back-burner | 06
you were a fire, and you burnt anything that came in your way
PAIRING. min yoongi x reader
GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, frenemies?to lovers! au, angst, *slow burn*, eventual smut, eventual fluff
WARNINGS. sexual harassment, alcohol as a coping mechanism (she gets drunk), anger ... simmering, something ... more?, *feelings*, again: ANGST!!!!
You hated alcohol.
It was funny, wasn't it? You hated it, yet you're here, throat on fire and it's searing. The burn that runs down your throat is severely unpleasant, and anytime it slips past your oesophagus and into your stomach—you feel bits of yourself get stripped away; both literally and figuratively.
The haziness is all that you feel and everything is a blur. It’s unnervingly terrifying when you lose the sense of your surroundings and self when all you are in the liquid courage that you consume. People turn into walls and sounds turn into suffocation—everything felt all too heightened and not there at all.
Nothing made sense when you were drunk—maybe that’s why your thoughts barely contain themselves. Your body feels heavy. Like it wasn’t your own—was it ever? Or were you simply living in a vessel that was given to you from birth? You didn’t choose this body—this life—to exist. You were thrown into the real world with tears, and soon you learnt that the world was meant to tear you apart.
The peach soju tastes sweet against your tongue, but you know it’s foreshadowing your potential demise. You were intimate with the aftereffects of downing soju like it was water—it was dangerous. You suppose the sweetness was what you chased for, to cover the bitterness of reality.
The bar you’re at is new. To you, at least. Your bartender tells you it’s been a while since it was established—you don’t ask him to elaborate. A ‘while’ could’ve been a decade. A ‘while’ was also how long you’ve gone without thinking about—
A ‘while’ was ‘now’.
“Fuck,” you hiss, wincing at the hammering between your temples. Your forehead drops forward as you cradle your face in your hands.
You should’ve thought twice—thrice, an infinite more amount of times before you came here. You stumbled across this place, it looked quiet enough. Not many people were here, but it looked like a posh place. Rolex’s and AP covers the wrists of men and women alike, and subtle flexes of their wealth cover their tabs.
You were practically an eyesore in a place where so many people were dressed to impress. You were also apparently one of the few people that couldn’t handle their alcohol that well.
The dress you were wearing was also unnecessarily flashy—at least for what you were intending on doing at the bar, anyway. You were here to drink, wallow and drown in your thoughts. But you were dressed rather provocatively, the square neckline exposing most of your collarbones and chest. It’s not boastful, just tantalising.
The hem of your dress is also more than generous with revealing your legs, it reaching just below your butt.
But you were growing tired, and the alcohol has done more than enough to make you want to tap out for the night. You were on the verge of dropping your head, and you scarcely made out your surroundings.
You bring your phone out, squinting your eyes to get the time and note that it’s an ungodly hour. Were you drinking for that long? How did time pass so quickly?
You contemplated hailing a cab, but you remember the last time you took a cab alone after midnight—and you immediately shiver. It was an experience you didn’t want to relive, and you ended up having the driver drop you off six blocks away from your actual apartment because he was making you uncomfortable.
You were drunk, but you still had some form of rationale in you. You didn’t want to bother any of your friends—especially Jungkook, knowing that he’s in the middle of his nursing exams.
You couldn’t contact Yoongi because …
Who would contact their sister’s—
You didn’t even want to think about it.
You nibble on your lips, head pounding before your fingers hover over a chat.
M rly drunk lol
sry to distubr but i need a ride
itsok if u can’t :)
hhhhhhhhhh ppl are weird here :;:(99
“You okay?” A voice slurs and you blink rapidly to make up the blob in front of you.
It’s a man—relatively older than you. Probably in his late thirties. He looks rich. Though, you can’t tell because you barely can make out his face.
“M’fine,” you grunt. “Thanks.”
“Need some company?” he asks, and you hardly pay him any attention when he doesn’t bother waiting for your response to take the empty seat right next to you.
“No,” you slur.
“Why not, sweets? You look lonely,” he says in a sleazy tone, leaning his elbow onto the countertop before he’s shooting you a smirk that you know he thinks is attractive.
“Firstly, don’t call me sweets,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Then, you’re levelling a glare at him through shaky ministrations. “Secondly, haven’t you considered that I wanna be alone right now?”
The man looks undeterred, and you note that the bartender isn’t even in sight so you can’t tell him to get the man away from you. He draws uncomfortably closer, his hand inching closer to your stool as you shift away.
“I can show you a good time,” he winks as you literally gag at his attempts. His face shifts, and there’s a tick to his brow that you can hardly point out with how everything blends together.
“You?” you scoff, looking him up and down with a disgusted expression. “Hard pass.”
He scowls. “Better watch ya’ fucking mouth, sweets.”
“Told you not to call me that, dumbass,” you slur snappishly, “Take a hint.”
The man burns bright red, and you don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol he’s consumed. You know he’s drunk because he’s intolerably close and you smell the familiar scent of whiskey in his breath. He’s large, larger than you but you’re sure he has a tiny dick. His hand reaches out and grabs your thigh as you jump at the sudden contact.
“Don’t be a prude,” he goads, rubbing a circle against your skin as you try to shake him off. But his hands are rough and firm, and you feel so lightheaded that you can’t muster up the strength to push him off.
“Are you that conceited?” you gawk, “Can you really not believe that some women have standards and don’t wanna sleep with you, you fucking weirdo?!”
“You think you’re better than me?” he fumes, “Ya’ just a tight pussy—need me to loosen it up—?”
You throw your drink at his face, your expression absolutely disgusted as he splutters. People stare, but they don’t do anything even when you visibly look uncomfortable. His hand leaves your thigh only to swipe at his eyes, and you think you can make a run for it until he’s grabbing you by your hair.
“What the fuck—?”
“You fucking bitch,” he seethes, “Who do you think you are?”
He yanks your hair towards him as you stumble on your feet as your back smacks into his chest. Your heart is pounding but you can barely make anything out. You can’t feel for your phone so you can’t even call your emergency contact. The man spins you around with his grip still tight against your locks as he levels you with a sinister expression.
“Leave me alone,” you hiss, shoving at his chest.
“You think you can fight me?” he sneers, pulling your hair towards his face as you yelp. He gives you a smile so evil that you gulp, fear threatening your entire body. “I’m gonna have my way with you, sweets—”
“Get your hands off her now.”
You freeze, body locking when the man before you furrows his brows at the source of the new voice.
“And who are you pretty boy?” he snorts.
His grip loosens, and you immediately stumble out of his grasp. Your feet are clumsy, but you come into contact with another firm body, whose hand wraps around your waist to steady you.
Immediately, your body relaxes—but then you realise who it is.
"Get your hands off of her," Yoongi repeats, so low that even you shudder. "Now."
The man before you fumes. “Who the fuck do you think you are—?”
“You laid a hand on her,” Yoongi blinks, eerily calm. “You pay.”
The man visibly stiffens.
“Oh Sungyeon.” The moment those words leave Yoongi’s lips, the man in front of you jaw drops. “This wouldn’t be good for your company. Would it?”
“H-How the fuck—?”
“And your wife,” Yoongi says blandly, “She knows you’re here assaulting young women when she’s six months pregnant?”
“Are you crazy?” the man shrieks, and you’re still horribly confused and dazed.
The grip on your waist never loosens, in fact, it only grows tighter when the alleged Sungyeon, grows livid.
“No. But your father is my colleague so I put a name to the face I've seen from the pictures on his desk,” Yoongi says pointedly. “Now how surprised do you think I felt when I see that his son is nothing like him?”
Yoongi loosens his grip ever so slightly to push you behind him, his frame covering your body as he takes a step towards Sungyeon. Yoongi’s not that tall, but his presence is commanding. He’s in nothing but a t-shirt and sweats with his hair flopping against his forehead, but even then, he’s intimidating.
“If I ever see you lay a hand on her or any woman ever again—” he lowers his voice, eyes boring a menacing glare to the man before him, “I’ll get you fired.”
"Oooh. I'm so scared," the drunken man snorts, scoffing at Yoongi's threat. "You think I give a shit bout' if I have my job or not, asshole? One call and I'm back in, baby."
You want to vomit. Sungyeon is your nightmares personified, and the vile way the words roll of his tongue only tells you that it wasn't his first time getting into situations like these.
Yoongi takes another step forward, one that's definitely more intentional and exponentially more menacing.
Sungyeon looks rather taken aback, likely not expecting Yoongi to not back down.
Yoongi doesn't look scared, not one bit. In fact, he looks angrier. The subtle flare of his nostrils, the clench of his fists and the tightening of his jaw. All subtle movements, but you know Yoongi as the level-headed man that's stolen your heart.
The man in front of you is more man than Yoongi.
"You better thank your graces out there that I'm only threatening your job, Sungyeon," Yoongi snarls, crowding the drunk man as he stumbles backwards in alarm.
"What power do you have?"
"The power of a very pissed off man," Yoongi says.
Your eyes widen, especially when Yoongi's fist raises. You think he's about to swing and your hand reaches out before you can even think.
But you should've known Yoongi better. He'd never stoop that low.
Sungyeon looks scared shitless, and you know it's not because Yoongi could potentially take him down in the fight, but purely because of the unadulterated fury in his eyes.
"Leave before I lose it," he whispers into the man's ear, and only then do you return to reality just a bit to realise that you have a shaky hand on Yoongi's elbow.
Yoongi squeezes Sungyeon's shoulder, nothing too much, but you swear you see the drunk man shudder when he does so.
The drunken man curses, waving Yoongi off even if you knew that his expression revealed how scared shitless he was. The bystanders simply gape at the scene, likely impressed at the way that Yoongi managed to swoop in at impeccable timing and ward the shithead off.
But now that he was gone, and you’re faced with the slope of Yoongi’s back—you’re marginally soberer, but equally as scared shitless. For an entirely different reason.
You feel oddly berated when you stand behind Yoongi, watching the way his back moves rhythmically as if he was taking large breaths. His fists are balled up at his sides, and he doesn’t turn to look at you. His physique is loud, an imposing presence in your wake. You want to speak up but your voice is obsolete. Your head still hurts. Your heart does, too.
“Don’t fucking talk to me right now.”
You wince at his harsh tone. It’s clear that he’s pissed. He doesn’t hide it like he usually does, doesn’t mask in under stoicism or his impressive level-headedness. No. Yoongi is fuming, and he wants you to know. His body language says it all, the way when he turns to finally face you and all you see is fire shows you. You know he’s pissed.
