she’s stunning, I’m telling you and I was afraid I was going to miss my chance to speak with her because of this. You’re a great friend.” He patted her shoulder. “See you later.”

“Sure…” She mumbled.

He got out and closed the door without looking back.

With her slumped shoulders and drooping head, she looked back to where Jackie was.

“Do you think you could make another copy?”

The brunette who had witnessed the entire scene had her jaw clenched but she nodded and pressed print once again.

Jan shuffled back to the counter, she was grateful that the other girl didn’t say a word.

“Here you have, don’t lose this one.” Jackie smiled at Jan hoping that she could lift her mood a little bit.

“Thank you.” Her tone was barely audible. “I appreciate it.” She gave her some more coins and turned back.

Jackie knew she was going to regret it but she couldn’t let that girl go in that state of sadness. It wasn’t correct, it didn’t feel right.

“You know, I’m about to take my lunch break… would you like to join me?”

Jan looked at her for a moment that felt like an eternity.

“You don’t have to do it just because…”

“No, I don’t have to, I want to.” She assured.

“Okay…” She raised her voice a little. “That’d be nice.”

“Yeah. Nice.” Jackie grabbed her bag and held the keys of the room in her hand. “Let’s go.”

At that moment, a faint smile appeared on Jan’s face and Jackie knew for sure, she was going to regret this.

Freshmen were like little ducklings waddling around, imprinting on the first person who showed them a little affection –that was how they always ended up joining clubs and sororities on day one-, they were naïve, full of fears, expectations, and questions… they surely had a lot of questions. Jackie did her best to avoid them at least for the first couple of weeks. She was over the nervousness, the stutters, and sweaty palms –she had had enough during her first year.

However, this girl…

This one girl.

With her giant puppy eyes, her light brown hair falling all over her face whenever she tried to pick something that fell to the floor, the way she talked fast like she was going to forget what she was going to say if she didn’t say it quickly; she didn’t do it on purpose but a part of her body was continuously moving whether it was her fingers drumming on surfaces or her feet and she had this somehow chirpy personality even when odds weren’t on her favor.

Of course, Jan was straight. Jackie had seen it before, girls like that falling for douchebags and getting their hearts broken in multiple pieces. She saw it in her face on her body language when that guy showed up in the copy room, the way it was painfully obvious she was in love with him, and yet he treated her like a little sister taking advantage of her generosity.

She couldn’t just let her go back into the world like that, devastated.

The words escaped her mouth before she could give it a second thought.

And now she was having lunch with this girl, she kept explaining sports stuff to Jackie as if she had a clue what she was talking about and yet she listened to her because it was mesmerizing to watch.

“…that season was tight but we won within the last minutes even when the other team had their bases loaded.” She took a bite of her macaroni.

Her energies had been renewed the moment she started talking about baseball; she had listened to Jackie attentively when she explained the system of the cafeteria, how to activate and use her student card but the moment she gave her rise to talk about what she did before getting into college, she went directly to that point.

“Am I boring you? I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was talking too much I-”

“No! Please stop apologizing, it’s cool. I think it’s really cool that you’re… so passionate about something.”

“Really? I didn’t mean this to become a monologue, sometimes I get carried away.” She scratched the back of her head. “Anyway…”

Her gaze followed a figure in the cafeteria, it was the guy from before and he was having lunch with a large group of people but his attention was clearly focused on one girl next to him. Jackie noticed Jan taking a deep breath and then faking a smile trying to resume the conversation.

“What’s with that guy? Is he your boyfriend?” She asked, unscrupulous. Her salad was long forgotten in front of her.

“Nathan?!” She was like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh… He’s… he’s a friend from New Jersey. We used to play in the same baseball team until we got separated by boys and girls in high school.” She started blushing gradually until her face turned entirely red. “We’re friends, we have always been friends…”

Jackie arched an eyebrow. Interesting.

“So you like him.”

Now her face turned from red to burgundy.

“What?! No! I don’t… He’s… We’re… That’s ridiculous. I don’t like him he’s… a friend.”

The other girl didn’t say a word.

Jan sighed. “It’s never gonna happen… He just doesn’t think of me that way.” She looked at Jackie, there was something melancholic in her eyes. “I’m happy with being part of his life regardless.”

Something inside Jackie was shattered. She couldn’t help but feel deeply sorry for that girl who was hopelessly devoted.

“Jan, it’s not-”

But she was abruptly interrupted by the voice of another girl.

“Well, Miss Cox you didn’t tell me you were going to be here today.”

She didn’t even have to turn around to recognize who it was.

“Hello, Heidi.” She massaged her temples. “How are you?”

The girl didn’t wait and sat with them in a heartbeat.

“Betrayed, clearly. I just passed by the copy room and you weren’t there.” Her eyes moved to the girl in front of them. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?”

“Jan, this is Heidi… Heidi, Jan.”

“Heidi, nice to meet you. Jackie’s friends are my friends.” She extended her hand.

“Hi! I’m Jan.” The girl shook Heidi’s hand vigorously.

“Easy honey, I need that arm.”

Jan shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Jan is a freshman from New Jersey and she plays baseball.”

“Oh, that explains the inhuman super strength.” She moved her arm in circles to readjust it.

Jan giggled. “I don’t know my own strength.”

Heidi gave Jackie a look that the brunette ignored.

“Anyway, Jan, don’t forget to submit your form, the secretary can get really cranky if you find her on a bad day.”

“Oh, right! I still have to fulfill it.” She found a pen somewhere inside her backpack.

“Well, I’m going to leave you, ladies.” Heidi waved goodbye. “Jackie, I’ll drop by later I need some copies for Professor Brown.”

“Sure, my break is over in like ten minutes.”

“Alright. See you around.” She looked at Jan who was still going through the form. “Have a nice first day you…”

“Thank you!” She smiled and with that Heidi was gone. “I think I’m done.” Jan showed her form proudly.

“C’mon then, I’ll walk with you back to the office.”

“Oh my God. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I got lost so many times today.”

“Wait, didn’t you get a map and everything during orientation?”

“Yeah, but still… it’s very confusing.”

“Do you have it with you?”

Jan dug through her backpack once again until she got the binder with the things freshmen were given as their welcome package.

“Okay,” Jackie unfolded the piece of paper until it became five times its size. “give me a pen.”

The younger offered the same pen she was just using.

“You gotta have the important extra information they don’t give you. For example, these stairs…” She drew an x over them. “Are always full of people and if you’re in a hurry, I don’t recommend it… so instead, you get to use these.” She circled the point on the map.

Jan listened to every word she said.

“Now… this is where we’re heading, the administration office. You wanna know where it is because, if there’s any problem with your papers, you have to go there fast… best way to get to this building is passing by next to the library and using the elevator that will take you there directly. Do you get it now?”

“Jackie…” She reached for the brunette’s hands. “You’re the best… I could cry right now.”

“Please don’t…” Jackie said, flushed. She cleared her throat. “Do you think you could lead the way? The copy room is nearby.”

“I’ll definitely try.” Jan was excited.

She put all her things back in her bag and followed Jackie after leaving their trays and throwing the trash. As soon as they reached the hallway, it was Jan’s time to guide them. She took the map and used the cafeteria as their reference point, after that, she traced a route. Jackie had to bite her tongue to refrain from helping her because she knew that was the only way she could learn. In the end, she did a really good job.

“We’re here. This is the administration office and right upstairs is…”

“The copy room.”

“Correct.”

“Yay!” She celebrated clapping. “Thank you so much, really… I don’t know what I’d have done without your help today.”

“Don’t even mention it.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Can I go visit you later? After my class…? Maybe I could bring you some snacks for being so nice to me.”

“There’s no need… really.”

“But I want to.”

There was no way Jackie was going to say no to her, that was already established.

“Okay, sure. I like Snickers.”

“Noted… see you later, Jackie.”

“Good luck.”

She started walking away but had a last glimpse of Jan before taking the stairs.

Her heart started beating faster.

Oh for goodness sake… what have you done Jackie Cox?

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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espresseo-cafe · 4 years

Text

maybe | johnny | twoshot

coffee type: cappucino

pairing: elite!johnny x elite!reader

bean count: 2.2k+

a/n: shot #1 of this twoshot 😉 (edit: part two is here!)

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not that you were against working another part time, you were content on working at a bookstore. with the constant nagging from your aunt, she was desperate in wanting to give you another job while in university. though you gave it a second thought, working two jobs meant more cash and allowance. you didn’t have to ask a few bucks from your well-off parents. so you took your phone and sent her a quick call.

