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seeingivy · 8 months

Note

Hi!! Can you do an angsty song fic for “hits different” with Gojo? Love the ts series !!❤️

hits different

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: older brothers best friend!satoru, teenagers being dumb teenagers, drinking, satoru calls reader belle, reader spends a fuck ton of money on toji's credit card

an: HELLO SWEETIE PIE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DA LOVE IM GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING IT SO FAR. this ended up at a 9k so I hope you enjoy pookie

present day

“Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?” he asks, his hands folded across his menu.

You close your own menu, setting it neatly on top of the plates, as you look over at him - the look in his eyes downright murderous. Granted, sticking your nose in the menu while he was trying to talk to you for the past twenty minutes couldn’t have helped, but he should cut you some slack. You’re really hungry.

It’s then and there that you see the look, that twitch in his right eye, and know exactly what’s going to happen. Toji Fushiguro, the accountant you’ve been dating for the last six months, is about to break up with you.

“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention when I talk to you, when I’m trying to sit here and tell you how I’m feeling.”

“Okay. So tell me how you’re feeling, Toji.”

He flares his nostrils, exasperated by your response. You thought it was polite. But you’ve been told your tone is downright argumentative, like grating nails on a chalkboard.

And then Toji lays out his final card, waiting for your broken expression.

“I’m breaking up with you. You-you and me. We’re done.”

No broken expression comes. Because you don’t let idiots like Toji think they have power over you, your feelings for even a second.

“Okay. Well, I still came here to eat dinner so could you pass me the main menu?”

You give him your best smile, sickly sweet, and it pushes him over the edge.

“Are you fucking serious? You’re not going to say anything to that? Anything at all? I just broke up with your pathetic ass and you don’t even feel a bit sad about it?”

You set the menu down again, crossing your wrists against your chest.

“Do you want me to, Toji? Because I can if you want me to.”

He gets even more frustrated, standing up at the table to yell his final words before he storms out.

“Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?”

“Please enlighten me. I’m dying to know.”

“You-you’re shit to be around. Literally the most frustrating, agitating, irritating person I’ve ever met. You can’t ever take anything at face value - you just argue and argue because it’s the only thing you know how to do. True love could knock on your door and you’d send it running away with that cold, dark heart in your chest. Because you’re hard to love.”

You clench your fists under the table, drawing blood against your palms.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t as agreeable as you wanted me to be. Surely the secretary you’ve been fucking for the last three months we were dating is a sweeter taste in your mouth than I am.”

“Wait, what-”

“If you’re going to fuck another girl while you’re dating me, make sure you don’t butt dial me while you’re doing it, sweetheart.”

He furrows his brow, ears pink from what you’re sure is embarrassment as he storms off. You turn your head over your neck, lifting your hand to signal Nobara, Megumi, and Itadori to join you at the table.

They all awkwardly take the empty seats at the table, Itadori immediately reaching for the free bread on the table and Megumi reaching for the bottle of wine.

“You okay?” Megumi asks, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Toji has this really, really shit habit of leaving his stuff everywhere. His sunglasses, his keys, his wallet.”

You hold the wallet in the air, Nobara immediately snatching it from your hands and pulling out his credit card.

“No way.” she says, immediately running through the menu to find the most expensive thing to eat.

“He’ll cancel it tomorrow. So, we should make the most of it tonight.” you say, the three of them smiling back at you.

“You know, I’d feel half bad about this but he cheated on you for three months, so I really, really don’t.” Megumi says, ordering another bottle of wine.

Itadori puts his hand on yours, squeezing once as he asks.

“Are you sad about it?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, come on. She’s heartless. Ever since that idiot she dated from her hometown took her heart and went running with it, she’s been cold ever since.” Kugisaki says, spreading the leftover butter on the bread she just stole from Itadori.

“Exactly.” you say, smiling at the three of them.

You tilt the rest of your wine into the back of your throat, the sensation burning as you push it down.

You hate that after all these years, even the mention of him makes your head spin.

Satoru.

two years ago

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Real clever, Getou. You really got me there.”

Getou immediately knocks you off your chair and starts wrestling with you on the ground - the two of you yanking each other’s arms and pulling each other's legs.

“Cut your hair, Getou. You look like a hillbilly with that uglyass manbun.”

“Check your attitude, Y/N. You’re getting bitchier as time goes on.”

You immediately reach up and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking hard as he elbows you in the eye. And you’re about to punch him straight in the stomach before you feel two arms around your waist, the hold firm, as you fight off the hold.

“That’s enough from you two, alright?” Satoru says, his voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s not enough, Satoru. I need to give him a piece of my mind.”

“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind with your fist, princess?”

He finally lets you go, Shoko mimicking his actions as she lets Getou go on the other side of the kitchen. You’re both glaring bloody murder at each other, the stupid look on his ugly face only enraging you more.

“Quit calling me princess, it’s stupid.” you murmur, lifting your hands up to fix the mess Getou made of your hair.

“Cmon, Belle. Don’t be like that.”

You cringe at the nickname, even worse than princess, as the memory comes straight to your mind. Third grade. Halloween Eve.

You were going to be Cinderella for Halloween - all set with fake glass slippers and a sparkly blue dress and butterfly hair clips. But Getou and Satoru had come home straight from their soccer practice, all muddy and disgusting, and accidentally sat on your costume.

The pretty blue dress you had saved all your allowance on was ruined and along with it, your hopes of impressing Haibara - the guy that you had a crush on at the time.

Except Satoru, in his infinite kindness that he’s always shared with you, dragged you to the costume store the day after, his hands wrapped around your waist as he biked the two of you there in the scorching midday October heat.

“Do you guys have any Cinderella dresses left?”

“They’re all sold out. We’re so sorry, sir.”

As the clerk walks away, Satoru turns over to you, a giddy smile on his face.

“Did you hear that? That lady just called me sir.”

“Really funny, Satoru.”

You push him into the stand by the cashier, as you stomp to the other side of the store. You look up at the little catalogs, the sparkly blue dress in the picture with a red “sold out” sign stamped on top of it. He catches up, his hand soft on your shoulder, as he talks.

“Sorry we messed up your dress, Y/N.”

You can feel the tears building in your eyes as you start aggressively swiping them away, trying to hide the fact that you were crying in front of Satoru. Knowing him, he was just going to run home and tell Getou so the two of them could laugh at you.

“No, you’re not. You probably did it on purpose.”

“We didn’t, I-I swear.”

“Getou literally told me yesterday that he thought it was stupid I wanted to be a princess for Halloween. That girls like me aren’t princesses, because they have a rotten attitude. He said I should dress up as the Scream instead.”

You look over at the ghost mask - all elongated and scary - and it only sends more tears running down your face.

“Hey. You can still be a princess if you want to be.” he says.

“No, I can’t. Because you guys ruined the costume I already did buy. And I don’t have the money for another one because I-I spent my entire allowance on that costume.”

Satoru pulls out his wallet and brings his hand down to yours, placing the crisp dollar bills in your hand. You look over at him and he’s smiling - the tips of his ears pink.

“Now you have money for the costume.”

“There’s still no costume, dumbass.”

Satoru drags you down the aisle and points at the sparkly yellow dress, his hand now slung around your shoulder again.

“They still have this one.”

“Belle? You want me to be Belle?”

“You’re more of a Belle than Cinderella. Getou’s right in the sense that you’re a little bit too harsh to be a Cinderella type.”

“Geez. Thanks Satoru.”

“But you’re smart, ambitious, headstrong enough to be a Belle. Cinderella’s the type of bitch to always back down from a fight. Belle on the other hand fights for what she wants, like you.”

You look over at him and smile, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you biking back to the house with the sparkly yellow dress in the bag in between you guys.

“Just don’t fight to date a literal animal like Belle, okay? That’s bestiality.”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

You feel a hand on your head, shaking hard, and grounding you back in the moment. And at your irritation at Getou, who's still hurling insults at you from the other side of the room.

“She started it, Shoko.” he says.

“No, I didn’t. You’re the dumbass who-” you start.

“I’m so fucking sick of you, Y/N. You’re always fucking nagging me in some way or another. You know, I heard you crying the other day about how you’re the only girl in your class who's never had a guy like you. Maybe if you took a look in the fucking mirror you’d realize why. You’re insufferable to be around.”

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes - hot and angry - as you bolt straight out the door and down the street. You can faintly hear the three of them calling for you, but you reach straight for the bike on the curb and go as far as you can.

You make your way five blocks down from your house to eventually stop at the lake, resting the bike against the dock before you walk down. You take your shoes off and dip your feet in, watching the sun fall behind the water and the sky turn brilliant, beautiful shades of pink, orange, and yellow.

And when dark blue starts creeping in, you lay back against the dock and watch the stars trickle into the night sky, hundreds of tiny sparkling lights. Except your view of the sky is then obscured by Satoru’s face, upside down from your vantage point.

“Hi Belle.”

“Screw off.”

He sits down, taking his own shoes off and dipping his feet into the water to lie down next to you.

“Did you have to take my bike when you ran off? Yours was two feet away from it.”

“Closest one. Cry about it, Satoru.”

You both sit in silence, save for the sound of your feet splashing in the water as Satoru breaches the topic.

“Never had a guy like you, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? First, you watch Getou literally rip me a new one for no reason and now you’re here to rub it in my face?”

“You know that wasn’t what I was doing. Have I ever made fun of you like that?”

You sit up, running your hands through your hair, as you look down at the water, your leg sending ripples far beyond. You swallow hard, the tears rising to your eyes again.

“No, Satoru. I haven’t had a guy like me like that. I’m the only girl going into senior year who hasn’t been kissed by a guy.” you whisper, the confession making you turn red with embarrassment.

Satoru sits up, scooting closer to you so your knees are knocking each other, as you both look down at the water.

“So why’s that a big deal, Y/N? You’ve never cared about what people think, let alone men. I mean, you’re basically a misandrist at this point.”

You smile, looking over at his blue eyes, almost indiscernible in the dark of the night.

“It’s a big deal because I want someone to like me. I-I know that you all think I’m mean and I argue all the time and-and whatever, maybe it’s true. But, I want someone to like me. You know, butterflies, first kisses, someone who saves all their secret jokes for you.”

He puts his hand flat against your forehead, like he’s checking your temperature.

“You feeling okay? Who are you and what have you done with, Y/N?”

You shake his hand off, rolling your eyes at him, as you both laugh into the night.

“You’re so mean, Satoru. I hate you.”

He lifts one of his legs out of the water and turns to his side, so that he’s facing you. You mimic his motions, the look on your face bored as you look over at him.

“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to wound my ego a little bit, so don’t tell anyone okay?”

“You with a wounded ego? I would live for the day.”

He lightly nudges you before turning back down to the water, swishing the water with his legs.

“What you said isn’t true, Belle.”

“What part?”

“About going into highschool and not having a guy like you.”

“That guy who chased me around in first grade doesn’t count because he literally thought I was-”

He brings his hands down on your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that you can’t get another word out. His eyes are closed, his face only a few feet from yours.

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” he whispers, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You nod as he lets go, giving you a satisfied smile. He turns his head back to the water, leaning over the dock.

“That guy in first grade did like you. And I like you too.”

He looks over and smiles and it makes your blood burn. You lift your hands to cover your pink face, the implication of the entire thing making your stomach burn with anxiety, embarrassment, and the gross, mushy gushy feelings you’ve had for Satoru for years. For the boy who always came to your defense when you’re fighting Getou, always came to your aid when you were crying, and the only, only person you’ve never argued with.

“So quit crying about it, okay? My type has always been girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Argumentative.”

You nod as Satoru stands up, holding his hand out. And ignore the pounding in your chest when his skin touches yours. You both walk your bikes - you pushing his bike and him pushing yours back down the blocks as you cheese at each other in the dark, sharing a secret smile before Satoru ducks back into Getou’s room.

three months later

You push up on the counter, swirling the cup of lemonade in your hand as you watch everyone mill around the party.

Your parents went out of town on a business trip. Getou throws the biggest party of the summer. And specifically tells you to stay in your room, because no one likes freshmen at a party.

Yet here you are, drinking lemonade and watching everyone mill around the party. Getou’s trying too hard to hit on a girl way older than him and Shoko and Utahime are so blatantly flirting that its giving you physical pain to watch them pine the way they are any longer.

But there’s one person you haven’t seen. Satoru.

He should have been back from his family trip to Tokyo for the summer since school was starting next week and there’s no way that he would miss anything that Getou and Shoko planned.

Even the thought of him makes your heart race, his swift admission of his feelings for you that were all but unrequited right before he left. You feel a tap on your shoulder, throwing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey. Can you hand me a cup?”

You halfheartedly smile as you reach over, handing her a cup from behind you. She gives you a smile as she swirls through the random potion Getou was serving - a dark purple color. You’re sure there’s an unfathomable amount of liquor mixed in and that it tastes disgusting.

“You want some?”

“I’m good. Getou poisoned that for all I know.” you mutter, which elicits a laugh from her.

“Interesting guy. He’s cute, right?”

You gag, the thought making the lemonade you just drank roll over in your stomach.

“Disgusting. He’s my older brother.”

She laughs, pushing up on the counter to sit with you and smiles.

“My bad. He’s ugly, downright horrendous.”

“Thank you.”

You smile as you look over at her, her eyes scanning the mess of people in front of you two.

“Oh shit. Wait, you’re Y/N, right? Satoru was talking about you.”

And any good feeling you have is now replaced with a green, jealous monster. And that part of you - the one that argues, the one that feels bitter, anger so powerfully is fighting its way out.

“Y-yeah. How do you know Satoru?”

“I don’t. I just met him upstairs. I almost puked in your room but he stopped me, helped me to the bathroom, and held my hair for a while while I threw up.”

“He’s a real nice guy, isn’t he?” you say, the sarcasm dripping from you voice.

Of course the asshole shows up to your house and flirts with another girl in your bedroom. Typical.

“Yeah. Cute too.”

Just then, Satoru and Getou walked up to you - with complete opposite expressions on their faces. Satoru is shining like the sun, his cheeks tinted pink which you’re sure is from drinking. And Getou’s glaring at you like there’s no tomorrow, his forehead scrunched up in irritation.

“Y/N.”

“Getou.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Lemonade.”

Getou snatches the cup from your hand and sets it down and by the look on his face, you know he’s about to start a fight with you.

“Are you fucking dense? That’s not lemonade, dumbass.”

“Do you think I was born yesterday, idiot? I took it from the unopened bottle in the fridge.”

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You’re too young to be here.”

“You’re one year older than me, Getou. And don’t throw a party in my house if you don’t want me here.”

Satoru puts a hand on Getou’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear until he gives you one last glare and walks away. Satoru gives you a big smile but before he can talk, the girl from before cuts him off.

“Do you want to dance now? I promise I got all my vomit out earlier so I won’t throw up this time.”

She gives him a big smile, and you swear Satoru’s considering it by the way he pauses and looks at her, which is enough said for you. You push up off the counter, telling them you’ll be right back and run off to the lake again, this time stealing Getou’s bike from the curb.

You’re pushing your legs so hard that they’re hurting, the tears biting cold against your skin from how fast you’re going in the middle of the night. And when you make it to the dock, you throw his bike against the grass and angrily kick your shoes off as you start taking your clothes off.

Is it a good idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night, alone? No. But is every human person that would come to this park at the party? Yes.

Which is the only reason you take the plunge and stare up at the moon, a tiny silver crescent in the sky. You hear a splash behind you after a few minutes and are met with Satoru, wet hair matted on his forehead.

“Find your own lake, weirdo.”

“You know. You shouldn’t skinny dip in public. People could see you.”

You look over to his pile of clothes and shoes, neatly folded in the pile next to yours.

“Same goes for you, pervert.”

You roll your eyes at him as you cross your hands across your chest, turning to your back so you don’t have to look at him. He’s faster than you are, because suddenly he’s floating right in front of you, inches from your face.

“Did I hurt your feelings, princess?”

“Quit calling me that. It’s disgusting.”

He brings his hands to your face, pushing away the tangled wet mess of hair on your shoulders.

“You like it when I call you that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, Belle.”

“Satoru.”

“I’m not saying my piece till you say yours. And you want to hear mine, so talk.”

You take a deep breath as you look at his face - all calm and blank faced like he didn’t just do the biggest asshole move he could have.

“You’re a dick, you know that? First of all, you tell me all this shit about how you like me right before you leave. And then when you come back, the first thing I see is you talking to another girl? You were holding her hair in the bathroom, fondling god knows what in my bedroom and now you want to come here and skinny dip with me? I am not some consolation prize you get to have because she was bored of those ugly pool noodle dance moves you have and don’t ever think for a second that I will be.”

You finish, your chest heaving and a shiver running across your body from the cold water. And instead of a sincere, kind-hearted apology, an acknowledgement of what he did - Satoru Gojo is laughing in your face.

You reach forward to smack his face and he stops your hand in the air, tangling his fingers with yours.

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

“You’re so fucking r-”

“Fondling? Pool noodle? Where do you even come up with this stuff?”

He brings his hands up to your cheeks and leans your head forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You can feel your head short circuiting at the sensation, your arms tingling from how close he is.

“You’re so, so ridiculous you know that? I’m never going to get tired of you.” he whispers, the words making your hair stand on their ends.

“What-you can’t just say that and-”

“Why do you think I was in your room?”

“What?”

“I was in your room, because I was looking for you. And I thought I was being nice by stopping that girl from puking all over your sheets - because I know you hate laundry and Getou isn’t going to do it for you - so I took her to the bathroom.”

You can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face for misreading the situation entirely, taking the palms of your hands and rubbing them into your eye sockets. He laughs as he tangles his hands around your wrists, placing them around his own neck.

“Still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. When I saw you last. Are you still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. But I-”

“Good.”

He leans forward, tangling his hands around your waist as he presses his warm lips to yours, his hands squeezing you as he laughs into your mouth. You don’t have much to compare it to, but by the way he’s hanging off your lips, you can tell he’s eager. Way too eager - to be kissing you of all things.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like you too.”

His face breaks out into a smile, so big that it makes you smile too. And when he cups his hand around your face again to kiss the tip of your nose, you can feel your insides screaming. For him.

“No telling Getou. He’s going to kill me, okay?”

“As if. He literally hates me, he’d be glad if-”

“No. He can’t know. You-you’re his little sister. If he finds out I even looked at you this way, he-he’d end me where I stand. Trust me, Belle. If I break my promise, he'll never talk to me again.”

“What promise?”

“When we were little. He made me promise I wouldn’t like you.”

“And yet here you are. Naked in a lake with me.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.”

You lean into his touch again, pressing your lips against his, as the moon shines a bright light on the two of you in the dark.

four months later

You and Getou awkwardly stand in the kitchen, by the open bottles of champagne, as you both secretly circle the glasses behind your back. Getou has his moments - and this is one of them. When your parents put you on display like shiny trophies for their coworkers, bragging about how smart the two of you are.

“You decided where you’re going yet?”

“Tokyo or Kyoto, Toto.”

“Toto. Ew. You haven’t called me that since we were little, idiot.”

He brings his hand around your shoulder, tucking you into his arm as you lean against his shoulder, smiling. After Getou really realized you’d be leaving at the end of the year, he’s been nicer. Granted, he still fights like hell but he has his odd moments. Like this one.

“You’ll always be Get-toto to me.”

“I’ll get you a little Totoro plushie before you go, okay? So when those bastards you date fight with you, you’ll always be reminded you have a little bitch in you ready to fight.”

“Why are you praying for my downfall? You’re not gonna manifest a sweet, warm love for me?”

“Please. The guy you end up with will be all fireworks. Soft fireplace love has never been your thing.”

He ruffles your hair as Satoru walks up, his tie loosened already. He gives you a smile and then shakes hands with Getou, the three of you leaning against the granite countertops, watching your parents mingle through the crowd.

“D’you pick yet? Because Tokyo’s the right choice, Belle.”

“I’m still thinking, Satoru.”

“C’mon. Imagine it - you joining me and Getou in Tokyo. It would be really fun.”

Satoru’s just trying to piss you off. He knows that you’ve already picked Tokyo, because it means you don’t have to long distance date anymore. No more driving up to see each other in between, getting pulled away from each other by the constraints of time or distance or really anything else.

One of the smaller girls at the party tugs the end of your dress, whispering in her ear that she wants warm milk, which you happily oblige with. Satoru and Getou stay in their spots as you start rummaging through the kitchen, picking out a little glass and warming up the milk for her.

“Honey?”

“Yes, love?” Satoru responds, turning his gaze over to you.

You feel your eyes widen and Satoru’s face turn red as he looks over at you, realizing you were asking the girl if she wanted honey in her milk and not calling him. You both look over to Getou, who has a very strange look on his face that you can’t really discern.

Fuck.

You hand the girl her milk and stand farthest away from Satoru, giving Getou a weak smile as you all stare at the party again.

“Look. It’s Shayla.”

You and Satoru crane your necks over the other side of the room, one of your neighbors daughters saying hello to all the guests. Which you’re sure you’re getting to get a lecture about now, since you didn’t want to spend the time saying hi to all of them.

“Remember when you had a really big crush on her, Satoru? Since we were kids?”

“Uh, yeah. But I was just really little, y’know.”

You can feel your throat drying as Getou pushes on, each word making your heart burn in your chest.

“Yeah, but. She was basically your first love. Who forgets that? Who compares to that?”

“I don’t know if I would say she was my first l-”

“Then who is, Satoru? Because it’s not my sister, right?” he asks, his voice firm.

Satoru said that he would tell Getou when you officially announced you were going to Tokyo. Because once you lived in the same city, nothing would stop you from being with him - not even his best friend.

“No, no, why would it be her? She’s been annoying us since we were little, arguing with us and all that. You-you’re right. It is her. Shayla’s always been my type.” he says, his gaze lowering to the floor.

You feel your heart sink, twist into a jumbled mess as Getou smiles and gestures for her to come over. There’s a fair amount of protests from Satoru as she walks over, which you know is him trying to save face. He deals his final blow the second she walks up, definitively and wholly breaking your heart into pieces.

When Getou starts setting the two of them up. When Satoru actually takes her number down. When she presses a kiss to his cheek and winks before she walks away.

“I have to pee, Toto. Cover for me?”

“Yeah, got it.”

And the second you walk away and Getou watches you wipe the tears from your face as you walk past, Getou knows he’s right.

“Getou. You have to-”

“No, Satoru. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wait, what- you can’t just-”

“She’s my little sister. She’s not some toy you get to play around with till you figure out how you feel. And you don’t get to embarrass her by hiding her away either.”

“We were going to tell you when she told you she’s going to Tokyo. You-you’re the reason I hid her away. I’ve liked her for years and I put that away because you didn’t want me with her. And now I-”

“Don’t blame your shortcomings on me. Even if you did have to hide it in front of me, I would never call the girl I loved annoying to her face and throw everything she’s hated about herself in her face to make a point.”

“I didn’t- Getou you’re the one who made her hate that about herself and-”

“You love her?”

“Obviously. Why would I go to the trouble of hiding something when-”

“Talk to her again and I will literally break your face. In what world do you treat someone you love like that?”

As Satoru watches Getou walk away and thinks about how hard you’re crying upstairs, he realizes he’s in his worst nightmare. Losing his best friend and the girl he loved on the same day.

You and Satoru make promises that day.

He promises that he’ll wear his heart on his sleeve from this day forward. You promise that you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can ever touch it again.

present day

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Itadori says, pushing the paper into your space.

“And you suck at tic-tac-toe.” you respond, sliding it back.

Nobara and Megumi laugh as the three of you sink back into your chairs in the back of the conference room, your marketing manager droning on about stocks, the future of the company, and god knows what as you try to drone him out and focus on winning your seventh round of tic-tac-toe with Itadori. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much.

“And lastly, we’ve employed a new marketing manager to work with the sales team. The four of you back there can decide who he’s going to be working with for onboarding.” says Ijichi.

You nod as the four of you turn to each other, matching smirks on your face.

“Rock paper scissors?” Nobara asks.

“Deal.”

It’s not that you’d hate to work with the new marketing manager. But the past three marketing managers were driven out by the end of the month because of you guys.

Megumi was too harsh with the first girl, who left crying when he asked her if she got her marketing degree from a trash can. Nobara drove the second guy away when she found out he chewed too loudly while eating lunch, claiming that he wasn’t a good fit for the company. And Itadori drove the last girl away, because she fell in love with him and he didn’t return her feelings, which made her resign the next day.

