#not young enough to claim teenage angst

[gayerthanevertbh]

runaway “bride” | i want you pt. 8

natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation

pairings: older!natasha romanoff x young!fem reader

summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can word out your love for each other properly.

warnings: sensitive topics (abortion), fighting (like tons), heavily detailed angst, scared reader, slight attraction, and more - MINORS DNI.

notes: good luck xx :)

NATASHA'S POV:

I've always found that drinking and smoking go well together. It causes me to lose track of my true emotions. As if I'm in a different dimension where no one knows how I feel or what I want. Moreover, I never imagined I would be so hurt in my life when Y/n acknowledged that she wanted to abort our child. I was completely unable to bear the excruciating pain she inflicted on me. Therefore, a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes were my companions when I returned home while Y/n was away.

"You're drinking again."

Turning over my shoulder, Steve was leaning against the door with his hair ruffled everywhere on his head. I assumed that he went out today to grab a drink with his friends, causing him to look like that. I smiled wearily at him, knowing that I got his daughter pregnant.

"Just having a rough night, I guess."

He simply sighed, took a bottle of beer from the cooler next to the rickety table, and walked over to where I was sitting on the couch. He handed the bottle to me and I gratefully accepted it. I then opened the lid and downed the beer.

As he goes to get a beer for himself, he remarks, "Y/n's been weird lately. She's been distant with me and always out of the house, I don't know how to deal with that."

I looked at him briefly, before turning and gazing at the big painting on the wall instead. "She's probably just being a teenager, Steve."

"Yeah, I know that. But we're close," he claims. "Like really close, she tells me everything. And now it's like we don't know each other anymore. Is it because I'm trying to make Bucky be with her? I just don't want her to live in a–"

"Do you maybe think that she doesn't want her love life to be forced?" I questioned, which almost comes off as patronizing. "What do you mean?" he enquired as his eyebrows furrowed in my direction.

"Maybe she wants true love," I said. "Like, real love. Not the kind of love where you try to pair up with two people that would never even work out. Sure, Bucky's her best friend. But I know that look in Y/n's eyes, and she is not in love with him."

"How are you so sure, anyway?"

I licked my bottom lip and sighed. "Don't know, she's just... different."

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he finally spoke: "I know my daughter, Natasha. She's not like this."

"I'm not saying that you don't know your daughter, but maybe you should support whatever she wants in life."

He shakes his head at me and says, "All I want is for everyone here to be happy."

"And maybe she won't be happy if she chooses Bucky to be his boyfriend."

"Why are you talking like this with me? It's like you know my daughter all your life. Like you're her mother."

Because I'm in love with your daughter and got her fucking pregnant.

I made a small effort to speak, but nothing came out. I was at a loss for words and had no choice but to merely glare at him in response. He gave me a dubious look, but I could tell there was something shrieking through his bones behind those eyes.

Then, I felt my heart clenching with pure affliction. If I keep staring at him, the guilt will eat me up – and it's beginning to do so. I looked down at my bottle and choked out a sob, which made him scoot closer to me.

"Hey, hey... are you okay?" he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder, which I do not deserve. "What happened? Did she tell you something?"

I am aware that once I tell him about my relationship with his daughter, I will lose our friendship, possibly even more, but I'm not sure if I was mentally prepared for that great loss. Before she came into my life, I swore to Steve that I would never betray him by any possibility. And now, with the information that I will tell him, I know that I've betrayed him a long time ago.

You always can't have both when it comes to love.

"I'm in love with your daughter," I whispered with trembling breath. "I'm so fucking in love with your daughter that I got her pregnant, Steve. I love Y/n so much, and I'm fucking drinking away this shit because she's aborting our baby."

I'd never heard such deafening silence until this happened. He had wide eyes as he stared at me and was holding my shoulder so firmly in his hand. But I didn't give a damn. I turned my head away from him as I wiped my tears with the back of my hind, almost letting snot come out of my nose. I could feel his hard breathing on me, and I was prepared to be punched by him. At the end of the day, I never get what I truly want from my life. I've lost everything, including my first love. And now I'm about to lose this security with his daughter and I don't know how I can function right with that.

"Say that again."

I gasp for air as I look back into his eyes and then take a deep breath. "I'm in love with your d-daughter, Steve."

"No, enlighten me as to what you said following that."

"I got your daughter pregnant," I looked down from my lap and cracked out another sob. "I got your daughter pregnant and I'm so sorry."

He lets go of my shoulder and stands up, walking away from me. He covers his mouth, as if not believing what I just said, and threw his hands in the air angrily. I looked away again.

"You got my fucking daughter pregnant?!" I feared Maisy and Antonio would be startled awake by his screams as they filled the entire house. He screamed at me while pointing his index finger at me, "You got my only daughter pregnant and have the audacity to tell this to me knowing that I won't be happy with this?!"

"W-What else can I do?" I asked as I stood up, facing my true fears. This was, in fact, my true fear. It has been beholding me like a gift, except that it really wasn't. "I couldn't help myself, I fell in love with her the day that we grew close."

"And how was she when you fell in love with her? What, 16? 15?!"

"No, I would not ever do that–"

"You shouldn't say that to me after I've sacrificed everything for you," he shouts and roams around the living room like a crazed man. He cries while pulling his hair back from his head. "I thought you would be a good auntie to my daughter, and I trusted you with her, but you took advantage of her innocence! You are aware of how Y/n spent her childhood growing up with her mother. I had thought you would be that person for her, but you ended up making her pregnant. Have you ever considered how I might feel about this? You were the only one I could trust with her, and that's no longer the case! You are GONE!"

"Steve," my chest hurts from the sobs I've let out, and I could only sit back down with great despair hitting me like a truck, a very big one. "I-I'm sorry, I know it shouldn't have happened but... it did. We fell in love, she loves me. And I love her, I can't help but love her like that."

I had not anticipated watching a father receive the news that his daughter had become pregnant with his best friend, much less falling in love with a woman myself. He was one of the many people I could trust and truly was my best friend. And the more I touched Y/n every minute, the more I realized I was losing that position. But if I could lose one person today, it would be him.

But it's like losing a family in a single motion, and I'm not sure how I'd manage this pain beating out of my chest.

"Natasha," he breathes out my name as he covers both of his eyes with his hands, choking out another sob. All I wanted to do was hug him, tell him that I was deeply sorry, and maybe work things out along the way. But that wouldn't happen, not at this moment. "She needed you as a mother, not her lover."

"She loves me more than that," I mumbled. "We love each other, and I don't want that to stop. I know I-I'm being selfish, but for once in my life–I'm happy. I'm so happy, Steve."

"But you shouldn't be happy with my daughter."

He was right about that.

I sadly smiled and said, "She's the most perfect human being in the world. Who could resist being in love with her? I don't blame Bucky for that even, she's too perfect. She's the one for me, and I'm sorry that I had to tell you this way."

Steve sat down again, this time facing the other way. I imagine he didn't like the idea of sitting next to me, so I did the same. I'm left in the dark after he takes a single piece of paper off the coffee table and scrawls some words on it. As soon as he was finished, he handed it to me, and I silently read the paper.

We can't choose who we love, can we?

This note had a peculiar mixture of contempt and relief. I kept looking at the paper with tears welling up in my eyes because I was unable to decide which emotion to feel. A few tears fell onto the sheet, and I quickly wiped them away with my hand. "What does this mean?" I asked him as I turned to face him. "Why did you write this?"

He leaned back and murmured something under his breath while heaving a trembling sigh.

"Because if I say it out loud, I do not know if I would mean it."

I nodded, a great deal of internal pain causing my throat to bob. Y/n felt more significant to me than my friendship with him, even though I was aware that I was going to lose his trust. I have the option to choose anyone to be my friend – but never love. And she is the object of my deep love; no matter what, it will always be for her. I firmly believe that it must be Y/n because I could never love someone this deeply in any other way.

"I would do anything for her, Steve."

He nodded slowly, accepting this kind of fate brought up to him abruptly. "Yeah," he said in his deep voice. "I know you would."

READER'S POV:

Natasha had not spoken or seen me in days, and I was dying for her to look at me again. But I can't force our fate, especially since she knew I was planning to abort the child inside of me. Those were lonely days for me. Every hour that passed made me wish it was night so I wouldn't have to think about her while trying to fall asleep. I would try to keep a safe distance between us by either being upstairs or at MJ's house when she was around. Though, I could no longer handle this pain – it was getting too much. Speak to me and let me know that you'll fully support my decision so that we can be happy again. Don't go away so fast, we haven't even finished our story yet.

I haven't seen my father either since the day he left for work, so it was just me, Natasha, Maisy, and Antonio in our lonely gardened house. But today felt different since my father came home drunk. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't even look me in the eye. Perhaps he was that intoxicated, so I left him alone in his bedroom. While walking back to the garden, I see MJ waiting for me outside. I ran towards her and asked, "What are you doing here? It's barely noon."

"I came here because–" she takes a deep breath before finishing her sentence. "Remember Wanda? Yeah, she's available now. She'll help you today."

"But, my father is here and he might be looking for me–"

"We don't have much time," she claims. "She'll be leaving tonight, so it's best if you come with me right now."

I was only hesitant to leave because I wasn't sure if I still wanted to have the baby out of my stomach, but I was afraid to say I did. So I nodded, grabbed my bag, and followed her to a place I didn't know.

When we got to the small house, a tall brunette woman was waiting for us outside. Her face looked dreary, yet she didn't look like a threat. Before I could introduce myself to her, she said: "You look young."

Her voice sounded condescending.

"I uhm..." I stumbled over my words and seemed to be left with no choice but to nod. She licks her lips before inviting me inside her house, which hardly even resembled one. In the corner, there was a bed and a long table covered in medical supplies. She motioned for me to sit, so I did so slowly at the edge of the bed while waiting.

"How old are you?" the woman asked.

"E-Eighteen," I responded quietly, almost as if it was a secret. She looked at me briefly before asking: "When was the last time you had sex?"

"I-I don't know, maybe six weeks ago."

"You did not do anything else after that? Did you take a plan B pill?"

Despite how overwhelming these questions were, I was compelled to answer each one. She also didn't look friendly, which only added to the nausea I already felt.

"N-No," I replied. "I didn't."

She looked at me quite skeptically before grabbing her clipboard and writing down something, since I cannot read it from here. MJ was a few feet away from me with her eyes roaming around the room, then back at me to check how I was holding up.

The woman had her hand on my knee and squeezed, acting kinder this time since I got a sense that she didn't appreciate me much. "Are you sure about this procedure? If you have any thoughts, let me know. But right now, I'll leave you be as you talk this out with your... friend I should say?"

"Yeah," MJ replied for me, nodding her head. "I'm her friend." The woman kindly smiled again before leaving us in the room, making my way towards MJ as I hugged her tight, face buried into her neck.

I have never been so scared in my life.

"Do you still want to do this?" she asked with a very soft tone, almost like a cat. "If you don't want to do this anymore, I can help you raise the baby. I'll always be here for you, you know that."

"I don't know anymore," I whispered into her neck, feeling my tears streaming down my face. "It's like I wanted to get rid of this thing yesterday and now I feel like I have the sense to keep it."

"You also have to think about yourself too, sweetheart." her words were so comforting, and it feels like I don't deserve them whatsoever. But she was openly saying these things to me and all I had to do was to accept it.

"I'm trying, I really am."

After a brief period of hugging, someone entered the room. When I looked at the door, Natasha was there, her brow furrowed by the doorframe. Her expression softened as she turned to look at MJ and then at me.

"Y-Y/n? Can we talk outside, please?"

I pulled away from MJ and whispered, "How did she know this place?" she only shrugs and steps back away from me, making Natasha pull my wrist gently as we go outside of the small house. I stood with a frail body and murmured, "W-What are you doing here?" even though I was still upset with her, I couldn't help but feel my heart beat slower when she was around.

"I just," she takes a deep breath and rubs the back of her neck. "C-Can we please think about this first? You're making a decision without me, that's my baby too."

"I really don't want to fight right now, Nat–"

"If you could just listen to me, maybe you'd change your mind." her hands were in the air in a beseeching gesture, and her voice sounded like she was pleading. Before I made the choice that would change my entire life, I took a moment to look at her and nod. She lets out a huge sigh of relief. "I know things have been rough with us, b-but this baby could probably change our life. It would make our relationship stronger, and we would be different. Good difference. And if you just give us time for each other, then maybe you'd change your mind."

"I don't know if I would want that, Natasha," I muttered, rubbing my elbow to help my anxiety ease. "We've been okay, until you didn't support my decision. What makes you say that our relationship would grow stronger if we keep ourselves hidden in the dark?"

"That's why I want to run away with you, so we could be open to everyone. So that we wouldn't be so scared anymore," Natasha cups both of my hands as she brought them to her dry lips, kissing my skin softly that I'm reminded of her undying love for me. "Just think about it. You and me, in a strange town where no one knows us, and us taking care of our beautiful baby? Once the baby's born, you can go back to college again. We can take care of our child–"

"If that ever happens, I won't be leaving a child behind," I interrupted her, furrowing my brows. What was she even saying? That I would go to college to pursue my dreams yet leave the baby that I never planned for? What kind of a mother would I be to do that? "That baby would need me more than my fucking future–"

"So let's say you don't go, okay? Let's just say you don't," she was getting agitated now as she moved closer to me until both of our foreheads touched. "I can work from home and take care of you and our baby, and be happy together... don't you want that? Be free and happy?"

"But lying to our loved ones? I don't think so, Natasha."

"Wait–"

I removed my hands away from hers before crossing my arms around myself, as if creating a safety net for myself. "And if we do keep the baby, will you be there?"

Natasha nodded happily, her grin getting wider as tears streamed down her face. "Of course," she whispered. "I'll be there every second, baby girl. Just... don't do this. We can run away right now and leave everything behind, don't you want that for the both of us? We can leave everything behind, beautiful."

I first gave it some thought. Sure, giving up everything to raise a child with her sounds like a wonderful experience. In fact, I was so close to wanting it. What harm would there be in that? I would sacrifice everything for the woman I love, but in return, everyone would despise me, even my distant father. Yes, that sounds fantastic. But yet, I couldn't say yes to it.

"Natasha..."

"I'll marry you, and be with you, and do whatever I want with you–"

"Natasha," before she could even kiss me, I placed my hand on her chest. I could feel it beating against my palm, and I almost wanted to kiss her back. But she kept our lip distance, yet they were so close to mind. "Tasha, I can't have that future with you."

She looked distraught. "W-Why?"

"Because I still want to achieve my dreams," I told her while smiling weakly at myself. "I want to finish college, be who I am, and maybe if time can tell, maybe it could bring me back to you. But for now, I don't think this would even work out between us."

"Y-You don't know what you're saying, detka," she sniffled, cupping my face desperately. It almost screams, please don't let me go, not now, not ever. But I push that away once more, trying my best to be brave for myself. "You don't know what you're saying, please don't do this."

"How can I let you love me when you don't even fully support my decision?" I asked with my voice quivering with woe, and she touched me even more. "How can I let that happen?"

For a while, we were silent, trying to savor the last few seconds of our proximity. And if she ever still decides to not support my decision, letting her go was the best choice. I would not be able to look at her if I thought about the words she used to describe me as an immoral, self-centered individual. How can I ever look at her the same way again? She presses our lips together, and I felt elation course through my veins. I was delighted to be kissed by her once more, to be the girl she has always cherished. That's what I always wanted to be.

"Then I will support you," she whispered with her mouth close to mine, aching to be kissed again. She looked down at me with those sorrowful eyes, yet smiled at me. "I-I will support you, Y/n. I just can't lose you yet."

Natasha held my hand throughout the procedure. I was crying with agony while she kissed my forehead, repeatedly telling me that everything was going to be okay. MJ was waiting outside since she was too frightened to see the process. As soon as it was done, Wanda told me to take some pills to help me ease the pain for the next couple of weeks. And before I left her house, Wanda gave my hand a tight squeeze, whispering: "Don't let her control your life."

These words resonated with me as Natasha walked me home. She couldn't possibly control my life, right? She was fully supportive when I told her that my school was a priority, so how can she control my life? While thinking about these thoughts silently, I heard her asking: "Do you want me to bring you to bed later?"

Y/n, everything will be fine. Just a few more seconds until the fetus comes out.

Trauma, pain, agony, or whatever the hell is in there. I hated it.

"Y-Yeah," I replied, pushing those thoughts away far away from my head. "I think I'd like that."

I did not see my father again that day, and I will not see him the following day either, as we will be leaving in a week. So I anticipated that he would meet some friends before we leave. I was in bed with Natasha while she spoke about her previous life in New York, how I influenced everything for her, and how she is now truly content. Something within me felt proud, but the majority of the time I felt terrible. Truly fucking horrible and truly fucking disgusting.

I regret what transpired with that child; I should not have had an abortion. I should've seen it grow, to become a wonderful child. And now it's gone.

whoops

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x you #black widow x reader #I Want You Series

[supernovafeather]

omg hi 🤭 the thought of jealous!leto has been plaguing my mind for a while and i’d love to see it in action!! perhaps he notices some soldiers flirting or talking abt reader & he gets all bothered so he makes sure they’re stationed right outside his bedroom so they hear how good only he can make reader feel eheheheheh

for f!reader please :)) wife, concubine, totally up to you!! ur writing heals me i swear, thank you so much lovely 🫶🏻

Thank you for your request and your support, here is your fic! :D

Minors don't interact.

Only His (18+)

Leto Atreides x wife!Reader

Content: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, age gap, jealousy, lingerie, very slight angst, lots of fluff 2000 words

Leto had no idea on how to act on this relationship with you. Love has been mutual and reciprocated on many levels from the innocent looks to the nights all too short for his liking. A slightly playful side of his personality started to show up once your presence got official because of the wedding celebrated in private. Instead of feeling older like such an event would do to anyone, the duke felt relieved and even lighter. No one needed to know that this union got consumed several times before getting recognized, nevertheless many commented on you.

The ruler tended to eavesdrop easily whenever some idiot would mention your name or title. It could come from soldiers patrolling on the hallways of his domain, some ambassador, a maid. You unleashed passions without doing much more than appearing by his side no matter if it was jealousy, desire or curiosity. At first he felt content with this confidential mess feeding everyone's conversations like some log would in a fireplace during winter. Freshly arrived and his people had no major difficulty to accept you as their – and most importantly his – Duchess.

Recently, the duke experienced the first sparks of jealousy, the kind of jealousy ignited flames devouring him from the inside whenever you would accompany him. He could deal with the soldiers' fantasies well, it only asserted your mutual dominant position up those men, but the nasty and needy looks sent to your back from another side of the room from some unknown older men were too much. They felt too much at ease around you and it only took a few polite words with you for them to start thinking that maybe the Duchess of Caladan was a mere hot woman that would spread her legs for whomever had the power to charm her.

However, the duke never lowered his guard around them, mainly because of those bloody insecurities resurfacing when one of those porks revealed themselves to be quite charming and handsome. Younger as well, coming from great families and well-educated. The didn't have that graying hair – some didn't even have a beard but still tried their chance with you – and were playing the innocent souls mesmerized by your own beauty and intelligence. Nonsense. As your husband he could see through those vipers' desguises pretty well. How many wished him to die so they could marry you and impregnate you like a docile bitch they would own?

“I had no idea you could be so... tactile,” you whispered as Leto secured his arm tighlty around your waist.

“I thought we had been tactile many times before.”

Tonight got especially eerie for him. The gala gathered young heirs from every corner of the galaxy and even without their presence now that this ceremony was over, he felt uncomfortable and stressed out. He was too old for that kind of thing. A teenager would have more ressources than him to defend his beloved.