“hi aunt, about that part-time job, i’m willing to take that offer.”

and today marked the second month working at a nearby coffee shop as a cashier and barista. to be honest, you enjoyed working here than sorting out books and notebooks in the shelves. this seemed more relaxing, very you.

in just two months, you already recognized some regulars. three of the many were around your age, turned out that your co-worker yuta was friends with them. one thing you found quite hilarious was that they all shared the same height. the one with low voice and gosh, crystal-clear skin was jaehyun. the other with a cute vibe introduced himself as jungwoo. and the other looked like a model with large doe eyes- yukhei.

even though these were tall young men, they acted like dorks in the cafe- playing on their nintendo switch. you even heard that they were joining the animal crossing craze. oh how you wanted to have one of your own..

you wiped the counter clean with a disinfectant and a cloth when door informed you of a new customer. “good aftenoon, welcome to cafe kumma!”

“y/n!” a familiar face ran straight to where you were. “wendy told me you were working here!”

you smiled the first time today, seeing her somehow relieved your stress. “nayeon! you didn’t tell me you were coming today. i could’ve treated you lunch.”

she fanned herself with her hand. “ey no need! i came across a new boutique to do some shopping when i thought this dress would suit you.”

your eyes trailed to the bag she was swaying. ah, the annual formal dinner at the company. because you were too busy, you haven’t had time to go window shopping and you felt bad that nayeon had to go on your behalf. she didn’t mind though, she was attending as well, her dad being one of stockholders.

“i thought you were supposed to be lowkey. you’re totally exposed.” she placed the bag on the counter. “you know you’re the daughter of a pretty well-known stockholder.”

you shrugged, “i wanna take a breather, yeonie... i can’t sit still and sign papers all the time.”

nayeon giggled at your honesty. she knew how tight your schedule was at uni and helping your dad for some errands. “and you chose to be a barista and a book girl.”

“i wanna be independent.” you stretched before sitting on a chair, having pasta and chicken for lunch. “can’t have my parents as my cash machine you know.”

“you’re totally different than your older brothers yeah?” nayeon drank from her coffee, “they just have all the time to party around, don’t they?”

you nearly choked on what she had said, “mhm. do i have to remind you that you happen to date one of them?”

nayeon just gave you a cackle as a response. “haha well, he’s charming. anyway, the dinner’s tonight. you have to wear that dress i chose for you.”

“alright, alright.”

the annual company dinner that your family contributed shares to was happening tonight. in all honesty, you never went to any social gatherings that that company organized. so to be in attendance for the first time ever made you a little nervous. since it was a formal get together and the 30th anniversary, everyone invited should at least wear something very decent.

you stretched on your bed, then staring at the bag nayeon had given you days prior. you were seriously having second thoughts in going, you weren’t the type to spend all the time to get dolled up or cake your face with temporary colorful powder and such. but, it wouldn’t hurt to go.

so you stood up lazily, pursing your lips as you slowly opened the bag (you really wished you didn’t), revealing the dress.

“oh my g- nayeon!!!”

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the grand ballroom shone with golden and silver lighting, soft classical music playing sweetly at the background. clinks and clanks from wine glasses complemented the happy laughters from the high upper people. johnny stood by a table, suited up while his father was busy talking with several people who he recognized as the jeong’s, the kim’s, and the wong’s.

he swirled the wine glass he was holding, becoming bored of the repetitive dinner. three of his friends approached him in a rather hyperactive behavior.

“my man john jun suh!” yukhei greeted him with his flashy pearly whites, making johnny cringe at the mention of his full name. “you made it!”

“hey bro, up for a second glass?” jaehyun gave him a friendly hug.

jungwoo poured himself a glass, “i thought you had errands to go to tonight?”

“if you have an insisting mother and a gentle but pushy father?” the older one placed his glass down before giving a burp, “can’t do anything. objection apparently isn’t their friend.”

the three just laughed at the disappointed boy, they knew he had been tailing his parents since of wee age, even though he was quite fed up with it. but what could he do? he was an only child and had to take up responsiblities himself.

the night was still early and more distinguished people coming into the hall. yukhei wandered around, obviously to check out some girls to befriend with. jaehyun was approached by a few asking for a selfie but he politely rejected. jungwoo on the other hand, stood by the food table to eat. as they came together again for another chat, the boys noticed johnny in a daze midway of the conversation; staring elsewhere. it made the others look to it as well.

the door opened to reveal your family entering. your father and mother side by side and your older brothers behind them. johnny’s jaws clenched a little, a subtle gulp heard from jaehyun, and astounded stares from jungwoo.

“okay what’s going on?” yukhei asked confused, “why is everyone staring at those people as if they’re big time?”

“it’s because they are big time you twat.” jungwoo whispered. “it’s the y/l/n’s. they’re the largest shareholders at the company. bigger than our families.”

“not to mention good looking people too.” jaehyun added, “two of the brothers are alumni at our university y’know. varsity sports players even.”

“oh that family.” yukhei nodded, “but i thought they had three kids?”

“maybe the other couldn’t come?” jungwoo said, already eating his third plate of sushi.

various whispers from people beside them caught their attention, saying that there’s a new face behind the four people. “there’s the daughter. i heard it’s her first time coming here. gosh she’s beautiful.”

johnny squinted his eyes, doubting what they had said. he knew your family, his dad often mentioning your surname in the list he went through. he also met your brothers during his freshman year, but why hasn’the met the last child?

one reason why you hated coming to these gatherings, it was the attention you received from the surrounding people. like said, you rarely went to social gatherings and let alone dress up for it. but whenever you did so, eyes were stuck to you like glue. and the dress nayeon chose for you didn’t do good at all.

it was a long champagne silk ivory dress that had thin straps on your shoulder, a few pleats at the bottom, a thigh high-cut slit by your left leg, and a v-cut at the back that extended almost to your waist. your silver open heels fitted well with your outfit and to finish the look, your hair was middle parted, a few fringes dangling by your temples and curled and tied into a loose bun.

who wouldn’t miss such a sight? certainly everyone. and the boys noticed that johnny hasn’t taken his eyes off of you even after the entrance.

“someone has a type.” jaehyun teasingly nudged johnny, who blinked several times.

“tsk, who said?” johnny looked away to hide his pink tint creeping up his face.

“seriously she looks familiar.” jungwoo pointed out making yukhei shout in realization. “her side profile’s worth remembering.”

“ah! it’s that cute barista at the cafe we went to last week!” johnny looked back at you after hearing that, now he was interested.

johnny’s parents called him to introduce your family. whenever he was introduced, many of the daughters of some families would get his attention and he wouldn’t mind at all. though for the first time ever, he was nervous- hands shaking and his lips pursed.

“son, meet mr and mrs. y/l/n, and their children.” his dad gladly said, “the biggest contributor to our company.”

johnny smiled and reached out his hand, “it’s great to finally meet you personally. i’m john suh. you can call me johnny.”

“well mannered and a handsome lad you got there, mr. suh! how old is he?” your father smiled, mrs. suh soon bringing up the same old topic in meetings like this, and johnny-

“he’s twenty five and we’re already looking candidates for his future wife.” she playfully added, making everyone laugh and johnny went along with it with a fake agreeable chuckle.

mom.....

“around the same age with our youngest!” your mom gasped, “y/n- boys where is your sister?”

your brothers sighed, knowing where you’d be. “coffee.”

“she loves coffee more than wine.” your mom chuckled, gesturing you to come. “ah there she is!”

seeing you approach closer, johnny didn’t take his eyes off of you once again. you were even stunning up close. your makeup just light that it still showed your natural beauty. “hi, i’m j-johnny.”

“y/n, y/f/n.” you reached out your hand, giving him a smile that it unknowingly and actually sent johnny’s heart in a craze.

this young man that stood in front of you was incredibly attractive, his eyes browner than any pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. his jawline sharp that it could pierce through your heart, well he probably did with an arrow but you get it. and his height... even in heels, he was still towering over you. you’ve always had a thing for tall guys, and you’ve met the three regulars at your part time. but this guy, who goes by the name of johnny suh, perked up your interest more.

“look at them so smitten with each other!” mrs. suh exclaimed, making you both let go of your hands. “did we hit the jackpot yet?”

“mom,” johnny whined embarrassingly.

as the night went by, people were still enjoying their time at the party. all this time, johnny haven’t said a single word to you. now all that his friends had their own things to do, johnny decided to go out the balcony area to get some fresh air. he looked out the cityscape, lights flashed like fireflies. he inhaled the breeze, but coughed afterwards before saying, “hm, pollution.”

you let out a giggle and he immediately turned back, surprised to see you at the same space as he was. “you said one word and i find you quite funny.”

“oh, haha thanks.” he scratched the back of his neck, “i needed to breathe. my dad kept introducing me to people, saying that i should find a wife.”

“trust me i’ve been through worse.” you stood beside him, your forearms leaning on the railings. “i’ve gotten fifteen arrange marriage meetings in the past two months.”

he hummed, noting your point. “that’s only one meeting less than mine.”

“we’re pretty even, right?” you chuckled.

“yeah but only one of those meetings i may take into consideration.” he mirrored your position, you looked at him to finish his speech. “ours.”