“You know, logically. It’s your turn.” Megumi says, holding his fist up to Itadori.

“Nope. We honor the rock paper scissors tournament in this friendship.

You mince your words four rounds later because you’re the pouty loser getting stuck with the stupid marketing manager. You slide back into your chair as you massage your temples, preparing yourself for the upcoming headache for the next month.

Either a lover, an incompetent idiot, or a loud chewer.

Nobara and Itadori sling their hands around your shoulders, pinching your cheeks, as Ijichi swings the door open and the marketing manager walks in. He readjusts his tie - loosely hanging from his neck - and when you lift your head to actually make eye contact with him, you immediately sit up in your chair, your skin burning.

Because Satoru Gojo is no longer six thousand miles away in Tokyo - out of sight and out of mind. He’s three feet away from you - taller, older, and more attractive than the time you saw him last.

Everyone files out of the conference room, leaving the two of you standing miles away from each other, with you refusing to meet his eye. He walks up and holds his hand out, a shy smile on his face.

“Satoru Gojo.”

You put your hand in his - the touch warm, soft, all the way you remembered it.

“Y/N L/N.” you respond, mimicking his voice.

“Y/N, huh? You look more like a Belle to me.” he responds, smirking as he walks out to your cubicle labeled right across.

You stomp right out, following him into your cubicle, as he takes the seat across from yours and starts eating the candy in your jar. You roll your eyes as you smack his hand, the smile on his face so big it's pissing you off.

“Just so you know, there’s a very notorious reputation for running out the idiot who takes your position. And trust me, I’ll have you out by the end of the week.”

“Is that a challenge, princess?”

“You can’t flirt with me. I’m technically your boss, Satoru.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” he says, sticking one of your caramel candies in your mouth before pushing off your desk and making his way down the other side of the office.

Six hours later, you’re face planting into the table at dinner, the words echoing through your mind. Along with all the memories you buried deep, deep down and tried to forget. Of running off to the lake all summer, Satoru washing your hair softly in the showers after, of nestling up in his arms to call it a day.

Of Satoru rubbing circles into your back every time you fought with someone, of you kissing him after every fight he had with his dad, of whispering I love you against each other's lips like it was a sacred oath.

“You look horrible.” Megumi says, sharing a judgemental look with Itadori.

“Shut up.”

“It’s just one of those lame interns. Just do what Nobara did - say he smells bad.” Itadori responds, the three of them laughing.

You dig your forehead into your forearms, only lifting your head to drink more of Itadori’s beer, as the thoughts race through your head.

In all honesty, the problem has always been easy to avoid. Two years ago, Satoru smashed your heart into tiny pieces. You decided that you wouldn’t go to Tokyo or Kyoto like you planned and picked up everything and moved to New York instead.

You didn’t say goodbye. To him or to anyone. Your parents drove you to the airport and Getou gave one of those weird, repressed older brother hugs and then you turned on your heel and never went back.

You have a nice job. Friends who love you. Your dating life is abysmal at most - a long stream of guys you’ve ghosted, fought, and broken up with. Unfazed, unperturbed - calm, cool, and collected.

It doesn’t bother you. Because you stuck by your promise. That you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can touch it. But it only takes five minutes of interaction with him and you can feel the concrete walls around your heart turning into clay, softened by the sweetness he’s always possessed, the softness he’s always shared with you.

You have to drive him out of here as fast as you can.

Seven weeks later and Satoru remains at the company, steadfast and true.

It drives you crazy, having him around. So up in your space, his smell lingering in your cubicle even after he walks away. He makes stupid jokes that make you smile so hard that you’re fighting the tears in your eyes and flirts with no shame like it’s breathing air.

All in all, he’s everything you loved about Satoru, in your head again. In an even more attractive body, because of course time is nice to the asshole and he’s fit in all the right places.

You ignore him the best you can, until you can’t anymore.

You make it down to the parking lot, your high heels in your hand as you unlock your car and start loading your stuff into the trunk.

That’s when you see him, slumped against his car with the hood popped open, with a very, very confused look on his face. You clear your throat loudly, which catches his attention.

“Oh. Heading out late, Y/N?”

“Looks like it. You?”

“Ah. I actually meant to leave early today but my car hasn’t been starting so.”

You take one look at his pouty face and give in. You slam the trunk of your car shut and whisper the words out, so fast that you can’t even think to regret them.

“Get in the car.”

“Huh?”

“Get in the car, Satoru. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of the weekend, then be my guest.”

He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen as he all but jogs over and settles into the front seat of your car, slumping down in the seat that’s pushed all the way up. You back up out of the parking garage as he plugs in the address for his apartment, a modest thirty minutes away from the office.

“You know, you can move the chair back. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do.”

He laughs and you see his shoulders deflate as he adjusts the seat, his long legs now spread in the open compartment underneath him.

“What a shame. I’m into that type of thing, Y/N.”

“Always the perverted one, weren’t you?” you respond, smiling over at him.

Stop it, Y/N. Stop it.

“Who the hell sits up here anyway? A toddler?”

“Oh. It was just this guy I was talking to. He was really short but he always felt the need to monitor my driving so he pulled the seat all the way up to watch the lines.” you respond, turning left onto the street.

“Ah. One of your many romantic escapades, so I’m told. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the player, Y/N.” he says, leaning against the glass.

“Learned from the best, Satoru. Except this time, I don’t get overinvolved.” you respond.

He laughs, leaning back in the chair as you both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension hanging in the air eating at your skin. It hangs in the air, like an embarrassing elephant in the room.

Satoru’s the one who pokes it.

“Then, you should get involved with me. Again.”

You keep your promises to yourself. But Satoru keeps his too. An oath to wear his heart on his sleeve is translated into him fighting to get you back.

You slam the breaks so hard that his forehead goes straight into the sun visor, a groan leaving his mouth. You apologize and immediately reach forward, cupping the side of his face and eyeing the angry red mark on his forehead.

“Yikes. I’m sorry, Cyclops. That caught me off guard.”

“Be careful, there. Almost thought you cared for a second.” he says, smirking.

You park the car in front of his apartment and look out the window, the words making your head spin.

“You know, I can tell you want to.” he says.

You turn around and frown, reaching forward to flick into the soft skin of his cheek.

“Please. You’re not even all that-”

“You brushed your hand against mine when we walked to the conference room. I caught you staring at me during the company lunch on Thursday. And I know you just stopped talking to the short guy because Itadori told me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst has happened. Because for the second time, you are irrevocably and deeply in love with Satoru Gojo.

Maybe you never stopped.

Just like you were when you were seven, you’re incredibly drawn to him, like two magnets being pulled together. What was supposed to be one date, one lousy hookup like every other guy you’ve talked to in the past year turned into a complicated, mushy gushy feelings mess.

You stayed over at his house that night. But then he was shirtless, singing in the kitchen as he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. And little by little, he’s crawled into every little part of your life.

He insists on driving you to work, buying you a sugary overpriced latte you would never splurge on for yourself and a pastry to go with it on the way. He claims he doesn’t want any but reaches over the seat to take a bite and then press a chocolatey kiss to your lips.

He hangs out with you and your friends after work. And like always, he always backs you up in the thousands of petty arguments he has with each of them and then tells you that it turns him on when he drives you home.

He draws little shapes into your skin every night, asking you to guess the little drawings he’s making while his soft, smooth voice lulls you to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t help but watch him, the little freckles he had when he was seventeen still the same.

It makes your heart warm. The soft feelings you’ve always had for him, they make you warm.

Which is why you curse yourself for ever thinking things could be different, when he drops the ball three months later.

“Can you drive me to the airport on Friday, princess?” he asks, his breaths tickling your nose.

“Where are you going, Toru?” you murmur, burrowing yourself deeper into his skin.

“Home. The job posting was temporary, remember?” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“Oh. Are- you’re not going to look for a job here?’

“Nah. Time’s up right?” he says, the question hanging in the air.

And when you wake up the next morning, to find him in your kitchen with a bowl of cereal all poured out for you and a bouquet of flowers, you can’t help but yell at him. After the shit he pulled last night.

“You should probably go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. Since you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“We can do it tomorrow, Belle. Most of my stuff is here anyway.” he says, holding the bowl close to his mouth as he leans over the counter.

“I can’t take you tomorrow. Megs said he will so you can ask him for help. He-he’s actually on his way now to get you.” you murmur, crossing your hands against your chest.

He frowns, coming up close to you to wrap his arms around you which you quickly side shuffle out of. You push past him and walk into the kitchen, clutching the countertop hard. Satoru smiles to himself before he turns around, knowing he’s won the war.

“Do you want me to stay, Belle?”

You roll your eyes, the audacity of him even suggesting that just pissing you off more. Irritated, because of course he said that. Agitated, because he can read you like a book.

“No, Satoru. Go home.”

“You sure? Because it seemed like-”

“Do you really think it would bother me if you left, Satoru? Do you really think you’re different from any other guy I talked to?”

Satoru frowns, the angry look on your face the opposite of the love-struck, warm confession he was expecting. But then again, this was you. Argumentative to your core - so he just needs to wrangle it out of you.

“I know I’ve been here longer than the rest of them, that’s for sure.”

“And do you think that makes you special, Satoru? Do you sincerely, genuinely think any of that means I would want you to stay right now?”

“Well, wait- I’m not just any other guy now, you and I, we-”

“We what? Have history? A long term fling doesn’t make us soulmates, Satoru.”

“That wasn’t a fling. You and I were-”

“You and I were no different than what we are now, Satoru. You should have known to not get over involved. I told you from the start that this is how it would be. You leaving didn’t faze me the first time and it won’t faze me the second time either, sweetheart.”

Satoru moves past you, yanking his hoodie on and grabbing his key off the hook as he swings the door open. And when he shuts the door behind you, his tear-stained face being the last thing you see, you sink onto the floor and can’t help but sob.

For the first boy you ever loved. Who burned you so bad, that you burned him too. Who soothed over every angry, irritating, argumentative part of you, until it was something you unleashed on him too.

You wonder why you let yourself into these sinkholes in the first place.

“Hey, man. Have a safe flight home, okay? It was nice getting to know you.” Itadori says, lugging the last of Satoru’s luggage out of the back.

Satoru gives Itadori one last hug before Megumi starts lugging his bags into the terminal with him, the intense feelings from the day prior still hanging on his chest.

“You-you’ll take care of her right? After I’m gone?” Satoru asks, as he pulls into the line.

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“Oh. Yeah, I will. This time around though, I’m not letting Itadori and Nobara invite her to the bar.”

Satoru smiles, the thought of you drunk, making his heart ache. One of his many favorite sights is you on your fourth glass of wine - when your lips are all pink and when you climb all over him, whispering the corniest, cheesiest things that come to mind.

“Princess. You’re kind of cutting off my circulation here.”

“Sss-sorry, Satoru. Wanted to get closer.” you whisper, tangling your arms around his neck and readjusting in his lap.

“What’s closer than this princess? You’re literally on top of me right now.” he responds, cupping your face to push the hair away from your face.

“Not close enough.”

“The only thing closer than this is if you crawled into my skin and became a part of my bloodstream.”

“Is there a way to do that? Because I would.”

“You wanna be that close to me, huh princess?”

“Even when I’m sitting right next to you, right on top of you, literally skin to skin - I still can’t get enough of you. I want to be this close, all the time.”

Satoru shakes the memory from his mind as the people behind him gesture him to move forward in line, his heart hanging heavier in his chest.

“She always drinks too much, doesn’t she?” he says.

“Well, yeah. It’s usually funny. But now she’s going to go back into her moping, angsty teenager phase for the next seven months. I’ll probably be dragging her out of that bar on her legs, for all I know.”

“Y/N? Angsty? That’s real funny.”

“No, I’m telling you. When we first met her, all this girl did was cry in the bar. Her sadness was like…contagious or whatever it was making me depressed. One time she sang All Too Well, on the countertop while sobbing until the bartender literally had to kick her ass out.”

“The first guy she dated when she moved here was that bad, huh?”

“No. Itadori and Nobara have this running theory, they’ve been trying to figure out who he is for a while. The one thing we know for sure is that he’s definitely from her hometown and that she broke up with him right before she moved here.”

And that’s when Satoru gets it. That you’re a goddamn liar. And that you definitely did want him to stay.

Satoru does the only thing he can. Drops everything and runs straight out the airport to make his way back to your apartment. He’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice.

You look up from your spot, sprawled on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor, when you hear a key turn in the lock. You immediately sit up to find Satoru, an almost angry look on his face, when he storms in and bends down in front of you.

“Forget your diapers, grandpa?”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“It’s a long flight. You don’t want to have an accident do you?”

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing hard so you can’t get another word. And what he says next, the same words he uttered to you in that stupid lake, sober you u pearl fast.

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?”

You swallow hard as he gives you a satisfied smile, giving him a soft nod.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“God, Satoru. Just quit it with this shit, I already told you no and I mean-”

“You also told me that it didn’t faze you when we broke up the first time. But then I find out, you were slurring my name in bars and crying about it for months.”

“So? Do you want a cookie or something?”

“So you’re a liar. And now I want to know the truth. Do you want me to stay?”

His eyes are burning, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. The gaze itself is piercing, making the ends of your hair stand up on your arms and legs. You shake his hand off your face as you stand up, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen.

“I don’t want you to stay.”

“Yes, you do. You’re lying, Y/N.”

“No, I’m not. One measly piece of information my friends mention in passing doesn’t mean it’s about you, Satoru.”

He brings his hands around your wrist, curling his fingers around the skin and squeezing twice.

“I made the dumbest mistake of my life. I had an opportunity, a real one to be honest about how I felt and I fucked it up, okay? I’ve regretted it every day since you walked away. You were going to go to school - with me. We were going to be together. But then you picked up everything and move to the other side of the fucking planet to halfheartedly date all these guys without a care in the world.”

“What does stating facts do for you, Satoru? What is it you want me to say?”

“You know what I want to hear. Say it, Belle.”

“What? That I left because of you? That I loved you so much that it made my heart hurt? That every second I’m around you it only feels like my love gets bigger for you? That the only person I can’t bring myself to get over is you? Because what does me saying that do for me because you’re just going to-”

Satoru smiles before he closes the space between you, pushing you into the counter and cradling your cheeks in his hand. He’s leaning into the kiss, so hard that you can feel almost his entire body weight on you as his lips press against yours.

He’s shaking hard and smiling into the kiss, pulling you back in every time you try to stop, his hands running in your hair as he laughs into your mouth.

“Was it so hard to tell me that you wanted me to stay?” he whispers, giggling into your ear as he presses kisses into your neck.

“Was it so hard to tell me you wanted to? You just had to come have this big moment with me here when-”

“Yes, I did. You deserved a big, lengthy love confession when you were seventeen, at that stupid party. I’m trying to do right by you through this dramatic shit now.”

“Because this is doing right by me? Making me cry and then running back?”

“It’s romantic, princess. I ran out of an airport for you.”

“After we argued. That kind of puts a damper on it.”

“Oh, shut up. You know argumentative girls have always been my thing.”

You place your hands around his face, yanking his head out of the crook of your neck as you hold his face in your hands, the skin soft. He still has all the little freckles, the same eyes and nose that you loved when you were seventeen.

That you love. You love him.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you get a key to my house?”

He rolls his eyes as he breaks out of your hold, sticking his tongue out at you.

“That would have been a really sweet moment for a confession. You ruined it, princess.”

You smile as you make your way into his arms again, looking up at him from his hold.

“I made a copy of your key, Y/N.”

“That’s illegal, Toru. Breaking and entering.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. Everyone has their vices.”

You bring your hands back up to his cheeks again, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks as you press a kiss to the side of his cheek.

“Isn’t love the greatest vice, Toru?” you whisper.

“Maybe for me. Every normal thing hits different when it comes to you.” he says, closing the space between you two again.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

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loversj0y · 10 months

Text

id meet you where the spirit meets the bones

inspired by @lillylvjy's ghost au! go give it a read and give lilly some love!!

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: death, lots of talks about death, reader cries a few times, nightmares, reader nearly dies, stalking, body horror, slightly suggestive stuff (wilbur is flirty af)

word count: 13k. i am not sorry

note: this has not been edited/beta read at all. also i know jack shit about ghosts tbh aside from the light pagan/spirit work i used to do so. dont take any of the ghostly advice here seriously its all for spooky vibes and ambiance. also if anyone can notice the red flags i include at a Specific Section i will give u a smooch, title taken from ivy by taylor swift

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng, @core-queen

You didn’t believe in ghosts. You weren't strong in this opinion, it was just a matter of not believing everything you saw on the internet. You never had any personal experiences with ghosts yourself, so you had no reason to actually believe in them.

While this didn’t mean a lot, it did mean that the house everyone avoided on the corner was about to be yours.

You knew the stories and the warnings:

Be careful! You know they say those boys haunt those walls!

It was brutal what happened here, are you sure it’s safe?

Good luck! They say those who move in there either leave dead or never leave!

Honestly, it didn’t deter you. A brutal murder of two brothers in the 90s should have scared you. However, you went in for a showing, and the place seemed perfectly fine. It was the cheapest place you could buy, and you couldn’t stand having a landlord anymore. Ghosts are miles better than landlords, at least they live in the place and don’t just act like they do.

You took the deal. The move in process was pretty easy, too. You borrowed a work friend’s truck, and you and her brought in some of your heavier furniture (your old mattress, the couch you bought on Facebook, the TV you got from a friend who couldn’t take it with him), and the rest of the boxes you and her just piled into the living room. You thanked her, paying her for her help as well, and then it was just you, standing in your new, box-filled living room.

You took a deep breath as you looked around, almost stunned by the stillness of the room. You’d never actually lived on your own before, always some family or roommate with you, so it was… almost uncomfortable to see an empty room with no sound.

The silence was broken after a moment, though, your phone ringing loudly from the kitchen counter. You walked over and answered, starting to unpack as you spoke on the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie, how’s the move going?” It was your mum, voice kind and welcoming.

“It’s good, mum,” you chuckled, opening up your first box of kitchenware, “Working on boxes now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” You could hear her smile through the phone. “The place is nice?”

“Yeah, the house is really nice,” you carefully shifted some pots into the back of the cabinet, “it’s an older house, but it’s lovely. The backyard is really pretty too, I think you’d love it. Really peaceful.”

“Oh, love, not to be rude, but I don’t imagine I’ll be coming there anytime soon.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like the drive.”

“Well, yes, but…” you could hear the apprehension in her voice, “sweetie, you’ve heard about this… place you’re living in, of course. I’m not sure how safe it is.”

You chuckled, standing up fully and leaning against the kitchen counter, “Never took you for a believer in ghosts, mum.”

The air felt a bit tense around you.

“Well, when you’re my age, sweetheart, you’d rather not test your luck.”

That brought a laugh out of you, “Mum, you don’t look a day over thirty.” You smiled, looking around the house a bit. “Besides, have you even heard the full story?”

“I’ve heard about the brutal murder part, but I suppose not much else.”

“It was two boys,” you sighed softly, “Eighteen and twenty-six. If ghosts are even real, I don’t imagine they’d want to cause much trouble. If anything, they’d probably be scared.”

A rattling sound came from your left, causing you to falter in your words. You walked to see the source of the noise, quickly noticing a few of the pots still in the box had shifted, presumably having fallen over.

You continued speaking easily, “I mean, god, mum, imagine dying and being forced to live in the place you were killed while seeing tens of people move into your home. I’d be confused and scared too.”

“I suppose,” you heard your mother reply, and it felt like some of the tension left the room. “Either way, just promise me, you’ll be safe? If anything seems amiss, I can call my sister-“

“Oh, god, mum, Aunt Cate couldn’t tell a ghost from a sock, I’d rather not have her in here spewing her Catholic bullshit.”

Your mother laughed, and it made some of the homesickness fade a bit, “Fair enough, dearie. Listen, I’ve got to run, but call me tomorrow, please?”

“I will, mum. I love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

The line hung up, and you sighed softly, hanging your head for a moment. It felt too quiet already. You opened up Spotify, choosing some random playlist and continuing your work with unpacking. You played some soft indie music, gentle but upbeat guitar flowing from your phone's speaker as you finished unpacking your kitchen. You started working on the living room items, small knick knacks and photos being arranged carefully.

As you cleaned, the playlist took a bit of a wild turn. Instead of the soft plucking of a guitar, the next song starts, and you’re immediately stunned by the sound of some electronic-sounding music. You walked over to your phone which — you didn’t remember leaving it unlocked — was playing a song called “Able Sisters”. From Animal Crossing. Very odd choice. It wasn’t bad though, so you pretty much just shrugged it off, going back to unpacking.

Nothing else weird really occurred that night, and you wouldn’t even consider the music thing that weird. It just was technology being weird. You ordered food, sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching a movie while you ate. After you ate, you cleaned up after yourself and became acutely aware of how you felt far more Adult than you ever had before. You sat back down and relaxed for the first time all day. You were curled into the side of the couch, and to your surprise, you actually didn’t feel very alone. You figured by now you’d be going through your contacts, calling anyone just to feel like there was another person with you. It wasn’t long before you’d fallen asleep, and if you woke up with a blanket around you that certainly hadn’t been near you the night before, you didn’t notice.

You finished your move-in process with little hassle. By the end of the week, you were pretty much completely moved in, save for a few boxes that you had to bring up to the attic. You began to understand why people thought the house was creepy, especially with the amount of creaks and noises you’d hear throughout the day, but given the age of the house, it didn’t bother you.

You carried the boxes upstairs, opening the door to the attic and stacking them up in the corner. You looked around at the attic, smiling softly. There were signs that the attic was lived in, and it was actually kind of nice to see. There were a few things that had been left behind from past owners, and you walked around, taking a look at some of the items. There were a few boxes with things like old clothes, and from looking at them, it hit you that these weren’t any items that had been left behind, but rather the items left behind by the two dead boys’ family. It sent a shiver down your back, but it made you more sad than scared. You went back to one of your boxes, pulling out an old candle and a spare box of matches. There was a small table in the corner of the room, and you set the candle down, lighting it.

Even though you didn’t think there was anyone here, you still spoke outloud, “it’s not much, but I hope it’s something.”

You went back to looking through some of their items, trying to find anything that seemed important to add to the corner table. It relieved you to see that most of the items were non-sentimental items. There were no photos or family heirlooms that had been left behind, just normal items. You did find some smaller objects that you could add to the small table, though, like a red beanie and two CDs. You walked around the small attic a bit more, smiling at an acoustic guitar you found stashed behind some of the boxes. You were shocked by the lack of dust, but it was even more shocking that the guitar was in tune. You didn’t know how to play much except for a few simple chords, so it was at least nice to know there was one up here.

The next object you found was also hidden. It was stashed in the very corner, hidden in a small crevice between paneling in the wall. It was a small compass. You held it up to the light, gently trying to clean some debris off of it. The weird thing happened when you turned the compass over, noticing a small engraving on the back. Before you could read it, though, the compass flew out of your hand, hitting the wall before rolling back into the crevice that you’d found it.

Okay. Definitely weird. You felt your opinion of whether or not ghosts existed being swayed.

“Okay,” you said, backing up a bit, “Sorry. I won’t touch it again.”

You spoke simply. If ghosts were real, you still did believe that they’d probably be more scared than anything, especially if someone was touching their things. And there wasn’t a problem until you’d touched the compass, so you figured that must’ve been something important. If it was something important, you didn’t want to mess with it. It wasn’t yours, point-blank. So, instead, you went back to cleaning up the attic, sorting through boxes and neatly arranging them, and adding small things you’d find to the table in the corner. By the time you finished it was nearly dinner, so you carefully put out the candle (not wanting it to be burning unsupervised) and went downstairs to make dinner.

The few days past that went by with pretty much no weirdness. You truly weren’t sure what to believe now. You almost thought yourself crazy, but it was probably just a side effect of not having left the house since you’d moved in. You had work today, though. It was your first day back, and for whatever reason, you felt nervous. You definitely seemed it too. You nearly burnt your breakfast, cursing and fretting around the kitchen, a slight shake to your hands. You chose an outfit for the day, setting it on the bed. You rushed to take a shower, leaving the bathroom humid and steamy. You got dressed and finished making yourself look presentable before making some coffee to bring with you to work. You kept fretting with your hair and fidgeting. You walked back to the bathroom, trying to double check your hair. The mirror was still fogged up, causing you to groan.

