#only ever looking upon them with sadness for what they were even before she knew how Witches were made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 7 months

Note

soccer family Miguel meeting wife’s family for the first time and vice versa?

Oh dear. What a bumpy ride. 🙃

Bit of angst in the end. (Will do her meeting his family later, don't worry ~)

Pt 2 here

Teeth pulled at the inner soft skin on your lips, chewing and biting away the waves of raw anxiety that washed over you.

"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself."

Miguel mumbled as he drove to your family's home. It was an unsettling surprise for you to know that your family wanted to meet him. But what truly surprised you was the fact that they knew.

Ever since you moved out from your family's home at 18, many things stopped happening. Fights, verbal and emotional abuse that went both ways, the constant comparison to your other same age family members and you, and of course, you being pushed around and invalidated.

College was a different kind of freedom for you. And the start of a new life without them. You barely visited them, even skipped the most important holidays to be away from them. In a way, it was thanks to that that you met Jessica. She had been a wonderful support on your life.

"I know... just-"

His large hand covered yours to then give a kiss on the back of your palm

"You'll be fine. And if you don't feel comfortable enough, we can go."

"I'm uncomfortable already and we haven't even arrived yet."

"They can't be that bad"

You deadpanned and sighed.

"Corazón, look. I know family's difficult. I really do, but a couple of hours won't kill you. It's a good chance to prove them wrong."

"I've got nothing to prove them, Miguel."

"Right. Still, won't be a bad idea for them to see you doing fine. Talvez asi se callan el hocico y te dejan en paz" (Maybe that way they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone)

You giggled at his words.

In truth was that you told him everything, it was sort of sad yet amusing that you bonded over trauma sharing. It was a mutual catharsis that somehow ended up strengthening your relationship. He didn't know them, but for the things you had shared with him, he knew he'd be curt and polite.

You'd warn him about their modus operandi. They'd present themselves as kind and welcoming, but bit by bit the snide and passive aggressive remarks and comments would show up. You had hope that after years of barely visiting they'd change.

Something you were about to find out as he parked outside the colonial looking home.

"No matter what, stay away from the Horchata. My auntie thinks she is good at it but... it's yuck."

He chuckled and soon, you'd get out the car. Miguel rubbed your shoulders soothingly in an attempt to ease your restless nerves.

----

"Buenas gente" (Hey, People)

One of your elder aunts, the only one you truly liked and always supported you back in college came to greet you with a loving hug, "Mija!"

"Hola tía" (Hey auntie)

You hugged her back and mumbled a quick 'I missed you' before letting Miguel come into view.

"Tía, This is Miguel. My boyfriend."

Auntie gasped at the sheer size of him but gave him a gentle smile.

"Nice to meet you, mijo."

"El gusto es mío, madrecita" (The pleasure is mine)

"Oh! He speaks Spanish!"

The two shared a brief laugh as auntie invited you further. With a hand Miguel held a small present, a bottle of your dad's favorite rum and bunch of roses for your mother. and the other one he held your hand.

It seemed like a regular carneada for him, except that this time there wasn't meats to roast, but soup. Your mom's special seafood soup that was only done in special occasions. You could tell it would be difficult to leave emotionally unscathed when your mom and dad, three aunties, two cousins, and your brother were there.

Upon you making an appearance before all of them, the world stopped for a second, your breath was caught in your throat as you mentally prepared for the game of pretense.

"Mi niña! Come here!"

Your dad followed by your brother made the first ones in making an approach. The size difference sure was shocking for them all. Your father and brother had to crane his head up to see Miguel.

"¿Qué tal? Un gusto conocerte." (How's it going? Nice to meet you)

Miguel shook his hand with him firmly, something your dad approved. And then Miguel handed the packaged rum to him.

He had explained how you'd told him about his favorite drink. Your dad invited you and introduced Miguel to the whole family.

Some of your cousins oggled him shamelessly. Earning a frown from you.

However the biggest challenge laid ahead. Your mother had been watching both from afar, tending to the food with some of your aunties.

And when it was her time to be greeted, you held tighter on his hand. His thumb rubbing on your skin, reassuring.

You'll be fine.

"Mamá" You mumbled and her so ever deep stare settled on Miguel. Not even in you first, but Miguel.

"Fo you, Ma'am" Miguel gave her the roses which she took with a strained smile.

"Thank you very much. Miguel was it, right?"

"Así es." (Correct)

"Are you hungry? Made your favorite soup."

Her stalking gaze shifted between Miguel and you.

"Thanks. A bit would be nice."

"Hm. Go sit, Miguel. We'll tend to this."

Her gaze returned to the food and you nodded at him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea to just sit and watch. But by the things you had told him, it was better to not create unnecessary drama for you.

-----

Everyone seemed at the expectance of something happening between you and your mother. Your brother was trying to make casual conversation with Miguel, but his curt and simple answers made him desist. Plus, it didn't help his mahogany eyes seemed lighter.

If they were nervous about him looking so big with deep red eyes, they'd surely freak out by his fangs. It instantly made your stomach churn, you knew Miguel didn't appreciate people pointing at his insecurities so brazenly, even worse without knowing him.

Everyone sat down, a little blessing before anything and soon the feast begun.

Of course, eyes were settled on both of you and your interactions. Miguel followed your instructions to then help you break the crab.

One of your aunties smiled at it.

"So, Miguel, where do you work?"

Here we go

"Lab Manager at Alchemax."

Your brother whistled and nodded approvingly, just like your father.

Your relationships with him sure was strained, but at least he seemed to have a bit more self criterion than the rest when it came to pick sides. You'd rather him neutral. Just like your dad.

"Wow, you surely outdid yourself this time, cariño."

That cariño sat sickly fake in your stomach. She was the one that always instigated the fights further when you thought everything would calm down. You didn't smile, just ate.

Miguel was given a beer, a round of collective gasps as he tried to open the beer with his fangs. Your other auntie made a cross sign on herself and your mother's eyes widened.

A custom you still couldn't get out of him.

"Do they hurt?"

"How does one get those? They look so cool!"

"Are they comfortable?"

Your eyes caught the glimpse of him tightening his grip on the spoon.

"Ya pues!" (Knock it off!)

"There is no need to yell"

Silence immediately came to the table as your gaze and your mother's clashed.

"Disculpa eso, Miguel." (Im sorry for that, Miguel)

your dad shook his head at your cousins.

"Do you plan on having kids?"

You couldn't help but hide your face in your palm.

"Mamá, stop."

"What? I just wanna know! You're getting old enough to have kids. And Emanuel is always asking about you."

"We haven't discussed it yet." Miguel cleaned his hands with lemon, rinsing away the fishy smell out of his fingers. The coldness in his voice only matched your mom's icy stare.

"Oh."

"But do you want to have kids, Miguel?"

"Dios mío, ma! Ya basta." (My god, Mom! Enough.)

"Why are you so mad over a question?"

Miguel's jaw clenched. It made sense for him why you didn't visit. The way you rolled your eyes, made the ones that had finished already to stand up and leave. Their cue to leave things unfold.

Your elder auntie seized your mom with a glare. Your dad only recoiled to himself and your brother sighed.

"Ma, eso no se pregunta." The only attempt of him to calm the boiling tension between the two. (Mom, you don't ask such things)

Miguel gave you a 'do you wanna go now' stare. And you shook your head. Leaving would only make things worse. But you found the perfect excuse to leave the table.

"Need help, mi amor?"

"Sure."

He was perceptive to pick up your cues, the both cleared up the table and took the dishes to the sink.

---

"I'm so sorry you had to put up with it." You mumbled as you washed and he dried. The kitchen felt tiny for him.

"S'fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A bit uncomfortable. But no, not mad."

"We're leaving after we're done here." a deep sigh escaped your lips, "This is exactly why I don't come here."

"Whose Emanuel?" You groaned and shook your head.

"A man mom thought it was fun to pair me with a long time ago. I never indulged him but he never got the memo ever since I left this place"

"Sounds like he never got over you."

"Yeah, cause mom kept feeding his hopes of me getting with him together."

"Is that why you moved out?"

"One of the reasons, yeah."

You finished the dishes and Miguel excused himself to the bathroom.

He could hear the voices from the other side. One of your aunts surely and your mom.

"I give them a year."

"Did you see his... fangs? I've never seen something like that! And his eyes too!"

"Esta niña... Me va a sacar canas verdes. From all The guys she could pick, she gets one that is twice her size. Why she can't pick up normal guys?" (This girl, will get me green hairs)

Miguel's eyes turned apprehensive as his mouth settled in a straight line.

He had to hunch over the sink to take a look of himself in the mirror. He looked pretty normal, by any standards, until of course, he smiled. Pointy canines bigger than the average people stood out the most. His eyes were a different shade of brown. That was all.

He was fine.

He was normal.

He knew things like this would happen, he expected a bit of trouble. Not this.

His head felt heavy. Sudden spiral thoughts plagued his mind, corrupting the good things he held dear in his mind.

"As long as he's rich, don't care."

"Emanuel's surely richer than him"

That was the final straw. He knew you weren't that type of woman. Hell, you had invited him multiple times, knowing that you'd get broke for a couple of weeks. And still did it anyways. You loved to pamper him.

Why?

His steps guided him back to you. You were stressed and surely would cry at night. But so far you were keeping it together.

Your heart sunk a bit when looking at him. Neither of the both could stand being a second longer in the house. He followed you as you said your goodbyes. You didn't hug none but your elder aunt, and your dad, though the latter got an awkward hug.

You went back home. Neither of you said much during the trip back.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#t writes✨#Pre Soccer Family ⚽🕷️

571 notes · View notes

enmi-land · 6 days

Text

ONE OF THE GIRLS

📄 ◜ if mila and the boys never confessed their feelings to each other earlier.

ʬʬʬ. 2023 ( AU ) pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x (f)oc!member (ft. male!oc) req. enha seeing mila with someone who isn’t them cw. sexual themes (non-explicit), alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanisms, miscommunication/misunderstandings

BACK to LIBRARY ?! wc. 9.3k notes. i'm sorry for the rushed ending but it was difficult to end it in a way that wasn't yknow sad and it was getting too long TT [ extra. bonus scene for hwang sejun found here ]

MILA WAS SEVENTEEN WHEN SHE FIRST FELL IN LOVE. She was too young to know what it was, too inexperienced to do anything about it, but if there was anything she was certain of, it was that the warmth that filled her chest and the fluttering of her heart when she so much as looked at them could never be anything less than pure longing.

She was twenty when she finally realised she already knew what love was. And that was a problem. Because, you see, falling in love was normal; falling in love with seven men at the same time, however, was anything but.

Why do you do this to yourself? She thought miserably as she opened yet another compilation full of analysis on the interactions between her and her members – or rather, between her and the boys, specifically.

She recognised the clip playing on her phone. It was during an EN-O’Clock episode and featured the group laughing and having fun together as they played games arranged by the directors. It would seem like a harmless and wholesome moment shared by the group, if it weren’t for the fact that upon slowing it down and zooming in, one would be able to spot the exact moment where Heeseung raised his hand to pat the top of her head – only for his smile to suddenly dropped as he retreated, covering up his momentary slip-up by reaching to fix the hair of Riki who stood on Mila’s other side.

Then there was the painfully awkward moment during a livestream, where Mila was in the middle of Jake and Jay, laughing at something that Sunoo said. Jake was reading comments – trying to, anyway – when he suddenly froze, as if caught in the trance.

He stared at his phone in silence, missing the question that Kiara had asked the members. It was at that moment when Mila turned to look at him, silently questioning his distracted state, her leg brushing against his in the process. But the moment she did so, Jake flinched, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have. He immediately shut his phone off, before moving his legs closer together so that their thighs were no longer touching.

It hurt. It hurt seeing just how hesitant they were around her, how cautious they were to avoid anything that could be read as intimate. Even more so when it got to the point where fans were taking notice of how distant they were compared to when they showered her with attention and affection during the early days of their career.

Mila shut her phone down, slamming it down next to her empty glass. “I’ll have one more,” she called out to the bartender across the bar, watching as he filled her glass to the top. In the dim lighting of the private bar, hidden away from the public eye, Mila closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the burn of the alcohol as it trickled down her throat.

She hated vodka, but it was the only thing strong enough to force down the bitterness of her lingering regrets. Mila slammed the empty glass back down onto the bench. I should have never said anything.

“You had something to tell me?”

Kiara had pulled Mila aside to their shared bedroom, a look of concern on the older woman’s face as she took in the fidgety gaze of Mila who stood before her. She only ever fiddled with her sleeves like that when she was nervous. By now, Kiara could read her like a book — and that made Mila feel both seen and exposed.

Mila swallowed nervously. She knew she could tell Kiara anything, and that the older female would never hold it against her. She played a role that Mila’s own mother had sometimes failed to do as she was growing up — the role of the confidant and counsel. Mila knew she could trust her with anything.

So why was she hesitating now?

Mila bit her lip. “I realised lately that I’ve been feeling… well I kind of have romantic feelings. But the thing is… “Well, my feelings aren’t really conventional. I’m scared that they’re going to make the others feel…”

Uncomfortable. Bothered. Disgusted.

“Well, okay, that’s fine. We can talk through it. You said that you like someone?” Kiara made a gesture with her hands. “That’s fine. I know that you don’t have much experience in this stuff, but that’s why I tell you I’m here if you need an ear. So what’s wrong?”

Mila took in a deep breath. “Well that’s just the thing— it’s not a ‘someone… it’s ‘someones,’ as in plural.”

Kiara was stunned into silence, her lips parting into a soundless gasp.

Mila lowered her head. “I like— Actually… ‘love’ might be the better word for it; I somehow fell in love. And I know it’s… weird— but I can’t help it. No matter what I do, whenever I try and focus on just one of them at a time, it’s like the others find a way to make themselves known.”

“All of them?”

It didn’t take long for Kiara to guess who had stolen Mila’s heart. For three years she had noticed a dynamic growing between Mila and the boys that differed from that between the seven of them and Kiara. But she never could have expected this outcome. (And yet, at the same time, it all made sense.)

Mila nodded. “Eung… I love them all…”

Kiara opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of something by the door that sounded like something being knocked over and hitting the floor. The two women exchanged glances at each other, before the elder hurriedly rushed to the door. Kiara threw it open. There, standing on the other side, were the men in question… all seven of them.

And judging by the looks on their faces, they had heard everything.

“Not a good night tonight?”

Mila raised her head from the cool surface of the bar, eyes lifting towards a familiar face. His handsome features were done justice by the sensual lighting of the bar, the shadows casted in such a way that his sharp contours of his face became all the more prominent. The sultry smile on his lips would have had the knees of any woman buckling under their weight. His silk black shirt was unbuttoned to give a sneak peek of his toned chest, tantalising like the honey which the colour of his skin resembled.

Mila sighed as she straightened in her seat. She moved her handbag from the chair next to her, wordlessly allowing the man to take a seat on it. “Was it that obvious?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in fond exasperation. He hummed deeply. Long and slender fingers all too familiar to Mila reached out to her, brushing strands from her face. She felt the cool touch of silver rings around his fingers as his hand cupped her cheek, raising her head to look him in the eye.

“You can’t hide anything in those pretty eyes of yours, doll,” he replied. He smirked as his thumb brushed against her lip. “I know you better than anyone here.”

And wasn’t that the truth?

It was difficult to believe that there could be someone out there who knew so much about her within the span of two months. Among her own group members, she struggled to open up to them about basic feelings until a year after their debut — even those such as Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jay, who she knew years before I-Land. Normally, she was a lot more guarded around strangers.

But Hwang Sejun was no ordinary stranger.

Mila didn’t mean to seek him out, to cross the line with him. But the night they met was the same night Mila had her heart broken — and just like now, she was looking for a way to forget. That was why she didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away when his lips came down to hers in a teasing brush of a kiss.

Mila lowered her head from where she sat on the couch, surrounded by her group members.

“Is it true?” Jay whispered almost inaudibly as he sat on a chair at the kitchen table, watching the young woman with an unreadable look in his eyes. “What you said to Noona not long ago… Did you really mean it?”

Mila nodded. Heeseung sighed as he clasped his hands together, the dim lighting of the living room casting a show over his troubled expression.

And why wouldn’t he be? Mila didn’t know what he was thinking, but if the girl she had practically treated as a younger sister all these years took every act of kindness to be something more than platonic and even go as far as to profess her love for them, her world would tilt off axis too. Not to mention the fact that his six other members—friends—were on the list, too.

It was stupid of Mila to hope that there may be a chance for her to get a happy ending, with not one, but seven men. Maybe, a dark part of her whispered, maybe those ‘haters’ of hers were right after all. She could see the label plastering itself across her forehead: ‘Whore.’ In capital red letters.

“This isn’t something that will change our dynamic, will it?” their leader asked, after a painfully long silence. “It’s too sudden… I think we need to take a break to think for ourselves before we move forward with anything.”

It was the logical thing to do. Mila agreed. So did the others. But it felt like she was struggling more than they would—because, really, she cared more for them than they ever would. And as she found herself vsitting alone in the Hybe building, refusing to step foot before any of her members out of sheer embarrassment, that was when he found her.

The first time Mila met him, Sejun had crouched down in front of her, tilting his head at her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“Not a good night tonight?”

Mila could feel the way Sejun’s eyes trailed the column of her throat, felt the way his long fingers brushed against the skin as if wanting to wrap them around her throat like he had done however many nights ago. Mila looked up at him, eyes glassy and lips parted.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked quietly, leaning towards him.

Sejun let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll make it better.”

And he would. He always did.

Sejun was no good for her. He went through women almost as fast as he smoked cigarettes; he partied hard, and fucked even harder. He couldn’t be vulnerable, couldn’t be gentle, couldn’t love Mila the way wanted to be loved… He was exactly the type of man she was always warned to stay away from.

But he was here. And even if it wasn’t any coincidence that he was always here when she wanted to be held, she fell into his arms anyway.

Sejun moved his hand to the back of her neck, pressing his lips against her hairline in a soft kiss. “Come on, princess,” he mumbled against her skin, and Mila tried not to think of the fact that Sunghoon used to call her the exact same thing. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Mila didn’t protest, following the older man as he led her by the wrist.

(As the saying went: if you want to get over someone, get under someone else.)

“Won’t your members be worried if you’re out this late?” Sejun tilted his head as he sat down next to the crying girl. “It’s not exactly safe for a pretty girl like you to be alone. There could be bad men around who will want to take advantage of you.”

Mila sniffled, hugging her knees closer to her chest. She looked like a corner animal, hiding away from a prowling tiger, eyes looking warily at the man beside her. She knew of him—how could she not? He was the man every woman wanted to be with, and every man wanted to be. But she had only encountered him once before. She was walking around with Heeseung in the Hybe building when they bumped into Sejun, the older man greeting Heeseung familiarly.

‘Ah, Heeseung-ah, long time no see!’ he said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Yah… Look at you, all grown up. Last time I saw you, was…. What? Before I-Land? You’ve gotten tall!’

Heeseung bowed to him and forced a smile. ‘Thank you, sunbae. It’s nice to see you,’

‘Aye, what’s with that tone? You should just call me hyung, like you used to.’ Sejun chuckled and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, eyes glinting with amusement when the younger eyed the hand with an unreadable look. But then Sejun’s eyes drifted over to Mila, who hid behind Heeseung, fingers grasping at his sleeve, and wide doe eyes peering over his shoulders curiously. ‘Oh– this must be your dongsaeng, right? Mila? I hear a lot about you.’ He leaned down to Mila’s height and smiled. ‘You’re even cuter in real life… like a bunny.’