“Not this kind of tactile,” you claimed, “this doesn't sound like you.”

“I reassure you my dear, I am me, myself, and no one dressed up as I,” he chuckled.

Soon enough your couple joined the shared chambers, their familiarity sufficient to remove most of the weight that parasited his shoulders all night long. The sunlights wouldn't be long before showing at the horizon. You would be sleeping comfortably in your warm bed and he would already be elsewhere to work with his subordinates.

“Are you sure you don't want to stay here a little, at least to get some rest before starting your day,” you inquired.

Leto wanted to make love to you right now but didn't have much energy remaining to do as desired. He stared at you taking your dress off to go take a shower, his exhausted eyes wandering on these curves he had caressed, nibbled, licked, soiled so many times. Those ridiculously arrogant heirs would never get their head between your thighs as he sworn to himself in the past.

“Maybe I should.” He admitted as he sat down – or rather let himself fall – onto the bed. “But it's not like I had any choice remaining.

He let a small smile find his lips as you caressed his bearded cheek with your palm, your soft smirk followed by a kiss on his forehead. How could he blame those idiots trying to get you? Maybe he would act the same around you if you got married to someone else.

“I have to go take a shower but I also have something to show you before you join the others.” You explained before kneeling before him in your white underwear. “I just need you to stay awake and in our chambers. It's extremely important.”

“Alright. Extremely important but not enough to preceed a shower?”

“Exactly.”

Confused and not in the mood to try to understand the whole predicament, the duke looked as your buttocks disappeared behind the bathroom door. What a shame. A few years ago he would have caught you up and brought back to to your bed without worrying about the incoming meetings. He still had the duty to conceive an heir with his Duchess, they would have excused him for skipping the two hours of rest he should have enjoyed in your company. If only it wasn't so difficult to get a child... you would have at least four of them running everywhere with all the times you tried. But nature or the Gods decided against it apparently. He hoped he wasn't running out of time.

Leto lied down on his side with his boots solidly planted on the floor, fully clothed and thinking that he should have taken a shower with you. It might have led to some “duty” afterwards that would have felt more rewarding and pleasing than just brooding about his lack of efficiency in some domains.

As he started to doze off softly on the silky blankets too welcoming for his good, he heard the door as you walked out.

“Leto, I told you not to fall asleep,” you half-scolded him.

“You told me to rest the time you come back so I rest my eyes.”

Still surrounded by darkness, he raised an eyebrow as you mounted him, a pair of thighs holding him firmly against the bed.

“Open your eyes Leto.”

“I'm too far gone for that,” he argued with a defeated voice.

This was what he thought before feeling some pressure on his crotch.

“I want my husband to show me what it feels like to be loved,” you pouted.

“I...”

As he opened his eyes his consciousness finally slapped him in the face and the view of your bright red lingerie motivated him enough to rise on his elbows.

“Oh, that kind of important matter? Of course I will study this with attention. Maybe twice just to make sure I got it right.”

“Never change my love.”

“Since when have you been thinking about this?” he taunted you with a grin.

“I saw you getting grumpier around all those peacocks complimenting me. It was pretty hot to see you silencing them with only a glare. And as I'll be missing you all day long again... I want my duke to show me how much he loves me, and me to show him how much I love him.”

“Oh. Was it that visible?”

Your turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I see,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to make them hear how much you love me?”

“Did I turn you on so much just by being in a bad mood?”

That kind of demand from you was... unusual. He could call it whorish, but as he really liked this he took the decision to call it sensual. Having his beloved wife mounting him in the lingerie pieces he preferred just to brighten his mood up and to potentially carry his heir and make him assert his union with you even more...

“Not by being in a bad mood. Rather by actively making yourself respected. Now, don't move. I have to reward you in some way.”

Leto watched as he remained laid on his bed, a smug grim appearing as you slowly disappeared between his legs. Once the back of his head back onto the blanket he sighed, satisfied by the outcome in sight.

“Don't fall asleep,” you warned him.

“I won't.”

He must have given the right answer as he felt your warm mouth wrapping a precise spot on his pants, your tongue darting out to pressure his crotch a little as your skilled hands sloxly took off his belt.

“Should I make you scream louder than usual?” he asked as your lips started some slight massage.

Your chuckle barely interrupting your ministrations offered him the response he was looking for, and it was not long before he helped you to take his pants off, his black boxer and the bulge hidden by it now at your mercy.

“I had no idea you loved seeing me like that,” he breathed out, “I thought I was being childish.”

“As long as you remain professional and moderated, I find it incredibly hot.”

“Stop encouraging me down this path, I shouldn't listen to you.” He said before hissing at the warmth of your mouth engulfing his shaft almost entirely. “But don't stop that, you're too talented.”

With all the loving debauchery in display in your chambers since before your wedding he should replace talented by experienced, but now was nt the moment to try to make his brain work out any better. He couldn't as he stared at the ceiling above his head. Then some bubble popped in some corner of his mind as he grabbed your hair and sat up brutally, his energy almost fully back as you glared up at him in pure surprise, your mouth ready to resume its ministrations.

“Come here you.”

You laughed as he almost threw you on the bed, your hands busy with his salt and pepper locks as he peppered kisses all over your throat, your bra soon abandonned somewhere.

“Leto what are you doing,” you giggled.

“Take your panties off, get on your hands and knees and I'll make that clearer for you.”

“Shall I be loud sire?” you cooed.

“Any other dumb question?”

You giggled again approvingly before obeying. Yet, something was off and Leto thought about it for a few seconds before making you turn around for you to face the door. Only then he positionned himself behind you, staring down at your entrance as he rubbed it with his shaft.

“I want them to get turned on and frustrated because they can't have anything of my wife. Get it?”

“Get it,” you said excitedly.

A few seconds in and Leto was already smiling like this was the best day of his life as he thrusted in and out of you. He knew perfectly well that your pleasure wasn't high enough to be the reason of your delightful screams, but feeling you so willing to play along with him sent an adrenaline shot that motivated him to no end.

“Good girl, that's it”

“Oh please more, more more,” your moaned loudly.

The duke almost came as he noticed something moving under the door, but knew better than that. A shadow, maybe two behind. Little perverts.

“They're listening,” he whispered as his hips clapped yours harder.

You laughed again and winked at him behind your shoulder, and after a quick spank on your right asscheek you resumed your show. Sometimes Leto wondered what he had done to deserve you, especially as he felt your begging getting more sincere. No one could know but him.

“I'm close, I'm close already,” you breathed out.

That was what made him go even harder on you. Confusion mixed with genuine pleasure, that was the winning combination for him. If he was the one spying on your words, he would be hard in no time. His guards would certainly touch themselves for days thinking of you but it was worth it. They knew their place and would never dare to do anything to get closer to you. No whore or Lady would equal the fantasies they would have created in their heads. They were not him, and you were not theirs.

He grabbed your hips firmly as you came undone louder than anytime before, your hands desperate for a support as your fingers tried to dig into the covers to keep some balance.

“I'm not done with you,” he mumbled with clenched teeth as he stared at a third shadow joining the other ones.

Having you wrapped so tightly around him was one thing, but knowig he was the only one capable of making you feel that way was even better. You would carry his child or his children one day, he was sure of it. What was the most important right now was that you already worn his colors, his House's. You were his wife that loved it when he decided to make love to you. The wife that loved him dearly no matter what could happen.

Leto repressed a loud moan by pure masculine ego as he emptied himself in you, only allowing himself to breathe out suddenly as he looked down at the trembling mess you were now under his watchBoth fully satisfied with your mischief, you took a shower together briefly, and merely dressed in his new clean outfit Leto left the room like nothing happened with confident steps as three soldiers saluted him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! :D Reblogs are the only thing that counts for the tumblr algorithm so don't hesitate if you want to support fic writers and artists on this platform !

@queen-of-elves @laura-naruto-fan1998 @thepowerthismanhasoverme @justmasblack

#leto atreides #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac #dune fic

[say-al0e]

Roll Along

Rating: PG -13 (Some angst, some language)

Summary: After the battle with Vecna, the future looks bleak. Steve Harrington is there to remind you that it doesn't have to look that way. He knows what it's like to be afraid but, sometimes, looking toward something that seems unrealistic is the only way to keep moving forward. | ft. “I didn’t know where to go,” requested by anon.

Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader (romantic)

Warnings: Vol2 spoilers, canon compliant :(, hurt/comfort, brief Steve’s family fantasy talk, angst and sadness, a mention or two of drugs.

Word Count: 6k

Stranger Things Masterlist 

The little tennis court, nestled in the corner of the old park on the edge of town, had seen better days. Vines crept up the fences, wound around the chainlink so tight it would be next to impossible to tear them down, and the gate had rusted shut some time ago. Cracks marred the dingy green surface around the edges and weeds poked through but the center was smooth enough, devoid of nets and poles and sprigs of green.

A newer park had been built closer to the town’s center, dropped into a location central to the manicured lawns of the nicer neighborhoods, so few people ventured this far out of Hawkins just to use a rusted set of swings and an overgrown pavilion.

A handful of teenagers, kids a few years younger than you but older than the party, smoked on the jungle gym and fooled around by the picnic tables, but they were few and far between. You’d come to an understanding with them, anyway; the park was yours in the morning, when the sun rose high in the sky and cast the overgrown greenery in a warm glow, and theirs when dusk began to fall.

For as long as you could remember, the park was a place for you to disappear. It was the place you went to clear your head - a space you’d claimed as your sanctuary, off limits unless invited by you - and everyone in your life respected that. 

The kids, though desperate to see you, always radioed ahead if they couldn’t find you with one of the others your age. Eddie, who rarely left your side, only appeared if you left a note specifically requesting his presence, and usually appeared with a joint and a book, just in case. Robin rarely ventured that far out of Hawkins and, for the most part, only really tagged along if you were expecting the whole group. And Steve, kind, golden hearted Steve, made it a point to avoid the park - and keep the others away - unless it was an absolutely necessity.

Just as he’d been roped into babysitting, playing chauffeur and devoting your every waking moment to a gaggle of young teenagers, so had you. If anyone understood what it was like to need a break, to desperately need a sanctuary, it was him.

However, that was before Vecna; before the world as you all knew it went straight to hell. These days, alone time was unheard of, rarely granted and certainly not going uninterrupted. Therefore, you were wholly unsurprised to see the deep burgundy BMW roll to a stop near one of the parking spots. The lines had faded so badly that no hint of them remained, though it wasn’t as if that really mattered when the only other car in the vicinity was yours.

Steve was the only one who could drive and had likely drawn the short straw, sent to the park to check on you after you left your walkie stuffed beneath a pillow on your bed. Check-in calls were regular and, if left unanswered, understandably called for more desperate measures these days.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the car door open and a familiar figure clad in light wash jeans and a grey jacket step out into the cool spring air. Even over the mixtape playing, tinny and soft through your headphones, you could hear the door click shut with a faint thud and gravel crunch under his feet as he rounded the car to take a seat on the hood.

Instead of moving closer, walking up to the fence and attempting to catch your eye or taking a seat in one of the rusty benches near the gate, Steve remained where he was. He made no effort to interrupt you and seemed content to simply sit and watch.

The roller skates you purchased secondhand from the rink a few towns over had, like the tennis court, seen better days. The leather was scuffed and faded, wrinkled from years of wear and tear; the toe stop had been worn to nearly nothing, rubber giving way to metal; and the wheels grew looser every time you wore them, but they made you happy. Or, at least, they used to.

Before Vecna, skating was freeing. It was a way for you to lose yourself in the wind blowing through your hair and the rush of wheels flying across pavement. Skating was where you felt safest, where you felt happiest, and you were desperate to feel something good.

Two weeks had passed in a blur, March giving way to April, but the weight on your chest had yet to ease. Every breath you took still hurt, sawed its way free of your lungs and barely inflated them upon its return. The tips of your fingers tingled, body in a suspended state of fight or flight, and you wondered if your limbs would ever stop trembling.

Every drag of your eyelids was sluggish, slow and hesitant, as the dark saw a return of all the things you so desperately wanted to forget. The deep red of Vecna’s lair, the inky black sky above the trailer park, the sticky rust of blood as it pooled beneath your fingertips and stained the brilliant white of Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, the angry mark around Steve’s throat, the tears in Dustin’s eyes.

Each image haunted you, pressed on your chest until you felt as if your heart and lungs might burst, and with each labored breath, you sometimes hoped they would.

Though two weeks had passed, everything still hurt. The bruises and gashes that littered your skin were still noticeable, still ached in a way that told you your body may never feel the same. This battle, like the ones before, had left you scarred - physically, emotionally - and every shift of your body served as a reminder of the hell you’d so recently endured.

Still, you pretended.

Desperately, you pretended that Steve wasn’t there, sitting and watching with those warm brown eyes searching for any hint as to how you felt. You pretended that your lungs didn’t burn with every inhale and that you side didn’t ache where you’d been bitten. You pretended that your neck and chest and sides and legs weren’t littered with wounds that felt as if they might never heal. You pretended that you were alone, skating for the fun of it.

You pretended that your life hadn’t been completely and utterly destroyed in only a matter of days.

For a few long moments - what could’ve been a handful of minutes, possibly even an hour - you rolled around the court. Any other time, you would’ve relished in having Steve’s attention completely to yourself. You would’ve shown off, practiced a few spins and dips and pretty moves that made you feel like a goddess, just to see him smile. You would’ve twirled a little, grinned at him as he laughed, but being the center of his attention didn’t feel quite as important as it had only a few weeks ago.

After everything you’d been through, being at the center of Steve Harrington’s attention now felt hollow.

A pang of regret twisted your stomach, already tied in knots, and you struggled to swallow tears. It wasn’t Steve’s fault that you felt this way, wasn’t his fault you lived in Hawkins - the current center of hell - and it wasn’t fair that you’d read too much into something that, to him, likely meant nothing. It didn’t even matter anymore, not when there were more pressing matters at hand, and you refused to allow yourself to focus on it.

Instead, you focused on keeping your breathing even. The mixtape, a combination of your favorites and a handful of Corroded Coffin originals, drowned out the thoughts and made it easier to keep yourself distracted. It drowned out the anguished cries that played on a loop any time you allowed silence to fall, drowned out the little voice in the back of your head that told you you should be in their place, instead - gone, instead of Eddie; lying in a hospital bed, instead of Max - and made it easier to blink back tears.

The whip of the wind against your skin calmed the fire that had been brewing just beneath the surface. It mellowed the burning anger at how unfair this all seemed, the bitter sorrow at the young lives forever changed, the despair at the friends you lost, the hollow resignation that the future you’d just started to imagine would never come to fruition. The wind carried some of the burden away, eased the weight on your chest only slightly, and you took your first deep breath in two weeks, only slightly surprised that you could smell spring flowers.

Peace was never yours to bask in, however, and all too soon, exhaustion - brought about by your lack of sleep, lack of appetite, lack of desire to do anything other than the bare minimum - caught up to you. As graceful as you’d become on your skates, the distraction of the real world crashing into you sent you stumbling.

On instinct, you caught yourself. As your hands slapped against cracked concrete, the rough surface adding to the scrapes already marring your skin, you could hear the rattle of the fence and the thump of sneakers hitting concrete, even over the tinny sounds pouring from your headphones.

Before you could so much as blink, Steve was at your side. He knelt down, set himself at eye level, and helped you shuffle into a seated position. His hands were warm, careful, as they reached for yours. Soft brown eyes, honeyed in the sunlight, studied your skin in search of any damage - anything he hadn’t already seen, hadn’t already bandaged a handful of times by now - and you couldn’t help shrinking away from the intensity in his gaze.

Steve sighed, the sound more common than nearly any other he seemed to make these days, but remained quiet as his fingers ghosted along your palm. Any other time, he would’ve chastised you for not wearing your protective gear. You could practically recite the speech you and Max got every time you even mentioned skating, the plea for you both to at least wear your wrist guards and a helmet, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place. Instead, he tipped his head to glance at your skates.

“Think your toe stop’s loose,” he observed, one hand leaving yours to tap the worn orange rubber. “I might have a wrench at home. Could take a look, if you’ll let me.”

“S’okay.” The acknowledgement was quiet, a whisper into the still of the afternoon as you tugged your headphones down with your free hand and looped them around your neck. Steve still heard you, however, and lifted his eyes to yours. Sunlight reflected in them, gold flecks glittering with each pass they made across your face, and you struggled to keep yours open as you shook your head. “Think it’s time for new ones, anyway.”

The warmth of Steve’s palm bled into yours, heated your body from within as his fingers tangled with yours. He was careful not to apply pressure, cognizant of the fresh scrapes and the sting you were likely to feel, but the gesture still brought tears to your eyes as you ducked your head.

This was far from the first time Steve had touched you, far from the first time you’d found yourself in this position, but it was the first you’d ever felt this way.

With your chin pressed to your chest, lip quivering and eyes stinging with unshed tears, you wondered how long things would remain this way. Part of it was, undoubtedly, due to the fact that this was the first time you’d been alone since that. For the first time in nearly two weeks, there was no Robin or Dustin or Lucas or Nancy or Mike or Will or Eleven to fill the silence; there was no other body to shuffle into the newly reopened chasm that made the few inches of space separating your bodies feel like an endless expanse.

For the first time in nearly two years, you weren’t really sure what to say to Steve and neither, it seemed, was he.

In the beginning, back when you were just the babysitter and he was the cooler replacement, awkward silences were commonplace. They lingered, long and uncomfortable, and you swore that you had nothing in common with Steve Harrington until he began to break them with a less than smooth babble that made you grin despite yourself.

When things changed, when you ventured into the Upside Down together that first time - Steve’s second encounter with the supernaturally shitty but your first - silences grew less and less frequent.

The more you grew to like Steve - and you really, truly, totally liked him - the more talkative Steve seemed to become. He always filled the silence with fondly exasperated complaints about Dustin, stories about customers, quips Robin made that he figured you’d like; little pieces of his day, moments in his life that you weren’t there for but he felt the need to share with you, anyway.

Sometimes, months after he and Nancy ended their relationship and he decided to start trying again, he gave you an update on his love life. For nearly a year and half, Steve sat with you in the comfort of his car and lamented this date with Linda or that one with Stacey. But that was before he’d asked you to take a chance on him.

In February, not long after Valentine’s Day, Steve asked you to take a chance on him. It wasn’t exactly a surprise - you’d come to terms with your crush nearly a year into your friendship and Steve had, in his own words, followed soon after - but you were taking things slow. You weren’t dating, not officially, not yet, but you’d gone on a handful of dates and, since then, silences had become even less likely.

Now, however, the silence felt crushing.

Some small part of you, the part that had been drowning in misery since stepping back into Hawkins, wanted to allow it to linger. You were tempted to allow it to fester, to grow deeper and heavier until Steve couldn’t stand it and left you alone once more, but you’d been brushing him off for nearly two weeks.

Though you hadn’t been left alone since that night, it wasn’t for Steve’s lack of trying. Soft hands found your skin at least once a day, warm fingers ghosting over the scrapes littering your arms and sides and legs, and honeyed eyes met yours nearly every time you lifted your head. But someone else always needed his attention, just before he could beg you for yours.

Steve had been patient, understanding in the way that only he seemed to be, but you knew that this conversation was necessary. There were a million things you both had to say - a million feelings you were both attempting to process - and you knew that there wouldn’t be another moment like this any time soon.

“I’m sorry.” When your whispered apology escaped into the air, soft in the cool spring breeze, you chanced a glance at Steve’s face and watched him frown. His brows furrowed in confusion, not quite certain what you were apologizing for, and you shook your head, eyes dropping back to your lap. “For disappearing, I guess. I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

The look on his face softened then, shifted into a warm understanding, and you could feel the tears lining your lashes as he moved to sit beside you. Steve shifted closer, his knee knocking against yours, and rested his free hand on your thigh - just beneath a gash that was starting to scar - as he tipped his head to meet your eyes.

