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luveline · 3 years

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you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #fred weasly x reader #sad reader #reader insert #artist reader #fred weasley fluff #sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit #why woukd they do that

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warmau · 3 years

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a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"

#i know this is read from jisung's perspective in the beginning but i didn't know how else to get across the like cursing thing #if i wasnt writing from his kind of vision but like the turning point shifts to the reader #anyway none of you give a fuck so ill stop talking #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream #sfw #cursing/#nostalgia

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r0zyp0zy0zy · 3 years

Text

✾❃S.H+D.K- A Bisexual Mess✶

Make a request!

Master list

Warnings: Smut, threesome, spit roasting, suggested poly relationship

Words: 3407

Pairing(s): Kaminari Denki x Sero Hanta x FEM!reader

Summary: Being attracted to your friend is weird, and your boyfriend having a crush on him too is even weirder.

Ok so I might’ve gotten carried away and prepared a basket instead... oops. Enjoy!

Part two

===NSFW UNDER THE CUT===

Sero Hanta always bragged about you to his friends, which wasn't a secret by any means. Well, not a secret to anybody except you. What can he say? You're perfect to him, and who's he to keep that information to himself? He would spew everything he loved about you and more, infuriating Bakugo and making Kaminari jealous.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, really! Well, not at first. Buuut... your pretty little boyfriend mentioned your name in his conversation with the Bakusquad, and you couldn't help it. You stood quietly outside of your home office— the only place in the house you allowed Hanta to smoke —and leaned as close to the door as you dared.

"She's just so perfect," you broke into a smile at Sero's words.

"Will you stop bragging about y/n-chan?" Kaminari groaned dramatically from within the room, "I almost can't take it anymore! You know that I like her. Stop making me jealous on purpose because I can't have her!"

Your eyes widened slightly at Kaminari's words. He did? Since when? Well, that was a silly thing to think; Kami has probably had a crush on everyone in high school at one point or another. But the fact that he just admitted it to Hanta was straight-up bold.

"Yeah I know," you heard Sero smirk, "ever since you've heard about her magic mouth you've wanted a piece."

"-wha? Wrong. I've had a crush on her longer than that!" Kaminari argued. You could hear Mina in the back cracking up.

"Will you two shut up?!" Bakugo yelled, rattling the door. "Every fucking time I'm here is all 'y/n this' and 'y/n that' ok we gET IT, THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH HER!"

You stood in their silence for a moment, trying to process that holy shit, the Mega-Virgin Kaminari has a crush on you, even before you sucked Hanta off for the first time! What was happening?

"K'mon, bro," Kirishima chided, and you heard the slap of his hand land on Bakugo's back. "Chill out, take another hit. Y/n-san might pop in if she hears too much noise."

"Whatever, 'tch," Bakugo huffed, "kinda wanna go home anyway, you nerds don't have anything interesting to talk about."

You quietly hurried away to your shared bedroom at the sound of footsteps, pretending that you hadn't just heard Hanta openly talk about your 'magic mouth', and Kaminari's confession. You could still feel the flustered blush on your cheeks as Kirishima and Bakugo walked down the hall to the front door, the latter grumbling about "those damn nerds".

"Wait, guys," Mina called to them, "I don't want to be stuck with those love-sick idiots!"

After Kiri offered to buy the pink girl an Uber home and the front door was shut, all you could hear was the muffled conversation a room over. You snuck back to the office door, and pressed your ear against it.

"-s-stop!" You heard Kaminari stutter.

"Never! It's so fun to make you flustered over my girl," you playfully shook your head at Hanta's words. Typical Sero move.

It was silent for a few minutes, broken soon after with a, "dude! What the hell?" From Hanta.

"I- it's- it's your fault!" Kaminari retorted, apparently spinning around in the squeaky office chair.

"You-," Sero burst out laughing, "you got hard just from me talking about her! Bet it was the part I told you when y/n and I were at that one restaurant-."

"S-shut up!" Kaminari squeaked.

Your face flushed considerably pinker. Right here, right now, were two boys that were sexually attracted to you on the other side of the door. You felt your stomach flip and twist in excitement at the new feeling.

"It's kinda cute that you're so into her," you heard Hanta tease. "You're always a blushing mess, and just stuttering over your words."

"Damn S-sero," Denki said grouchily, "stop making fun of me."

You couldn't help but press your ear completely against the door, the two boys inside were too high to notice the shadow under the door anyway. Was Hanta... Flirting?

"I'm not making fun of you," Sero paused. "I'm just calling you cute."

You drowned out the rest of their conversation with your thoughts, trying to connect dots together. Hanta was a little suspicious at times from what you could see over his shoulder. Suspicious of what, exactly? Being gay, or at least bisexual. You saw him close tabs of soft-core gay porn occasionally, and you even accidentally stumbled upon Sero's old diary from years back. You didn't worry too much about it, but now... was he suppressing his feelings? Was he about to cheat on you?

Your heart dropped at that thought. Hanta was a nice guy and he wouldn't do that to you, right? He wouldn't lie about loving you. Not after what you heard earlier. Or was that just to fluster Kaminari? You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind, and tuned back in on the two boys.

"-AH—! Wait!" You heard Sero panic, "I didn't- I shouldn't've-!"

".. shouldn't have kissed me?" Denki squeaked quietly so you had to strain to hear.

What on Earth did you miss while you were spaced out?

"Well- I was just thinking about h-how cute you are, and I forgot that I can't kiss someone who isn't my partner!" Hanta stressed, "god why do I have to love both of you..."

Your eyebrows raised at that, and listened in a little harder. Did you hear that right? Sero had a crush on Kaminari?

Honestly you couldn't blame him when the blond was so undeniably attractive, especially with the smudged black eyeliner on the corners of his eyes and the lightning bolt streak in his hair. You wouldn't lie that you liked him a bit too, but you suppressed those feelings for Hanta.

"I- I can go if you want," Kaminari mumbled, voice cracking slightly.

"Er- if you want. I don't mind chilling with you a bit longer. Just— don't tell y/n what happened. I- I'll tell her later when I figure out what to say," Hanta said.

"You sure she won't get mad at you?" Said a concerned Denki. "I know how much you love her, and I don't want you two to break it off.."

"Weeelll," Sero dragged on nervously, "y/n is very understanding, a-and I also need to tell her a few other things anyway."

You headed towards the living room, hearing all you needed to. You honestly didn't exactly know what to think about what just happened. Hanta kissed Denki, who likes you, and you that likes Hanta who also likes Denki. What even.