“I said don’t,” he snaps, eyebrows stiff when he walks towards you. Your eyes dart to the ground, but you barely catch the way his eyes linger on your attire before he’s releasing a deep exhale.
He doesn't even look at you when he says: "Or I'll say something I'll regret."
You fiddle with your fingers, an apology on your tongue, but before you can get it out—his palms wrap around your wrist before he’s dragging you out of the bar. The club—whatever the hell this place was.
You squeak when you attempt to keep up with his quick feet as he drags you towards his car. His sleek car is parked rather recklessly by the curb, evidently showing that he was hastily trying to rush against time. He doesn’t release your hand when he unlocks it, and despite the quickness of his actions—you find some air to wonder how Yoongi knew where you were.
And you remember the text you sent Hoseok.
Your eyes widen in alarm. “Yoongi, my phone—”
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you when he opens the passenger door and wordlessly guides you inside. You don’t dare to say anything else—and it hurts even more when he doesn’t even look at you when he drops your phone onto your lap.
You sit as still as a statue, too afraid to do anything else. All the fiery on your tongue is dwindled out, the energy in your body slowly dissipating the more you sit in silence. Yoongi takes a while before he slips into the driver’s seat, and it’s still silent with the exception of the rustling when he adjusts himself.
You take a brief look at your lock screen, and your heart stops in your chest when you see the number of texts and missed calls you received in a rather short period of time.
From: Hobi [02:23AM]
Shit. I’m out of town. Is there anyone else you can contact?
From: Hobi [02:25AM]
Why aren’t you replying me?
Did you get a ride?
Are you okay?
From: Hobi [02:27AM]
I swear to God why aren’t you replying me
I’m calling Yoongi
What the hell are you doing????
[5 missed calls from Hobi]
From: Yoongi [02:30AM]
___. are you there?
I’m on the way.
From: Yoongi [02:31AM]
From: Yoongi [02:32AM]
Are you crazy? What are you doing??? why did you think it was a smart idea to go drinking to a place I sure as hell know you’ve never been before??? ALONE??
[16 missed calls from Yoongi]
You swallow, sensing the urgency and anxiety in the texts. You almost cower at Yoongi’s last message, head dropping to your lap when the car finally pulls out of the sidewalk.
He doesn’t bother turning on the radio like he usually would whenever you were in his car. In fact, he always gave you free rein to pick the songs even if he didn’t particularly like them. Now, it was terse silence. Your dress shifts uncomfortably around your thighs, hiking up whenever you keep moving your legs that you find yourself nervously sweating.
You squeeze your legs together, hoping that’ll mitigate the riding up of your dress—and then a blanket drops onto your lap.
You pause for a split second, eyeing the piece until you realise that Yoongi was the one that dropped it onto your lap.
You look over at him and his jaw is still clenched, eyes on the road while he keeps on hand on the wheel. His brows are furrowed and it’s a reminder that he still doesn’t want you to talk to him. You finger the blanket in between your fingers before you drape it over your thighs, unsure whether to thank him for it or not.
The situation was embarrassing as it is. You were still slightly dazed and overwhelmed with what had happened. Your scalp mildly hurts at how hard the man yanked at it, and you want to massage it just to alleviate the strain but you know that’ll only make Yoongi madder.
You hated it. He was a silent ruminator. The type of person that lets his anger speak through nothingness. The simmer of a burn that’s hotter than the sun but quieter than the night. The complete opposite of you. You spewed out the first thing that came to mind, acted erratically and never thought twice of the repercussions. All you wanted to do was release your rage.
Yoongi unintentionally made people suffer.
You stare out the window, your heart rattling in the chest. You wondered if he was awake when Hoseok called him. What he was doing—who he was with?
You wince, eyes fluttering shut when you unknowingly dug another unpleasant thought into your mind.
The pavements change and streetlights become taller the closer you get, and despite your sluggish state—you note that it’s a familiar enough road, but not to your apartment.
“Do you think I’m gonna leave you alone after seeing what happened tonight?” he snaps.
It’s the first thing he says after a while, and you immediately snap your lips shut. All your ripostes are gone, no retort on your tongue. Yoongi knows this, and the silence is only a reminder of it. He sighs but says nothing more as he pulls up in his apartment complex’s carpark.
He quickly parks in his designated spot, seamlessly within the box before he pulls the handbrake and turns the engine off. He quickly grabs his car keys before stepping out, and you remain seated in place, rather unsure if he was going to get you himself.
Thankfully, he does. He opens the door and waits for you to step out. He averts his eyes out of respect when you tug on your dress to preserve your modesty. Your cheeks are blazing, both because of the aftereffects of the soju you drank and in embarrassment. Being close to him. Everything.
The two of you walk in silence, Yoongi staying close enough to you to ensure that you didn’t trip and fall, but far enough to tell you that he was—well, angry.
Once you reach his apartment door, he scans his thumbprint and pushes it open, revealing his living room to you. You awkward hover by the entrance, feeling out of place. But Yoongi’s hard glare mobilises you as you duck your head and enter his home.
You’ve been here enough times to know your way around his place. You spent movie nights here, snacking like crazy or just crashing on the couch when it got too late. You know his place intimately.
But it’s different now. It just is. With the knowledge of him and Haerin, the nature of your friendship from the past few months—it’s different. And you don’t know what to do.
Yoongi disappears into his room, and you awkwardly stand by the couch. You feel so stiff, and your head is threatening to give up on you. You almost contemplate just sprawling on his couch and passing out, but even in your drunken state, you know that it isn’t a good idea.
You take out your phone, noticing you’ve got new texts from Hoseok.
Jesus Christ ____ please tell me you’re okay
Yoongi isn’t replying to me
You rub a hand over your face, wincing at how sticky and gross you feel.
You press the call button, and after a few rings—he picks up.
You wince. “Yes, Hobi—I am.”
“Dude. I was worried sick! What happened? I was so close from calling the cops!”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m with Yoongi now.”
“Thank God,” he exhales through the phone, and there’s a brief silence before he speaks up again. “Just thought you should know but—he’s pissed.”
You roll your eyes. “I know. He isn’t talking to me.”
“Can you blame him? What you did was reckless, ____. What were you thinking? What if Yoongi couldn’t make it?”
“Well he did,” you snap, immediately feeling guilty when the other line goes silent. “Sorry. I just—there was this guy and he … yeah.”
“What? Who? I’m gonna kick his ass!”
You laugh softly, plucking at a stray thread from your dress.
“Yoongi dealt with it,” you mumble, “He was just being a douche. Yanked my hair and stuff.”
“Oh, I’m so gonna beat his ass.”
“Thank you, Hobi,” you say softly, “I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m okay. Sorry to worry you.”
He hums. “Please, if you go out next time—let someone know. Or have someone accompany you. Especially to places like that. Imagine my surprise when you sent me your location.”
Your brows furrow. “What? It’s just a random bar.”
He snorts. “No, it’s not. Why do you think Yoongi’s so pissed? It’s not a place for you to be going alone. To drink.”
Just as you’re about to ask him why Yoongi returns with some clothes in his hand and his blank face. But there’s still a hardened expression on his face that you know won’t be going away anytime soon.
“I gotta go,” you say quickly, “Thank you again, Hobi. And I’m sorry.”
He says to not mention it before hanging up on you, and you’re left with a semi stare-down with Yoongi as you eye the clothes in his grasp.
He hands you the clothes in pure silence as you meekly accept them with your hands. You purse your lips, feeling exponentially worse when he doesn’t even look at you as you retreat to his guest bathroom to change.
Yoongi wasn’t talkative, to begin with, but the people that he did talk to—were people that he selectively allowed into his life. It was a silent declaration that he cared enough to engage in a conversation with you.
The fact he’s silent only kills you inside.
You lock the door behind you, taking a deep breath before you take in your expression through the mirror. You grimace at how your mascara was smudged underneath your eyes, the patchy spots on your lips and the way that your skin shines with oil. Your hair’s a mess, mostly due to how hard the man yanked it—making you look a little all over the place.
You sigh to yourself, slipping out of your dress, shivering when the cool air hits your bare skin. You throw on Yoongi’s shirt, nearly melting at his scent mixed with the detergent he uses, as well as the boxer shorts he handed you. You note that there’s nothing in the bathroom to wipe your makeup off with, so you make an effort to scrub at your face with pure water—cringing every time you come across a particularly chalky spot.
You blink at your reflection once you're done, and you look … better. Not good, but enough for you to turn off the tap and turn away. You fold your dress neatly and hold it against your chest before you take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom.
When you do, Yoongi’s sat on his couch, arms folded—with water and some food placed on his coffee table.
He hears the click of the door behind him and turns around. His eyes drift across from your torso, down to your pants—and then to your face. You don’t know what to make of it, but his jaw clicks.
“Your dress and undergarments.”
His voice is gruff, stern—telling you that there’s no room for argument.
You flounder, startled by his voice. “I—uh …”
He raises an unimpressed brow. “What? Do you need me to do it for you?”
He sighs, frowning at you before he levels you with a hardened stare.
"Your dress and undergarments," he repeats. "I'll throw it in the laundry."
You shake your head, pinching the dress between your fingertips as you swallow.
“I just—it’s just the dress …” you say awkwardly, voice barely audible.
Yoongi furrows his brows. “What? Do you think I'm a teenage boy who'll jerk off to a pair of bra and panties?”
You flush harder, ears absolutely burning when you avoid his gaze.
“No, I’m not—I didn’t …” you stutter, eyes darting everywhere. “Well … I didn’t need—?”
“Spit it out,” he deadpans.
“I didn’t wear any,” you blurt, and his eyes widen. Your cheeks are undoubtedly on fire right now. “I didn’t need to … with the dress …?”
You trail off, unsurely, and you see Yoongi’s gaze harden. His eyes linger a second too long on your face, then it drops ever so briefly to below your chin as you gulp. It’s embarrassing enough that you were in this position, but admitting it to Yoongi, who genuinely looks affronted, was just the cherry on top.
"You—" he begins to say, voice tight as you see him take a deep breath to level his temper. You can't bear to look at him, especially when he drags his hand across his face and looks away. “Just your dress, then,” he grunts, gesturing you towards leave your dress in the basket as you mindlessly comply.