“You could’ve come to me.” Though the reminder was soft, warm and gentle and lacking any of the disappointment you’d been expecting, it still made you sniffle as his fingers squeezed yours. Those eyes, capable of seeing right through you, searched your face - for what, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. It seemed as if he found it, however, when he shot you a soft smile. “I know I’ve taken a few hits to the head but my hearing’s still pretty good. I’m a good listener.”

Steve’s gentle reminder should’ve eased the ache in your chest. His presence, so typically charming and bright, should’ve cooled the burn in your lungs and quieted the cacophony of thoughts drowning out rationality, but it only served to make your heart beat just a touch faster.

Regardless of how many times he’d been there for you in the past - when you dove into the Upside Down after a gaggle of children, horrified to learn what lived beneath your feet; when you followed him on a reconnaissance mission and ended up captured, tortured by Russian soldiers beneath StarCourt; when your best friend disappeared, nowhere to be found and suddenly public enemy number one, after the body of a cheerleader appeared in his living room - that was then.

In only a handful of days, everything had changed and this time, you couldn’t fathom letting him in.

The sudden storm of emotions was understandable - something Steve would get, if only you could adequately convey the feeling to him - and no fault of his. He had no control over the town you both lived in, no control over the events leading up to this moment, and no ability to predict anything that happened in the span of two utterly soul crushing weeks. 

Still, shutting down seemed easier than letting him when that storm included feelings that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t seem to matter all that much, anyway.

“There’s a lot of shit going on,” you reminded him, as if he needed it. Regardless, Steve squeezed your fingers lightly instead of scoffing because if anyone was keenly aware of the situation at hand, it was Steve. “Dustin, Lucas, Robin; they’re all coming to you. I just… I didn’t want to pile on, didn’t want to bother you.”

Immediately, Steve shook his head, just as you expected. For all of his confidence, for his wit and the moments of levity he provided, for his past reputation and all the things that entailed, Steve Harrington had a heart of gold. He put others above himself at any given turn and, though he had his own trauma to process, he would do whatever he could to be a shoulder for Lucas or Dustin or Robin or you.

“There’s no way you could ever bother me,” he promised, eyes searching yours as he leaned in closer. “Especially after…” His gaze fell to the silver chain around your neck, suddenly impossibly heavy and blistering the skin it touched, and you lifted your hand to cradle the warm metal of Eddie’s ring. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We haven’t really talked."

Though Eddie and Steve hadn’t known one another well - they’d shared a handful of classes in school, met in passing occasionally, but their only shared interests were you and Dustin, and Steve had been mildly jealous that not only did you spend your free time with Eddie, he’d managed to capture Dustin’s attention, too - he knew how it felt to have your world upended.

Steve hadn’t lost anyone in the way that you had - not yet, though Max was too close for comfort - but he understood.

That understanding was clear in the way he looked at you, the way his hand caressed your thigh and his fingers wrapped tight around yours, but you still shook your head. Talking about it would make it real, make the ache in your chest burn that much hotter, and you couldn’t stand it. “I should be the one asking you how you’re doing.” You gestured to his side, eyeing the bulk in his shirt where bandages still remained wrapped tight and frowned. “How’s your side?”

“Babe.” Steve’s reprimand was mild, lacking any heat at all, but it still pulled a quiet sigh from you as he knocked his knee into yours.

“Steve.”

With a roll of his eyes, Steve shook his head and gently untangled your fingers to trace the scrapes lining your palm. “It’s starting to scar. I’ll be fine,” he assured you, fingers a featherlight touch dragging across your heated skin. “Talk to me, please.”

There was an underlying desperation in Steve’s tone, a pleading that hadn’t been there the last time he spoke to you, but you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nothing felt real - Eddie being gone, Max physically there but hanging on by a thread, Dustin walking around as a shell of himself - and you were afraid that breathing it aloud would make it so.

It took every ounce of your strength to hold yourself together, to cling to the fraying threads of your sanity, and letting Steve know how shattered you were - how empty you felt, knowing that your best friend was gone; how lost you felt, not knowing if the girl you’d come to view as a sister would make it; how devastated you felt, seeing Dustin walk around openly displaying the emotions you swallowed bitterly - would only make it harder to pick up the pieces.

Steve would do whatever he could to help, you knew that, but you didn’t want his help. So, instead of answering him, you shifted the conversation. “Where’s Nancy?”

Though that wasn’t the answer he wanted, it was one Steve had seen coming.

For nearly as long as you’d known him, you trusted Steve with your feelings. If anyone knew how you felt, it was him. However, those conversations were always had on your time. Until you were ready to speak, you would deflect and brush off his questions; until you’d catalogued the emotions for yourself and made sense of them, you moved on to topics you deemed safer.

Everyone gave him plenty of shit but Steve Harrington wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen the whispered conversations you held with Eddie, how both sets of eyes wandered to him and Nancy before everything went straight to hell. Looking back, he knew what it must’ve looked like to you, to Eddie - who was only looking out for his best friend.

Still, he swallowed a sigh as he squeezed your fingers gently. “With Jonathan,” he answered easily, “where she should be.”

“Oh. I just thought…” 

The implication was obvious, clear without a need for you to spell it out. Steve knew what you thought. Robin knew. Eddie knew. The kids knew. Nancy knew. 

Before the world imploded around everyone, they’d all seen it. Steve hadn’t realized it at the time - a little too caught up in the moment - but he’d been preoccupied with Nancy and you’d felt left out. He’d brushed it off at first, decided that you were busy with Eddie and he was helping out elsewhere, but after talking with Robin, he realized how the situation could’ve been viewed.

Though you’d only been on a handful of dates, it was clear that the events of the previous weeks had you wondering if venturing further would be a good idea.

It wasn’t entirely about Nancy and he knew that. There was insecurity there, a little bit of nervous energy - Steve wore his heart on his sleeve and Nancy still held a piece of it, without question - but you weren’t really that upset. This was just the safest card to pluck from the stack, the one that would hurt the least if it sent you tumbling.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been with you. I just,” Steve began, voice soft in the cool spring breeze. “I don’t… I don’t have feelings for Nancy anymore, really. I just think I’ll always be a little… Not in love, just, you know when you see the past better than it was?”

His explanation was a little clumsy, a little rushed as he tried to find his footing, but you understood, anyway. “Nostalgic?”

Steve nodded, grateful for the assistance, and continued. “Mm, yeah. Nostalgic. I’m not in love with her anymore but she’s always going to be nostalgic and when all this shit happens, it just brings it back. I got caught up in the past, how easy it was to run from the future, but maybe that’s because I realized she’s not my future, though, not anymore. My future is… different, now,” Steve explained, brows furrowing as he tilted his head.

Warm brown eyes met yours, honeyed in the sunlight, and searched for any hint of understanding. There was a desperation lingering in his eyes, a frenzied panic you’d only seen in the heavy aftermath of one Upside Down adventure or another, and this time, you knew your own held the same.

The weight of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin, calmed the racing of your heart, if only slightly. His presence made it easy for you to admit, “I kinda stopped thinking about my future a while ago. It’s stupid but I think I’ve only thought of it once or twice in the past few years.”

A denim clad knee knocked into your own, careful to avoid the scrapes and bruises still marring your skin, as Steve nodded encouragingly. “Why?”

“I don’t know. After that first time, following you and the kids into the Upside Down, I just… I guess I figured I’d never get one. It always felt like living on borrowed time after that.”

Though you’d been close for years, friends - with the potential for more now, on the verge of a love that could leave you both shattered - you’d never admitted your fear to Steve. You’d talked about the Upside Down a bit, held him through a handful of nightmares and fearful admissions related to the kids safety and their futures, but you’d never shared your own feelings.

There was never a question that he knew - Steve could read you well, could see through you in ways others couldn’t - and when you spared him a quick glance, you were surprised by the sadness reflected in his eyes. There was an understanding there, a depth you hadn’t expected, and you quickly returned your gaze to your battered skates.

“Before the Upside Down shit, Eddie and I were supposed to move to Indianapolis,” you admitted, voice a whisper in the wind as you squeezed Steve’s fingers. “We were supposed to graduate. Eighty-five was going to be our year. We saved up for ages. I worked at the diner, Eddie worked at Thatcher’s, and we both pulled doubles as often as we could. We had enough to start out, to find a shitty apartment and just get out of Hawkins. Then…”

Steve’s fingers tightened in your own, still careful to avoid anything that might hurt - anything that might cause you pain - but a reassuring weight as you drew in a shaking breath. He knew parts of this, had been privy to a handful of conversations between you and Eddie, but you’d never admitted anything quite so serious and his attention was solely on you.

“Then, we were dealing with all the Upside Down shit and Eddie didn’t graduate and my future fell apart in the span of six months. I could’ve left Hawkins but I couldn’t leave Eddie here to deal with that shit alone. I couldn’t leave Dustin and Mike and Lucas and Will and El and Max. I couldn’t leave you. My future was ripped away and I didn’t want to replace that vision because having it taken from me would hurt even worse the second time. So, I just… stopped.”

As you spoke, Steve’s hand remained steady in yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on your face, warming your skin, but the blood rushing in your ears drowned out anything other than the need to speak. You’d kept your fears to yourself for nearly two years, locked away, and now, there was nothing you could do but share them.

“If I made it to the next week after all that shit, that was more than I expected. When my parents asked me about school, I didn’t know what to tell them because going to school in Indianapolis felt impossible. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for another gate to open or for something to happen to someone I loved. And then you asked me out and I started thinking about a future, just… It was just a little but I saw a light, you know?” A quiet laugh, devoid of any humor, escaped as you brought your free hand to your face to wipe at tears.

“Nearly a year without any supernatural bullshit, a guy I really like wanting to go out with me, my best friend on the verge of graduating, the kids being happy, Robin being happy. It felt like a future was possible. But… you and Nancy, and then Max, and Eddie, and I just… Honestly, being upset about you and Nancy feels like the dumbest thing in the world right now but everything just feels hopeless. That was just another thing the universe could take from me and now I just see darkness. I don’t see a future. The people I love don’t get one, might not get one, why should I?”

There was little that Steve could say and you knew that. However, that did nothing to stop him from sighing quietly and untangling his fingers from yours. He lifted his newly freed hand to your jaw and splayed his fingers across your wind-cooled skin. His thumb brushed at your skin idly as he tilted your head to meet your eyes. There was a sorrow in them you’d never seen before, a bitter sadness that Steve Harrington had never seemed capable of, and it made the ache in your chest that much heavier as you blinked away tears.

“I wish I knew what to say to fix everything, but I don’t.” Steve’s voice cracked, if only slightly, with his soft admission. It was little more than a whisper in the wind but it lingered heavy in the air as he searched your eyes. “I do know what it’s like to be afraid. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for years,” he confessed, eyes glittering in the sunlight. “There’s always something out there, waiting, especially here in Hawkins. I know that. I’ve seen it. And I know it’s hard to see past that at what could be but that’s what keeps me going. Thinking that one day, all this shit will have been worth it, gets me through the day.”

As warm fingers traced your rapidly heating skin, brushing at the few stray tears that managed to fall despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but wonder what kept Steve going. What vision of the future could be so motivating as to keep him moving when everything felt so fucking hopeless? So, you asked, “What does this future look like?”

Steve smiled then, a little sad and a little embarrassed, but real enough to make your heart flutter as he tipped his chin toward his chest.

“I always thought I’d stay in Hawkins, but maybe not now. Now, I imagine a suburb outside of the city, maybe, so I could work there and come home to a quiet little neighborhood full of families. The Harrington house would never be quiet, though, because I always see myself with a big family.”

“How big is big?” The answer didn’t matter, not really - not when that big family likely didn’t include you, not when you couldn’t see that family yourself - but hearing Steve speak managed to soothe the shaking of your fingers, if only for a moment. It kept you from dwelling, from throwing yourself into a spiral that would be nearly impossible to come back from, so you tilted your head to glance at him and smiled when his cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh, massive. Like, six little nuggets. Just a whole brood of Harringtons,” he admitted, smiling when you raised an eyebrow. His laughter was a touch more real, genuine and soft, when he shook his head. “I know it sounds insane but that’s always been a dream of mine.”

Despite Steve’s soft, self-deprecating laughter, you were quick to shake your head. “It doesn’t sound insane,” you assured him, a little too quick. It sounded like Steve - desperate to fill a hole left in his heart by his own absent parents, eager to have the family he was never given - and, though the future was dark, you hoped he got it. “It sounds miserable for your future wife because that’s a lot of babies but it doesn’t sound insane. It makes sense for you, honestly. The way you love the kids… You’ll be a good dad someday, Steve.”

Steve hesitated, only for a moment, before lifting his gaze back to yours. “I know we’re not, you know, official,” he began, fingers stroking your jaw as he searched your eyes, “but I’ve had feelings for you for a while. And when I think about the future, I don’t see Nancy beside me. I see you. I know now’s probably not the best time to tell you that. I just hope that maybe someday, you’ll be able to see a future and I’ll be there, too.” A beat of silence passed, in which Steve’s brows furrowed and his mouth curved into a soft frown, before he added, “Max is going to have a future. She’s going to be okay. And Eddie… Eddie would want you to keep going, to make it out of Hawkins and live your life. You deserve a future.”

Realistically, you knew that.

If there was anyone who would’ve wanted you to carry on, to continue living even as you faced down literal demons and the agony of losing the only constant you’d ever had, it was Eddie. He would’ve wanted you to keep going, to live, even if it was under the guise of living for the both of you. However he had to push you, he would have, and that knowledge - along with the realization that Eddie wouldn’t get to tell you that himself - was the final straw.

If Steve was surprised by your tears, he didn’t show it. Instead, he released his grip on your jaw and gathered you in his arms. His hands, warm and soft, stroked your back gently as your hands gathered the fabric of his shirt and held tight. His arms were a comfort, strong and capable of protecting you from the world, and though your world was crumbling around you, you felt safe in his grasp.

“I know, babe,” he whispered, voice soft as he stroked your skin. “I know.”

Though you and Dustin had broken down just outside the ruins of Wayne’s trailer, fell apart even faster when you shoveled dirt into an unmarked plot of land that was nowhere even close to what Eddie deserved, this was the first time you’d cried in two weeks and as the tears fell, it felt as if they may never stop.

After a few long moments, you found it in yourself to speak. “Steve?” He hummed, acknowledging, and waited patiently for you to speak. “I don’t see a future right now but… could you keep me in yours? Just… just for a little while?”

It was potentially unfair, not quite the question that you should be asking in a moment of such vulnerability, but Steve didn’t hesitate.

The arms around your middle wrapped a little tighter, pressed to your skin just a touch firmer, and despite the awkward position, you were in no hurry to move. Neither, it seemed, was Steve. He hummed in your ear readily, the sound reverberating in his chest, as you felt him nod. “Of course, babe. I’ll keep you as long as you’ll let me.”

The future looked dark, bleak and miserable, because the person you’d always pictured sharing it with was no longer with you. However, there was a pinprick of light, way off in the distance, that told you there might be something out there for you, anyway.

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: This got away from me. Anyway, posting early ‘cause I’m going to a bar. I’m not sure if I’m hoping the guy will be there or not. Anyway. Back to your regularly scheduled Eddie next.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

If you’re not tagged, it’s because Tumblr wouldn’t let me!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington/reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst #v's fics

[shitpostingkats]

Yu-Gi-Oh Review Roundup: DM!

Favorite main character: Joey Wheeler

Okay, let me just fully reveal all of biases here: Heart of Gold, Dumb of Ass. Characters who have never experienced a single thought in their entire lives because their brain is too busy running Friendship.EXE 24/7. Real golden retrievers of people. I wanna look at a character and know that the only thing running around in their cavernous, empty skull is *sparkly heart emoji*

Joey Wheeler is perhaps the pinnacle of this thriving subspecies. I don’t know what more to say than that. He just makes me happy.

As someone also suffering from Chronic Dumbass Disorder, I always adore shows and media where idiots are included in the friend group. It’s very easy to preach love from a pulpit of Smart, Successful, Capable, Well Rounded Characters. But the character that’s allowed to screw up? To constantly be just shy of achievement, but never feels any angst for it, because they know it’s not what their friends love about them. It’s the reciprocal act of loving like an idiot. And that being enough. 

Very good. 10/10. Inspiring to us fellow himbos.

Favorite antagonist: Marik Ishtar

And, at the complete opposite end of the Character Tropes I Go Bananas For scale: Maverick Blishtar. 

While I’m a tad shy of the proper age to truly have nostalgia for DM, there’s no denying the sheer style the first series burst out of the gate with. And Marik is truly the pinnacle of Battle City Iconic. Amazing gender. The perfect blend of (then) contemporary street fashion and ancient egyptian iconography. He’s just. So fantastically yugioh. 

And then, on top of that, he’s such a genuinely well grounded character, with a backstory and motives that feel very human, despite being about literally underground cults and ancient magic. Marik is, fundamentally, an angry, sheltered teenager, lashing out at the world with an anger too big for his age. You know: a teenager. As much as I adore villains like Pegasus and Kaiba, Marik manages to have the Campy Gay Villain Style while also being a very understandable, and surprisingly relatable, villain. 

(And, quick note, my other character weakness, aside from Pure Of Heart, Dumb Of Ass, is any fictional character whose arc can remotely correlate to the struggles of living with depression. I just. Cannot stress enough how impactful it is to every version of myself as a Consumer Of Media. I’m cutting myself short here, because this is meant to be a quick review and I might make an essay on the topic someday, but I wanted to touch on it very lightly, because it is not only a major reason why I adore Marik, but it’s gonna come up in my reviews of these shows again and again. Yugioh is a show that depicts depressed characters in a way that just. Makes me feel felt. And that’s important for me to say.)

Favorite side character: Mai Valentine

Anyway, heavy stuff out of the way! Mai “Girl” Valentine, everyone! 

She is very neat. :)

I mean, what more is there to say about a self sufficient, young woman who’s perfectly comfortable with her self, acts as a guiding older sister to the main friend group, and also rides a motorcycle??? Absolutely nothing. She is a lovely lass. 

I mean, you could talk about how she is the first victim on yugioh female characters having their most interesting character development when they’re momentarily evil, which, yes, is not exactly the most feminist win. But! There’s too many overly long think pieces one could write about shonen anime girls, and that’s not what I’m setting out to do today! And besides, the pattern is more worthy of criticism than its individual examples. So, here’s your complimentary grain of salt. Now, back to my favorite harpy lady.

In her first duel, she claims to have esp, when in fact both fake-psychics and real-psychics are a dime a dozen in this world. You know what’s actually impressive??? Being able to pick out individual strains of perfume from a forty card deck that’s been doused in as many fragrances. Beating up an entire biker gang while also on a bike and by throwing pieces of cardboard as weapons. Spending days trapped in the shadow realm, surrounded on all sides by magical projections of her own loneliness and fear of rejection, then coming back to life and deciding to use this once in a lifetime opportunity to play the fun prank of temporarily faking her death and making her friends think she’s gone forever. 

What a gal.

Favorite duel: Yami vs. Yugi

Probably my favorite thing about the entirety of DM. Yes, there are some fantastic duels in the series: Yugi vs Pegasus, Bakura vs. Yami Marik, Kaiba vs. Ishizu. But the final fight between Yami and Yugi is where I truly got yugioh. 

I originally started watching yugioh as a time filler, something I could throw on in the background as a white noise while I sewed, or a wind-down right before I went to bed. While the characters were fun, and the monsters very cool and colorful, I found it very easy to zone out whenever duels took centerstage. I actually went digging through my old discord messages before writing this review, and found this quote, from myself, that really summarizes my thought on duels at the time:

But then I got to the finale. And everything clicked.