Instead, though, you felt your brain short-circuit as you leaned back and words started slowly appearing on the foggy of the mirror.

‘Don’t worry. You look amazing.’

A blush rose to your cheeks as you took a moment to process.

Ghosts?

Yeah. Ghosts.

Nice one, though, at the very least. You weren’t exactly going to scream and run when the compliment did actually help relax you a bit.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, focusing on the matter at hand a bit more.

“Can you write your name, if you don’t mind? I’d like to know who I’m living with.” The question felt a bit risky, especially since this was the first time you’d gotten proper confirmation that he existed.

‘Wilbur. And the other one is Tommy.’

You nodded, “Well, thank you, Wilbur.” You thought for a moment before your phone alarm went off, letting you know you had to leave for work. You cursed, sighing, “Okay, I have to go, but I’d like to talk more when I get back. Is that possible?”

You awaited a response, and you got one after a moment.

‘:)’

Okay. That’s good. At least you think it is.

You nodded, pulling your bag up on your shoulder before walking to the door. You paused at the door, turning back,

“Bye, Wilbur. Bye, Tommy. I’ll be home later!” you spoke out into the empty room, hoping they were there to hear it, before rushing out the door to work.

Work was uneventful for the most part. A few coworkers asked about your new place, asking if you’d heard any ghosts or creepy things. You decided to lie, telling them that you hadn’t experienced anything. The last thing you’d wanted was people somehow confirming the existence of ghosts and either considering you crazy or trying to make a spectacle of the boys. It was bad enough that they weren’t allowed to move on in the afterlife, you didn’t want to make things worse for them.

You did spend quite a bit of your freetime at work looking things up about ghosts, however. Most of the stuff you found was pretty fake from the looks of it, but honestly, up until you’d moved in, you never even thought about if ghosts were real or not. You found a lot of potentially good information too, though, about pendulums and spirit boards and how to make them at home.

When you got home, you opened the door slowly, humming as you walked in, “Hi, Tommy. Hi, Wilbur. I’m home.” There was a smile on your face. You didn’t get much of a response, not that you were really expecting one, but there was a knocking that let you know you were at least heard.

You went to your room, grabbing an old necklace. It was a simple necklace, a thin silver chain and a small guitar pendant. You also grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. After a moment, you had an idea as well, printing out a morse code guide. You sat down in front of your coffee table, writing out a circle with ‘Yes’, ‘No’, and ‘Maybe’ written along opposite sides of the circle. You also put the morse code sheet next to you, sighing softly. Okay, communing with the dead. This is nothing. Sure. You can do this.

“So, if you’re ready, and want to communicate, can you move the pendant to yes?” You asked outloud, holding up your necklace over the circle. After a moment, the pendant started swinging to ‘yes’, and you took a slow breath.

“Okay, so for yes and no, we can use this. If you want to elaborate, you can knock with the morse code here, and I can work it out. Does that work?”

Once again, the pendant swung to yes.

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Who am I talking to right now? Is this Wilbur? Or Tommy?”

You got no response from the pendant. Instead, you heard knocking on the table, and you started scribing the knocking.

‘-... --- - ....’

You looked down at the sheet. ‘Both’.

You nodded, thinking for a moment, “Is it okay that I’m here?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’, and you let out a soft breath of relief.

“Are you guys okay? I mean, it-it’s probably scary being stuck as ghosts and such, so…”

There was a long pause before you got any response.

‘.. / .- -- / -. --- - / ... -.-. .- .-. . -.. / .. / .- -- / .- / -... .. --. / -- .- -.’

‘I AM NOT SCARED I AM A BIG MAN’

Before you could even respond, there was more knocking.

‘... --- .-. .-. -.-- --..-- / - .... .- - / .-- .- ... / - --- -- -- -.-- .-.-.- / .-- . .----. .-. . / --- -.- .- -.-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... --..-- / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / -- --- ... - / .--. .- .-. - .-.-.-’

‘sorry, that was Tommy. We're okay though, for the most part.’

You chuckled softly, “That’s good to hear. Sorry, Tommy, I didn’t mean any offense.”

‘.. - .----. ... / ..-. .. -. . .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / - --- ..- -.-. .... / -- -.-- / -.-. --- -- .--. .- ... ... / .- --. .- .. -. --..-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... .-.-.-’

‘IT'S FINE. DON'T TOUCH MY COMPASS AGAIN, THOUGH.’

“Oh, of course,” you hummed, “if you want, I can set up an area in the attic for you guys to keep more private things. Two areas, actually, so you guys have your own space. Does that work?”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’ incredibly fast, and you chuckled.

“Alright, good to hear, then. Speaking of, is there anything you guys want me to do differently? Or maybe that you want me to stop doing?”

There was another long pause.

‘-. --- .. ... .��

‘Noise.’

“Noise?”

‘.-- . .----. .-. . / -- --- .-. . / ... . -. ... .. - .. ...- . / - --- / .-.. --- ..- -.. / -. --- .. ... . ... / -. --- .-- .-.-.-’

‘We’re more sensitive to loud noises now.’

You nodded, “Okay. When I put on the TV or music, just knock and I can turn it down. Or, if you’re able to, you can turn it down yourself. I’m not sure what I can do about my alarm, though… I need them loud to wake up.”

‘.-- . / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..-’

‘WE COULD WAKE YOU’

“You could?”

‘.. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. .-.-.- / -.. --- / -. --- - / .-.. . - / - --- -- -- -.-- / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... .-. . .- -.- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. .-.-.-’

‘I could. Do not let Tommy wake you. He will break something.’

You giggled a bit, nodding, “Alright. Sure. I don’t have work tomorrow, so we can test it out, and if not, we can see what else we could do.”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’, and you hummed happily.

“Alright, if that’s everything, then I’m going to make dinner. But, if you need to get my attention, just knock three times. Or if you have a better way, you can do that too, but still. This is your home before it was mine, and I want to make it be comfortable for you both. You guys are more just like… my ghost roommates. Okay?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’ once again before you gently set it down.

You stood, going to the kitchen before speaking again, “Oh, and if you want to use anything that’s in the living room, feel free. I don’t mind. If it’s something in my room, just ask first.”

You turned on some music as you started cooking, keeping it low for their sake. You were in your element when you cooked, finding comfort in the motions as you thought about today. Ghosts were real. It was not something you could be indifferent to anymore. Ghosts are real, and not just that, you also lived with two of them. It was actually nice, though. You didn’t feel alone, at least.

You hummed to yourself as you cooked, leaning up on your tiptoes to try and grab a plate from one of the top shelves. You struggled, nearly dropping the plate before it carefully was lifted, seeming to float down from the shelf. Even if you couldn’t see the ghost, you could feel how close he was to you as he gently set the plate down on the counter.

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, cheeks tinted pink. You smiled, once again feeling relieved by the fact that you weren’t alone. In a house known for being scary, you’d never felt safer.

You finished the rest of dinner with ease, taking a plate and walking back to the living room. When you walked back in, you noticed something interesting. The seat on the far left of the couch, while still empty, had your Rubix cube floating, turning occasionally. You chuckled softly, sitting to the far right to eat your dinner. You looked back at the Rubix cube, trying to figure out which one was playing with it.

“Is there anyway for me to tell the difference between you both? Since I can’t see you?”

The Rubix cube paused in it’s movements, and for a moment, you almost wondered if you scared them off.

After a moment, the pendant you had been using earlier lifted, and you watched as the necklace floated to presumably be placed around a neck.

‘.-- .. .-.. -... ..- .-.’

You looked down at the paper. ‘Wilbur.’

You nodded, understanding quickly. “Hold on, I’ll get one for you, Tommy.” You set the plate down, hurrying back to your room and grabbing another old necklace. This one was simpler, a thin black chord with a small silver dog-tag on it.

You walked back in, moving towards the Rubix cube, “Here, Tommy.”

You felt a cold tingle on your hand as the necklace lifted, slowly being arranged around his neck as well. To you, it was just two floating necklaces. However, it gave you enough distinction that you could at least tell who was who.

You smiled, sitting back down to finish eating. You turned on a movie, though you didn’t pay too much attention. You were incredibly aware of the two ghosts sitting next to you. It was Wilbur sitting next to you and next to him was Tommy. It was almost weird how comfortable you felt with them here. Even if they’d been here the entire time, it was different now that there was actual confirmation that they were here. You didn’t know anything about ghosts. You felt completely out of your element. You knew that they could interact with the environment, since they could pick stuff up and put things on, but you didn’t know what else they could do. Could they make noises? Could they become full-blow apparitions? As little as you knew, you felt worried about asking. It took a few days just for them to actually let you know they existed. The last thing you wanted to do was scare them away in their own home.

Could they even leave if they wanted to? People only ever spoke about them being here in the place they were killed. They probably wouldn’t even want to stay here if they had a choice. It made you upset to think about, the fact that they may not have a choice in this whatsoever. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to yell or cry or hug them because of it.

You stood up and cleaned your plate, chewing on your lip while you did. You wished you could help them. If they wanted it. That was another thing you had to consider. Maybe they were happy here. You didn’t know, honestly, and you wanted to know. For now you wouldn’t ask, though. Maybe, hopefully, when you got closer with them.

You walked back over to the couch, sitting back where you had been before. The TV had changed to some ghost show, and it almost made you laugh. You went to grab the remote, but knocking stopped you.

‘- .... .- - / .. ... / -. --- - / .-- .... .- - / .. - / .. ... / .-.. .. -.- . --..-- / - .... . ... . / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- .. -. / .-- .-. --- -. --. ..- -. …’

‘THAT IS NOT WHAT IS IT LIKE, THESE FUCKIN WRONGUNS,’

You snorted, chuckling a bit, “Yeah. Most of these ghost hunting shows are completely made up.” You looked, noting that it was Tommy who had moved. “They fake everything, so they can keep making money, Tommy. It’s stupid. They’ve probably caused more harm than anything else.”

‘- .... .- - .----. ... / -.. ..- -- -... .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / .--- ..- ... - / .- ... -.- / ..-. .. .-. ... - --..-- / .- - / .-.. . .- ... - / - --- / -... . / .... --- -. . ... - / .- -... --- ..- - / .. - .-.-.-.’

‘THAT’S DUMB. THEY SHOULD JUST ASK FIRST, AT LEAST BE HONEST ABOUT IT.’

You sighed, nodding, “I agree. I mean, if there are ghosts there, they’re probably just annoying them. Or even worse, they’re probably scaring them.”

You got no response to that, deciding instead to change the channel to something more lighthearted.

You started getting tired, and you grabbed your blanket, pulling it over your legs. You spread it out as well, letting it cover both of the boys as well. You noticed and looked curiously as you could “see” their legs through the blanket. Obviously, it was just the outline of their – bodies? Ghost form? God, it was starting to confuse you a bit. You chuckled a bit when you noticed, though, smiling softly. At least you weren’t going completely crazy.

You leaned back a bit, leaning your legs on the coffee table as you watched the TV. You felt the cushion behind you shift slightly, a cold and tingly feeling coming across your shoulders. You looked to your right, seeing Wilbur’s necklace shift a bit. Huh. Did he- was his arm around your shoulder?

You felt yourself flush a bit, leaning into the sensation. The tingling feeling went away slowly, and you felt yourself relaxing more and more. It didn’t take much longer before you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were in your bed. You didn’t remember how you got there. What you did wake up to, though, was a gentle shaking and a chill on your arm. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with the sight of a floating necklace. You almost laughed out of absurdity, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“Good morning to you too, Wilbur,” you chuckled, slowly sitting up. “Thanks for waking me.”

You stretched, and the only reply you got was a gentle knocking on your nightstand. There was no pattern or morse code used, just a few taps to let you know he was responding.

You stood and got started with your morning, and you noted the soft sound of the necklace Wilbur wore as he followed you out to the living room. It was harder to spot Tommy. What wasn’t hard to spot was the girl sitting in your living room.

“Uh… hello?” You asked, and the girl’s head whipped around to see you.

“Oh! Sorry! Tommy let me in.”

… What? “What? He did?”

She stood, walking over to you, outstretching her hand, “I’m Molly.”

You shook her hand, nodding, “Nice to meet you. Wait- I’m sorry- you know Tommy?”

She nodded quickly, and you noted a light blush on her face, “Yeah. I’ve been visiting this house for a long time, so I’ve known Wilbur and Tommy for a while. Tommy and I are really close.”

You nodded slowly, “Right. Okay. I didn’t realize they had friends.”

“Tom and I are a bit closer than that,” she blushed darker, rubbing the back of her neck, “Wait, you know about them, too. And you’re staying here?” “Yeah. It’s their house, I’m just living in it,” you shrugged. “You and Tommy are… dating?”

“Essentially. Sorry about just coming in, he said you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s alright. I mean, bit of a scary way to wake up, to be honest, but if he trusts you, and you do this often, then I’m sure you mean no harm.”

She smiled, “I really don’t. I just liked giving them company at first, and then Tommy and I got closer, so…” the blush returned, and she leaned back into what you assumed were Tommy’s arms, now that you noticed his necklace behind her.

“Alright. Cool. As long as you don’t break shit, I don’t mind.”

Molly nodded quickly, “of course! I usually can’t stay long anyways. I just like stopping by on my way to work or when I have a day off from classes.”

“Alright,” you nodded, walking to the kitchen, “well, if you ever want, I can clean up the spare room for you to stay in if you need it. Do you want any coffee?”

“I’m good, thank you, though.” Molly smiled, moving to sit back on the couch. Wilbur was still behind you as you started brewing coffee, and you could faintly feel his hand on your back.

You grabbed a notepad, holding out a pen for Wilbur and whispering to him, “So, they’re dating?”

‘Yep. She’s really nice.’

You nodded, humming softly, “She seems so. Do you like her?”

‘Yeah. She’s good for Tommy. He would get pretty lonely when it was just me here and everyone else would leave due to us being here. Plus, it’s funny to watch him get flustered whenever she comes around.’

You chuckled, nodding. “Alright. I’m glad he has someone then. Are there others? Do you have anyone?”

‘There were others. We don’t know what happened to most of them since they all pretty much just stopped coming around. But if you’re asking if I’m single, darling, I’m very much available ;)’

You flushed, turning to grab your coffee, “I- I just meant if I should expect any other visitors or anything.” You took a sip as he replied.

‘Nope. Just her. And don’t get shy on me now, love. You’re too cute to hide your face from me.’

You choked on your coffee, face turning a beet red as you coughed.

Molly ran in, looking at you with concern, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, giving her a meek thumbs up as you calmed down, “‘m fine.” You coughed a bit more, slowly taking in a breath.

Molly looked down at the notepad, grinning after a moment, “Ohh, I see. You’ve caught Wilbur’s attention, then?”

“Guess so,” you rubbed the back of your neck, a blush still resting on your cheeks.

“No wonder he seemed so happy when he talked about you.” She giggled, turning.

“Wait- talked about me? You can hear them?”

She turned back, looking a bit confused, “Uh, yeah. I’m actually shocked they haven’t spoken to you yet. Though, it took them a long while before they started talking back to me too, so I guess it makes sense.”

“So, they can speak then?”

She snorted, “Yeah. Of course they can. Do you- you don’t know much about ghosts, do you?” You shook your head slowly, “I didn’t even know if they were real before this.”

“Oh,” she hummed, “Well, as I’m sure you know now, they are very real. Tom and Wilbur and most ghosts are really cool. They’re just kind of doing their own thing. Some can be less than friendly, but don’t worry about them too much.”

You nodded as you listened, “How do you know so much about this?”

She shrugged, “I’ve been talking with ghosts since I was a kid.”

“Huh. Alright, well, you clearly know more about it than I do. Anything you can tell me, I’d be glad to hear.”

She thought for a moment, “Tommy’s favorite color is red. And Wilbur’s is teal,” she perked up, “Oh! And Tommy’s birthday is April 9th, and Wilbur’s is September 14th,” she smiled. “It’s probably best if they tell you more about themselves, though.”

You nodded, “Right, well, thank you, though.”

She grinned, “Of course. Have fun with Wilbur,” she giggled, and it made your cheeks flush once again as she walked back out to the living room.

You took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. Wilbur was still by you, and you watched as the pen lifted once more.

‘Didn’t mean to make you choke. Sorry for taking your breath away ;)’

You snorted softly, “Oh, you very well meant it. But I don’t mind.”

‘Oh? Good to know then. I am glad you’re okay, though. Don’t need three ghosts in one place.’

For some reason, him wanting you to be okay made you flush more than any of his actual flirting.

A few weeks had gone by, and now, you had fallen into a comfortable routine. Wilbur was always ready to flirt, it seemed, whether it be through morse code, notes left around your house, or by using your phone to play romantic songs. It was really nice. Your week always followed a similar pace, you’d go to work on the weekdays, spend time with the boys when you got home, and Molly would come over on Saturday mornings and most of Sunday to hang out with you and Wilbur, but mostly Tommy. You learned more about her, learning that she was going to a University nearby, and that she’d moved to this town a few years back, where she quickly started visiting the boys after learning about the rumors of them in town. You learned more about Wilbur and Tommy too. Wilbur liked indie music and cats. Tommy liked songs that reminded him of being alive and video games, watching them and playing them if he could. You really enjoyed your routine, and you had grown to genuinely care about them.

The first time you hear Wilbur’s voice was an accident. It was late, about three A.M., and you couldn’t sleep. It was a weekend, thankfully, but you couldn’t stand just sitting there in the dark anymore. You got up, walking around the living room when you heard soft music playing. Curiously, you walked up towards the attic where the sound was coming from. You could make out the sounds of a guitar, and from outside the door, you could hear singing. And my god, it was beautiful. He had a soft voice, melodic but not too deep. After listening for a moment, you opened the door, searching for the sound.

While you didn’t see him, you saw the guitar perched up, so you knew it was Wilbur. You walked in slowly, as if treading on eggshells.

“Your voice is really lovely,” you spoke softly, standing in front of the chair Wilbur was on.

It was silent before you heard his actual speaking voice.

“Darling, what are you doing up? It’s late.”

You took a deep breath upon hearing his voice properly for the first time. “Couldn’t sleep, and I heard music, so I got curious, I guess,” You sat down in front of him, “You’re speaking. I’m sorry if I wasn’t meant to hear you, I just…” you couldn’t really think up more of an explanation, shrugging.

“it’s alright. I was mostly just trying to spare you from hearing Tommy talk your ear off,” he chuckled, and if his singing wasn’t melodic enough, his laugh alone definitely was.

You chuckled, smiling softly, “Well, I’ll make sure to be prepared for that in the morning.”

He chuckled once more, “Good. He’ll be wanting to say a lot now that he can.” He hummed softly, “do you want me to play for you? Since you can’t sleep?”

“That would be really nice,” you smiled, rubbing at your eyes a bit.

“Alright. Let’s go to your room then? It’s probably far more comfortable than sitting up here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to disturb you too much or anything.”

He nodded, “I only came up here so I wouldn’t wake you. Come on,” you watched as the necklace and guitar lifted, signifying that he’d stood up. You and him walked back to your room quietly, and you laid back down once you got there. You felt the bed dip next you, and you saw the guitar shift into a playing position. He started playing, and you heard him start singing once again. His gentle sounds quickly lulled you into sleep.

And if you woke up feeling a bit colder than usual, and more specifically a cold spot where an arm would have wrapped around your waist, neither of you mentioned it.

Tommy did talk your ear off that morning, excited to finally be able to talk to you, making comments about how “he’d wanted to talk to you weeks ago” and that “he’d only kept quiet because Wilbur said he had to.” Communication was a lot easier now that they felt comfortable speaking to you. There was a consequence to hearing them now, though. Wilbur’s flirting only got more bold. When you’d get ready for work, he’d always meet you outside your room with a smart comment about how “lucky those coworkers of yours are if they get to see you looking like that all day”. It was interesting, though, the little things you’d noticed about him. He was always more flirty during the daytime, but once it was night, he was more soft. You’d grown used to the chilled feeling that comes from his arms wrapping around you as he whispered about how glad he was that you’d stayed.

He didn’t really sleep. Neither of them needed it, but you found that Tommy liked to, so you always kept the bed in the spare room neat for him. While Wilbur didn’t like to sleep, he was protective of you. It was a bit odd at first that he wanted to be with you when you’d slept, but you found a great deal of comfort in feeling the chill from him pressed against you while you slept. Especially on some nights like tonight.

It wasn’t often you got nightmares anymore. They grew less frequent when Wilbur would hold you in your sleep, but he didn’t always do that every night. You didn’t know what he did when he wasn’t here with you, but you weren’t going to ask. He deserved his privacy, after all. Despite it, you did always miss the feeling of his arms around you. He wasn’t with you when you’d gone to bed.

You woke up screaming. Within seconds, you were pressed against your headboard, head pressed in your hands while you sobbed and gasped for breath, thumb placed on your pulse point. Tommy actually arrived first, your door flinging open and his necklace swinging wildly.

Before he had time to react, Wilbur was rushing in quickly behind him, going straight for you. You felt his arms wrap around you tightly, and the cold did a great deal to shock you out of the panic, leaving you just sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, though it took you a second to process how he was positioned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered softly, “you’re right here, you’re with us, it’s okay.”

You leaned into his reassurance. Eventually, you felt more movement on the bed, and Tommy’s hand rested on your back gently as both boys helped you calm down. Your hands gripped onto the feeling of soft fabric that you couldn’t see.

Wilbur continued to whisper reassurances and reminders that you were okay and that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. When you stopped crying, Wilbur slowly helped you lay back down, never letting go of you for a second. He didn’t want you to think you were alone, even for a second.

You were exhausted when he laid you down, still wrapped in his arms. Your eyes opened, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of a faded blue sweater through bleary, tear-stained eyes. You didn’t think about it too long, and instead you went to bed in Wilbur’s arms with Tommy next to you, falling asleep quickly from the exhaustion.

(When you woke up, you basically had to wrestle to get out of bed between Wilbur holding you close and Tommy’s limbs strewn out over the two of you. But with a bit of wrangling, you chose to stay in bed and wouldn’t have changed it for the world.)

While your routine was good, there were still some rougher days. Work could go so well before things went wrong. Like today, when you’d fucked up an assignment and proceeded to get yelled at by your boss for about thirty minutes before hiding to cry in the bathroom. You calmed yourself down enough to at least look like you hadn’t cried, using some cold water to calm the redness down your face. You walked home slowly, opening the door, and you were quickly met with Wilbur’s voice chiming out from the living room.

“Welcome home, darling! How was work?”

You dropped your bag at the door, shrugging, “Eh. It was honestly quite shit. For now, I just want to relax a bit.”

He chuckled, “Well, I’ve got some ideas to help you relax.”

Instead of getting flustered, or having any major reaction, you just smiled flatly, sighing a bit. You could feel his concern, sighing again, “I’ll be fine, Wilbur. Just a bad day.”

You walked to your room, grabbing a notebook and a pencil case in the hopes that some drawing would calm you down. You walked back out to the living room, sitting on the couch next to Tommy, who was playing with your Rubix cube again. Wilbur walked over and stood in front of you, and you could feel his eyes on you as you set down your pencil case.

One of the more endearing habits that Tommy had was how he only liked his things near him. He always wanted his space to be the exact way he put things, and he would complain, loudly, if you moved things whatsoever. The most often way he complained? He would just smack things. Just completely push them out of his space and across the room.

And he did that now. You watched as you went to grab a pencil, and before you could, he smacked the pencil case across the room so hard it slammed against the wall before hitting the floor.

“Tommy!” Wilbur chastised, but before he could actually get on his case, you burst out laughing.

Full, genuine laughing, your eyes closing . Your life was so bizarre already, what with the whole living with ghosts thing. And after an absolutely shitty day, one of them just smacked your entire pencil case against the wall just because it was slightly too close to him. It was bizarre and weird and absurd, but it was your life.

You laughed until your ribs were tired. When your eyes opened again, still crinkled at the sides, you were met with a sight, to say the least.

You saw Wilbur. You saw him. He was looking back at you, face flushed and staring at you in awe. Holy shit.

“...Wilbur?”

He looked startled by the fact you made eye contact with him, and he struggled to find words. But god, he was gorgeous. Thick curly brown hair with beautiful brown eyes to match. He was tall, too, and he wore a faded blue sweater and plain black pants.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Tommy did, and you watched as, within seconds, he went from being completely invisible to… Tommy. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a white t-shirt with red sleeves, and a pair of cargo shorts.