Once you do, you awkwardly waddle back to the living room, taking the farthest seat away from Yoongi to pointedly avoid any direct confrontation with him.
You sit on your calves, hands fiddling with your fingers as you avoid his gaze.
“Drink and eat up.”
“Drink and eat up,” he repeats.
You finally look up, and you frown.
“Yoongi, you’re clearly pissed. I’ll just catch a cab home or something—”
“Are you serious?” he blinks, all too calm for someone who looks absolutely livid. “You think I’m going to let you take a cab at 3 a.m. in the morning when you're in the state that you are?”
“I-I just …”
“You think because I’m pissed I’d let you put yourself in danger?” he hisses, and you immediately cower. “You went to a bar where rich men literally go to take advantage of unsuspecting women like you.”
You wince at his blatant words.
“And you do what is possibly the most reckless shit you can do there,” he seethes, “You drink—no—you get drunk—without an actual ride back? Alone? What were you thinking?”
“I know …” you say quietly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to yell at me.”
You sound so … soft. Unsure. It’s unlike you. You have different personas when you’re drunk, and being a much softer version of yourself was one of them. The fact that Yoongi was looking at you like you were the mistake only tugs at your heart even harder.
You can’t see Yoongi’s face, and you don’t want to. You feel mortified, your eyes feeling hot.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“____.” His voice is firm when he calls your name. When you struggle to meet his gaze, his face is firm. A little kinder, but still impassive. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Your lips part, your words get stuck in your throat.
He continues to stare at you, frown etched on his face.
“I … we—I thought you were mad at me. About Hoseok,” you mumble.
Yoongi blinks; gaze unwavering on your fidgety figure.
“So I had to find out that you were at a dangerous place getting wasted from Hoseok?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you—”
“Didn’t you consider that it would’ve disturbed me a hell of a lot more if something happened to you and I couldn’t do anything?” he snaps.
You look at your lap.
“And you decided to take a chance with Hoseok? What if something happened? What if Hoseok didn’t have the sense to call me? What if I didn’t get here on time? What would’ve fucking happened?” he snaps, suddenly standing up from his seat as your eyes widen.
He plops down next to you, hand reaching out to grab at your wrist. You stare at the place where your skin meets, and you gulp.
“Look at me.”
“I’m sorry,” you say softly.
“I don’t care if you think I’m pissed or you or if you’re pissed at me,” he whispers, “You call me when you need me. I’ll get you.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, softer.
“No matter how angry I am at you I’d never leave you in danger, you get that?” he says harshly, but it’s juxtaposed with his desperate tone. His fingers squeeze around your wrist as you feel the heat from his fingertips. “I’d be angrier with myself if anything happened to you.”
Your lips wobble, and you’re appalled when you feel the tears pool at your waterline. Yoongi catches the glassiness of your eyes, especially when you duck your head to hide your face in the crook of your neck.
“____,” he says gently, hand inching up to hold your chin as you fight against him. “Hey, hey …”
It makes you feel worse. Especially when you feel the first tear slip out of your eyes.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, bringing you into your arms as you suck in the tears as much as you could. You never cried. You never cried in front of anyone—and for Yoongi to see you like this after everything just makes you feel humiliated. Like you were necessarily vulnerable.
“Don’t fight it. You went through something no one should tonight.” He’s referring to the man, and you vividly remember the fear that bubbled in your stomach.
What if Yoongi didn’t turn up? Where would you be? Would you be crying for a different reason?
“S-Sorry for—waking you up,” you mumble, shaking all thoughts away. You already showed too much.
“Stop apologising,” he snaps as your lips snap shut. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Thank you,” you say quietly. “For—for …”
You struggle to find your words, but Yoongi just holds you tighter to his chest. Your tears stain his t-shirt, dampening the fabric but you can’t think straight to rationalise anything. You were tired, eyes straining to keep open as your limbs mindlessly hang by your side. You can’t bring yourself to wrap your arms around him—it feels so far away. Like he was here but he actually wasn’t.
“You okay?” he murmurs, hand brushing over your hair gently. He doesn’t push you to say anything you can’t. You’re thankful. You relax into his hold.
“My scalp hurts,” you mumble.
“M’ gonna fucking kill him,” he grits.
“You scared him off,” you say quietly.
He laughs, a quiet sound before he shakes his head. He pulls away to wipe under your eyes. His face still looks rather tense, but the way he’s treating you is irrevocably tender. It makes your heart yearn, grow ten times more. But it wasn’t your position to feel this way.
He was being there for you as a friend.
“You think that's enough?” he asks. “He deserves more than me just scaring the shit out of him for laying his grubby hands on you.”
“Don’t do that,” you frown.
“He hurt you,” he says, blank-faced.
Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face as you nearly double over at the sudden touch. His palms are large against your cheeks. They’re warm, too. You immediately melt into his touch, finding the way his fingers brush over your cheekbone a comforting feeling.
“I’m not going to let anyone get away with hurting you."
The atmosphere grows—quiet. A reflective moment while you gape at him. His eyes rest on your face and you see the pores on his face. For once, you’re close enough that you see the worry lines. The bags under his eyes that possibly carry more than just the weight of his concerns. It’s a part of Yoongi he never reveals, but you wish to know. You wish to be there for.
Suddenly, your eyes flicker to his lips before you can think twice. He notices. Your mind is still relatively hazy, but your heart feels so impulsive.
"Yoongi ..." you whisper, and your voice is so soft that you think he barely catches it.
"Hm?" He brushes a hair out of your face and you melt. Your heart can't take it. This.
His eyes drop to your lips too, and it’s warmer. You continue to ogle, and you feel Yoongi shift in his seat. It’s a similar look to that night at the gala—when he dragged you away from your eyes and levelled you with his gaze.
You wonder if he’ll—
His phone rings.
He jumps away, blinks his eyes as you shift backwards too. Your cheeks are flushed red, and you barely catch Yoongi scrambling for his phone. You catch the name on his phone, and it’s like you’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water.
“Hello?” His voice is hoarse, and you have to avert your eyes from him when he runs a hand through his hair.
“She’s okay. She’s with me,” he explains, and you know he’s speaking about you. “Yeah. I’ll deal with it. I’ll tell her.”
The call ends relatively quickly, and it’s a reality check on who you were.
No matter how much you tried, how much you wished—you’d never be Haerin. No matter how much danger you were in, he’d see you as you. Not Haerin. Not the person he thought was enough to give dating a shot.
You feel all the more tired, and you push yourself off his couch before clearing your throat.
“Haerin says she hopes you’re okay, and if you need to talk then you can call her,” he says, slowly. Yoongi’s never awkward. He always manages to catch himself in any situation and you hated it.
“Right,” you nod your head, averting your gaze. You offer a tense smile before you shift on the balls of your heels. “I’ll just …”
“Take my bed,” he says, “The guest room’s a mess.”
You stand up, brushing your hands over hos boxers that you were wearing as you clear your throat, cheeks aflame at your previous position.
Just as you were about to turn your back, his hand captures your wrist.
His fingers are tight as if he wanted you to stay. But you doubted it. It was just wishful thinking, especially when your eyes peer up to meet his own.
"Take the food and drink," he says after a beat of the silence of just the two of you staring at each other—awaiting the other to make the first move. "Please."
You don’t argue, you simply nod and make your way into his room with the water and food he prepared you—ignoring the way his stare remains on the side of your face.
When you slip into his sheets, you’re washed over with his overwhelming scent and you feel like you’ve never moved. You’re back in square one, your heart is still tired and so is your mind.
You go to sleep with the vivid memory of Yoongi’s eyes darting to your lips, hands on your cheek.
But only the ring of Haerin's call sounds clear in your world.
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AN: Fair warning, this story takes place in 2020, but for the sake of the storyline I have made to where Covid never happened. Now I am aware that this topic is a huge one, which is why I want to remind all of you to be safe out there!
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: Fluff and some angst
Word Count: 4.2k
Screams of joy quickly filled the room as soon as the pastor said the infamous words, You may now kiss the bride. There they were, two kids from the outskirts of manhattan, saying their I do’s and finalising their committed love to each other.
The beginning of the day was messy and rushed, fear laced in the air as no one knew how the day would play out. Leave it up to Daniel to be late to his own wedding, forty-five minutes to be exact, so instead of him waiting down at the end of the aisle for Zoey to walk down, she was the one waiting on him.
You had met Zoey your freshman year of college when you two first became roommates. During that time you thought she was too chirpy and loud, but soon come to realise that she would become a huge factor in your life, six years later.
Daniel came into the picture three years ago, they had met in the most cliche way possible, at a rollerskating rink. She didn’t want to spend her twenty-first birthday in the typical bar scene, Zoey wasn’t like that, she quite literally despised alcohol.
The moment they said I do, tears slowly formed at the bridges of your eyes. Part of it was because of how happy you are for her, how ecstatic for her to start this new chapter in her life. But the other part, the more selfish one, wanted her all to yourself. You wanted it to be you, her, and Cadence for the rest of your lives. However, Zoey did inform you that no matter what it was you and her against the world, you just added a few more souls to it.
Later that night when everyone was sitting around the room eating their food, you found it the perfect time to say your speech. The same speech you rewrote ten different times because it just wasn’t good enough. So, like in the movies, you stood up with a spoon in one hand and your glass of sparkling cyder in the other, and slowly clanked the two together gathering everyone’s undivided attention.
“Hello everyone.” As all eyes turned your way, you had to clear your throat a little with how intimidating this is. They never tell you how nerve-racking it is to give a speech in the movies. “As some of you may know, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, the bridesmaid and unfortunately one of Zoey’s only friends.” Laughs erupted through the room, considering everyone knew how anti-social Zoey actually is.
“I just wanted to start off by saying first and foremost, a huge thank you to everyone who came and made this day as magical and mesmerising for our lovely couple over here. Ever since the day Zoey and Danny met, it’s been a nonstop rollercoaster of emotions, but in the best way possible. I still remember the time Zoey told me she thought she was in love with him, it was just two days after our lives changed drastically. She came up to me and was like, “I never knew I could hold this much love for someone, but here I am. I think I love Danny and that scares the shit out of me.”
“She was full of nerves for a whole week after that. But one day she came home smiling like an idiot claiming that he loved her too, the rest is history. Zoe, as much as I tease you about your quote unquote, school girl crush, I couldn’t possibly explain how happy I am for you and Daniel. I just hope he treats you the way you treat literally everyone in your life. And these past two and a half years have been a huge adjustment for me, and I just want to thank the both of you for never letting me go through it alone. I love you guys. To Zoey and Daniel!”