For once, I saw the card game as not just a brightly animated frame-filler, but an integral part of conveying the story. I wasn’t just waiting for Yugi to play enough turns until he could claim his inevitable victory; I was on the edge of my seat to see exactly how he would outmaneuver his opponent. And I genuinely cheered and gasped and got choked up watching it all unfold.

The finale fight was when I truly became invested in the card game aspect of yugioh, not just as a framework on which to hang the most insane anime worldbuilding, but as a truly unique way of delivering narrative that you can’t get anywhere else.

The time taken for deckbuilding does a lot to set up the duel. Yami and Yugi having to go through their shared card pool and picking out which card from the formerly homogeneous playstyle is truly theirs. Yami goes for the flashy monsters; the royalty, the big beasts, the cards he had a personal connection to in his past life. While Yugi has cutesy-er monsters that are more than meets the eye. The entire dramatic question of the finale is “Is that enough?”

Can those smol kidsy monsters match up to the King of Games partnership? Can they surpass it?

And then the actual duel, and the back and forth finishing of both arcs is wonderfully represented in the plays. The entire premise of this show started off with a vengeful ghost, violently punishing anyone who he can trick into a game, and now here he is, playing a fun game with a friend and actually enjoying himself. There’s gentle ribbing and friendly conversation during a duel for almost the first time. And yes, that’s mostly because all the opponents up till now have been villains trying to rob/murder people, but that goes even further to show how much Yami has grown! Because he used to be that villain dark magic baddie! Yami goes out with a smile and a thumbs up, happy to finally lose his crown.

On Yugi’s end of things, he proves that scrappy friendship he’s been touting around through the entire show can stand toe-to-toe with literal gods. And through Yami, he’s learned not only how to stand up for himself, but the technical skills of the game, leading to his victory. The Yami-Yugi dynamic is PERFECTLY summed up by the shiny, radiant god of the sun, equally matched (and eventually beaten!) by a pink marshmallow.

The Yami vs. Yugi fight is where I coined the phrase that has been guiding my principles in enjoying this franchise: The Rule Of Duel. That in any good yugioh fight, the game should strive to spend 50% of itself building and conveying character. And 50% of itself being PURE UNAPOLOGETICALLY AWESOME.

The closer a duel comes to that perfect Rule Of Duel ratio of 50/50, the closer it is to being the platonic ideal of yugioh story telling.

And by that metric, the Yami vs. Yugi fight is damn near perfect.

Favorite arc: Waking the Dragons

I know. I was surprised too.

At first, this choice was determined by process of elimination. Like I said, for most of its runtime, DM was very passive viewing for me, since I had yet to be bitten by the yugioh bug.

But as I started to think on it more, Waking The Dragons really is my favorite arc of the original show. Look, it has “dragons” in the title! That's like, a guarantee on 100% more dragons!

I think it’s in the fact that WtD feels like it has the least internal friction between the manga, the anime, and the 4kids dub. Probably because there isn’t a manga to conflict with. The americanized saturday morning cartoon feel isn’t fighting as harshly with the heavier tones, and rather, Dartz’s insane magic atlantis story feels just as natural as Seto Kaiba himself; ridiculous, over-the-top, and perfectly at home in the wild worldbuilding of the universe that runs on card games. Also, as a mythology nerd, this arc completely blindsided me by having a bunch of researched and under-utilized details about its Atlantis, like using Plato’s concentric ring city, non-greco-roman architecture, or the names of the dialogues for the arc’s dragon trinity.

Also, it’s some of my favorite character growth for Yami; forcing him to deal with consequences to his actions. Yugi and Yami are the central duo of the show, yet get very little story diving into their actual interactions and relationship. I really liked getting to see that dynamic explored, as well as Yami’s god-king complex brought down a peg. Good growth, good adventures, and just the thickest veneer of kids television charm.

Listen, sometimes, it’s not about the writing. It’s about how many dragons Seto Kaiba can summon before the building explodes.

Greatest strengths of the series:

Undeniably, its sheer style. Yugioh DM changed the entire definition of shonen drip. Its eclectic mix of occult, punk, and streetwear, with the sharp points of ink and eyeliner alike, really is something to behold. And applaud, seeing as how many works are still drawing influence from it, over two decades later. Duel Monsters really set the bar with such a strong visual identity and I think, without it, the series simply wouldn’t have grown into what it is today.

In terms of writing, the narrative bandies about a strong sense of duality, on what the “good” and “evil” parts of the self really contribute to as whole person. Marik is probably my favorite example, exploring whether that darkness in the soul should be eradicated, even at the cost of ones self.

 And the answer is: it shouldn’t.

Obviously, Yami Marik is defeated because, come on, this is an action driven card game anime, but the idea that og Marik was willing to sacrifice himself to do it. Killing the thing inside you at any costs. Including your own life.

Don’t do it. Instead, focus on making as much of yourself the you that you want to see survive. Overtake the Yami. Preservation of the self is the most radical form of self care, yet also the most difficult and tiring decision one can make. And it’s worth making.

Because there’s always. Always. A chance to heal.

Weakest points:

Those narrative high points, however, do come few and far between. If I could levy one criticism against DM, (as a story, not a show) it’s that it’s long. And it sometimes lacks direction. You really feel as DM violently jerks back and forth between being a pg-horror, an advertisement, a kitschy adventure anime, and a saturday morning cartoon, like a confused bumper car on a rusty track. None of the elements are bad, but they’re all somewhat fighting with each other. They haven’t properly coalesced yet into anything more than the sums of their parts.

The duels haven’t hit their stride yet either. The fights are long, and they rarely feel like they convey anything more than twenty minutes of screentime with a three minute ad break. And there’s so many of them. For every Yugi vs Kaiba, there’s at least a dozen Yugi vs. Random Joe We Don’t Really Care About. Again, early days of the formula, this is very much a trial by fire that will go on to be the foundations of some of my favorite Yugioh Serotonin.

(Also, I have no idea what is actually going on in the final season and at this point I’m scared to ask.)

Most yugioh moment:

When Kaiba loses Battle City, and grumpily announces to everyone that he will now blow up the entire island. Then flying away in a giant dragon shaped jet.

(Kaiba actually contributes to 98% of The Most Yugioh moments in the entire franchise, so I’ve disqualified him from any future runnings but. I can’t deny him his crown, not when I’m standing amidst the landscape of his kingdom.)

#yugioh #yugioh dm #yugioh duel monsters #yu-gi-oh! #yu-gi-oh #ygo #ygo dm #spk's ygo reviews #essays #review #yugi mutou #seto kaiba #marik ishtar #yami yugi #mai valentine #joey wheeler

[ramim]

Mending a broken heart

the prompt: hey so I had a prompt you can pick it up if you want if not that's cool too, but a modern elucien situation, and it's the memory loss trope... so the 1st time they fell in love, it was Lucien who pursued elain and elain was kinda skeptical, but now it's lucien with the memory loss and he has no idea who this woman is that's claiming to be his fiancée and just, ✨angst✨

Author notes: thank to the amazing @foxybananaaaz for tagging me in this prompt, it was my first Elucien fanfiction and I had a lot of fun writing this.

Summary: Lucien loses his memory in an accident and forgets about his relationship with Elain, this time around, it's Elain's turn to persuade the love they had...but is she going to? that's the question!

......

It broke Lucien’s heart when Elain chose Greyson. No one saw it coming; Lucien and Elain were close since elementary school. Feyre still remembered walking in on them braiding each other’s hair in an empty storage room of their high school. It was when the truth about Lucien’s parentage had come out and everything went to hell. Feyre recalled those days vividly because Lucien had spent 3 weeks at their place after Beron Vanserra kicked him out of his house and Lucien’s true father was too busy keeping Lucien’s mother hidden from Beron’s wrath to realize his son needed protection as well.

Lucien had knocked on their door in the middle of the night, his black eye and split lip telling more than he himself was willing to. But even though those three weeks were a semblance of hell for Lucien, they brought joy to Feyre’s heart. She always dreamed of having an older brother, a partner in crime! And even though Nesta had very masculine energy, she was not the one to accompany Feyre on her adventure and even if she was, she wouldn’t do it with Feyre…they weren’t really close back then.

Lucien though…he would go to hell and back with Feyre if it was fun enough, and oh it was! They had three weeks of relentless mischief and trouble and when it was over…well, it felt like the ending of an era…

Eventually, Lucien’s real father came looking for him. The guy was too young to know how to be a father to a teenage boy! Especially a teenage boy like Lucien who had always been too wise and too observant for his age; Lucien saw through his father’s act in less than a second. He saw that the guy had no idea how to be responsible, how to be a parent! He saw that Helion was more of a free soul and that he was playing the part of a caring father for Lucine’s mother’s sake. Considering he had no interest in interfering with his parents’ reunion, he moved in with his eldest brother, Eris, for a while until he turned 18 and got his own place.

Years passed and even though Lucien moved on from his initial disdain toward a father who never wanted a son, their relationship never got to the point where Lucien could call him father. They had this distant friendship sort of relationship, and even though Helion desperately tried to get better at being there for Lucien, Lucien had moved past the point of needing a father… he needed a friend though, and Helion to his credit did his best. His best though never erased the memory of three weeks of being homeless from Lucien’s mind.

Feyre looked first at Elain’s crying form and then at Lucien’s motionless and mangled figure on the hospital bed; the hospital called Elain in the middle of the night! Rhys was on his way back from a work trip and Elain and Lucien were staying over to help her with Nyx. He was teething and Feyre didn’t know how to take care of a teething baby; Lucien had seen a hack on IG that if you put a teether toy in freezer and then give it to the baby to bite on, it helps them with the pain of their gums… Feyre had no teether toy in the house so Lucien went out to buy one; they got worried when he didn’t return…Elain called him like a thousand times and when eventually he called back, it was the hospital.

Feyre choked on a sob and stifled her voice with her hand… Nyx was with Nesta, and Cassian was in the hospital corridor pacing back and forth. Feyre could hear his mind reeling from here. She wanted to be strong for her sister; Elain was crying uncontrollably; her shoulders were shaking as she cried and Feyre could see she was just one step away from breaking.

They had celebrated their engagement only 4 days ago and after all the things their love had gone through…after all the waiting and yearning, it felt like a cruel joke to see them like that!

After Elain chose Greyson, Lucien broke; like literally broke! Rhys took him under his wings after Lucien lost his previous job due to not actually being there and Feyre and him got even closer by sharing the same workspace.

At first, Feyre thought it would be hard to be Elain’s sister and Lucien’s friend at the same time, but Lucien refused to even talk about Elain, let alone expecting Feyre to pick a side or something! Truth be told, if Lucien had asked Feyre to pick a side, Feyre would pick Lucien’s!

Guilt surged through her as she thought of picking anyone’s side but her sister, but time had proved her right! Greyson was a piece of garbage and everyone could see that except Elain and eventually he cheated on her with one of Elain’s friends at his bachelor party! Elain cancelled the wedding immediately but losing Greyson was hard for her… back in time, every time Elain had boy problems, Lucien was there for her; but with Greyson, she couldn’t go to Lucien to seek comfort! Lucien was with Jes back then madly in love with her and even if it wasn’t for that, Elain had rejected Lucien and all the years they had been friends with each other for Greyson; she stopped her friendship with Lucien because Greyson was too insecure to have a girlfriend who had a male best friend.

Time passed and Elain went on and off in a few relationships, the last one was Azriel, Rhys’s brother; but she couldn’t stay with any of them, none of them had the light she needed to live with.

And then Jesminda died! She was shot by a drunk Beron Vanserra and everything went to hell. Feyre shivered as she remembered Lucien’s heart-wrenching screams at Jes’s funeral. Later, Feyre found out that they were expecting a baby…

It took Lucien four years to move on; he knocked on Elain’s door and broke into tears, after that…after 8 years of distance, they were friends again.

Lucien wanted more than friendship though… he wanted Elain to be his life as he put it but Elain was reluctant…she didn’t want to be a replica of a love Lucien had lost! It took months and months of nonstop begging from Lucien’s part and halfhearted rejections from Elain’s part but eventually, on a beautiful spring night Elain realized that Lucien had loved him long before Greyson and Jes came into the picture.

Feyre sighed again and looked at her phone; she had called Lucien’s parents and siblings, she had called his other friends and they all were on their way to the hospital. Feyre was devastated, she didn’t know how to tell them the news. An unsafe lorry had lost its balance in front of Lucien’s car and all the rebars it was carrying were unloaded on Lucien’s car… the doctors had told Feyre that one of the rebars had penetrated through his eyes and reached his brain; they said it was a miracle that he was still alive, that he would definitely lose his eyesight and the brain damage he suffered couldn’t be estimated until he woke up.

When would he wake up? They didn’t know…

***

He woke up after three months, his face scarred and his memory…gone.

Feyre died a little bit inside every time she saw her sister’s face when Lucien asked about Jes. Feyre’s heart broke for Lucien when they had to tell him for the second time that Jesminda was gone. Feyre lost control of her tears when she handed Nyx to Lucien and Lucien whispered to Nyx: “we were going to have a girl you know, you could be best friends like your auntie and I were.”

This time around, Helion wasted no time being there for Lucien; if Lucien wanted water, Helion already had the glass ready; if Lucien needed a walk, Helion already had the wheelchair ready. But as Lucien got closer to his parent, he drifted apart from Elain. For all he cared, Jes was gone and his world was too ruined to be fixed by anyone, even Elain. And as Lucien healed from his injuries, Elain stood behind closed doors, never getting too close, never showing her face to Lucien. And just like Lucien’s memory, Elain faded from his life.

Until one day, Azriel of all people snapped at her.

***

Azriel had never shown any sort of disdain toward Lucien in front of Feyre but through Rhys, Feyre knew that Azriel never got over the fact that Elain left him saying she was not ready for a serious relationship, only to start dating Lucien a few months later; he got better after he and Gwyn got together, but still…Lucien’s presence seemed like a constant thorn in his side.

So, it surprised Feyre to see the man making friends with Lucien so quickly! Their relationship started as a colleague sort of thing. Lucien used to work in the marketing part of Rhys’s and hers company while Azriel gathered intel and data about their rival companies and their business plans. What they did was connected but they never had to directly work with each other.

After the accident though, due to the freshness of Jes’s loss and their baby for Lucien, he had trouble getting out of his shell and socialize like his usual self, especially since the scar on his face and prosthetic eye was so new and unrecognizable for him.

Rhys and Feyre both decided to let him work under Azriel’s provision until he gets ready to go back doing his old job. The more they spent time together, the better Azriel realized why there was no one better than Lucien for Elain.

“He reminds me of Gwyn when I’m at work and away from her” he told Feyre once while they were in Nyx’s room, watching him trying to make a castle out of his pillows and the aroma of Elain’s freshly baked scones were filling their noses, an amused smile was on his face and Feyre jabbed at him playfully: “that must be the red hair…you obviously have a thing for gingers” Azriel had laughed at that, his face light and dreamy. “But seriously…it’s not the red hair. He is grieving now; I can see it every day! But even through his grief, he feels the need to cheer me or our other coworker up. No matter how many times I tell him I am a serious person by nature, he still believes there is something in my mind that bothers me and he tries to take my mind away from it.

“He has always been like that.” Feyre provided thoughtfully “after his mother ran away from Beron and he was left alone, he stayed in our house. We were friends before, but when he started living with us, he felt as though I needed someone, a friend. He started taking me with him on his adventures…we robbed a bakery once, I’m not proud of that of course, but oh it was fun! Both of us ended up in the hospital for food poisoning later. It was awful.” She laughed fondly at the memory; but Azriel’s face darkened a bit. “what’s wrong Az?” Feyre asked while leaning forward a bit.

‘Elain is leaving him without even giving it a try” he huffed angrily, as if Elain’s course of actions toward Lucien had personally offended him “she is leaving him without giving him a chance to even try to be with her again!”

Feyre shook her head “She has always been like that…too prone to give up on the good things in her life!” Feyre said while grief filled her heart; it took those two years to get together as a couple. Feyre knew that Elain had always loved Lucien, first as a friend and then as a lover. She knew that Elain wanted Lucien more than anything in her life. They were the most fitted couple Feyre had ever seen; they complete each other like two pieces of a puzzle. They both were like shining stars, bright and alive. But Elain had never learned to fight for anything or anyone… and she wasn’t going to start now. She would rather wallow in the grief of losing Lucien rather than carry the burden of his grief with him.

Azriel wrinkled his nose and made a noise, expressing his disdain toward the whole ordeal. Feyre looked him in the eyes, his amber orbs were shining with something…with a decision.

And before Feyre could stop her, he sprang out of Nyx’s room.

Next thing she knew, Azriel was shouting on top of his lungs at him and the whole house seemed to shake.

***

“You are a stupid self-pitying idiot who wouldn’t know shit about anything even if they were dangling in front of your face!” Azriel shouted at Elain, his nostrils flaring with anger and the famous vein on his forehead bulging. Feyre ran down the stairs with Nyx in her arms, Elain was sitting on the sofa, tears in her eyes and her lower lip wobbling, she seemed content in taking whatever insult Azriel was throwing at her.

Her contentment though, seemed to piss off Azriel even more! “Are you going to sit there like a simpering fool and do nothing while he drifts again? He knows you to were together before the accident! What do you think it makes him feel, you coward!? He thinks you’re not perusing your relationship because how he looks right now! What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growled the last sentence with a sort of desperation Feyre had only seen in Cassian or Rhys…never Az though! Az always was to calculated to snap like that.

Elain’s crying turned to a pitiful hiccup as Azriel spitted the last words out. Feyre felt her heart tightening, she shifted Nyx in her arms and took a step forward to go to her sister, to comfort her; but someone grabbed her arm, she turned around, it was Nesta. She shook her head “Don’t cuddle her, she has to hear this”. Feyre looked at her hesitantly. Throughout their life, Elain had always been cuddled, either by their father or Nesta…and after her break up with Greyson, she was so fragile that even Feyre started cuddling her. After all Lucien was the only person who brought out the wild side of Elain’s nature out! Elain was a whole other person when she was with Lucien, freer, more at ease…more herself!

Feyre nodded in agreement just as she heard Azriel livid voice shaking the living room “I don’t care what’s going in your stupid head, or if you even think about the things you do! I don’t care! Lucien doesn’t deserve this! You just left the ring on his hospital bed and left; he at least deserves to know why!” Feyre and Nesta both breathed sharply at that, they didn’t know about that, Elain had never said a world! “So, you’ll go to him, beg for his forgiveness if you must and grovel at his feet if that’s what it takes to earn his forgiveness! Thank the fucking god you two didn’t get married, you obviously have no idea the meaning of ‘in sickness and health’”.

But Elain shook her head rapidly while mumbling “I can’t, I can’t!” her whole body shook and she looked pale, there was thin layer of sweat covering her forehead. “What do you mean you can’t?” Azriel asked, obviously not caring for her answer, whatever it was going to be! “I can’t…he doesn’t even remember me!” she answered desperately, as if the accident had somehow completely erased Elain and only Elain from Lucien’s mind!

“He doesn’t remember your relationship with each other, he remembers your friendship though! If that was ever a thing!” Azriel said sharply but Elain still shook her head “He is in love with someone else…how can I ever compete with a dead person” her voice faded as she finished her sentence and Azriel wrinkled his nose “weren’t you once in love with Greyson?” he asked, albeit a bit mockingly.