‘what’ was all you thought of right now. you didn’t know why your face betrayed you and that your heart played along with it as well, because now you were blushing like an apple and looked away. maybe you agree to what he said. he stood out the most, and once you looked at him again, he was no different than you were.

“corny wasn’t it?” johnny awkwardly popped his lips, his hands in his pocket.

“maybe.” you said, “but i don’t hate it.”

he gave a gummy smile and a monotonous laugh and you swore it was cute. “though out of all the pickup lines i’ve heard, yours might be the one that i’ll never throw away.”

“touché.” he grinned, turning his back against the railing.

“corny, wasn’t it?” you played along, earning another chuckle from him.

“maybe... but i don’t hate it.”

you stood with him in silence as you stared at the night sky. for someone you’ve just met, johnny seemed like a warm person that you’ve known all your life that you’d like to know more about him. and vice versa, johnny liked your company in this short hour, were you the jackpot that he was searching for all this time?

maybe. just maybe.

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

Hi!! I was just curious about Nancy and Jonathan’s relationship in your mango series! I was wondering if Nancy was an alpha? If she is, does that mean that Jonathan is a Beta or an Omega? Kids??? I have so many questions and am way too invested in this tiny part of this universe lol Please feel free to make this into a part with Steve and Billy talking to them about pups and bonding if you would like.

Masterlist

Part 29

I realized I literally haven’t mentioned the Wheelers this entire time rip to them I guess

Also I’m using this part as background to everything esp how Billy and Steve got together. Also no monster au I guess? tbh this part just made me realize NONE of this series is thought out

I literally never established a timeline, so I’ve decided it makes more sense for Billy to come to Hawkins earlier. You’ll see lmao. (this started as a little nonsense thing so the timeline of the whole Mango series is so whack pls no one try and do the math)

+I had traumatic emergency surgery on my uterus several years ago, so I’ve based all of Steve’s stuff on that

Steve dated Nancy Wheeler for about a month.

He was always drawn to fiery alphas, liked when they had sharp tongues, weren’t afraid to speak their mind. He liked ‘em smart.

Nancy seemed perfect to him, but Nancy didn’t like how much work omegas were. They needed constant reassurance of love, so much touching and cuddling, and that’s just not how she operates.

They had been casually dating for about a month early in her sophomore year when he asked her to spend his heat with him. She knew that meant he was serious about her, and let him down as gently as she could.

He didn’t take it too hard, and even invited her to a party he was throwing at his big empty house.

That was the first night she really talked to Jonathan Byers.

Their families had always been close, and they had been uncomfortable acquaintances for a long time, but she found him making a pip out of an apple, sat in the kitchen with him and got stoned for the very first time.

They were sitting close to one another, leaning closer, about to kiss when there was a splash outside, there was screaming.

They rushed out to see Steve Harrington, wet and shaking in the cold November night air, doing CPR on, on Barb.

He yelled at Tommy H., told him to call an ambulance.

Barb looked bad. Her lips were tinged blue, her skin pale.

She sank down next to her. Jonathan gently touching her back.

Most of the kids ran when they heard authorities were coming.

She held Barb’s freezing hand until the paramedics arrived.

Steve hadn’t stopped doing CPR the entire time had heard Barb’s ribs crack and splinter from the force.

The paramedics called it.

Steve was never really the same after that. He had become more withdrawn, had quit the swim team and stopped throwing big parties, he started babysitting Dustin Henderson, ended up babysitting most of the party soon enough.

He was still nice to Nancy, would ask her and Jonathan to hang out sometimes. She always thought he was sweet that he was a big heart. Hell, she sat there while he did CPR on her best friend for twenty minutes, but it was easier with Jon. As a beta, she didn’t have to be someone she wasn’t just to keep him from emotional breakdown.

But then Billy Hargrove rolled into town in the beginning of the summer, was all California golden, a big imposing alpha, and she began seeing less and less of Steve.

She thought it was just a summer fling, Billy didn’t seem like the type to stick around for very long, didn’t seem like the monogamous type.

Steve had a bad habit of trusting alphas too quickly, had been with alphas that just wanted to be able to say they’d fucked a male omega.

They were so uncommon, and usually these alphas were just curious, knew male omegas were the only presentation identifiable at birth due to their genitals, had wanted to see for themselves.

But Billy stuck around, starting hanging around Steve wherever he was, joining him when he spent time with the party, or with Jonathan and Nancy.

Billy was starting to grow on her more, as she watched and realized he loved Steve, that he wanted to be as clingy as Steve needed.

They would go on double dates sometimes, and Billy would pull Steve to sit on his lap just as often as Steve would plop himself on Billy’s lap. So she guesses they’re kind of a match made in heaven.

And then Steve got pregnant.

And she expected Billy to run for the hills, but he didn’t. Got kicked out of his house for Steve, changed his whole world for Steve and their pup, and at this point, they were four years in, had two happy pups and we in the process of moving into their first house.

She and Jon hadn’t even talked marriage yet, let alone bonding, were focusing on getting through school.

They had both gone to New York without even consulting one another, decided they didn’t want each other’s college choices to affect the other, that they should pick the best school for themselves.

When they revealed to one another, Jon showed her his acceptance to NYU, his dream school, while Nancy had handed him her Columbia letter.

She got regular updates from Steve, letters stuffed full with photographs and weekly reports. She contacted a bakery local to him to send him a cake when he called and excitedly told her that he had finally gotten his GED, had dropped out of high school in the February of his senior year when he got kicked out of his house, when he was the talk of the whole damn town.

“Letter from Steve.” Jonathan placed the rest of the mail on the counter, ripping open the envelope. “He put in updated pictures of the girls, look.” Nancy cooed over the photos. There was a gorgeous one of all four of them at the beach, Steve had infant Zara strapped to his chest, Billy was holding Mina. It was so cute. “He said they finished painting the house and should be moving in this week.”

“He mention how he was doing?”

“Of course not, have you met him? The only reason we actually knew he almost fucking died was because Billy called us.”

“I guess you’re right.” She was still flipping through photos. “Oh look at this one!” It was Steve caught mid laugh while Mina was doing him hair behind him. “We should go out to California soon to see them. Especially once they’re in their house.

“I’m gonna write Steve back, maybe we could go for New Year’s, or something.” She smiled up at him, stretching on her toes to kiss his jaw.

“I think that sounds nice.”

Mina was currently in the process of showing Jonathan every single toy she owned.

His lap was full of plastic food, blocks, dolls, stuffed animals, books, everything. She was talking excitedly about her little toy Camaro, the one that looked just like Daddy’s!

Nancy was just laughing as Jonathan nodded along patiently. He talked to her like she was an adult, asking her details about each toy in a very serious voice.

Steve slowly set himself on the couch. His abdomen still sore from surgery a few months ago. He was holding Zara, all dressed up in a little onesie that looked hand-knitted.

“How are you doing?” Steve rolled his eyes. Jon and Nancy kept asking.

“Nance, I’m fine. Just sore is all.” He kept dodging her real questions. She knew that the doctor had told Steve there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to be pregnant again, knew it was probably weighing on him. She just looked back and Jon.

“How is Mina doing with Zara? I remember when Mike was born I wanted nothing to do with him.” Steve laughed, bouncing Zara a little.

“She loves her. I swear if she could get me and Billy outta the picture, she would rather raise Zara on her own.” Zara gave a little choked off wail. “Sweet Pea, you are fine.” He put her on his chest, patting her back. “How’s school and everything?”

“It’s good! Jon’s going to end up graduating a semester early, so he’ll be finished by this time next year.”

“Oh, wow. Good for him!”

“I hear you left work, how’s that going?” Steve shrugged.

“They could only offer me one month of leave, and with the surgery and everything, I needed much longer. But you know I don’t mind staying home with these two. I mean, Mina’s in full day preschool now, just Monday to Thursday, but Zara is pretty fussy, so it’s okay. Once she’s not breastfeeding anymore, I’ll probably find a new job.”

“And Billy’s school is going okay?”

“Oh you know him, just overachieving at every stage. He had to cut back on his hours at the garage, he got a really nice internship at a law firm in town, and he’s actually getting paid for it.” Billy had been studying pre-law at UCSD, wanted to go into some kind of prosecution, possibly specialize in domestic cases. His internship was more personal assistant work to one of the partners of the firm, but it was better money than the garage, and something to beef up his resume a bit more.

Steve could hear the garage door beginning to rumble and whine as it slid up.

“Speak of the devil.” He smiled at Billy as he came in, kicking off his shoes. Mina sprinted up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, standing on his feet as he walked over to everyone.

“You talkin’ ‘bout me, Pretty Boy?” He picked up Mina so he could perch on the armrest next to Steve, giving him a kiss.