You sat comfortably on the couch, watching the last of the sun meander under the horizon. You nervously tapped on your phone after playing games on it for about an hour, waiting for Kaminari to leave so you could talk with Hanta. You finally heard the office door open, and you turned your head. Sero shuffled towards you with a sleeping Denki in his arms. The blonde's mouth was wide open and snoring lightly, drool going halfway down his chin.

"Uh," Hanta said awkwardly, "help."

You giggled and jumped up from your to help your boyfriend position Kaminari on the couch, who immediately latched onto a pillow mumbling incoherently.

"Whatta dude," you stated, fists on your hips.

"Yeah..." Hanta scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, I have to talk to you about something. It's pretty serious so we can wait until later if you want."

"Nah," you shook your head, "you've seemed off lately, and I'm guessing you just need it off your chest."

"Well, if you don't mind," Hanta plopped down on the love seat. You kneeled over to lean your head on his knee as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I- Um. I- I think I'm Bi."

You nodded your head understandingly, taking his hand in yours. "Ok, baby. Thank you for telling me."

"—there is o-one more thing I-I have to confess," Sero shook, "just please don't hit or yell at me."

"I would never, baby. I'm here for you," you looked up at him encouragingly, giving him a smile.

"O-ok. Uh, I kinda, well... I kinda kissed Kami. O-on the lips," Hanta's eyes looked away from yours, floating to the floor.

"Do you regret it?" You asked, keeping a calm exterior.

"Uh- I dunno. I do because I'm with you.. but... I- I think I don't," Sero looked incredibly guilty, and he squeezed your hand, "I love you, b-but I also have a crush on him..."

"That's ok," you reassured, reaching up to turn his head back to you, "I don't mind if you want to be in a relationship with him too, separately or not."

Hanta looked incredibly surprised, and a smile split his face, "really?!"

"Yes really," you giggled, kissing his cheek. "I can share you."

Sero, being the genius he was, suggested introducing Denki into the relationship with a threesome. Totally not skipping a few steps or anything.

"Are you sure he'd be willing to do that?" You had asked. "He's a virgin to basically everything."

"Oh, he'd be willing alright," Hanta smirked. "I'll message him about it then?"

"Mhm," you nodded, "it'll be fun. We'll get to tease him."

Denki was freaking out. Actually, he was more than freaking out. He was freaking out and jerking off. Multitasking. He could not believe his eyes when he opened Sero's text message, four glorious words: 'wanna have a threesome?'

Of course, Denki had asked if his friend had been joking or not before opening up his mind to fantasies. He got off rather quickly, though who could blame him. He swore that his libido was abnormally high, because even the thought of you, (and Sero as well), would get him flustered and he would pop a boner.

The next day when he came over, his teeth brushed and pubes trimmed, he stood outside your apartment door for at least a minute before knocking. His mind would keep circling the same thoughts: 'Sero just wants you to embarrass yourself in front of her', 'he told y/n about your crush and now they want to laugh at you', 'holy fuck is this actually happening', and 'I hope Sero actually doesn't mind sharing'.

"Sup, man," Hanta grinned as he opened the door for his blushing crush, a far too casual greeting for the situation about to unfold.

"H-hey," Kaminari grinned back, shuffling inside and slipping off his shoes.

"Y/n's just making up a snack so we can chat before uh, y'know," Hanta held back his blush, already nervous because damn, did Denki put on eyeliner or something? He looked hotter than usual.

"Take a seat in the living room, I'm almost done!" You called from the kitchen as you poured one last cup of tea. You carried the tray of tea and homemade cookies to the coffee table, and sat yourself down on the love seat. You couldn't lie— you were nervous as shit at the moment. You looked up as Hanta led a very flustered and anxious Kaminari behind him, and you gave a comforting wave.

"H-hi," Kaminari squeaked, sitting himself on the couch in front of you. He rubbed the sweat off his hands on his pants, trying to avoid your gaze.

"Hey!" You greeted kindly with a smile.

"Alright so now what," Hanta stated, plopping himself beside Denki only looking slightly nervous.

"We discuss boundaries!" You said cheerfully. You reached over for your cup and took a sip. "Any hard no's?"

"Kaminari's not fucking you," Hanta crossed his arms. "Not yet, I want it to be more special than this..."

Denki choked on his drink, sputtering on his tea.

"Kami, any hard no's?" you steered.

"U-uh not right now," the electric blond stuttered, eyeing Sero nervously.

"Ok great!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together, "the safe word Hanta and I use is 'soy sauce'."

"That's two-."

"Yeah same difference," you waved Kaminari off. "Anyway, my hard no's are just don't hit me, don't degrade me, and don't choke me out."

The two boys nodded anxiously.

"Holy fuck," Denki muttered as he watched Sero kiss your lips, palming his dick through his jeans. He admired your half undressed state as he feverishly threw off his T-shirt.

Without looking, Hanta held out his hand in a 'come hither' motion, and Kaminari steered over to his friend. Sero pulled away from you for a moment, guiding Denki's shaky hands to your bare waist. Once the two of you continued kissing, Kaminari hugged your waist closer and kissed the side of your neck. Your encouraging moans excited him, and he kissed your skin harder.

Denki's hips couldn't help but rut against your backside, drawing out a soft groan from him. He peered his head up to Sero, who turned to give him a gentle kiss, and Kaminari could feel your saliva on his lips. You turned to face the blonde, leaning forwards to propose a kiss. Denki filled the gap quickly, and met your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but neither you nor Kami cared. You heard Hanta grumble in your ear, nipping at the cartilage carefully.

Honestly, Denki thought he was being spoiled rotten. You were so soft in his arms, and he swore he could stay like this forever. Sero's nimble fingers snuck to the back of your bra and quickly unclasped it, making Denki suck in a jittery breath.

"Hmmh," you sighed as Hanta cupped your breasts gently, waiting for Denki to desperately ask for a turn.

"You can touch her, Denks," Sero chuckled, leaning over and kissing his friend again.

Denki mumbled into the kiss, and shakily moved to grasp your tits from behind. His cock couldn't help but twitch in his pants as he massaged your nipples softly, his lips still locked with Hanta's. Kami pulled back with a gasp, strings of saliva still attaching them.

"Oh so good," Denki whined as he humped your ass, breathing heavily into your ear.

"Mmm, Denki~ take your pants off for us, won't you?" You licked your lips and watched as Kaminari hobbled out of his skinny jeans.

He looked at you with wide eyes as you sat on your bed, with Sero following suit. Denki moaned when the two of you started making out again, and nervously edged closer to the bed. You smiled at him encouragingly and reached out a hand to play with the elastic of his boxers. A whimper left his throat as you trailed a finger up his clothed shaft, and he eyed Hanta guilty.

"It's ok!" The smiling man replied, helping you get into a better position. "Let loose a little, dude."