Elain seemed devastated by that question, as if Azriel didn’t understood a world she said! “It was different…we never…we never” “never had an actual life? Never had child?” Azriel provided, his voice thick with a cruel mockery that only Azriel was capable of, but Elain seemed oblivious to Azriel’s tone, she only cared for his worlds “I can’t…He loved her more than anything…He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her…I’m… I’m just a poor replacement of her”.

Feyre and Nesta both shook at that, a poor replacement? Was that how Elain felt about her relationship with Lucien? That she was just a replacement? Feyre opened her mouth to say something, to bring peace to her sister’s heart, but Azriel was faster…and crueler! He scoffed at her “You think you can replace her?! She loved Lucien enough to get shot for him! You can’t even bring yourself to fight for him! You left the moment thing got hard…you know what Elain?” he paused for a second to look her world over and make a disgusted face “I think you never truly loved him…you just loved how much he loved you”.

That seemed to shake Elain to her core, her eyes went wide! As if Azriel had finally managed to hit a sore spot. She lifted her head and looked Azriel in the eyes with a defiance Feyre has seen from her only when she was with Lucien and said strongly: “I love him!”

Azriel snickered, triumph shining in his amber eyes and said: “prove it”

And Elain did just that!

***

Elain picked the flowers carefully, making sure each one was right for the occasion; lily of the valleys surrounded with orchids and lilies…yes, she was sorry, she was sorrowful but most importantly, she loved Lucien.

She found Lucien where Cassian told her he would be. sitting in front of a grave, Lucien was hunched and quiet his red hair was tied in a single braid and the black color of his shirt, dimmed the glowing of his skin.

Elain approached him quietly, kneeling in front of the grave next to him, she put the flowers down in front of the grave stone; Lucien remained motionless, his face a mask of sorrow and grief. Elain swallowed deeply as she saw the deep scars on the right side of his face… he was still beautiful despite all he had gone through. She turned her look toward the gravestone when Lucien didn’t acknowledge her presence.

‘I’ll love you even if death do us apart’, the carving on her gravestone clenched at Elain’s heart. But what stabbed her heart was a smaller carving that said ‘Let’s call her Noora, she is the light of our life, right?’ Elain throat bobbed slightly, suddenly breathing was hard for her. They were going to call their daughter “Noora” … she murmured softly: “It’s a beautiful name” Lucien looked at him questioningly, Elain continued “Noora…It’s a beautiful name.”.

Lucien nodded once and averted his eyes. Elain saws the wobbling of his lower lips and said with a thick voice: “I’m sorry…for what it worth… I’m sorry. I know you love them; I know I can never_”

“I love you.” His voice was so low Elain thought she imagined it at first! She looked at him, her mouth dry and breath caught in her chest “I have always loved you…before anyone else, there was you…before I realize what love truly was, there was you!” Elain felt a single tear sliding down her cheek, he took a deep breath, eyes still one the gravestone and continued “Jes was my love and my life, not because I didn’t love you…but because you chose another person over me and Jurian and Vassa told me I needed to move on, so I did. Jes was pure light and mischief, she accepted me for who I was; she knew how much I loved you” he looked Elain in the eye, his face pale and grave “She knew how much I loved you and she never thought less of herself for that; I fell in love with her because she never judged me for my choices, because she took a look at my heart and deemed it worthy of love” he choked on his voice and tears slid down his face; his eyes were accusing, his worlds were accusing. Elain dropped her head, thoughts and feelings turning her brain into a mayhem of chaos!

She mumbled quietly “I love you too” but Lucien continued as if he didn’t hear her “you don’t want me because I’m damaged… because neither my body nor my soul is whole! I understand…but it wasn’t my fault! I would never choose to become like this! I would never have loved another soul if you hadn’t moved on from us! You moved on; you forsake everything we were for a man you only knew for a few months! I couldn’t linger on an unrequired love forever; I had loved you for years and you threw it away like it was nothing… my father told me I shouldn’t linger! He said true love means wanting joy and happiness for your beloved…I thought you were happy, so I moved on! You can’t blame me for that, you can blame me for loving another person when you didn’t love me back!” his voice was louder now, paint and heart radiating from each word he spoke; he was standing now, his body tense and agitated.

Elain shook her head “No, no I don’t blame you for anything… you’re not damaged, that’s not true! I don’t…I don’t think you are damaged” but those were not the right worlds to say “THEN WHY? Why did you leave me like I was nothing? Why did you left the ring behind like it meant nothing” He shouted desperately, his face contorted in a pain that was not in body but in soul.

“BEACAUSE I CAN NEVER BE LIKE HER” she shouted; there it was, the thing that had hunted her all through her relationship with Lucien… Jesminda and Elain were two completely different persons; yes, Elain was social and she loved people, she loved talking to them and knowing them, she loved travelling and she loved having adventures…but at the end of the day, Elain was a peaceful soul, one who preferred to spend the night in a cozy corner while reading a book and eating some cookies… Jes though, according all the things she had heard of her, was a wild soul, she was playful and mischievous, she was like fire whereas Elain was like light. On was wild and unpredictable, the other was constant and content. Lucien had loved Jes, loved her so much it still hurt him… how could he…how could also…

“I don’t want you to be like her…I want you to be like you” he said in a whispering voice, his eyes were disappointed, his shoulders slackened. Elain looked at his eyes, one russet and the other one amber…She picked the flowers she had brought and stood up, she extended the flowers toward Lucien, she said with shaking voice “I am sorry… I’m sorry that I left without saying anything, I’m sorry I didn’t see your love for what it was…I’m sorry for everything”.

Lucien took the flowers and smelled them; Elain took a step forward toward Lucien and asked softly: “is it…is it too late for us? Is it too late to start over? To make new memories?

Lucien averted is eyes and looked at the gravestone, his eyes roaming over the carved words; he asked with an uncertain voice: “how do I know you won’t leave me again?”

Elain breathed deeply, she deserved that, she knew…but she took another step forward and took Lucien’s hands in her owns: “I promise to love you even if death do us apart”.

Lucien chuckled softly and brought Elain’s hand to his lips “we have a long way to go, you know”

Elain smiled.

Yes, they had a long way to go…but they would go all the way together.

....

P.S: if you are confused about the ages of characters, in this fic Helion is a few years younger than Lucien's mother, he was 24 when they had their affair. and at the end of this fic Lucien is 32 years old, one year older than Elain.

#lucien vanserra #acotar #lucien acotar #lucien #acomaf #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and embers #a court of silver flames #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #elucien #pro elucien #pro lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain acotar #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #alternate universe #modern au #jesminda × lucien #helion spell cleaver #helion #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #eris vanserra

[capricorn-writer-kawaii]

Our Hero Academy

Chapter 6 - Eraser Head

Prev. Chapter

Pairing: Shota Aizawa x female OC

Genre: Shota Aizawa X female OC fluff, angst, high school romance, friends to lovers

Words: 4.3k

Summary: 15 years ago, Eraser Head was starting his hero studies with his best friends Hizashi and Oboro. Contrary to what people think, his teenage years in the U.A. were bright and lovely, filled with the laughter of his best friends and his girlfriend's unconditional love. What happened over the years? What changed him into a gloomy sensei?

Extra note: You can totally picture Y/N in the OC female name, it's just that it'd be cute to read Aizawa calling her pet names. 🤍

Once again, thanks to @merrymonkey for illustrating this story. I love you, girl! 🥰

Chapter 6 - Getting Closer

Fortunately, Kaori's recuperation didn't take long, after being on complete rest for a few days, Recovery Girl was able to use her quirk on her. More than any scar, what left a deep impression on her was how Aizawa took care of her and accompanied her during those days. That didn't mean that Hizashi and Oboro didn't worry about her, but Shota's tenderness and care were totally different. It wasn't common to see that much affection and softness while taking care of a friend in such a young boy.

Even when Kaori was back to school Aizawa continued looking after her. 

Meanwhile, despite the three friends couldn't attend the sports festival, they helped with Shota's training. The truth was that training with Aizawa had become quite challenging even for Kaori. He was getting pretty good at hand-to-hand combat. So much so that he was the first to corner Kaori. None of the other two had succeeded because she always found a way to counterattack, but that day, Oboro and Hizashi gaped at the sight of Kaori lying on the ground with Aizawa on top of her holding her wrists and erasing her quirk. Shota didn't have to tie her with his scarf, it was enough to use his hands to immobilize the girl.

"Way to go, Shota!" Hizashi loudly praised. 

"And by the way, find a room." Oboro joked in a low voice, only for the blonde.

"I think she liked being that close to Shota since the incident in the village when she fell directly into his lap." Hizashi whispered, chuckling.

"What's with that face? You asked for it." Aizawa muttered showing such a smirk that Kaori even swallowed hard.

“Why didn't you use your weapon?” She asked as Aizawa rose to his feet and offered his hand. "Hey! It's not fair! You never use it on me, only on them!"

“Do you want him to use it?” Hizashi asked. “It hurts, Shota clutches stronger than you think." 

"I got it! Kari's into SDM!" Oboro claimed causing the girl's face to turn too red as she tried to get up but without taking Aizawa's hand.

To make matters worse, the three boys heard how the fabric of Kaori's uniform tore due to the impact of the fall. Her beautiful green eyes evidenced the panic she felt, which led her to try to cover herself with the first thing she had close to her. However, as she bent down, her fabric finished opening. Curiously, the girl didn't even think about her breasts, what urged her to cover was her back. But to tell the truth, she didn't have to worry much, because when it was already possible to see the lace of her underwear, Aizawa wrapped her torso with his scarf; although it did not touch her skin, it did manage to cover it completely.

"Why are you so nosy?!" Oboro asked shoving his friend while Hizashi regretted not having enough time to see the girl's underwear.

"Because you're a nasty pair of perverts." The black-haired boy responded by giving them such a blow to the head that they both even became dizzy. 

“Do you know how close we came to seeing a pair of…”

The speed with which Aizawa's eyes turned a blood-red hue was the same with which Kaori silenced both guys by altering their body's temperatures to one so cold that their lips got blue.

"While you die of hypothermia, I'm going to my bedroom, no more training for today."

"Take my sweater." Aizawa offered taking it off and immediately forcing Hizashi and Oboro to turn around so Kaori could dress. 

"Thank you, Shota." She said, her cheeks pink as she felt the boy's clothes on her body.

“You two are incredible…” Aizawa grumbled as his two friends tried to warm themselves.

"You're not fooling us, you also wanted to see!"

"Hizashi's right. Deep down you're also a pervert, but since you only want to see her yourself, you won't let us."

"She was awkward, assholes." Aizawa left the gym before the conversation with his friends continued.

During the U.A. Sports Festival Aizawa was quite a surprise. The quiet, shy, and insecure boy was placed in the top ten best students, something that no one expected, not even him. However, since the incident where he had to fight seriously, his vision changed. And as the year continued, Aizawa continued to improve.

The second semester coincided with the start of their internships at hero agencies. The four of them had received interesting invitations, and at the end of the day, Aizawa and Kaori ended up on the same one. If they had spent time together before, that opportunity allowed them to share from dawn to dusk. 

To tell the truth, all the experience was exhausting, they had to find a balance between ordinary classes, the internship at the agency, and training. But luckily they had each other to make things easier. Something that became very common was their late-night chats, since the agency they worked for patrolled more at night than during the day. That was how the young couple discovered several rooftops from where the view of the city was outstanding. Soon, they had a favorite building and would sit there eating something during their breaks.

"This is delicious, thank you for bringing something for me." The boy thanked with a shy smile. Kaori had brought dinner for both of them and they were eating together while enjoying the coolness of the night, especially at that time, which was already mid-December.

"No problem, I figured you'd had a jelly drink for dinner."

Shota laughed because he almost brought one, but he changed his mind. “I'm eating better, the training sessions are becoming more and more demanding.”

Kaori nodded as she discreetly admired her friend's shoulders. The one who had started as the thinnest was now beginning to get buffed even faster than Oboro and Hizashi. Also, now that he had to wear his sports uniform and hero costume more often, it was possible to see how his body was changing into an athletic one.  

Something similar happened with Kaori, Aizawa had also noticed that her legs were even shapelier than before. Also, to his bad luck and even annoyance to him, his stupid classmates wouldn't stop talking about the number one student's curvy body, something that despite how respectful he was, he was also aware of. Due to all their training and work together, it was natural and common for them to be very close. Also, they caught each other several times and Shota had even lifted her on numerous occasions, so if there was one person who was actually aware of Kaori's curvy body, was him.

Naturally, the love confessions and date invitations also started for Kaori. Aizawa was present on countless occasions when she rejected even older boys; of course, he couldn't imagine the reason why she kept rejecting all of them.

“Do you think we can finish earlier today?”

"We must watch the other part of the city, and I think there aren't any professionals around."

Kaori rarely complained about her responsibilities, but that night she sighed and the fatigue was noticeable in her face. Besides that she had been scratching her eyes all night, the slightest brushing of her back with something else made her shudder with pain.

“Why don't you rest? You've worked hard, I can take care.” He kindly offered.

"We've worked the same, you must be very tired too." She replied by scratching her eyes again, but this time she did it so hard that the boy took her hands to make her stop.

“You're gonna hurt yourself. You've been doing the same thing all day."

“They itch a lot, they also burn.”

“If you had listened to me, you'd have closed them when I told you. The area where we had to chase those criminals was covered in dust.”

"If I had closed them, I wouldn't have been able to continue working." 

"You could've only taken my hand one of the many times I offered it to you." The tired-looking young man replied. "Yet, you were as headstrong as always." Aizawa looked at his friend and shyly messed up her beautiful pink hair. "I think I can help you." After taking Kaori's food and putting it away, he tapped his lap, just as she did every time she helped him with the eye drops. 

Of course, Shota's ears were burning red because it was the first time that he did something like that, he even needed to clear his throat several to speak. 

“It won't hurt, I promise. You've been helping me with the same thing for a long time, you know it doesn't hurt.” 

As in automatic, Kaori nodded. It didn't make sense that she was so embarrassed, it wasn't something new for them. Yet, if she thought about it, there was not a single time that the young hero's ears were not red while she helped him. However, at least he was used to it, she wasn't, and what a surprise she got to feel how muscular Shota's thighs were!

Aizawa managed to keep calm as best he could, but having that gorgeous girl whom he adored so much lying on his lap made his heart pound uncontrollably. 

“Okay, we don't want any accidents, so just let me…” After looking in his pockets, he found the eye drops but not the hair tie he needed. "Oh... Kari, can I have a...?"

"Shota, no way! Again? But how come? I gave you that one today."

"I'm sorry, but they're so small that I keep losing them."

"It'd be great for you to have a creation quirk." She joked as she gave him the tie she had on her wrist.

"I promise I won't lose this one."

"How handsome..." She thought without missing a trace of how Shota tied his wavy black hair into a man bun; that way, he moved from his typical appearance, in which his long hair covered part of his face, to one in which only a few black locks danced with the wind in his face. “No wonder why other girls had started to talk to him.”

Kaori's eyes fixed on the attractive face of her friend in such a way that she got to make him blush and drop the bottle of drops on her face.

"Sorry, Sorry!" He exclaimed wanting to die from embarrassment; contrary to Aizawa, Kaori laughed sweetly, she found it extremely cute how awkward her friend could be. Despite all the time they spent together, there were moments when the young hero continued collapsing, just like when they first got to know each other.

"Shota, it's nothing, I didn't even feel it."

"You have a red dot on your forehead where it hit you, I'm really sorry."

If it hadn't been for Shota noticing again how red Kaori's eyes were, he might have continued apologizing, yet, it was more important to help her, so once again, he tried to apply the drops.

“If you do that again, I'm gonna screw it again…” he muttered seriously, just as he spoke to Hizahi and Oboro when they weren't listening to him.

"Do what?" she asked.

"Look at me like that." 

"Fine, I won't see you anymore."

The girl tried not to look into his eyes, but it was worse because she fixed her gaze on Aizawa's lips. She had paid attention to them before, she couldn't deny it, but she had never been so close to them as that day. Despite Shota's serious and cold face, Kaori had been able to appreciate his warm smiles, as well as his mischievous smiles when he played a joke on his friends. She found very amusing the creepy smile Aizawa dedicated to his friends when they began to stress him out to the point that he thought of how to get even. She could also tell when he was preoccupied by the way his jaw tightened. No matter which gesture, they all made her heart race, she just liked him a lot.

But if Kaori had paid attention to him, Shota could perfectly visualize her face without even needing to be near her. Although it was true he was very sharp and attentive to details, it was not just about that. Aizawa had paid attention to her ever since he met her. Therefore, it was remarkably easy for him to perceive that something had disturbed her even before Kaori straightened up to sit down again.

"Forget it, it's not necessary, they don't burn so much." She said, avoiding at all costs to look at him again.

"You feel bad?" He asked not being able to imagine that HE would make a girl as precious as her nervous. “Let me apply them, trust me, it'll be worse later. You don't want your eyes as red as mine."

"There's nothing wrong with your eyes, Shota." 

Kaori also had moments of shyness, especially when it came to Aizawa. However, she would not let him think ill of his eyes. Despite looking tired, they had always made her feel calm; to tell the truth, it was what she liked the most about her friend.

Suddenly, a cold breeze irritated the girl's eyes so much that she closed them tightly. In front of that, he didn't even ask her, he laid her down again on his legs, and trying to ignore her gaze, he put the drops.

"Better, right?"

Shota's question was accompanied by a sweet smile as he watched her with a much more relaxed face resting on his legs. Yet, Kaori's comfort was interrupted when her back brushed against Aizawa's knee. The girl couldn't prevent a soft moan from escaping her lips and hunching over at the pang of pain. Shota had already noticed from her that her back hurt, but it was so strange to see her complain like that, that the boy immediately became alert, looking for some trace of blood.

"Kari, what's wrong?" 

"I think I scraped my back earlier."

"Can I take a look?"

"It's nothing."

“You won't go with Recovery Girl, you always do the same. If it hurts, we should at least know if it's something serious."

"I'll take care once I get home."

“Does that scar bother you so much that you won't let me help you?”

“How do you know I have a scar? I've never let…”

“When you saved us from the explosion, your clothes burned. When I covered you I noticed it, also when you helped me train for the sports festival I could see it.”

Kaori moved away from Aizawa and immediately got up. She tried to ignore the situation by picking up her food, but Shota also got up, and taking her hand, made her stop.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to be inappropriate." 

"I hate it." She replied still without meeting his eyes. "I can't stand looking at it, I'd have preferred that you hadn't seen it either."

"Kari, it's just a scar, I have a lot too." 

It was extremely strange for Aizawa to see her act like that, she was avoiding him to the point that she seemed to want to get out of there by running away. He knew she was an introvert, but she had never avoided him the way she was now. Having no idea what else to do, the boy proposed to go back on patrol, but to his surprise, she asked him to stay a little longer.

Next chapter

#bnha #my hero academia #eraser head #aizawa shota #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #yamada hizashi #present mic #oboro shirakumo #oboromaru #mha x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia scenarios #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero acedamia #mha fanart #loud cloud #u.a. high school #aizawa fluff #aizawa angst #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #endeavor bnha

[fay-zay]

Back to You

Pairing: Teenage Kim Doyoung x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, past lovers, toxic relationship, the reader is reminiscing the past

⚠️: cursing, suggestive, mentions of blood, cigarettes, alcohol, law-breaking, underage smoking, drinking

Synopsis: Her heart has been broken by him. Not once, not twice but too many times to count. And she left everything she knew so that she wouldn't have to be plagued by what remained of their train wreck of a relationship; if you can even call it that. What if life brings her to a turn a choice must be made? To face him or to not; that was the question.

Memories. Weird stuff aren't they? How they ruin the happiest days and make the worst moments better. She trapped her bottom lip under the clasp of her pearly teeth, her fingers tracing the raised silver patterns on the black invitation card; obviously deep in thought.