“All good things. Kind of.” Nancy doesn’t think she’s ever seen Billy Hargrove in a suit. He loosened his tie, had take off his jacket to place into the coats closet, was currently rolling up his crisp sleeves. She could see edges of a few tattoos. She knew he and Steve had each gotten each others initials on their shoulder blades, adding the pups initials underneath them both. Apparently Billy was beginning to work on sleeves. “How was work?”

“Eh. Same old.” He shrugged, putting Mina down to go back to “playing” with Jonathan. He lifted Zara from Steve. “How are you doin’, Nancy? How’s the Big Apple?”

She waved a hand non-noncommittally. “Oh, it’s good. Jon’s working for some underground paper, shooting for punk shows.” Billy grinned.

“Well done, Byers. I’m sure your kid brother’s plenty jealous.” Jonathan laughed.

“He’s come up for a few of the shows he’s really wanted to see. Which is to say most of them.” The timer went off from the kitchen. Steve went to stand, only to have Billy push him back down, handing Zara back to him.

“Sit tight, Pretty Boy. I got it.” Steve rolled his eyes, but smiled softly at Billy all the same.

“He was a nightmare when we were moving in, wouldn’t let me lift anything over ten pounds.”

After dinner, Steve and Billy tag teamed putting the girls to bed.

It was kind of amazing to watch. Billy got Mina dressed for bed as Steve fed Zara, then they swapped, Steve made sure Mina brushed her teeth while Billy changed Zara, swapping again so that Billy could read a book to Mina and Steve rocked Zara to sleep.

They were so practiced and efficient, both girls were asleep with half an hour.

“You get a lot of practice with the bedtime thing. I mean, it’s every night.” They were sitting on the back porch, on patio furniture that had apparently been a gift from Claudia Henderson.

It was a perfect night, the Southern California air was just chilly enough to warrant a sweater, but perfect for just being in.

“There’s a park a few blocks that way that’s doing fireworks, we should be able to see them from here.” Steve had poured them each some champagne. Steve and Billy were sitting one the chairs across the little coffee table between them.

They chattered through as the clock ticked down, getting closer and closer to 1989.

Ten seconds to midnight, Billy helped Steve stand up. Five seconds to midnight, Jonathan was digging in his pocket.

The fireworks began as Steve pressed his lips to Billy’s. Nancy turned to do the same, choking on a gasp as she saw Jon down on one knee. Steve shrieked, scrambling for a camera.

“I wanted this to be the first thing I did this year.” Billy was grinning like an idiot, Steve was taking picture after picture, his big eyes full of tears. “I know you want to establish our lives before bonding or having pups, and that’s okay, we can just be engaged for a couple years, whatever you want.” Nancy had one hand in front of her mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Whatdya say?”

“Oh my god, absolutely yes!” Billy and Steve cheered as Jon stood up, kissing Nancy before sliding the ring on her finger.

#yikes writes #mango #me before this part: I have never heard of the Wheeler family ever in my life #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove abo #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #omega steve harrington #alpha billy hargrove #mpreg

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crybabytoy59 · 4 years

Text

My begging letter reply...

I opened the letter attached to the box my hands shaking the whole time,opening the folded pink paper the page coming into view I read it...

Very well done Babyslave, that was a lovely Begging Letter you wrote so

given your genuine feelings we are going to let you visit us for a long weekend

so the following dates You will choose one to serve us as our “Babyslave”

01/05....07/05...14/05....

Once you give us Our weekend date you Will use what’s in this box as described With No Exceptions ! This part is Not up for negotiations, as we will

be checking that Our Toy is Obedient. You will Not be given a Safeword & will be at our Will as to how Your Training & Punishment are given (We will not harm you permanently or leave any lasting damage, other than the inevitable mental

Tormented harm that we are guessing you can pull upon later when you feel the “Need within”....

Now open the box.....Babyslave !

Still reading the line over “You will not be given a Safeword” my mind now racing over the prospect of this type of Dominant Control, something I had always fantasised over but the thought of actually submitting to this ?

So I lifted my small knife cutting the box open.

Inside the box was a pink pvc dress with white frilly hem and at the cuffs to the arms, over the chest was a heart shaped panel surrounded by the same white frills, in this was a cartoon character of Winnie the Pooh ! Next was a large pink disposable with Fairy prints on it, pvc see through pants they also had Winnie the Pooh bear front & rear, white Mary Jane socks and pink booties, a tube of hair removal cream, a rubber ring with balls on it ? some sort of powdered drink.

Also there was two gift cards one was for a hairdresser, the other was for a natural health shop.

Now getting excited over looking at the items from the box I found myself getting excited about the prospect of serving them both, looking at the dates I found the first date was perfect as I had No plans that weekend.

So excited I messaged them my date...a reply came back ...

That’s perfect Babyslave..Now book both appointments for the Friday morning they are close together so allow 2hrs for both so you will be Finnished for 10am,

after done you Will message us for instructions.Take your Dress ect in a back pack with you so they are ready.

We look forward to seeing you for your Obedience Training weekend Babyslave.

The next week dragged on but finally the Thursday came at 7pm I was. Instructed to use the cream to remove all my hair feet to neck, the smell was not very nice but 30 mins later after a shower I stood completely void of hair !

A message came that I was to go straight to bed with No supper only my usual hot milk and honey.....in my terry Nappy & rubber pants with My pink baby doll nightie on....I was allowed to wet if I found the need but No poopies ! As usual No Cummies (It had been six weeks now with no relief Only frustration over the Pictures they sent me each day to look at teasing me endlessly at work at home they would come ..Pictures of sissy bondage Abdl art ect...

Friday morning I removed my soaking wet Nappy showered then headed with my back pack to the hairdresser.

On arrival I handed the girl my gift card “Hi you must be Tina’s friend, follow me please” the petite girl led me to a chair “Sit here Carla will be with you in a moment” as I sat nervously an older girl appeared behind me smiling “Hi am Carla nice to meet you” she put a black cover around my neck tied it on then pushed my head forward “Keep still please” I heard buzzing then felt the shaver on my head removing my hair not some of it All of it ! She shaved my head Bald then foam razor shaved it completely !..I sat stunned as she had not asked me anything just simply shaved me bald 👩‍🦲....

“There we go that ok for you ?” I smiled politely saying yes thank you, Carla smiled back “would you like some softness balm ? It’s free !” Again stammering slightly I spoke Emm’err yes thank you...Carla put some clear oil on her hands then started massaging it into my head her finger felt so good softly massaging my Now baud head she poke again “Tilt your head back for me.....(she rubbed my forehead & temples) Just a bit further back please” I forced my neck to arch back fully as she slowed the massaging even further ! It was pure heaven, then it struck me the oil was Baby Oil ! The distinct smell encircling my head invading My nostrils.

She tilted my head back up “That we Go Babe that’s you soft as a baby’s bottom” I went slightly red at her comment but she removed the apron then turned the chair to allow me to get up “Thanks for using us hope we will get to see you as a regular customer, you enjoy your weekend”

With that she walked away, I went out the shop the cool air hitting my newly shaved head felt strange but nice.

As they had told me the health shop was only a few minutes away, as I entered an assistant greeting me I gave Over the voucher “That’s lovely come this way” I followed her as we entered a room there was a bench with a raised bit it had a towel over it. A girl in a uniform came into the room “Hi my name is Dee am going to give you your treatments today, have you had a colonics treatment before ?” I was totally stunned as I was under the impression I was having a mineral skin treatment not an internal treatment !

Stammering I told her no this was a first...she smiled warmly telling me it was very relaxing to have done and that I would feet great after the treatment.

She gave me a white gown then told me to just remove my clothes and lay over the raised part of the bed with my hips tummy down.

When she came back it was with a cart, lifting my gown she put a towel over my lower back, then gently patted My thighs “pull your legs up slightly & shoulder width apart please”.

This now made me feel very vulnerable & a tad embarrassed, as I thought this treatment was done on your back ? What did I know....”just relax am going to put a tube inside you Ok ?” I nodded then felt cold lube as the tube entered me, she inflated a ballon then I felt warm fluid enter me, but not filling Me it was going back out, just a light constant pressure...In fact it felt very nice.

She told me to relax & enjoy it as the treatment took around 45 minutes then she left the room, embarrassing as it was I fell asleep ! It was just so relaxing...

Dee returned simply removing the tube and wiped me down “That’s you I will leave you to Get dressed, just watch standing up as the treatment will make you feel light headed, did you enjoy it?” Yes Dee it was so relaxing thank you...

I got dressed lifted my backpack thanked her again & left feeling like I was floating!l

No sooner was I out the shop when I got a message “Ok now walk to Mac Donalds go to the bathroom & put on your nappy, pants, dress, tights...put your clothes back on with the Top of the dress neckline showing out of the top of your Tee Shirt then walk back towards the park, we will send you directions from there...Hurry Up Babyslave Don’t Keep us waiting!”

I went into the restaurant toilet stripping to put on my Baby attire! Once I was

dressed the walk to the park had me walking face down as I was sure everyone was looking at the white frilly rubber coming out of my Tee Shirt neck !