Denki wasn't sure he could do that since you were slowly pulling down the hem of his underwear, his cock springing up to slap his stomach before standing straight out. He slipped down his boxers and kicked them away, having full attention on you and your beautiful e/c eyes.

Hanta was massaging your ass cheeks as Denki experienced your mouth for the first time, and he pulled down your panties, (which were soaked, by the way). You moaned against Kami's cock as Sero rubbed the inside of your thighs with his warm hands, causing Denki to let out a lewd groan. His eyes kept switching from you, to Sero, and back to you again.

"So wet for me, y/n," Hanta mumbled, "if I knew you were into this stuff I would've invited Kami over earlier."

You hummed in response, too busy indulging yourself with Denki's dick. You enjoyed making him squirm in his stance, licking over the glans of his cock and the underside of his shaft. You swore you could see his eyes start to water up.

Kaminari was wide eyed as he watched Hanta strip out of his briefs and give himself a few pumps. Denki's mouth opened in a silent moan when Sero lined up to your entrance and slowly inched inside, letting out a low groan when he bottomed out. You hummed diligently on the cock you were sucking and grabbed Denki's hand to put on your head, letting him grasp your hair like reins.

The electric blond babbled quietly as he watched Hanta pump into you, forcing Denki's cock further down your throat. The way your mouth contracted around him made Denki's legs shake, and he got red in the face trying to keep his hands from urging your head deeper.

"You look like you're having a good time, Denks," Sero commented as he admired the blonde's teary eyes. His hips rolled forwards in a new rhythm and you griped pleasantly as you fisted the sheets under you.

"Fuuuck yeah," Kaminari grumbled, catching up with his friend's rhythm. He was over the moon, and was just trying not to cum prematurely so he could enjoy this moment longer.

"Don't be afraid to fuck her face," Hanta said smugly, repositioning his hands on your hips. "She loves choking on cock, ain't that right beautiful?"

You wept in agreement, looking up at Denki with soft, pleading eyes. You bobbed your head faster in his loose grasp, gagging and sputtering on spit and precum. The man above you groaned with satisfaction and fisted your hair and forced his dick deeper into your tight throat. His thrusts came in a perfect rhythm with Sero's, and whenever you moved, you were getting impaled from either end.

Your limbs shook as you struggled to breathe with the cock in your mouth, and your pussy clenched around Hanta desperately. You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you sobbed for breath, enjoying every moment. You nearly squealed as Sero pressed a vibrator against your clit, and your vision fuzzed a bright white.

"Gonna cum, baby?" Hanta egged on, panting for oxygen. "C'mere Den, kiss me."

You whined loudly as you heard the two men kissing above you, and your stomach tightened and rolled around pleasantly. You gurgled on Denki's cock as you came, pussy pulsing with need and delight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Kaminari moaned in tune with his thrusts, so close to the edge that you could practically taste his cum already.

"Oh shit, y/n. You're so— tigHT," Hanta groaned as he rutted against you one more time before you felt his warm cum fill your insides.

Right on cue, Denki hit his peak right after Sero, moaning about how good your mouth felt and how hot you were, "god, Hanta, she looks so fucking good like this."

Denki let out a choked whine as he finally let his orgasm take over his body, and he held your head in place as his semen ran down your throat. You choked it down before Kami pulled away, and you opened your mouth to reveal strings of saliva and cum.

"Holy fucking shit," Denki said, exasperated, "I feel like I'm not gonna go soft for a week."

"You alright, my love?" Hanta said softly as he let you fall onto your chest, ass still up.

"Hell yeah," you mumbled, your voice scratchy and sore from being face-fucked. You watched Kami stand awkwardly as Sero wiped you down with a warm cloth, taking care between your thighs.

"Denki, go get some water please," Hanta instructed as he rolled you over. "You did so good, baby. The best."

You hummed softly in response, already feeling your eyes flutter sleepily. Kaminari held out a straw to you, and you sucked down the cool substance thankfully.

"That was the best blowjob ever," Denki sighed happily, watching Hanta scoop out the cum from your cunt.

"It was your only blowjob, Kami," you mumbled teasingly, a soft smirk on your face.

You felt yourself drift into a calm state, and you could only hear the muffled voices of your boyfriend, and... your other boyfriend? You fell into a comforting, dreamless sleep, and you knew that Denki would make a great addition to your relationship.

#Kaminari Denki #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari #denki kaminari smut #denki kaminari x sero hanta #denki kaminari x reader x sero hanta #Sero Hanta #sero hanta x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #mha #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #anime

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simsadventures · 3 years

Text

Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

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“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve.

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing.

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now.

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare.

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness.

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain.

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option.

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started.

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it.

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back.

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain.

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you.

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty.

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved.

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened.

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number.

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her.

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line.

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror.

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.”

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side.

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could.

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow.

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture.

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether.

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details.

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four.

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth.

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now.

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself.

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades.

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you.

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it.

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago.

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted.

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark.

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was.

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process.

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess.

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision.

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?”

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil.

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look.

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position.

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance.

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers.

/ Next Chapter >

Tags will be in reblogs xx

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

Headcanons for being Diana’s child

Diana Prince x child!reader

warnings: ww84 spoilers ahead!

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Lacey! I see you're taking request for ww84, would you write HC for being Diana's child? I'm not sure you're up to HC though. Hope you have an amazing year ;)”

growing up with so many stories of your mother’s home

that and stories passed down from your grandmother

“and asteria held back mankind in order for the amazons to survive. our people shall never forget her sacrifice” -diana

“tell me another!” -you

“i can’t tell you all my stories! then what would i have left to say?” -diana, giggling as she tucked you in and gave u a kiss on the forehead :)

you had to keep her secret growing up

😔sadly you couldn’t tell everyone you had the world’s coolest mom

buuuut a mom who works at the smithsonian isn’t NOT cool

👉👈exclusive field trips at school

“y/n, can you ask your mom if i can touch that?” -classmate, pointing to a display

“i already know the answer and it’s ‘no’” -you

actually knowing a decent bit about the stuff there

and the people too!!!