“Thank god, we don’t have to be invisible anymore. I was getting so tired of it, but of course Wilbur said we had to, didn’t want to risk scaring you off, as if you would be!” He barked out a laugh, and you chuckled as well, blinking a bit.

“I’m sorry, what? You- I can see you? And you can control that sort of stuff?”

Tommy snorted, “Of course you can see us. That’s kinda how ghosts work, innit?”

You gave them a closer look, noting that, although you could see them, they were still slightly translucent. “How the hell should I know how ghosts work? I’m not the ghost here!”

You laughed, and Wilbur seemed to finally gain some sense of vocal ability, “We can control it, but our natural state is like this. Well, kind of. There’s a more… accurate form, but we don’t really show that to anyone. We’ve found that it usually scares people out, so we tend to wait.”

You nodded, “What is the more accurate form?”

Wilbur leaned forward, ruffling your hair, “Don’t worry about it.”

You pouted a bit but nodded regardless, “Okay. Well, as weird as it is, it’s also… really cool. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see you guys.” You took Wilbur’s hand, inspecting it carefully. Other than the slight translucent nature of them, they just looked normal. A bit paler than they probably would have been alive, but still just completely normal.

You let go of his hand, looking up at him, “Sorry, it’s just interesting.” Wilbur chuckled, and it was so different to actually see him laugh rather than just hearing it, “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, darling.”

You flushed lightly, and Wilbur took immediate notice, leaning in close to your face.

“Are you going shy on me, darling?” His hand gently cupped your chin, “Do you just find me that attractive?” Your cheeks flamed up, and as you stuttered out a response, Tommy groaned, smacking Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Take your flirting shit out of here, dickhead.”

Wilbur scoffed, sitting next to you instead, “Hey, I put up with your shit attempts at flirting with Molly for months, I’m allowed to have my fun.”

“I am not shit at flirting! And even if I was, you’re the one who taught me, so that would mean you’re also shit!” Tommy exclaimed, putting the Rubix cube down.

“You never listened to my instructions!”

“Because they were stupid”

You rolled your eyes as they continued to bicker, standing and walking towards your room. You waved a hand nonchalantly, “I’m going to take a bath. You guys just keep… doing whatever is it you do.” “Want my help in there, darling?” You flushed, flipping him off behind your back, “Unless you’re bringing me wine and leaving right after, I do not need your help.”

You walked into the bathroom and got a warm bubble bath ready quickly, getting into the water and relaxing as the heat soothed your sore muscles. You played music from your phone softly, closing your eyes and letting the water alleviate your troubles from the day.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. You fixed the curtain to maintain your modesty, before humming out a soft, “Come in.”

Wilbur opened the door with a smug grin, a glass of wine in his hand.

You laughed, “Jesus, I didn’t even think we had wine in the house.” “We do, it was just too high for you to reach.” He chuckled, walking over to hand you the glass.

“Oh? And who put it up there then?” You took the glass, taking a sip.

“Hm, I wonder.” He chuckled, crouching down to be eye-level with you, “You feeling any better?”

You nodded softly, smiling, “Yeah. Just had a rough day, I guess.”

He sat down, nodding, “I figured. It took you longer to get home than usual, and you just seemed a bit down. I’m glad Tommy was able to make you laugh, even if the whole reveal thing wasn’t planned.”

You hummed, “It definitely was a shock. I do like being able to see you, even if I’m still just processing it. It’s easier to tell where you are.”

“Oh, I bet,” he laughed, “But sneaking up on you is half the fun.”

“For you,” you rolled your eyes, “I quite like being able to see my housemates. I’m almost offended, actually, that you hid such a pretty face from me for so long.”

It was an incredibly satisfying feeling to actually watch him get flustered, his cheeks turning pink while he looked away.

He composed himself, clearing his throat, “Didn’t want to scare such a pretty person away is all. Especially such a kind one.”

You flushed, taking another sip of wine. “Well, I can definitely say I’m not scared.”

He smiled (a beautiful sight to see), reaching a hand up to gently play with your hair, “Good. For a moment there I thought you’d just bolt when you saw me.”

“Honestly,” you chuckled, leaning into his touch, “You guys having a form I can see is the least weird thing I’ve dealt with since I’ve moved in.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess that’s true. We’ve just… grown to be a bit wary of showing ourselves to people. Molly was the most recent one, actually, and that was because she snuck in without us noticing. The first time someone moved in, we didn’t think to hide ourselves, and that’s what led to all the rumors and everything.”

You nodded, “Shitty exploitative people or people running for the hills?”

“We’ve had both,” he sighed.

“How do you guys know about all the rumors and stuff though? Did Molly tell you?”

He shook his head, “We can’t leave the house most days, but there are a few exceptions. We can leave on Halloween, and the anniversary of our deaths. Or if we possess someone.”

“Wha- okay, you can not just say that like it’s a casual thing. You can possess people?”

He chuckled, looking coy, “Yeah. We don’t do it often, only if we really need to or if we’re given permission.”

You nodded, “That’s respectful, I guess. When would you need to?”

He shrugged, “We’ve done it to protect people. There was a kid living in here with the last family, and he nearly drowned, so I had to possess his father to save him. The only problem is that, usually when we do it, people move out right after. But if we can stop another person from dying here, we’ll jump at the opportunity.”

“That makes sense,” you hummed softly, “Must feel weird to get possessed.”

He hummed, “I’ve heard it is. Tommy’s possessed Molly before so they could go on like pseudo-dates. She said you’re still aware of everything, you just can’t move your body yourself. She and Tommy were able to talk in her head, though so it’s not as scary as you’d think, as long as you know it’s happening. There are some side effects for a short while afterwards though.”

“Like?”

“She said that she felt freezing cold for a while after. She had a few bruises as well, but that could’ve easily just been from Tommy remembering how to manuver an actual body. That’s another thing, if you do it for too long, you kind of forget how to move your own body, so she had to sit to keep herself from falling.”

You nodded, humming, “that’s not too bad.”

“Well, yeah. That’s with permission, though. Most of the people we’ve possessed without permission haven’t exactly stuck around long enough for us to ask how they feel afterwards.”

You leaned your head on the edge of the tub, going silent as you thought. “We could do that one day, if you want.”

“What?” He stopped his hand, eyebrows pinching together.

“Yeah, like Molly and Tommy do. That way you can go outside a bit more and do stuff that you can’t do anymore.”

He grinned softly, “Is this your way of asking me on a date?”

You groaned, and he immediately laughed at your reaction. “I’m trying to be nice, dumbass.”

“I know, I know. But man it is so much more fun to flirt with you when you can actually see me. You get flustered so much easier.” “Maybe I’m not used to seeing cute boys flirt with me.”

He frowned slightly, and it quickly dissolved into a grin, “Well, you’ll get used to it soon enough because I definitely don’t plan on stopping. Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

You smiled gently, “It doesn’t. I would’ve asked you to stop a long time ago if it actually made me uncomfortable.”

“Good. Because I am going to be so much worse about it now that I can flirt physically with you.”

“Oh, god.”

“I’ll make it good for you. Don’t stress.”

You chuckled, taking another sip, “I’m not stressed, more concerned about how I’ll ever be able to deal with a cute guy flirting with me all the time.”

“Well, I’ll take good care of you, obviously.”

You smiled, biting your lip softly, “Thanks, Wilbur.”

He smiled, running his hand through your hair once more. “Of course, darling. What do you want for dinner? I can start making it while you finish up here.”

You sighed softly, “I have no clue honestly.”

“So surprise you?”

You grinned softly, “Yeah. Just please don’t burn down the house. I like living here with you guys.”

“Alright, so don’t let Tommy into the kitchen, got it.”

You laughed, and he gave you that look again, the same one he was giving you when you saw his face for the first time.

“I guess so.” You hummed softly.

“Alright, well, I’ll go get started,” He stood, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently before walking out.

It took your brain a moment to catch up before you felt yourself blushing deeply once more. It was a new but definitely welcome sensation, the feeling of his lips on your forehead left a gentle chill. You bit down a smile, but even if you really tried, you wouldn’t have been able to hide the gentle grin. You took a final sip of your wine, setting the glass down and letting yourself sink into the water.

You got out of the bath and got dressed, taking your glass and walking out into the living room. You weren’t quite used to just being able to see them, almost feeling startled as you saw Tommy sitting on the couch playing on your old DS, and seeing Wilbur standing in the kitchen.

You shook it off, walking to the kitchen and looking for the wine.

Wilbur looked over at you, smiling softly, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “How’s dinner coming along?”

“Good,” he smiled, walking over and wrapping his lanky arms around you while you poured yourself some more wine. You leaned into his grasp, smiling softly.

“Yeah? House hasn’t burnt down, so that says something at least.”

He chuckled, wrapping you up tighter in his arms, “I still remember mostly what I’m doing. I used to cook for Tommy when our parents were working.”

“You haven’t spoken much about your parents.” You noted quietly.

He sighed, leaning his head on you, “No. I haven’t. I try not to think about them too much.”

You nodded softly and didn’t ask further. Instead, you relaxed in his arms and drank your wine. He swayed a bit, and you chuckled, closing your eyes.

“It’s still weird being able to see you.”

“Yeah? Like what you see.”

You chuckled, flushing, “Maybe. Is there a problem if I do?”

“The opposite, actually, darling. I think it’s absolutely lovely. But not as lovely as you.”

“Wilbur?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Something is very much burning on the stove.”

He quickly pulled away, rushing to the pot on the stove and taking it off the heat.

“Oops,” he grinned at you sheepishly, “Sorry, love. You’re just so distracting.”

You flushed and rolled your eyes, “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you in the kitchen either.”

He scoffed, “I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. This was simply a method of cooking, I’m enfusing the food with smoky flavor.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit, “You’re such a dork.”

When you looked back at him, he was giving you the biggest grin. He turned, grinning down at the counter as he worked on plating the food for you. He handed you the plate, gently kissing your head.

“I kept the burnt parts out of it.”

You blushed, smiling, “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course, darling.”

You started eating, and he watched you as you did, waiting for your reaction.

“Holy shit, Wilbur, this is fantastic.”

He threw his arms up, cheering, “Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you like it. It’s been a long time since I cooked.”

“It’s amazing, seriously, thank you.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you again, “It’s actually our mom’s recipe. She was the best cook, taught me everything I know.”

“Well, she taught you well.” You ate more, and Wilbur was absolutely beaming behind you.

The rest of the night was quite calm, just sitting with Tommy and Wilbur, watching videos and stuff. You got tired quite quickly, so the three of you retired to bed, Wilbur following you. You both got comfortable quickly, your head resting on his chest. His hand gently trailed up and down your back, and the sensation used to make you shiver, but now it just felt comforting. In the silence, you began thinking.

“Wilbur?” You spoke softly.

“Hm?”

“You’re very touchy,” you stated plainly.

He chuckled, “That’s true.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I like the feeling. Reminds me of being alive, I guess.”

“How so?” You asked quietly.

“Well,” he took one hand, gently placing it on your cheek, “it warms me slightly, same way it cools you. So it becomes grounding, after a while. Especially when I start to comprehend the reality of the fact that I am a ghost, I can’t leave, and I don’t know if I’ll be like this forever or if one day I’ll just suddenly stop existing. It’s scary sometimes to think about the fact that, at one point, I was living, and I got killed, and now I am undead, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if one day, just by saying something, I’ll fade. You weren’t wrong when you said ghosts are probably scared of their own situation because we are. There’s no rulebook to being a ghost, and I remember, the first few years, I was just so aware of my own… mortality, if you can even call it that. And it was terrifying. Tommy and I mostly stayed in the attic at all times because we didn’t know if we’d fully move on just by walking out the door. So, when I touch you, it helps pull me out of that fear. Because I remember that being alive was just as terrifying because there is no rulebook to living either. And it’s grounding. If I could do it once before, I can do it again. You remind me of being alive. Because you’re the first person to look at me, even when you couldn’t see me, and have empathy before anything else. So touching you and being around you, it makes me feel something other than the usual dread and sadness, and I will cling to that as much as I can while I still have time with you.”

You leaned into his touch, shifting a bit to wrap an arm around him. You didn’t really have a response. It was the most vulnerable he’d ever been.

You cuddled your head further into his chest, nodding softly, “If you ever need it, you know, i’m here for you. I don’t know much about ghosts or living, and I’d never given the things much thought before moving in here. But anything that can help you, I’m willing to help you with. Even if it means having you attached at my hip all day. You know better than anyone just how fragile life is. I could die tomorrow. So, we need to make the most out of what we have, I guess.”

He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently, “That’s all we can do. It’s what made life worth living, and it’s what makes being stuck like this worth it too. Just appreciating every moment, even if all we have is your living and my ghostly-ness.” He chuckled softly, and you did too.

You gently moved his hand from your cheek, solely so you could hold it. “Goodnight, Wilbur.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

You and Wilbur got closer seamlessly. You don’t know what made it so easy to talk with him or just be around him. Overtime, his flirting got bolder, but so did yours. You’d be lying to yourself if you were to say that you weren’t attracted to him. You absolutely were. You were just conflicted.

You didn’t know how human-ghost relationships worked. You knew they happened, obviously, Molly and Tommy were clear proof of it. But you didn’t really know how they worked. One person was dead, firstly, but there was also the concept that their spirit had a high chance of outliving you. You would grow older, but Wilbur would always be twenty-six. Unless you died, of course, but that would be a pretty major commitment to make, and it honestly made your head hurt to think about. Plus, that’s if Wilbur even would be okay with that which, based on the way he spoke about being dead, he wouldn’t be. The morals and mortality honestly gave you a headache. So you talked to the only other person who would possibly understand.

When Molly walked in that morning, you were quick to stop her from walking up to where Tommy would be.

“Molly! Can I talk to you for a moment?” “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You carefully pulled her into the backyard, sitting down on the concrete porch.

“I… have a few questions.” You spoke softly in case of any peeping ears.

“Oh?” She sat down next to you, “What about?”

You sighed, “You and Tommy’s relationship. How does it work?”

She chuckled, “What do you mean?”

“I just… I’ve been thinking a lot about like how a ghost-human relationship could work, and I just feel overwhelmed. I like Wilbur,” you admitted softly, blush rising to your cheeks, “But I keep thinking about how a relationship between me and him would work since it’s… unconventional.”

“Well, I’ve found your problem already,” she gave you a kind smile, “You think too much. With Tommy, we don’t think about it. We’re both aware of how weird it is, and how it probably won’t last forever, but we don’t mind. I mean, he and I have been dating for months, and I’ve never been able to tell anyone for obvious reasons. We just honestly don’t think about it. And maybe that’s not healthy, but it’s what’s right and what works for us right now. So that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, resting your head on your knee, “It doesn’t bother you? That you don’t know?”

“Honestly? No,” she shrugged, “It’s something about living in the moment, you know. Sometimes I think about it, but I know that there’s really nothing Tom and I can do anything about it. So, I just don’t think about it since I can’t find a solution.”

You nodded again, “Thanks, Molly.” She patted your shoulder, “Listen, if you want my advice, I say do it. Wilbur is absolutely head over heels for you. And even if he is blind to it, I can tell you are the same way about him. So, don’t think about it much, just do it. If it makes you both happy, then it’s worth it.”

You flushed, nodding, “I just have to figure out how. Thank you, Molly.”

“I have work off today, so I was probably going to let Tommy possess me so we can go for a walk, if you want some privacy,” she winked, standing and heading inside.

You sat there with nothing but the deep blush on your cheeks and the things she had told you.

You were thankful for the later privacy, though, solely because you didn’t want Tommy there when you confessed. It was nerve-wracking enough without Tommy there to potentially make fun of you.

After dinner, you and WIlbur were sitting on the couch like normal, but you couldn’t focus, too in your head about how to word everything perfectly and oh god, what if he says no.

“Darling, are you okay?” Wilbur asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, biting your lip. You turned, facing him now, and gently taking his hand, “I want to… talk about something.”

“Oh?” he turned, holding your hand tightly, “What’s up?”

Fuck, you really should’ve practiced this before hand. “It’s just…” here goes nothing, “I like you, Wilbur. I’ve known for a bit now, I just didn’t really know what to say or if it would be good to even bring it up until I talked to Molly today, but, yeah. I like you. And, if you’ll take me, I’d- I’d like to be your partner.”

For the first time in your little speech, you looked up to him. And he, god, he looked ecstatic. He had a soft smile on his face, but you could see in his eyes just how overjoyed he was.

“Darling, nothing would make me happier. I’d be a fool to not take you,” he squeezed your hand gently, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and he brought a hand up, slowly guiding your lips together. The kiss was enchanting, and the sensation – a mix of cool and tingling – it reminded you of peppermint chapstick. You held onto his shoulder gently, kissing him back and putting just as much love into it as it gave you.

You both pulled away quickly, solely due to the sound of the door opening. Both of your heads whipped towards the sound, watching as Molly-Tommy walked in, and after a moment, you watched Tommy’s spirit separate, and he carefully held onto Molly, so she wouldn’t fall. Once he looked over, both of you red-faced and looking like you were clearly caught, he raised his free arm up, cheering, “Holy shit! Wilbur finally got bitches!”

Your relationship with Wilbur was surprisingly easy. Not much actually changed between the two of you, aside from kissing and making out more. He slept in your bed more often, though he still had those nights when he would disappear to the attic. He also tended to be more generally affectionate rather than flirty, now that he knew it was okay to kiss you when he felt like it.

There was something not-house related that popped up recently though. You didn’t notice it for the first few days, but by the fourth day it was glaringly obvious. Every day that you would leave your house for work, you noticed a man, around mid-fourties, sitting on a bench across the street. He would follow your path to work, but he would never interact. It made you feel uneasy, though. You told a few of your coworkers, and they all agreed that it was weird, but you refrained from telling Wilbur and Tommy. You didn’t want any problems, you just mostly wanted to figure out why this guy kept watching you.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find out. On the second week of this occurring, he actually came up to you, holding a single flower out towards you.

When he spoke, it sounded as though he hadn’t spoken properly in about two years, and it sent a shiver down your spine, but none of his words were mean or harmful.

“Hello. I’m sorry to bother you,” he handed you the flower, a red chrysanthemum, before continuing, “it’s just, well, I used to be friends with the boys who lived in that house. Not a lot of people move in there, so when I heard you did, I got a bit curious.”

You accepted the flower, somewhat shocked by the plainness of his statement, “Oh. I understand the curiosity, the house has quite a reputation. It’s a lovely place, though.”

He nodded, “I loved being in there. I’ve heard the reputation it has as well, but I wanted to ask, as the current owner, do you believe in any of it? I’m not quite sure I believe in these ghost stories.”

You chuckled softly. You had gotten used to lying about your ghostly boyfriend and roommates, “No, I don’t believe in any of it. However, if it keeps my payments low, I don’t mind.”

That brought a laugh out of him, and it eased your nerves a bit. “I get that. Sorry if I weirded you out at all, It’s just- not exactly easy to come up to people and ask if they believe in ghosts.”

“People do it all the time now, actually,” you hummed. It wasn’t uncommon, these days, for anyone who knew you lived there to ask those types of questions. “But you said you were friends with the boys?”

He nodded, “Yes. We were good friends for a long time. It was tragic what happened to them, but I am glad to hear that you haven’t had any problems. I always worried that their souls may not have been able to move on.”

You gave a soft smile, “Yeah, I worried the same when I moved in. I imagine it’d be quite scary to exist like that. But, no issues, really.”

“That’s good, then. The boys were so kind, too. William and Thomas, their names were.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, as if you didn’t know.

For the next week, every day, that man would walk with you to work, telling stories about the boys, and every day, he would bring you a red chrysanthemum. It was nice to hear about the boys when they were alive, even if it was a bit chilling to think about how they lived before knowing what would become of them.

One day, the man brought a whole bouquet of the red chrysanthemums, and you accepted them with a soft smile. As he told stories, he spoke in a bit of a far-away tone.

“I’ve always wanted to go back in, actually. To see where we all used to goof off. I think it would be a nice way to get closure, after all that’s happened. The guy who killed them, he was smart, really smart, but he never got caught, so their story never got closure. I never got closure. I’m not sure, I’ve just always thought that, just walking around and seeing their rooms, it would help.”

That brought a thought to your brain. This guy used to be their friend, and Wilbur said that they always wondered what happened to all the people who they never saw anymore. It would be a really nice surprise for them!

“Well, if you’d like, once I get off of work, I can let you in, let you walk around a bit?”

He grinned, “Really? Oh, that would be lovely. You get home around six usually, yes?”

You nodded softly, “Yeah.”

“Perfect! Oh, thank you so much, it would truly be the best thing to be able to see in there again. You don’t know how much you’ve truly done for me.”

When you got home, he was waiting at your front porch. You smiled softly at him, waving as you went to unlock the door. You opened the door slowly, to give the boys time to go invisible when they realized there was someone in the house.

“You can just take a seat on the couch, alright? I’m going to put my stuff away and then I’ll walk the place with you.”

He nodded, taking a seat and looking around. You walked to your room to put your bag away, but the moment you closed the door, you were met with the two ghosts, startling you backwards.

“Jesus, you guys scared me,” you whispered.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” Tommy whispered harshly.

Wilbur just looked angry, the silent type of angry that honestly put fear in you as well.

“What are you talking about? Him?”

“Of fucking course, we’re talking about him! Why is he here?” It was weird to hear Tommy sounding so quiet and panicked.

“He said he used to be your friend. I wanted to surprise you guys,” you smiled a bit, not yet understanding why they both looked so upset and fearful and angry.

“That dickhead was not our friend.” “What? Tommy, what are you on about?”

“Love, that’s the man who murdered us.” Wilbur spoke for the first time, anger clear in his voice.

You felt a chill go down your spine, straightening, “What?”

“The bastard pretended to be our friend, talking to us, bringing us shit like gifts and flowers,” you felt your entire body go cold as Tommy continued, “All so he could fucking murder us.”

“He’s been giving me flowers every day.” You noted simply, and the two of them both lost all the fear in their expressions, now just looking purely angry and protective. They shared a look before looking back at you. Wilbur placed a hand on your shoulder, gently despite the ferocity in his expression.

“Go back out there before he gets suspicious, but if he wants to go to the attic, do not walk in first, let him go first. You hear me?”

You nodded quickly, and Wilbur pulled you forward, kissing you passionately, “I won’t let him fucking touch you,” he growled out softly.

You kissed him back, slowly pulling out from Wilbur’s grasp and heading back out into the living room, a bit more stiff than before.

“You ready to look around?” You asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. He nodded, standing up. You and him walked upstairs to the boys’s rooms, and the entire time you could feel Wilbur and Tommy’s presence behind you.

You went to both of the boy’s old rooms, and he seemed completely normal, talking about all the times he’d seen the boys in here. After Wilbur’s room, he spoke up properly.

“Can we see the attic? The boys and I used to hang out there at night.”

You gulped softly and nodded, “Do you remember where it is?”

He smiled and nodded, “of course! I remember sneaking up there with them all the time.”

“Alright, lead the way then.” You gestured for him to lead the way, but he shook his head.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t, it’s your house after all.”

“No, really, I insist.”

He tilted his head, smiling, and this time it brought you waves of unease, “Is there something wrong?”

Fuck. There were two ways this could go. You could say yes, and he could just kill you right here. Or you could say no and deal with Wilbur’s anger later.

You’d rather deal with Wilbur’s anger later.

“...No. Nothing’s wrong, um, follow me, I guess.” You started walking upstairs to the attic, and you practically hear Wilbur’s curses in your ear.

You opened the door and walked in, and the man walked in behind you. Before either of you had a chance to react, the door slammed shut and locked, and you were pulled into the chair on the otherside of the room.

You watched Wilbur reappear, standing over you protectively. Tommy reappeared after, standing by the door. The man looked around wildly at the two of the them, stuttering.

“You- you said they weren’t real!” He looked at you angrily, and he started advancing towards you.

Wilbur grabbed your hands, placing them on top of your eyes. “Do not open your eyes.” He ordered, and all you could do was hear for a few minutes as the sound of strange whispers filled the room. There was light coming from the center of the room that you could vaguely make out from behind your hands, and soon, there was the sound of the man screaming. The room felt heavy, as if every negative emotion you’d ever known was flowing into your body all at once.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you peered between two fingers.