Cheers broke out and champagne glasses echoed, Zoey stood up and pulled you into a huge bear hug, explaining over and over how much you mean to her. By this point in the night, it would’ve been the second time you cried, had you not felt the small tug at the bottom of your dress.
There on the chair beside you sat the most beautiful girl in the room, Cadence Y/L/N. She was buckled onto a small booster seat that was sat on the chair, a slight frown taking over her face as there was no more food on her plate.
You had Cadence two and a half years ago, when you were twenty-two, hence the sentence in your speech. Her father abandoned you the second he found out about the pregnancy, typical college boys. They aren’t ready to become fathers so instead they leave, but you were never going to give up the chance to give your baby the live they deserved. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but if you could go back and do it all over again, you would in a heartbeat. However, you would do a couple thing totally differently.
“Mommy, I want up.” She had pouted out, with only being nearly three, she really knew how to speak. As if you could ever say no to her and her little pouts, you unbuckled her booster and lifted her on your hip. Zoey smiled as she gave Cadence a soft kiss to the head before announcing that she was going to talk to some family members. “What’s up, babe? How was your dinner?”
Cadence smiled, holding up her thumbs in the cutest way possible. That is until she whispered in your ear, “Mommy I have to go potty.” Cadence was never shy, but she did hate having her business out in public, and even though she isn’t fully potty trained yet, you love the fact that she’s telling you when she needs to go. Because you know that there will come a day that she won’t need to depend on you anymore, she will have her own life. That’s a thought you never wanted to wrap your head around.
Having made your way to the bathroom, you helped Cadence hold her dress up as she did her business. She really was the cutest flower girl you have ever seen, plus Zoey’s mom did an outstanding job with putting flowers in her long and blonde braided hair. A true princess, she was.
“Okay mommy, I’m done. Can we wash the yuckies away now?” Her doe-like eyes looked up at you, and sometimes you forget that she is only two, and the fact that she’s yours. All yours. No one else’s. “Yes baby, let’s pull up your big girl undies real quick, okay?” And having expected it to come, your daughter replied with, “I’m a big girl now mommy!”
She still couldn’t properly pronounce her R’s yet, but the daycare she’s in is working on it. Turning the water to a lukewarm temperature, you lifted Cadence up to the sink where she would get her soap and wash the yuckies away.
When she was done washing her hands, you set her down and both made your way back out to the party hand in hand. Everyone was dancing now, Zoey was with a few of her aunts and Daniel was probably out on the balcony having a smoke. “Hey Liz, can you watch Cady for a few minutes? I need a breather.”
Elizabeth Walters, the mother of now, Zoey Green. Liz loved both you and Cadence, basically adopting you the second you set foot into her luxurious house. You knew Zoey came from a long line of money, but seeing it so up close and personal felt like a dream.
“Of course, love. You know I could never say no to the cute little face.” Liz squished the cheeks of your daughter before grabbing her hand and leading them both away from you. Undoubtedly going towards the desert table where Cadence has been eyeing all night.
As soon as Cady was in the safe hands of Liz, you made your way out to the balcony where low and behold, Daniel was sitting and admiring the view. “Hey you, shouldn’t you be with your wife?” You spoke up, Daniel was surely intimidated by you at first, having been his girlfriend's best friend, he wanted your approval. Though after a few months you both warmed up to each other and are now as close as ever. “Yeah, just needed a bit of a break is all.”
Daniel led his right hand over to you, where he was silently asking if you wanted a hit from his cigarette, which you gratefully obliged. “Everything okay?” You looked at him, eyeing the side of his face while the smoke you just inhaled settled it’s way down your throat.
“I just can’t believe I’m married, Lace I’m married!” Lace was a nickname he came up with the day he found you dancing around your apartment in nothing but your lace bra and underwear. To be fair, he was looking for Zoey and you happened to be cleaning the house while singing to Avril Lavinge’s, Skater Boi.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? I mean one minute you’re planning your whole future then you blink once and it turns out you are now living it.” Daniel laughed, giving him back his cigarette, you placed your arms on the balcony edge. “I love her so fucking much that my heart physically hurts, I just don’t want to mess it all up. I mean what if, in five years she doesn’t want me anymore? I will be torn.”
“Danny, you know you can’t get into your head about this kind of stuff. Zoey loves you, I’ve known it since the day we met. The way she would talk about you, her eyes would light up and a huge smile would appear on her face. She adores you, man. And I know I don’t say it much, but I am so grateful for all you do. You brought my Zoey back, the carefree and adventurous Zoey I knew before her dad died. I love you, Zoey loves you, and Cadence definitely loves you. Seriously dude, what did you do to her to get her to love you more than me?”
It was nights like these where you would feel closest to Daniel, nights where you fully take in how much he has done for you and your best friend. Daniel put out the cigarette in his hand and turned your way, “I’m just cooler than you, remember? I got a shirt that says cool uncle for a reason.” And like nothing happened before, the both of you were back to joking and laughing. “Alright, now if you don’t mind me, I have got a wife to get back to.”
You sent him a smile before following him back inside to go find your girl.
When you finally found her, she was dancing with Liz and her boyfriend Arttie, some evidence of chocolate on the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sorry about that. I can take her now.” You picked Cadence up and sat her on your hip, kissing all over her face before she let out a mommy stop!
Liz was adoringly looking at the interaction, clearly not understanding why you thought you were failing as a mother. “Nonsense love, she was an angel as always. You love hanging out with grandma Liz, don’t ya little one?” Her attention now turned to the two year old who gave her a huge smile and a nod that matches said smile. “I just feel bad for putting her off on you for something as stupid this. I usually don’t do it, but I needed to speak to Daniel anyway.”
Your mom was never really in your life when it came to moving out and onto college. You grew up in a small and messed up town in Pennsylvania, your mother was an alcoholic and your father was, well he’s a story for another day. “Y/n, I can assure you that everything is fine, I love having you guys around and if that means watching your daughter while you go have a smoke, then so be it.”
Instead of saying anything, you leaned in and gave Liz a hug that Cadence found her way into, still on your hip. The position was awkward but the gesture itself was one full of love. “Mommy, it’s our song! Dance with me please?”
And as if your heart couldn’t get anymore full when We Fell in Love in October came on, it swarmed with warmth at Cadence’s words. “Of course, baby. You are my girl aren't you?” The giggle Cadence let out was one of the utmost amazing sounds you have ever heard, you could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your life. “Yes mommy, your girl.”
With that, you led yourself and Cadence to the dance floor and started dancing around, not having a care in the world if you looked ridiculous. Right now, at this moment, it was you and your daughter. That is all you needed. Smiles took over your faces, and only widened when you saw a camera on your dancing figures.
“Smile for the camera, baby!” And she did, you both looked at the camera, waves, and smiled all while still dancing to the beat of the moment.
When the music slowed to an end, you and Cadence continued dancing for a few more songs before she announced that she was tired. So again, you picked her up and let her slowly fall asleep on your chest. Even though Cadence wouldn’t remember this day when she grows up, you will always remember every second of it.
“You look like you could use a drink, but that little munch there kind of prevents that doesn’t it?” It had been an hour and you were sitting at your table with a sleeping baby attached to you. When the voice was heard behind you, you kind of struggled to turn your head but the man made it easier when he moved to stand in front of you.
“I would if I drank. It’s not really my thing, ya know?” He was attractive, short brown hair and emerald green eyes, but was he really your type? Probably not, you went for guys with longer hair, but you couldn’t deny the natural beauty of him. “‘S understandable love, this seat taken? Do you mind if I sit?”
His accent was more than endearing, entrancing even, though he sounded fairly familiar. “No of course not, it’s all yours. I’m Y/n, I would shake your hand but I’m a little occupied.” You introduced yourself, laughing out as you pointed at the sleeping baby in your arms. He laughed along with you, and had you had a drink in your mouth, it would be all over the front of you at the sound. It was perfect.
“’M Harry. She’s a peaceful sleeper, that one. Are you just watching her?” This was the moment that you would say she is actually your daughter and he would run for the hills. So you gave a fake smile and a sigh, “Something like that, she’s mine.”
As you expected, his eyes widened in shock. You look so young? But he wasn’t about to judge you. “Seriously? That’s awesome, I hope you don’t take this as offensive, but I thought she was just your little sister.” However, that was not expected, him to stay, but you had time. “You flatter me, Harry. I had her young, a little younger than I would’ve hoped, but now that I have, I’m over the moon. She’s the most perfect baby. Sorry I’m rambling.” You stopped yourself before things got too weird.
Instead you opted to play with Cadence’s hair that was now out of the brain and drained of the flowers. You loved playing with her hair, in fact you loved all physical contact with her, cuddling at night was a definite must. “Never apologize for talking about the things you love. Or I guess in this case, the people you love. I find it charming that you talk about her, it goes to show how much you love her.”
When you looked back up at Harry you found his eyes already on yours, a soft smile playing at his face. And even though you hadn’t meant to do it, a slight heat rose to your cheeks. No one, more precisely no guy, has ever said that to you. “I do. I love her so much.”
“You know, I heard your speech earlier, it was really sweet. I’m guessing you and Zoey are close then?” Cadence starts rolling around on your chest before getting comfortable again this time her head layed on your left shoulder, facing the side of your neck, her soft breaths fanning over you. “Closer than ever, really. She was there for me when I wasn’t even there for myself. Could never repay her. What about you, who are you here for?”
“Daniel, we’ve been mates since we were sixteen almost. Met on a show I was filming.” A show? That’s a change for people you usually talk to. “So you’re an actor then?”
A smirk played at his lips, his fingers playing with his bottom lip. “Something like that, I’m a singer, but I have filmed a movie or two.” He spoke, replying back what you said to him. To say it shocked you was the understatement of the year. You hadn’t even been to an actual concert in your life, let alone met someone famous. Wait, was he famous?
“That’s crazy, anything I would know?” Genuinely curious, you eye his movements. He now had his left arm on the table while the right was hanging off of the table while he played with his rings. You hadn’t even seen the rings that were splayed on almost every finger, you had to say, it was incredibly hot. A bonus, his nails were painted a dark shade of blue.