“if it isn’t our archaeologist in training, how’s school going?” -mom’s coworker

“pretty well! how has it been here?” -you

“busy busy busy” -coworker

diana teaching you ✨self defense✨

you were half amazon, but you shared many of her traits

that included her speed and strength

*ahem* and badassery

“okay, y/n. you are much stronger than your friends, but they cannot know that. you must be careful not to hurt anyone by mistake or show them how powerful you are” -diana

“so i can’t give my friends piggy back rides?” -you

“i would advise against it, just in case” -diana, chuckling

on your first try against a punching bag

you uh. destroyed the punching bag

“uh...we’ll work on that, yeah?” -diana

“i can’t lie, mother, that was pretty cool” -you

she opened up about steve to you and only you

“he gave me this watch right before he...he saved the world. i wish you could have met him” -diana

“he sounded brave. and really sweet. i mean, at least you got to know him” -you

“that’s true, my love. i am very lucky to have known him for what little time i had, i will cherish it forever” -diana

you were very wise at times. and she enjoyed learning what it was like for her mother to raise her

and although she felt guilty making you hide your true self from the world, you understood that it was necessary

you were not able to grow up as free as she did, but you assured her that it was not a bother at all

you guys totally go on “lunch dates” on saturdays because life does get busy for the both of you and you guys make time to catch up

you tease her when there’s sightings of a woman saving the day

“busy day of work, mother?” -you

“what can i say? i can’t keep myself away from the action” -diana

“when will you let me get a piece of the action?” -you

“your time will come, y/n” -diana

dont let me forget that your mom is super affectionate!!!! (as long as you’re comfortable with it ofc)

kisses and hugs and little notes and alway fixing your hair and cupping ur face just cuz she wants to see her baby!!!!!

oh also!! you can go out whenever you want really because she trusts you to come home on time and knows you can hold your own

“going to see star wars with some friends, mom!! see you in a few hours!” -you

“no problem, do you need money for your ticket or snacks?” -diana

“all taken care of! love you!” -you

“i love you too” -diana

and then stuff got really weird!!! weirder***

starting with the gala that your mom had to go to, you got the house to yourself

it wasn’t all that spectacular really but that’s what happened

meanwhile......

*after meeting steve again* “oh, gosh! i have to call my child and let them know that i’m not coming home tonight!” -diana

“w-what? you have a kid?!” -steve

ngl your mom did not want you to have ANY part of the dreamstone stuff

but she also did not want to leave you alone so ye you had to go to cairo with her and steve but you were really happy to meet steve

“your mom told me that you like history” -steve

“some of it. i do like her history though, i can only hope to see where she comes from one day” -you

“well, i accidentally crashed into themyscira, maybe you will, too” -steve

“wait...you found themyscira on accident??” -steve

“don’t get any ideas, y/n” -diana

“but now we have an invisible jet! it’s like this was meant to be!” -you

once your mother started losing her powers, it was your duty to step up to the plate

and you did a pretty good job for your first time hero-ing

“they remind me so much of you. that’s a good thing” -steve

“the world is not ready for them” -diana

being a pretty badass detective when it comes to max lord and the dreamstone

oh! and then meeting barbara. she was pretty cool

jk she was a lil wild ngl

and it was between defeating her and saving your mother and her first love, you knew which was more important

and your mother was proud of how responsible and caring you had become

soon enough, she did have to renounce her wish

and you had to say bye to steve

“hey kid, it was really great knowing you. i’m so glad that your mom has a kid like you, you’re gonna do great things” -steve

“and i’m glad my mom got to see you one more time, but i’m sad to see you go. goodbye steve” -you

feeling REALLY bad when your mom was crying next to u

but there was still work to be done

she had armor for you and another from asteria herself

and you two were about to get down to business

“y/n, before we go any further, i have to let you know that this is a one time thing. you will have more opportunities in the future, but after this, you should go back to normal. be a kid for as long as you can. it goes by so fast, i don’t want you to miss out on a second of it” -diana

“i know, mother. i understand” -you

clashing with max

and reminding him of the ✨child neglect✨ that he is at fault for

it was a very rough and emotional couple of minutes

but the world was.....mostly saved

it needed some time to be put back together

and you and your mother had to return to normalcy

“i’m very proud of you, y/n. one day you’ll make an excellent warrior. but you know that there’s no rush” -diana

“i know, mother. but you have to admit, we make a pretty good team” -you

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @randomfandomimagine //

#diana prince imagine #diana prince x reader #diana prince #diana prince x child!reader #diana prince x daughter!reader #diana prince x son!reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #wonder woman imagine #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics #justice league imagine #justice league x reader #justice league

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haikyu-hoe · 3 years

Text

Study partner

Kageyama x reader

one shot, fluff

warnings: none

If you like this fic, a reblog/ like is appreciated, and you can check out my other fanfics too! :)

———————————————————————

You were always a good student, but you didn’t stand out so much. You had a small group of friends, followed the rules, did what was asked of you without questioning it. So when your math teacher asked you to tutor another student, you accepted, not even asking who it was. Looking back on it, you should have. You never hated anyone, but like every human being, there were people you’d rather… avoid. Kageyama Tobio of class 1-3 was one of them. Despite having a rather reserved personality, you were really friendly deep down, and were a quite enthusiastic person. Kageyama was the opposite. He never so much as smiled, he only frowned and scowled. But it was too late- you accepted, and you couldn’t let down Mrs. Nakamura. So, taking a deep breath in, you opened the door to the school’s library and walked in silence to a table where a seemingly angry black-haired boy was sitting.

“Hi, Kageyama. I’m y/k”, you said in a prudent tone. He already seemed upset, no need to make it worst. In an hour or two it would be done. You checked the clock, took a deep breath, and took out a manual.

Kageyama was quiet the whole time, and you didn’t even try to make conversation, simply talking when he needed explanations. His homework was progressing at a good pace, and you were even already done with yours. You could be out of there in, let’s see… half an hour maybe 45 minutes. That was ok. Feeling snacky, you took out a box of homemade cookies from your bag as Kageyama solved a problem. As you took a cookie out, you could see him eyeing it.

“Did you want one?”, you asked politely, tipping the box over to him.

“N- sure.”, he said and quickly grabbed one, as if you were going to change your mind if he didn’t hurry. Strange boy.

As you had thought, after half an hour, you were walking out the library and all the way to your house.

———

It was now Thursday, time for your second appointment with Kageyama. You headed for the library, a tad less nervous than the first time. This time, you had brought him a nice box of cookies, maybe that would warm him up to you.

“Hey Kageyama, I brought you more of the cookies. Are you ready to-”

“I don’t like your cookies, let’s just work.”, he cut you off. His face was all red, and he was looking away. You weren’t sure why this hurt so bad, but tears flooded your eyes. You dropped the box on the table anyways and calmly walked away. Your vision was blurry with tears, but you still grabbed a book on the way out, you had been waiting for that one.

You weren’t expected home for two more hours so you headed for the nice student break room, where you could read in peace. There was practically no one, and you got captivated by your book, forgetting about Kageyama Tobio of class 1-3.

Who knows how long you sat there? What matters is that you got interrupted suddenly by… Kageyama.