Tommy and Wilbur stood over the man as he sank into what appeared to be a portal into the floor. That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though.

What caught your attention was Tommy and Wilbur’s appearances. This must’ve been the true form they mentioned, you realized. They looked nearly decrepit, Tommy’s stomach covered in blood, and his neck showing a long open wound. Wilbur wasn’t much better, a clear stab wound going straight through his chest. If you looked hard enough, you could see through it. His face had a long scratch going down the side, hitting through his eye. There was another stab wound on him, a clear chunk taken out of his arm. Both of their eyes were glowing, Wilbur’s a haunting cold blue, and Tommy’s a deep red.

You gasped softly and quickly covered your eyes in full again. No wonder they didn’t want you to see it. It was entirely haunting to see.

A few minutes later, Wilbur walked over and pulled your hands off of your eyes. The light, the portal, and the man were all gone. You had started crying at some point after seeing them like that, and Wilbur quickly pulled you into his arms.

“It’s okay, he’s gone.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back soothingly. You sobbed against him, gently moving a hand to the center of his chest to make sure the wound wasn’t there anymore even if you’d already seen him looking normal.

He seemed to realize what you were doing pretty quickly, but he never let go of you or seemed upset in the slightest, “You saw, didn’t you?”

You nodded, another wave of sobs wracking your body.

He sighed softly, just holding you closer, “I’m sorry, darling. I never wanted you to see that. I’m so so sorry,” he whispered.

You didn’t respond, just sobbing against him and clinging onto him desperately.

He helped you calm down, and after you got past the tears from processing their true forms, you had to come to terms with the stark reality that you would have absolutely been killed, the same way the boys had, if they weren’t there for you.

The house was mostly quiet the rest of the night, though Wilbur and Tommy were both clearly filled with a sense of relief.

You asked Wilbur about it later as you rested on his chest in bed. “Are you and Tommy happy he’s gone?”

He hummed, looking down at you, “He’s not gone, per se. Just in his own personal hell. It felt good, but, if you’re wondering why we’re both relieved, that’s not why.”

He got better at reading you as you two grew closer, and this was clear evidence of it, “Then why?”

“We didn’t know if that would be it for us,” he sighed softly, “There’s always been this idea that ghosts stick around due to unfinished business. We don’t know if that’s true or not, but we always assumed, if it was, it was because he was still here. So, there was a chance that when we got rid of him, we both would’ve just ceased to exist, or moved on to the afterlife, whatever. We’re relieved that didn’t happen. Neither of us could stand leaving you and Molly like that, with no clue what happened to us.”

You nodded softly, “But, wouldn’t it have been nice? To move on?”

“No,” he almost laughed, “Not without you.”

You held onto him tighter, nodding softly. “He would’ve killed me, if you two weren’t here.” You whispered.

He nodded, but he didn’t speak.

“If we let him, maybe I would’ve been here with you guys forever, like you are now.”

He looked at you, horrified, “Darling, don’t start with that. There’s absolutely no way we could’ve been certain of that, and I don’t want this for you. I want you to live a full life, and I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened if he killed you and your spirit didn’t stay. It would’ve been devastating for both of us, Tommy too. So, please, don’t start with that. I’m glad you are alive.”

You nodded softly, and his arms tightened around you, “I owe you both my life regardless.” He chuckled lightly, leaning down and kissing you gently, “Darling, the only thing you owe us is your happiness. All I want is for you to be happy. Nothing else matters to me anymore.”

You smiled, kissing him back lovingly.

“I love you, Wilbur.”

He smiled, eyes glowing the same blue, but lighter this time, as you exchanged your first ‘I love you’s. “I love you too, darling.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur #theres an alt ending :)#not written out but :)#i know what it is :)

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still-with-koo · 8 months

Text

Champagne Problems | KTH

summary: you turn down taehyung’s very public marriage proposal. inspired by champagne problems by taylor swift.

pairing: taehyung x reader

wc: 1,096

warnings/genre/rating: 13+; established relationship; angst; a break up; not wanting marriage & kids; and this is all obviously made up, none of it’s real

a/n: this song always takes me back to a very confusing period of my life. so this drabble is both spoonfuls of champagne problems and a bit personal too. and it’s fitting that the scene & dialogue popped into my head on a rainy drive home. it’s not edited so i don’t expect much but if it makes you feel anything pls let me know!

“No?”

You’re pushing past family and friends, ‘sorry’ on your lips as you try to get away from the absurdity of it all. Taehyung’s voice is but a faint murmur as the voices in your head take over.

Out in the parking lot, you can finally breathe.

But not for long.

“How could you say no?”

You’re quiet, not in the habit of responding to questions he should already know the answer to. And he does know.

“My family was watching. My dad, my mom. Your family, even your boss. How could you say no,” he asks. No, he’s demanding it — you can hear him demand you go back in, say it was all a joke, to say yes this time.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

It’s a whisper. A knock on his door, to see if he’ll open it. He should be saying sorry to you. Not the other way around.

But he’s not home.

“Five years. We’ve been together for five years…”

Your hand tightens. “And yet you don’t know me at all,” you reply through gritted teeth, turning around to meet him with ice in your eyes, your resolve frozen in place.

And he disappears.

Suddenly you don’t know him anymore.

And you’re seven years old asking why daddy was packing a suitcase for himself.

“He’s going on a trip, sweetie.”

But a trip would mean he was coming back.

Taehyung knew.

He knew all of it.

And yet.

The embers in his eyes flicker. When you see him, actually see him, he is burning red. A raging fire.

But fire and ice both burn.

“Let’s end it.”

“What? You… you want to break up?”

You just nod, gaze falling to the dried leaf dancing across the pavement.

“What am I supposed to tell…,” he starts with a quiet fervour, kerosene dripping as he watches your life together start to singe at the edges. A pause before his voice firms. “You’re not breaking up with me.” You’re met with full flames when you look at him. He wants to melt your resolve, you can see it.

But what is a campfire to an iceberg.

“Let’s not kid ourselves anymore, Tae.”

You hear his breath hitch. You see the flicker go out. And you know he wishes more than anything you would hold his hand and say it’s ok.

“You’re really breaking up with me?”

“Yes.”

You rub your arms and wonder why the cold suddenly bothers you when it never did before. He walks towards you as he takes off his sweater. And warmth spreads when the flannel touches your bare skin.

“You know I love you, right?” He says it with a quiver and you wish you could take it back. Take all of it back.

“I know.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Up close, his eyes aren’t embers. They are pools of longing so warm you feel your ice start to melt.

“It is enough. For me, your love was always enough.” Before he can ask the question, you answer it. “But I am not enough for you. And I never will be.”

“How can you say that? Of course you are enough,” he replies, and a tear falls, though you can’t tell whose.

“I’m not. You… you need more. You need what I can never give you.”

“No I don’t. I don’t need marriage. I don’t need anything else. Just you.” He reaches for your hand and you squeeze it back. But even you can see he is scrambling now, trying to grab onto a life raft before the sea takes him away.

You inhale deeply, steadying your voice just enough to continue. “You need a bride, Taehyung. You need a family. You need to be a dad. I know you.”

A deep sigh is his response.

And it’s quiet while you watch him contemplate your words. He knows you’re right. And he knows you can never give him those things.

You decided long ago that you will never marry nor have kids. And you won’t renege, not even for him.

Because a kid isn’t some achievement to unlock, some milestone you reach, some heirloom to pass down. And you don’t have the heart to bear the burden of ruining another life. For love always leaves scars.

When he finally looks up at you, his eyes are red. “Maybe you’ll change your mind. What if someday you want kids?” His eyes glisten and you wish you could dive in and mend the crackling glass of his heart.

He must have noticed something in your expression because he smiles and your guilty lips smile back.

It’s a lifeline. He can see it. He’s calling out to you now. He’s holding your eyes like he holds your heart. Close. And you can feel him grabbing onto the inch sticking out of your grave.

Then you realize this is how it’s always been. Him pushing while you pull away, only to come back to him. To take another step towards him. Maybe he isn’t the only one who should apologize.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” you say, and you feel his grip loosen. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Wasting my time?”

“I let you fall in love with me knowing I could never—”

“I didn’t fall,” he interjects, cupping your face in his hands, looking into your eyes so you know he means it, “I stepped into love with my eyes wide open.” His hand falls to yours again and you can feel the ice encircling you start to thaw. “I chose to love you. I love you, not some family you can give me. You are my family.”

A tear rolls down and you know it’s yours this time. He wipes it away before continuing. “Thank you for loving me back.”

You do love him. More than life itself. And that’s why you have to do this.

Because he will hold onto that inch forever.

You have to let go first.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, eyes so misty you can barely make him out. “I wish it could have been different.” Letting go of his hand, you wipe away the last of your tears, at least until you can get on the train home.

With a single kiss pressed to your lips, he rises. “I’ll tell our family and friends to go home.”

Our.

A word you’ll never say again.

You smile weakly and he adds, “You don’t need a ride, do you?” He nods towards his gold chevy and when you shake your head, he starts walking away. Then he stops, turning around with a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

You nod, wiping away another tear as you watch him walk away. Crestfallen, but still the man you fell in love with. To the very end.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung imagine #52hertz #lilo fics

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onlyonetifosi · 1 year

Text

A good call early in the morning

-> Word Count: almost 2000 :)

-> Warnings: very fluff, SMUT +16 (petnames, cocky Logan...)

It was 9 am when Logan's phone started ringing, and I immediately felt Logan groaning and twirling in bed.

-Baby, pick it up or turn it off- I groaned in a whisper, too tired to speak louder.

-Sorry sweetie, I have to attend, it's from Williams.

I feel him getting up and going to the kitchen. After what I think there was about 15 minutes he comes back with the most beautiful smile I have seen.

-I can see it was a good call- I tease him, still in bed, but spurred on it.

-Baby, come here - He invited me to cuddle while coming back to bed.

-Well, are you gonna tell me what it was about?- I ask him with curiosity.

-Maybe, maybe not the Williams seat is mine next season - he says as if it was something that happens normally.

-WHAT THE HELL LO!? -I ask jumping from the bed

-NO WAY, congratulations baby- I say throwing myself at him, filling his face with kisses and hugging him like a koala.

We spend the next hours cuddling in bed , eating breakfast and drinking our coffee. -I will be the next champion- I say certain. -I hope so baby, but Williams it's not in the best moment, we're barely in points - he says serious as always. -But you are going to make much progress, you will see, and no one is as beautiful as you - I whisper in his ear, making him smile and kiss me.

- How about going to the beach? We have to celebrate it- He suggests with a smile on his face. We get ready for a relaxing evening, we take our swimsuits and a bag with our favourite snacks and drinks and spend 2 hours sitting on the sand watching the sunset in silence until it gets dark, and we decide to go back home to get dressed as we're going to his favourite restaurant with his family to celebrate the announcement.

He puts a shirt and some shorts and I dress up in a floral dress I know he loves besides it's summer and it's hot even at night. Although he takes a jacket just in case because he knows I'm always cold. We go to the restaurant in his car, his family is already there, when we get there we hug and kiss everyone and sit down at the table to have dinner, after a while the conversation turns to me as we establish a conversation about my life.

-So you are from Spain, aren't you?- His dad asks me with interest.

-Yes, I'm from Barcelona-I respond with a smile.

-So how did the two of you met?-His brother gets into the conversation.

-I was a marshal on the Montmeló track this year and we met there and the rest is history.

-I saw her when I was going back from the podium and I had the courage to ask her out, she was confused because I was talking too fast according to her but she accepted - Logan says with a smile on his face.

-It's true! I talk too fast for me to understand- I grumble back and he hugs me a little bit while mocking me. -Next time I'll start speaking Spanish or Catalan - I say smiling to him.

We all sit down to have dinner together and we talk, I answer all the questions they ask me and I also ask some, the main thing is that I'm enjoying myself, and I love the fact that Logan likes it when his family makes fun of him so does he with them.

-Ok now seriously, let us talk about the wedding - his mum says, gaining Logan's full attention. -Oh yeah! When will it be?- His brother asks from the other side of the table.

-Well I don't know yet, we are very Ing and we want to see where life gets us, but I'm very clear that she is the love of my life.-he tells them while holding my hand.

-Excellent said son - his dad says.

We finish our dinner and go on to have dessert but soon Logan tells me that he wants to get out of there because it's getting late. After saying goodbye we go home; the trip is very pleasant, with my Taylor Swift playlist in the speakers and us discussing and talking about the most random things we can think, but it's something normal about us.

Once at home, he couldn't wait anymore to kiss me so he started a steamy make-out session in the living room.

-Logan, bedroom please - I whimper with shaky voice.

-As I ask baby - he smirks as he throws me over his shoulder and makes his way up to our bedroom.

Logan leaned, grinding against Ir core, Ir hips moving impatiently against him in return.

-I’re so sexy in that dress.-, he whispered into my ear, making me shiver.

His hands gripped the fabric of Ir dress needily until they got a hold of Ir ass.

Then he picked I up and carried I to his bedroom without interrupting the fiery kiss between the two of I. Ir legs wrapped around him, giving I more stability to grind Ir core against his crotch.

When he’d reached his room he laid me down on the mattress.

Instead of following I though, he stood over I and took I in as he admires my beauty, lying there on the bed only for him.

-What is it?-, I asked breathlessly, Ir mind racing with the wildest thoughts of his lips on Ir skin.

-Nothing.-, he shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face.

-Just think that you're beautiful.-, he explained, before he crouched down to take off Ir heels.

At a loss for words, I sat up on my elbows, watching as he carefully freed me from the uncomfortable shoes.

Once he’d succeeded, he pulled me towards the edge of the bed by my legs, making me gasp.

His face was now directly in front of I. I sucked in air loudly in anticipation.

-Logan..-, I panted, feeling his breath against I as he pushes Ir dress up

I was so wet by now that I was desperately craving Ir release.

-All in good time, pretty girl.-, he smirked, spreading my legs to give him more room.

His hands slowly crept up Ir thighs while he kissed his way up from Ir inner thigh to Ir core.

It was so slow and sensual that I couldn’t help but moan again, my hips bucking up in need for some friction.

-Someone’s impatient -, he laughed when I huffed.

-Don’t worry, baby. I'll get there, I promise-

His words sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

Then finally his tongue flicked at Ir core, making Ir mouth fall open for a silent moan.

I writhed under the sensation until his arm came up to my waist to hold me in place while his tongue made me see stars.

-Logan..-, I moaned again, my mind not able to function properly.

-Tell me what I want.-, he replied, not stopping.

-I want..-, I tried to speak, but was interrupted by a moan falling from my lips.

-I want..-, I began again, but the rest of my sentence was lost in yet another moan because he started sucking on Ir clit.

-If I want my fingers just say so baby.-, he whispered, two of his fingers slipping into I with ease.

Ir hips bucked up uncontrollably, Ir high building up rather rapidly.

-I’m gonna cum..-, I whined when he sped up his fingers and curled them inside I perfectly.

-Good. Want I to make a mess all over my fingers.-, he panted, his tongue circling at Ir clit continuously.

His words were all I needed to send I over the edge.

With a few more thrusts from his fingers I clenched around them, coming undone while moaning his name.

While I was still coming down from Ir high, Logan freed himself of his shirt and pants before he crawled on top of I. He pulled Ir dress up and over Ir head.

- You’re ready, sweetie? - he asked, engaging me in another passionate kiss.

When he moved his hips against I, his dick slid through Ir folds, leaving I wanting more once again.

-Fuck me, Lo - I breathed out, keeping the intense eye contact with him as he aligned himself at Ir entrance.

Slowly, slowly, he pushed into I, enjoying the way Ir walls clenched around him.

I gasped at the feeling of him inside me, filling me up completely.

-You're so pretty - he smirks, then picked up his pace.

His fast and deep thrusts immediately hit all the right spots inside of I, causing a string of curse words to fall from Ir lips.

Ir legs wrapped around his hips and Ir eyes were screwed shut, simply enjoying his touch. However, he didn’t like that.

-Look at me when I’m inside I.-, he commanded with a deep voice, not stopping his movements.

-I… can’t- I replied with a whine, which only made him even more annoyed.

Quickly his hand came to Ir neck, squeezing rather harshly.

I squealed, opening my eyes in shock. Logan smiled, satisfied again.

-Not so hard, is it?- he asked with a confident grin, leaning down to give me a sloppy kiss.

His thrusts were still fast and hard, making me go insane.

I made sure to keep my eyes focussed on him, even though I almost melted under his gaze.

When he filled I up and rested his hips against Irs for a second, my mouth hung agape, my mind not able to cope with the sensation.

He pushed his hips further against Irs, pushing I up on the bed.

-I fuck me so good!-, I praised, remembering last second that I were supposed to leave Ir eyes open.

-Such a good girl for me.-

Logan continued his thrusts, bringing I to the edge once again.

-I’m close…-, I gasped between constant moans.

-Let go, baby.-, he encouraged, his fingers finding Ir clit to press down on it.

It made me clench around his dick, pulling an animalistic groan from him. -Fuck, you’re so tight.-

I’m not gonna last much longer.- He let out breathily. -Cum in me.- my words switched something inside him, his hips setting a ruthless pace, wanting nothing more than to grant me desire as soon as he possibly could. His change in pace was getting me there even quicker. My eyes rolled back, as I was back arching off the mattress. -Shit, you look so fucking pretty.- Even with the anticipation of his imminent release he couldn’t help but take a second to appreciate how good I looked beneath him. He was broken away from his thoughts as he felt my walls tighten around him. It only took a few more thrusts until we were both reaching our highs simultaneously. He continued his thrusts, although now a lot more sloppily, until we were both through Ir highs before pulling out and his body collapsing beside mine as he lay on my chest breathing.

After getting clean and comfy in our bed, we decide to put a film on TV, but only for the purpose of having noise on the back as neither of us make an effort of see it. We only want to be as close as posibly with each other.

-You are the one I want, Logan. I tell him and he looks at me, smiling with that face that makes me love him even more. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, letting our bodies fit perfectly together and enjoying every moment we can spend with each other. When we finish we lay in each other's arms with an expression of happiness.

-You are the one I want too.

My first Smut i hope you like it

I hope you like this! send me whatever you want to my asks.

And would you like a mention list? like for me to mention you in my fics

#logan sargeant smut #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #f1 drivers x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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chaotic-good-hippie · 2 years

Text

a glimpse of us

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x AFABreader (she/her)

Summary: Trying to deal with her husband’s affair, our protagonist takes a glimpse at their story, wondering if he ever loved her or if he just liked the idea of being loved.

“That's the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings, it's born from just one single glance but it dies a million little times."

Word count: 3,500

Warnings: Angst, cheating, mentions of sex, no use of y/n, non-descriptive reader (but it’s kind of implied reader isn’t Jewish). Also, I'm not Jewish, so if anything related to their tradition is incorrect, please correct me.

Inspired by: Basically Taylor Swift's entire discography.

Other chapters: Chapter 2 · Chapter 3

Chapter 1: Shock & Denial

“I don’t understand.” The words come out of her mouth with a nervous giggle, the smile on her lips intact. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, don’t you find it a little suspicious?”

“No, why?”

Her confusion is legitimate because, at first, the idea of Jonathan and Mira even being in the same room together is absurd. Sure, they don’t hate each other– and for the most part– any kind of resentment is long gone, but they tend to avoid interacting unless Ava is involved. Whenever they face each other, there’s always a palpable tension in the room and, more than once, she’d feared their sarcastic and ironic remarks towards one another would turn into a screaming match or worse. Therefore, the only logical reason she can come up with as to why they’d willingly walk into a room alone, let alone a house, is that they had founded a secret underground Fight Club of something.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing.” Winona, her best friend, sounds as confused as her, but for another reason. “I didn’t mean to bother you; I Just thought I had the responsibility to tell you, that’s all.”

“Oh, it’s okay, no problem. Thanks.”

And for a couple hours after she hangs up, as she goes up and down the house cleaning and organizing, trying to figure out how to deliver the good news, it’s genuinely not a problem at all. She goes on with her night in a peaceful ignorant bliss, blinded by her excitement and good faith.

By ten, when she sits on the living room's couch with a cup of cocoa in hand and the biggest smile on her face, the weight of Winona’s words hasn’t quite settled in yet. She opens her messages with tingling fingers, a corny romance movie playing in the background, and she texts Jonathan with enthusiasm bubbling up her chest and hot cheeks.

«Thoughts on Italian? I have something very important to tell you.»

«Was thinking about that restaurant near Ava’s school, the one with the fettuccini you so much like. Maybe tomorrow night?”

«btw, I miss you. The house is so quiet without you and Ava :(»

Normally, she wouldn’t expect him to answer right away, especially considering he’s supposed to be mourning with his family. Still, she's so happy that she can't help but be a little impatient. So, after some minutes of scrolling through social media to distract herself, she ultimately gives in and calls him instead, heart on her sleeve.

The phone rings for a while, much to her dismay, and she's about to hang up when his singing voice greets her from the other side of the line:

"Hey, sweetie."

"Hello, handsome." She sings back, giggling, a mushy warmth blossoming deep in her chest.

"Hi, baby." They both chuckle, and she can perfectly picture him smiling, messy curls falling over his glasses, a vision that makes her smile.

"Why are you whispering? She whispers back jokingly. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh, my mom fell asleep already, and I don't want to wake her up." He clears his throat, nervous, and while she knows he tends to do that when lying, she lets it slide.

"Sorry for calling this late, my love, but I miss you horribly."

"It's no problem."

"How's your mom?"

Even though she had offered to take some days off work to accompany him to his father's shiva, Jonathan had insisted on going alone. It bothered her a little, feeling it was her duty as his wife to be by his side in such a delicate moment. But ultimately, she accepted it after he told her he didn't feel like dealing with his mother's snarky comments toward her for seven days straight. However, she still called each family member to express her condolences and spent an entire night baking kichlach for Jonathan to take with him. When it came time for the funeral, she asked again to go with him, but he refused once more, claiming his mother only wanted her children and herself to be there. It hurt, but she wasn't about to disrespect the widow's desires, especially since she kinda abhors her.

"She's fine. It's just... You know, the whole thing at the ceremony was really draining for her.

"Oh, my dear." She feels guilty for leaving him alone in a moment like this. Maybe she should try harder to build a relationship with his mother for the sake of their little family. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry, darling."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Well, you know how it is. It's like the... Being at the cemetery and then going to an empty house. It was a lot for her."

"Of course, it must be terrible to lose your life-long partner." God knows, even if she had only been with Jonathan for three and a half years, she couldn't imagine a life without him now. "I'm so sorry, my love. Don't you want to stay a little longer? Maybe your mom would like that."

"No, no, I gotta go back to work."

"Okay." A huge smile creeps on her face at his words. "So you're coming back tomorrow?"

"Uh, yes. Taking the 6:30 train out of Valley Stream, then the Amtrak from Penn Station."

"I wish I could pick you up, but my shift starts at seven."

"It'll be fine, sweetheart. I'll see you at home when you come back."

"Ugh, fine." She bites her lip, trying to hold her excitement to not spoil the surprise. "Did you see my messages?"

"No, I'm sorry. What they say?"

"Can I facetime you? I want to see your gorgeous face."

He laughs, but there's something hidden in the way in which he stutters before answering:

"Okay. Yeah. Just, uh..." She can hear him panting as he walks hurriedly, then a door closes. "Trying to connect here."

She hangs up, and not even a second later, his phone starts buzzing, her name displayed in big white letters on the screen.

"Oh, look at you, such a marvelous sight." Her cheeks heat up, something she'll always be surprised by. No matter how many times he complimented her, he always managed to turn her into a giggly schoolgirl with his sweet-talking. "I love how that sweater fits you."

"Only because it makes my boobs look bigger."

"Oh, I like your boobs just the way they are, honey." There's an eco in his video. "I'll show you just how much tomorrow night."

As she laughs at his flirty attitude, her eyes divert to his background, where she can see a strangely familiar tile.

"Where are you?" A strange uneasiness suddenly overcomes her, a sign that her brain has already caught something her mind has yet to figure out.

"I'm in the bathroom."

"What?"

"I'm in the bathroom."

"Oh." She tries to match the tiles to a room in his parent's house, but nothing comes to mind.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"Ah, yeah... Um..." She can't focus on her words, distracted by those damn tiles of unknown origin. "I have great news, amazing actually... So I thought we could celebrate in that Italian restaurant near Ava's school."