He must’ve noticed your staring because a laugh soon erupted from his throat and had another smirk. “I don’t know, have you heard of White Eskimo?” His question was simple, though you still looked as confused as a kite flying in the air. You didn’t want to offend him, but you also knew you couldn’t lie to him. “No, I can’t say I have. It’s a band?”
“Not anymore, thank god. I am so embarrassed looking back on old videos, my voice was so small and my young, naive self had no clue what the world had in store for me. One Direction, have you heard of them?” Harry’s smirk was replaced by actual curiosity, the name sounded familiar but you’d never listened to any of their music. “You see, the look on your face says that you do. But that’s also not a band anymore, we all went solo. I wouldn’t know if you knew any of my music. And not to be cocky but I should throw it out there that I have appeared on the radio more times than I can count.”
The night was just getting weirder by the second, why was someone who has been on the radio talking to you? Out of all the girls in this room, he chose the one with a baby. You love Cadence more than you love yourself, you would take her over any other love for the rest of your life, it’s just weird when talking to people. “I’ve heard of the band, a few times I think. But I have never listened to your music.”
Harry lifted his hand to rest over his heart, “You’ve wounded me.” You didn’t know why, but you ended up letting out a laugh that was probably louder than it should have been. “Okay, so maybe you are a bit cocky. But that doesn’t explain how you and Daniel met on this show.”
“To be fair, Y/n, you never asked how we met, all you asked was who I was here for. But since you just have to know, his brother was on the show as well. It’s called The X-Factor, it’s a singing competition show. Anyways, his brother went before me and I guess he could sense my nerves because he came up to me and told me that I would do great. His brother didn’t end up making it, I actually think he still kind of resents me.”
His brother, Austin Green, wasn’t here tonight. His wife was in the hospital having their baby, you had only met him twice. And each time you had met him, he wasn’t the kindest person, especially since you had a baby so young and the father wasn’t around. “He resents me too, it’s not just you. Having a baby out of wedlock is not the ideal situation in his book. Hell, it’s not the ideal situation in anyone's book.”
A look of pity flashed across his face. You’ve gotten used to that look, it doesn’t get easier each time it gets given to you, and it’ll only weigh more and more on your daughter as she gets older. Oh look, Cadence’s mom is a whore who got pregnant after having sex with a douchebag, clearly they weren’t good enough for him since he had no will to stick around.
“Now that’s not true. It was not a look of pity, it was one of sorrow. The fact that someone would criticise you because you had a baby out of wedlock, but now I can see the story goes deeper than that. And I certainly don’t think you are a whore for having sex with some ‘douchebag’ whom you may have loved.” Harry stated, leaning his head downward a little do get a better look into your eyes. How in the hell did you just say all of that out loud? The look in his eyes did in fact show sorrow, but not for the reasons you had thought.
Maybe he’s just making all of this stuff up? He’s probably just saying all of this because he feels sorry for you, or maybe he wants something more with you. Something that doesn’t involve a baby, or clothes for that matter.
“I should go. I have to get my daughter home, she’s gonna wake up with cramps because of how her neck is laying. It was lovely to meet you Harry, really.” You stood up, grabbing the small backpack you had sitting on the back of the chair. It had a spare change of clothes for Cadence in case she had an accident, your phone and your wallet, and a few dolls for Cady to play with if she got bored.
“Wait, Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, opposite of that actually.” His hand grabbed the wrist that wasn’t holding Cadence up. His face was sincere, though it did not make things better. “Harry, it’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to want to get to know me. Guys like you never do, I don’t hold you against it.”
“Guys like me? Y/n, you can’t put words in my mouth like that. You don’t know me, and if you did, I’m sure you wouldn’t be saying that. I don’t care if you’re a single mum at a young age. I don’t care if you are barely surviving with bills piling up. I don’t care if your apartment is a mess because you have a child and it is hard to keep a clean platform. I don’t care, okay? I walked up to you because you were alone and I figured you would like the company.”
He interrupted you before you could properly finish, his words were barely registering and his hand was still clasped around your wrist. However, you pulled away and placed your arm under your daughter protectively, also to ease the slight pain of holding her in one arm. “So you admit it. You only talked to me because you felt bad for me. Look I’m not some lonely girl who needs saving, I have a child to think about and she will always come first.”
Maybe you were overreacting, he hadn’t even said anything about Cadence. “What? I did not come over to you because I felt bad. Why can’t you just believe me when I say that I genuinely wanted to talk to you.”
Harry was getting frustrated, it was pretty clear. His voice was raising the slightest bit, the rasp in his voice slowly disappearing. “Because guys don’t talk to me for no good reason. They always want something, so make this easier for both of us and spit it out already.”
By now, the bickering had caused Cady to stir in your arms. Your eyes still on Harry as you slowly started to lull her back to sleep, bouncing a little side to side. “I just wanted to get to know you better. Believe it or not, not all guys are looking for something.” And with that Harry turned around and walked away. Leaving you to sigh and make your way over to Zoey and Daniel to bid your goodbyes.
His words replaying in your head, Believe it or not, not all guys are looking for something. What did that even mean?
Hello everyone, welcome to my new mini series, My Girl, I have no clue how long it'll actually be but I have some ideas. I really hope you like it, if people are even reading this. If not lets pretend this never happened. I am still getting used to uploading on here so I am going to try and figure out how to make a masterlist to stay organised, and how to do requests for whenever you guys have ideas. I may not be the best writer out there, but it’s just a thing I enjoy doing. If you are here, thank you for reading and I hope you come back.
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tag! you're it - 6
Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Summary: Bucky falls for Wanda’s college roommate, too bad she’s less that interested.
Warning(s): slow burn
AN: the series taglist had 2 spots open up & my permanent taglist cleared up a bit so if you'd like to be added just send me an ask :)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
perm taglist (26/40): @stuckonjbbarnes @sunflowerxbarnes @dumb-barnes-simp @the-soulofdevil-reads @also-fangirlinsweden @valsworldofcreativity @rebekahdawkins @lovinlikeloki @aikeia @superavengerpotterstar @justtuesdays @katiaw2 @buckyxplumsss @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @antheiagoddessofnarnia @writingletterstothefire @niall2017 @thummbelina @disaster-rose @taketimeandappreciate @thebadassbitchqueen @brokenthelovely @levi-inthesun @slytherinsheashire @faithfullcompanion
series tags (8/10): @shawnie--jo @the-princess-recommends @buckylokisimp @pellucid-constellations @toothhurtyam @shadowsndaisies @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @rexit-mo
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Whump Prompt #774
(In the lead up to whumptober I will be drawing from the alternatives list)
While traumatic brain injuries are a horrific ailment to suffer in real life, there's something quite pleasing about the symptoms when writing them for fictional characters...
Short/Long-term memory problems
Trouble thinking clearly,
Feeling more emotional
The blend of symptoms make for a wonderful slow recovery fic filled with angst - particularly if writing graphic injury is not your cup of tea.
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[ May We Meet Again Where the Sun Shines ]
pairing(s): tomoaki(kazuha's friend) x f!reader (romantic), kamisato ayaka x f!reader (platonic), kamisato ayato x f!reader
genres: slow burn and angst with a bit of fluff
(master post) (description)
Being a fox envoy would usually entail you having a good memory, pristine even. Recalling every detail of any event you have experienced with great ease.
But with the cataclysm that happened 500 years ago, did that ability of yours slowly dwindle and erode. You could recall the general events but the specific faces that we're associated with them have been blurred.
Instead of staying at the Grand Narukami Shrine, you had pleaded with Yae Miko to let you go and wander around Inazuma. She was reluctant a bit at first but relented, you did not have and vision with you but your innate magic should suffice with your travels.
And so you traveled around Inazuma, even so stepping out of the country's borders every once and a while but always finding your back home like a moth to a flame. Despite your hazy memories, you had remembered having an encounter with the wife of the current head of the Kamisato Clan and was swiftly brought in and turned into her adviser.
You don't remember how it had happened and what made them agree but you did your duties none the less. You would become the adviser of the wife to the head Comissioner and if the current head did not have a wife by the time they take the role, you would be an adviser to the eldest daughter if there were no daughters did you become the adviser to the Head Comissioner.
Which leads you to the present time, the young lord Ayato has not taken a wife by the time he has become head comissioner thus did you become the adviser to the eldest daughter, Kamisato Ayaka.
The two have few to call their friends but those few they cherish close to their hearts. Which leads you to a friend of theirs or rather a friend of a friend. The young lord Kaedahara Kazuha has become friends with a young ronin blessed with an electro vision that goes by the name Tomoaki.
Tomoaki is a curious one, their is nothing noteworthy to him by looking at his family name but his true worth lies within the people's story about him, those who he had helped in the past. How he seems to be a walking sunshine wherever he goes.
You had met Tomoaki when it was raining long before he had befriended Kazuha, it was by mere coincidence as the rain had crept up on you without you noticing.
You two had chatted for a bit before the rain slowed down a bit did you make a run for it but not before telling Tomoaki.
"May we meet again where the sun shines",
Ahhh, how you wished you could have fulfilled those words.
@3rdgymbros i don't know if you remember me but i was the one who sent an ask if i could send an angsty Tomo ask it was supposed to be a one-shot but i kept adding on to it and it became a mini series. i hope it stays a mini series because by god do i have other fics to write.
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learn to love
chapter 12 - heartbreaker
summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.
pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader
warnings: DRUNK DRIVING, alcohol, depressive feelings/episode, general angst
a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE never drink and drive. it’s never worth it.
steve had a rough summer, to say the least. after wallowing in self pity for a few days, he fell into a routine. he did just enough to get by at work, then would release his tensions at the gym before going home and drinking whatever bottle of alcohol he had grabbed from the grocery store in a futile attempt to forget her. when he closed his eyes, all he saw was her. when he tossed and turned in bed at night, her smell lingered. he didn’t know where it wafted in from or if it was just a figment of his imagination, but he reveled in every moment of it. on the rare night that he was sober, he would take his motorcycle out for a ride through the city. the fresh air cleared his head.
almost three months after he had returned from the trip, he finally began to unpack his suitcase which had been thrown in the hallway closet. he began shoveling the clothing into a laundry hamper when he came across the shirt she had worn to sleep. he ran his fingertips over the faded graphic. he could taste their champagne laced kiss on his tongue. he closed his eyes and released a deep breath. he felt his cells tingling as he relived the moment; the feeling her waist under his hands, the smell of the blooming flowers and the aftermath of rain, the way the dim lighting caused her eyelashes to cast a shadow on her face.