Heeseung suddenly stiffened up, before stepping in front of Mila protectively, a stony look on his face. ‘Sorry, sunbae, but we have somewhere to be. Hope you have a good day.’ Heeseung gave a half-hearted nod of his head before quickly ushering Mila way with an arm around her shoulder. When they were out of earshot, he leaned down to whisper into her ear, ‘Be careful of him,’ he had told her. ‘If he comes up to you when you’re alone, let me or the others know, okay?’

Mila looked over her shoulder towards the actor one more time, to see him watching them leave, a sly smile on his face, his hands in the pockets of his pants. He shot her a wink, and Mila hastily looked away. As the good dongsaeng she was, eager to please, she had nodded obediently, not even questioning Heeseung’s warnings. It was just him being protective, she concluded. And she didn’t have any plans of disobeying him in the past.

But… he wasn’t here right now, was he? And she didn’t think she wanted to call him after what happened earlier tonight.

“What about you?” Mila asked. “Are you one of those bad men you mentioned?”

Sejun let out a hearty laugh, not offended in the slightest from Mila’s accusation. “Is that what your ‘Heeseungie-oppa’ told you?”

Mila almost shook her head, almost admitted that, no, he hadn’t told her anything of the sort—hadn’t even mentioned him ever since they first bumped into each other. But she didn’t get the chance before Sejun was leaning down so his face was only a few centimetres away from hers. A wolfish smile crossed his face.

“That’s right. So you should be careful, little bunny. Or else, I might gobble you up.’

Sejun playfully gnashed his teeth in a biting motion, causing Mila to blink at him dumbfoundedly. Seeing her expression, he laughed. And all of a sudden, Mila wasn’t so sad anymore. She was curious, instead. She wanted to know more about this man who she had been told to stay away from.

There was no need to fear playing with fire when she was already burnt.

Ignoring his feelings was the hardest thing that Sunoo could ever be asked to do. He was an idol, playing a part was what they did. But it was difficult to keep up the act when he had to watch the woman he loved grow further and further away.

“You look nice.”

Sunoo snapped out of his thoughts to see Riki standing against the doorframe to the bathroom, his arms across his chest. As he walked closer, he realised why. The younger male was watching as Mila applied makeup in the mirror, wearing her favourite black and white dress from Dior with a pearl choker. She smiled at Riki through the reflection, a soft thank you escaping her glossy lips.

“What’s the occasion?” Riki tilted his head, long locks falling over his forehead before he pushed them back. “Are you going out?”

Mila hummed. “Just to see a friend.”

“He’s right. You look pretty.” Mila smiled. Sunoo looked her up and down, foxy eyes gleaming with interest. “But you usually don’t go anywhere fancy with the girls…”

Mila and her friends were the type to enjoy cute cafes and shopping dates at the mall, just anything that gave them a sense of normalcy. They were too carefree to be interested in anything to do with high society or flaunting wealth, yet Mila stood here looking ready to walk the red carpet.

“It’s a different friend,” Mila replied. “We’re meeting at the company and then going to dinner at a new Italian restaurant.”

“Oh.” Sunoo nodded. “Do we know them?”

Mila cleared her throat. “Um, well, kind of? You know of them, but you haven’t met…”

Sunoo and Riki nodded in understanding. So it was another idol, then? Shrugging his shoulders, Riki leaned off from the doorframe, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Are you done yet? I wanted to go for a walk, so I’ll drop you off along the way.”

“Ooh, I’ll come too!” Sunoo said. “I need to go by the convenience store anyway.”

Mila blinked. “You don’t have to.’

Sunoo frowned. It wasn’t like Mila said that she didn’t want them to go with her, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. He remembered when they first debuted, and the three of them had formed a bond stronger than steel. They were the golden trio, the three msuketeers; the sun, stars, and moon…

That was why it was so easy to nice that the three of them had drifted apart. They used to watch and mock popular dramas together and hide under the blankets of Mila’s bed while hiding snacks that they brought without the manager’s permission. But now it was like a wall was between them, one that Sunoo and Riki couldn’t climb, because Mila had refused to even give them a ladder.

And what was worse was that Sunoo couldn’t even complain about it. Because he was part of the reason it happened.

Jay paced in the living room, where the seven male members had gathered following the events of Mila’s unwilling confession. They sat there in silence, unable to say anything after they had rejected her, and she left the dorms in need of space.

“So are we just going to ignore what happened?” Riki asked. “Mila just admitted that she liked all of us. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Heeseung sighed. “Riki-yah, not now please.”

“Then when?” Sunoo crossed his arms over his chest. “Isn’t now the perfect time?”

Sunoo couldn’t remember the first time he realised his feelings for Mila. It just felt so natural, that it didn’t even strike him as a surprise. And somehow, the same feeling applied when he learnt that his other members felt the same way towards her.

It felt like Mila was the only one who didn’t realise the true extent of their feelings for her. The way they would do anything and everything in the world if he asked, not because she was their precious co-member, or because they felt obligated by duty to coddle her since she was the youngest female of the group, but because they loved her wholeheartedly and wanted nothing more than to the the ones to cherish and protect her.

But the love that they had for each other was strong as well. They were friends, who had survived through the highs and lows of I-land together and continue to grow closer after they debuted. They weren’t the type to fall into competition or conflict with each other if they knew it would hurt the other, whether it was for Mila or anyone else.

They were willing to put aside all their feelings for the sake of the group. They were willing to hold their own remorse if the day ever came where Mila would develop feelings for one of them. But they never would have expected this outcome.

“It was too sudden,” Jungwon said grimly. “We never planned this, and it wouldn’t be good to jump into something without being sure.”

“What would we even do?” Sunghoon asked. “Even though she feels the same way, what happens next? We can’t all date her.”

Jake licked his lips in thought. “Can’t we? It’s not like it’s not a new thing. If we’re okay with it, it can’t be considered cheating. So why not give it a shot?”

“You mean a polyamorous relationship?” Jay took a seat next to Sunghoon, who bit the inside of his cheek at the thought. “No shame or whatever, I know it’s something that exists…. But there’s seven of us. And I know some of us aren’t really the type to ‘share.’”

Jay didn’t mention it, but he himself was included. He knew Sunghoon and Jungwon were as well. They were too jealous, too possessive to even entertain the thought. Even now, fans would pick up all the instances where the three of them would grow tense whenever one of their own members got too close and comfortable with Mila—much less any male idol that wasn’t part of the group.

If that was how they were now, they couldn’t even imagine how they would make Jake’s suggestion work.

“No,” Heeseung refused strongly. He would do anything just to be able to call Mila his. But the risk involved with this was too right. “If we decide after getting together that it’s not going to work, we’d just hurt Mila by giving her hopes and crushing them again. We can’t.”

Sunoo laughed humorlessly. “I’m not sure if you noticed, hyung, but she is already hurt as it is.”

Heeseung froze, his posture rigid.

The room was silent.

There was nothing they wanted more than to be able for in out of here and comfort her, because after what happened tonight, they had already broken a promise that they had made to the closer thing she had to an older brother in her life— her older cousin, who they met once when he flew over from China as soon as the borders opened. The one who had been the only strong male figure in her life after her parents divorced and her grandfather passed away.

‘I’ve seen how you look at her,’ he had said. ‘And to be honest, I don’t know what to feel about it… But I can tell you really care about her. So I’m trusting her to you. I won’t give you the shovel talk or anything, because she’s old enough to make her own decisions. Just, whatever happens… Don’t make her cry.’

“This is for the best,” Heeseung said, clenching his fist. “This way, no one gets hurt worse than they already are.”

Heeseung was wrong, Riki thought as he stood in the company lobby with Sunoo and Mila. Because after finding out the reason Mila had been so reluctant to let him and Sunoo accompany her, there was nothing that hurt more than this.

They were three steps into the lobby of the company, before Mila was turning to them with a smile. “Well, there is my stop. You guys can head off now and do what you need to do. My friend should be here soon.”

Riki frowned. “We should at least wait with you until they’re here.”

“It’s not good to be alone, even if it’s in the company building,” Sunoo agreed. “There’s still weird people who can get in here and go after you when you don’t expect it.”

Mila opened her mouth to protest. But before she could, someone else cut in before her. “They’re right, you know.”

Mila froze at the voice. Riki and Sunoo looked confused at the new arrival, but bowed in respect for their senior. “Hello, sunbaenim.”

Riki recognised his face from a few dramas that he had watched with Mila and Sunoo, but this was the first time seeing him in real life.

Hwang Sejun laughed, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants, his Bulgari watch flashing under the light of the lobby. “No need to be formal. Any friend of Mila’s is a friend of mine.”

Riki and Sunoo turned to Mila, the latter mouthing to her in disbelief. ‘You friend is Hwang Sejun?’

“It’s finally nice to meet you,” Sejun said with a charming grin. “Mila’s told me all about you.”

Mila frowned, nudging Sejun in the ribs. The things she told him about her members were all in drunk rambles, where she spilled her heart to the older man about her hopeless feelings. To his credit, he hadn’t shamed her in the slightest, instead comforting her by mentioning he too had been in a similar position once. (She doubted it was the same type of ‘love’ Mila felt, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt—just as she always did, for the sole fact that he was willing to help her in the only way he knew how.)

“Did she?” Sunoo asked, narrowing his eyes as Sejun’s hand found its way onto Mila’s waist. “She never mentioned anything about you, though.”

“Aww, didn’t you mention me to your members, doll? But we have such a special relationship.”

Mila swatted the man’s hand as he attempted to pinch her cheek. “Don’t say that. They’ll misunderstand.”

Riki bit the inside of his cheek, a pit forming in his gut at the tone and the nickname that Sejun used. He kept his glare on the older male, subconsciously standing to his full height. The two of them were eye to eye. But while Riki was tense, Sejun was relaxed, not the slightest bit intimidated by the younger male.

“What relationship?” Riki asked.

Sejun laughed. “I think Mila should be the one to tell you. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Sunoo took a sharp breath at the endearment, and Mila instantly panicked.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s just joking around. We’re just friends, right, oppa?” Mila forced a smile as she looked at her members. Riki and Sunoo weren’t ready to finish the conversation, but Mila seemed like she wanted nothing more than to end it. So she was grabbing Sejun’s arm in hers (her members’ eyes flickered to the way she held it, like she would usually—or rather, used to—hold theirs) before dragging him away. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Wait,” Riki tried to go after the two, but was held back by Sunoo.

“Don’t,” Sunoo said. But his eyes narrowed as he watched Mila drag the man away, not missing the way he quickly leant down to kiss her on the cheek when they turned the corner.

Right, Riki thought, as he watched them with clenched fists.

He wasn’t her boyfriend, and he wasn’t even her senior. He was just another friend to her, who had no right to feel jealous—because he had a chance and missed it.

Mila froze at the door of the dorms, her hand lingering on the door knob. What did she even say? She didn’t think she could be any more humiliated tonight, but coming back to the dorms after rushing out in tears was the second most embarrassing token that could have happened.

She could only hope that the others weren’t still awake yet. But that hope immediately dwindled as soon as the door opened, revealing Heeseung on the other side.

Mila should have known he would wait up for her. But she wished he hadn’t, because it only reminded her of why he loved him so much.

“You’re back?” Heeseung said, his voice fragile.

Mila simply hung her head and brushed past the older man as he held the door open, not wanting to let him see the tear streaks on her face. She clenched her fists, pulling on her sleeve as she shuffled awkwardly into the silent dorms.

“Everyone else is asleep,” Heeseung said.

“Okay.” Mila sniffled. “I’ll head to bed now.”

“Wait.”

Mila froze at the sound of Heeseung’s voice.

“About tonight…” Heeseung took a step forward, but then stopped, as if he were scared of getting too close. At that moment, all Mila could think about was if she just ruined her friendship with her members because she couldn’t keep her feelings to herself.

Heeseung clenched his hand into his fist when Mila turned to face him. All he wanted to do was to work up to her and bring her to his chest. To tell her how much he loved her, to let her know he wanted nothing more than to be hers. But he couldn’t.

“Sorry,” Mila whispered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that—” Heesejng had to physically hold himself back from running to her, to tell her that hearing her feelings for him made him the happiest man alive. “It’s just… we can’t love you the way you deserve.”

They weren’t prepared to face the challenges of loving her together.

Mila nodded. “I understand. And I—I really am sorry… I—” Mila let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go to bed now. Good night.”

Heeseung felt his heart shatter as Mila turned and walked away from him, shutting herself in her room. The sound of Kiara’s voice was barely heard from the room, and Heeseung was grateful that she was there to comfort Mila when he couldn’t.

In the other rooms, where the five remaining members were still awake, wide awake as they listened to Mila's muffled sobs through the silence of their once vibrant home.

Sunoo sniffled, unable to sleep when his other half was hurting.

“It shouldn’t have to be this way,” he said.

But what else could they do?

“You’re late.”

Mila almost jumped out of her skin when she walked into the Enhypen dorms at four o’clock in the morning, to see one Park Jongseong sitting on the couch, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes red from what Mila would assume was lack of sleep. She paused in the middle of taking off her shoes, looking like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Mila should have expected that this would happen. Jay was always the first one to wake up in the morning aside from Kiara; and it was just her rotten luck that he got up earlier than usual. Or maybe, not a coincidence at all. (She briefly wondered if Sunoo and Riki had reported her meeting with Sejun, after all, and he had been waiting for her to get home from her outing, like the overprotective member he was.)

There was a moment of silence where the two of them continued to stare at each other, a silent question lingering in the air. Where were you?

“I was out with a friend.”

“Until two in the morning?” Jay asked tensely.

Mila pursed her lips. There really was no way she could explain this in a way that would calm the older man’s temper. He was one of the most patient with Mila, and rarely ever raised his voice at her. So people would be surprised to hear that he was second to Kiara when it came to scolding her, like he was now.

(She tried to push down the feeling in her gut that always appeared whenever he was upset with her, because she wanted nothing more than to be the reason he smiled instead.)

“Do you have any idea how worried we were when we saw that you weren’t here?” he continued. “And that you weren’t answering your calls?”

Shit. Mila hadn’t even thought to check her phone, since she had gotten used to being gone unnoticed. She reached for it, opening it to see a number of missed calls from several familiar contacts. And it was then when she realised what Jay said. She furrowed her brows. We?

At that moment, Jungwon walked out of the bathroom, causing Mila to hold her breath. He was wearing his hood over his head and didn’t say anything as he walked towards where she and Jay were. But the look on his face spoke volumes. “I was the one who woke up Jay-hyung,” he said, biting the inside of his cheeks. “I woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink and noticed your light was still on inside your room. So I went to see if you were okay… but then I noticed you weren’t there.”

Mila bit her lip. She had always been so careful, but one mistake was all it took to get caught. “That’s right. Okay. I left without saying anything, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you and got you worried. But I just wanted to get out of the dorms for a while.”

“And you couldn’t do that during the day?” Jungwon asked.

“Kiara-unnie goes out during the night as well,” Mila replied. “I don’t see why this is different.”

“Kiara-noona is different because at least we know she’s with people who will take care of her if anything happens. But we don’t know where you were, or who you were with.” Mila opened her mouth to speak, but Jay cut her off. “And don’t use one of your friends as an excuse. We called them too. None of them knew where you were either.”

“Well… I have plenty of friends you don’t know about.” Mila straightened her stance. “And I trust him, so there is no reason for you to worry. Thanks for looking out for me, really, but I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to do that anymore.”

Jay and Jungwon had flinched slightly, as if those words in particular struck a chord within them. And maybe it did, because Mila had meant to say, ‘I don’t need your overprotectiveness,’ it was dangerously close to sounding like, ‘I don’t need you.’

And she didn’t at the time how much that hurt for them to hear.

Jay stood from his seat as Mila tried to walk away, posture stiff. “Wait—‘him?’”

Mila almost cursed for having accidentally let that slip, only to rebuke her own thoughts. Why did it matter, if she were with a man or a woman, or how long they spent out together?

“That’s right.”

“You can’t just say that and expect us to be okay,” Jay muttered quietly.

“And why not? What’s it to you, if I was with a man, a friend, or a lover?“

There was a sharp inhale from Jay at the last word. A small part of Mila hoped that he would tell her that she didn’t need to find someone else to fill the void left by him and the others. That he was more than happy to take his rightful place in her heart, and allow her to enter his. And she didn’t know, but he felt the same way.

Because I love you, he wanted to say. And I could love you just as much as he could and more.

But he didn’t say a word. He simply clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.

“That’s right. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn't matter. Because we’re friends, and nothing more.”

Mila wasn’t going to stay as the girl with the one sided love—she refused to. She wasn’t going to put everything on hold for a slight chance that the ones she loved might be able to love her back. If this was what it took to move on, then that was what she would do.

Mila started to walk away, but a hand on her wrist stopped her leaving.

She looked up at the owner. “Yang Jungwon—”

“Was it Hwang Sejun?”

Mila felt all the air in her lungs rush out at the sound of Jungwon’s voice. His dark eyes bore into her, and she suddenly was reminded of the fact that he was no longer the young lovesick puppy that would follow her around when they were trainees.

She looked at Jay, and didn’t see any traces of confusion. So Riki and Sunoo told the others about earlier today, after all.

“Right. Sunoo and Ni-Ki told Jungwon, and he told me. But the others still don’t know,” Jay said. “We thought we’d ask you first, to see if it was true.”

“Can he treat you better than we can?” Jungwon asked, snapping Mila out of her thoughts with the weight of his question.

Mila’s throat tightened. No, she wanted to say. No man on Earth could ever treat me better than you do. And no matter who came after me, I would still choose you. But she didn’t want to lay her heart bare to anyone again; she didn’t want to get hurt.

So she lied.

“Yes.” A flash of emotion reflected in Jungwon’s eyes. His fingers loosened their grasp, and Mila shook his hand off. “He can. So next time I’m gone, don’t worry about me. He’ll be able to take care of me just fine if anything happens.” She forced a smile. “And you can forget about what happened with my feelings. I know it put you in a difficult position…. So I promise to get rid of them.”

She didn’t stay to see their reaction, no matter how curious she was. In the end, she knew it was better this way: if they thought she had moved on, maybe they wouldn’t avoid her any more. Maybe, they could all go back to normal.

“Wait, Mila.”

Jay rushed after Mila as she walked towards the door of the dorms with the intention to leave. But something held him back. An invisible string tugging him backwards.

When Mila opened the door, Sejun was standing on the other side, holding up a familiar bag.

Mila froze. Jay and Jungwon were silent. Sejun looked between the three of them, before raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Did I interrupt something?”

There was once a time when Mila felt like there was no other place she could call home, except wherever it was her members were. But she would be blind not to notice that the home she had been building from the last few years wasn’t crumbling down.

When did she first start to feel so out of place in the one place she thought she truly belonged?

“Good job on today’s filming!”

After bowing to the staff and giving her appreciation for their hard work, Mila found herself standing on the sidelines as she watched her male members interact with the woman in the midst—someone who wasn’t her or Kiara.