"Basile?"

"Yeah, there."

"Uh, they have the best fettucini." He licks his lips, and she forces a smile, her mind rushing. "Seems good to me. May I have a hint of what we are celebrating?"

"No, it's a surprise."

The whole situation feels like a deja vú, from the way he's whispering to how he stutters every three words, anxious voice rushing through the conversation. It all takes her back to three years prior.

«Hey, how did it go?»

«Are you okay?»

«Hope it wasn't too bad.»

«Wanna have breakfast together? I think I can make it before you leave for work.»

Four innocent messages were all it took for Jonathan to blow up at her, even if she had only sent them because she was worried.

When Jonathan had told her Mira was going to stop by their house to discuss the divorce, she became wary, but only because he'd been doing so well for the past few months, she feared her presence would trigger him. It took time, money, therapy, tears, and some inebriated late-night conversations, but his eyes had finally regained their light, and his lips remembered how to smile. It irked her to think a conversation with his ex could throw so much effort out the window in a matter of minutes.

Thus, when he didn't call or text like he'd promised to, she immediately assumed the worst. And, as much as she wanted to drop everything and check on him, she had a duty at the hospital, so for now, she could only hope for him to answer the texts.

Just as she was putting her phone away, it started buzzing, his name and photo illuminating the screen, making her smile. Even after months of dating, she felt like a teenager every time they talked or were together, a dozen butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the mere thought of him.

"Hey."

"Hey, hi!" She walked outside the emergency room and stood beside the entrance, watching the rain, to avoid getting in the way of doctors and patients. "How are you? I was dead worried–"

"Good, uh, yeah." He interrupted her, whispering in an irritated voice. "But, listen, it's not cool to, like, bombard me with–"

"Bombard you?" She tried her best not to match his tone, thinking he may have had a terrible evening and was just tense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you; I just wanted to know how you were."

"I told you I'd call you when she left." Suddenly, she went from a teenager to a scolded child with how he talked to her like she was stupid.

It took her by surprise, really; he'd never been anything but a gentleman with her since the day they met a little over a year before. He'd never been rude or condescending, not even in his worst days, and he always spoke to her with such tenderness she just melted on the spot.

Why he's acting like a complete imbecile out of nowhere?

"Yeah, I know, but it's almost midnight, and you–" It clicked then. "She hadn't gone yet?"

"No, she hasn't. She's still here, okay?"

"Oh, is everything all right?" Her blind fade was present there since day one. "Where is she?"

"She's..." Out of all the possibilities, she certainly wasn't expecting him to say the next. "She's in bed."

"She's staying in?" She really wanted to keep calm and be mature enough to not let jealousy invade her, but then a thought crossed her mind. "Wait, whose bed?"

"My bed."

"And where were you before you called?"

The line goes silent for some seconds in which she can hear him calmly breathe with nothing more to add. She waited for an explanation, anything that could soothe the turmoil of emotions tearing her apart from the inside out. Tears were already forming in the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them away as she bit her lip, troubled.

"Why?" She inhales deeply, passing back and forth. "Jon, baby, I'm trying to understand you here, but you're not helping much. What happened? You were supposed to talk about the divorce and..."

"Listen–"

"Why is she in your bed? The same bed you made love to me just this morning..." He called her name, but she was so distracted in her ranting that she didn't listen. "And then you have the audacity to call me and complain about four text messages as if I was trying to control you or something."

"We... we need to talk, 'cause this is–"

The phrase sent her on a panicked rambling because nothing good ever came out of those words. She was shaking, the hem of her uniform getting wet as she mindlessly stepped on puddles. Her friends had warned her; they'd told her numerous times that dating an older married man wasn't the greatest idea, but she was already head over heels for him when all these happened. His gentle touch, sweet words, and ease with which he made her laugh and feel cared for; he was her safe space and vice versa. Or so she thought.

"Yeah, of course, we need to talk. We're in a relationship, Jonathan, you kind of owe us some respect, you know? That means establishing certain boundaries with Mira..."

"This is really just not, uh...–" She kept talking over him, between upset and scared for what he had to say.

"We can talk about this over breakfast, alright? I'll pass by Starbucks on my way to your house, I'll be there by seven–"

"I'm trying to tell you we should take a break because this is just not..." That's all it took to leave her speechless, a shaky sight leaving her lips as the first tears fell down her cheek. "Not working out for me right now."

"What are you talking about?" Her voice cracked, anger boiling down her throat. "It was working perfectly fine this morning, Jon."

"No, uh, uh..." He didn't know what to say, a part of him breaking at the sound of her crying, the other just wanting to hang up and go back to Mira.

"Jonathan, what the fuck!? When I left this morning, you swore she would only be there an hour or so to start the divorce arrangements. You kissed me, we had sex, we ate together. Everything was fine, and now you just decide it's not? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Okay, you know, let me just... Let me stop you here before you say something that you're gonna regret" It only made her angrier, the way he was avoiding talking about the subject and treating her like a child. "Look, I'm... I'm really sorry it has to end like this, but, uh... Honestly, I've been feeling for a while that–".

"Bullshit, Jonathan!" Some staff turned to see her as she yelled, and her cheeks heated up at the undesired attention. She was a crying mess, and she felt ridiculous for falling that hard for someone in only a matter of months while he just pretended to feel the same. She breathes deeply and lowers her voice, trying to control herself. "Jon, listen to yourself. Five seconds ago you wanted some time, now you're breaking up with me over the phone?"

"Well, you know, that–"

"Jonathan, I love you." He immediately goes silent.

Neither of them had said it before, but she had been tempted to more than once. As she lay on his chest, intertwined bodies under the covers; as he drank his coffee in the morning, wet curls fell over his glasses; as he talked about his students and his job; as he and Ava played. She knew she could only suppress it for so long, but she was scared of freaking him out, of it being too big of a sentence for his heart.

"I love you, I really do. I love you so, so much." She sobbed, internally hitting herself for her bluntness in a moment like that. "Please, we can talk about it, please."

"I'm not..." He wasn't sure of what to say, caught off guard by her confession and the pain in her voice.

Did he love her back? He had thought about saying it more than once, but the words always died out on the tip of his tongue. Sure, he was scared of loving again, but mostly he didn't even know if he was ready or completely over Mira. He felt terrible because she was perfect: Clever, funny, gentle, and caring, and the sex was the best he had had in his entire life. Then why couldn't he bring himself to tell her what he was sure he felt?

"You don't have to say it back, it's okay." Her heart was being ripped open inside her chest, but she wasn't going to guilt trip him for it. "I, just, um... Please, please, don't leave me."

He pronounced her name in a breathy voice, blinking his own tears away. "I'm sorry, it's better this way."

"Jon–" Her beeper goes off, and huffing, she checks the message as she roughly wipes the tears from her face. "I have to go, they need me here."

"Okay, bye." He swallowed the lump in his throat, resisting the urge to take back his words. How could he after everything he just said? "I'm sorry."

The tile is the same as the downstairs bathroom in his old house, the one he shared with Mira for over ten years. She comes to the realization with trembling hands, a tight pressure on her chest making it difficult to breathe.

"I love you." Jonathan says with a smile, not noticing her entire world is shattering right beneath her because of him. "Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

It took him so long to be able to say those three simple words that every time he pronounced them, she treasured them in the deepest of her soul. But not today, today they feel like the worst of burns.

"I love you too." The words are bitter on her lips. "I'll leave you, you must be tired, and you still gotta travel tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll see you at the restaurant at 8, is that okay?

"Yeah."

"Great, love you. Laila tov."

"Laila tov."

He hangs up, leaving her alone with the TV voices and her inner turmoil. Her previous excitement is gone, and all she can think about now it's Winona's words:

"I saw him entering his old house with Mira, and they've been there for a while."

“No.” She whispers for only the wind to hear. “Not my Jonathan, not him.”

My Jonathan, a conjunction of words so familiar to her tongue, it almost feels wrong to say one without the other. Yet, as she absently fidgets with the gold band on her finger, she wonders if they were ever true or if it was just her turning a blind eye to the obvious. She wants to laugh and brush the whole thing off as her being sensitive, but her inner voice keeps telling her there's something terribly wrong.

Surely, this all has to be a misunderstanding, right? Jon, sweet loving Jonathan, wouldn't betray her trust and lie straight to her face with no remorse. Not when he knows how much it hurts and how much she loves him. And even if he did, he wouldn't be as stupid as to do it in his old house and with his ex-wife. Not when her best friend lives just down the street, with a perfect view of the master bedroom from the second floor.

It's Jonathan, her Jonathan, and he'll never hurt her like that.

She doesn't even realize what her fingers are doing until the dialing tones sound beside her ear. One, two, three, then a female voice picks up:

"Hello?" Elisheva, his sister, greets her softly.

"Hi, Shevi" She's holding her breath, livid and a little nauseous. "I'm sorry for calling this late, I just wanted to check on you and your mom."

It isn't a lie, she truly cares for them even if Myriam sees her as an intruder in her family. Besides, she doesn't take it personally; Mr. Levy's hostility isn't directed at her as a person but rather at her status as his son's second wife.

"Oh, no worries. We're as good as we can be, thanks for calling." Shevi's always been friendly with her, making an effort with Arie to integrate her into the family after getting engaged. "Although, it's a shame Jon couldn't stay longer, you know? Maybe that could have cheered up mom a little."

"He's not at your house?" The surprise and distress in her voice confuse Elisheva.

"No, he left right after the funeral, at four." No, it couldn't be. Jonathan had told her he'd stayed with his family until tomorrow, and even if he'd decided to leave early, he should have been in the house hours ago. "He isn't home yet?"

"Oh, yeah, I just remembered." She lies, holding her tears and embarrassed. "He said he was going to stop by a friend's house, he probably lost track of time."

The conversation pretty much dies there, and after wishing her goodnight and promising to call in the morning again, she hangs up, feeling a hole in her chest.

She blankly stares at the TV for some minutes, dismayed, convinced she'll wake up any minute, and he'll be beside her. Messy hair, soft lips slightly apart, and his chest rising slowly in rhythm with his light snores. She'll cuddle him, bury her face in the crook of his neck and leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to his lips; he'll wake up and return the gesture, and they'll have morning sex and have breakfast together, and everything will be just fine.

This was all a nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

A nightmare.

Then, as a bucket of cold water, the cuckoo clock on the wall chimes, and her inner hell unleashes.

#jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy x y/n #angst #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #reader insert

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marblemoonstones · 5 months

Text

we were in screaming color 🩵

summary: starting a new series where I’m writing each of the boys as taylor swift eras! I’m choosing a song from each album and then writing a story with a specific trope about one of the boys. since there are ten eras and only seven members, three of the stories will be ot7.

I apologize if there are any minor holes or grammatical errors. feedback is welcome, but please be respectful. :)

*any similarities to other fics are accidental*

main masterlist

*warnings: f reader, curse words, angst, frustrating/toxic parents, car accident (nothing graphic)*

word count ~ 6.7k (longest fic written so far!! 🥳)

I’m super excited to start this series :) 💗 (song lyrics won’t start until later into the fic bc I had to add background details. most of the lyrics will be used)

song: out of the woods

album: 1989 (taylor’s version)

trope: small hometown romance

The year was 1989…

“Mom, dad, I have something to tell you,” I say, trying not to pace anxiously.

“Sweetie, is something wrong?” Mom asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Dad also looks nervous, as I never usually act in this manner. They’re both sitting on our worn cream couch, slightly sagging from overuse.

“Well…you know how I wanted to go pursue my architecture degree in Seoul?” I ask, remembering their horrified reactions to me having a desire to move out of our small hometown of Tonjung.

“Yes, I remember. And I also remember us not wanting you to leave,” Dad says, his face solemn and sure.

That’s funny. They both think I’m staying.

“I know, but I got into the University of Seoul School of Architecture,” I say, hoping that they’ll be at least a little proud. But knowing deep in my heart that they won’t care.

“Good for you honey, but I thought you were going to stay here and run the family business. You’re the only child we have, y/n. You have to carry on the legacy,” Mom says firmly.

“That’s what you want,” I sigh, already weary of the conversation, “But I want to go and live my dream.” Every time that I bring architecture up they always dismiss it. I don’t know whether or not it’s because they don’t believe in me or because they want me to follow their perfect vision.

“You and your dreams! Don’t you care about your family at all? Our dream is to be grandparents! Why don’t you settle down here and find a nice boy and-“

“Mom, dad, enough!” I hiss, my anger finally boiling over, “I don’t want to fucking live in your dream, I have a dream of my own. And I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity go to waste. I already paid for everything and set it up, so I just wanted to see if you were going to support me. But I guess not.”

My parents are now in shock, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. But I don’t care.

“Goodbye.”

And with that, I leave, grabbing my suitcases that I had hidden and waiting by the door. The tears prickle at the edge of my eyes.

“Honey!”

“Wait!”

They shout, but I ignore them. Opening the door, I run straight into a man. Oh, is this another poor soul that they’re trying to set me up with? Too bad for him.

I shove my shit into the car and start it. Turning out of the driveway, I’m off to my new life.

Thirteen years later

“Ms. Choi! We need you to sign this, approving the floor plan for the new hospital. We added all the details you requested and-“

(I don’t know anything about architecture, so I’m trying to not add details. I’m sorry if I’m inaccurate with anything!)

I sign it quickly and then walk to the meeting room. My assistant has a ‘new project’ that I’ll ‘definitely want to be a part of!’ That means one of two things: either it’s a horrible project and they’re trying to hype it up so I’ll do it, or it’s actually a good investment and I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

I tend to have a ‘pessimistic’ point of view, but that’s only because I have high standards. After graduating top of my class, I started a job at one of the top architect corporations, Park Designs. Slowly climbing the ranks, I am now one of the top architects at Park. And it only took me five years. Some of my classmates are still low class designers at middle-class businesses. Not to sound cocky of course, but I had to work my ass off in college and during my internships. While my classmates were out partying and drinking, I was working on my designs and making sure they was the best.

Stepping into the meeting room, I’m not surprised to see my assistant, Jungwoon, but I am surprised to see my boss Seonming. Seonming usually doesn’t come to these meetings, as she’s usually busy helping the CEO, Park Ji-young.

“Hello y/n, it’s good to see you,” Seonming says shaking my hand. I’ve always admired Seonming, partly because she’s an amazing architect and partly because she’s a high ranking woman in a usually male dominated field.

“Good morning Seonming, it’s good to see you too,” I say, meaning every word.

I take a seat in the plush chairs, glad to get the nice meeting room.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m in here. As you know, I don’t usually comes when there’s a new project for you,” Seonming starts, “But this project is especially personal, and I wanted to pitch it to you.”

Personal? What does she mean by that?

Jungwoon hands me the files before bowing and leaving the room.

“Before you look at it, please know that I specifically selected you for this project because I know that you like designing for the greater good. You have a good heart, y/n, and that’s why I chose you for this. Not for any other reason,” Seonming says, making me wonder what’s so special about this project.

I take a deep breath and open the files. Instantly, I see the location. Tonjung, South Korea. Oh no, oh no no no.

“Now, before you get all mad, please understand-“

“Seonming. You know why I can’t do this. I left that life behind for a reason,” I say, irritation rising in me. Seonming of all people knows why I can’t go back! I haven’t seen my parents in years, only talking to them at the holidays or our respective birthdays. Our relationship is formal at best.

“I know y/n, but please consider it. You haven’t even looked at the project yet,” Seonming says implored.

I know she’s right, as she always is, so I scan the summary. Building a new school? Did something happen to my elementary school?

“What happened to Tonjung Elementary?” I ask, thinking about the cozy and warm school I went to.

“There was an earthquake,” Seonming explains, “And it all but destroyed the current school. They need an architect who can rebuild the school, and I recommended you. Not because you used to live there, but because I knew you’d be able to do it justice.”

Damn. Seonming is really good at making someone feel guilty. She knows I’m a sucker for humanitarian projects, whether it be building a new hospital or, in this case, a new school.

Why didn’t I know that the earthquake happened? Why didn’t my parents tell me? I’m assuming it’s because they think I don’t care, but just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t have an attachment to the town I grew up in.

I sigh, already knowing my answer.

“Okay…I guess for Tonjung Elementary…” I grumble, trying to ignore the happy look on Seonming’s face.

“Great! You’ll have to stay there for a while, of course, but the project doesn’t start for another two weeks. That should give you enough time!” Seonming is being surprisingly brief with details. Usually she gives me a full run down and explains every last aspect.

“Okay…how long will this last?” I ask, suspicious.

“Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to last two to three years. Anyways, I’ll send the rest of the information soon! Have a good day y/n!” Seonming leaves in a rush, clearly trying to avoid me so I can’t back out.

Two to three years? In my hometown? With my parents? Oh boy. What did I just agree to?

Two weeks fly by and before I know it I’m leaving with a lot of my stuff. Even though I may come back to the city once in a while, it won’t be often because the drive from Seoul to Tonjung is a good seven hours.

“Goodbye y/n! Have safe travels and try to have a little fun,” Jungwoon says. He’s handling my office while I’m gone. I trust him, and I know he’ll do a good job.

“Thanks, Jungwoon. And don’t forget to text me if there are any problems!” I call, waving as I drive off.

I put on music and try to enjoy the long drive. It is beautiful by the coast, and if I ignore the awkwardness with my parents, then going back home isn’t too bad.

I’m just glad that I’m staying at an Air BnB because otherwise I’d have to endure my parents’ constant nagging about how I left them, how I need to settle down, and all that bullshit. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time to find a partner. I want to keep working towards my goal, becoming a CEO (like Park Ji-young) of my own architectural business.

The drive passes by quickly, and soon the tall skyscrapers of Seoul turn into quaint houses with chipping paint.

I pull into the Air BnB and get out of my car. Breathing in the salty air, I feel the crisp breeze on my skin. It’s June and the weather is a bit hot at times so the breeze is a nice reprieve. I start yo unload my stuff and place it in the bedroom. This is a nice Air BnB because it has all the essentials (washer, dryer, dishwasher, etc.) for one person.

I go to the bathroom and freshen up. After changing my clothes, I decide to rip the bandaid off and go to my parents since it’s only about 3 in the afternoon.

Tonjung is small enough to walk place to place, and my parents’ house is only a couple blocks over from the Air BnB.

I steady myself before knocking on the door. The aqua paint that used to be cheerful and welcoming now feels cheap and tacky.

The door opens, and my dad’s face appears. He opens the door slightly wider for me to come in, but I can tell he’s not that happy to see me.

“Hi honey, come on in. Your mom’s in the living room.” He shuts the door behind me and I feel as though I’m heading straight to my doom.

I cautiously step into the room and see my mom.

“Hi mom…it’s good to see you again,” I say, tentative of how this visit will go.

She turns her head.

“Hi sweetie. How are you?” It’s turning into another one of our phone calls. Only this time I can’t make an excuse and hang up.

“I’m fine. It’s good to be back.” I hesitate on what to say next, trying to break the awkwardness that’s lingering in the air like stale perfume.

“Good to have you back. Maybe this time you’ll stay,” mom says, and I stiffen.

“You know I had to go. And look at me now, I’ve achieved so much.” I always try my hardest to make my parents proud, even if they don’t know it.

“Yes honey, you have. So why don’t you come back here for good? You can do your building business or whatever it is you do from here.”

Mom never understands. It’s not just a ‘building business,’ it’s my life. I have big goals, and they’re only going to happen if I keep pursuing them.

“Mom, you know I can’t move back here. I have to continue in Seoul because that’s where there are better opportunities for me,” I try to explain. Before anyone can say anything else, I hear a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Namjoon,” my dad says, going to open the door.

Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?

“Hey Namjoon! Yes yes, come on in. She’s right here.” Dad leads the handsome man over to me.

“Hey, y/n! Long time no see.”

Kim Namjoon sure has grown into those long legs and dimples. His eyes have always been beautifully sculpted, but they’re even more gorgeous now. I notice that he’s got some serious muscles in him now too. Seems he’s discovered working out.

“Hey Namjoon. Haven’t seen you in a while,” I say, trying (and failing) not to seem awkward.

“Namjoon here has grown up, hasn’t he y/n? And he even stayed in town,” Mom says pointedly.

I roll my eyes. So small town Namjoon stayed in the small town. Mom and dad probably wish he was their child.

“Okay, mom. I get it. Now, not to break up whatever this-“ I gesture to mom and I- “is, why did you call Namjoon here?”

“Oh! It’s because I’m the principal of Tonjung Elementary. We’ll be working together on the rebuilding a lot,” Namjoon explains.

“Oh that’s fun…” I trail off, not sure what else to say. Yay? Spending two to three years working with someone I haven’t seen in ages?

“Yes it is! Now, why don’t you two mosey on down to the beach and get to know each other after such a long time. I’m sure there’s much to catch up on. And your father and I have to go to the store.” Mom practically forces us out, and before I know it Namjoon and I are standing outside the front door. So much for subtleness. Mom just wants me to find a boyfriend.

“That was quick,” I mumble, “Even for them.” Usually our visits on the phone last at least fifteen minutes, but this one breaks the record with being about five.

Namjoon chuckles. I blush, not knowing that he heard me.

“Well, it seems that we are supposed to go to the beach. Shall we?” Polite as ever, Namjoon is.

“Sure. We shall.”

Traipsing down we make our way to the beach and I immediately take off of my shoes to feel the sand. I find a good spot and sit down and stare at the ocean. The crashing waves do little to smooth my mind.

“So…” Namjoon starts, sitting down next to me. “You escaped. And you’re very successful now. I’ve seen you in magazines and such.”

Magazines? My name is almost never mentioned but I suppose there were a couple pieces written about my various projects.

“Heh, yeah. I’m lucky to be where I am today,” I affirm as I start drawing hearts in the sand.

“Yeah…the last time I saw you you weren’t doing the best so I’m glad you made it.” Namjoon has a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. Pity? Sympathy?

“Wait when was the last time I saw you?” I don’t remember seeing him since high school graduation.

“When you were leaving. For college. After,” Namjoon winces, “The fight with your parents.”

Wait how did he see me then? Unless-

“YOU were the man outside the door! I thought it was another random man my parents were trying to set me up with!” I exclaim.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly.

“Well…that was me. And I wasn’t just there for fun…”

“Ohhh so you were another poor suitor sent by my parents,” I side eye him for a second before we both burst into laughter.

“Ah yes, that’s me. A ‘suitor’ for you! Perhaps you should like to date me madam?” Namjoon says in an accent.

As I laugh, I think, Was he always this funny? I guess he’s more goofy now than in high school.

“Nah, I’m not ready to date anyone. I have to start my own architectural corporation first,” I say wistfully. Someday.

“Oh yeah, I bet you’ll be able to do that. You always were so driven, even in high school,” Namjoon says, reminiscing.

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I remember when I missed senior homecoming because I had to study.”

I wanted to go, but I had a huge AP chem test the next day that I ‘couldn’t afford to fail.’ So, while my other classmates were dancing to ‘Party Rock’ I was at home poring over my textbooks. It paid off, I suppose, because I aced the test, but it wasn’t worth missing homecoming.

“Those dances weren’t that fun anyways,” Namjoon says, breaking my train of thought.

“Oh! Yes I guess they weren’t. I wonder how everyone’s doing nowadays. I haven’t spoken to any of them in ages,” I mused. I’m only friends with some of them on social media, and even then I don’t check it frequently enough to know what’s happening in their lives.

“Remember Cho Eun Jung? Well, now she’s a famous fashion designer. Heard her designs were featured in Paris Fashion Week or something. And little Kim Ha-Joon? He has a family of his own now. They moved to America a while ago,” Namjoon notes, nose crinkling as he thinks.

“Wow. Seems as if everyone’s out there living their life and I’m stuck in Seoul, single and still pursuing my dream career,” I say, melancholy sinking in. The truth is, what have I done with my life? Sure, I’m a successful architect but I’m not famous and I don’t have a family. I’m not even close with the family that I do have.

“Hey, don’t think of yourself that way. You’re still successful, I mean only five years and now you’re a top architect at one of the top corporations. I’d say that’s impressive,” Namjoon says, making me laugh.

“Thanks, Namjoon. And look at you, principal on Tonjung Elementary. That’s impressive. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Mr. Han?” Mr. Han was our principal when Namjoon and I went to Tonjung.