“I need help with number 3.”, he said in a cold tone. You looked up. You sighed and got up.

“Fine, let me explain it to you.”, you brought him to a table and helped him, and then got back to your book. You left about half an hour later without a goodbye.

———

Monday again, third studying session with Kageyama. You show up reluctantly, but to your surprise, he isn’t even there. You were going to do your homework anyways- you sit down at the usual table when you notice a piece of paper.

it reads “Meet me at the school gate. Thanks.”

You recognize the bad handwriting; it’s Kageyama’s. What does this mean?? Maybe he just wants to study elsewhere. It would be mean if you stood him up, and you weren’t rude. Putting your books back in your backpack with a sigh, you realized you were feeling stressed about this. With a sigh, you left the library and walked to the school gate at a quick pace.

He was indeed standing there. He was fidgeting as if he was also feeling stressed. This was getting weirder by the minute.

Taking a deep breath in, you wave at him.

“Kageyama! What’s up?”, you say.

He turns abruptly towards you, as if he wasn’t expecting you to show up.

“I wanted to, well, apologize. I did like your cookies. Follow me.”, he said quickly, as if you’d change your mind and go away.

You stood there a few instants, in shock. Where was he taking you? Kageyama was so strange, and you were a bit scared, yet excited. You blinked and realized he was already several feet’s away. You jogged to get back by his side and you walked in silence until he stopped in front of a local restaurant.

He went in, still not saying a word. You asked several questions, but without paying any attention to you, he ordered you guys some food, and went to sit at a table by the window. Giving up, you sat in front of him.

“Thanks for the food, Kageyama. Although i don’t understand why you’re doing this”, you said digging in your plate. You looked out the window and into the lively streets.

“Because… Because i reacted badly to your tutoring since… since i have a crush on you.”, he said blushing like mad, looking very grumpy.

“What??”, you were so confused, but yet it kinda made sens right? That’s why he had been so shy! “Since when? I’m still confused”, you added.

“Ever since the beginning of the school year. You’re an idiot if you didn’t notice.”, he mumbled.

“Hey!! Wait is this a date then?”, you said laughing a bit. Kageyama was really cute with his pouty red face, deep blue eyes and dark silky hair. And it is true that you caught him staring a few times…

“NO!! Are you stupid? Why would this be a date? I just came to apologize-”, he said, clearly panicking.

“Relax, this is nice. And how about a real date this weekend then?”, you said, still laughing.

“Sure”, he replied, calming down and looking a bit surprised.

You left a few minutes later, kissing his cheek before walking home, leaving him to blush on the sidewalk.

———

Today was your date with Kageyama, the real one. You were waiting for him on a park bench, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. He sat silently besides you, and you took his hand silently to guide him further. There was a nice fountain deeper in the park, and you sat in silence in front of it. The view was beautiful,just a few days of sunshine piercing through the clouds. The trees were blooming and Kageyama looked so sweet in this golden lightning.

“You know, you didn’t have to act so rude… I wouldn’t have judged you. Besides, i like hanging out with you, this is fun!”, you said calmly.

Kageyama blushed a bit, and muttered a bunch of incomprehensible words. He then got closer to you, putting his hand on yours. His other hand went up to your shoulder as he dragged you closer. With your free hand, you got his hair out of his face to look in his deep eyes, before trailing it down to his neck. You both got closer and closer, until your lips met in a soft kiss.

He backed off suddenly after a few seconds, cheeks flushing pink. He looked confused and shocked.

“Wait. Does this mean you like me too?”, he asked with a mistrustful look in his sapphire eyes.

“Pftt who’s the idiot now? Are you really asking yourself that question?”, you said, mocking him a bit, before getting closer to him again.

“I understand… I think.”, he said in a shy tone before kissing you again. You shared a passionate kiss for long minutes, sometimes stopping to look tenderly at each other, touching your foreheads together. His hand went all over your arms, stroked your hair, grabbed your tights, like he couldn’t get enough. Meanwhile you we’re hanging on tight to his neck, another hand on his heaving chest. Your fingertips twirled in his jet black hair as the kiss got rougher.

You eventually let go of each other, simply holding hands in the pink and orange sunset.

“So, am i your boyfriend? Like how does this work-”, said Kageyama, breaking the comfortable silence. He seemed nervous again, fidgeting with his hands.

“I’d like that, Kageyama”, you said softly before kissing his cheek.

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 28

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised@alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 27

Next Chapter: Chapter 29

Ultimately, Thomas had to admit there was no way he was getting back to his bedroom without help, and his father drove him even though it was usually close enough to walk. Alastair and Lucie were still there, in conversation with Barbara, but Thomas barely had the strenght to stand up, much less join the conversation, so he only kissed Alastair quickly and went to bed. He would have a conversation with his parents about their protectiveness tomorrow, he told himself.

He slept restlessly that night. He dreamt of the land in between, of the dark ruins and the castle they would become. At some point the dream became increasingly weirder as he ended up running from an army of evil socks. It took a few moments when he woke up to realize that it was a dream, there were no socks attacking him. How did an army of socks even make sense?

He was drenched in sweat and felt disgusting. Part of him wanted to get out of bed to shower and clean up, but that also sounded like a lot of effort and Thomas didn’t feel like he had the strenght to do much more than move from his bed to the couch. Part of him considered just staying in bed, but bed was too wet and gross. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to sweat this much, he never sweat much when he worked out.

He managed to find a towel to dry off with and a clean pajama to change into, and went to the living room carrying two plush owls. After boiling some water and making tea, Thomas collapsed onto the couch. That appeared to be enough exercise for today.

It wasn’t much later when his parents came into the living room, and Thomas braced him for the inevitable worry.

‘How are you feeling, Tommy?’ his mother asked.

He could lie and say he was feeling better, but he also didn’t think he’d be able to get off the couch. They’d see through him anyway.

‘Like a wet towel,’ Thomas said.

Sophie picked up the thermometer and said down next to him.

‘I can take my own temperature,’ Thomas said, a bit more harsh than he’d intended.

His mother looked hurt, although she tried to conceal it. Thomas was adept at looking behind the masks people put on, or perhaps he just was more sensitive to the parts of someone’s body language other people didn’t think about. This would have been a lot easier if he didn’t notice how he made his mother feel.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just that… I don’t like being taken care of. I don’t like being treated as if I’m helpless.’

‘But you are sick,’ his mother said, a bit unsure. ‘You don’t have to do everything by yourself.’

‘I know,’ Thomas said. ‘But I’ve been sick so often and it just hurts so much. I feel like I’m that sick child again.’