They were in the middle of shooting the concept trailer for their new comeback, and rather than using one of the female members as an actress for Sooha, the company hired someone else instead. She was a petty model under the company label, the same age as Mila. And perhaps that was why it stung so much when she watched them fawn over her like they used to do to her.

“Do you need help?” Sunghoon asked.

He held a hand out to the actress as she needed to stand from the snowy blanket that she sunk into when she fell over. The girl smiled charmingly, taking his hand like a princess would do to her prince. It left a bitter taste in Mila’s mouth. Because she recalled when she used to be called their princess, instead.

The actress suddenly slipped, causing the others to act fast. They all held out their hand on reflex to stop her from hurting herself, with Jake’s leaning on her back to help her stabilise her balance.

“Woah,” he laughed, “be careful.”

Mila couldn’t remember the last time they were so carefree around her. It felt like they were constantly drawing a line—one so thick they couldn’t even smile at her before they stepped back.

But there she was, watching them laugh with another girl without a care in the world.

“Come on,” Kiara said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “The director wants us.”

Mila frowned. It took her too long to rip her eyes from the sight, but even when she did, she could still see their wide smiles like they were tattooed in her head—smiles no longer aimed towards her.

“What do you usually do when you’re sad?” Mila asked Sejun that night. “Or when something really shitfy happens to you at work?”

Sejun hummed thoughtfully. “I drink… or I fuck. One or the other—sometimes even both.”

Mila scoffed. But even so, she found herself looking at the older man with a glint of curiosity. “Does it work?”

Sejun shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Mila asked again. “Would it work for me?”

Jake hated waking up early in the morning. But if there was one thing he hated more, it was the sight of the stranger standing in the middle of the living room—a man who he had never met before, but who Mila was very familiar with.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Mila looked at him, and he felt his heart squeeze when she bit her lip and looked away, tugging at the stranger’s sleeve. It was just another reminder that he was no longer someone she looked to when she wanted to smile. A reminder that they no longer had those ‘friendly’ dates where he would take her out to dinner, and she would peck him on the cheek as thanks.

“He was just leaving.” Mila pulled on the man’s sleeve again. “Thanks for dropping off my bag. You can go now.”

Jake narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Why would he have her bag?

“Why so quick to make me leave? I haven’t even introduced myself yet.” The man smiled, and Jake had to admit he was good-looking—which was yet another reason why he felt a prick of envy, and a tiny bit of insecurity. “I’m Hwang Sejun, nice to meet you.”

The man held out a hand to shake Jake’s. For a second, he felt that this ‘Sejun’ looked incredibly familiar. And that was when it hit—he was an actor in one of the dramas Mila had shown him a preview of, back before they got into this weird state of limbo.

Jake took his hand. “I’m Jake.”

Sejun smirked. “I know.”

Mila’s eyes flickered to Sejun and sighed. “Really, now’s not a good time. It’s way too early, and I want to get some sleep.”

“Right.” Sejun smiled at Mila charmingly. “I kept you up pretty late last night, didn’t I?”

Jake’s hand subconsciously tightened around Sejun’s hand. What was that supposed to mean?

It wasn’t that Jake was innocent or naive. He had his fair share of girlfriends and kisses, and a few nights where he woke up hot and bothered. He also knew of the reputation that Sejun had. And it bothered him more than it should—-especially when he wasn’t even her boyfriend.

“Thanks for dropping off our Mila’s things, but it’s not a good time for us.” Jay sounded very calm, unlike what he was probably feeling inside. “Do you mind dropping by at another time?”

Or not at all, went unsaid.

“Ah, sorry. I just thought I should meet you guys first.” Sejun smirked at the way Jungwon bit the inside of his cheek. He pried his hand from Jake’s tightening grip, before shaking his hand nonchalantly. He faced Jungwon. “You’re the leader, right? Ah… but I should probably introduce myself to your oldest first. Where’s Heeseung?”

Mila glared, and Jake felt a tiny bit of satisfaction. “Heeseungie-oppa is asleep. Don’t bother him.”

Sejun didn’t get to speak when a new voice entered the conversation.

“Why do you want to know?” Sunghoon walked into the living room, arms crossed over his chest as he sized up the new face in their dorms. “And what are you doing inside our home?”

Riki and Sunoo—likely having heard the commotion—followed closely after Sunghoon. Jake noticed a light of recognition, and wondered if they knew what the relationships between Mila and Sejun was.

To his credit, Sejun didn’t seem at all intimidated by the five men around him. “Well, I figured I should get along with you guys, considering my relationship with ‘your’ Mila.”

‘Your Mila.’ It sounded like a taunt, and from the cocky tilt of his lips, Sejun definitely meant it as one. Jake would admit that it got to him, too, because it wasn’t true. Mila wasn’t his—wasn’t any of theirs—and neither were they hers.

And nothing scared him more than the fact that he could lose her forever.

The room was tense. Sunghoon squared his shoulders as he glared at the older. “What do you mean by that?” His eyes then fell on Mila, who looked like she would rather be anywhere but here.

“What's he to you?”

Mila looked annoyed, her usually gentle features fixed in a scowl. “None of your business.”

Sunghoon obviously didn’t like her answer, considering the way he tensed his jaw, fist clenching and unclenching in his nervous tick. But Mila couldn’t care less.

Who was he—who were they—to demand who Sejun was to her? Who were they to seem so affronted by the fact that she could possibly be in a relationship with another man? They made it clear already that they didn’t intend to return her feelings, and that even a friendship with her was hard to maintain with the way they avoided all contact with her like she had the plague.

Mila was getting sick of all this male ego and testosterone. Sejun didn’t help her with his smug expression and his arm over her shoulder.

“Ah,” he said. “Well, it looks like you have something to sort out between you… So I’m just going to go ahead and leave.” He smiled down at Mila. “See you later, okay, princess?”

Sunghoon glared as Sejun leaned down to peck her cheek. Mila rolled her eyes, shrugging off his arm from her shoulder. It was just like him to try and rile up the others for his own entertainment. And she would have given him a firm rebuke if it weren’t for the fact that she was upset with them too.

“We won’t see you out,” Sunoo said.

Sejun laughed. “Thought so.”

Mila didn’t wait for the door to shut before she was already marching to her room, ignoring the way Sunghoon followed hot on her heels until he slipped between her and the door, barring her entry.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mila asked with a shaky voice.

Sunghoon could go on and on about what was wrong with him. It drove him crazy every day that he wasn’t able to hold her the way he wanted to, that he couldn’t wake up to his face as she lay in his arms; or that he wasn’t able to kiss her until both their lips were swollen, that he wasn’t able to whisper ‘I love you’s into her ears before they fell asleep at night…

The thought that someone else might be able to do those things–to shower her with affection and attention–was enough to send him over the brink of sanity. Loving her seemed to be the only thing that was right; but he still managed to mess that up because he couldn’t stand the fact that he wasn’t the only one in her heart.

He couldn’t say that, though. He couldn’t express everything he felt so simply. So all he could manage to say was, “Do you love him?”

Mila had enough. God, she hated that she was so emotional. But this was just too unfair.

It was fine that they didn’t love her; it was fine that they couldn’t accept her feelings for them. But why did they have to act so jealous? It frustrated her. Because it made her heart hope that there was a chance that they could feel the same way for her that she did.

But that couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Or they wouldn’t be here to begin with.

“You– seriously what is wrong with all of you…?” Mila took in a deep breath, before turning to the rest of the men, who were still in the living room. She let go. “No, I don’t love him. And no, he’s not my boyfriend.” Relief crossed their faces, but she wasn’t done with them yet. “He’s just someone I’ve been sleeping with whenever I feel alone or miserable, because I couldn’t get over my stupid feelings for you!”

Mila heard a small gasp, but she didn’t know who it was from. Her eyes were too blurry with tears to see.

“Do you have any idea how crappy it feels? All I want to do is forget about my feelings so that we can all go back to how we were—but all you do is give me mixed signals that mess with my head!”

Mila swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Why are you acting like it hurts all of a sudden if I’m with someone else? You have no idea what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t even look your way. You have no idea what I feel whenever you ignore me, but smile at other girls like everything is okay. And—and I’m sick of chasing after you like some lovesick idiot because I can’t move on because—”

Mila never got to finish what she was saying, because the next thing she knew, she was being spun around, and Sunghoon’s hands found their way onto her cheeks, before pressing his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes widened at the feeling of his desperate kiss, her ability to breathe complete stolen from her. But a swarm of butterflies erupted in her stomach, flying their way into the chambers of her chest, where they settled among her widely racing heart.

Her legs grew weak, and she almost fell to her knees as Sunghoon pulled back, his dark eyes gazing into hers.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Sunghoon replied.

“But you—” Mila swallowed. “You don’t… I thought you didn’t…”

The dorm was quiet. And for a second, it felt like no one had the words to say. But right then, all of a sudden, they heard the voice of the eldest coming from down the hallway. Mila looked at Heeseung, whose eyes held a mixture of longing and regret as he walked up to Mila.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This was my fault.” He looked at the others. “I said we shouldn’t get too close to you, because we didn’t want you to get hurt… and because we didn’t even know what to do with our own feelings.”

Mila shook her head, clearly still dazed from the kiss. “No. That’s not… I don’t need you to apologise. I just—I just needed to vent.” She wiped her cheeks and sniffled, stepping away from Sunghoon. “I don’t– I’m going to my room. I don’t know what’s happening, or why you’re telling me this all of a sudden, so...”

“No.” Sunoo stepped forward. “Don’t go yet. Just… hear us out for a second.”

Mila looked reluctant, so Heeseung continued. “The thing is, we do love you. More than you know. But it wasn’t until you confessed that we were actually realising that there was a chance that we could actually be with you.”

Mila let out a shaky breath. “That can’t be…”

“It’s true.” Jungwon was the one to speak. “We actually talked about it when you left the room that night… We were trying to decide what to do—because all of us liked you for a while now, but none of us expected that you would like all seven of us back.”

Mila couldn’t believe what she was hearing right now. She had gone for so long wondering what it would take to get them to love her in return, or for her to fall out of love with them. She had gone so long wallowing in her own self-pity and doubt, that she didn’t even know the extent of what was happening within the hearts of the others.

She assumed she had rightfully been rejected because they had seen her more of a sister than a lover, or because they were disturbed by the fact that she could love more than one person at a time. It didn’t occur to her that there might be something more behind it.

Her throat felt dry, and she couldn’t find words to say.

“We agreed that we would all lay off and let you choose,” Jay said. “But then we found out how you felt, and then we all disagreed about what to do next. So…”

“So I said that we would just lay off entirely, so that no one would get hurt.” Heeseung looked down at Mila’s wide eyes. “But it hurt–a lot. It hurt because we finally knew that we had a chance… and we decided not to take it.”

“So why now?” Mila asked breathily. “Why not tell me this earlier?”

“That was partially my fault,” Jay said.

“And mine.” Mila turned around to face Sunghoon, whose face had softened considerably—with that same look in his eyes he would always have around her, before everything went up in flames.

“We had a chance to save all of us the trouble, and to just court you together–as a group.”

Mila let in a sharp breath at the thought, an annoying flutter of both hope and wonder filling her chest. Was that even possible? She had thought about it, had dreamt of it many times… But it was different hearing it said aloud.

“But some of us were a bit selfish and didn’t want to go through with it. Until we realised that it would be better to do that, than to see you with someone else.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s really selfish, we know.”

Mila shook her head. “I know about being selfish… but you guys never were. Before… what happened, there wasn’t anything you didn’t do to make me happy, and I–I got jealous even at the thought of you doing the same to someone else.”

Mila didn’t see the way their eyes softened when she admitted it, because they would know all about the sort of longing and pining that came from seeing the person they loved drift further from them.

“You’re not selfish,” she whispered. “I was—am the selfish one. Because I could never just love one of you… It was always all or nothing for me. And I don’t blame you for not feeling comfortable with the idea, because you deserve someone who will treat you like you’re the only one for them, just like you deserve.”

“Don’t say that.” Riki frowned, reaching up to wipe the stray tear that ran down her cheek.

“Please tell me that this is not a dream.” Mila’s eyes shone as they looked up at his. “I don’t want to wake up if it is.”

The boys laughed.

“It’s not a dream, byeol-ah.” Sunoo squeezed her hand beside her. “We’re telling you the truth. We really do love you. And we’re sorry for not saying it sooner.”

“But if you’d let us,” Jungwon continued, “we really want to try and make it work.”

There was a look of understanding between the seven of them, and Mila didn’t know if there was even a second left for her to doubt. But there were so many things she would have to handle: her relationship with Sejun, the idea of having seven boyfriends, the reaction from others… And she was unsure of how she would deal with them when the time came—if she agreed to what they were asking.

All she knew was that she wanted to be theirs. Maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.

TAGLIST @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars

#◌ 🌸 ˴ milana bai . ˚◞ ★̶̲ ꒱#enhypen addition #enhypen oc #enhypen x oc #enhypen poly #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen additional member #enhypen au #enhypen extra member #enhypen fem oc #enhypen female member #enhypen female addition #enhypen x female oc

148 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

Dad!spence x reader blurb where he was gone for a long time while on a case and his 4 year old daughter is very upset and teary and maybe even slightly angry asking him where he’s been 🥺

Spencer has only been home for five minutes before you're having to break some more bad news to him. "Heads up, Aubrey's a little mad."

He knew this day was coming when she wouldn't think he was a hero for being away. It didn't help that prior to the case he just came back from, he had been in DC for two weeks. That meant school drop-offs, pick-ups, soccer training, and ballet practice were all done by him. And then he was gone.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on her doorframe, waiting for his little best friend to pull her head up from her book. Despite what you said, he's still hoping she'll reconsider her feelings upon seeing him.

"Hi, Aubrey-strawberry." He says, walking over to sit on the end of her bed like she is.

She shuffles further away from him, keeping at least three feet of distance between them. "Go away."

"I want to talk to you about me having to leave." He informs her.

"Why?" She asks. "You don't care how I feel."

His heart breaks at the emotionlessness in her voice because he knows it's how he sounds when he's truly upset and trying to mask it.

"Baby, that's not true." He assures her. "You and momma matter the most to me in everything."

"Where were you?" She asks, her voice breaking slightly.

"I had to go to work in the night." He tells her honestly.

She turns to look at him and he sees the tears forming in her big brown eyes. "Why?"

"Some people really needed my help." He explains it delicately and without any hint of gruesomeness. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, though."

"You didn't say goodbye." She reminds him.

He nods. "I didn't want you to wake up."

"But I didn't know where you were." She tells him. "I was so sad and scared."

He can't give her space then, and he reaches over to pull her into his lap. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like that." She cries on his shoulder softly, and he feels terrible for ever leaving her. "Hey, why don't we have a system?" She pulls back to look at him suspiciously. "Maybe when I go away in the night, I'll write you a little note and leave a fact about where I'm going so momma can read it to you." He offers.

"You'll write one every time?" She checks, and he nods. "And leave them on my bedside table?" He nods once more. "Okay." She agrees easily, snuggling into his chest. It makes him feel so much better in an instant. "But I can read it because I'm a good reader."

He laughs at her while nodding. "You're right. You are my smart little girl."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

1K notes · View notes

mydarlingdyke · 1 month

Text

my love, mine all mine

an abby x fem reader drabble

in a world full of danger around every corner, it was hard to truly appreciate the beauty of the simple things. the foliage of trees and how they changed with the seasons and the soft chirping of birds in the morning, a gentle and hopeful promise of the innate goodness that this world still had. simpler things, like a knowing look between two people, the warmth of a fire on a cold night, a smile so bright that even if the owner of it were covered in blood and sweat it would still, somehow, tune out all the disgrace and doom that life brings upon us.

on nights like this, Abby would wonder if life was really as easy to romanticize as people from the old world thought. put fresh flowers on a vase in your living room!, they'd say. treat yourself to a pastry from your local bakery!, they'd write. mere luxuries, Abby thought, even in a time before the outbreak. if you had to find ways to make life feel better than it actually was back then, maybe it wasn't much different from the time she lived now. just less concealed, harsher and unsweetened. like the coffee she drank every morning at the mess hall.

Abby often found herself wondering what life was all about. all of this suffering, for what? the few good things she had would someday be taken away from her, because that's just how it goes. life is like that; a cruel mistress of chaos that destroys everything she touches once she finds its true value. and we're not just talking about material possessions; that's what Abby cared the least for. it was the people, the sad and broken people that stood next to her through it all. the ones that always kept a smile on their faces, despite the horrors. the ones who made an effort to find comfort in those little things that still brought joy to them.

people like you.

when Abby met you she cared more for her life than she ever had before. her obsession with putting herself in harm's way for the sake of others and her habit of drinking out of grief were somehow tuned down, just by your presence. it's crazy how just one person can make a major difference in the way you view life, either for better or for worse. she would see the worry in your eyes when she came back from patrol banged up, or the sadness in your brow that night you found her drunk and sobbing in her bunk.

that was the only time you ever saw her cry.

it affected her deeply when you cuddled her to your chest and rocked her softly until she passed out in her drunken haze. it moved her heart in a way she never knew. hell, sometimes she doubted she had a heart at all. but that night, feeling your steady breaths and warm hands caress her back as her mind was plagued with death, she felt human for the first time in her life.

through it all, for better or for worse, she wanted to stay for as long as she could. she teased danger, defied fate and fooled death, all for the sake of seeing another morning rise in the Seattle skyline, sun honeyed and gentle over your sleeping features. it had become her new favorite sight.

and she wished to see it forever, until the day she dies. until her body rots, and her bones turn to dust and she becomes one with nature, like it was at the beginning. she may leave this plane of existence without her trusty gun, or her favored pair of cargo pants. or without her favorite Tchaikovsky vinyls and Bradbury novels... maybe even without you. it's a thought she dreaded, the possibility of merging with the earth without holding your hand through it.

but even like that, she was taking all her love with her. the love she gave. all those tiny pieces of her heart that she left behind for people to call their own. it was like a promise; she knew her time would come and she would lose it all. but never her heart. never her love. and much less the love she's left for you. she didn't believe in god, but as she stares up at the big bright moon in the sky tonight, she wants to believe there's something bigger out there, some kind of all-knowing and all-seeing entity that could see and feel the worry in her heart.

please, if you can hear me...

"Abs?" you stood in the hallway, watching her lean on the railing. voice croaky, low but still so sweet, she thought.

please, just...

"why are you up?" she asked, voice just as gentle when she leaned away from the railing. "had a bad dream?"

just keep her safe for me...

"no, I..." you began, rubbing at your eyes. "didn't feel you beside me, got worried."

let her keep my love...

"sorry, didn't mean to scare you." she whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you always smelled so good to her.

don't let this all be in vain...

"how about you?" your head tilted upwards, meeting her gaze. "did you have a bad dream?"

I have nothing, if not her... my love for her...

"oh, no baby. don't worry about me." she can't help but smile at your half asleep state, wishing she could see you like this for weeks, months, years to come. over and over. she'd never get sick of it.

"you know I don't have those when I'm with you."

let her keep it all. all my love.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #lesbian #wlw #wlw fanfic #mydarlingdyke #mydarlingdyke works

245 notes · View notes

imagine-knowing-a-name · 8 months

Text

déjà vu

Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.

(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)

Word Count: 1188

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(

A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"

"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"

"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"

"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"

To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.

Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.

The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.