“I don’t mind at all, and he retired. I think he’s living around here somewhere with his wife,” replies Namjoon. I’m glad that Mr. Han retired, he deserves it. That man was an excellent principal.

“Oh, that’s good. I’m happy for him. I’m also happy for you, and I’m happy that we can catch up. I mean, we are going to be working together for a couple years,” I say sheepishly.

“That’s true. I’m glad that it’s you who I’m working with,” Namjoon says, flashing me a smile, his dimples prominent.

I smile back.

“Me too.”

(I won’t be adding many details about the new school design because I am not an architect and don’t want to mess up anything about the process :))

The months pass by in a whirlwind with planning and sketching the new school. Namjoon and I try to make it similar to the old one, but there are a few modern adjustments that we add.

Currently, all of the students are having to go to school in a neighboring town. Namjoon and I work as quickly as we can so that they can come back and attend school here.

September arrives and with it cooler weather. The leaves are starting to turn their gorgeous shades and I start wearing my knit sweaters.

One day I’m heading over to Namjoon’s house because I forgot my laptop charger. I knock on his cerulean door and he answers, smiling that cute grin of his.

“Hey y/n! Come on in. I’m assuming you’re here for your laptop charger?”

I step inside, replying “Yes! I can’t believe I left it here. I’m so forgetful sometimes.”

I grab it off of the coffee table, and am about to leave when Namjoon clears his throat.

“Would…you like to stay for a bit? I remember you wanting to watch that new k-drama and it just came out. You don’t have to though if you don’t want to! Sorry, I just thought maybe-“

“Namjoon,” I interrupt, smiling internally at his shyness, “It’s fine. I’d love to stay for a while. I’m glad that you remember when the k-drama was coming out because I sure didn’t!”

After popping popcorn (our second bag as Namjoon burnt the first batch) and grabbing sodas we settle down to watch ‘Business Proposal’ (I know it didn’t come out this early but I love this k-drama okay? 😭).

We binged the whole season that afternoon. After the last episode my stomach hurt from all the popcorn and soda but my heart was full.

“The last scene was so pretty! Those cherry blossoms…” I sigh as I lean back into the couch, “I can only dream to have such a perfect proposal someday.”

“I know the right person will come along y/n. Just wait and see,” Namjoon says with such certainty that I look at him. How does he know that I’ll find someone?

“Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, letting my head drop to the couch. If I close my eyes, I can just imagine that this little moment was perfect. Namjoon and I in a perfect bubble. No outsiders or prying parents to belittle me.

‎♪ looking at it now

it all seems so simple ‎♪

I hear the sound of a flash and open my eyes to see Namjoon holding a Polaroid camera.

“Hey! Did you just take a picture of me?” I gasp at him as he grins sheepishly.

“Maybe?”

“Why?” I ask him, trying to grab the camera out of his hand.

“Because! Look,” Namjoon says, showing me the picture.

I look so pensive, eyes closed to the world. The sun beams down through the window and hits my face perfectly like I’m in a movie. My hair is spread on the couch in a surprisingly beautiful way.

‎♪ we were lying on your couch

I remember ‎♪

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a touch for photography Namjoon!” I praise, seeing the man blush.

“Oh, it’s not that hard when I have a great subject to photograph.” Namjoon waves off the compliment.

“Can I keep the picture?” I ask, grinning excitedly when he drops it into my hands, “Thanks!”

Namjoon holds the camera out in front of both of us. “Let’s take a selfie together, y/n.”

“Okay!” I say, getting close and throwing up a peace sign. Flash!

‎♪ you took a Polaroid of us

then discovered ‎♪

The picture comes out beautifully, the sun hitting the two of us just right and our beaming faces genuine.

“Aww, we look so cute Namjoon. Why don’t you keep this picture because you let me keep the first one. A memory when we watched Business Proposal!” I cheer, feeling happy for the first time in a while.

When was the last time I let myself just be with someone? No work, no worrying about parents or expectations. Just me and them.

‎♪ the rest of the world was black and white

but we were in screaming color ‎♪

I blink, surprised with my sudden desire to cry. Was my life so monotone that simple moments like these made me happy? Did…Namjoon make me happy? No, it was just the fun of hanging out with someone. That’s why, I’m riding the high of having a true friendship. No other reason.

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

It’s December and the air is cooler as winter sneaks in. I’m over at his house about a week until Christmas, complaining about my parents (yet again).

“They want me to go to their annual Christmas party! Which is fine, because, like, my family will be there, but that means a night of suffering as they compare me to my cousins. Half of my cousins are married, some have children, and the others at least live close by. I don’t check any of those boxes so they’ll just use the night to make me feel guilty!” I rant while sitting on Namjoon’s couch.

‎♪ looking at it now

last this december ‎♪

Namjoon winces.

“I’m sorry…do your parents even know how they make you feel?”

“But it’s not just my family! You know my parents, they invite the whole damn town!” I plow on, then stop after realizing Namjoon said something, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said that I’m sorry and asked if your parents know how bad they make you feel. It’s obvious they don’t, but have you tried talking to them about it?” Namjoon repeats.

“Oh, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault they’re this way. And yeah, I have tried to talk to them. Since high school, actually, when I told them I wanted to pursue being an architect. But they turned it down immediately! They didn’t even listen to me!” I put my head into my hands.

Namjoon puts his arm around me in a half hug.

“I wish there was a way for me to help you, y/n. If it makes you feel any better, I can come to the party with you. Your parents did invite me.”

Of course they did. They want me to find someone so desperately that they probably invited all of the eligible bachelors in Tonjung.

I lean into Namjoon’s hug, trying to absorb some of his calming aura.

‎♪ we were built to fall apart

then fall back together ‎♪

The day of the dreaded party arrives and I shove myself into a sparkly red dress that’s itchy and uncomfortable. I feel like a present.

At precisely 5:20pm my doorbell rings. Grabbing my purse I open the door to see Namjoon. In a suit. Wow, he cleans up nice.

“Joon! You look great. That suit looks great on you,” I babble. Since when have I been nervous around him?

“Same to you! Well, not about the suit but that dress. Looks really good on you,” Namjoon stumbles out. Looks like I’m not the only awkward one.

I smile.

“Thank you Namjoon. Shall we?”

“Oh! Before we leave, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.” He brings out a small velvet box from behind his back.

I gasp, then say, “Joon! You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn’t get you anything!”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says, stepping inside, “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that we’re friends.”

He hands me the box and I open it. Inside is a simple chain necklace with a gold North Star charm at the end. I look closer at it and realize-

“Namjoon! This is your necklace! I can’t accept this. It’s yours!” I try to give him the box back but he refuses.

“Please accept it. It will look perfect on you,” Namjoon pleads, and after trying again to give it back but failing, I accept it.

“Okay, Joon, thank you. It’s beautiful. Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course.”

He takes it out gently and brings it in front of my neck. Fastening it carefully I look down at it.

It fits perfectly.

‎♪ ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck

the night we couldn’t quite forget ‎♪

The party is dull. My parents compare me to my cousins, introduce me to tasteless men, and force me to talk to their judgmental friends. Luckily, Joon is there to help ease some of the pain. We last about an hour before leaving, saying we have ‘work to do on the design.’ To which my parents ignore. Oh well. Who cares? Not me.

Namjoon and I go to his house after (we always go to his house instead of my Air BnB because I said it feels more cozy). We collapse on the couch and laugh, thinking about our escapades at the party. Counting how many mini quiches my cousin ate, seeing how many chocolates we could sneak into Namjoon’s pocket.

“Hey! Why don’t we do karaoke? That’ll be fun way to ring in Christmas!” Namjoon says excitedly. And he’s right. It is Christmas Eve after all.

“Okay,” I agree. And we move the coffee table and chairs and then plug in the machine. After a couple rounds we tire out and decide to just listen to the Christmas radio. Jingle Bell Rock comes on and I find myself pulling Namjoon up off the couch.

“C’mon Joon, dance with me!” He’s reluctant at first but eventually we find a rhythm, happy and free.

‎♪ when we decided, we decided

to move the furniture so we could dance ‎♪

White Christmas comes on and Namjoon grabs my hand and we start to slowly ‘waltz’ around the room (it’s mostly swaying). I feel my heart start to beat faster, my face flush.

‎♪ baby, like we stood a chance ‎♪

I can feel Namjoon’s body heat and force myself to look into his eyes. Those, caring, sweet, beautiful eyes. He looks back at me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I slowly press my lips to his. He doesn’t pull away.

‎♪ two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying ‎♪

I spend the night, wearing his clothes and sleeping next to him. We cuddle up and wake up together on Christmas morning.

“Good morning beautiful,” Namjoon says in his deep morning voice.

I blush.

“Good morning Joon,” I reply, trying to hide my face.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” I say, still thinking of what I could give him.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You are the best gift.”

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

December turns to April, four months of dating Namjoon. My parents are overjoyed, but I manage to ignore their suggestive comments and instead focus on the man himself.

Valentine’s Day is a whole affair, Namjoon giving me the biggest bouquet of wildflowers, handpicked by him. And if that wasn’t enough, he also gifts me a whole bouquet of chocolate-covered strawberries (which he found out are my most favorite food ever). I get him a moon necklace that matches my North Star one, teasing, “Now we can be one of those cheesy couples who have matching necklaces.”

On a muddy spring day in March we make a spontaneous trip to a neighboring town’s traveling carnival. After buying sugary cotton candy and popcorn, Namjoon and I try our hands at the games. We each win a stuffed animal for each other, me winning him a koala and him winning me a giant panda. Their names are Koya and James respectively. The carousel is fun, us holding hands like lovesick teenagers the entire time and (probably) annoying all the kids riding. At the end of the day Namjoon and I go on the Ferris wheel, kissing sweetly at the top beneath the velvet starry sky.

Namjoon makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. My self esteem has definitely improved and my heart is constantly full. He treats me like a queen and I hope that I treat him like the king that he is.

We go on cute dates around town. Coffee shop dates on rainy days, reading for hours on end at the library, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries at the park. Although, I think the best ones are either a simple afternoon at the beach or cuddling on the couch.

We often dance together in his living room, two souls in their own world. Just like the day of the Polaroid picture (which he has up on his wall), I feel as though I’m in my own bubble of joy.

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

But not all good things last forever.

Talk of the future rarely come up, but when it does Namjoon is surprisingly avoidant of answering anything. I know that I have my job in the city, and I also know that he loves the beach and being away from crowds of people. How could this work?

A particularly bad argument leads to me storming out, irritated that Namjoon doesn’t want to discuss our relationship after the school is finished. And with how far it’s progressing, it looks to be done in about a year.

“Sweetheart, please. I’m not ready to talk about this yet because I don’t want to think about it,” Namjoon implores as I start to gather my things.

“You’re never ready. We have to talk about it someday, and I need to know about the future of us.” I’m so frustrated about this reoccurring disagreement, and this is a sign that it’s time for me to leave. “I’m leaving, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” His hand on my arm only further annoys me.

“Sweets, please don’t leave. I just…have commitment issues. Forgive me, but thinking that far ahead makes me feel tied down. I just want to live in the moment,” he pleads.

I look into those dark eyes and see something vulnerable and raw in there. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that says to stay but I turn and go out the door.

“Y/n!”

‎♪ remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

twenty stitches in a hospital room ‎♪

I get into my car and start driving in the downpour. I don’t know where I’m going, but I do know that I need to get out of this town.

The rocky cliffs are jagged in the lightning and I angrily pump the gas once more. I see a shape dart out and try to hit the brakes. But I’m too slow. All I see is black as the world fades away.

‎♪ when you started crying, baby, I did too

but when the sun came up, I was looking at you ‎♪

I groggily open my eyes and the first thing I see is a body sitting in a chair. As I come to, I also notice curtains and an IV. I’m in a hospital.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you leave I should’ve made you stay and you could’ve died…”

Namjoon.

He’s here.

I turn to look at him and smile weakly.

“Joon, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

Those words seem to break him and he comes and holds me close while sobbing.

‎♪ I was looking at you ‎♪

After he’s calmed down he tells me what happened. I hit a deer last night and had a concussion. After finding me and rushing me to the hospital I had to have twenty stitches (this probably isn’t accurate and I apologize).

Namjoon tells me that my parents have come to visit but I wasn’t awake when they came. It’s now two pm.

“I’m so sorry. So so sorry. It was my fault and I shouldn’t have let you leave-“

“Namjoon.” I cut off his rambling, “You sound like a broken record. It’s okay. I’m okay. Can we talk about what happened before the accident?” I know it’s quick, but I need to know before another horrible happens.

I feel his hand tense before he says, “Sure.”

“Please, Namjoon, tell me why you have commitment issues. I want to know everything about you. Please tell me. I want to be with you, I want to stay with you, but we need to be able to trust each other. Trust me, Namjoon,” I beg, trying to understand.

‎♪ remember when we couldn’t take the heat?

I walked out, I said “I’m setting you free” ‎♪

Namjoon casts his eyes down.

“I’m sorry y/n…you deserve to know. I-I’ll do my best to explain it.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The future used to be something I would obsess over, planned to the very last detail. I had a girlfriend that I dated all through college, and I truly thought that she was the one.” It doesn’t bother me that Namjoon had another girlfriend, but I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about her sooner.

“She was a part of my future, but I suddenly found out that she’s been cheating. That changed everything. My whole future was thrown askew. It was then that I decided to live freely and not worry about the future because I didn’t know what was in store. To not be tied down and to be spontaneous,” Namjoon finishes.

‎♪ but the monsters turned out to be just trees ‎♪

It makes so much sense, why he wants to live this free life. I understand that his past girlfriend scarred him in many ways, and I don’t blame him for being nervous. But I still wish he would’ve told me all this.

“I understand Namjoon, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why didn’t you tell me this before? I know we’ve only been dating for a couple months, but I feel that this is something important to share.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you all this. Do you think you could forgive me? I promise that I will try to be more open and think a little bit more about my future with you,” Namjoon vows.

“I will forgive you. Eventually. But we need to work on communication if we want this to work.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Deal.”

He leans over to kiss my cheek.

‎♪ when the sun came up you were looking at me ‎ ‎♪

And I let him.

‎♪ you were looking at me ‎♪

Two years later

The beach is hardly crowded today, only a few people set up with their umbrellas. Which is surprising, since it’s the start of summer. I guess the tourist waves hasn’t hit yet.

Joon carries a picnic basket in one hand and holds mine in his other. He says that he has a surprise date planned, but I don’t see much of a surprise because of the picnic basket.

We decided that it was best to take things slow, build up trust within one another. While the school was being finished, we took time to relax and get to know each other a bit better. Joon opened up more and I listened and now I better understand him. After the school was done, we had a big talk about our future.

I decided to quit my job and start my own architecture business in Tonjung, letting me live that CEO life while also being in Namjoon’s life. It’s a pretty successful corporation, as my main goal was to focus on smaller towns and help them.

I also had a big talking to with my parents. I explained how I felt and tried to get them to listen and understand me. They still want grandchildren, but they’re a little more understanding now of how that may or may not happen.

Joon and I aren’t even married yet, let alone thinking about children. Right now, all I want to do is enjoy this picnic ‘surprise’ date that he’s set up.

“Here’s the perfect spot for the picnic,” Joon says, leading me to a place away from other people while also being shaded. So much for a surprise.

We spread the blanket out then open the basket. I instantly see the chocolate-covered strawberries that I adore so much and grab one to munch on.

“You and your strawberries,” Joon says fondly, shaking his head at me.

“Hey, what can I say, I love them,” I mumble with my mouth full.

Joon laughs and I see those dimples of his pop out. That grin still never fails to make me have butterflies.

“And I love you.” He kisses the top of my head.

We enjoy the picnic and as we’re packing up Joon stops me.

“Wait, y/n, I have the surprise.”

I look at him questioningly as he pulls out a tiny box.

Then he gets down on one knee.

I start to go teary-eyed.

“Choi y/n, I know this isn’t a cherry blossom proposal from Business Proposal-“

I laugh at that, thinking about that evening.

“-but I hope this is just as special. You are the most talented, smart, amazing, and gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Even in high school you were already surpassing everyone else. I’m so lucky to call you my girlfriend. Thank you for putting up with me and for loving me as I am. You never fail to make me laugh and always make me feel better when I’m having a rough day. I trust you more than anyone and I love you more than you will ever know.”

I let the tears fall as Joon finishes.

“And with that, I ask you, Choi y/n, will you marry me?”

Blinking, I answer the question.

“Yes.”

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods?

are we in the clear yet?

in the clear yet, good ‎♪

thanks for reading! 💕

#bts #bts x reader #kimnamjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift eras #1989 taylor's version #1989 x bts #marblemoonstones #bangtan boys x ts eras - mm #romance #tropes

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iriel3000 · 6 months

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When Will You Let Her Go?

Whumptober Day 8: “It’s all for nothing.”

LAURA WHUMP, emotional whump, light whump

DISCLAIMER: I am legally allowed to torment the fictional character of Laura Barton (and Bruce Banner) this month.

AN: You are going to learn a lot about my writing process this month, sorry. Most of the whump fics will be 3rd or 4th round drafts. I normally spend weeks, if not months editing. Many of these pieces will be written days, if not hours, before the prompt is due. please forgive any spelling or grammar errors, or if these don't seem up to my usual standard.

thank you for indulging me tho😘

Summary: Laura calls the kids while they are in New York with Clint and Kate. part 1 of 3

“Hey, is everybody having fun?”

“Hi, mom!” Lila circled around Kate Bishop's penthouse with her phone, making Laura dizzy on the facetime call. “We’re having the best time! Look at Kate’s place!”

Clint was in New York helping Kate get ready for her first round of SWORD training and had taken Cooper, Lila, and Nate with him.

“Summer in New York is sooo much better than the winter.”

“What have you been doing? Where are your brothers?”

“They’re right here.” She turned the phone towards Cooper and Nate.

Laura blinked. She thought she was looking at an arcade. The room was huge with various ping pong, fooseball , and pool tables, along with old, upright video games. Cooper was playing online games on a theater size screen and Nate had VR goggles on, punching and kicking the air.

“Hi Mom!” Cooper shouted, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Hi, sweetie. Hello, Nathan.”

Nate continued playing.

“He can’t hear you.” Lilia swung the phone back around. “Anyway, we swam at Kate’s friend’s house. She has a pool on the roof of her apartment building!”

“Wow, that sounds fun.”

“Way more fun swimming at the Waverly community pool. We also saw Rogers the Musical again and got to meet the entire cast afterwards.” Lila went into the largest bathroom Laura had ever seen and rummaged through some drawers.

“Thought you guys said that play was silly when you saw it at Christmas?”

“Yeah, but we met some of the actors in Central Park a few days ago, it was really cool. The guy that plays dad does not look like him at all.” She laughed and began putting on makeup. “Ms. Nadia gave us box seats.”

“Miss Nadia?”

“She plays Aunt Nat. She's super nice, Mom, and really pretty. She could be Aunt Nat’s twin; they look that much alike.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, and she taught me some ballet moves to take back to my class. Ms. Nadia says I should take jazz classes if I want to be on Broadway like her.”

“But, I thought you were…”

“She’s an amazing dancer, Mom. Dad said she can do all the moves from Swan Lake, like Aunt Nat. She said she would teach me those too.”

“Is your dad there?”

“No, Kate is with us.”

“Why? Where did he go?”

“He had to help Ms. Nadia get some stuff for her Black Widow costume. Guess what?”

“What?” She asked, not thrilled with this new information.

Why would Clint need to help the Black Widow dancer with her costume? The play had been running for almost a year.

“Kate got us Taylor Swift concert tickets!! A suite by all of the celebrities. And we get to take a huge purple, Hummer limousine. I can’t wait!”

“You guys are supposed to come home tomorrow.”

“Dad said we could stay a few more days to go to the concert and to the Hamptons with Kate and her friends. It's summer vacation, Mom.”

“I know.” Laura tried not to sound too disappointed.

This weekend was her and Clint's wedding anniversary. The children were supposed to go to their cousin's house to spend the night so she and Clint could have a romantic evening.

They hadn't had much alone time. Since his retirement, Clint had been keeping busy fixing up the house and visiting New York every couple of months to help Kate.

“Come on, please.” Lila begged.

“Lila! Where are you?” Clint hollered in the background.

“Daddy’s home!”

“Home?” Laura balked, but Lila ignored her.

“Dad! Talk to Mom. Shes using that voice when she doesn’t like something.”

“Why?” Clint came in and gave Lila a hug.

“I told her about staying a few days and she has that tone, as usual.” Lila handed the phone to him.

He covered the screen with his hand.

"I'll take care of it." Laura heard Clint whisper.

“Hey, hon.” Clint removed his hand and she saw him check on the boys.

“You’re staying longer?”

“Is that a problem?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“When I got back here. Didn’t know the kids were going to call you.” Clint walked down a long hallway to a massive kitchen.

“I called, she emphasized the 'I', “ because you were supposed to call me at noon.”

“Kate, where’d we put the putty?” Clint hollered to his protege somewhere in the penthouse.

“Clint!” Laura yelled.

“What?”

She blew out a breath loudly.

“It’s only our anniversary this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah. Happy anniversary, babe.”

“No, this weekend…”

“I’ll send you some flowers and New York candy. The kids and I went to Dylan’s and went crazy.”

Kate came into the room.

“Tell Cooper to finish his game, we gotta go.” Clint said.

"Is that Nadia? Tell her our matching shirts for the concert came in"

“No, it’s Laura.”

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Kate stuck her face into frame and waved.

“Hi, Kate.” Laura tried to muster some enthusiasm.

“Cooper, get Nate and let's go!” Kate bounded out.

“Clint.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He finally looked into the phone. “What were you saying?”

“So, when are you coming home?”

“I changed the flights to Monday.”

“That’s almost another week.’

“It’s not like the kids have school.”

“I thought we could spend our anniversary together.”

“Seventeen years, it’s not one of the milestones.”

“That’s rude.”

“I mean,” he rolled his eyes, “our daughter has a once in a lifetime opportunity to see her favorite singer at Madison Square Garden in premium seats. For free. We could not afford to do this for her. Do you really want to make her come home so we can go to Applebee’s?”

“I guess not.”

“She’ll think you’re the best mom for letting her stay.”

“Well, let me talk to her one more time.”

“She’s already out the door with Kate and the boys.”

Laura didn’t hide her annoyance.

“I promise she’ll call you tomorrow. We have to go meet Nat and the others. Have a good time with your girls.” He set the phone down.

“What did you say?”

“Have a good time." He picked it back up but all Laura could see was walls. "I’ll tell the kids you miss them. Bye, hon.”

“Wait…”

He hung up.

Laura stared at her phone for a long moment before flinging it on the bed. She gathered up the little, black nightie she’d bought for this weekend and shoved it back in the bag.

find the whole series here....laura whump

#whumptober2023 #no. 3 #it's all for nothing #marvel #clintasha #fic #light whump #hawkeye #black widow #laura barton #natasha romanov #clint barton #when will you let her go

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multifanderwrites · 3 months

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Actual author’s notes I’ve written about Anakin Skywalker/ Darth Vader (they get progressively more thirsty and unhinged/ trying to remind myself that this man is morally fucked up but also deeply tragic. I just love him a lot! Okay? I know I’m biased. I’m trying my hardest. Also, not even close to the full list)

[🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴. Must not sing “Antihero”]

[guys, this is future Darth Vader. 😢]

[boy, do I have news for you]

[honey, Hurricane Ahsoka is coming. You’re gonna have a grand old time, my friend. But your heart will break, and I am so sorry]

[wait for it] yes, this one is from attack of the clones. No, I’m not gonna tell you which scene

[listen. In the Mixiverse, it is a rule for me that any commonly used comfort character is automatically guaranteed to be an ally of minority groups. Plus, that’s what I interpreted from Hayden’s… gorgeous acting in this scene. Hayden, your acting is gorgeous just like your face. Too much? Too much]

[🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Anakin, you’re being a hypocrite. Yes, I’m making Anakin a hypocrite here. Why? Because it’s funny]

[🥲. You will literally hate everything including yourself, Anakin. But keep talking]

[Maybe stop talking, sweetheart]

[Anakin, right now, by having attachments, you are breaking the Jedi Code. 🤣 but go off, king. Ily]

[sweetie, you are practically a window. We can see right through you]

[honey, you are a window… AND WE CAN SEE THROUGH YOU!!!!]