‘I never realized you felt that way,’ his mother said, thermometer in her hand, not sure what to do with it. ‘Of course you can take your own temperature. But you can’t do anything on your own, Tom, especially not now.’

‘I know,’ Thomas said. ‘I hate that, I always have. I know you all had to make changes for me, but I never wanted that. And I know that’s not your fault or mine or anyone’s, but I hated being a burden.’

His mother cupped his cheek with her hand. ‘You could never be a burden, Tommy. But why didn’t you tell us you felt that way? I know we can be protective, and there were certainly times where we had to call back your sisters, but we never realized it bothered you.’

‘I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, or anyone else’s,’ Thomas said.

Perhaps the main reason he and Matthew weren’t as close as they used to be was that Matthew was naturally inclined to take care of other people. And sure, that was sweet, and not a bad characteristic at all, but it did clash with Thomas’ need for independence.

His mother took his hand. ‘You know you can tell us everything, right? I never meant to hurt you, I just want to protect you.’

‘I don’t need to be protected,’ Thomas said. ‘I know I’m sick right now, but it’s always like this. And I understand, I know you’re worried, and I know how exhausting and terrifying it was to take me to all those different doctors when none of them could tell you what was wrong with me. But that passed, and I grew up. I’m not a sick child anymore.’

Thomas put the thermometer in his ear, and took it out when it beeped to read it. ‘39,5,’ he said. ‘That’s worse than yesterday.’

‘Maybe we should take you to see a doctor,’ Sophie suggested.

‘They’ll just tell you I have the flu and need rest,’ Thomas said. ‘Or if this is something supernatural, there won’t be much a doctor can do. If anything, Jem can take a look and see if I need to go to the hospital, right?’

‘Of course,’ his mother said. ‘I’m just scared. I hope you understand that.’

‘I do,’ Thomas said. ‘I know, I’m scared too. But I think I’d prefer if you just left me. I know I can’t do everything myself, I could barely get from my bed to the couch. But if I need anything, I’ll ask.’

‘Alright. You ask what you need for. But don’t be afraid to ask, I know you prefer to solve everything by yourself and sometimes you can’t. Do you want anything for breakfast?’

‘I have no appetite whatsoever,’ Thomas said.

‘I can make you some soup if you want,’ his mother suggested. ‘It is important that you eat and drink as much as you can.’

‘Maybe later,’ Thomas said as he attempted to drink his tea.

He was a bit dehydrated, he guessed, which was no surprise. He was so cold and shivering, maybe tea would help him get a little warm again.

‘Do you have another blanket?’ Thomas asked when he’d found a comfortable position on the couch.

He was still cold, his teeth clattering, and he wasn’t exactly comfortable. He found the box of paracetamol on the table where he’d left it and swallowed two, hoping that would lower the fever a bit, but so far no success.

His mother returned with another blanket and a wet towel. Thomas gratefully put the blanket over his feet. It was one of the disadvantages to being so tall, he always needed longer blankets, a longer bed, everything. It was all very inconvenient. He put the wet towel in his neck, and wiped off his forehead a little.

‘You’re not feeling any better, are you Tom?’ his father asked.

‘Not really,’ Thomas said.

‘Lucie just called. She and Cordelia want to go after Tatiana. Will and Tessa are going with them, at least they need someone to drive them. Would you be alright if I went with them? It is probably silly of me, but Tatiana is still my sister and I think there’s a part of me that hopes she is not lost.’

‘I understand,’ Thomas said. ‘If Babs or Genie did something like this I would try everything to get them back. Although I really can’t picture either of them doing this.’

‘Me neither. But I guess I felt the same about Tatiana. She was always very well behaved as a child, she could be sweet even. Eager to please father. I know Gabriel has completely given up on her, but I can’t. I will only go if that’s alright with you though. If you need me here, I’ll stay.’

‘Mom will still be here, won’t she?’

‘Yes, and Alastair and Jem are staying too. They think it’s best at least one person who knows how to wield a weapon stays here with you, and I don’t think Alastair wanted to leave your side either.’

‘I hope he doesn’t worry too much,’ Thomas said quietly.

‘We all worry,’ Gideon responded. ‘He’s a sweet guy, it’s obvious you two like each other very much. And he and Jem are on their way here. We’ll keep in touch.’

His father hugged him, and Thomas noticed there were tears in his eyes. If they failed, then this might be the last time he saw his father, Thomas realized. If they failed, he would die, probably within days. It still confused him, how Jesse had been sick but had died of getting lost, but Thomas was about to die of this sickness. Or did the thief have any more surprises?

‘I love you, Tom. Please don’t die.’

***

Lucie woke up early in the morning to start working with the locket. Barbara remembered everything now. It had taken some work from both her and Alastair and even now Lucie was still tired from using so much power. She could command someone to live, but only for a couple of hours at most. It wasn’t the same as resurrecting someone, she couldn’t bring someone back from the dead, but she could make them experience what it was to live again. It was not the same as simply making someone visible, it was much more than visibility. It was also exhausting and she could only do it so often.

Lucie herself hadn’t seen the memories, she couldn’t keep Barbara in a state of living and follow Alastair into the memory at the same time. Alastair was the only one who had seen the but he’d shared everything that was important. They had a better grasp of who the thief was now. Her mother was still working on her memory, and Lucie wasn’t sure why Barbara’s entire memory had come back when her mother still only remembered bits and pieces.

Barbara had been a servant of sorts in the palace. He mainly chose women he considered attractive for those positions, it seemed, and she’d overheard some conversations he’d had with more powerful souls while sweeping the floor. Everything combined, they’d concluded some souls could work their way up in his realm, and they’d concluded the thief had been mortal once and therefore could be killed. They’d gotten an idea of his power, and Lucie began to suspect it was much like her own magic, even if he was still far more powerful. It made sense that she was his granddaughter. He had the power of shapeshifting too, something Lucie didn’t think she could do, but something her mother used to do. Before she lost her magic. Lucie wondered if there was any way she could get it back.

If anyone could stop him, it was them. Cordelia’s sword, Lucie’s magic, those were weapons he couldn’t have that much experience with, right? Tessa might have only been able to seal him, but Lucie suspected her power was different from her mother’s even if it was similar. And Tessa had been on her own.

Alastair hadn’t found any information of other people trying to fight or stop him. He had figured out the thief was immortal, but not invulnerable, and although they weren’t absolutely sure, they suspected cortana would hurt him.

‘The trickiest part would be to find him,’ Alastair had said. ‘But I’ve seen quite a bit of the realm now, maybe I could.’