“oh, y/n,” he whispered.
he had never gotten his heart broken, before. he had always been the heartbreaker. he had never felt pain akin to the one that he was experiencing. it was as though he had left a piece of him on the curb outside of her apartment with her and her belongings. why didn’t she want him? what was holding her back?
often enough, he wondered where he went wrong. the question bounced around his head when he would thumb through his camera roll, looking at pictures of her, when he would be on his commute to work, and when he was in the shower.
the scalding water thrummed against his back as he washed the shampoo out of his hair. the temperature was almost painful, but he didn’t notice. suddenly, he heard her laughter ringing around the house. he paused, making sure he was hearing correctly.
“y/n?” he called out. he strained as he searched for her voice. he was craving her. he turned the water off, trying to hear better. “y/n?” no reply. he stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around his hips. he threw open the bathroom door and stepped out into his apartment. “y/n?” he looked around and discovered that his tv was on. she was not there.
he sat down on the couch and switched the tv off with the remote. he put his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands for a moment. where did i go wrong? he thought.
that night, he drank more than he usually did. his foggy mind decided that he wanted to go out for a ride. he looked at himself in the mirror above his dresser. he didn’t know who was staring back at him. he had bulked up due to the hours at the gym. he shrugged on his leather jacket and a pair of shoes, tucked his helmet under his arm and went off to the parking garage.
the drive started off as smooth as it could be in his inebriated state. the roads were mostly empty, the faint sounds of traffic in the distance. the fresh air wasn’t clearing his thoughts. he felt like he was being suffocated. he switched gears and accelerated. then, he saw it out of the corner of his eye; a cat. it darted out in front of him. he slammed on the brakes and attempted to maneuver the motorcycle to skid to halt, but he lost control. it slid onto its side and out from under him. he rolled to absorb the impact and saw, just in time, the motorcycle hitting a pole.
he stood up, catching his breath and patting his stomach and his sides. he examined himself. there was not a scratch on him. he released a shaky breath and approached the motorcycle. on the other side of it, the cat sat. it meowed at steve.
he sat down on the curb and removed his helmet, scratching the back of his head. he couldn’t process what had just happened. he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone. the screen illuminated his face in a wash of blue light. he went to his recent calls, clicked on the contact on the top, and put his phone to his ear. he pressed his other hand against his thigh to keep it from shaking.
“hey, man. can you pick me up?”
sam came to steve’s rescue in his truck. they loaded the totaled motorcycle into his trunk and drove to sam’s place in silence. sam unlocked the front door and gestured for his friend to enter. “we’ll talk in the morning,” he told him.
he nodded while nudging his shoes off then headed for the couch. he draped his jacket over the arm and grabbed a throw pillow to clutch against his chest. he closed his eyes and when he fell asleep, he dreamt of y/n.
the following morning, sam woke steve up. the blond freshened up in the bathroom and returned to a cup of coffee. “what you did last night was unacceptable,” sam told him. “you could’ve gotten hurt or you could’ve died. what if there was a car? you could’ve killed somebody, steve.” the man stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the counter. “what’s going on with you?”
“i keep asking myself that,” steve answered. “i don’t know.”
“well, you have two options. go to rehab or i’ll file a police report. you can’t go on like this. you’ve been drinking heavily since you came back from bos-”
“i know,” steve cut him off. “you’re right, sam. it’s time for a change.”
and so steve took sam’s advice. he took a leave of absence from work and checked into rehab. he stayed there for two weeks and when he checked out, he felt more at peace with himself. his heart was still captivated by y/n, but his thoughts were no longer completely plagued by her. he would still lie awake at night thinking about her soft skin and the twinkle in her eyes right before she told a joke. most of the time, he was able to shake the thoughts off, turn onto his side, and fall fast asleep.
that is, until he saw her at sam’s house. the second he saw natasha enter his heart began racing. he didn’t see her but he could feel her heart calling out to his. he nervously greeted natasha and began fidgeting with a napkin. a minute later, she entered with sam, eyes trained on the ground. he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. she looked up, her eyes meeting his. the floodgates opened and all his feelings for her came rushing back.
@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ; @pinknerdpanda ; @marvelssluts ;
learn to love tags:
@youunravelme ; @cailin-lefantasy ; @clockworkherondale ; @clean-and-claire ; @denzmallows ; @ibxxmc-blog ; @itsallyscorner ; @brujademente ; @dusuncelidusuncesiz ; @complete-trash-101 ; @radical-gecko ; @liebestraume-e : @cruelsummer-s ; @myoneandongly ;
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The Shepherd's Sword - 04
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Links to my Sharon/Steve fics on AO3.
Status: Complete - Chapters 22/22
Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter keep skirting around their feelings, and when it reaches a breaking point, all hell breaks loose. Will the two ever make up their minds? - Post Civil War. Some Falcon Winter Soldier references included
A Little Red and Blue
Status - Complete - Chapters 9/9
Sharon didn't know Wanda Maximoff well. Only that she held great power and practiced magic in ways Sharon never really understood. She was everything Sharon wasn't. And she was powerful. Sharon found that out first hand when she received a blast straight in the chest.
Sharon tried to control the tone in her voice, because she was obviously panicking. "Just tell me what year it is."
The boy blinked. "Why, it's March 24th, 1944, Miss." He inched away. "Have you had a lot to drink?"
The Storms of War
Status - Complete - Chapters 9/9
"I swear to God, if I wake up horny again, I'll need to find the next guy who walks through the door and jump him. And I know what you're going to say, but I'm not waiting around for your damned Golden Boy. He can disappear into the night for all I care."
This wasn't a report on coordinates, safe house locations, or some hit list that he was expecting from one of Natasha's contacts. In fact, the voice sounded so much like..
Steve. Sharon. Laundry.
A companion one-shot to Finding Home
It was in the middle of a chase, with bullets flying in the air and the loud rev of the motorbike, that Steve realized just how much he wanted Sharon Carter
And that was how she found herself underneath Steve Rogers' bed, hiding with her front firmly pressed against the hardwood, and hoping to hell he couldn't hear her ragged breathing.
Steve realizes he's no longer a man out of time.
Status - In Progress - Chapters 6/?
Her eyes hardened. "You're not Steve."
"Steve's not coming," he said, his jaw locked. "He sent me to retrieve you."
In the aftermath of Civil War, Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter were meant to meet again. Unfortunately, things don't go according to plan, and Steve sends his best friend, the newly awoken, James Barnes, in his place to ensure that Sharon reaches their safehouse without trouble.
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Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader, Teen wolf rewrite
In the shadows: When Scott is turned into a werewolf, an unusual group of friends must band together to survive. With dangerous things happening in Beacon Hills at all times, ‘Mori’ Bellisario must learn how to adapt to life with supernatural creatures, hunters, and falling in love.
All chapters with smut will have* Warnings: blood, violence, sex, swearing
In the shadows edits
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Part 3/4, I'm sorry in advance
If you could, please let me know how you are liking this series. Thank you!
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: Fluff and some angst
Warnings: Mentions of drunk driving, premature birth, adoption, and a car accident
Word Count: 3.6k (They just keep getting shorter, I know. I’m trying to make them longer.)
The outside world was now a dark shade of blue, the moon and stars beautifully illuminating the sky. The time read eleven-fifteen and yet no one dared to move off of the safety of your balcony. Cadence had fallen back into a slightly peaceful slumber, her congested nose being heard each time she took in a breath. Harry had carried her back to her room despite all of your comments on how you could get her when you go to bed. You hated to admit it but Harry was really good company. Especially when he compliments you on your tea making ability, although the only thing you did was add in some milk and honey with the tiniest bit of sugar.
Currently the two of you were laughing about something Harry had done when he was a child, his mother scolding him and almost getting grounded for “accidentally” punching a kid on the playground. If your opinion mattered in the slightest, you would say that he did it on purpose because of the evidence leading up to that point. “So, Cadence. How did you come up with that name? I've never heard of it before.” His voice was adoring, he was truly interested in what you had to say. He was pretty fond of the tint on your cheeks, though the night sky makes it hard for him to see them properly. “I have always loved the name Katie but I hated the name Kaitlyn, and I wanted it to be unique. I was originally going to name her Candace, but I didn’t want her to suffer with a name from Phineas and Ferb. Plus, who doesn’t like a good Mean Girls reference?”
You had a similar fondness for the green eyed beauty that sat beside you. His smile would quite possibly be the death of you, which wouldn’t be good because there was no way you could trust Zoey and Daniel to raise Cadence without messing her up in one way or another. “I think Cadence fits her perfectly. She’s like really smart as well, she’s only two right? I have never met a two year old who knew the phrase artificially flavoured, let alone a two year old who could speak as well as she can.” Honestly you didn’t think your cheeks could heat up anymore than they already were, but him speaking so positively on your daughter was something adored. It was something that you weren’t used to because of who her mom was.
“She is, yeah. When I tell you she had the whole alphabet memorised by a year, I’m not lying. I have no clue what that daycare is teaching her, but I can’t say that I mind it either. Just be glad you don’t see the sass on her, her mother was no better at that age. I wish that I could meet her and ask why she had such a drama queen.” Your tone joking, a slight laugh being let out as you finished the sentence. It wasn’t like Cadence was a diva all the time, but when she was, it could be a real hassle.
“Oh no, her mother is probably worse now more than ever.” Harry continued on with the joke. Talking with you had become slightly easier but he could tell there was something going on deeper than what he could see. You were no open book, and as much as he would love to open you up and read what you’re thinking, he knew it would take time. Time that he was willing to give because when he walked up to you that day of the wedding, he had no intentions of it being a one time meeting.
You had lightly slapped his shoulder, a clear offended look on your face until you couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out in laughter, Harry following soon after. The two of you were obviously more comfortable with each other and you really only had Cady to thank. Had it not been for her, you guys would probably be sitting at your dining room table having slight and awkward small talk. “Hey uhm, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean Zoey called me in hysterics and then you weren’t any better when answering the door. I know we don’t entirely know each other, but you can talk to me. I’ll listen to you.”