"So, will you come?" Narae cautiously looked at the girl who seemed like she hadn't changed the slightest in the past few years and yet at the same time, was also a totally different person.

She was still there, the same Y/N but she looked freer, happier. Freer, without the ever so familiar neutral colour high-neck, plain skirt and plaid blazer with plain tights. Happier without the constant pressure of standards and expectations weighing down on her shoulders. Sometimes, it's best to leave the past where it belongs and live in the present. This was applicable in the case of both memories and people.

But she was somehow still the same. With her proper posture, the neatness in her house, the degrees framed in a blank piece of wall, the vestiges of vintage perfume. The scent of which was oh-so-familiar to Narae thanks to her numerous meetings with the person who birthed her closest friend to date. 

It astonished the girl how unlike Y/N's facial structure was from her mother and yet, her eyes were the exact same. Those round almond eyes were the exact copy of Mrs Han. The same balance of cold and warmth, co-existing, just like they were in Narae's memory of their first meeting. As cruel as it might seem, she was carrying traces of the person she hated the most from and would do so for the rest of her life. One can never truly leave the past in the past, after all. It is a part of what makes our future and present. 

"I don't know Rae," Y/N softly answered, placing the invitation on the glass centre table between them. "As much I care for you and Taeyong and am happy for you, going will mean facing him and I don't know if I'm ready for that," 

Narae acted quickly, clasping the girl's hand. "You don't have to worry about that Y/N," She assured, her eyes sparkling with repressed anticipation. "He's most likely not to come," "Eh?! Why's that?" The look of curiosity and worry in her eyes assured Narae of one thing. Neither of them was over the other as they had claimed. 

When she was young, Y/n watched Tangled religiously. The long-haired girl was stuck in a tower just like she was. As she grew older, she realized that she might not have a rogue prince as Rapunzel did. Until of course, she did. 

She was never the one to dig old graves. What was done, was done. She preferred focusing on the upcoming than worrying about the previous. So why? Why was it that this one piece of her previous hunting her so much? She'd left everything. Those people, that environment, those streets, those lanes, that city and the memories. She'd given up everything so that she didn't constantly get reminded of him. 

Him. The first him in her life. And thanks to him, no other he ever made it long enough to leave as big of an impression as he did.

Matters of the heart; very complicated indeed. But the complications arise by 10x when the heart is that of a suppressed 17-year-old. And what else could make things even more twisted than they already are, except for a charming 19-year-old boy with a perfect exterior, just like her? The difference? The glint of rebellion in his siren eyes that occasionally turned into sparkling doe eyes, the indistinct lines of ink on his neck, that he made moderate efforts in hiding; only to appease his family. 

The swirl of adoration behind the nonchalance in his eyes, the devious prologue of a smirk on his lips and the teasing voice were imprinted in her mind. This was like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider all over again. But this time, her Flynn Rider didn't have a heart and this tangled mess didn't have a happy ending. Han Y/N being, the Rapunzel, didn't get her teenage fantasy with her Flynn Rider. Kim Doyoung. 

'I hope you consider coming, Y/N. I really would...' 

That was what was all that was visible from the notification bar. As much as Y/n wanted to know what else Narae had written, if she opened that text, it'd be marked as seen and then she'd have to come up with a response. A response she didn't have right now.

She hates doing that, leaving people on seen. Actually, it was about leaving people hanging. She hated feeling like she was abandoned, overlooked and forgotten. The powerful feeling of dejection that was capable of spreading itself in one's whole being within a few seconds. This sinking feeling; Y/N didn't want Narae to feel that way. Her living with this feeling for a larger part of her life was more than enough.

This is why she clicked the device shut before shoving it into the deepest part of her purse and making her way out of the door. Trying her damnest to not glance at the aristocratic-looking black and silver envelope. Damn you Taeyong for having a such top-notch taste!

She liked bright days; ones where you could just feel the warmth of the sun despite whatever layers of clothing you had on. It felt like a hug from someone nurturing, someone protecting. And given that she lacked in that quotient of life; Y/N looked forward to the days that were bright, sunny and warm. And yet! Yet, despite the day being just the way she likes it, she couldn't make herself stand and enjoy the warm hug of Mother Nature. 

There was a raging storm of confusion, hesitation and jealousy inside her and until it was subsided, she wasn't gonna be able to focus on anything else. 

"He just got out of a pretty nasty break-up with one of Taeyong's ex-boss's daughters," Narae's voice echoed at the back of her head as she pressed the gas and drove past the ever-so-familiar neighbourhood. "It's unlikely that he'll attend since they ended on pretty bad terms after being all over each other for 2 years," 

"2 years?!" She scoffed, "That selfish son of a bitch!" Y/N hissed, gripping the steering wheel hard enough for her slender fingers to start hurting. She was angry, knowing that Doyoung moved on while she was stuck for God knows what reason!

But the problem was, it was only fair they moved on. They were supposed to move on. It had been 6 years since they last saw each other. It was natural that he moved on. Then why was she so angry? Because she couldn't move on? God, the mere thought of it sounded petty and selfish.

But then again, Y/n had never claimed to be the most understanding. In fact, it was because of him that she thought the way she thought.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" She slammed the brakes, realizing too late that she just broke a red light. With a maniacal cry of frustration, she rested her head on the wheel, the cold metal somehow comforting to her disturbed state. "Fuck this guy!" She mumbled, as three rapid knocks sounded on top of her. And just as she expected, the blue uniform-clad law enforcer was glaring at her through the tempered glass. 

"Miss, you're gonna get a ticket for the stunt you just pulled," The officer sternly stated, challenging with his eyes."Yeah, whatever officer," She waved her hands, staring straight. Now why the fuck did the officer look dejected when she simply accepted her ticket? Would he rather she sped away and he got the chance to be a part of an epic street chase?!

17-year-old Y/n had entertained that wish for a long, long time.  Not anymore. But as she collected the thin piece of paper, her mind suddenly went down the wrong lane of memory. One that she didn't allow herself to visit for a very long time.

Flashback

"How random can you be!" She laughed, the air filling with the unsettling yet addicting scent of spray paint. "Hey! Don't insult my artwork!" He jibed back, his tongue sticking out in mock annoyance while his eyes shot lasers at her. "I mean, the flowers are pretty but Doyoung, at least try and be creative!" 

"Hey!" He complained yet again, noiselessly making his way to the convertible where Y/N lay on top of the windshield, her skirt bunched up enough to see her upper thighs and the edge of her lace tights. 

Roughly grabbing her thighs, he yanked her down so that she was now sitting on the hood, almost sliding off thanks to the shiny exterior of the car and the material of her skirt. But that was the least of her concerns as she found herself sharing breaths with him. "I've been plenty creative, dove. You just need to open your eyes wider and see it better," 

And while she busied herself in analyzing the now damaged storefront, Doyoung pulled her closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, nipping here and there. Her urge to clutch onto his dark locks and hug him tighter was overwhelming but she knew better than to act on her desires! Doyoung's mood was unpredictable and she knew it was smart to keep her hands to herself unless he vocalized his disagreement. Instead, she tried her level best to focus on the storefront he'd just spoiled. 

It was beautiful, painted the soothing shades of sea and sage green, looking rather empty without the gigantic display bouquets and flower pots that she was accustomed to seeing in the daytime. What stood out the most was the inky black graffiti Doyoung had made mere minutes ago. The dripping alphabets looked gaudy and misplaced against the otherwise aesthetic flower shop. 

'The flowers are fucking pretty' is what he wrote. And she would've been snickering at the irony of the words if the artist himself wasn't busy leaving open-mouthed kisses all over her shoulders and neck! It was impossible to focus on anything really,

And who knows how long he'd have continued this sweet torture if a sickeningly familiar whistle hadn't pierced through the silent stillness of the night. "Fucking hell!" Doyoung hissed, immediately detaching himself from her and running for the driver's seat. And as Y/N herself hurried down the hood and into the passenger seat whilst pulling the hood securely over her face, she couldn't help but feel the sinking feeling of dejection in the pit of her stomach.

 "Hurry the fuck up!" He barked, already teasing the accelerator with his foot. And even as they sped away, she looked out of the window, the surroundings seeming nothing but blurs of colours, the night breeze kissing her all over her face as an annoying voice kept on nagging at the back of her mind. 'He didn't wait for you! He saved himself! That's not what someone you like should do!' 

But as always, she paid no mind to it. It was easier that way. To avoid what was soo painfully correct to take up the time with him. To be around him. "Are they coming?" He asked, sparing her glace all while still burning rubber. Y/N stuck her head out of the window, the chilly night air now slapping against her soft cheeks as she scanned the road they'd left behind. Sure enough, the cop car was just turning the corner, still very much hot on their heels.

"Yes, they're out for our heads!!" She yelled, whipping herself back in. "Why did you get in? Keep a watch!" "You know I can't do that! It's too risky!" She instantly regretted saying what she said rolling since he huffed out, frustrated before his eyes. Whilst mumbling something along the lines, 'What did I even expect?' 

It felt like he'd just stabbed her heart with a sharp dagger. But she simply bit her tongue and pushed herself out of the window again; this time a bit too much to be considered safe. But nonetheless, she kept a watch. Just like he told her to do. Because that's what she always does.

And what hurt her the most was he didn't even notice how many times she almost fell out of the window. How much the edge of the window cut through the material of her shirt and broke the skin of her waist enough to make her wince every time he took a sharp turn. 

She didn't realize he just ran a red light until she saw them leaving the traffic sign behind. 'Look at you, Kim Doyoung. Making me do so many unimaginable things, all in one night,' She sighed, pulling the hood tighter around her face.  One more sharp turn and too many things happened at the same time. The hand that was gripping the interior of the car gave up, the edge of the window rammed against her waist hard enough to make Y/N whimper and they finally lost the police!

She felt herself falling forward due to his hard brake until one of his arms wrapped around the back of her waist and yanked her back in, his nails digging into her wound, making her let out another agonized cry!

"I leave you alone for 20 minutes and you almost get killed! What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He basically slams her against the passenger seat, the wet feeling under his fingers and a brief glance down to her waist, finally letting him on what he was clearly neglecting. That did something to him. How silent she had been the entire darn time, allowing him to make his sweet escape. And to take his sweet time to act responsibly. Why does he do this to her? 

"Look at me Y/N," She refused, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stubbornly avoided eye contact. "Y/N, look at me!" He raised his voice this time, his grip on her arms now strong enough to bruise. More tears, but not a sound went past her lips. Doyoung hated how much it affected him. Her tears, her pain, the look of hurt and disappointment in her beautiful eyes. 

"Love, please..." He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, the tiny expanse of her skin tasting salty due to her tears. He didn't let up, continuing to dot her cheeks with tiny pecks. Until she finally sighed in what seemed to be defeat and turned her head to face him. "Does it hurt?" He asked, facing her. She simply nodded.

After all these months around her, Doyoung had learned that Y/N didn't scream or shout when she was angry. She just went silent. And as much as Doyoung tried to not care, he didn't like her silence. 

Nodding, he brought himself back to the driver's seat before reaching over to make her lay flat against the seat. "Let's go home, dove" He gently added, earning nothing but a disinterested nod from her. One of his hands remained intertwined with hers as he drove them away, further away from the eventful night and into the soothing chilly night. 

End of flashback

Sighing, Y/N lay her head flat on the desk. Thinking about Doyoung made her feel weird. A weird mixture of self-pity, pain and maybe even some loneliness. He had messed her up, true. But he had also left an impression lasting enough to find a way to slither into her thoughts every once in a while. And now there was a chance that she could be seeing him again, she didn't know how to handle that information.

"Y/N, you alright?" She knew the voice well enough to not bother getting up from her sprawled-out state. He'd seen her waay too many times to care. She simply nodded against the wooden surface. "Well you certainly don't like you are," Now this, made her mad. 

"Kun, if you know the answer, why'd you even bother to ask?" She grumbled, still not getting up. "I just hoped you'd be honest about your state for once in your life," The teasing smile was clearly audible in his voice. "Shut up Kun!" "So you finally look up to shoot me a death glare, that brings me great joy as your friend," Kun rolled his eyes. "Suck it up, big baby!" She snapped,

"What's going on?" Kun's voice softened, hand raising to gently massage the top of her head. "It's complicated Kun," "When is it not?" This time, Y/N broke into a chuckle, her eyes still hooded and shoulders weighed down with the weight of despair. "You can tell me," 

She knew she could. Y/N never claimed to be a social butterfly but she needed a friend or two like every normal human being on Earth. Though she wouldn't also claim to be entirely normal. But Narae was one of the very few girls who didn't envy her deep down because of the money she had in her MasterCard. Or hated her because she was conventionally beautiful. 

Just like Narae, Kun was the very few men who didn't care how she was her superior. One of those people who didn't care how educated or how powerful she was. That's why she trusted him. She liked him because he treated her for what she was. A human being who simply had something to prove. He was a friend, who loved to tease her and also was always ready with a listening ear and advice. 

"Kun, at times when you don't know what to do;" She started, her voice still muffled by the wood. "...do you listen to your heart or do you listen to your mind?" 

"Is it a matter of the heart or the matter of the head?" Kun rebutted, his tone balanced. "Matters of the heart," She admitted, her voice small, despite her face now lying sideways. "Then I'd listen to the heart," He said. "I know many people would say that it's a stupid decision to think that way. But just like I won't understand your worries as you would, your mind won't understand the troubles of your heart like your heart would." 

He saw things soo simply, soo accurately that it made things a lot clearer for Y/N. "And while I admit the heart does tend to take some dumb decisions, the head is too safe. And as much as you've let me in your love life," Kun paused to smile down at her. "The matters of your heart cannot be fixed with the safe approach the brain has," 

"Why are you here wasting your talent away when you easily could've made all the psychology and literature professors eat dirt with your lectures alone!" Kun burst out laughing, definitely flattered by her comments. He knew for a fact Y/N didn't bullshit. Whatever she said was the vocalisation of her thoughts.

"Coming from you, Boss," He hopped off the mahogany desk he was sitting on and walked for the door. "I might as well consider that,"  "Hey now don't make me lose my best employee!" Y/N yelled back, spinning in her swivel chair, feeling much lighter than before. 

It's true when they said that talking to someone else about your worries lessens their burden. Y/N, while still conflicted, had a clearer path in front of her. She knew which part of her she ought to listen to. Now which part she would ultimately end up choosing; only time would tell.

"Where are you? Where are you?" Zooming through the aisles of the department store, her eyes scanned the rows of sweet treats and snacks for her favourite brand of sour strings. Not that she minded chewing on her hoodie strings, she needed some taste once in a while. "Found you!" She grabbed two packets and dumped them in her basket. "That will be all," She offered the young girl on the counter as she placed her basket for check out.

As the items were being checked out, she let her eyes wander, scanning the neatly arranged arrays of energy drinks, pills and frozen goods beside the counter. The hard packet came into her sight rather abruptly, since she hadn't noticed it all this time. A sigh escaped her lips as Jaeyun reached forward and picked the pack in her hands. And relished the feeling it brought.

The nostalgia, the familiarity, the unfamiliarity and of course, those memories. Always those darn memories!

Flashback 

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" His voice came out rather muffled since his lips were now occupied with holding the white stick in between them. His eyes scrutinized her in front of him, her fingers hovering over the pack that contained several other sticks.

"I know I don't," She shrugged, "But I'd like to try one. I can always throw it away if I don't like it." "And waste my cigarettes on you? Yeah no thanks, love." His reply made her pout. 

"Oh come on Doie! Just one, please! I swear I won't waste it!" She pleaded, her hands clasped around his. "Okay! Okay, jeez!" Doyoung scoffed, placing a thin cancer stick on her hand. "And how many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?" He snapped, rather sharply whilst lighting the stick between his lips. God, he looked so fucking gorgeous when he did that! Enough to make her ignore the pang of hurt that slammed itself against her already bruised heart.

"Are you going to light it or what?" He asked, snapping her out of her reverie. "Can't you just light it for me?" She asked, lightly offering. She hoped he would take it as a joke and just toss the lighter her way. If he snapped again, Y/N didn't know if she would be able to resist the urge to stomp the cigarette down her foot and walk away. Once in for all,

These days, she wanted to do that. She wanted to suffer the pain of being away from him. Instead of suffering from the constant heartbreaks, he gifted her with. 

Surprising her, Doyoung simply puffed out smoke before saying, "Come here," Placing the white stick between her lips, Y/N stood in front of him, their shoes touching. Doyoung gave her one of those famous smirks of his, before leaning down and making the tips of their cigarettes touch. And Y/N's heart almost burst! 

He was so close and even though he was closer than that, she felt like she was seeing the most intimate form of Doyoung right now. His hooded eyes, the strands of parted black hair falling over and covering bits of his forehead, his luscious lips enclosed around the cigarette. He smelled like nicotine, rich leather and musk. Must be his favourite le Labo perfume that he seemed to never get tired of. 

He was a beautiful man, no doubt. And despite that, it hurts soo much to want to be with him. Why did he have to be the way he did? "There, all done, my dove." He smiled, and for a few seconds, she saw the child behind his calculated and alluring eyes. And yet again, it was making her fall deeper than she already was. She looked away, inhaling the nicotine. 

And then broke into fits of coughs soon after. Doyoung simply chuckled, watching Y/N as she dry heaved. "What sort of idiot invented this!" She cast a vicious look at the lit cigarette, her eyes watering. "Jesus Christ, I feel like I swallowed ash! Fuck!" She gagged, spitting on the sidewalk. 

"You wanna stop, love?" Doyoung asked, his smile long gone now. "No, but maybe take a second," Y/N sighed, her eyes watering. 

Soon enough, she'd gotten through her first cigarette. She didn't know if she should be proud of herself. "That's enough for a day! Come on! You're swaying already!" Doyoung flicked his cigarette away and took off his jacket, wrapping it around Y/N's comparatively small body and leading her to the car. Halfway through, her knees gave away, making the girl almost surface. 

"Fuck, Y/N! Don't faint!" Doyoung urgently hissed, haphazardly supporting her body but too late, she was limp. "Oh for fuck's sake!" The older boy sighed, now picking the girl up, bridal style, still wrapped in his jacket. It amazed her, how small she was compared to him. How delicate and innocent she was. 

"Doie..." She sleepily drawled, her hair falling over her face. Doyoung chuckled softly before answering, "What love?" "Thanks for the cigarette," He had to snort, at how freaking adorable she sounded. "Hmm, did you enjoy it?" He asked, holding her tighter against his body. Y/N nodded against his chest before answering, "It reminded me of you," And after that, she was completely gone! 

As he placed her inside his convertible and drove her back home, he couldn't help but think if she meant it. About the cigarette reminding her of him. Because Doyoung knows how those feel like. After the initial buzz of adrenaline and excitement, it drained you down. It made you feel tired and kept you coming back for more. 

End of flashback 

"Should I add it to the total, ma'am?" Y/N snapped out of her thoughts at the girl's question. "Yeah?" She turned to look at her. "Oh no! I was just..." She placed the pack of cigarettes back in its place. "I honestly don't know why I picked them up," She smiled. "I was wondering the same," The girl added, handing her the plastic bag of her shopping. "Excuse me ma'am but you don't look like the type to smoke," She broke out into a small chuckle at the girls' words before winking. "You'd be surprised," 

Y/N was addicted to them. Until of course, Doyoung walked out of her life. Those white sticks reminded her of him. So she forced herself to give it up. Just like everything she gave up everything that reminded her of him. He left with the same callousness as he came in and while she was heartbroken, she was also glad. 

How long was she going to torture herself? How long was she going to run into those same circles? Wasn't it easier that he left as much as it hurt to be the girl who was left behind?