But Thomas had gotten even sicker, and therefore Tatiana would need to be found first. That was the plan. Find Tatiana, stop or at least slow down her plan so Thomas wouldn’t die, and then enter the realm of the thief to kill him. The only missing piece of information was where to find him, but Lucie’s best guess would be the ruins, except as a full castle in his own realm.

Lucie turned the locket around in her hand. It was pretty, she guessed. She knew it was supposed to open, but she couldn’t figure out her way around the lock. Somehow it seemed sealed shut.

She would need to get it to work before they could find Tatiana. Jesse had written something about how only she could make it work. Had he made this thing himself, or had Tatiana? But then why would she be able to use it? Lucie concluded it had to have something to do with her power.

‘Any progress?’ Cordelia asked as she came downstairs, dressed for battle?

Her hair was a bit messy still, braided, but not well and strands were falling out of her braid. She was wearing a loose brown tunic that was tucked at the waist over black leggings, clothes she could move in even if they did not offer much protection. Not that other clothes would, they didn’t exactly have armor lying around.

‘Not yet,’ Lucie said. ‘What did you do to your hair?’

‘I prefer to have it out of my face, but this looks like nothing. I hate to admit it but I cannot braid my own hair,’ Cordelia said.

‘Doing your own hair is harder than someone else’s,’ Lucie said. ‘Come here, I’ll fix it.’

Lucie undid Cordelia’s braid, and then went to find several hairbrushes, hairpins and elastic bands. Instead, she braided Cordelia’s hair into a crown shape, using pins to keep everything in place, finishing with some hair spray.

‘You won’t worry about your hair getting in your face now,’ Lucie said.

‘Good. It looks nice, I like it. Have you figured out how to summon Jesse?’

‘I think I’m supposed to open the locket,’ Lucie said. ‘But I can’t. You’re stronger than me, can you try?’

Cordelia carefully pulled at the locket, but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Didn’t Jesse’s note say you had to open it?’

‘Yes, but I’m not sure how. I’ve tried asking it to open, but that didn’t work. I’m considering traveling to the land in between and trying it there but that would mean I’d bring Jesse back there.’

Cordelia gazed at the ceiling, something she and her brother often did when they were thinking. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t ask the locket. Maybe you should ask a ghost.’

‘A ghost?’

‘If only a ghost can use it, then you’re the only living person who can use it. At least around here.’

‘Perhaps. It’s worth a try. But if that’s how it works, Jesse really should have been less vague.’

‘He could have been scared Tatiana would find it. Assuming she doesn’t know how it works or how to use it. Or that Jesse changed something so that only a ghost could open it.’

Lucie wasn’t sure what to think of any of these explanations, all she knew was she was getting tired of all these vague explanations where she had to figure everything out on her own.

She found Jessamine in the bathroom upstairs, looking at herself in the mirror and doing something with her hair. What it was, Lucie couldn’t tell, it looked the same as always.

‘Jess, can you help me with something?’ Lucie asked.

‘What do you need?’ Jessamine asked.

‘Please open this locket for me,’ Lucie said, handing Jessamine the locket.

Jessamine pulled at the edges and without too much effort the locket opened. Jesse appeared by her side.

‘So you did find the locket,’ Jesse said. ‘I’m not sure how much time we have. My mother moved. A part of the ritual needed to be done in Thomas’ proximity, but she’s past that now. She’s currently in a hotel in Inverness, and I can give you an address and room number. That’s where she has set up everything to complete the ritual. If you do nothing, the exchange will be complete at midnight.’

Jesse wrote down the address on a piece of paper and Lucie wondered if he could only do that because he was near her, or if that was how much stronger he’d become.

Lucie frowned. ‘Why do you not wish to save yourself?’

‘I never wanted anyone to die for me,’ Jesse said. ‘So many died. That boy in the lake. The thief asked my mother for a gifted child and she decided to try if she could drown a boy who was a competitive swimmer. I don’t know how many before that. I don’t want to bear that guilt. I just want to move on and forget about this life. I’ve always liked the idea of reincarnation. So many lives cut short, it’s nice to think I might have another chance. I would choose that over continuing the life I lost.’

Lucie understood. She would never wish for someone else to die so she could live. She just wished there was a way to save both Jesse and Thomas, but even with her power she couldn’t bring people back from the dead.

‘How do we stop her?’ Lucie asked.

‘Tatiana has to be the one to cast the spell. That’s why she hid from you, so she could speak the incantations to bring me back and kill Thomas from a safe place. She said he’s fallen ill due to her progression, is that true?’

Lucie nodded. ‘He has a fever and seems to be getting worse.’

‘When my mother finishes the incantation at midnight, Thomas will die. The spell requires that it is done just before midnight in this world, so if you stop her but she escapes, you’ll buy yourself at least a day. But in the end, you’ll want to stop her for good.’

‘Can we do that without killing her?’ Lucie asked.

‘Only if you destroy the thief,’ Jesse said. ‘But if you keep her a prisoner until you do that you’ll have the time you need. If you can, please don’t hurt her. I know what she did is awful, but she’s still my mother.’

Lucie nodded, she suspected Gideon wouldn’t want them to hurt his sister either if there was a way to stop it. Abducting her seemed like a decent solution, if they could make sure she was unable to finish the incantation then at the very least Thomas would not die.

‘So if we stop her, then things will remain as they are?’ Lucie asked.

‘I think so, yes,’ Jesse said. ‘I’ve grown so much stronger the past day, but I am not yet alive. I think Thomas will not die, but he won’t get better either until you find a more permanent solution. And Lucie, I am yours to command if you need me.’

Jesse began to flicker. ‘I need to return. My mother will find me missing. You’ll have to hurry, it is a long drive to Inverness.’

Jesse disappeared. A drive, which meant they’d need at least one person with a license to come with them. Lucie and Cordelia were both too young to drive. Lucie returned to the living room, where her parents, uncle Jem, and Alastair and Cordelia were discussing strategies.

‘I found out where Tatiana is,’ Lucie said. ‘Jesse gave me an address. It’s a drive of several hours and we’ll need to be there by midnight as that’s when Thomas will die if we don’t stop Tatiana. However, if we stop her from speaking the incantation, then the whole thing will be postponed until she does say them before midnight.’

‘So if we abduct her, that will buy us time,’ Alastair concluded. ‘But it will not end the whole thing?’

‘No, Jesse didn’t think so,’ Lucie said. ‘Either way, we have no time to lose and need at least one person to drive. Who is coming?’

‘We’ll need at least one person who can fight to stay behind,’ Alastair said. ‘In case it is a trick, in case something will come for Thomas and it’s not the sickness that will kill him.’

Lucie suspected Alastair did not want to leave Thomas. They hadn’t been together long, but they’d fallen into couple mode quite easily, with Alastair staying by Thomas’ side as much as he could.