At the park a txt came “Well Done.. now go to the car park you will see a black van in the corner go to the side door face the bushes & Stand Completely Still”

As I walked to the van I felt myself swelling up inside the disposable Nappy ! But worse was the rubber ring with the balls around it at my scrotum was keeping the flow of blood from returning & I was now hard as a rock !! Turning to face the bushes my heart felt like it was going to burst from my chest !

The van door opened & I felt myself being pulled backwards “Close your eyes Babyslave Do Not Open them no Matter what Happens!”

As I was pulled backwards my coat was being removed then hearing the door slide shut, I felt my trousers Being unfastened followed by my T-shirt Being removed ! “Clever girlie Babyslave look at you” a hood was being pulled over my head “Open Wide!” A Dummy was put into my mouth through the hole over my lips, this was quite large in size it felt like it was covered in small spikes ?Then I felt a head harness being pulled tightly on “Now Babyslave are you Wet ? (I shook my head) let’s just check (my plastic pants came down then my nappy tabs we’re removed & cool air hit my rear) “Clever girlie that’s just perfect, Now get on all fours & spread you’re leggies nice and Widespread..Clever girlie lift your tummy slightly cutie....(I felt a bench put under me then my legs cuffed apart, followed by my wrists being cuffed then pulled in front of me widely.

At this point I was aware the van was moving, she patted my rear then spoke “Just suckle on your Dummy Babyslave a wee short drive to a Quite location & we can prepare You for the trip home” she was sliding something up my shaft it was compressing my already engorged clitte ! The van came to a stop & the driver got into the back with her. I felt a large pair of hands lift my head as a strap was put to each chin from the belt over the small of my back holding me down...this had me whimpering as my head was forced into an unnatural backwards position ! I heard them both chuckle as she spoke to me..

“Now Babyslave were going to give you a wee taster of what’s in store for your Obedience Training This weekend, Off we Go !..Daddy...” I felt cold lib slide down the crack of my bum cheeks then someone straddling my widespread thighs !

She smiled at her husband as he squatted down lining up his member with the newly cleaned Fuck hole Dee had just cleaned in preparation! Only fifteen minutes ago Dee had messaged Mummy to tell her the treatment was done & they could message him. Now as she watched her hubby Very slowly enter there new Toy starting a slow rhythmic moment of fucking the spread eagle Sissy up the anal passage ! Mummy kissed his cheek..”Clever girlie Babyslave Remember Don’t Open your eyes As so far your being ever so Clever, aaaaww Daddy I can see tears forming...Big thrust now I think...(I could feel the first tears rolling down my face) Clever girlie Babyslave Open your eyes & look at me !” She was stunning even through tears I could see her leather clad figure !...

I had never been fucked by a man, I had fantasies about it but being straight I had never felt guy....but the humiliation of it did excite me....Now here I was Spread & being fucked as this gorgeous girl mocked me tears flowing from me freely now, I cried openly to her with a Deep want to give her my pent up tears..All of them held inside for so long struggled to get passed each other as they ran down my face in a race to be first to the floor of the van !

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s the way....Big Deep Breath Now though as Daddy is going to Fuck You ever so Hard Now am Afraid !”

True to her word he suddenly took hold of the belt pounding my rear hard as I attempted to scream Mistress Mummy held me in a chocking Hold this muffled any sound I could make As he grunted out a climax Deep inside me !

But he was not the only one that had climaxed my seed was now in the tube over my clitte, as Mistress Mummy pulled it into a syringe...

“Look at this Master Daddy our Dirty wee Punishment Toy did a huge creammie for us ! Mistress Mummy was putting it to the dummy as I felt hot seed coming out of the wee spikes on the dummy teat !

“Clever girlie Crybaby suckle That Down !” I was undone from my position then had a maxi pad taped over my hole !! Then my nappy put back on followed by my pvc pants.They sat me in a chair cuffing my legs under me then my arms behind the seat. Mistress Mummy sat next to me, then Master Daddy drove Off heading home as we drove Mistress Mummy spoke to me “Crybaby Sweetheart can you feel Master Daddy’s gift oozing out Your Baby Fuck hole ?” She giggled as I nodded....”Don’t you fret though Pet as soon as we are home It’s Going To Be Mistress Mummy’s turn To abuse Her Toys fuck hole...Crybaby Your Going To Cry Real Tears then not these silly crocodile Tears here Pet !”......

Mistress Mummy lifted a small rubber hammer tapping the front of my Nappy she hit me with it over & over ....”Now Crybaby I want you to wet your Nappy before we get home...If You don’t I will Beat your down here until you Vomit, Ok Sweetheart?(I nodded) Clever girlie Crybaby Ok Off we go !” She hit me hard with the hammer...I could see Master Daddy smiling at her in the rear view mirror ! What had I gotten myself into.......

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missnmikaelson-main · 4 years

Text

National Anthem

1. March 3, 2020

I do not own The Vampire Diaries or The Originals

She balled up a sheet of paper and spun in her desk chair, taking her best shot at the recycling bin in the next cubical where it bounced off the desk, teetered dangerously on the thin blue ledge and toppled into the bin.

“Yes,” she threw up her hands in a quiet cheer.

“What was wrong with your recycling bin?” Caroline replaced the phone in its cradle and spun around, glaring across the aisle at her best friend.

“No challenge,” she shrugged, speaking up to be heard over the cacophony of sounds. It was necessary to raise her voice for a decent conversation since dozens of people busy on phone calls, and the constant clack of keys made up the newsroom’s soundtrack.

“You seriously need a new story,” Caroline shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Preferably before I get hit in the head by a ream of paper.”

“I’ve only been idle a couple minutes,” she laughed.

“GILBERT!”

“Oh look,” she grinned, rising from her chair, “a new story.” She slipped through the rows of cubicles, pausing only long enough to look back over her shoulder and catch Caroline sneaking across the aisle. “Don’t mess with my system, Care.”

“Your system is a mess,” she called back.

Elena knew what her friend would find in her workspace, just like she knew how it would make her brain pop. And the mini aneurysms it caused to Caroline were more than worth the extra ten minutes of searching for a pen every day.

“What’s up?” She slipped into the conference room and dropped into one of the plain chairs across from her boss.

“New assignment,” Reese nodded, eyes crinkling when Caroline’s strangled shriek broke over the mess of sounds. “Before you go you’re gonna want to clean up that desk.”

“It’s so much more fun to make Caroline stare at it though,” she laughed, knowing the second she actually left the office her best friend would strike. By the time she returned her desk would be organized, colour coded, and would strictly adhere to the Forbes method that she still couldn’t believe the blonde had patented.

“It might be amusing Gilbert, but without you running interference Forbes will implode and I don’t want to deal with the mess.”

That caught her attention and she perked up, drawing her shoulders back. She had known Caroline since they were kids and it took more than a day to reach impending implosions.

“Where exactly am I going?” She tilted her head.

Reese pushed his glasses up his nose and raked his greying hair from his eyes; thirty-nine years old and his sandy brown hair had been all but taken over by grey. Elena did not envy him the job.

He opened a file folder and flipped a glossy sheet of paper around. She stared at it for a moment before lifting the sheet and a single eyebrow.

“Kol Mikaelson?” She swallowed, hoping her voice didn’t strain under the name.

“I’m given to understand you have a Mikaelson in your friend’s list,” Reese leaned back in his chair.

“You stalking my Facebook page Reese?” She fingered the edges of the page.

“I stalk all my employees Facebook pages, Gilbert.” He rolled his eyes and played with a pen. “That’s how I know Forbes had a dalliance with mayoral candidate Lockwood as well as an off and on thing with another Mikaelson, your ex is running on the republican ballot and one of your nearest and dearest friends is Rebekah Mikaelson. You have an in.”

“I wouldn’t call Rebekah an in,” her eyes narrowed. “She’s my friend. And I do have a good rapport with her brothers, but that has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with meeting them all at various stages in my past.”

“I don’t care how your ‘in’ came about Gilbert. The point is you’ve got one, and we’re gonna exploit it.” He turned another portrait around, this one a full colour depiction of a man who may or may not have popped into her dreams on more than one occasion. “You’re joining the campaign trail.”

“The election is in seven months,” Elena frowned, “and I thought you had Davina Claire on the campaign trail?”

“Davina dropped out and we need another reporter on the bus, taking interviews, covering rallies, finding the skeletons in the closet to report anonymously.”

“Skeletons?” Elena arched an eyebrow.

“Or gossip, if you like,” Reese amended. He poked the portrait with his pen, leaving a blue dot on the pristine white shirt. “The entire country has it’s eyes on him. He’s the youngest candidate with an actual shot at winning this race, but nobody knows anything about his personal life. No known girlfriend, or boyfriend. We know about his political views and stance at this point; I want you to get me something more.”