Destiny works in wonderful ways really. Y/N had run from the thought of Doyoung for the past 6 years. Yet, he ruled a part of her. He was still messing her up despite not having shown his face to her since the day he left her for someone else. She chuckled, bringing her phone out; finally ready to text Narae back. 

'I hope you consider coming, Y/N. I really would love for you to be here in my big day.'

'I'll come Rae, see you soon.' 

Wrapping the jacket, his jacket, tighter around her small frame, Y/N took yet another sip of her whiskey. What were the odds? After running for 6 darn years, she was going to take the risk of running into him again. And that too, on the wedding day of the girl he left her for. To his best friend. 

She knew how stupid the decision was. How much it could hurt her, all over again. But then again, if Y/N was going to make a stupid decision for someone, wouldn't it make sense for it to be Doyoung? If she was going to risk going through all of that pain again; who else would it be except for Doyoung?

#nct #neo culture technology #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #toxic love #toxic relationship #past love #doyoung drabbles #doyoung angst #nct angst #back to you

[amansabastris]

The Notebook

Dwayne Hoover x Deaf! GN! Reader - Preview

A/N: This is a preview of the first chapter of my Dwayne x Reader story :) Now renamed to The Notebook! Previously The Hitchhiker.

Overall Warnings for the Story: Slow Burn, Mentions of Death/Going to a Cemetery, Reader is a Runaway, Negative Foster Care Experience, A Shit-Ton of Swearing, Angst at Some Parts, (but not as part of the eventual relationship, you already know the movie is pretty angsty at some parts,) Mentions of Sex Work, Drug Use

Chapter Warnings: Sheryl Not Knowing How to Interact With Deaf People But Thats Ok, I Forgive Her, Frank Knows a Little Bit of ASL (He is the Number 2 Proust Scholar in the World, So I Think He'd Be Smart Enough To Learn Some ASL to Communicate With the 600,000 Deaf People in the US)

"You don't see many of those anymore." Richard said, nodding his head towards the hitchhiker a little ways up the road.

"Mhm?" His wife's eyes flicked up to the road, though she sounded disinterested. "I guess not." She looked back down, but did a double take and looked back up.

"Oh my God- They look like they're 15! Richard, pull over." She tapped on his arm as she spoke.

"What? Pull over? We barely have space as it is- And then we'll have to push the car to get it started again!"

"Richard!" She started, getting annoyed. "They can't be older than Dwayne! And they're hitchhiking, so they obviously need help!"

The mention of his name caught Dwayne's attention. He looked up from his book and towards his bickering parents, but he couldn't tell what they were arguing about at this point. He wished he had started listening earlier.

Tap tap. He smacked his uncle on the shoulder and scrunched his eyebrows as if to ask "what's going on?" Luckily, he got the message.

Frank had been listening to the argument, smirking as his sister easily won. He laughed as the car finally pulled over.

"We're picking up a hitchhiker."

The teen outside smiled wide and picked up a duffel bag from the ground beside them. They patted their pockets, looking for something as they walked up to the passenger side window.

Sheryl rolled down the window and began talking a million miles a minute. 

"Do you need a ride somewhere? We're heading up to California- And lord, you just look so young! How old are you anyway? Are you okay?"

The teen watched her ramble on and their smile fell as they tried to understand. They held their hand up quickly, signaling for her to hold on. Sheryl knit her eyebrows at this.

Finally, they pulled out what they were looking for in their pocket. A notebook, similar to Dwayne's. They flipped to a page and handed it over.

Hi, my name is [Name] and I'm deaf. I'm trying to get back to my mom in California. I don't have a lot of money, but I can give you what I have and I'll really appreciate however far you can take me :)

When she finished reading, [Name] handed a small wad of money to her- A twenty, a ten, and some ones. Sheryl pushed it back at them.

"No, no, no, honey, that's okay!" She shook her head back and forth and exaggerated her words. [Name] smiled, knowing she was doing her best to help them understand, even though she was doing quite the opposite.

She turned around and shouted something to her family. Soon after, the side doors slid open and people filed out. An older man, a teenage boy, a little girl, a man who looked about 30, and then the woman and man from the front.

[Name] looked over the group and decided that the 30-year-old was the best bet. They furrowed their eyebrows and stuck out their notebook, but he shook his head and raised his hands instead.

"We have to push the car," He signed.

And then the biggest smile blossomed on the hitchhiker's face. He could sign too.

They nodded, set their bag in the van, and then dutifully placed their hands on the trunk, ready to push- grin still on their face.

©️ copyright yourlavenderlover, 2022

all rights reserved

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

#dwayne hoover #little miss sunshine #paul dano #danonation #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x female reader #dwayne hoover x gn!reader #dwayne hoover x male reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[crackedopen]

Here's one of my one-shots from my AO3 (which you can see in my pinned post 💞), Hold My Hand When Everything Goes Dark.

The story is also on AO3:

Category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

TW for graphic descriptions of violence, talks about mental health, relationship problems, strong language and angst!

The rest is under the cut 💙

HOLD MY HAND WHEN

EVERYTHING GOES DARK

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

The young man sitting cross-legged on the grey matte floor of the 501st barracks swore loudly as an electric spark stabbed his fingertip, too gentle to injure him but painful enough to make him flinch and nearly throw his bucket against the wall.

“Fuck!”

His friend, currently sitting on the edge of his bunk and fiddling inside of his chestplate’s thermoregulation system rose his thick dark brows and looked at him with wide open eyes.

“Dogma, so brave of you!” he said in a sassy tone, setting the tools aside and taking the thick gloves off “This is the first time I’ve heard you swear. Glad you’re overcoming milestones at the amazing age of eighteen!”

The other teenager rolled his eyes, then took the gloves his colleague offered him, returning to adjusting his HUD. Even though he wasn’t a huge fan of weaponry and upgrading his armour with new and more extravagant gadgets and gimmicks, he had to admit a new edition of Phase 2 kit was…. Impressive. Exquisite. Deluxe, even. The plastoid was far thicker and more durable than the older one that used to break after two or three hits, also breaking the soldier wearing it. Some vode even claimed it had beskar lining, but Dogma being the rational thinker always shrugged it off. There was no way the proud nation of Manda’yaim could give them their sacred steel.

And there was also no way the HUD upgraded with echolocation, clearer night vision and toxic gas detectors and poison blockers, the thicker pauldrons, the thermoregulation embedded in their blacks and chestplates and the leg armour so durable it was said to protect the trooper even from breaking a bone could protect them.

Dogma felt that, and Dogma agreed with that.

“By the way, where are your gloves?”

The teen with a huge V tattooed on his face trembled, awoken from his thoughts by Tup’s voice.

“Oh. Well… Fives and Jesse took them again”

The man with long hair gathered in a thick braid glanced at him, frowning, his eyes sparking with anger.

“Again?”

Dogma didn’t answer that, turning back to twisting the cables connecting his audio recorder to the main hardware of his helmet. He rose his gaze just when Tup’s tall form loomed over him, his long brown locks tickling his face.

“Vod, you can’t keep hiding this fact from me. How many times did something like that happen?”

Silence.

Tup felt a wave of worry and frustration rise in his chest.

“Tell me. Or do you want me to tell the Captain about it?”

Dogma shrugged, his face as blank as a stone.

“You know he wouldn’t care. He adores his ARCs and would just tellstuff like “boys will be boys” or “It’s just how Fives is” when you tell him”

The trooper with longer hair and a teardrop tattoo sat next to him, leaning against the hard durasteel framing of Dogma’s bunk. His eyes were round, gentle, full of hope and happiness, almost girl-like with those long dark thick lashes, so unlikely of how soldier’s eyes were supposed to look like. For Dogma, his friend’s eyes were like two beautiful glistening planets bustling with life, two sparkling nebulas so dark and so mysterious he just wanted to dive into them.

But he had to admit he was sure Tup would lose all of that spark and hope to the war. Just like many shinies did.

“What do you wanna do? After…” the other teenager asked, going quiet as if he was looking for the right words to express what he had in his mind “After all of this ends?”

Fuck.

Dogma felt a cold chill creep down his spine.

“I don’t think it will ever end, Tup’ika”

Tup froze, those sparkling eyes opening wide.

“Dogma? Are you OK?”

The automatic doors slid open, and a tall muscular trooper came in, way taller than an average vod. His handsome, slightly freckled tan face was adorned by a short black goatee and a mustache that could conquer the infamous facial hair of Fives or Boil from the 212th Battalion. From underneath the short sleeve of a basic civvie T-shirt Tup and Dogma noticed the tattoos. Dozens of them. A turquoise dragonfly that covered the man’s throat. Two dragons, the red one surrounded by rising flames and the blue one surrounded by clouds and waves fighting each other in a deadly battle on his whole left arm. A very well muscled arm. Vod must be doing insane amount of boxing or weightlifting, Tup thought, so impressed he just sat there, frozen by his emotions. And all of those art beneath his skin was joined by a viper sliding around his right powerful bicep and a forearm that could choke a Commando Droid. The tall man had other designs, too, but far too small and not so visible from the distance the two teens had to the main door.

The handsome brunet approached them, smiling gently.

“Is everything OK there, boys? Do you need help?” he asked in a hushed tone, his voice being a low, slightly gruff baritone.

Tup shook his head, his gaze turning to his armour.

“No, sir. We’re just upgrading our kit. We’re alright”

“Oh, don’t “sir” me there, vod!” the man with tattoos and blond strands of curly hair extended his ink-covered arm in a greeting gesture “Name’s Ink”

Two youths enthusiastically greeted the older clone, and let him sit next to them.

“Ink? For…” Dogma shyly asked, pointing at the elaborate designs on the man’s slightly bronze skin.

The bulky soldier nodded eagerly, then squinted, looking at Dogma’s face.

“Yours is…. Unique. So detailed. Looks amazing both from the distance and from up close. May I ask which vod did it to you? Sparrow? Mouse?”

The young man with a V inked on his face blushed a deep shade of red, dropping his gaze.

“M-Mouse did the job but I designed it from the scratch. Is… Is it bad, sir?”

Ink shook his head so abruptly the longer blond strands waved in the air in loose locks.

“No, no, I would even say the opposite, it’s… Unique. I’ve never seen anything like it”

Dogma blushed even harder, and Tup bit his lower lip to hide the fact he was seconds away from breaking into laughter.

“May I ask… What does it mean? Does it represent something?” Ink asked carefully, choosing the right words.

He knew tattoos meant many things for each vod. And sometimes, it was better not to ask to not wake up old monsters that still haunted many of them.

Dogma shook his head. A sting of pain tore through his heart. He knew he was lying, not only to a vod but also someone probably of much higher status in the GAR hierarchy.

That doesn’t matter. I’m a bad trooper anyway. I deserve my gloves, blacks and parts of my kit being stolen by Fives, Jesse or Hardcase. I don’t belong here anyway.

“OK then. So… I hope I’m not disturbing any of you. How are you doing?”

Dogma opened his mouth to answer, but Tup being Tup answered first, his bubbly and extroverted self exploding like a firework during a Republic Day on Coruscant.

“We’re doing great, Ink. Just vibing and chatting and upgrading our armour. That new edition we’ve been given is fantastic! I’m wearing the upper half of the new blacks and I can already feel the difference! Seriously, I was in my civvie sweater and it was freezing there but now it’s nice and warm. Have you tried yours yet, vod?”

The bigger warrior nodded, the corner of his full lips extending in a haste smile.

“Yes. I mean, only the helmet and the HUD. There’s so many new options for us medics, too. For example scanning the patient just by looking at them and the system judging the seriousness of their injuries. I think we need to get rid of those old crappy scanners soon”

They all laughed. All apart from Dogma, who was detached, in completely another world.

They’re having a good time without me, laughing and chatting while I’m just watching like a good third wheel. But that’s OK. Someone has to do the job of the boring one.

That’s OK. It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel the tears streaming down my face, the tightness in my chest. I don’t hear the screams, I don’t see the red under my boots.

I keep lying to myself, and that’s alright.

“And you, Dogma? What do you think about this? It’s cool, right?”

The boy froze again.

This time, frustration won.

“Yeah. Cool. Really fucking cool. You may be walking straight on the landmine or a tripwire or get shot through the brain in a minute or two but hey, at least you look cool, right?”

“Dogma, what do you-“

The tattooed teen didn’t let them finish. He rose to his feet, eyes burning with sadness, hollow hopelessness, too tired to scream but still screaming.

“You really don’t know what do I mean, Tup? You really don’t? Are you blind to what’s happening? Is one a bit cooler helmet enough to make you blind?!”

Ink rose both of his hands, his voice going lower and more soothing.

“Dogma, take a deep breath for me, alright? In and out-“

The boy bared his teeth like an animal caught in a cage, using its last resort to save itself.

“That’s not your fucking problem! You’re a stranger that just came here and you are gonna fucking coach me there?! You know what, maybe you should return to your medbay and shut up!”

The silence grew so much it started to make Tup’s eyes fill with tears.

Dogma’s never been like that.

The boy with an incredibly detailed face tattoo felt his breath grow calm, then let out a few tears. They were hot. Thick. Sticky. Like blood.

He knew both substances perfectly.

“We’re all gonna die in this war. We don’t even need new armour. It’s useless. It won’t save us from it”

The tattooed medic approached the boy, and gently let him sit down. He heard a small commotion outside through the thick walls of The Resolute. The small crowd whispered something in hushed voices, then the sound of heavy boots echoed through the corridor.

They are probably used to this. Or they ignore Dogma.

They ignore their vod when he could be screaming his lungs out because of other things. Pain. Fear. Injury.

They wouldn’t help him if he was lying there in pain.

But they don’t hesitate from stealing the most crucial parts of his kit and probably dropping it into a vacuum.

“Can I tell you a story, kid?” the medic asked, trying to battle the feeling of disbelief and immense sympathy for the shiny. This kid deserves so much love, just like any of those new batches who come from Kamino far too young, far too early, and all he gets is hatred.

I’m going to break the bones of his bullies when I find those fuckers.

Dogma hesitantly nodded, cold lips wobbling slightly.

Ink took a deep breath.

“I know you don’t know me well and I don’t tell a lot about myself, but… I think you will relate to this story. I had batchmates. Well, a batchmate that I really loved. His name… His name was Woof. He was an ARF trooper from the 501st”

Tup noticed how the tattooed clone’s voice grew more quiet, solemn.

“Woof... Was never quiet. He was... energetic. A living source of happiness, contagious happiness and joy that made even the most solemn person in the room laugh like a cadet. We were a perfect match, the only two of our batch that survived Kamino. I was the quiet one, he was the loud and brash one. I preferred science, art and tattoos, and he preferred parties, drinking, hunting and playing truth or dare during lights out. I still remember when he tried to drink hydrogen peroxide”

The inked doctor made a small chuckle along with Tup. Dogma only gave the storyteller a crooked smile through the waves of anger that still lingered in his body.

“We got separated as soon as we got promoted, I to an Assigned Ship Medic position, and he to an ARF sergeant. Rarely met. One night... I got a notification on my wristchrono. A new emergency. A disemboweled ARF was being carried into the surgery room. A shrapnel...."

He gulped nervously, and sighed.

"A shrapnel cut his abdomen all the way down"

Tup’s gasp broke the solemn silence, and Dogma’s eyes widened a bit as he imagined it. They were familiar with it and they could handle gore, every soldier could, but… They never imagined what was it like to be mere centimeters from the pool of guts and blood swimming out from the shell of vod’s body.

Ink continued.

“"I.... I tried to save him. I was elbows deep in him. Did intubation, internal cardiac massage, even considered prosthetic organs.... All for nothing"

Tup hung his head low, closing his hands together and whispering hushed words of a Mando’a prayer. Dogma was just sitting in front of the medic who was now much more deflated, much more quiet than he was at the moment they met.

Dogma nodded, frowning.

“We’re sorry for that, sir. I apologize for my behavior, you can report it to my Commanding Officer and let him choose a-“

"No, no, no, kid” Ink shook his head again, bringing his hands up "It’s not your fault, shiny. I know everyone here is a mess. War made us a mess. I… I just wanted to tell you this”

He came closer, placing his hand on Dogma’s thin shoulder. The inked vod’s palms were big, much bigger than the shoulder he rested one of them on.

“Everyone here deals with a different story, with a different war. Not the one where you run around the battlefield, carry a DC-17 blaster and shoot down clankers. I mean the one against your own mind. Your struggles.”

The younger trooper nodded again.

A deafening sound of an alarm blaring made them shiver, and the cacophony of troopers getting ready filled the barracks, surrounding them with a click of plastoid and barked out orders.

Ink stood up, getting his own armour out from his locker and kitting himself up, starting with blacks and the chestplate.

“Be strong, kid. Stay strong”

Dogma followed him, hurryingly putting on the new armour. Tup winced, holding his temple as a pulsing pain beamed inside of it. All he could hear was a high pitched sound.

It stopped after five seconds. The long-haired eighteen year old shrugged it off. Probably this new medic will assign me painkillers or something like that.

His fingers caught the newly issued armour, and he was inside of the battlefield again.

#crackedopen writing #crackedopen art #crackedopen ocs #star wars #clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #angst #hurt/comfort #clone trooper tup #clone trooper ink #clone wars dogma #clone trooper dogma #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #star wars: the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #the clones #clones

[snuggles-and-struggles]

So that lore.

If I do ever get around to writing more for these boys, what I'm thinking is that monsters had still been underground, but surfaced earlier than usual, around the time Edge and Stretch would've been like, 7-10 ish.

The transition up top took some time, what with there being multiple different ones over the span of a few years, and as the monster sanctioned areas grew, became sort of segmented by universe. This brought its own difficulties with it, as some monsters, mostly those from "Fell" type undergrounds, had harder times adjusting to surface life.

Edge and Stretch met very early on, shortly after surfacing and before the "divisions" got too bad. Edge and Red had already lost their father and were semi accustomed to looking after themselves, but Stretch and Blue's father, while not the most outwardly compassionate, did try to keep an eye on them and help them out in ways Red would let him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't too long after that Swapster got sick and declined pretty quickly. Stretch and Edge were tween/young teenagers when he finally succumbed, but as things had simultaneously been growing more strained between the 'verses, circumstance pushed them apart a bit. They still tried to hang out when they could, and Blue and Red certainly had more than one argument over the two just coming to stay with them (despite barely being able to keep their own heads above water), but distance grew between them over the teen years.

Until Red got sick.

The same illness that claimed Swapster, during one of their rare actual opportunities to spend time together, Edge told Stretch. He'd been doing any work he could get (and Stretch resolutely never asked about the few LV he'd gained over the years), but it just wasn't enough, and Red's condition was only getting worse.

On the brink of graduating or possibly in a gap year, Stretch completely changed his career choice, going into medical science in order to aid in finding treatment for the disease. And with tensions finally eased into a sort of normalcy and Blue having long since secured a decent job, the Fell boys moved in with the Swaps for a little while.

Once Edge had secured himself better work, and using what little savings Red had accumulated before falling ill, they manage to move out after a few years, and make their own way. Red is a trial patient, by Stretch's recommendation, and is currently receiving experimental treatment that hasn't entirely helped in recovery, but slowed its progression significantly, which is really saying something considering how serious the condition is.

Edge and Stretch, of course, have unresolved feelings for each other, Stretch had probably been in love with Edge almost the whole time, but Edge likely only developed more romantic feelings once older, probably during the brief time they lived together. They both care about each other deeply, but tend to dance around heavier subjects and their own personal problems which keeps that little bit of space there even when they'd honestly both be so much better off if they just talked ough

But! They're actually pretty similar to my young code blue boys, but with waaay less angst along the way lol I'd love to write more with them, maybe some of the earlier days like a time Edge snuck in to Stretch's room really late as teens, or maybe them moving in together in the not so distant future (or maybe slightly distant, Edge probably wouldn't until Red didn't need him looking after him anymore).