"She's a child!" Steve continues

"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."

"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."

"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"

"Is that the same with me?"

"What?"

"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."

"Nat-"

"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?

So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."

Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.

You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.

You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her.

It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.

"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.

"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.

Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."

"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.

"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.

Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.

"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game.

"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."

You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."

"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.

"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff & reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff & reader #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #ikan writes

422 notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—Just Last Lifetime

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You didn't move after Tyler knocked you down, and it would've been over had Enid not come when she did. Wednesday stays beside your hospital bed diligently, hand tracing yours as she plans how to torture you for the rest of her life and how she looks forward to letting you plague her. But the moment you wake up, nothing will ever be the same again.

Warnings: Angst. Sad!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: wondering if I've lost my touch on angst 🥹 so I hope this makes you all suffer <3 Part 2 will be out next Wednesday!

Count: ~4.6k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The smell of disinfecting spray, pine, and bleach filled Wednesday's noise. There are sounds of people briskly walking and doors sliding open and shut. A TV in the room is turned on at a low volume, meant to keep her distracted, but all she can focus on is that her chair is too squeaky.

The taste of burnt coffee Enid brought her earlier has long been forgotten despite how it lingers on her tongue.

Wednesday doesn't remember getting to the hospital.

Well, she does—in bits and pieces.

One moment, she was being strangled by Tyler in his hyde form, and the next, she was released, and you were on Tyler's back, arms wrapped around his large neck as you squeezed with everything you had and then some.

But you were so small compared to Tyler, and the second he grabbed your arm and slung you around to face him, Wednesday knew it was over. He crushed your wrist, broke your elbow, and hung you like a ragdoll before whipping you into the nearest tree before Enid came and saved you both.

Wednesday only briefly had a moment to check on you, to feel your weak pulse before she had to keep going, especially at Enid's wordless insistence that she would take care of you.

And only because it was Enid that Wednesday left to take care of the rest of the job of killing Crackstone.

It was only because it was Enid, who adored you nearly as much as Wednesday did, that she knew Tyler wouldn't be escaping mercifully, and Wednesday could go do what only she could do.

But after that fight? After capturing Thornhill? Wednesday didn't stay to gloat. She turned and immediately returned to you, her heart feeling heavy, weighing her steps down when she found you exactly where she had left you.

Too scared, Enid said. She was too afraid to move you in case there was some serious damage.

Wednesday doesn't remember the ambulance and the medics. She doesn't remember them carrying you on a stretcher into the vehicle. She does remember vaguely throwing out haunting threats if they didn't let her ride with you.

Lucky, the doctor said. You were incredibly lucky that your gift of air manipulation softened the blow of your head against the tree, and you didn't die upon impact.

Wednesday looks at you, how your head is wrapped around in bandages, and covers your eyes. The machines and tubes that are hooked up to you and assist in making your chest move up and down in almost too slow of breaths. She looks at the discoloration of the skin of your arms and legs and wants to scoff.

Wednesday reaches out, her hand stopping just inches above yours. She hesitates, worried that even the weight of her small hands will hurt you. It's a familiar feeling she has now.

Worry.

Consideration.

The depth of how she feels it is only meant for you.

Wednesday pulls her hand back, placing it back into her lap, where she holds her hands tightly together.

It doesn't feel so lucky.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Why do you insist on following me?" Wednesday turned around, glaring at you while you came to a stop to avoid bumping into her.

"Well," you tilted your head, smiling crookedly at the gloomy girl before you. "Why do you insist on being alone?"

It was already a bad sign that Wednesday was beginning to find the familiarity of your crooked smile something she wanted to keep for herself.

Wednesday knew then that she should make you go away, that she should open her mouth and say the most horrific things that she knows could shred your heart and pride into nothing more than cuts of misery as a reminder you should stay away from her.

But Wednesday didn't.

"I'm meant to be alone," Wednesday warned you, Goody's words flashing through her mind as a warning—a condemnation. "I prefer to be alone."

"I don't think so," you shook your head. "I mean, I've followed you this far along. I think you've grown used to my presence."

"Growing used to something doesn't mean I'll miss it if it's gone."

You quirked your brow at Wednesday. "Do you want me to go then?"

Wednesday's eyes flickered away from your face, staring into nothing with her blank face before she looked back at you.

Your crooked smile returned, and Wednesday clenched her jaw.

"No."

"Then, shall we continue on to investigate...wherever you're taking us?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The days drift and bleed together. Wednesday is a girl used to strict routines. Still, she's finding something rotting about her monotonous day that starts with waking early, getting her hour of writing in the morning, and attending classes (because Weems has bargained her attendance in exchange for a car to take her to and from the hospital every day after class and whenever she wanted on the weekends), sitting in the hospital chair for hours by your bedside, returning home, playing the cello, and going to bed.

The silence has never bothered Wednesday before, but the lack of your voice—the way you teased her and laughed—Wednesday wants it back.

The bruising on your arms is fading into something that's an even more gruesome color. She knows it's a sign of healing, but Wednesday remains true to the fact she hates colors.

Wednesday lifts her hand, tracing the lines of your hand so faint and delicately. If those who knew her saw her now, they'd never be able to believe that she was capable of such gentleness.

You don't flinch. You never do.

Wednesday can't tell if she's hurting you or not, but you've always been too capable of hiding your feelings and thoughts—perhaps Wednesday never knew all along if she was hurting you.

The irony of Enid's words calling her out for her callousness and disregard for others rings so true now.

Wednesday closes her eyes. If she closes them long enough, she can almost hallucinate hearing your voice laugh weakly and telling her it's not as bad as it looks.

Wednesday opens her eyes, staring back down at your too-still body.

But it was. It was that bad.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Did you fight with Enid?"

"That's none of your concern."

You laughed, and it sounded like the strings of her cello that carry during the late hours of the night.

Wednesday worshipped the sound of her cello.

"Well, fair enough. I don't know why I asked since it's so clear from Enid's huffiness all day that you two clearly did fight. She's been ranting to Yoko and me non-stop that she's not returning to this room."

The words twinged in Wednesday's heart, plucking at its strings in an unfamiliar rhythm.

"Good," Wednesday bit out anyway. "This room can finally look more dreary."

You smiled as you sat on Wednesday's bed while she sat at her desk. You hooked your feet at the legs of her chair and began to drag it until it was turned towards you before pulling her closer.

Wednesday looked displeased, her lips pressed in a thin line, and her eyebrows knitted in uncompromising sternness.

"Admit it, Wednesday," you said in a sing-song tone that Wednesday detested because you were about to say something ridiculous. "You feel alone, and it doesn't feel as good as you thought."

Your words pricked at her, but Wednesday remained stubborn.

"Enid wasn't the only one in my company."

It was such a roundabout way of saying it; it made Wednesday want to roll her eyes into the back of her head and slice out her tongue.

You smiled wider. "I suppose not," you agreed with a conceding nod. Wednesday felt victorious, but the feeling was fleeting with your next words. "But every person is different and fills your life in an irreplaceable way. You must admit that Enid can't be replaced by another."

"And why must I admit that?" Wednesday glared, kicking your feet away from her chair. "I don't need Enid. I have Thing, and I have—" Wednesday's nose scrunched in displeasure. "You."

You seemed adamant about shaking up her life ever since you entered it. Wednesday, particularly, was disturbed by the constant barrage of emotions you keep trying to drag her into. It was becoming a slippery slope.

Wednesday's assault didn't seem to bother you as you kept your relaxed expression.

"As flattering as it is to be the only person, with a body and head attached to my hand, that you need—"

"I didn't say I needed you."

"—You should make up with Enid. I know you miss her, Wednesday."

Wednesday said nothing. She wanted to spout curses at you and make you take back everything you were saying. So ridiculous. So...defeatingly correct.

You grinned at her.

"Surround yourself with people you appreciate, Wednesday. There's no way someone as lovely as you could be destined to be alone. Ravens are still known to feed with other flocks and play with the wolves, dogs, and otters."

"Did you just call me lovely?" Wednesday's lip curled in disgust.

You laughed. "Sorry, someone as hellishly morbid as you."

Wednesday let a rare smile slip. "Finally, a real compliment."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

It's just another day, but Wednesday can admit it to herself now.

It's easy now when you're unaware of anything around yourself for Wednesday to admit she appreciates you—more than appreciates you.

Your weeks of silence have given Wednesday plenty of time on what she'll say when you wake up. Declarations that you belong with her and her treacherous heart belongs to you, so you will do well to treasure it. There might be interrogations about how you've managed to do it, but Wednesday knows the answer, even as simple and stupid as it sounds.

Time.

It was merely just time and your consistency by her side that lured Wednesday to you.

Wednesday's palm lies flat against yours, her fingers slide down yours until they shift slightly to the side, and then she's holding your limp hand.

Inane.

Waiting for you was entirely ridiculous and foolish, but nothing could convince Wednesday to be elsewhere. For once, she's at a loss at what else she could do besides wait.

Wednesday's eyes trail over your face, taking in your long lashes pressed against your cheeks like an everlasting kiss. She takes in the bridge of your nose and down to your lips.

They've been a little dry since the nurses aren't attentive to such things, so Wednesday has taken it upon herself to occasionally apply chapstick to your lips.

It's such an intimate gesture, one she'd know you'd appreciate. Yet, you were solely unaware of it.

Wednesday rests her cheek on the back of your hand while she still holds it. Her eyes flutter shut as she mumbles into the quiet room, "Wake up, so I can tell you that everything I am is yours."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"I don't like him."

"Who?"

You gave Wednesday a look with your brow raised. "Tyler, obviously."

"You can join the queue," Wednesday looked uninterested in your words. "There seems to be a long line."

"Shouldn't that be an obvious sign that he sucks?" You sighed but kept your eyes on the barista. "Why do you keep spending time with him?"

"There are plenty of people that don't like me, and I find myself to be far superior to most people," Wednesday flipped the page of her book, not quite paying attention to you.

You look back at Wednesday with a lopsided smile. "I don't think people dislike you, Wednesday. I think they're scared of you."

"As they should be."

You let out another sigh. "So, I guess there's no convincing you that you should stop spending time with Tyler?"

"Do you have any sound reason other than 'his vibes are off'?"

"I don't like the way he looks at you," you spouted off immediately, looking at Tyler again with a reproachful look he seemed unaware of.

Wednesday scoffed, looking up at you. "You sound jealous."

The words were meant to make you back off. Wednesday imagined that you'd scoff back at her and deny it in a way that would secretly make Wednesday think about late at night.

But then you looked right back at Wednesday with such a serious look in your eyes that made Wednesday clutch her book tightly in caution.

"I am."

Wednesday had no idea what to make of your blunt words, so she merely turned her attention back to her book, wishing her braids would cover her ears more as they burned.

It didn't stop Wednesday from spending time with Tyler, but now she kept thinking about you each time she did.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

Wednesday is at the vending machine, staring blankly at the snacks and drinks. Enid insisted that she should stretch her legs and sent Wednesday on a mission to grab snacks for everyone. The werewolf had shoved money into her hand and practically pushed Wednesday out the door.

Her own reflection stares back at her, and Wednesday admits that she looks worse than she normally does. It's subtle, and perhaps no one but Enid could tell how her eyes are sunken in a little more than usual. Her braids are not completely symmetrical, and the air around her is stale.

Wednesday's about to put the money given to her into the machine when the phone in her pocket vibrates non-stop. The sensation of it makes Wednesday grimace as she pulls it out. Her eyes roam quickly over the words before she turns around and takes off back to your room.

The vending machine was two floors down, and Wednesday ran up the stairs instead of taking the excruciatingly slow elevator. She's by no means unfit in any way, but the anticipation makes her breathless as she enters your room.

Everyone in the room is waiting with bated breath as you shift in your bed, the air suddenly moving around in the room and creating a slight breeze.

There's a small groan from your lips, and Wednesday is immediately at your side, grasping your hand in hers. The sudden contact makes the breeze disappear as you settle back into stillness. Your eyes flutter a couple of times before they open blearily.

The room's harsh light blinds you momentarily, and Wednesday immediately uses her other hand and places it just inches above your head to shield you from the direct light.

You open your eyes more easily, letting things come into focus. Wednesday watches as you seem slightly confused, and Enid rushes to your side, her head popping into view along with Wednesday's hand.

Your bedside was slightly propped up, but Enid moved to press the button to slowly recline you up further so that you could see everyone.

"You're awake!" Enid is half-yelling, trying to keep quiet because Wednesday would kill her if her yelling disturbed you in any way, but unable to contain her excitement. "How are you feeling? Should we call the doctor? I think Yoko already did. Oh my god, you're finally awake. The bruising looks like it's gone away for the most part, but now that you're up, it should get better quickly!"

"Jesus, Sinclair," Bianca drawls with a half-scowl. "Give her some breathing room. She's already got Wednesday up in her space, protecting her from the light like a knight in gothic armor."

Enid turns to glare at Bianca, but Wednesday doesn't pay attention to any of it. Her eyes are focused on yours. Your eyes are looking everywhere in the room, looking uncomfortable. Your eyes finally drift to Wednesday, and while they're undoubtedly your eyes, Wednesday feels something amiss.

It's you...but not.

The moment you lock eyes with Wednesday, you finally seem to notice that she's holding your hand, and you pull it away awkwardly. The action makes Wednesday slowly pull both her hands back to herself.

Dread fills her.

You wince a little at the light fully unobstructed, but you adjust.

"Enid?" You sound confused as you look at the blonde with pink and blue streaks in her hair.

"Yes!" Enid smiles at you, and you smile back unsurely.

"Am I at the hospital?" You ask slowly, wincing as you touch your head softly and feel the bandage.

"Yeah..." Enid purses her lips. "What's the last thing you remember?"

You blink at the question, silent as you consider your answer.

"I...I don't know," you eventually say. "I think at the library? People were making such a racket about the news, and I was trying to get away from all the noise in the quad."

Enid's brows furrow at the answer. That was too vague to determine anything.

You swallow, turning your head to look at Wednesday, who has no expression, and for once, she knows you can't tell what she's really feeling.

"Um...you're the new girl, right?" You fiddle with your blanket awkwardly. "Wednesday, I think? Enid was excited about you arriving, and she'd finally have a roommate."

The words she's been saving for you die in her throat, leaving something hollow for her to swallow down.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knew that the damage to your head was serious. However, she didn't think you'd lose a couple months' worth of your memories.

Amnesia.

That's what the doctor said, but he couldn't determine whether you'd regain them. He seemed hopeful, and while your parents failed to show up and Weems stepped in as acting guardian, he spouted suggestions on how to help you regain them.

But then he also reiterated that it might not come back.

How utterly useless.

You would be discharged in a few days, free to return to school, where you'd have to take it easy.

Your roommate Yoko practically assigned herself to look after you since you'd be stuck in your dorm for a few days to fully recover.

There was a moment when Enid was about to catch you up on everything, but Wednesday pulled her aside first.

"Don't tell her about me," Wednesday orders.

"What?" Enid's jaw drops before she whisper-yells, "What do you mean?! I've been pulling my hair out for the last couple of months because of you two and you're finally about to get together and you want me to not tell her about it? It better be because you're going to."

Wednesday shakes her head. "She doesn't remember."

"Which is why we should tell her!" Enid is exasperated.

"There's no point in telling her if she doesn't remember how she felt," Wednesday snaps back, trying to remain quiet. Her eyes peer past Enid's shoulder at you. You're talking with Yoko, staying cautious about Bianca and Xavier there but not saying anything about it. You look briefly at Wednesday as well, pursing your lips in what she thinks is a smile but can't really tell anymore. It's not a look you've given her before.

Wednesday looks back at Enid. "Just because she'll know doesn't mean she'll suddenly feel it again. The knowledge of it all might burden her instead, and I—" Wednesday clenches her jaw and fist tightly. "I don't want to risk that she'll feel burdened or obligated to me."

The words sting in a way Wednesday's not used to.

There's no way for her to express to Enid that Wednesday wants you to know every possible way you love her. She wants you to feel it the way you forced her to.

Despite Wednesday's extensive vocabulary, there are no words to describe the desperation that lingers under her skin, clawing around with desire with how she just wants you to look at her and know.

Enid takes in her roommate's bitter expression and sighs, relenting. "Fine. I won't tell her exactly what went on between you two—not that I fully know anyhow. I'll just tell her that you were friends. That will at least explain why you're at the hospital."

Wednesday nods stiffly, and Enid lifts her hands towards the other girl's shoulder, hesitating briefly before placing her hand on Wednesday comfortingly. Wednesday allows it briefly before shrugging it away, and the two of them return to your bedside.

You smile at Enid, eyes trailing over to Wednesday's curiously, and it brings her some comfort.

After all, everything started with your curiosity.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we're friends?" You ask slowly, taking in Wednesday's stiff sitting posture. There was a distinctive space between the two of you, and you had your legs crossed, slanted away from her.

A couple of weeks have passed, and it was in the midst of winter. Despite Enid regaling the last couple of months to you, Wednesday hasn't had much opportunity to see you. In the same breath, you didn't seem to be seeking out Wednesday's company for answers, either.

The only reason Wednesday was sitting with you now was because both Yoko and Enid were busy with their after-school activities, and you needed help going to the library to catch up on your studies.

It became clear quickly that because you didn't remember getting closer to Bianca and Xavier, you were uncomfortable being alone with either of them.

So, Wednesday was quick to volunteer despite you still remaining uncomfortable at the suggestion.

"It's fine," Yoko reassured you. "Wednesday excels in all her classes and can definitely help you."

It had felt like a jagged knife slowly ripped across Wednesday's heart that you needed to be reassured to be alone with her.

It feels like that cut was endlessly bleeding, unable to stitch itself back together while you remained ignorant about her, about yourself, about everything. This heart that Wednesday caged in for so long was finally free and yours…and you didn’t even want to hold it.

"Yes," Wednesday confirms, despite how the words feel stale on her tongue.

The library was, for the most part, empty, leaving the two of you with privacy. Wednesday was helping you catch up on assignments and going through lessons until you determined you needed a break.

Now, you seem to be asking for answers nonchalantly, as if you were only asking because there happened to be an opportunity—not because you were interested in actually knowing.

"We must've been pretty close if I was willing to tag along with you during these seemingly dangerous investigations, and even willing to take a hit for you," you comment thoughtfully as you consider what you've been told.

"I suppose," Wednesday bites out.

"Did we do anything else than risk our lives together?" You ask, and Wednesday grips the pen she's holding tighter.

Sometimes—when you're not talking and focused on something else—it feels like nothing has changed. Or at least, Wednesday can pretend nothing changed.

But it was moments like these, where you look at her like she's nothing but a stranger and ask these questions, that she becomes acutely aware that nothing has been the same since you woke up.

Wednesday takes a quiet deep breath before she answers. "We studied—like this. You often kept me company while I wrote or played my cello."

"Oh, those are pretty cool hobbies. And I just sat there?"

Wednesday nods. "Sometimes you'd paint Thing's nails."

"Thing?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Wednesday closes her eyes and sighs.

"Sorry," you mumble. "It must be hard for you that I don't remember anything."

You sound genuinely sorry about it, but there's an underlying tone that suggests you feel sorry for Wednesday, not that you're aching to remember yourself.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"No investigating tonight."

Your voice was firm as you blocked Wednesday's way from the door. The goth girl raised her brow at you but said nothing as she waited for you to continue talking.