[oh, hypocrisy, how I love thee]

[oh, honey. I’m so sorry for what I’m going to do to you. Please blame it all on George Lucas]

[oh, honey. I am so sorry for what’s coming]

[I was gonna be thirsty but then I realized that I should… definitely save it for when it’s more appropriate. So instead, I’ll just say something less worthy of one of those tweets you’d see in a Buzzfeed video- get on that one with Hayden!- because… well… soft. Here we go: Hayden Christensen’s voice makes me feel heart flutters when he says this line]

[quick thirst comment: I wanna lay down on Anakin Skywalker’s soft chest, preferably when he has no shirt on. Oh, did you expect me to be a ho? You can find me being a ho in the far more mature Mixiverse stories under the name “The Justice League of Avengers”. Oh, I can already hear it: “BuT LAsT NiGhT iN SoHO iS iN ThE MIx-INs: ThE InTerLuDe YEArS, aNd ThAT mOviE iS abOUT AnYA TayLor JOy’S ChAracTer bEiNg tRiCked inTo an UndErgROUND SeX RiNG!“ YES! BUT THE MOVIE IS ALSO VERY SCARY AND HAS LOTS OF BLOOD AND JUMPSCARES!!! THE FIRST INTERLUDE YEAR IS MATURE IN THE SENSE THAT YOU WILL HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT THE SOURCE MATERIAL IF YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THAT SHIT!!! FUCK OFF! But yeah. Hayden’s chest really is something else, but what about- Never mind. Just… let’s keep going. We’re about halfway through Part One of this episode. 😓]

[YES! DUDE! YES! FUCKING ASK FOR HIS HELP, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! OMG!!!!]

[terrible idea, Anakin. Terrible idea. But go off, king. You hot, sexy king]

[honey, you’re being groomed]

[honey, no!!!! You’re being groomed! Run the fuck away! 😭]

[I have been waiting for this moment… and I’m sure all of you have as well. Alexa, play Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift]

[mother of god! Why?! OMG!!!! THIS VOICE! SIR!!!!]

[yes! Drag him!]

[🥺🥺🥺🥺 why u smiling like that? My heart can’t take it. None of us can take it. You murdered people. Why? What is this fuckery? WHAT WAS THE REASON, HAYDEN?!]

[bro!!!! THE WINDPIPES OF YOUR WIFE! STOP IT! OMG! DO NOT DAEMYRA THIS SHIT!!! THINK RATIONALLY!]

[omg. My poor baby. You killed people. On behalf of an asshole, but you still killed people. “Is that what this is about?” Don’t- Don’t give me that Canadian accent. Don’t you dare. Come on, my guy. This is not gonna fly in court. This also totally isn’t foreshadowing for anything. STOP CHANTING NINE-NINE!]

[aw, my poor little meow meow]

[woah! Too far. I get you’re upset but that was… shit, bro, you doing too much]

[don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it-]

[shut the fuck up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

[dude!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You fucking donkey! I am so disappointed in you, man! I understand your pain but holy fuck! But hey. Now you understand the point here: the impact goes both ways!]

[because she’s your daughter, you dumb fuck!!! I mean, my poor little meow meow]

[dude… not cool. I know you’re in a ton of agony right now but this is fucked up. But oh well. Just Vader things- What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m so sorry]

[hey. You said the thing. I hate you, but I love you. So much. HONEY!!!! WE SHOULDVE GOTTEN YOU THERAPY! 😭😭😭😭😭😭]

[oh my god!!!!! Dude! You’re such a dramatic bitch. But I love you so much]

[hah! He’s an annoying brother… but he’s also an evil bastard. And we love him regardless. Oh shit. That’s right. HE TERRORIZED DOROTHY!!! FUCK YOU, MY GUY!]

[dude… you know you had three other people helping you in that hallway, right? Even when he’s evil, he’s still getting all the glory]

#fanfiction #the mixiverse #star wars #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #darth vader #the mix ins #the original trilogy #the prequel trilogy #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader

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shitswiftiessay · 2 months

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….. whatever that means.

#bisexuals sweetie i am so sorry #shit swifties say #anti taylor swift

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harmonyindark245 · 1 year

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ONE LAST TIME [Chapter 1]

Summary - Elain and Azriel have known each other since they were 11 and had never been separated. But when their view for their future no longer matches, things break apart between them, causing a rift which had never been fixed. Elain goes on to become a neurosurgeon, while Azriel works for the deadlier part of the community. Ten years later, their lives get entangled as they cross paths, this time stakes much greater than just their hearts.

An: All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas

Warnings: Mature language, violence, alcohol consumption, smoking, drugs

Hope you all enjoy!

Masterlist

Songs:

We Don’t Talk Anymore - Charlie Puth Ft. Selena Gomez Numb - Linkin Park Outlaw - Selena Gomez and the Scene

“And the award goes to… Taylor Swift!” Elain jumped up from her seat as she heard the announcement. “YES! She exclaimed, happy that her favorite singer got awarded. In all her excitement, her feet got tangled up in between her throw blanket and she tripped, landing on her couch with a thump.

A high pitched chuckle drew her attention towards the corner of the room. She gasped dramatically as she saw her nine year old son laughing at her.

“Daemon! What are you doing up this late?” She asked as she stood up, untangling herself from the blanket.

Her son smiled back at her, one tooth missing. “I was waiting for you to come back home, but I guess I fell asleep. Then I heard you chanting Taylor Swift and I woke up.” Elain smiled sheepishly at her son.

“Well, I’m sorry for waking you up with my racket. But why were you waiting for me?” She moved towards him, taking in his disheveled hair and wrinkled pajamas.

“Because, I learned how to make my own tie! So now I can go to the party with you and Graysen!” His eyes were bright with hope as he said those words.

Elain held back a sigh. She had forgotten all about the ball that was taking place the day after. Her fiance, Graysen, worked under his father who was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company. The ball was being held in honor of Graysen’s father retiring and was going to announce Graysen as his successor.

“But Dae, I already told you that it’s for big people, only. No kids are allowed.” Elain explained as Daemon continued to look at her with hopeful eyes.

“But mom I am big.” he said in the same tone as Elain. “Uncle Lu said that a grown man can make his own tie!” Elain was pretty sure this was from the conversation she had with Lucien a few days ago. He had been amused by the fact that Graysen, for all the designer suits he wore, was unable to make his own tie.

“Sweetie, I’m not allowed to bring someone else with me.” She tried to reason.

“That's not true!” Daemon exclaimed. “Jason said that his dad was taking him. And he even gets to wear a suit!” He crossed his arms and pouted. “He can’t even make his own tie! I can! I’m a grown up and I can go!”

Elain tried to hide her smile at his outburst. “Well, if you’re a grown up now, I think you can sleep with all the night lights off tonight, m’kay?”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t lose his stance. “I’m sure if my dad was here then he would’ve taken me.”

Elain instantly frowned at his words. She had tried to disguise the absence of a father from his life as much as she could and had not noticed him being affected by it.

“Fine,” She accepted reluctantly, “I’ll talk to Graysen about it. If he says it’s okay, I’ll take you.”

“And a suit?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I’ll get you that suit as well.” Elain smiled and ruffled his hair. Daemon grabbed her hand and dragged her to his room.

He lay down on his bed and shifted, making space for Elain. She lay on her side and looked at him, his hazel eyes closed. Elain took a moment to take in all the features he shared with the one person she never wanted to see again. Fate was cruel, wasn’t it?

“Mommy?” He whispered with his eyes closed.

“Hmm?”

“Please don’t turn the night lights off.”

~~~~~

The room was dark and damp, the only light source a small bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was quiet except for the whimpering sounds coming from the man tied to the chair in the middle of the room.

“I swear I don’t know where he is.” The man panted. “Let me go!” He banged his hands which were cuffed to the table.

From the corner of the room, a man emerged from the darkness, a bloodied knife held in his hand. His hazel eyes glowing in the light as he moved towards the man. He turned the chair in front of him and straddled it, placing the knife on the table. He spun the knife while taking his phone out. The tied up man looked at the knife in front of him. The man slammed his hand on the knife, causing it to stop and showed the tied man his phone.

The tied man’s eyes widened as he saw the image on the phone.

“This is your daughter, isn’t it? Along with your wife?” His voice was stone cold as he stared at the tied man in front of him. “Does your wife know you have a mistress?” He swiped the screen to show another woman.

The man shook his head. “You won’t do anything. You think I haven’t heard of you?” The man leaned forward in a challenge. “Word on the street is that Rhysand doesn’t hurt women and kids. Your threat card won’t work on me. You can’t scare me one bit.”

Azriel smirked darkly. “Well, good thing I’m not Rhysand, am I?” In a flash, he picked his knife and slammed it in the man’s hand, the man screaming in pain.

~~~~~

“Rise and shine, butterflies!” A loud, obnoxious voice exclaimed, causing Elain to wake up. She groaned and covered her face with a pillow. Beside her, Daemon was already wide awake.

Two pairs of hands, one little and one large, shook her shoulders, further irritating her. “Up Up Up Up”

“Nonono No.” She replied, rolling over to burrow her face into her pillows.

“Dae, please go and get a glass of ice cold water.” The male voice said, which was followed by sounds of footsteps running out of the room. Elain’s bed dipped beside her and she opened one eye to glare at the man who was grinning at her with no guilt.

“I fucking hate you.” She flatly said.

“Trust me, I know.” Lucien continued to smile at her, offering her a hand. Elain groan and took it, sitting herself up and rubbing her eyes with her palm.

Lucien reached behind him to produce a black mug, steaming and the smell of coffee coming out of it. Elain grasped it and inhaled it down.

“What are you even doing here? I didn’t give you a key to come and ruin my sleep whenever you want.”

“I am here to drop Daemon off to school and ensure that you reach the hospital within an hour.” He took his phone out and started swiping through it.

Daemon entered the room with a glass of ice. He was all dressed up in his uniform and ready for school.

Elain groaned again at just how late she was.

“Momma, you’re up!” He exclaimed and hugged her tightly. “Good morning!”

Elain mumbled a reply. Lucien raised his brows at her and after a pause told Daemon to go outside and wait in the car. “You okay?” He asked when Daemon was out of hearing range.

Elain nodded. “It’s just, last night, Dae mentioned something about how he would be allowed to go to the ball if his dad was here.”

Lucien’s eyes widened. “And what did you say?”

“Nothing.” Elain put her coffee mug on the side table. “I just said that I’ll ask Graysen about the ball. I can’t exactly tell him that his father doesn’t even know he exists.”

“But one day, you’ll have to tell him. No matter how much love and affection you give him, he’ll always feel a void which only a father can fill.” Lucien said wistfully.

“He’ll have Graysen.” Elain said harshly.

Lucien gave her a look. “You know he and Graysen would never be able to have that bond. Graysen wants power and a trophy wife, not an added responsibility.”

Elain cocked her head at his words and nudged him. “You’ve been there for him. You could be his father figure.”

Lucien raised both his hands and shook his head. “Nope. Not at all. I’m the fun and wild uncle type, not the strict daddy type.”

“That’s not what she said.” Elain smiled innocently as Lucien gave her a sour look.

“Elain Archeron, that was a complete mom joke, do you know that?” Lucien said in disgust.

“But I am a mom.” Elain laughed and Lucien got off the bed, groaning at her words and moved towards the door. As soon as he reached the threshold, he turned back to look at her.

He pinned her with a serious look “He deserves to know the truth.”

Elain sat on her bed for a while looking at the spot Lucien had been. The way Lucien had said the words made her think he didn’t mean Daemon.

Elain allowed herself to think about the man she desperately wanted to forget. The man who haunted her dreams and broke her heart when she was 18. The man she didn’t want in her son’s life.

Azriel Knight did not know about the existence of his son and Elain intended to keep it that way.

~~~~~

The Sun had risen by the time Azriel stepped out of the dungeon. He had spent the entire night torturing information out of Albert, Alfred something. He didn’t really care what the man’s name was. Just another to add on the long list of victims by his hand.

He went to the bathroom to clean his hands when his adoptive brother, Cassian joined him. “So, Algert finally spoke, huh?”

Azriel inwardly cringed at the name. Who the fuck names their child Algert?

“Freaked the fuck out once he realized I wasn’t Rhysand.” Azriel scrubbed the blood caked beneath his nails. Cassian observed him for a while before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“Are you really gonna make me ask?” He whined.

Azriel hid a smile at the predictability of his brother. “He said there was somewhat of a real estate war amongst the higher ups and that’s where he last saw him.”

“Amongst the higher ups?” Cassian questioned. “So that means it’s in Rhysand’s area now?”

Azriel walked out of the bathroom, Cassian following him. “No. He’s a rat. If Rhysand wants to maintain his status, he can’t be seen around someone like him. We need to get involved.”

Cassian stopped walking, causing Azriel to pause and look back at him. “Keir is probably working for one of them.”

Azriel considered this. “Good thing I didn’t kill poor little Algert. Would’ve been a waste of an opportunity.”

Azriel marched into the dungeon, the door slamming into the wall. The man, Algert, shot up straight and instantly cowered in fear as he saw who was there.

“Who is Kier working for?” Azriel asked, moving towards Algert.

Algert shook his head. “I don’t know.” Azriel nodded in understanding, before grabbing his hair and slamming his head onto the table.

He held the man’s head upwards. “Tell me or else I’ll make the previous sessions feel like child’s play.”

Algert raised his cuffed hands as much as he could and Cassian winced at the sight of only three fingers remaining on each hand.

“I don’t know his name.” He spoke through the blood coming from his nose. “But he’s going to be at Nolan’s ball. Has a fiance and a kid.”

Azriel leaned close. “You know about the woman he fucks but not his name?”

The man coughed out a laugh. “Can’t forget that woman. A beauty with those brown eyes of hers.”

At the mention of brown eyes, Azriel instantly looked away. The one person that came to his mind with brown eyes was the last thing that should’ve been on his mind when he was sitting in a torture chamber, torturing a man for information. He was grateful that she was far away from this kind of world. His world.

“Listen,” Cassian interjected. “If you give us something worthwhile to work on, I can convince this dude right here,” - Cassian pointed towards Azriel - “to let you go without hurting you. And I’m telling you, once I saw him get so pissed off by some guy and he used his blade and slit him open from one end to the other.” Azriel raised a brow at the exaggeration, but didn’t say anything.

Cassian leaned towards the man and whispered, “It’s always the quiet ones, am I right?”

Azriel had had enough. He let go of the man’s head, letting it drop onto the table with a thud. “I’m out of here.” Azriel told Cassian, walking out of the room.

Azriel stood outside playing with his lighter when Cassian came out of the room a few minutes later, with a triumphant smile.

Azriel gave him a blank look. “It’s always the quiet ones?”

Cassian shrugged. “What? I need to do something to make you more intimidating. And I don’t see you spouting poetry.” He accused.

Azriel smirked as he replied. “I don’t need to resort to it.”

Cassian shook his head. “Spoke like a sparrow once you walked out.”

“That’s not the expression.”

He pouted his lips. “No, I’m pretty sure it is.”

Azriel let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m gonna clear my head. You go brief Rhys.” Azriel left, his head aching after yet another sleepless night.

~~~~~

“Just let him come this once, I promise, I won’t let him out of my sight.” Elain pleaded. She was seated in a nice cafe with her fiance Graysen sitting in front of her, going through his phone.

Graysen and Elain met when Elain had just started her residency and was working in the ER. On the outside he seemed to be the perfect male specimen, exactly opposite of the kind she was used to. One date turned into ten and a year later, Graysen asked her to marry him. Elain had said yes and they had been engaged since then, waiting for Elain’s residency to get over before marrying.

Graysen sighed as he ran his free hand through his hair. “You know I would love to have him there. But I haven’t told people yet that you have a kid, and I don’t want it to cause any scenes at my father’s ball.”

Elain shook her head. “It won’t cause a problem. I swear.”

Graysen reached across the table to hold Elain’s hand. “Sweetheart, you don’t know those people like I do.” He rubbed his thumb on her skin. “They’re like vultures. And Daemon is too innocent to go through that kind of mess.”

“What if he spends the whole time with Lucien?” Elain tried again.

Graysen considered this. “It might work. No one would care if the Vanserra clan had another offspring roaming around.”

Elain furrowed her brows at the obvious snide comment at her best friend’s family. Graysen noticed this and smiled at her. “I’m not insulting them. Just stating a fact.”

He looked at his watch and stood up holding a hand for Elain. “Come on, lunchtime is over and you need to be back at the hospital.” He walked her outside and they got into Graysen’s car. Before Elain sat, she heard a camera snapping. She turned towards the sound but didn’t see anything.

She shook her head as if clearing it and sat in the car. The journey to the hospital was a quiet one with Graysen scrolling through his phone and Elain looking out the window.

As Elain was getting out of the car, Graysen grabbed her hand. “Be careful honey.” He said softly. “There might be a few enemies of mine who would do anything to get to me. Including hurting you.” He looked into her eyes.

“Are you saying that I’m in danger?” Elain asked in shock.

Graysen gave her a reassuring smile that did little for her. “Naah, but it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more careful. Future CEO’s fiancee acts as a great bargaining chip.”

Elain’s hand was finally released and she moved out, walking towards the hospital she worked at. She was bombarded with patient files as soon as she entered her station and all thoughts of her life being in danger went out of her mind.

~~~~~

Azriel parked his car in front of the old mansion. It had been his home before he had moved out at 18. His adoptive father and both brothers still resided there and as far as the world was concerned, it was still the headquarters of the Knight gang.

It was also the place where Azriel had the most memories with Elain. He never told anyone but the house haunted him with every single moment he spent with Elain. He had asked Elain to marry him in that house. After Elain left, he couldn’t bear to spend another second in that house. So, he moved out, much to the dismay of his family.

He knew any regular man would think it pathetic to be stuck up on one girl, but it didn’t matter to him. He would’ve given up everything for Elain. He knew that if she were to come up to him at the moment, he would sacrifice himself for her.

He found himself grateful that neither of her sisters resembled Elain, in looks or personality, not always reminding him of what he lost. He envied both his brothers for being lucky enough to be with the woman they loved.

Azriel was still lost in thought when he heard a car honking behind him.

He turned around to see Cassian sticking his head out of his car as he parked. “Hey Batman!” He called out. “We still have tons of work to do! So, if you’re done sulking, can we start working?”

Azriel shook his head in exasperation and walked inside the mansion, going directly towards Rhys’ office. Cassian followed in behind him.

Rhysand sat on his chair behind his massive desk in his formal work clothes, talking to someone on the phone.

“Feyre darling, call me after you’re done with your work. I have to go now.” He said as he saw both his brother’s entering his office.

He looked at Azriel for a moment before speaking, “You look well rested.”

Azriel shrugged in response. “Figured I’ll get in as much rest as I could, considering the next few weeks are gonna take the shit out of us.”

Rhys tapped his fingers on his desk. “That’s true. Cassian told me what you got out of that man. One of the men matched his descriptions. Turned out to be Graysen, Nolan’s son.” Rhys picked up a file on his desk and opened it. “Don’t know much about the fiancee. Never met her before but all I’ve heard is that she’s not only beautiful but also very smart. And the kid’s not his.”

“We’re gonna kidnap the girl aren’t we?” Azriel asked, taking a seat in front of Rhys, Cassian still lingered near the closed door.

Rhys nodded. “Taking her from under his nose would be a massive slap to his ego. Nolan’s ball is tomorrow, I’ll manage to get a few extra invites.”

Azriel cocked his head. “We don’t know anything about the girl?”

Cassian answered from behind. “Never needed the info. Nolan played it safe, and even then, she’s not from their circles. Not much info there at all.”

“I have Feyre working on it. I’ll send it to you as soon as I get something helpful.” Rhys informed them.

Cassian grinned. “Does Feyre like it when you order her around like this?”

Rhys raised a brow. “Yes, and she listens, just like you will when I tell you to get out and figure out how to get your work done.”

Azriel got up and left the room as Cassian groaned, “We’ve been leveled down to kidnapping, Az. We have no importance now.”

~~~~~

Elain had spent two hours in the mall looking for a suit for her son when she finally took a break. She had gone directly after her shift got over and was starving.

Elain was about to go get dinner in one of her favored restaurants when she noticed someone familiar standing nearby.

She got closer and realized that she was correct and her sister Feyre was standing in front of her with a camera in her hand. Feyre had also noticed Elain at that moment and looked at her with wide eyes, almost about to run.

“Feyre!” Elain called out and ran towards her, engulfing her in a hug. “It’s been so long, what are you doing here?”

Feyre snapped out of her shock and shrugged. “Just getting some inspiration for my art.” She held up her camera.

“Ooh that’s cool, will you show me?” Elain was about to reach for the camera when Feyre pulled it back quickly.

“No!” She shouted, then took a breath before continuing. “It’s kind of personal. No offense.” Elain dropped her shoulders and smiled back.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to be grabby.” She gestured towards the restaurant. “I’m starving. Would you like to join me?”

Feyre contemplated before nodding in assertion. Both sisters were directed to an empty table inside and both ordered food. Both sat in silence until their food arrived.

“So what have you been up to?” Elain asked, wanting to get rid of the awkwardness.

Feyre smiled enthusiastically. “Well I went to Velaris U and majored in Art History. After that I got my PHD and now I work as an art curator in a museum.”

Elain smiled at her younger sister. “What about your love life? Still with Rhysand?”

Feyre slightly blushed. “Um yes. He proposed in our third year and we both got married as soon as we graduated.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful!” Elain was happy but a small part inside of her was hurt that she didn’t get to attend her sister’s wedding.

Feyre noticed this and tried to change the topic. “What about you? Completely cut us off when you left.”

Elain shook her head. “That wasn’t on purpose. I was just really busy and had my hands tied up with everything. Completed my bachelors and MD in combined 7 years from Adriata and came back to Velaris for my residency. It’s my third year of residency for Union Hospital’s neurosurgery program.”

Feyre looked at Elain with wide eyes, before turning her expression into a sly smirk. “So what you’re saying is that Nesta is the only one of us who doesn’t have Dr. in front of her name?”

Elain’s eyes widened at the realization and both sisters broke out in laughter. “She’d probably enroll herself just to prove us wrong.”

Just then Feyre’s phone rang and her smile faded. “Um, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. I have a deadline for my project.”

Elain nodded in understanding and knew that she should quickly get something for Daemon and return home as well.

They both left the restaurant and Feyre hugged Elain tightly. “I really missed you.” Elain returned the sentiment. “Please don’t hate us.” Feyre added softly, not meant for Elain’s ears but she heard anyway.

~~~~~

Azriel was sitting in his office when Cassian walked in with a shopping bag.

He dropped the bag in front of Azriel. “There’s your suit for tomorrow. You’re welcome.”

Azriel didn’t glance at the articles of clothing. “Feyre’s the one that probably bought it. I’m not thanking you for anything.”

Cassian leaned his hip on the desk. “As Rhysand’s ‘COO’ you get an invite to the ball. And your plus one is oh so wonderful me.” He dropped the envelope in Azriel’s lap.

Cassian’s voice took a serious tone. “Rhys gave me all the info on the girl. So, how the hell are we gonna get her?” Azriel shrugged.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Cassian asked in frustration.

“We’ll lure her out and grab her.” Azriel simply answered.

“And how will we be doing that?” He urged.

Azriel snarkily answered “Using your dashing charm.”

Cassian raised a brow before mumbling, “Trust me, my charm would do nothing on her.”

Rhys walked into the room without knocking, Azriel’s secretary scrambling in behind him. “I’m sorry sir, I told him you were already in a meeting.”

Azriel waved her off as he saw the grim look on his face.

“The kid is gonna be there as well and he’s nine years old.” He stated calmly.

Cassian cursed and Azriel was confused by his reaction. “So we take them both?”

Rhys nodded slowly. “Just don’t hurt them.”

Cassian grinned at Azriel. “I don’t think they're the ones that are gonna be hurt.”

Azriel didn’t have the energy to read into Cassian’s words. He just told his brother’s to leave him alone and continued to work, dreading the wretched ball he had to attend.

~~~~~~~

That was chapter 1! Let me know what you think!

Next Chapter - 4th November

#elriel #elriel fic #one last time #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #gangster au #acotar au #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #feyre archeron #rhysand #nesta archeron #cassian

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