The air seemed a bit more tense now, almost making it hard for you to breathe just thinking about the events of the day all over again. Harry stared into your eyes, seeing as they nervously moved from eye to eye. “It’s probably nothing to get so worked up about, I’m just overthinking the situation for more than what it is.” You spoke softly, averting your eyes to your hands in your lap. Nervously picking at the already chipped yellow nail polish. That is until Harry grabbed your chin so you had no other option than to look at his face, his beautifully structured face. Is there a way you could meet his mother to thank her for gracing the world with such beauty?
“‘M sure that’s not true, love. If it has you overthinking, then it’s got to be a big deal.” This wasn’t a conversation you were exactly ready to have with him because there is nothing he could say to calm your nerves while you wait on the impending phone call with her results. But you knew that you had to talk about it because if not then you will literally crumble with all of the emotions.
“I took Cady to the doctors today and they are concerned about her weight. She’s six pounds underweight, which doesn’t necessarily sound so bad, but they wanted to make sure she doesn’t have some chronic illness and I guess I am seeing the worst of the situation. But that’s normal, right? I mean any parent would go crazy over the little unknowns of their children. Right?”
Harry’s face got visibly softer, the dim tint of the moon shining off the side of his face. His hand had moved from cupping your jaw to splayed across your hands in your lap. “‘Course it’s normal, love. It’s fucking terrifying when you find out something could be wrong with your child, even if it’s as small as falling off of the swing. Overthinking does not make you a bad mum, it makes you a concerned one. Concern comes from the depths of your heart, it goes to show how much you love her.” Harry spoke, repeating the words he once spoke on the first day of meeting you. A small smile replaces the frown you once had and Harry slowly brings his arms to wrap around you in a secure hug.
For the first time in your life, you felt safe in the presence of another person. The scariest part of that though was that you had only met him once before this, and that didn’t exactly go the way you would have initially planned. There was no way you could fall any deeper into his eyes and his heart, because you fear that if you depend too much on him, he will leave. Just like every other person in your life. And you definitely couldn’t let Cadence get attached because that will be an even harder thing to explain to a girl who has had so much loss in her life already. She would grow up and wonder where her daddy is and you just had no answer.
Would you tell her the truth? That he was a coward and ran away? He didn’t want her so he bolted? Would you tell her that he wasn’t here anymore? There is no easy way to tell your child why they don’t have a parent in their life. Because then they would feel less than what they are, and the truth is that they are too good for that parent. “You wanna know something?” you broke the silence, you didn’t really know where this sense to confide in him came from but the next thing you know he’s letting out a hum as his arms continue to rub at your back. One of his hands playing with the ends of your hair.
“When I first found out I was pregnant with Cady, I didn’t think I could be a good mother. I thought she deserved better than me, hell I still feel as if she deserves better than me. I had the original thought that I would give her up for adoption, so she at least had a shot in this world, it’s what got me through my pregnancy. The thought that I was actually doing something right in my life, I would be giving my daughter the life she deserves, even if that meant I wasn’t in it.”
“Harry, it tore me apart to look for potential families. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was doing the right thing. During my fifth month of pregnancy I met this really amazing couple, their names were Delilah and Phinean, they had been married for twelve years and had tried for a baby for five years. They had a dog named Maggie and were ready to add to the family. I mean, they were exactly what I was looking for in parents for my baby, they were perfect. I was so close to giving her a perfect life, I went to sign the official documents that legally named them her parents on the morning of October 4th. I never made it to that appointment.”
“Zoey and I were driving on the highway when some drunk guy lost control of his car and basically t-boned us on the passenger side. That was the side I was on, and all I could remember was pain everywhere and Zoey’s screaming for somebody to help us, and next thing I knew I was unconscious and being placed in the back of an ambulance. Cadence barely made it. I was only nineteen weeks pregnant, meaning I was nearing my sixth month. It’s highly unlikely that a baby could survive being almost four months premature, it’s possible, but rare. And she happened to be the miracle that survived. Zoey got away with a few cuts and bruises but I had to go through a series of surgeries because of broken bones and other major internal injuries. Zoey told me that the doctor actually told her that neither me nor Cadence were bound to make it through the night.”
“When Delilah and Phinean heard about the accident they rushed to the hospital and met who they thought was going to be their daughter, and then they sat with me until I woke up five days later. The first thing I did was ask about my baby, how my baby was, where she was, did she make the crash? And they had said that she was alive but in critical condition, they didn’t think she would make it much longer. Harry, they made me choose whether or not I should take her off of life support, that was the hardest and by far most heartbreaking decision I have ever had to make in my life. It took me three days to give them a definite answer, which was obviously no. I hadn’t even met her yet and yet here I was already making life harder for her! That is when I knew I really couldn’t keep her, she was never my baby to begin with, she was theirs. But the moment I laid eyes on her was a huge game changer, she was so fucking tiny and hooked up to all these different machines, but she was breathing! She was breathing and she was alive.”
“How could someone that small possibly survive such a traumatic experience and still be fighting. And so from that point on I knew I made the right choice in not taking her off of life support. Except it would be a long and painful journey for her to go through at such a young age. I think that is why I just jump to the worst case scenario, because her first year of living was spent with nothing but hoping and praying that she would be okay, that she would make it through this. And the first time I got to hold her was my breaking point. I couldn’t give her away. She was small enough to fit in the palm of your hand! And she was only a pound and five ounces. However I didn’t get to hold her for the first three months of her life, she was to have no contact because of how tiny she was. For three months, this innocent and perfect couple went on to believe that they finally had a daughter. Their dream had finally come true. And I stole that from them, I shattered their dreams and made them lose hope. And as much as they told me that they understood, that they knew the connection that I had grown towards her, I could still see her tears. I can visibly see Phinean’s anger when I go to sleep at night, he was looking at me like I was a monster. And for months after that I truly believed that I was.”
“I had single handedly taken away and crushed their dreams of being parents. They didn’t deserve that, and yet it happened. But two months ago I got a message from them, those dreams that I had crushed? They were made by another girl named Remedy, she gave them a healthy baby boy who was born at nine months like a baby should be. They named him Jullian Alexander Temple, he is the sweetest boy. And they asked how Cadence was doing and if they could see a picture of her. I felt bad sending the picture and at first told them no because I didn’t want them to get upset at me, but they reassured me that it was totally fine. So reluctantly, I sent the picture. It was Cadence in big sunglasses that almost covered her nose, she had a chocolate ice cream cone in her left hand and the bead necklace she wore in her right. There was chocolate coating the lengths of her mouth, and on the tip of her nose. Her hip popped out and she made a duck face, the sass was all too real. I’ll have to show you sometime, but when they congratulated me for such a beautiful girl, I broke down into tears. Continuously apologizing to them, but for some crazy reason, each time I apologized they waved me off and said how happy and proud they are of me. They actually wanted to meet up but I felt as if that would be too painful to see the girl you once thought was yours? I couldn’t imagine that.”
“And the only other people who know about this are Zoey, Daniel, and Liz. They are the ones who helped me most, and then two days after finally taking Cady home, that’s when Zoey claimed her love for Daniel and here we are now. All is good, or it was good until today. Zoey thinks it’s just because of how premature she is, but I can’t help but think otherwise. Call it mother intuition. Even though at the beginning of her life I was ready to send her off with someone else, today I can’t even begin to imagine a life without her. She’s my rock. My muse. She’s my girl and seeing her in so much pain again brings back so many horrible memories that I wish were anything but reality.”
As you finished your speech in tears, you finally looked up at Harry to see that he had tears of his own pooling at the edges of his eyes. You had never told anyone besides the people who already knew, and something deep within you knew that this was the right thing to do. You took the end of your sweater sleeve and wiped under your eyes, collecting the tears before lightly gripping his face and doing the same thing with Harry and giving him a small smile. He took a deep breath in, still clearly processing what you had just told him and you couldn’t even blame him, it was a lot to take in.
“Y/N, I am -- I don’t know what to say, honestly. I am so sorry you had to go through that, that you both had to go through that. I can’t even begin to understand what you went through, it must have been so hard.” His words came out a jumbled mess, his stuttering not letting up as he continued, “And to make rash decisions on a whim, I mean what if you had chosen to take her off?”
“I know. Looking back on it now, I can’t believe it took me three days to make the choice, if I could go back I would say no instantly. I hope you don’t see me, us, any different now that you know our story. We are still the same people from the reception, except I swear I’m a lot nicer than whoever I was that night.” Harry gave you a confused look as if he were to say “Are you crazy?!” Which you couldn’t quite understand.
“You’re joking, right? Y/N, knowing your story definitely makes me look at you differently--”
“What?” You were confused, scared even. You had just told him something so personal, and he had the audacity to think of you differently? “Not like that, god definitely not like that. I think you are by far the strongest person, people, I have ever met. Your story makes me respect you on a level that breaks the scale, cause even through all of that you never gave up. You risked two people hating you because you wanted to take the chance to give your daughter the life she deserves. You are selfless and remarkable and undeniably the most admirable person I have had the pleasure of walking up to at my best mates wedding. I am completely and foolishly entranced by you.” There was a pause of silence. One of those unbearable but comfortable silence’s, how that made any sense at all? Well, there was no true answer to that.
You wanted to say something, anything, but the words got caught in your throat. You were for sure that he would leave once hearing how damaged you are, but instead he’s here praising you for it. It was something you weren’t used to, hell you weren't sure if it was something you even wanted to get used to. This was one of those insecure dependable moments, if you got used to it, you would depend on it. If you depended on it then it would come back and bite you in the ass, and you couldn’t have that.
“All of my life I have been told how worthless I was. Teachers, classmates, parents, anyone you could think of. I was told that I had no future. When I told my mom that I was pregnant she told me that I didn’t have what it takes to be a mother. When I told her I wasn’t keeping it she told me that it was better that I got rid of it because had I not, it would grow up to be a trashy and useless bitch like the child she raised. And through all of that I wanted to scream at her because she was no better. I wanted to tell her that she should have never had me if I was so trashy and useless, though she already knew that because she would constantly tell me how I was the biggest mistake of her life. I haven’t spoken to her since the day I told her I was keeping the baby. She had said some really awful things but I didn’t care because I strived to be a better mother than she has ever been.”