"We have a test and a paper due tomorrow and I know you haven't started."

"I can finish it before you even finish showering," Wednesday drawled. "And I don't need to study. These classes are incredibly rudimentary, and I've learned it all before I even started attending school."

You rolled your eyes, but Wednesday caught you smiling with amusement. "Wonderful, Matilda. That means you can help me study and read over my paper then."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the nickname, but you were already walking inside her room, shutting the door behind you.

"And if I say no?"

You hummed in thought. "Then I'll hint at Xavier that you want him to ask you to hang out."

"You don't want to live anymore?" Wednesday threatened.

"If you're going to be like that, I'll have to make it worth my while and tell him you've got feelings for him," you smiled.

"Feelings of aggravation," Wednesday muttered, dropping her backpack with a grunt and walking back to her desk. She looked at you pointedly, and you made your way over and set your things down.

"I imagine even your blunt rejection will make him think you're in denial," you laughed.

"You must want Xavier to die," Wednesday deadpanned. "You can simply ask me without making disturbing threats."

"I thought you liked threats," you smirked.

"I'm both revolted and delighted by it," Wednesday admits with a sigh through her nose. "At the very least, delighted you know how to make them."

Wednesday pulled Enid's chair from her desk across the room and offered it to you. "Since you've decided to be a nuisance in my investigations tonight, we won't be done until you've gotten every single practice question correctly and I can be assured you'll be getting 100% on both your test and paper."

You grimaced slightly. "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

Wednesday smiled in a truly wicked way. "Let's begin."

Wednesday didn't say anything about how your calf rested against hers the entire night, and you said nothing about how she didn't move away once.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The days are passing by again, drifting and bleeding together. Instead of watching your motionless body and waiting for your recovery, Wednesday watches you walk about, carrying on with your life...without her.

You seem fine if you have to spend time with Wednesday, but you don't seek her out on your own. It was becoming apparent you were uninterested in her.

The knowledge of it is something Wednesday can't admit because it feels like abandonment. The idea of it has crescent-shaped dents pressed into her palms from clenching her fist so tightly.

You're content to spend your days laughing with Yoko at the cafeteria, finding comfort in the vampire as the only thing that seemed to remain consistent as your roommate and friend.

"Don't give up," Enid encourages when she stands next to Wednesday, who is watching you from a distance. "She's just...anxious. She won't admit it, but she's scared. Everything around her has suddenly changed; the only thing that's remained the same is Yoko."

It was annoying. If anything, it should be a testament that Yoko experienced no growth during the hectic months.

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday said, unable to remove her eyes from you.

Wednesday can't give up on you. You've invested far too much time into her, and everything you've done to her is irreversible now.

You're unaware of it, but Wednesday loves you...that wasn't going to suddenly change.

And just as you've used time and consistency to lure Wednesday towards you, she would do the same. She just needed to jumpstart your brain into remembering. But even if you didn't, she just needed to redo it over again.

It was still possible. You were still hers, even if you didn’t know it. You had to be because the alternative—

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday reiterates.

"What are you going to do?" Enid asks unsurely.

A plan starts to formulate in Wednesday's head.

"Recreate the memories."

Part 2

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

989 notes · View notes

looneyleyle · 3 months

Text

waves ~ f. odair

synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion

warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution

words: 1916

first person pov

waves.

that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.

so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.

finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.

and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.

miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.

this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.

instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.

"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?

he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.

when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.

so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.

after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.

this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.

waves.

when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.

as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.

i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.

i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.

i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.

waves.

the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.

after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.

"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x oc #hunger games #mockingjay #fanfic

149 notes · View notes

rosexxi · 2 years

Text

Slow 🧸🤎

Theodore realises he might have crossed a line when teasing his crush

fluff // t.n // x slytherin! reader

It was no secret Theodore Nott was arguably the smartest kid in your year. It was also no secret that he was an incredibly cocky bastard that you had the misfortune of being friends with. The last thing that was no secret, was that you were not that smart, however you preferred the phrase mentally slow.

You had been in the same friendship group as Theodore since the first year, it was only natural as you were Draco's cousin and also happened to be in Slytherin. As a result of this, it meant you were sadly the victim to his relentless teasing. He just seemed to love the sight of you beside him recieving a low score after seeing you the night before in the common room on the verge of a breakdown.

"The best you can do y/n?" he asked with his signature smirk as he leaned back in his chair, definitely not flaunting his perfect score.

But this time it was different, you had too much on your mind to engage in his banter and the 33/100 made your heart drop. You had always been branded the 'dumb friend' and it never really got to you, but with the pressure of the upcoming OWLs, you couldn't help but believe it.

Without even looking at him, you got up from your chair and excused yourself to the bathroom. Practically running out the room as you tried your hardest not to cry in front of everyone.

"What did you say this time?" asked Draco as he faced a confused looking Nott. He just shrugged in response, turning to Pansy, your best friend, to ask what was wrong.

She just shook her head before excusing herself to the bathroom, clearly to check up on you.

It wasn't long before the bell signalled the end of lesson and the boys made their way back to the common room. There they found Pansy comforting a crying y/n sat on the floor to the side.

"Maybe everyone's right and I'm nothing but the dumb, worthless one. How can I even show my face back home? Mother already hates me for being stupid, everyone does." you sniffled.

"Everyone doesn't hate you for being stupid because no one thinks you are."

"Yes they do, no matter how hard I try I suck, they all laugh at me, especially Nott."

Upon hearing his name, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for all he had said to the crying girl before him. As Draco looked at him accusingly, he cast an apologetic look, not noticing that the two girls had noticed the group of boys looking down at them. They hurriedly rushed to their dorm.

"Well done Nott, you've finally driven her to a breakdown." Joked Blaise as he slapped the back of his friend.

"Shove off. We all do it, I didn't know it was such a big deal."

"She was crying last night too, you couldn't of waited at least a day to tease her?" asked Draco.

Shaking his head at his own silly actions, Theodore sat in silence before excusing himself to his dorm. He never thought you were stupid or worthless, he was just partaking in the groups banter and never knew you truly felt this way. Who even cared if you weren't the cleverest.

You was not present at dinner, nor were you present at breakfast the next day, or in lessons. It wasn't until two days later in potions when Theodore saw you again. He had kind of the impression you had been ignoring him, and his suspicions were proven right when you didn't take your usual seat next to him, but instead next to Lavender.

"Y/N you can partner up with Nott today, lets hope he can teach you a thing today." Snape said rather uninterestedly as he explained the days task. Your smile dropped and you made your way to Theodore with a sad expression.

After recieving your task, you turned to your book determined as ever to do the task without his help. It was a decent start but some way you seemed to have lost it. Confused as to how much Aconite you had to put in, and if it was clockwise or anti clockwise.

Shaking his head at you, Theodore snatched the laddle from your hand, "Not like that, like this, look it says it there." he snapped in a harsh tone, "It's not hard y/n you just have to read it."

"Oh." was all you could say.

He stopped to look into your sad eyes, and upon noticing your defeated expression, he remembered how you seemed to have cried because of him. The same pang of guilt came back, he didn't want you to think he thought poorly of you. It was actually the other way round, if it weren't for being in the same friend group, Theodore knew there was no way he'd be able to pluck up the courage to talk to you. Joining in on the groups teasing seemed to be the only way to get your attention, he now realised maybe he had crossed a line.

"Look y/n, if you do it too fast, it'll bubble up and spoil," he began explaining, as he tried to speak in a nicer tone.

"Erm-" you interrupted him, looking up hesitantly with wide eyes, "I'm sorry but can you speak a bit slower Theodore."

He stopped speaking and turned to meet his eyes with your sparkling ones. Feeling bad that you seemed scared to even ask him to speak slowly. When he saw how focused you were when trying to take in each of his words, he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

"Of course I can, there's no need to be sorry."

You continued making the potion, as Theodore told you exactly what to do and engaged with gour questions. You saw a new side of him, a patient side that didn't mind repeating things or saying them slowly. And by the end of the lesson, your potion seemed to somehow resemble his.

"Ok thats it, you can line up your potions and I'll give your feedback tomorrow." Drawled Snape from behind his desk.

You and Theodore began packing up together and left the room at your own time.

"Y/N!" You turned to see Theodore jogging behind you, "Can I talk to you?"

Nodding your head, you took a seat at a nearby windowsill and waited for him to speak.

He didn't speak right away, instead he seemed to stand akwardly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. Was there something even his cocky, arogant self was too scared to say.

"Basically y/n I just wanted to apologise for being a dick." he finally said.

"I was just going with the group and it was stupid of me. I don't think you're dumb, I should have offered to help you rather then laugh."

You got up from your seat, "It's ok Theodore. You were a bit of a dick but I forgive you." you smiled.

"I'm really sorry y/n. Maybe I could help you study more."

"I'd like that, I liked how you were today, you were really patient."

"Of course of course. I'll help you study everyday if it means I can see that cute face you make when you focus."

You rolled your eyes as he fell back into his confident ways, a grin creeping onto your face.

"Just one question. Why do you call me Theodore? We're friends right?"

"I didn't think you liked me much." you admitted.

"I like you y/n." it was now his turn to grin, "a lot more then you think." he muttered the last bit under his breath.

"Ok I have to go meet up with Pansy but I'll see you at dinner Theo." you said as you waved your hand goodbye.

He waved you goodbye, continuing to do so even after you turned the corner.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot?" asked Draco.

"Fuck off."

"Theo!!" you called out as you ran into the common room. You found him at the sofas with Blaise and Goyle.

He nodded his head at you in response.

"I saw Snape today and he gave me my feedback." you said with the biggest smile he had ever seen, as you shoved a piece of parchment in his face.

Exceed Expectations

was written in scruffy red ink.

"Hey y/n that's great." he said as got up to take the paper into his hands.

"It's all thanks to you." you grinned.

You took the sheet out of his hands and planted a soft kiss to his cheek. Before he could react you were skipping off to dinner, leaving a starstruck Theodore Nott in the middle of the common room. He didn't clock the noises and exclamations coming from the two boys on the sofa, instead bringing up a hand to hold his cheek.

He was going to look forward to your study sessions.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #slytherin #theodore nott x reader #hogwarts #harry potter fluff #harry potter x reader #harry potter

2K notes · View notes

moonmeg · 8 months

Text

"So, tell me! Where have you been all this time?", Cat asked handing her old friend a mug while sitting down on the sofa herself.

Breena accepted the mug smiling and crossed her legs before she began telling her tale.

"Well, it started with me traveling around the Isles. I wanted adventure, I wanted to see new things and so I packed my things and went."

"Your parents never told us that.", Catherine frowned.

When Ahana and her noticed Breena was gone not even Breena's parents knew where exactly their daughter was. All they had was a note saying to not worry, she'll be fine. Breena didn't have the best relationship with her parents and Catherine remembered the red-haired girl as a fierce and quite rebellious individual - the fact Breena left was not as big a surprise as it should've been. Yet Catherine and Ahana couldn't believe their trio was down to a duo over night and the news hit them hard. The hurt healed over the years whenever they convinced each other Bree is alright wherever she was. They knew their friend after all. Breena was perfectly capable of fending for her own.

"Prolly cause they dinna know either. I dinna tell anyone where I went. Even though it hurt me to leave Ana and ye behind.", Bree mirrored Cat's frown. She took a sip from the mug.

"Without a goodbye.", Cat added. Though what had happened was almost twenty years in the past by now the aching in Cat's heart upon learning she lost a friend, unknowing if she'll ever see her again, still lingered deep.

Breena glanced at Cat. She saw the hurt her friend was feeling and found herself confronted with one of her greatest fears: Having brought pain to a person important to her. It's what she tossed and turned around in bed for even years after she had left. She never wanted to see Cat or Ahana be sad through fault of hers, yet here she was facing the consequences of her own betrayal to herself.

"Forgive me, please. I regretted it every night.", she leaned forward urgently.

Cat looked up at Breena and softly smiled. She reached for her hand and reassured her friend: "Bree... no hard feelings. I forgave you years ago."

Breena sighed in relief. It seemed a big rock finally loosened from her heart. At least she could have Catherine back as a friend. Whether or not Ahana has forgiven or would forgive her and accept her as a friend again she couldn't tell -neither could Cat- but Breena would try to gain it.

Genuine smiles of happiness and gratitude were exchanged before Cat asked Breena to please continue with her story. It had been sixteen years since they last saw each other and Breena had at least one child now. Cat was beyond curious on how that happened. She remembered that in the trio Cat was the only one to ever positively speak of having a family and children. Neither Breena nor Ahana mentioned the wish to become mothers one day. And yet Robyn was playing with Micah down the hall in Robyn's room.

The red-haired woman smiled and continued:

"On my travels I landed at a small tavern. I originally only wanted to get a drink and maybe ask where I could find more provisions. There... there was this pretty lad who caught my attention. We started talking and learned the tavern belonged to his aunt. He himself was son to a farmer at the same village. He offered me a stay at the farm for the night as it was gettin' late, I accepted and one night turned into two, two into three and three nights into weeks."

Bree began to smile sheepishly. Her cheeks slightly flushing a light pink, causing her freckles to stand out more. It was obvious she told this from a feeling of fondness and genuine love. Whoever that "pretty lad" was, he had Bree's full adoration.

Catherine smirked kmowingly and tilted her head: "I doubt it was the fields and animals of the farm that made you stay."

"Course not.", Breena laughed, "I stayed because of my sweet goldie."

"Goldie?", Cat raised a brow in curiosity.

Breena gave her a glance and then stared into the mug. She ran her finger up and down the porcelain surface. Her lips never broke the smile. On the contrary: her face only softened at the image of her husband before her inner eye.

"Aye, his eyes are golden. So I started callin' him that and it kind of developed into a pet name.", she chuckled.

"Well, time went by and things started takin' their rolls. Pinin' turned to a relationship, a relationship turned to an engagement, engagement to a pregnancy and so on and so on."

"So you weren't married yet when you had your first child, eh?"

Cat took a sip as she continued to listen to her friend's story attentively.

"No, no, by the time the bairn was born I was already Mrs. Bower. But I take no shame in admitting Makenna was conceived before that. Titan, some people have a lover and bairns but never married and there's nothin' wrong with that."

"No, of course not!", Catherine held up a hand in defense, "I'm surprised you got married and had children at all. The Bree I remember never seemed like the type to do so."

Breena shrugged.

"People change. 'Specially once love is involved.", her lips curved into a small, fond smile again. The type of smile you wear when you think of your beloved. "My 16 year old self wouldn't believe I'm a wife and mother either.", she turned to Cat again with a laugh.

Catherine joined in on the laugh. Suddenly it felt like they were children again. Sitting by each other and laughing together. Breena may have changed as person but her laugh remained as contagious and loud as ever.

"You have how many?", she asked. The curiosity once again got the better of her.

"Three. Micah's the youngest. And the only boy.", Bree chuckled and sipped from the mug.

Cat, thinking she is sly, replied: "So there's two copies of you waiting at home, huh?"

Her friend scoffed.

"The only thing they copied from me are the freckles. They are copies of their father. Brunette, golden eyes, the same smile, the same face. Micah's the only one to get my red hair additionally to the freckles.", she laughed and sat down more comfortably on the sofa.

Tilting the mug around in circles on her lap she grinned. "Seems our sons take more after us. Robyn is like a carbon copy of ye. A few differences here and there o' course. Surely from the father?"

"Yeah.", Catherine stiffened. She hated that she did. She hated she was still so affected by Caleb's death. She hated her facade of the strong, single mother was so thin and easily breakable. Thankfully, she thought, Breena didn't notice it.

Instead, the freckled woman gleefully leaned back on the sofa, placing her arm on the back of if.

"It's yer turn now. Tell me what I missed in yer life.", Bree tilted her head as she let it rest on her knuckles.

Cat stared blankly and almost automatically started tapping her nails on the mug. She quickly gathered herself again and stuttered:

"Ah- uhm... well, I'll uh I'll spare you the first sob story of my first relationship. Let's just say I was left a heartbroken fool when mh partner left me for another."

"Left ye?", Breena's smile faded.

"For another?", her brows furrowed.

"How dare they?! What's their name? I'll-", she drew a circle into the air and the mug loudly hit the little table in front of the sofa.

Much like Ahana, Breena was ready to hurt whoever dared to hurt Cat. They knew Cat was able to take care of people like that herself but it was just this urge to defend and stand up for Cat no matter what.

"It doesn't matter, Bree. I was twenty when that happened after all.", Catherine cut her off and hoped Bree would let it go. She almost pleaded her to with the look on her face.

Breena kept her angry face but sank into the sofa again. Catherine spoke of that first relationship with such ease that it left Breena to believe she had moved on from it a long time ago and so she calmed down and loosened up the tension in her body.

Cat broke the eye contact with Breena as she thought about how much into detail she wants to go with the love story she shared with Caleb. How much she could go into detail without suddenly breaking into tears uncontrollably.

"Four years down the line, I had put a wall around me and swore off love to avoid being hurt again. Little did I know, the walls I built could so easily be crumbled... and all it took was a young man with short blond hair and the warmest brown eyes. A little frail but handsome. A bit awkward but kind and affectionate. I didn't want to admit it at first but had to give in to the fact that my heart beat faster and louder when he was with me... my blondie. My Caleb.", she smiled in a mix of melancholy and fondness. The images flashing before her when she closed her eyes were so vibrant and clear still. They always were.

She reached for the ring on the silk band around her neck.

"I loved him. I loved him like I never thought I could love someone. Titan, I still do!"

A moment of silence.

Bree eyed her friend worried. It was obvious now that this story does not have a happy ending either.

"But he's not here anymore, is he?", Bree asked.

Catherine shook her head slowly.

"Some people...", Bree scoffed again and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "the audacity they have! You don't deserve that, Cat! To be left alone with a child to raise! The least he could do is show himself to the child he partook in creating."

"Oh, no, Bree, you got it all wrong!", Cat leaned forward towards the other woman, "He didn't abandon me and is now living a life without me and Robyn! He... he was taken from us. Brutally and coldly. By someone he trusted."

The grip on the ring around her neck fastened, as if cenching to it would bring Caleb back.

Breena sat in shock, mouth ajar. It took her a little to get another sound out. She wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure what to do.

"Ye- ye're a... a widow?", she asked with hesitation. The information still not fully processed and still in a bit of denial that her friend had to experience her husband dying. That she had to bury the love of her life...

Catherine nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, sweet Titan...", Breena breathed and looked her friend up and down, unsure where to focus on, "Cathy, I-", she began and didn't know how to continue the sentence.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright. I learned to live with it.", Cat tried her best to give a smile.

"But ye shouldna have to! A widow at thirty! That's horrible!", Breena grabbed Catherine by her arm in haste. She began stroking her thumb on Cat's sleeve in an attempt to show comfort.

She projected the situation her friend was in on her own life. The thought of being widowed, of losing her husband, the father of her children, someone so dear and important to her was torturous enough. To actually live through it is something Breena couldn't fathom.

Cat took Bree's freckled hands.

"It's alright, Bree, really. It- it still hurts but Roby and I visit his grave every weekend. I tell him stories and we pretend Caleb is with us, sitting and listening.", she genuinely smiled. However, there was a certain sadness lingering in her teal eyes, Bree noticed. It was almost painful to see Cat like this. It felt worse knowing there was barely anything she could do to help Cat. And it felt worst when she realized she was not there for her friend when she had needed it most.