“Something more?” She frowned, unable to shake the feeling that he wanted career ending dirt. Granted she did know some, but it had more to do with his older brother than him, and even if she had a thought to utilize it - which she didn’t - then the words would never make it to print. Still, better her than someone who would actually dig.

“Mikaelson was elected representative at twenty-five, senator at thirty, and now he’s poised to be the youngest president on record, beating JFK out by eight years. He’s the baby of the house and nobody has ever found dirt on him.”

“Since when are we a gossip rag?” She sighed and stood up. “When do I leave?”

“Campaign swings through Virginia tomorrow. Davina will get off and you’ll get on.”

++++

“Am I really going to need that?” Elena glanced in the mirror as she packed her makeup and various toiletries in the bag.

“You’re going away for six months,” Caroline rolled her eyes. She carefully zipped the blue dress into a garment bag.

“I’m reporting, Care,” she hurried out, dropping her kit into her suitcase. “That’s not a professional dress.”

“No, it’s a date dress,” the blonde nodded, selecting shoes from the closet. “Six months on a bus, in various hotels, with other reporters and one smoking hot senator; you might want to go on a date.”

“Why did you include the Senator in that list?” Elena opened the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed a handful of lace and silk. She dropped it into her open suitcase just to drive Caroline nuts.

“Because you have the hots for him,” she started sorting through the scraps of lace without a word about the disorder. “And according to Bekah, he’s got the hots for you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen between me and Kol Mikaelson,” Elena sighed. She took more time folding her work clothes to avoid wrinkles, but sweats and lounge ware were thrown in indiscriminately.

“Famous last words,” Caroline sang.

“Care, I’m serious,” she moved to her desk to sort out her computer and various cords. “He’s a presidential candidate, and I’m a reporter for an online newspaper taking a serious stab at becoming a genuine gossip rag. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Whatever you say.”

++++

Her bags were safely stowed in the bus and she was doing her level best to not think about the second handful of lace Caroline had tossed in when she thought Elena wasn’t looking. It was like she had forgotten the last time Elena dated someone involved in politics.

Not that Kol was anything like Damon, but still an oath was an oath and no old crush was going to make her break it. She had sworn there would be no more politicians.

She drew a deep breath in and let it out, stepping towards the doors as a tiny brunette exited the bus. No matter how old Davina got she always seemed to resemble a porcelain doll. The innocent eyes were an act though; Davina could be as devious as anyone.

“Hey,” Elena greeted, offering her a quick one-armed hug. The girl was devious, but she was an acquaintance through work and nice enough that it would have felt weird not to offer a hug.

“Hey,” she nodded. There was an unguarded look in her eyes that made Elena’s heart thump.

“So,” she rocked back on her heels, adjusting her hold so the computer bag was in front of her. “What exactly happened?”

“What do you mean?” Davina slung her bag higher on her shoulder.

“With you,” she clarified, chewing her cheek. “You’ve been on the trail for months and suddenly you’re dropping out.”

“Let’s just say that he’s not what he presents himself to be,” Davina pursed her lips. “Take a bite if you like. You won’t regret it.”

“Take a bite?” Elena’s eyes widened, though why she wasn’t sure; it was hardly surprising. Well - she conceded, glancing over Davina quickly - maybe a little surprising.

“Sorry,” she shrugged, “non-disclosure agreement; I can’t say anymore.”

And she didn’t.

Elena watched as the young woman strode away from the bus. When she was out of sight and most of the people onboard had stepped off to stretch their legs Elena hopped up the stairs and spun into the narrow aisle.

She had thought it would be a narrow aisle. It wasn’t. There was a decent amount of space to walk and more than enough seats for people to spread out if they wanted; they were empty at the moment and so held little interest to her.

At the back of the bus, lounging in his seat and reading through some sort of legal document sat the Senator. There was a layer of scruff over his jaw and a deep furrow between his brows. She knew that furrow, and she had dreamed of that scruff.

If there had been more people on the bus she might have thought through her next act, but as it was just the two of them and the driver who was well beyond earshot she strode down the aisle, dropping her bag into an unoccupied seat. She followed and plopped down across from him.

He looked up as she crossed her legs, and if anyone asked her, her toes brushing his pant leg was accidental and he was definitely not giving her his trademark panty dropping smirk that made her actually consider dropping them.

And she was not going to have to change them.

He was not affecting her with his mere presence.

“Hello, darling, fan-“

She cut him off before he could get out the full greeting, knowing it would be best to have the information out in the open from the get go. And if her eyes narrowed and her nails dug into the leather arms then, well, there was nobody around to corroborate his story.

“You fucked Davina Claire, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a question. They both knew it wasn’t a question.

Kol closed his file folder, set it aside and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

And Elena did not, under any circumstances, lean forward too so she was mirroring him, but again, nobody was there to contradict her statement.

“Now darling,” he smirked, tilting his head, “if I didn’t know any better I’d day you were jealous.”

“Jealous?” She scoffed, and it was in no way high pitched.

“Technically no, and she meant nothing to me,” he shook his head.

“Why would I care what she meant to you?” Elena’s lashes fluttered, brushing her cheekbones.

“I just thought you might,” he shrugged, letting his fingers brush against her knee. “If she did mean anything it would have been over the second she was found compiling incriminating information. That’s the thing about reporters.”

“I could so easily take offence to that,” Elena peaked up through her lashes. Caroline might have labeled it as flirting, but she was not flirting with him.

“You’re different,” his knuckles trailed down her calve and back up, slipping under the hem of her skirt and moving down again.

And dammit, she was definitely gonna have to change. He was too sexy for his own good.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she breathed.

“Only you darling,” he caught the edge of her skirt, letting his fingers dance over the material. His smouldering gaze flickered between her eyes and lips.

And she did not lick her bottom lip or lean closer. There was not a flush creeping up her neck.

“Kol,” her cool breath fanned over his chin.

“Elena,” his nose brushed hers.

She could practically taste his spearmint gum.

“We should…” she swallowed, reaching out to curl her fingers around his tie. “We should… should really keep this professional.”

“When have we ever been professional?” His large hands covered her knee and reached for her elbow.

Elena’s stomach trembled, years of tension threatened to break in that moment and she was more than willing to toss her little oath out the bus window. No politicians was all well and good, but that had been before she was in his presence again and well before she felt the magnetic pull that drew her into his orbit.

Where would they have been if she’d just given in and kissed him that first summer when the attraction began? Would things have fizzled out fast, or would he have taken a different path that didn’t leave a trail of broken hearts and NDAs?

She wanted to know what it felt like, what he felt like.

“Elena,” he rubbed his thumb over her thigh, “should I stop?”

“I…” She breathed slowly.

“Sir, the car is here.”

Elena jumped at the gruff voice of the driver. She had completely forgotten the man was there, but Kol clearly hadn’t if the way he smoothly thanked him was an indication.

“Going somewhere?” She managed to lean back, putting a gaping distance between them that made her feel cold.

“Not without you,” he stood, holding out a hand.

“Kol,” she started to shake her head.

“Come on, darling,” he smiled, watching her expectantly, “I’m on my way to a family dinner to celebrate and you’re coming with me.”

++++

She barely made it into the ambiance lighting of the restaurant before her eyes rolled, showing a glimpse of the specials board and cozy bar of which she knew every inch and featured in several pictures that lined the walls.

“Really?” She cocked an eyebrow as he lead her between tables and booths. “This is how y’all decided to celebrate.”

“Have you noticed that when you’re adorably exasperated your accent thickens?” He chuckled.

“I do declare that I don’t know what you’re referrin’ to,” she adopted her thickest southern drawl. “I have no accent.”

“Oh bloody hell,” he sighed. “You’re going to do this all night aren’t you?”

“It’s possible,” she grinned. “Seriously though, the Grill.”

“I had a hankerin’,” he made an attempt at her accent.

“That’s really bad,” Elena laughed, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

“Elena?”

She turned around to face the table; the question gave way to a happy squeal and the next moment she had a face full of silver blonde hair. Rebekah hugged, squeezing until she felt certain she would pop, and she hugged her right back.

“Hey Bex.”

“Elena,” Elijah stood, nodding his greeting and casting a questioning glance towards his brother, “how are you?”

“I’m finer than a frog hair split four ways,” she chirped, backing up from Rebekah as Kol groaned. That would teach him to mock her accent.

“What?” Amusement flickered through Elijah’s normally stoic eyes.

“Forgive me, Elijah, I fear the quirky expressions are my fault,” Kol cleared his throat.

“Damn skippy,” Elena grinned.

Kol shook his head, pulling out her chair with a fond smile on his lips.

She folded her skirt beneath her and took the seat, smiling as Rebekah sat on one side of her. The fine hairs on her arms rose when Kol sat on her other side.

“Let me guess,” Rebekah tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Kol made some crack about your accent and now you’re punishing him for it.”