“I remember one night, I was feeding Cadence for the first time since she has been off of her feeding tube. I had The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air playing in the background and ironically it was the scene right after Will’s dad left. I have never related to anything more than when he said, “‘Cause there ain’t a damn thing he could ever teach me about how to love my kids!” and that night I sat there just adoring the little girl I held in my arms. The love I hold for her is beyond this world. You have to know, Harry, I am a very complicated girl with a very complicated story that has barely even been broken into. I’m giving you an out. Right here, right now, I am giving you an out because if you decide to do this and then realize I’m not good enough for your presence, I’m not sure I will be able to let go. And even though I have gained so much in the last two and a half years, I have lost so much more in the last twenty-four. So this is your out, I won’t be mad if you decide to leave.”
Before you could finish your rant, you felt his lips hit roughly against yours. His lips were chapped, but they were so much better than you could have ever imagined. His hand laid on your waist, pulling you closer to where your bodies are now touching. Your own hands sliding around his neck and pulling slightly at the small hairs at the nape of his neck, in return he let out the smallest of groans. Somehow his tongue found its way into your mouth, exploring all of the right places before he slowly leaned back and whispered out, “I’m not leaving. I’m in this for however long you will have me.”
And that is when you knew that things might actually be okay in your life.
haha, ouch. I’ll be honest, this isn’t at all how I thought this chapter was going to go, but once I started writing, I just couldn’t stop. So I really do hope you enjoy this and that I didn’t make you cry too much during this chapter. Please let me know how you are liking this so I know how long to keep this going! I know I said that at the top, but I would really love to know your opinions. Also so sorry for the spam! I have been in a ridiculous writing mood, and I just know I am going to get writer’s block here soon, I can just feel it lol.
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"i hate you"
okay then have an enemies to lovers arc with me
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i don’t make the rules
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learn to love
chapter 11 - waiting game
summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.
pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader
warnings: alcohol, mentions of depressive feelings/episodes, disordered eating habits, weight loss, general angst
a/n: hi all! writers block has cleared for the moment and here is the chapter! unedited but is anyone surprised?
y/n never ended up sending steve the venmo request. upon the arrival to her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto her bed. she sobbed into her pillow. she could not handle the pain of her consequences. there was nothing else in the world that she wanted more than steve. she had never yearned for anything so badly. she felt as if she had ripped out a piece of her soul and left it in his car.
an hour or so later, she collected herself and stepped out of her room to find herself home alone. she let out a sigh of relief, and returned to her room. she opened the window and unpacked her suitcase. she changed her sheet, put on a load of laundry, and took a quick shower before sitting down in front of the television with a glass of wine in hand. she has been through enough heartbreaks to know that the world would not stop for her. she did not realize that she had been shaking the whole time until she brought the wine glass to her lips. after taking a small sip, she placed it on the coffee table and wrung her hands out.
“no more crying,” she told herself as a tear slipped down her cheek.
things were not much better for steve. he drove straight to the gym. he parked, popped the trunk, and opened his suitcase to look for work-out appropriate gear. all of his clothes had been neatly folded by y/n. his heart skipped a beat and then broke a little more. he rummaged through until he found a pair of sweatshorts and a t-shirt. after changing, he went straight for the punching bag. he wrapped his hands and set it up with no effort and then began his assault. he let out his pain, frustration, and sadness with each jab. her words echoed in his head and he could not shake them off. he swung around and kicked his leg out, nailing the bag a little too hard and causing it to fall from the hook. he glared at it, chest heaving. he could feel the stares of the other people there. he put the punching bag away and unwrapped his hands. he was shaking.
steve called into work the next day, saying he had a headache. it was true. he spent the day in his room, a glass of scotch never too far away.
y/n forced herself to get ready for work. she felt like shit. she was exhausted psychically and emotionally and her mind, body, and heart all screamed at her to stop but she pushed through. when she emerged from her room in the morning, natasha was in the kitchen, her morning coffee in hand.
“you look like shit,” she commented, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the steaming contents.
“traveling is exhausting,” y/n replied. she headed to the fridge and opened in, glancing inside to see if there was anything that would make her appetite return. there wasn’t.
“how was it?” the redhead asked.
“it went,” she paused, searching for the right words, “as expected. we argued a lot.” she sent out a little prayer to any god that was listening that her roommate wouldn’t press the matter. she would fall apart if she had to talk about it. she grabbed a can of cold brew from the door of the fridge and cracked it open. she hoped it wasn’t obvious that her hands were shaking.
“i guess my predictions were off,” natasha chuckled.
y/n exhaled a small sigh of relief and offered her a small smile. “you can say that,” she remarked.
she made it through the workday with only three breaks to the bathroom to cry and wipe her snot away with scratchy toilet paper. after she left, she went home where she threw ingredients from the pantry and fridge into a pan to make some semblance of a meal. she poured herself a glass of wine, picked at her dinner, then stepped into the shower. she retired to her room where she watched a random show. eventually, she was lulled into a dreamless sleep. she awoke the next morning to a text from an unknown number.
Hello. It’s Thor. Steve gave me your number :)
she deleted the text.
all of her days blurred into one. she did the same thing everyday, with the exception of a grocery run and trip to the liquor store once a week. natasha would invite her to go out and she would politely decline. soon enough, summer neared its end. it hung over her like a storm cloud.
she was laying in bed with a throw blanket on and watching a sitcom when there was a knock on her door. she paused the show. “come in,” she called.
natasha pushed open the door and leaned against the wall. her curtains were drawn, but a cool breeze caused them to flutter. she knew something had happened between her and steve, as they were both in the same state of melancholy but neither of them told anyone the events of the trip. she knew she would find out eventually. she was an expert at the waiting game. “you have two options,” she began. “come with me to sam’s labor day party,” she held up her index finger, “or let your social life die in this room with you.” her middle finger joined the other and she wiggled them in the air. “choose wisely.”
y/n sucked in a breath. “work has been so stressful. my social battery is completely drained.” same excuse as always.
“two options,” natasha repeated. “bye-bye friends or hello free alcohol and dinner.”
“i want to stay home.”
“okay then, say it,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “say, ‘i choose to let my social life die in this room with me.’”
“i-” y/n opened her mouth and then shut it. she stared at natasha for a moment before kicking off her blanket. “damn you’re good,” she grumbled.
“i know,” she grinned. “you have thirty minutes to get ready.” she turned around to leave and closed the door.
“hello free alcohol and dinner,” y/n mumbled to herself.
she rolled out of bed. she found a summery midi dress in the back of her closet and changed into it. it was a hand-me-down from a friend who didn’t want it and hadn’t zipped the last time she attempted to wear it, but now the zip easily glided up. her lifestyle change had caused her to lose weight. she did minimal makeup and brushed her hair, which was, for the most part, styled from when she last washed it. she stared at herself in the mirror and couldn’t seem to recognize herself. her face was thinner. she reached up to touch her cheek but was interrupted with another knock.
“ready to go?”
“i don’t know if this is a good idea,” she replied.
“okay, then say it. ‘bye-bye social life.’”
“no,” y/n responded. “i’m ready.”
the pair stopped at the liquor store for a moderately priced bottle of wine before they reached sam’s house. natasha pressed the doorbell and a moment later the door swung open to reveal the smiling man. “long time no see!” he pulled y/n in for a bear hug.
she had been lost in her mind for so long that she had forgotten what comfort felt like. she melted into him and reciprocated the hug.
“i’m here too,” natasha joked, poking sam’s arm. “and i brought wine.”
“great to see you, too,” sam rolled his eyes then pulled away from y/n and gave her roommate a hug. “come in, we’re just about to get started on dinner.”
natasha had no problem sauntering into the house where y/n heard the sounds of everyone greeting her. she lingered in the entry-way for a moment, trying to pick out steve’s voice from the symphony. sam noticed her hesitation.
“what’s been keeping you away this summer?” he asked.
“work has been really hectic. everything just keeps piling up. i’m putting in overtime but i still can’t manage to get on top of things. by the time i get home, i’m too tired to do anything else,” she told him. it was true. she had been pouring herself into her work.
“that’s a shame. we’ve missed you around here, but i understand how it can be,” he nodded. “sometimes, when there’s a mountain of things to do, there can be just one thing that lightens the load. oftentimes it’s buried deep underneath and you have to dig around to find it and fix it,” he paused, letting his words steep in her mind, “maybe there’s some neglected or forgotten project. when you get around to it, it’ll make the mountain moveable.”
she wanted to burst and tell him about all the events that had transpired on her trip to boston. tell him about her regrets, her fears, and her heartache. instead, she took a deep breath and gave him a close-lipped smile. “thank you for the advice. i take it that things are going well at the V.A?”
“as smoothly as they can. it’s one day at a time for a lot of those folks. i just try to help and make those days a little more manageable.”
“since when have you been bashful? i like this new sam,” she joked, nudging him.
“whatever,” he chuckled. “now, are we gonna stand here all night or are we gonna go eat some dinner?”
just on cue, her stomach grumbled. they both dissipated into a bout of giggles. “does that answer your question?”
“okay, then let’s go!”
she mustered every ounce of courage in her body and followed him into the kitchen. she kept her eyes on her feet and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. although, she hadn’t heard his voice, she knew in her heart that steve was there. she could feel it. it was as if his heart was tugging on hers, begging to be reunited. she put her feelings aside as best as she could.
when she entered the kitchen, she raised her gaze up and locked eyes with steve. the feelings all came rushing back.
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I had the absolute pleasure of drawing this commission for the wonderful @iminsatiable !!! They have been such a gem throughout the whole process and I’m so freaking blessed that they chose me 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ thank you so much!!!!!!
BASED ON THIS FIC:
He stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are faintly blotchy, flush sparsely coloring down his neck. His eyes look glassy and half-crazed. “Get it the fuck together,” he growls lowly to his reflection. “You lose everything. Get fucking used to it.”
He can’t stop thinking about it. How Derek looked at him, said his name reverently rather than disdainfully.
He sits on the shower floor, shivering even though the spray is far too hot. He keeps replaying the words over and over - sometimes the person someone shows us and the person we choose to see are two different people.
For the first time, Stiles seriously takes a moment to consider that perhaps he has never known Derek Hale at all
❤️ commissions open!❤️ shoot me a message!
KOF I PRINT SHOP PATREON
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I just want to experience the affectionate tension of always being called by my surname by that one person until the moment one of our lives is in danger and they tenderly call me by my first name
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me: i love slow burns
also me, frantically flipping through the pages of the book i’m reading: where’s the kiss when are you guys kissing i need to read the kiss scene please kiss each other i’m not going to bed before you’ve ki—
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Dan writing "slow burn" & "enemies to lovers" & "there was only one bed" political rpf 🤣
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