"Did Robyn ever meet his father?", Breena asked quietly. She hoped Catherine would say "yes, he did.". She hoped the little boy was held in his father's arms at least once. She hoped he had felt the warmth of his father's cradling arms and she hoped he had heard his father's heart beat at least *once*. But Cat's face didn't seem like that would be the answer. Catherine looked down and let out a dry sob.

"I wish he did..."

#tdaac #tdaac comic #toh #the owl house #catherine clawthorne #catherine megpeggs #evelyn clawthorne #breena megpeggs #toh oc #the owl house oc

274 notes · View notes

writtnbyhan · 6 months

Note

Can I request a fic where hyunjin had a really bad day and then reader says something that’s obviously meant to be a joke, or idk buys him the wrong order of food etc but he gets really upset and takes it to heart and starts crying and reader realizes something is definitely wrong because he’s never that sensitive and she gets him to open up to her about how stressed he’s been etc and she just helps him get through the day and feel better.

hey!! I loved this request because I love hurt/comfort, even though I don't know if I'm good at writing it...? I tried my best, though! I really hope you like it and that it is what you wanted. I don't know if Hyune actually feels like this sometimes but the mere thought just made me want to fly to Korea and tell this man how much I love him. So, there's that!!! hope you like it.

word count: 1560

Fuck. fuck. fuck.

You know you fucked up, somehow. Looking at your boyfriend's sad face in front of you, you look back upon your interactions today, trying to pinpoint exactly what you did wrong.

Hyunjin had texted you around midday, a simple “coming over tonight after schedules”, to which you responded with a heart emoji and continued working. Luckily, you worked from home so you were able to clean around the house so you could wait for him at your apartment. He was usually done with schedules by 7 p.m., or maybe 8 at the latest. You were free from work by 6:30, so you took a shower and sat on the couch to watch an episode of Friends, sure that by the time it was done your boyfriend would be arriving.

Distracted by the episode, you only remembered he was apparently late when you were halfway through the third episode. Looking at your phone, you saw it was around 10 already.

“baby? you still coming over, right?” you sent, worried frown on your face. You figured he had gone to his place to get cleaned up, maybe dance practice ran late and he had to wait until 3racha showered, or something. He probably had a reasonable explanation, you figured, even when he didn’t text you back, you knew he wouldn’t stand you up.

Sure enough, about 30 minutes later your boyfriend arrived, opening the door for himself and getting inside, running away from the chilly night air that probably made him feel cold due to his wet hair. You frowned, looking at him.

“I’m so, so sorry!” he quickly apologized, taking off his shoes in a rush so as to get closer to you as fast as possible. “Everything got delayed and then Jisung took forever in the shower, I’m so sorry!” he repeated.

“And here I was thinking you stood me up and I’d be able to sleep without someone stealing all the sheets tonight.” you joked, sighing as soon as you finished saying those words as if you meant them, even though it was an obvious joke, and you figured he could tell by the blush that crept to your cheeks as soon as he stepped through the door. Even after dating for a few months, you were always blushing around him.

He froze, but you didn’t notice that because you were watching the screen in front of you to click pause on the episode. After doing so, you closed the laptop and stretched your back, only then looking at him again. You noticed he was staring at the floor and had stopped moving towards you halfway through the living room, so he was standing close to the door, just looking at the floor as if it had something interesting to tell him.

“Hyune?” you asked, worried, trying to get his attention. He hummed without looking up, letting you know you were heard. “What’s going through your head?”

“You really think I would stand you up?” he asked, and his voice broke a little near the end. Your eyes grew big, surprised he was taking that comment so seriously. Before you got a chance to say anything, he continued. “Am I… do I ever make you believe you're not loved enough?”

He looked up as he let out the last question, and you were now able to see the tears that were running silently down his face, his worried eyes fixed on you as you gasped in surprise, quickly getting up to get close to him.

“Hyunjin! No!” You were almost reprimanding him. Seeing him this sad made you feel guilty, and your heart broke a little at the sight of the tears and the hurt he was feeling.

When you were close enough, you tiptoed and put your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

“Baby, I never once believed you were actually standing me up, you make me feel so loved and so sure. I knew if you weren’t coming you’d let me know, so I figured something had happened and you were running late.” you explained in whispers, still hugging him.

His arms were around your waist now, and he hugged you so tight he almost left you without air. His face was hidden in your neck, and you could feel his wet cheeks brushing against your skin. You worry, because it’s obvious that the tears are still falling and because he’s never this insecure.

“Hyune?” you ask again to get his attention, but you don’t wait for a hum this time before continuing. “What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin is silent for a few seconds, probably thinking if you really want to hear what’s burdening him. Trying to be reassuring, you move one of your hands to his hair, interlocking your hands with locks of hair, massaging his scalp. He sighs, and you know you broke through him and his walls — they’re never strong enough to keep you out, and you’re so glad for that.

“I’m just stressed, y/n…” he says, voice so tired it makes you wanna cry.

When you realize he won’t continue talking, you try to get him to open up more. “Why is that, baby? What exactly has got you this stressed? You know you’re an amazing artist so, what’s wrong?”

Hyunjin thinks. He’s picking up the reasons why he’s stressed, trying to organize his thoughts and put them into words.

“Everything is too much.” he settles for, in the end. “You know the comeback is this week, right?” You nod, and he must feel it against his head because he continues. “Well, we have everything ready and only practice the choreographies and film interviews and that’s the thing. I feel like I should be doing more, I feel like people think I should be doing more. Also! The whole ambassador thing… it makes me so happy, but I feel like I’m also not good enough for it, not worthy of such an honor… I should be doing more to actually earn it.” he says, almost rushing through his words as more things come to mind. You’re still hugging, so he can’t see how you close your eyes in a pained expression as you hear him speak. It hurts you that he thinks this way of himself.

“Hyunjin…” Your voice breaks, betraying you. “You are doing so good, I’ve seen you practice the choreographies and I see your work with Versace and… baby, believe me, you’re doing enough. You are enough. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you deserve this so much because you’re you! They want you because you have the charisma, and the look, not because of what you do to promote. The enterprise and the kids, they love you because you’re you, and you do an amazing work. If they wanted you to do more, they would ask for it. If they don’t tell you explicitly, that means you’re doing enough — and knowing you, you’re probably doing even more than you should. Do you think your fancams have the amount of views they have just because you’re pretty? I mean, you are, I won’t deny that, but you’re also mesmerizing on stage, even when you don’t try that hard. Now, I can tell that you’re trying because you look… more than thrice as good. It’s actually unbelievable. I know Stay is proud of you, and I am too. No one thinks you should do more than what you do or you should try harder, we think you’re enough, and we thank you for doing what you do already.”

Your voice is firm, even if it breaks sometimes, betraying that tears are running down your face too. It makes you ache that the person you love so much is doubting himself.

“Baby…” Hyunjin says, and his voice is barely audible. He’s sobbing now against your neck, and you don’t blame him because you can only imagine how long he’s kept this hidden and how badly he needed to hear what you just told him.

You shush him and go back to massaging his scalp.

“Let’s go to bed, okay? You need to rest, and you need cuddles and kisses. I’m going to kiss you until you forget every doubt you have about yourself, okay?” You whisper, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckles and nods, untangling himself from you but taking your hand, guiding you to your room. You notice he doesn’t want you to see him while he cries because he turns around quickly. You smile, shaking your head slowly. You’re so in love with that man, you doubt there’s anything he could do to scare you away.

You squeeze his hand three times, the universal signal for “I love you”. He squeezes back, and when you arrive in the bedroom you cuddle with him and make good on your promise to kiss him until he forgets.

The next day, you start by reminding him how proud you are of him, and promising him that the kids are also proud, and so is Stay. You take it one day at a time, checking in on him and letting him tell you every doubt he has, something just to get them off his chest and sometimes so you can free him of said doubts. One day at a time, slowly, until he realizes how much he’s worth.

#✿ . . cami writes #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios

185 notes · View notes

muzanswaifu · 1 year

Text

Sweet Treat Teaser

Tomioka x Fem! Reader

18+

Here is a teaser for an request im working on for the lovely @muzans-stuff.

Summary: After Tomioka rejects her proposal, reader takes a different approach to gain his affection

Warnings: Rejection, Heart-break, Arguments, Reader has big breasts

The sour taste of bitter sadness and anger always upset her stomach, food seeming bland and tasteless and hobbies joyless and obsolete. The days drew long and slow, chores boring and pointless, yet sleep hadn’t seemed to be the answer either as she lay awake for hours. Mother and Father tried to give her time, but no amount of reprieve seemed to work, so they continued sending her to busy herself around the Wisteria House. Slayers came and went, their time seeming to last for seconds before the next batch would come and replace the others. All of them knew better than to take up too much of her time.

“It’s not you… It’s me.”

“What kind of ridiculous excuse is that?”

With the cold season cresting, more injured corps members required attention, Mother sending for more doctors and nurses as temporary help. She made her (y/n) help as well, despite her lack of medical knowledge, briefing her on the basics of care for those who had more minimal injuries. Harsh weather meant more victims and prey as demons had no fear of freezing to death. She found the cold refreshing, a numb pleasure to erase some of her darker thoughts. Feeling sad just felt so right during times like this.

“We wouldn’t be a good match… You wouldn’t like the lifestyle.”

“You don’t know that!”

Why did everything have to be so dull? Things used to be so worthwhile before what happened. Maybe it was her. She was the one who tried to change everything and had to open her stupid mouth. She could’ve left everything as it was, sure it would’ve been difficult and anti-climactic, but she would take that over this disgust with herself any day. She missed how things used to be. Why did he have to say no? They could’ve been happy.

“It’s not happening… I refuse.”

“Why?!”

“Because that’s my answer. That’s final.”

“You won’t even give it a chance? You were the one who kissed me! Did that mean nothing to you?”

“Enough.”

“I can’t believe you could be so- so heartless…”

“I said enough.”

“... I hate you.”

“ … ”

She should’ve kept silent, but every word from her pathetic mouth just drove her deeper into her pit of despair. Had she given him time to just think about her confession, maybe Giyu would’ve grown to accept it rather than push her away. But all she’d managed to do was upset him further, a look of disappointment falling upon his stoic expression and quickly making her realize what she’d said. She reached for him in the moment, tears welling in her eyes as an apology pulled at her lip, but he was gone, his form disappearing from her sight in only a moment, leaving only a slight breeze of chill. Or perhaps it was her own guilt that caused her to shiver.

She wanted to blame only herself, she really did, but why did he drag her along so thoughtlessly? He was the one who asked for her personally to apply all his bandages and ointments (despite her novice experience.) He was the one who followed her around the house like a lost puppy while she worked despite her mother pestering him to rest and recuperate. He was the one who kissed her when she checked his temperature during his recovery, staring long into her eyes and slowly leaning in to brush his lips against hers ever-so-gently. Although he quickly pulled away and muttered his apologies, excusing his own inappropriate actions, the deed had already been done. She knew he’d had feelings for her for quite some time. Even despite the kiss she’d seen the way he looked at her, his eyes alight with a delicate passion when they met hers, or the clear lust that consumed him when those eyes ventured southward. It was obvious he had some obsession with her chest, his preference evident with his lingering stare and gaping mouth. Tomioka hadn’t even had the decency to keep his eyes up during their first meeting, his head quickly bowing down and mouth gawking as he ogled at her fullness. Sure, she would admit she was decently large, but she had no idea it would’ve elicited such a reaction from the swordsman. He’d gotten more manners later on but it always made her flush when she remembered that despite his nobility, he was a still man as well.

The house was so quiet ever since their fight, the snow muffling any sounds of nature and lulling everyone into a deep tire. The visiting slayers slugged around like zombies with such little energy which gave her an agonizing amount of time to pity herself. Tomioka hadn’t visited for so many months, she wished she could excuse his absence for lack of injury but the chances that were miniscule. This wasn’t the only wisteria house in his district, so he was likely hiking the extra mile to another to avoid her. Even if he didn’t wish to see her anymore, she wished he would at least come to heal his injuries. Just knowing first-hand that he was alright would be enough, just seeing him would be enough.

Before long, even winter had passed, the air still chilly and dry but the ice starting to melt and thaw. Snow began to turn to rain and the frozen ground turning to sloshed muddy earth. A whole season passing without a single reunion.

She missed his peaceful company. She missed his small smile when he was humorous. She missed the way he’d look at her, how he’d look at her like she meant everything to him. As much as his rejection still stung, she still loved him.

The violent sound of clashing awoke her, feet and bodies audibly pounding across the floorboards in the medical ward of the estate. It wasn’t unusual for wounded slayer to come at this late hour, but they usually had the courtesy to arrive quietly.

“Hurry, hurry! Get him to the table now!”

(Y/n) could hear the frantic shrill voice of her mother and the shuffling of a few others through the walls, their panicked movements frightening her completely awake. Whatever was happening sounded serious, likely a life-threatening injury. Perhaps she should help.

She hastily threw on a robe over her nightgown, speed-walking down the hall to the sight of all the fuss. Her face scrunched in disgust as she was met with blood scattered across the floor, leading a crimson trail to one of the medical rooms. It smelled gross, a metallic odor filling the house and watering her eyes, but she continued onward to the room, peaking in to get some clue of the distress.

Blood everywhere, soaked into every article of clothing, several doctors and nurses ambled about the room, throwing commands to each other. Mother stood at the corner, biting her nails and anxiously watching the treatment. Everyone was frenzied but there was only one person on the table. She leaned forward through the doorway to get a better view. It was hard to see with everyone gathered around the patient, but she could see bits and pieces here and there, the body leaning toward male. But she didn’t have to further theorize as a nurse moved out of the way, revealing his face. She could feel the moment her heart stopped.

His face was a bit scuffed but the harm looked minimal, but there was still sweat beaded across his forehead, his teeth clenched together and eyes sewn shut, indicating his severe pain. A nurse’s hand held his slicked bangs back, and she could see the sea of bandages that began at his sternum. His deep blue eyes flickered open and locked onto hers, and she gasped. She stumbled away from the door, sneaking back to her own room quickly and shutting the door. Her heart was pounding, sweat glazing her burning flesh.

(Y/n) had never seen him so maimed, nor had she ever seen him in any pain really. Her presence couldn’t have made it any better for him, in fact, he was probably even more uncomfortable right now. Look at her, making everything worse as per usual.

She finally fell unconscious several hours later after worrying and dreading Giyu’s health. Would he recover from such injuries? Would he be permanently wounded? The pit in her stomach refused to go away, her angst building and building until her body physically couldn’t take anymore and her sunken eyes closed. She woke only a few hours later, dizzy from so many nightmares and promptly setting off to find her mother to ask for any updates. She found her already woken, putting away laundry in the early hours.

Mother explained he was decent, not perfect but not broken either. Apparently he’d stumbled in hellishly late last night, weakened and hallucinating from a poison demon’s attack. He managed to make it to the closest wisteria house, this one, quickly enough and was treated right away. As for his pained reactions, they were also a result from the demon’s art, the venom merely increasing his body’s sensitivity and heightening the effects. He was knocked out from pain killers and was going to be sleeping for quite some time, the actual damage was going to take a while to heal anyway.

Her answer was satisfactory enough, the girl sighing in relief and limping back to bed to get more rest. No wonder he’d come here, he was probably too out of it to realize why he was avoiding it. She wouldn’t put it past him to leave as soon as he composed himself.

But to her disbelief, he didn’t.

She almost didn’t believe her eyes when she walked past the courtyard one morning and saw him active outside, stretching out and wincing from his injuries. She took another route to get to the kitchen. The next day was the same. And the next. And the next. Each day she would try her best to avoid him, finding he most frequented the courtyard and the section of the estate where his room was. He seemed to be doing the same as well, turning the other way when she happened to come into view, staying in his room or training most of the day. Part of her is grateful he’s healing so fast. The other part is bitter. The bad memories still lingered in her thoughts. He was definitely still mad at her, and she was still hurt. If everything went smoothly, he would be out of here soon, she just had to be patient.

To be continued...

646 notes · View notes

jensettermandu · 2 months

Text

-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲-

1.8

previous - m.list - next

𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

wc; 9.9k+

For a moment, Y/n didn't want to wake up. She wanted to end her night once and for all, but the reality had dawned upon her and she couldn't ignore what had happened anymore. There were lines she was fine with being crossed, but certain weren't worth it anymore no matter how good Jennie made her feel or how she felt for the woman. It would be too self-degrading because it had already been all this time.

It hurt to think about it, but every other moment with Jennie hurt twice as much and it no longer was worth tearing herself into small pieces just to be with the woman. Had it ever been worth it? Y/n couldn’t lie to herself and say no because she could see past the facade of the horrible person that Jennie was, but it tore at her to know that she wouldn’t be the one to stay and see the facade crack and let Jennie come out.

Y/n slowly sat up in the bed, she had never been to Jennie's place before and she wasn't going to come back. There was no home to go to, she was already aching and couldn’t ache more just to force something without a base to be her home when it wasn’t stable enough to be one.

She looked down at the woman who hadn't changed and was lying in her lap, hugging her waist. The white tee was stained with blood that was the vixen's. She could feel the way her lower lip pulsated and she gently ran her fingers over it. It made her stomach drop because she never wanted Jennie to take it so far and leave her with so many choices, but only one right one.

It twisted and twisted until there was nothing more left to twist and Y/n was left to feel sick at the emotions that had been twisted and poured over her body. It made her shaky, the sadness, the anger, the regret, the longing already happening, the despair of knowing that she wasn’t enough to break those walls and see the other part of Jennie that seemed dead by now.

She grabbed hold of Jennie's arms and gently unwrapped them from around her, the black tee and sweat shorts loose on her as she had been changed. Jennie didn't want to let go as she instantly wrapped her arms around Y/n again the second the contact disappeared. Heat ran across the older woman's body at the anxiety that shot through her and woke her up in an instant.

She had never experienced such fear, such fear of losing the one thing she couldn’t lose because she had never had something she couldn’t lose. Jennie could have it all because she had the money, but she knew that she would never be able to get another Y/n. No one would ever replace Y/n.

She wanted to take responsibility for what she did–even if she mixed it all up in her head.

"No, no, where are you going?" Jennie tried to grasp at Y/n, her voice quivering awake as she forced her eyes open. The sleep she had gotten didn't help her at all. Her brain felt like mush, her body was trembling from exhaustion, it was trembling from fear and overwhelming emotions she hadn’t felt in years.

"You can't leave me, Y/n." She added and got on her knees. Jennie's eyes which were laced with regret, guilt, and despair looked into Y/n's wide eyes as the girl looked conflicted, but at the same time sure of what had to be done. It made her chest heave as she had never needed to beg someone to stay, if anything she had always made them leave and she did once again, but not intentionally. She couldn’t have her leave.

Y/n was Jennie’s lifeline, she was the only thing keeping her grounded and alive, and she couldn’t lose that. Jennie had missed feeling things despite doing her best to be numb, but Y/n was different. The vixen made her want to feel everything because it felt good no matter how much it hurt after. This was different, she wanted to feel everything but the despair of not being able to keep someone who was leaving.