They're very cute and sweet and I'm kissing them both on their stupid little foreheads. (Also feel the need to clarify that while Edge does have LV, it's not anywhere near as much as standard for when he’s in the guard and everything, like, maybe he’s at abt 4? More than 2 but definitely not more than 6)

#sh fireworks #sns thoughts... #spicyhoney #papship #papcest

[kenzies-love-stories]

Please Don’t Push Me Away! (Seth Clearwater x Reader)

a/n: this was a request that was pretty close to my heart as frozen was one of the movies I would watch with a little girl who was my sister though we were not biologically related before I was told I was no longer allowed to see her.I hope I did this justice.~ 🖤Kenzie🖤

date posted: August 29, 2021

requested by: @bi-bi-spencer​

Request: Hello, I saw your requests were open and was wondering if you could write a Seth Clearwater imagine where the reader has water powers and kind of like Elsa, she can’t control it but after Seth imprints he can kinda help her and it’s just fluff but like angst at the beginning. Thank you so much 😊 

Type: kind of angst and major fluff

word count: 2,369

y/n pov

“y/n, you have given me no choice I am going to send you away to some family friends of mine in forks. They are experienced enough with ‘gifts’ to help you get yours under control.”  

“Dad do I have to go.” I ask sadly my brows furrowing up.

“y/n we have been over this, I love you but you almost hurt your brother again and you are just too out of control and unpredictable.” My father sternly states.

Feeling my eyes start to burn with tears I cry out, “Dad, I promise I will be good, it won’t happen again, I promise; please...don’t send me away.”  

“NO! YOU ARE GOING TO FORKS AND THAT IS FINALE!” My dad yells at me then slams my door shut.

*End of flashback*

I sadly step off of the plane that flew me to Seattle and drag myself over to the baggage claim to get my suitcases, I hate airports. I keep my head down and quickly walk to the area where people are waiting being very careful to not trigger a water attack in such a public place. I have been cursed with the ability to control water. I am not sure of the extent of my abilities as I do not have them under control in the slightest. I started to wear leather gloves to trap in the water that flows out of my hands at random times, it has started to be fruitless.  

I only look up to scan the room for a sign that my father’s friends or a sign that indicates that they are here. Just my luck I see a tan man and a beautiful teenager whom looks to be around my age holding up a white poster board that says ‘welcome y/n’ in beautiful cursive. I noticed that they look a little young to be friends of my father’s. I walk up to them with extreme caution, “Are you Carlisle and Esme Cullen?” I question the duo.

“No. My name is Jacob Black and this is Renesmee Cullen, we are here to pick you up as the others couldn’t make it.” The man who introduced himself as Jacob says.

“Oh okay, my name is Y/n it is nice to meet you, I would shake your hand but I like to keep human contact to a minimum for everyone’s safety.” I state with a slight nod.

“That is one hundred percent okay, now let’s get you two back to the Cullen’s house.” Jake states taking one of my suitcases leading me out of the airport and to where the car was parked.

My father’s harsh words ring in my head throughout the whole ride to the Cullen’s. Am I really dangerous? Am I really a hazard to every person I let get close to me? I don't want to be...I want to be safe to be around without having to worry about drowning those around me. I am brought out of my trance when the car stops and shuts off.

I unbuckle my seat beat and get out of the car, gently closing the door. “You can go on in y/n, Jake and I got your things, the others are very excited to meet you.” Renesmee states nodding in the direction of the house.

“Thank you very much.” I say quietly before walking to the door, nervously walking in side. Once I get the door closed, I turn around and am met by a young-looking blonde man and a beautiful brunette woman whom both have the same golden eyes.

The blonde man greets me in a soft voice, “Hello my name is Carlisle Cullen and this is my wife Esme.”

“We are looking forward to having you stay here; we hope that you will enjoy your time here.” Esme muses before leading us into what appears to be the living room.  

“It is very nice to meet you both, thank you for doing my family this kindness.” I say while nervously adjusting my gloves

“Let’s head outback so we can pinpoint where you are at with your gift.” Carlisle says before leading me outside far away from the house, which I am thankful for.

“I am going to be honest; I have no control over it anymore Carlisle....It scares me, what I can do. I hurt my brother bad and I didn’t even mean to.” I start to tear up and water starts to slowly fall from the sky around us making the sun disappear as I get more and more upset.  

“It is going to be okay y/n, you can’t do anything to hurt me, okay. It is safe for you to take off your gloves when you are ready.” Carlisle softly states unbothered by the rain I am causing.

I take off one of my gloves and turn it upside down allowing the water to flow out of the leather. Once I do the same to the other, I gently toss them to the side. Without realizing it water starts to shoot out of my hands uncontrollably. I watch it tear off the bark of one of the trees in the distance, it looks as if someone to a power washer to it. Upon realizing this I feel my breathing start to get heavy as my body starts to panic. This causes the water to raise up to my arms increasing the power of the water that is hitting the tree.  

In the distance I hear someone shout, “JASPER!” a moment later I feel myself calming down almost instantly, as if someone injected chamomile into my bloodstream. As my body calms down the water decreases from my arm to my hand then to my finger where it is just barely splashing out. Then it stops all together.

“I’m so sorry.” I state voice laced with shame.

“Hey it is okay, no one was hurt and now we know where you are at with it. We will have to look for a way for you to control it. It won’t be easy but I know you can do this.”  

“And if I can’t?” I ask in a broken voice.

“You will be able to, everything takes time.” he tells me reassuringly.

Seth’s pov

“Hey Jake, who’s the cute new girl talking to Carlisle?” I ask not taking my eyes off the beautiful girl.

“That is y/n, stay away from her, she is a little weird.” he replies

“I think I will be the judge of that, and besides Jake we are werewolves who hang around vampires, I think she can’t top that.” I state walking towards her to introduce myself now she is alone.

However, before I can get all the way to her, I hear Leah howl in the distance, “Of course.” I groan and turn around running toward the woods after one last glance.

I sadly didn’t get a chance to introduce myself to the beautiful girl let alone see very much of her around for another two months, Jake made sure of that. He purposely kept me busy with useless pack tasks that were not even a thing before she got here. Thank you, Jacob.

y/n pov

I have been living at the Cullen’s house for about three months now and I have made very little to no progress what so ever. Carlisle says I shouldn’t lose hope but I am starting too. I had to start sleeping in the bathtub that is located in the bathroom of my bedroom. I don’t want to ruin any of the furniture at night in my sleep. The Cullen’s have been nothing but nice and patient to me, though my favorites are probably Alice and Jasper as they are the most patient with me aside from Esme and Carlisle.

As today is a nice sunny day the Cullen’s are out hunting. I take this opportunity to go out in to the warm sun and practice with no one around to make me nervous. Practicing in the sun is also ideal for me as the particles of water in the air are very low.

I am outside but I am having a hard time grounding myself like Alice taught me how to. This causes me to get frustrated, and water shoots out in all directions from my raised hands. I sigh in disappointment and defeat dropping my hand heavily to my sides. Instead, I try to manipulate the water particles around me, I slowly see them swirl around me before creating a bubble in front of me. 

My focus breaks as a soft voice startles me, “You are getting a lot better.”  

I jump a bit and the bubble comes splashing to the ground, water hitting my shoes. “I’m sorry I didn’t intend to startle you.”

A young man comes to stand in front of me with a soft smile. I study his face to notice he as soft almost elf like features. I watch his eyes widen and he puts his hand out towards me. “Hi, my name is Seth Clearwater.”

“Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you, Seth.” I state and without thinking I nervously shake his hand. I pull away quickly when I notice a few drops of water full out of my palm, “I am so sorry.”  I rush out looking at the ground, while doing so I miss the hurt look that crosses his features.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, it was an accident and it is not like you hurt me.”  

The last three words echo in my head as I start to think about the incident that got me here in the first place. I start to feel very ungrounded, suddenly worried that I could hurt Seth I say, “I uh got to go.” and sprint towards the house. Once I am in the safety of my bathroom I get into my tub and sit with my knees to my chest. I feel the water start to flow around me in a cold stream.

I faintly hear a soft knock on the door, “y/n please don’t shut me out, I can help you.” Seth's soothing voice call out from behind the door.

“Seth please go away; I don’t want to hurt you.” I cry out at the thought of hurting Seth.

“You won’t hurt me I promise.” I hear him call back desperately

“But Seth I am very dangerous, I could hurt you so easily and I don’t want to ever hurt you. So please go away for your own safety.” I hear him slowly walk away in defeat.

Extreme sadness takes over my body and I end up crying myself to sleep that night in my uncomfortable bathtub.

Seth’s pov

Wow... I finally understand what the guys mean when they say gravity shifts and you are now being held to Earth by.... her. I finally found her my imprint, my soulmate and she is pushing me away; not going to lie this is the worst pain I have ever felt not even shifting for the very first time can top this. This does not mean I am just going to give up on her though, she just needs some time and I am more than willing to give that to her.

Two weeks goes by and I see her outside practicing again, this time Carlisle is around. I can feel the distress that is starting to radiate off of her like she is panicked over something. Without thinking I rush over to her and pull her panicked frame into my chest holding her. I miss Carlisle's panicked look that he throws my way as my only priority is calming my imprint down.  

“Shh y/n it is okay, I got you, you are safe.” I try to soothe her unbothered by the cold water that is soaking my clothes.

She struggles slightly, “Seth please let me go, I can’t hurt you please.”

“No sweetheart. You won’t hurt me, it is okay, I trust you and I am not letting you go.” I gently cradle her head to my chest as I take deep breaths allowing my warm but now very wet chest to soothe her cold figure. “Just breathe love.” and slowly the water starts to dissipate from around us until it stops all together.

I gently raise her chin so I can look into her now relaxed eyes, “see, you are fine.”

“h-how did you do that?” she questions me.

“How about we take a walk and I will tell you.” I ask allowing my arms to go slack so she can remove herself from them.

We walk until we stop in front of a small stream and we both sit on a nearby log that has washed up on shore a few weeks ago. I start talking, “I was able to calm you down like I did because you are my imprint and I confidently knew that you would not hurt me.”

“Imprint? Like Jake and Ness?” I hear her question

“Yeah, like them, I can be whatever you need me to be, but please no more pushing me away, I can help you gain control over your power.” I say and gently grab her hand intertwining our fingers and I feel her relax further.

y/n pov

I am not used to feeling this relaxed and grounded that I decide to try something, I look out at the flowing stream in front of me and raise my opposite hand towards the stream. Pointing my finger at the water I slowly move it in various directions as I watch the water slowly rise and follow my movements. I smile and slowly bring my hand down watching the water start to fall back into the stream.  

With a smile plastered to my face I turn to look at Seth, “I did it, Seth! I have a lot of work left in front of me but I just showed more progress now than I ever have and it is all thanks to you.”  

I pull him in for a hug and I hear him whisper, “I knew you could do it; I am so proud of you and I will be here every step of the way.”

#seth clearwater imagine #seth clearwater imagines #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater fluff #seth clearwater drabble #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight drabble #wolf pack imagines #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack drabble

[fangirl-writes]

Ghost of You

Calum Hood x Reader

Warning(s): death, mourning, Calum crying on stage. Angst.

Notes: I saw a video on tiktok of Cal singing his heart out to this song so here we are. Not revised, written in one session.

Summary: Based on the song Ghost Of You. 

The boys were hesitant to keep the tour dates after what happened. Everyone needs time and they thought that the space between the accident and the first show wasn’t long enough.

But Calum disagreed. He assured his bandmates that he would have no trouble by the time the show came around.

They were skeptical, argued with him to the contrary, but Calum just looked at them with tears in his brown eyes and said, “Please. Please let me do this. She would have wanted me to do what I love.”

They didn’t argue after that.

Calum woke up the morning before they hit the road facing the side of the bed that would never be filled again.

He can’t sleep there. He hasn’t even made an effort to make the bed, holding on to the last outlines of where you had once been.

The sheets were ruffled and the comforter was pushed near the end of the bed, your pillow was propped up against the headboard where you had been sitting, drinking out of your coffee cup.

The coffee cup that still sat on the bedside table just next to your side of the bed.

A small tear fell from Calum’s eye as he noticed the ever fading lipstick stain on the rim. A subtle, but pretty pink that you always wore. The one that would sometimes stain his cheek before he went out on stage.

He wiped the tear and tried to smile.

Oh, what you’d say if you could speak to him now. “Wipe those tears away, Cal. You’ll be just fine.”

I’ll be just fine. Calum thought. Eventually, I’ll be just fine.

He got up from the bed, not bothering to prepare himself for the day yet.

His suitcases sat fully packed by the door; ready to be loaded onto the tour bus for the next few months.

He always had more suitcases than you did, for obvious reasons. But he swore you could fit everything you owned in that one little suitcase. A suitcase that wouldn’t be used again, and probably wouldn’t leave the closet.

Calum sighed, pushing away the thoughts and walking out of the bedroom. Trying to drown the thoughts of you out, like he always did, trying to think of anything else.

But he found walking down that hallway to make it especially hard.

In that hallway, in those photos, he swears he can see the ghost of you.

The first one hanging there is a picture of you and him that he used to find almost hilarious to behold. It was an older one, back when they were just getting big and he was still a teenager, it was one of you and him, taken when you were just a fan. Someone Calum didn’t think he’d probably ever see again.

But life works in mysterious ways.

The one across from that was the most recent, it was a selfie you took at Michael and Crystal’s wedding. Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth and you’d made you eyes cross, Calum was making a duck face, doing the same to his eyes.

It never failed to make him laugh.

Next was your first paparazzi appearance. You joked it was your claim to fame, being followed and snapped in a professional photo with Cal. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a picture of the two of you walking down a street in L.A, holding hands and decked out in what was probably your laziest outfits ever. Calum had on a dark pair of sunglasses and you were smiling up at him, probably about to crack a joke to get that stoic look off his face.

The rest were either family photos, photos of him and the boys, you and your friends, or just silly pictures of the two of you together.

He tried to walk as fast through that hall as he could, trying to keep the tears from reaching his eyes.

But he couldn’t take them down. It might kill him.

He made it to the kitchen with little resistance and poured himself his own cup of coffee, trying to focus on the upcoming tour and not think about you.

He had deleted social media off his phone. He couldn’t take the constant notifications and reminders and apologies from fans. They missed you too, but Calum missed you an ungodly amount more.

He frowned when he saw the empty vodka bottle sitting on his kitchen counter. God his place was a mess. He needed to at least clean up before he left, maybe that’d get his mind off things.

Put on some music. Yeah, that’d be okay.

He finished his cup of coffee, washing the mug before hurrying off to get the other tasks finished before he had to leave.

He took out the trash, cleaned out the fridge, put away his dishes, swept the floors, vacuumed the floors, cleaned the windows, dusted the shelves.

All that was left was laundry.

He made it to the laundry room easily. But once he was in there, nothing was harder.

He filled a load with his dirty clothes, turning on the machine before tentatively reaching for the basket that held yours.

He blinked back tears when he noticed the old Zeppelin shirt sitting in there. The one that your wore when you ran away, and no one could feel your hurt.

“He’s a rockstar,” your family had said. “it won’t last.”

“I’m in love with him,” you had replied.

Too young, too dumb, to know things like love. Calum thought with a shake of his head. What did they know? But I know better, now.

Calum went through the rest of your clothes, a memory surfacing for almost each one. A old 5sos merch shirt that you’d worn on your first date, not even thinking about it. A pair of music note socks that he had a matching pair of. A pair of skinny jeans you had a love-hate relationship with. A white bra that you had thrown on stage at one of their concerts as a joke, only for it to end up catching on the neck of Calum’s bass.

He smiled at the memory. His entire face had gone bright red and he had looked down at you with an almost scandalized look. The other boys had to stop the song because they were laughing too hard.

He let your clothes lay back in the hamper after he was done. He didn’t see a reason to wash them yet.

But he tucked that old Zeppelin shirt into his travel bag.

He loaded his bags into the back of Michael’s car, ready to head to the bus. Crystal waved at him from the passenger seat, he waved back.

“You got your keys?”

Calum blinked, not even realizing he was going to need those now. “I didn’t even lock the door,”

Michael laughed, pushing his friend lightly towards his house again. “Go get them.”

Calum chuckled back, hurrying to do so.

It hadn’t even dawned on him that you wouldn’t be there to watch the house, that he needed to lock the door. He had already sent Duke to stay at Luke and Sierra’s but locking his door? He’d never even thought of it.

He grabbed his keys before pausing.

Yours were hanging there, too. A keychain with your initials on it dangling next to the keys.

He grabbed those instead.

“You ready for this, mate?” Ashton asked him as he slid into the back seat.

“Yeah,” Calum said, softly, caressing the keychain with his thumb. “Yeah, I am.”

And as Michael took off, looking back at his house, Calum could’ve sworn he saw the ghost of you.

***

The night was going great so far, the crowd was pumped up, screaming and hollering.

Cal had managed to get lost in the music, forgetting about his problems for hours.

Until the song he had been dreading all night.

He almost asked if they could take it off the setlist after he saw it.

But then they’d have given the sad, almost pitying look that they did when they talked about canceling the tour. And he didn’t think he could stand those looks again.

He took a deep breath as the piano notes began. He could do this.

“Let’s see those lights up in your hands,” Luke said, holding his arm up.

Calum reached his microphone and his breath caught in his throat.

Someone was holding a picture of you up. Almost as if they knew.

His eyes darted to a different part of the crowd only to find an even larger poster being held up and illuminated by the stage lights. It read your name, your birthday, and the day you-

Calum looked away again, trying to blink back tears.

“Wow look at all those-” Luke voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Wow, you guys, this is...”

There were maybe hundreds of posters or photos being held up now along with the phone lights.

“You know, this is my first concert without her in a long time,” Calum found himself saying into the mic. “And this way she’s still here. Thank you guys. Thank you so much.”

The fans cried out in response and Calum cleared his throat, saying to his bandmates away from the mic. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Singing the song, Cal hadn’t realized how much it fit his situation until just then. He hoped it wasn’t some screwed up sort of fate that they would write this song and then he would lose you.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” Luke sang. “Dancing through our house...”

“With the ghost of you,” Calum chimed in, mind filled with thoughts of you. He didn’t drown them out this time, he just let them come.

“And I chase it down, with a shot of truth. Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you,”

“Too young... too dumb... to know things like love,” He could feel the tears falling down his cheeks. “Too young... too dumb...”

“You go!” Luke shouted, allowing the crowd to sing the chorus.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” They sang and Calum hung his head back, trying to hide his tears as he listened. “Dancing through our house. with the ghost of you.”

You would have loved this. You would have said that it gave you chills, hearing the crowd sing such a haunting song back to them.

“And I chase it down with a shot of truth. That my feet don't dance...”

“Like they did with you.” Luke sang the last line with the crowd before the stage went black and Calum rushed off to the side of the stage.

The boys followed quickly, wrapping him in a hug after they reached him, and for the first time since you’d been gone, Calum let himself just cry. He didn’t push it down or wipe his tears, he just cried. He let his best friends hold him and he cried.

But just there, like everywhere, wrapped in the arms of his friends, Calum could have sworn he felt the ghost of you.

#calum hood x reader #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #calum hood imagine

[letarasstuff]

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #david rossi x reader #david rossi x teen!reader #jennifer jereau x reader #jennifer jereau x teen!reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #bau #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

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 5 years ago.

 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

#choi san #san ateez #san #mafia ateez #mafia au #ateez scenario #ateez au #kpop #kpop mafia #ateez angst #ateez fluff #strangers to lovers #ateez series