“That was the plan,” she crossed her legs under the table and shook off the drawl she’d adopted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way Elena,” Freya lifted her water glass, “because we all love you, but what are you doing here?”

“Kol dragged me,” she shrugged. Somewhere in the restaurant a flash went off as somebody took a photo behind them.

“Elena is taking over Davina’s spot on the campaign trail,” Kol supplied, offering a slightly better explanation.

“So you write for Davina’s publication?” Finn passed the menus to her and Kol.

“Technically I’ve worked there longer,” Elena took it with a smile even though she knew, as did everyone else at the table, that she didn’t actually need it.

“If anything we should say it was Davina working for Elena’s publication,” Rebekah rolled her eyes, saying the former reporter’s name with a grimace that suggested the syllables left a foul taste on her tongue.

“I assume your sense of integrity is better ingrained than the Claire bitch,” Klaus spoke up.

“Klaus,” Freya scolded with no real passion behind it.

“Don’t ‘Klaus’ me, sister,” he rolled his eyes.

“Davina spent months gathering information in an attempt to gain dirt on this family,” Rebekah leaned closer, placing her hand over Elena’s wrist as she whispered in a voice that didn’t carry beyond their table.

“And we’re trusting that you’ll do a better job than your predecessor,” Freya sighed, putting Klaus’ words into a politer phrase.

“Of course,” Elena smiled sweetly while reaching for her water glass. “I’ve known y’all fifteen years. Trust me when I say I won’t spend my time digging up dirt and searching closets for skeletons,” she swallowed the cool liquid, watching as Kol got a good mouthful before continuing. “I’ve already got plenty on all of y’all.”

She had been hoping for a short sputter. Maybe some water down his shirt or across the table, but he just laughed softly.

“Then I suppose it's a good thing most of what you’ve got incriminates you too, love,” Klaus chuckled.

There was a round of laughter that tapered off when Vickie stopped by the table for their orders. As predicted nobody bothered opening the menus. At that point in their lives when they went to the Grill it was because they had a ‘hankerin’.

Under the table a hand rested on her left leg and it was most certainly not making her throb. His fingers were not driving her crazy with need and she was not thinking about creative excuses and subtle clues that would put both of them in the dimly lit restroom.

“I’ll have my usual Vickie,” she managed to keep her voice level. He brushed the smooth skin where her legs met and she squeezed her thighs tight together; his back and forth stilled as his nail gently tickled her garter.

The conversation continued around her for a moment as Vickie left to take their orders to the kitchen.

She glanced through the corner of her eye. He had his eyes focused on Elijah as his brother asked question after question but his finger continued to play with her garter. She dangled on the precipice with her decision.

And damn it if she hadn’t been in this position before. It seemed every time they met his hands found their way to her body or hers landed somewhere on his, but one of them always stopped before anything actually happened; either for Rebekah’s no-screwing-my-friends/brothers rule, or because one of them was involved. There was one thing she could genuinely say about Kol Mikaelson; he might have been a womanizer and a playboy but he was not a cheater.

One fling at a time.

Their fling had been years in the making.

Silently she unfolded her legs, and sensed the surprise in his hand as he turned to look at her for a split second, covering the moment with a quick question about Klaus’ work.

She arched an eyebrow in silent challenge because honestly she grew really tired of denying her attraction to him. Not that she was attracted to him, or his damn smirk, or lickable abs.

Were they as defined as the last time she had seen them?

The conversation flowed around them; she took it in turns to respond and ask questions at the appropriate moments. And his hand, his damn hand, made its way upwards, steadily gaining ground with each passing second.

“So what exactly are we celebrating?” Elena reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears. The side of his hand brushed her damp panties.

“What’s not to celebrate?” Kol countered with a brilliant smirk, under the table he moved down her leg and went back up, brushing her centre again.

And she did not curl her toes up tight to stop her hips from chasing his fingers.

Her eyes flickered to Vickie when she dropped by the table with glasses of champagne.

“You said you were celebrating something, and dragged me here for it, so I assumed there was something specific,” she eyed the flute of sparkling liquid when Vickie placed it in front of her.

“There’s always something to celebrate, isn’t that right Vickie?” Kol turned his smirk on the waitress and she blushed.

Rebekah had the decency to wait for Vickie to leave before scoffing and catching her brother in a glare. Like Elena before her, she waited until he had taken a sip of water in the hopes that he would sputter and spit it up.

“You’ll fuck anything that moves.”

“Rebekah, please,” Finn closed his eyes, as if that would tone out his siblings laughter.

Kol’s composure rivalled Elijah’s when he wanted it too, so he swallowed calmly and turned, winking at Elena as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs once more.

“There’s not much I can do when the attraction isn’t mutual, sister.”

Elena couldn’t be sure if it was the way he said ‘attraction’ or the pressure of his hand over throbbing centre, or that wink that would have made a less experienced girl swoon, but she blushed.

Thankfully everyone’s eyes were on Kol and Rebekah as they traded barbs and the light pink flush could easily be mistaken for makeup or a trick of the light.

“Celebrating,” Elena prompted, squirming in her chair. If his siblings asked about what was making her uncomfortable she would say it was being stuck between a bickering Kol and Rebekah.

Which was in no way a lie.

“Allow me to propose a celebratory toast,” Kol reached for his flute of champagne, lifting it in salute.

Dutifully she reached for her flute.

“To old friends,” he tapped the glass with Elena’s. And there was no doubt he was talking about her.

“And winning the primaries,” Klaus arched an eyebrow. His critical eyes flicked between Kol and Elena.

“Oh yeah,” he conceded, “that too.”

Elena sipped her champagne and said absolutely nothing about the way his siblings were casting knowing glances at her. She even managed to make it through a further fifteen minutes of conversation before Kol had to take his hand away to pick up his utensils.

She did not roll her hips when he was gone, but she would admit that she was hot, and not able to focus on her food without glancing at his hands and feeling a tingle in her blood.

“Excuse me,” she folded her napkin and sat it on the table. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

On her feet she tried not to make a beeline for the restroom. Inside though she could admit that she was relieved to breathe in the cool air. She even closed her eyes and sucked a deep breath into her lungs. It wasn’t enough to cool her down though so she opened her eyes with the intention of splashing freezing water on her face.

Blue eyes met hers in the mirror.

She yelped, slapping her hand over her mouth as she spun around.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Her breathless voice lacked bite and it was all Kol’s fault. Kol, and his stupid dextrous fingers.

“What’s going on between you and my brother?”

Ah Rebekah, she sighed, queen of the segway.

“Nothing,” she lowered her hands to her sides.

“Really,” she tilted her head and stepped up close. Analytical eyes surveyed the light flush staining her throat and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Because you’re flushed and it started when he winked at you after saying that crap about mutual attraction. Are you attracted to my brother Elena?”

“Of course not,” she denied, an easy reflex after doing it for years, but her breathless voice suggested otherwise. “He’s your brother.”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “The brother I had to warn again and again to leave you alone because he had it bad for you.”

“He had it bad for me?” She bit her bottom lip, tucking a dark curl behind her ear.

“Of course,” Rebekah scoffed, actually scoffed, “you’re hot. Anyone not attracted to you is an idiot.”

“Awe, thanks Bex,” she smirked, attempting to change the subject before the blonde could press further or accuse her of being aroused and sneaking off to take care of that. Which to be fair she was, but she hadn’t been considering slipping into a stall to finish what Kol started at the table. She had not. “You’re hot too.”

“I know I’m hot,” she rolled her eyes. “I had four big brother beating the boys off me,” she waved a hand. “You and Kol?”

Damn it, Elena sighed, spinning around to wash her hands. “Nothing is going on between me and Kol. I took over for Davina and he invited me to join you all tonight. That’s it.”

Rebekah did not need to know her brother was all but fingering her best friend under the dinner table, or that her best friend invited him to do it.

“Nothing?” Rebekah gave her a look in the mirror, suggesting she did not believe her for a moment.

“Nothing.”

Back at the table Klaus stared after Rebekah’s back while Elijah fixed their younger brother with an exasperated stare.

“What did you do?” Elijah pointed to his brother with his knife, and he was allowed to damn it. It wasn’t threatening his Senator, it was scolding his baby brother.

“What makes you think I did anything?” Kol glanced up from cutting his chicken.

“Don’t give us that you sly fox,” Finn rolled his eyes.

“She ran from this table with hell hounds on her heels,” Klaus mused.

“I haven’t done anything,” he popped the chicken breast in his mouth.

“So I shouldn’t start drafting another NDA?” Elijah arched an eyebrow.

Kol paused his chewing to fix his brother with a look that suggested the lawyer had grown an extra head. The idea that such a document might be necessary sounded ludicrous, and clearly not to just his ears.

“Don’t be ridiculous Elijah,” Freya spoke up, donning the robe of eldest sibling she so rarely utilized, “it’s Elena. And even if something happened Elena would never disclose anything.”

@kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever @elejah-wonderland @cry-btch @geekofmanyfandoms @morsmornte @xanderling @bellemorte180 @iw1shiknew @blndbandt

#elena gilbert #Kol mikaelson #Elena x kol #kolena #freya mikaelson #finn mikaelson #Elijah mikaelson #Klaus mikaelson #Rebekah mikaelson #Davina claire #Caroline forbes

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voidcat · 4 years

Text

of Pamphlets & Bass Guitars

– Should I Call These Pamphlets?

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I could go a little longer, my original plan was to hold the debate in this chapter but I’ve noticed people tend to read shorter stuff more often so... yeah... Now that I’ve seen Leto (2018) and have a brand new list of punk songs to listen to, get ready for more updates. I can’t wait to write the gigs & the dance scene (wink wink @ Nic )

also uh i never said anything abt it but i can have a taglist for this if anyone wants, leave an ask!

Warning: Swearing, but this will be a given from now on.

Pants (ch 2) | chapter 3 | ch 4 (coming soon)

ao3

Screw classes, is the mood of the day. Hoping the topics are already the things you know, you open a new page of your notebook and get to work.

Writing.

If they want to go and take advantage of an action for their own selfish reasons, they should expect getting called out. The two you’ve met earlier, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, seemed nice enough but you can never depend on looks to tell one’s character, especially when it comes to people.

Pulled out of your trance by a hand on your shoulder, you realize it’s break time. Grabbing your notebook, you rush out to your friend’s classroom as fast as you can. Almost tripping on your feet once and crashing against people few times, you hope he hasn’t left yet.

“Seiji!” Holding onto the doorframe like your life depends on it, you look around hurriedly and spot him, looking like a deer in the headlights. Can you blame him though? It’s not often you directly meet him in his classroom. Slamming the notebook on to his desk, you look at him while catching your breathe.

One look at the papers and eyes back on you, he looks unimpressed. “Hello to you too.”

“Yes! Hello! Never mind, I have an urgent question…” Looking around you to see if anyone is listening- wait for how long have Seiji and Iwaizumi-san been classmates?- nodding to him when you both make contact, you scout closer to Seiji in a secretive manner again.

“The paper. Does the next issue include something I wrote?”

“This was the urgent question?-“

“Just answer me Seiji.” You fix him with a glare, more like try, those glares never worked on him as long as you’ve known him.

With a sigh, he speaks. “It doesn’t”- raising a finger in front of your face, he adds: “And I should know, I am in charge of your little corner nowadays.”

“Good! Good, now read-“ opening the page and pushing it in front of him, you smirk. “This.”

Doing such a thing on a short notice wasn’t easy but it was worth the effort. Even if it requires you to be at school hours before classes started.

Looking behind to make sure no one was around and passing the gyms carefully, you enter your first target. Papers tucked under your arm and a tape in your hand, you get started.

Taping as many as you can on the announcement boards, walls and any surface you see fit, you walk around the whole school in no time. Sure, more tiring than you could’ve anticipated but it’s worth seeing your words actually printed on a paper that’s not the school newspaper, hanging on the walls, waiting to be read is quite satisfying.

Double checking to see if you’ve missed any spots, you check your watch. Has it been an hour already? Not wanting to be seen by anyone just yet, you walk outside and find a new way to kill time.

When you cross the school gates for the third time today, you can see walking figures in the distance, probably some sports teams are already done with their morning practices.

On your way to class, your eyes get caught on one of your papers, should I call these pamphlets?, again. You can’t help but smile. Few meters outside your classroom, it’s these two from yesterday, standing side by side. The one with light hair, Hanamaki was it?, holding the paper and the other reading from over his shoulder. You walk up to them and stop by Hanamaki’s left.

“Hey guys, what are you looking at?” Did that sound too friendly? Would they mind if it did?

“Hi there. We’re reading that paper taped all over school campus. Mattsun says it was aimed at us for yesterday.” The boy nods at you when he hears his theory mentioned.

“Hmm, let me see.” You say and start reading, more like pretending. You don’t hear the incoming footsteps approaching you.

From your- Mattsun’s right, comes a voice. “Ah, there you are! I see you’ve already read them too. It’s aimed at us, wouldn’t you agree? I think it’s that g-“

You look up to see it’s Oikawa Tooru talking, holding one of your papers in one hand, wearing a tacky leather jacket. The way he looks at you is unsettling and yet he carries an amused smile on his face. Two can play this game, you put on your blank face.

“What was that shittykawa? You know who put these on?”

“Patience Makki dear, not yet. But I have a theory of my own.” Hanamaki looks at Oikawa expectedly, waiting for him to continue.

“Is there anything new or is it the same blabbering from yesterday?” Makki doesn’t sound too eager to listen to what Oikawa has to say.

“What! Of course not. It’s just nothing major, we can wait for Iwa-chan to come and I’ll explain later.”

“Speaking of Iwaizumi, where is he?” Mattsun speaks up at last.

“Showering.”

“We all did that. What’s taking him so long?”

“Or who is.” Makki adds with a grin and raised eyebrows. Both you and Oikawa roll your eyes at his comment.

With a shrug, he answers the two. “He said something about ‘standing under the water for five minutes not counting as a shower.’ Followed by a typical Iwa-chan grunt.”

“Well he does have a point.” With all the looks directed at you, you realize a little too late you’ve said it out loud. Again.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Well… Even rinsing, with or without a soap, can do a lot better than just standing under the water. And you guys stink of sweat. Like, real bad. Maybe use deodorant next time? Or don’t, the odor gets worse if you’re already sweaty.” Your volume lowers down as you keep talking. Both Makki and Mattsun seem entertained whereas Oikawa sniffs the air discreetly and shoots you a stern glare. Then he walks away.

Waving the remaining two bye, you enter your classroom at last. It’s going to be a long day.

And you just had to be right, this time proven right by some of your teachers and the vice principal visiting each class. Talking all about how they’ve noticed the recent conflict revolving the dress code and letting you all know that they’ll be holding a meeting at the end of the day, open for students to participate in and state their minds on the issue. And right before they exit, they have the audacity to add “Oh, we decided to hold this in the form of a debate. We figured this might be a good practice for all of you.” This does not stop you from yelling- objecting against this.

“And how are we supposed to prepare for a debate that will be taking place in under 10 hours? How fair is that? Either give us more time, if you wish for a debate so bad or just listen to what we have to say and settle on a decision with the students.” They don’t look so amused by your sudden outburst.

Waiting by the entrance of the conference hall, trying to see who’s inside, Seiji comes from your back.

“I assumed you’d be here.”

“Yeah. Are you joining as well?”

“I can’t, club stuff. Plus father wants me home early. But I’ll be rooting for you, good luck.” With a smile, he goes as it starts breezing. You take a deep breath and enter the hall room. Some students already on your black list for numerous reasons stand by on one side of the table. It’s clear where will you be standing, unfortunately you back is to the door.

With an arm draped over your shoulder out of nowhere, you flinch. “So cap, what’s the plan, we winning yet?”

In the past week, you’ve gotten familiar with Oikawa Tooru’s voice, you don’t need to look up to confirm that it’s his arm being a menace.

“If you’re here for getting to wear more unfitting leather clothing, I suggest you go and side with them. This is not a game or a joke for me Oikawa.”

“And what? Let those scumbags win again? No way.” The harshness he puts into the insult does not miss your ears. Looking up to his face, you notice a bruise by his jaw.

“Oi shittykawa, where have you been?” The sudden call startling Oikawa, you use it as a chance to get his arm off you and step aside. Looking back to meet the source, you see Iwaizumi-san.

“Heey, Iwa-chan! I’m a busy right now. Tell the coach I’ll come later.” Eyes going back and forth, to the teachers, the guys on the other side and lastly landing on you, Iwaizumi sighs and leaves. So this is who they were talking about by ‘Iwa-chan’.

“See? I actually care about this thing. And I’ve been wanting to see the idiots get crushed by someone besides me for a while.” Oikawa says again with a smirk.

“Does ‘getting crushed’ include landing a punch on you?”

“Oh doll, look at the guy second to the right carefully. He is wearing concealer to hide the black eye I gave him.” Squinting your eyes to get a better look, you can spot the imbalanced color transition on his face.

Then you turn your head back to Oikawa fast. “Do not call me that ever again.” He looks unimpressed by the sudden change in your tone.

“Sure, whatever you say.” He replies with a shrug. “But if you wanna know why I punched the bloke-“

“I don’t care Oikawa.”

“Oh but you should. See, it can be used to our advantage in this upcoming… whatever this is.” Motioning to the people in the room with one hand, he intrigues you.

“Okay, sure, spill. I don’t have anything better to do than give a speech on patriarchy and the constant victim blaming in the society anyways.”

As some girls who just spotted him, come near to approach the two of you, he sits on the table, legs crossed, with a ‘I know your little secret’ smile on his face. You hope the last part was just your imagination.

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