"Please." It was a plea and she tried to reach out for Y/n, to brush her hair away like she always did, to cup her face and kiss her until it would all go away and be fine. To reel her back in like she always did and make her stay by coaxing her and brushing off all her mistakes by showering her with love. Jennie was ready to go out of her way this time, to do more and better than all the other times, to even keep her promises if it meant that Y/n stayed.

All those gestures that always made Y/n melt into her only made her blanch away from her hold before she could even touch her skin.

"You slapped me, you busted my lip–You put your hands on me, Jennie. I'm not staying."

The words were shattering Jennie's world. The words were shattering of what was left of it, it was crushing her spirit and her barely beating heart. The words brewed hatred within Jennie, the one that made her fight for numbness because she couldn’t live with the hatred she held for herself.

It broke Jennie, she felt hopeless, she felt like she had fallen down a hole that she would never get out of and she would beat herself up in that hole until her last breath because she served no other purpose in a dark hole. It made her want to scream and cry, it made her want to punch until her knuckles were bleeding and fractured. It hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as watching her last resort walking out, her only lifebuoy, the only ladder that could have taken her out of that hole. There would no longer be any tiny light shining down and she would be drowning in darkness that would fill the hole to the brim.

She sharply inhaled as Y/n looked at her with glossed-over eyes that held pity. She felt bad for Jennie because she didn't want to leave her, but she couldn't stay this time. It hurt even more to see Jennie tear up. She had hoped for things she never should have hoped for, but Jennie had been worth it. Those small cracks had made it worth it, the times she had seen the good. It burned her lungs with each breath as she thought that what she could have helped didn’t want her help at all, but only wanted to drag Y/n down with her.

"I– I know, but Y/n please listen to me. I didn't mean for it to happen."

The words that left Jennie only made it easier for Y/n to remove the duvet from her. The excuse wouldn't suffice and neither would an apology, but an apology would at least make it somewhat better. It wouldn't be an excuse to hurt her. This time Y/n couldn’t listen to Jennie’s excuses because nothing was a good enough excuse for this.

"How the fuck do you slap someone on accident." Y/n hissed in disbelief and got out of bed. The sun had found its way to the high ceiling windows of the bedroom, lighting up the white and modern-styled room as the woman never turned on the blinds. It shone light, but it did nothing to warm up the cold in the room as it was all freezing for Y/n. All that she had felt was getting cold as she couldn’t look at Jennie the same after she had hurt her this way and was trying to excuse it now.

"I got angry and I have a hard time controlling it!" Jennie exclaimed in despair as she got off the bed and quickly made it over to block the girl's way. She grabbed hold of her arms so she wouldn't walk, but Y/n slithered out of her hold and stepped back. Jennie's face fell into more despair at the way the girl wasn't allowing her to touch her. The way she walked away was as if she knew Jennie for her facade and had lost hope for the true her.

She knew Jennie too well.

She knew her lies.

She let them all pass as Jennie put them away for her.

"So you punch people."

"Please, Y/n, I am trying to work on it." She called out after the girl who made it past her after pushing her aside. Jennie couldn't reside in anger as she felt disgusted by herself after she had fully sobered up. Her body was giving out on her, she wasn't handling it at all. For the first time, something was fully out of her control as only Y/n could decide if she would forgive or stay or if she would leave. Jennie knew that she couldn’t force her no matter how much she would try and even if she forced her it would never be the same. She wanted Y/n to stay by choice as that would be worth more than her fortune.

It was a lie though; Jennie had never done anything to work on it. She's only enhanced it by doing things that made it worse by drinking and consuming illicit substances. It wasn’t like she did it by choice, she wished that she had the choice not to, but Jennie never had a good enough reason until now to try and change it.

Jennie fumbled for the right words, her brain tired and trying to get something together as she quickly walked after Y/n who tried to get her stuff. She picked up her jacket and the purse, not caring about the rest, but about leaving Jennie. She didn't want the older woman to make a bigger fool of herself. Y/n wanted to spare Jennie that. She still held sympathy for her. The vixen also knew that she would never be able to handle seeing Jennie break down in front of her for the first time the same way she had done multiple times.

Maybe it was selfish because despite all the bad Jennie had always been there for her even at her worst. It didn’t matter if she had been the cause of some of those moments, she still made sure to be there for her. Y/n couldn’t do that. This time she would be the selfish one.

"I grew up with an abusive father and they got divorced, but I was still staying with him now and then. He– He had been violent with me and my mum until I finally managed to get away by making my own money. I truly do not want to be him. I promise you. It just stuck and I've always hated this part of me."

Jennie managed to scramble for another story that wasn't hers to tell as none of it was true. Neither of her divorced parents was abusive, but the opposite as her mother had always loved her while she had always been an out-of-control fire–she didn’t know her father enough to judge the man aside from the fact that he had never tried to be present in her life. It wasn’t like she cared for the most part because she had never tried to mend it either.

Y/n reached down for the jacket and got pulled up by Jennie who took hold of her shoulder to make her look at her. Every little thing she did was laced with desperation and she couldn’t care about how pathetic it made her look. Jennie was grieving the loss of someone who was standing right in front of her. She didn't want Y/n to go. She knew the girl wouldn't come back.

Y/n hated goodbyes.

She finally had a reason to leave it all behind though.

At least Jennie wasn't the one leaving her which had been her biggest fear.

"Yet you're just like him, Jennie and you are putting women through the same thing your father put your mother through and live with that fact. You are 29 and you still haven't figured it out." Y/n spat out in repudiation because she couldn't understand what Jennie tried to come to by saying these things. They weren't making her stay, they only made her want to leave much quicker as she got out of the grip.

"I'm not staying around to earn more bruises because you can't control yourself." Y/n did a once over at Jennie as her tone withered and she frowned at the woman she had to leave behind. It was much harder than what she was making it look like. Each step felt like walking on glass and she wanted to jump into Jennie’s arms and listen to the billionaire tell her how everything would be good and all the hurt would pass. Y/n couldn’t do it though and continued to push through the glass-filled path.

"Listen to what I’m telling you!"

She called for the girl who headed for the door. The lump grew with each step that the vixen took and she watched her being closer and closer to leaving her. Jennie didn't feel heard, it felt like Y/n was fully dismissing her. Dismissing her excuses and lies that she spews out just for the girl and no one else. Jennie was going out of her way and it was doing nothing this time.

There was so much that she wanted to tell Y/n, to spill everything to her, to scream until her throat was bleeding just to get rid of all her burdens, to just at last for once cry in someone else’s arms. It was all for nothing because she was too scared of it. Jennie was too scared of opening up and telling Y/n the truth about all her self-hatred, all her burdens, all her pain and why she was the way she was.

"I don't control it. I don't control it. So why should I be punished for it? Understand me!" Jennie's anguish was clear in her words that she pushed past the ice-cold lump in her throat that wasn't giving her any mercy. She couldn’t push out at least half of the truth and she was losing someone because of it.

"And why should I be the one suffering because you can't control yourself!?"

She opened the bedroom door, seeing the stairs that led down to the first floor. There was so little yet so much left and she would have Jennie out of her life. It felt impossible though as she felt the tug in her heart the closer she got, the one that was tied to Jennie who kept pulling and trying to reel her back in.

"Y/n, please no, just wait," if only the girl could wait for a bit more, Jennie would be able to come up with better lies. She would be able to paint her a beautiful world with her lies, she just needed a moment. The lies that would make her stay. Jennie couldn’t figure out what the truth would make her do, but no matter what it felt like Y/n had made up her mind.

She just needed Y/n to wait.

Her tears fell as her nose prickled, forlorn washing over her as she hurried after Y/n who was walking away. Why couldn't she just wait? It pained Jennie, the tears stung more than any other tears she had shed in a while. They hurt more than the thoughts of tomorrow, the thoughts of her empty future that she had now sealed if Y/n left. Her breathing got heavier at the thought of what her life was, what she was, and what she would be until her last breath. She wanted to die at the doom she felt.

She had taken Y/n for granted. The only person who stayed no matter how many times Jennie messed up was now leaving because Jennie thought there was no limit so she took everything only to be left with nothing. She had taken everything after not getting anything for so long, none of these feelings and it all backfired. Her greediness for care and love kicked her to the curb as she had abused it all because no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t lose her old ways.

Jennie only had one last resort. One last try to make the girl stay as she spilled out some of the truth for the first time today.

"I love you and I truly didn't mean to hurt you. I feel terrible please believe me–" Jennie shrilled, a sob falling from her lips and she knew she had no right to cry or say that she loved Y/n after what she had done to her, after all the things she had put her through. Breaking Y/n into pieces hadn’t made her stay after she broke them beyond repair. She had lost whatever of Y/n’s trust she ever had. Although, Jennie couldn’t deny this truth for much longer. It wasn’t going away even when she was numb. "I love and care about you." She cried for the girl.

It had all been lies before, but she knew that this time it was the truth, she loved Y/n.

Jennie stopped at the girl who turned to her. Their eyes watering, spilling emotions, trying to get rid of the pain but it felt impossible to not hurt in a moment like this one.

"You love me? You dare to say that you fucking love me after hurting me? If you fucking loved me you wouldn't have raised your hand at me to begin with. You would've fucking controlled yourself and wouldn't have slapped me and busted my lip."

The woman could only listen to the way Y/n took out her anger at her. The anger and disbelief at the words she had heard from Jennie, the words that made it harder to leave. Harder to leave without saying something first. The only thing they caused Y/n was for the sadness, the pity, the regret and everything else to disappear. The only thing she could feel for Jennie now was immense anger for saying something that made everything much more difficult.

Jennie couldn't feel any anger or like she was being disrespected when the girl's palms collided with her chest as Y/n shoved at her. It made Jennie take small steps with each impact as she couldn't even look Y/n in the eyes at the shame she felt and stared at the hands that kept colliding with her. They didn't hurt her, Y/n had no real strength, and she couldn't find the strength in herself to hurt Jennie.

It made Jennie only realise more how much of a precious soul she had hurt and ruined. They would all have tried to hurt Jennie for this, they would throw things at her, scream at her and the bruises would form and Jennie would cause them even bigger bruises. Although it never really hurt. Yet Y/n’s weak punches didn’t hurt, but the words drilled into her skin, ripping her flesh and causing scars to drape over her skin.

She wished Y/n had never met her so neither of them would have to go through this, especially Y/n. Jennie felt guilty.

"You know what? Do what you want. Degrade me, scream and yell at me, break shit around me or punch a wall, treat me like shit in every way possible, but you fucking hurt me physically, that's a fucking line I am not willing to stay at after it's been crossed even if you love me."

The words would always linger longer than the impact of her shoves. The words would always hurt more than any bruises. Bruises disappeared, words were life long and Jennie would forever remember that Y/n despised her and everything else she would spit at her. All the things that Jennie deserved. It was Y/n’s time to break her, but she wouldn’t put her back together, she would leave her behind the way she deserved to be left broken and alone.

"You don't fucking love me. You just love control and when you don't have it, you fucking ruin everything around you even the people!"

Y/n couldn't stop herself from crying as they lost something they never had to begin with. She hated Jennie for everything she had done, the pain felt unbearable at the moment as she clenched her jaw to stop her sobs.

"I could never be with someone like you." She shoved the woman one last time who broke down fully. That was the final push for Jennie, to hear that she never would have had a chance with Y/n.

The homes they had found in each other had been destroyed before they even stepped inside.

Y/n walked down the stairs, ignoring the sounds of things breaking as there was nothing else to stay behind for. Whatever Jennie did now wouldn't matter to her as she slipped on a pair of slippers that lay by the door while taking out her phone. Y/n stepped out into the L.A. sun, the wound on her lip stinging from the heat that hit it and she called her only sanctuary while crying.

"Hello?"

"I need you to pick me up, please, I will send you the address."

"Of course, I'm driving right now."

She hung up as she walked along the long driveway of the mansion while sending her location. She received a confirmation that it would be five minutes as they were nearby.

Y/n tried to calm down, to not sob or cry harder as she wasn't supposed to cry over someone like Jennie. Jennie wasn't worth her tears, yet Jennie was able to make her heart turn into withering flowers that turned black with its petals crumbling into nothing more than dust. The girl was unsure if she regretted meeting Jennie at all or if she was happy that she had met the woman. Every thought was about Jennie when she stopped right by the tall black gates and leaned against the pedestrian gate as she could hear people right outside.

She took deep breaths, already working on forgetting the woman who made her life better and simultaneously ruined it. She tried to forget all those highs and the lows that Jennie held her through even if she caused them. It made Y/n bite down on the side of her hand to stop the sobs that wanted to leave her mouth. It hurt that Jennie had done so much good, but also so much bad, that she was possibly a good person under all the hurt she carried and caused.

Everything seemed to be a reminder of her.

Although Y/n couldn't stay despite loving the pain and wanting to drown in all the good she brought her. She had learned to love the pain and thought she would never want to live without it, but this was too much even for her.

She looked at her phone which went off after a while to see that the car was waiting.

The gate buzzed as she pressed the button that was on the inside and she pushed down the handle and opened the door. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with Y/n who tried to cover her face after realising that photos were being taken–lost in a daze of emotions–as she walked past the paparazzi. She picked up her pace on the last few feet to the car and quickly opened the door before getting inside, still holding the leather jacket up until the car started to move.

"Jennie?"

"Yes." It was a void whisper.

"I thought it was once and you blocked her after."

She shook her head while wiping at her tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

And so Y/n went on, telling Lisa everything that had been happening behind everyone's backs for the past five months. At last, letting all her burdens show as she unpacked the heavy bag she had been dragging along with her. She couldn’t carry it all by herself anymore.

[Four months ago]

Y/n couldn't bring herself to face Asher the day after.

The comedown and hungover were only making it worse.

She found herself in Lisa's apartment, bringing all her guilt, shame, and pain with her as she was crying in her best friend's arms. The tears didn't want to stop and she couldn't stop thinking about her actions.

The way it came so easily, how she cheated without a second thought and it was killing her that she had hurt someone who she loved so much. She loved him so much and couldn't comprehend what still made it possible to cheat without any second thoughts during the moment.

"What happened?" Lisa asked as the girl had come in the morning still in her pyjamas while looking like she had just lost someone dear to her. It was exactly what it felt like. Her mistake felt like she had lost someone dear to her. She had lost a part of herself when she chose to be selfish and relish in pleasure from lust instead of faithfulness from love.

"I– I cheated on Ash." She barely managed to say through her sobs and the words brought her through even more spreading pain. It was like being dragged through a road filled with broken glass and needles.

"When? Y/n, please calm down." She knew that it was wrong, but it was her best friend and she'd do anything for the girl. She would even keep her biggest and dirtiest secrets even if she was friends with her boyfriend too. Lisa could never hurt the girl, so she settled on hurting the man because she had known Y/n all her life.

"Last night–" She clutched onto Lisa's shirt, hating herself for crying when she had no right to cry for what she did. The vixen knew that she had sinned and deserved no solace for these mistakes, the acts of letting herself get swallowed by the sin of lust. "I was drunk and high on ecstasy and Jennie was there and...it happened and then it was over and I knew what I had done."

Lisa couldn't say anything, it wasn't her relationship, but Y/n's. She instead provided her with a place to cry in as she held Y/n and let her confess her sins while she listened, but she couldn't give her the forgiveness that she wanted. Only Asher could give her that.

"Are you going to tell him?" Y/n asked at last as she pulled away. Lisa held onto her shoulder, looking into the red and tear-filled siren eyes of her friend. "Only if you want me to, Y/n." She would only do what Y/n needed her help with.

"Keep it a secret." She mumbled and looked down at the shame she felt of not having the guts to tell the truth while having the guts to cheat. She didn't have the guts to earn up to her mistakes all while being able to do them.

"Any day. I'm your best friend, always."

[Present]

"Don't touch me," Jennie finally snapped as she couldn't do it, her body was trembling as the tears came right back to her eyes.

She hadn't left the gated mansion in a week and hadn't let anyone in unless she had called for them. The place hadn't been cleaned and the things she had thrashed to take out her regrets, anger, and frustrations were still in the way of walking.

Even if she wanted to leave, she couldn't bring herself to do it because of how her body was faltering with every step she took and how she was breaking with each thought of the girl. Paparazzi were swarming outside the gates–security hired at the gates–after the woman she had seen in Las Vegas had come forth with allegations of aggravated assault.

Jennie was drowning in the misery that she had caused herself.

Only time could tell who more would come forth now that one person had.

Her team was working full-time while Jennie was fighting herself over Y/n.

She always got out of these things, but now her ego had died when the girl had left her and it no longer mattered how much or little power she had. That power no longer felt good, it no longer mattered how much she had because it suddenly felt like nothing without Y/n right there.

She shoved the woman on her knees in front of her away by her head when she didn't stop undoing her jeans. The blonde woman fell back at the force with a wince.

"What're you doing?"

Y/n hadn't been the reason why anything ended.

She knew that it was all her fault from the start, from the second they met.

Her mind and system were too big of a mess to think about sex when all she could think of was Y/n and the pain she caused the girl and the pain she was feeling herself. The pain she couldn't numb no matter how much she had drunk, smoked, or inhaled, if not swallowed. It all only drained her more and she spent her evenings throwing up the toxins that were killing her.

Maybe that was the point, to just go until she would drop dead because everything else was coming back after Y/n left and made Jennie truly realise where she was in her life. The hellhole she had fixed herself with her own money.

Jennie had never gotten her heart broken.

She couldn't tell if this was it or not, but it felt like the end of the world and as if she would die.

Or maybe she was dying because of the amount of substances in her body.

Her vision was impaired and she started to sob.

"I told you to leave me alone!" She screamed at the woman who hadn't left her alone yet. It seemed to reach her now as she took her stuff and only left the sound of the door to the bedroom slamming closed

She tried to drown it in her favourite things to forget Y/n; sex, drugs, and alcohol. It only made it worse and reminded her of Y/n. It turned out that her favourite thing was Y/n and that doing those things with the girl was what made them so good now. The vixen had ruined what she loved doing before by having her fall for her.

She whined through gritted teeth and ran her palms harshly down her face to try and get rid of these feelings. It wasn't working, nothing was and Y/n didn't seem to be coming back even if Jennie had hope. She got up on her feet, tumbling over them as she took her phone and regained balance once she stumbled onto her knees, landing on the white rug. Jennie shed more tears, unsure of what she had done to herself. Unsure of what Y/n had done to her.

Why was she ruining herself because of someone else? Because the lonely star had left her. It had never happened before, but now it did and she couldn't understand how a girl had her on her knees in her bedroom, sobbing into a rug. Jennie punched at it as her forehead pressed into the rug. The substances were getting the best of her emotions as she had no clue how to cope with all these things she'd never allowed to happen before.

Her hand went numb and her lungs burned from the screaming and crying, it made her slump down fully. She rolled over to her back, the tears running down the corners of her eyes and she looked at her phone. There wasn't a single message from the girl in a whole week and she hadn't gotten a single reply. There was no pride that was in the way, Jennie had thrown her dignity out of the window and had been begging the girl through messages, and multiple declined calls until she got blocked five days ago.

With her lip jutted out she opened her socials and went on an unofficial account because she had been blocked everywhere, not just her number.

Y/n was finishing a chapter, closing one that Jennie didn't want to close as she choked on her sobs, coughing at the spit that she choked on with each sharp inhale from the shuddering of her breaths. Despite the screen blurring every second she managed to find the girl who was gaining followers every day. Jennie knew because she was checking every day. After she left her followers went from 2k to 4k in a week. She had no clue why, but she assumed it was because Y/n got caught by paparazzi when she left and the allegations were revealed just a few hours before she left through that gate without looking back at Jennie.

She sniffled and opened the girl's stories while using her forearm to wipe at her eyes. The blur disappeared for a few seconds and she watched the girl who was living as if it never happened. It wasn't fair. It hurt Jennie even more and her gravest mistake was falling for the girl. The girl didn't have to move on because she never stopped at Jennie's pit stop. She had no clue how Y/n felt for her, she couldn't figure it out, but she knew what the vixen had told her.

She doesn't love him.

She's waiting for him to leave first.

She knows she has to leave him, but can't because she's scared.

Her heart maybe didn't belong to Jennie, but it didn't belong to him either.

Maybe she would have stayed even if she didn't love Jennie if it hadn't been for the guy.

Jennie sobbed as her stomach was twisting in longing for something she wanted to have.

Y/n had worked on her lies, she was living with them after coming up with the excuse that she was leaving the woman's house early in the morning last week because she and Lisa were friends. She and Lisa had crashed there, her friend covering every lie she told. She had stumbled into a wall when they were out and busted her lip while foundation covered the fingertips on her neck.

He believed everything she told him. He always did and would never doubt her.

The lies were eating at her and she wasn't sure what to do as she couldn't unpack it all. Instead, the box stood filled and out of sight for her boyfriend.

She didn't love him anymore, but she couldn't just get up and leave without telling him the truth, she neither could bring herself to tell Asher the truth. So she was stuck with him because she couldn't confess her sins to the only person who could forgive them or at least deserved to hear them even if he wouldn't forgive her.

Each day was spent thinking about Jennie no matter what she was doing or with who she was.

The allegations didn't make the ache any lighter aside from knowing that she got out on time. However, she felt horrible for Jennie, no matter how much she had hurt her and even laid her hands on her. She couldn't get those words out of her head, the images out of her head, the way Jennie broke down and was now going through this with the allegations. The woman had only brought it on herself, but Y/n felt pity for her either way because she had cared about Jennie.

They were portraying her as a monster with shots being fired from each side despite not knowing whether or not these allegations were true. Y/n knew her for more than what they made her to be. She knew Jennie for the good person that she was who made her feel loved and things she hadn't felt the same way with anyone else, but she also knew her for the horrible person that she was and made her feel things no one else had before.

The Jennie who broke her and fixed her because she loved and cared for Y/n.

It didn't matter as she stayed deluded and ignored those bad things because Jennie was still somehow perfect in her eyes. She didn't choose a side between the alleged and the victim though because no one except those two knew the truth. Even if Jennie had hurt her, she hoped that it wasn't true despite deep down possibly knowing what happened. Y/n didn’t want Jennie to prove her more right than she already had.

She shouldn't care, but she did because she still wished good for the woman whom she couldn't let go of or go back to. The woman who ruined her and made her dependent on her. The woman was more addicting than the drugs. She was the drug that put Y/n through the worst withdrawals.

How did she move on from someone she never had but lost?

Jennie's world was crashing, and Y/n's wasn't too far behind as the last standing pieces were burning.

It flashed before her eyes when Jennie threw the bag of coke in front of her when the phone got tossed onto the bed in front of her. Y/n's lips parted in confusion as Asher opened the door to the small wardrobe and she reached for the phone. It was yet another reminder of Jennie when she picked up the phone that was face down.

The chat between her boyfriend and the person only contained one thing and she didn't have to open the video to know what it was. Jennie only had that one video she never deleted and Y/n dropped the phone. She didn't cry at first, instead, she leaned back against the headboard and rubbed at her face–avoiding her healing lip.

She didn't say anything because she didn't deserve to speak up. Instead, she waited for Asher to cuss her out, yell at her, or somehow just react to what she had done. She was waiting for him to let it all out on her.

With a lump in her throat and undeserved tears welling in her eyes, she looked at the man taking out his clothes from the closet, throwing them onto the bed, her clothes falling onto the floor.

Asher cleared his throat. Y/n knew he wouldn't take any anger out on her, that he wouldn't cuss her out and scream at her. It made Y/n hate the man because he didn't do any of the things she deserved or wanted him to do for how she had hurt him.

He looked over at the girl whom he was heartbroken by, the one he still loved, but couldn't look at without seeing someone else. The vixen who he no longer recognized as Y/n but the star that was in the video, getting fucked in the throat on a bathroom floor wasted and high. There hadn't been a single trace of shame in the video, no guilt, no care. It was filled with euphoria, a bliss he had never seen her in until now, he hadn’t been able to cause her such euphoria. He couldn't tell what hurt more.

That this wasn't the woman he used to be connected to.

That there was no guilt, shame, regret, or care in the video.

Or that she had cheated on her.

Or maybe it was that she looked the happiest with someone else.

She wiped her tears before they could fall.

Jennie just kept ruining her life with every step she tried to take away from her–although she knew this was all her fault because she cheated. She wasn't letting Y/n go. The young girl was aware that he would have to get to know the truth at some point or that it would come out some way, but Jennie never had any right to meddle in her relationship. She never had the right to be the one to break the news to Asher, but she did because she was just as selfish as Y/n was.

"Do you even slightly regret it, Y/n?" His voice cracked and it swallowed the girl who looked down at her hands unable to face reality. How was she supposed to look him in the eye?

At some point, she stopped regretting things that felt good.

"I did at first, but it stopped after a while."

He scoffed to himself at how blind he had been by holding onto the girl she was before this, by staying blind and oblivious about how Y/n had changed despite it being obvious. Because he saw her change but pretended. He ignored all the signs and never wanted the truth. He would have been fine not knowing. Asher moved over to the bed and sat down at the edge beside the pile of his clothes as he stared at the floor. It was cracking, the floor beneath him felt like thin ice that cracked away with his trust.

"A while is how long exactly, Y/n?"

"Almost five months."

"It started when and with whom?"

"It's only been Jennie. I went to the party with her and it happened there for the first time."

He couldn't determine whether it was worse that it was just one person for almost five months instead of different people. It only meant that there was a reason for why she stuck to one person. Why did she keep running back to that one person? If she had run there for long enough everything had possibly shifted.

He looked back at the girl whose teary eyes were staring into his. Was she even in love with him still? Was she in love with the woman she had been seeing for the past five months? Was that why she kept running to no one else but Jennie? Hadn't he been enough and Jennie had been there to fill in and be enough for Y/n?

He didn't want to acknowledge the new person who he sat with though. He didn't want to acknowledge the rest of the problems, the drugs, alcohol and parties he had been ignoring while watching the girl ruin herself. He was stuck on the old Y/n and always would be.

"Do you love her?"

Asher's question made it feel like all oxygen disappeared in the world, being thrown into the universe and ultimately getting killed because she couldn't survive outside the layers of the earth. Jennie had become her world in five months and she had forgotten about Asher and her old self.

"It's complicated."

He looked away at that because those words hurt more than the video itself.

Y/n watched as he buried his face in his palms, it was someone who had been important to her, someone she had cared about–someone who she used to love. It broke her to know that she had managed to hurt someone this much. With everything telling her not to do it, she still crawled over the bed and to the guy. The hesitance made it hard to reach out to the guy who was trying to collect his tears.

She had been as horrible as Jennie all this time while trying to justify all her actions in her head.

"I'm sorry Ash I shouldn't have let it go on for as long as it did," those words felt so stupid when they left her mouth. She now understood Jennie better and why she spat out so many lies and words that didn't matter anymore when she was leaving. No one liked being left alone. She should have lied and it would have made him feel better.

Her touch made him shiver as it was still familiar and home. It was just the same skin, but not the same person on the inside. He shrugged her hand off of him because Y/n wasn't his home. She destroyed their home by inviting someone else into it, and by letting someone else intrude multiple times.

"No, you shouldn't have let it happen to begin with but you did–" His tone grew slightly harsher through the pained tears and Y/n sat back as her tears fell to see him this hurt. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting and she could only watch a part of her life get up from the bed they used to share. "Your sorry won't change what has happened Y/n because you don't even seem sorry." She watched how the life they had planned together was leaving her and her biggest fears didn't matter to him anymore. Y/n had to face them alone for what she had done and she knew that it was all her fault.

Those plans of a future together were gone as the guy left her alone, crying in the bedroom.

Y/n still hadn't come back;

Jennie was still dying in her home because of how everything hurt, not knowing what to do about it. She disregarded the mess she was, the way her nose had been bleeding with every inhale of substance. She disregarded the fact that she had barely slept for the past days, how her eyes were red and the circles dark. She disregarded the fain quivering within her bones at how weak she felt.

Jennie found clothes she hadn't trashed or thrown out of her closet and put on a pair of black sweats and a hoodie, fumbling with the sunglasses that she tried to put on using one hand while getting her car keys and phone with the other–her phone was dead when she picked it up. Slipping on a pair of sneakers that lay tossed on the rug after she walked out of the closet.

If Y/n wouldn't come back to her, she would make it to her on her own.

Two weeks.

She had been drinking herself wasted for two weeks and her throat was in pain from how her body was rejecting most of the alcohol she tried to down. It wasn't helping her numb the fact that she had lost a person who meant something to her. Jennie couldn't let it go, she had never gone so far for anyone because no one seemed worth it.

The sunglasses blocked the sun when she opened the door, the air was soothing against her sore body that was still forcing the toxins out of her through every pore. It still made her head pound and her vision filled with white spots at the strong light, the sunglasses doing the bare minimum. Her feet led her to the black Bentley with tinted windows to avoid being seen in this state as she didn't want to look in the mirror for longer than a second.

Jennie could no longer recognise herself, the person Y/n had made her when she left.

She got in the car and started it, making sure to blast the AC to cool of her warm body. There was only one star that was lighting up Jennie's dark world that had never been whole. The world that she had made was so horrible that upon entering most people left a second later because it was hard to breathe when standing in the waste of toxicity she had surrounded her presence with. The gates opened and she drove out, leaving the premises where she had been hiding out of shame for the past two weeks.

Jennie was heaving for breath after she made it up the stairs, using all her leftover energy to make it up as her body was exhausted. Her eyes landed on the few boxes that stood outside the door she had walked through many times before. Now it felt like a greater task to even knock. She hadn't come up with anything to say, her brain was running F1 races in a loop but they all seemed to crash, leaving her with incoherent thoughts.

All those lies she had always perfected seemed too flawed to say now. She wanted to go out of her way and lie for the girl to make it all better because the truth somehow always made it all worse, but so did the lies. Jennie stuttered when she knocked because nothing was good enough to say. She just wanted Y/n to forgive and forget and take her back in. It was stupid to hope because she knew it would never happen, the girl would never fix it for her when she opened and Jennie had no clue what to say.

It smelled of weed and coffee and Jennie had forgotten to check the time, date, and day as her days had been changed. She realised that it was morning, not evening and that she hadn't slept the whole night.

"Please, just talk to me." She begged the girl who looked like she hadn’t stopped crying for a second with eyes tired and her usual perfect posture slumped in despair.

Y/n looked at the woman who made her insides twist with hatred and adoration. She looked a mess as she pushed the sunglasses up, revealing her glossed-over eyes and dark circles around them. If possible, Jennie looked thinner and her voice was barely there. She looked back over her shoulder at the footsteps and the older woman looked past to see Lisa who walked out of the bedroom confused. It went silent for a few seconds.

Lisa gave a questioning look; wanting to know what Y/n was going to do.

"I will be just outside." She mumbled and Jennie stepped back, her heart increasing as Y/n stepped out of the apartment and closed the door after her.

"There's a reason as to why I am trying to get you out of my life, Jennie."

"But–"

"I don't like you, Jennie," this time the vixen was the one spitting out lies to make it easier for herself even if it was heavy on her heart. She couldn't do it any other way though. The tears were welling in her eyes because Jennie had that effect on her. Y/n couldn’t do this for much longer, it had torn her body enough and soon nothing would be left. This was for her good and it should have been this way from the start, but amidst it all Jennie felt like the best thing for her until now.

Jennie knew how to break her down, how to fix her, how to hold her.

She knew how to make her cry, how to make her feel, how to bring her to heaven and then hell.

Jennie knew how to bring her everywhere.

She shook her head, her lips parting at the words she knew weren't true. The feline could see in Y/n's eyes that she was lying, that she was denying the truth of it all. Jennie was the one who said she would always stay, but now she was the one being pushed away. Y/n didn't like being alone, but Jennie was there to take those fears away even if the girl was lying. She wasn't going to let it define her, her lies, she didn't care about them. All she cared about was getting back something she never had to finally have it.

"Why would you send him the video?" Her breath hitched as she was reminded of how everything had ended for her too. She shoved the hand off of her when Jennie tried to reach for her. Y/n had become fully aware of how toxic Jennie’s touch was and how easily she would become poisoned by it if she let this go on for too long.

"You know why." She enunciated because they both knew why she sent that video. They both knew what Y/n had confessed to her in that car and Jennie helped her do what she was so scared of doing. She had freed her of these chains—at least she thought she had done, but it didn't seem to be the case.

"You're a selfish fucking asshole, that's what I know. I never needed you to do anything, Jennie–" Y/n scoffed, the tears falling at the thoughts coursing through her mind. The thoughts of never meeting Jennie and none of this happening. The thoughts of never seeing Jennie again after meeting her all these times and falling so deeply into her crushed world that she tried to sort out, but never could. "I never needed you in my life to begin with and you still came in between us." She bellowed, emitting words with hatred–hatred Jennie knew she had for her, hatred Jennie had for herself, but that wasn't the only thing Y/n felt for her.

"You're denying it because you didn't want to lose him, but now you have. You know that I can give you so much more than he would ever be able to." Jennie raised her voice, her tone abrasive from how sore her throat was. Her voice echoed through the stairwells of the apartment building, it boomed through their bodies as she clenched her fists and jaw after. She was doing everything to tough up, but her insides were turning to dust and she wanted nothing more than Y/n’s comfort.

"I already told you the first time we met that I don't care about your money and status," she knew what Jennie meant, but she wasn't going to acknowledge the truth. It was easier to defy it and use something she didn't want instead.

"It's not about money, I can love you right, care for you, give you the world and not in a material way. I can give you what you need and you know it! You know what you feel for me and that he was in the way of it because you were scared."

Her tears ran down her face, they stung her skin as they had turned into something acidic. Her eyes were bleeding tears, they didn't want to stop when she saw Y/n. To see the girl she was slowly losing more and more with each second made her try and hold back her sobs at how real her loss was becoming to her. Y/n wasn’t faltering, she wasn’t seeing what Jennie was, and she wasn’t giving in.

"You say that you love me yet hurt me and excuse it as something out of control. Is that what you think I need? For someone to fucking drain me in different ways? I don't feel anything for you except hatred."

"That's not true! Please understand me for once. You said yourself that you wanted him to break up with you, to have a reason to leave you and now he did. You weren't just being selfish but hurting yourself, Y/n—" She felt helpless as she started to sob because nothing she said worked or changed the girl's mind. Jennie was slowly giving up, she was close to getting on her knees and begging her if she would just let her.

Y/n didn't get to move, but flinch when Jennie's frail body forced itself onto her lithe one and she hugged around her waist. It made Y/n's back crash into the door and she whimpered at the discomfort of still feeling warmth bubble in her at Jennie's coaxing touch. It was still comforting and the home she wanted it to be. She felt so horrible for Jennie and the state that she was in, she felt guilty, but she knew that she shouldn’t be. It was almost enough to make her give in.

"I didn't want to hurt you in any way, everything I have ever done to you was because I wanted to do the best for you. It was selfish, but can't you see that I am willing to go out of my way to love you? Give me a chance, I swear I will work on myself and love you like you should be loved, Y/n. Please, I beg you." Jennie's whole body shook as she cried on Y/n's shoulder, taking in the sweet floral scent that she wanted to drown in. The scent she would use on her sheets just to feel content when she wasn't with the girl. It made her feel warmth and hope, it made her feel whole for even just a second.

Jennie loved her, she loved her too much. She loved her enough to hurt her just to keep her.

Y/n gripped Jennie's shoulders and pulled her away from her because this was bad for both of them no matter how much they wanted each other. They weren’t what they needed, not then, not now, and not ever. They were never supposed to meet, to begin with and it had all just been an unfortunate tragedy that they did.

"You should've worked on yourself before you decided to get involved with someone and fall in love." Y/n was starting to find it pathetic, yet heartbreaking as she felt terrible for pushing Jennie away because she could see how her soul shattered like glass just through Jennie’s teary eyes. Y/n’s feelings were just too complicated for her to be with anyone at the moment, especially someone like Jennie. "I don't have time for you, Jen–I have to pack. Leave." Jennie tried to grasp at Y/n's sweater but got her hands diverted away from her.

"Where're you going?" She choked out, pushing past the lump of stones in her throat as they were cutting through it, slowly killing her.

"Back to Chicago."

"What? What– What about your school and everything, you can't just leave–" Now her world was close to an end when she got to hear that the girl wasn't just leaving her, but also the city of angels. She was going far, far from Jennie and it was making her even more sceptical about even seeing her ever again. It was destroying Jennie as she felt her stomach twist, her heart getting cut through with dull knives, making the process much more painful from how slowly it was being torn.

"Taking a break, but you need to leave now Jennie. I don't want to see you anymore. Please, get yourself together because neither of us deserves this."

She didn't get to say another word to the girl. Jennie didn't get to hold her, kiss her, or tell her any sweet words before she saw Y/n for the last time before she closed the door on her.

That was the last she got to see of her.

That was the last of the light she got in her dark world before it finally shattered and there was nothing left but a void.

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @badaspookie @xszn @badasgff @hwm1hyun @herwhcre @lilacura @naycore @dreamingst99 / taglist is open

masterlist

95 notes · View notes

headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.

Word count: 5,5K

Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).

Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3

masterlist

“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”

Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.

While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.

She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.

Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.

“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.

“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.

The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.

“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”

Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.

Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.

Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.

“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”

Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”

He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.

When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.

“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.

As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.

“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.

Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.

You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.

“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”

You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”

You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.

You loved to tease him with it.

“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.

“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.

“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.

Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.

“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”

“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”

“Two glasses?”

“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.

You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.

You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.

She was your entire world.

Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?

After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.

You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.

Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.

You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.

You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.

Scrooge.

She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.

And again, and again, and again.

Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.

Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She’d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.

“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.

She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.

Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.

It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.

You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.

“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.

Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.

When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.

“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.

“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”

You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.

You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.

“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.

“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.

You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”

“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”

He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.

“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”

His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.

Roleplaying wasn’t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.

“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”

“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.

He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.

Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.

You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.

She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.

Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.

The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.

She loved him, but he was not her father.

Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.

Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.

You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.

You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.

You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.

“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.

He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.

His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.

Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.

He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.

“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.

The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.

The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.

Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.

Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.

“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.

Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.

She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.

She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.

The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.

And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.

She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.

Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.

“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.

“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”

She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.

“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.

“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.

“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.

“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.

It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”

You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.

Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.

He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.

“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.

Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.

“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”

You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”

“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.

“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”

You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.

“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”

Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.

“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”

She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”

“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.

To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.

“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”

You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”

She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.

And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”

Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.

Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”

“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”

“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”

“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.

“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.

“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.

You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.

In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.

You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.

940 notes · View notes