‘You’re not coming with us, then?’ Cordelia asked.

Alastair refused to look her in the eye. Lucie had noticed it was something he struggled with, especially when things got too stressful.

‘I think it is best if I stay with Thomas,’ Alastair said.

Cordelia frowned, tried to find her brother’s gaze. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘I trust you know what’s best.’

‘I’ll stay too,’ Jem said. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve fought anything, but I hope I can help take care of Thomas.’

‘I’ll drive,’ Will offered. ‘I’m sure Gideon will want to come, although I don’t think he’ll be able to reason with his sister anymore.’

‘I’m not letting you go alone,’ Tessa said.

‘You’re not letting me?’ Will asked.

‘I know how reckless you get. You haven’t changed that much since we met,’ Tessa said. ‘And Lucie is not much different. I’ll need to come to keep you all in check. Besides, I stopped the thief once. I’m starting to remember how I did it, even if it wasn’t enough in the end.’

Lucie worried about her parents coming, they did not have any special powers and were out of practice with their weapons, but she had to agree her mother was a bit more level headed.

‘You can borrow a dagger if you want,’ Alastair told Will. ‘Lucie has one already, and Cordelia has cortana, but I think it is wise to bring something so you can defend yourself. Just be quick about it, Inverness is a long drive and you only have until midnight.’

#Thomas Lightwood #Lucie Herondale #Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomastair #Lucelia #the last hours #tlh #fanfiction

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spideyanakin · 3 years

Text

Far From Home - Part 4

Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis; Coming from another reality yourself, what will happen when you see straight through the lies of the mysterious Quentin Beck.

Series Masterlist 🍒

Normal Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

"Sweety, can you run to the store please?" Your mother's voice echoed in your ears as you fixed your hair in the mirror.

"Sure mom." you smiled as you grabbed your purse from the counter and headed out the door.

The warm summer breeze brushed against your skin as you walked along the long streets of your city, the perfect setting settling an unsure feeling down your stomach. The more you walked the weirder it felt. The air was closing inside your lungs settling even more insecurity in you.

You looked around the aisles of the supermarket, the feelings slowly coming up to your head making you feel dizzy. You hanged onto your cart as you tried making your way a little quicker through the different foods. Grabbing onto your cereal box the air suddenly became even more unbearable to breathe, causing you to use your powers as help.

The bubble of clean air you'd made yourself made you gain back your strength, making you scan around the shop for clues.

The people seemed as though they were normal, some of them seemed more tired than others but what alarmed you was the suddenly high pitch noise that rang through the room causing every single person to collapse.

You walked between the aisles in a hurry finally reaching for the blue sky. Instead of finding the beautiful scenery you'd find before, you found a blue sky that was turning darker by the second and the air being so heavy it could crush you.

An evil laugh rang through your planet, making you turn your eyes to every corner of the sky. You ran away to Kayland's house, trying your best to keep the air bubble stable as you felt the air around you almost close.

"Kayland!" You screamed his name, running around his house in a fury before you found him unconscious laying on the ground. You screamed in panic, tears running down your eyes as you used your last piece of strength to fill his lungs with air.

"C'mon stable breaths." You cried out as he breathed, sharing the air bubble that you had extended.

"What's happening." He opened his eyes and closed them again as all he felt was dizziness.

"I think they're removing the air from the atmosphere." You cried out before you turned around on yourself in panic, Kayland taking you in his arms for comfort, trying to take his breath again for himself.

"What are we going to do?" You cried out as you already knew you weren't strong enough to bring all the air back.

"I don't know." Kyland's voice appeared like it was real, waking you up from your dream.

But to your surprise, it was like the events were all happening again.

You were in a same looking place as Kylands townhouse, and it seemed as though he was standing right in front of you.

"Kyland?" You questioned and he smiled.

"Yes?"

"Where are we?" You questioned as everything felt similar. A giant deja-vue. Every little detail being as though you woke up in your own dream.

Suddenly, just like that day back in your reality; a comet look-alike came crashing down, making the integrity of your earth tremble and start burning.

You screamed, maybe even still thinking you were dreaming before quickly trying to get up, but failing. The only problem being; you were tied to a chair.

"Kyland!" you screamed as you tried to move up and down. "Help me!" You screamed tears of pain but instead of being any help Kyland suddenly disappeared and the whole room changed. You now face to face with him in your old room. You took a few seconds to look around, instantly missing it.

Everything was the same to the detail. From the pictures on the wall to the paper lamp on the ceiling. The wooden desk that was always messy, filled with colorful useless things and a large pile of homework that just peacefully took the dust in a corner.

Then your stare went back to Kyland.

He was dressed completely differently, his outfit being normal. Something you hadn't seen on him in a while. He was wearing a navy blue shirt, with his favorite pair of jeans that reflected his crystal blue eyes. You took a second to watch him in his normal clothes for once, the moment making you breathless as it had been years since he hadn't worn anything but his reality keeper clothes.

"Here." He gave you a small smile as he turned the knife he had in his hand, freeing you from your ropes.

"Where are we?" You took a second to admire his freckled and then coming back up to his diamond eyes that were full of worry.

"Your room?" He chuckled with a saddened tone.

"I know that look." You pointed it. "This is the day you-" You breathed out before taking a long look around. "How is this possible?" You asked and he gave you a confused look before making you sit on your bed.

"You sure you're alright?" He questioned lingering his hand on your shoulders.

"No" You shook your head as everything was perfectly resembling your old reality. "I'm dreaming- I- I must be" You almost screamed as you lost your mind.

"Y/n, please. This isn't a dream." He sighed making you sit on your bed again. "I don't know what's wrong with you but I have to tell you something." He sighed and your eye went wide as every word from the past part of his sentence matched the real event.

"You're gay, I know!" You almost screamed as you were losing your mind.

"What? How did you know? You're not- You're not mad?" He went from confused to concerned in seconds.

"Kayland... I don't know how or where we are." You pointed to the ground. "But you told me this almost 3 years ago. Yes. I was devasted, back then, but I moved on." You chuckled in disbelief. "I told you I'd never love anyone as much as I loved you, you told me that it wasn't true and that I'd fall head over heels for a nice straight boy?" He pinched the rim of your nose as all he was showing was confusion. "Remember? And I still call it the day you broke my heart? My nickname for you is my soulmate? And I have moved on?" You smiled as you thought of Peter, somehow forgiving Peter for everything. "I have a boyfriend? Peter?" You tried to add some sense into the situation but nothing seemed to work as he looked at you with a blank stare. "A year after this and our reality burned to ashes?" You were almost about to cry. "You became a reality keeper a little before?" You were about to throw something at him as he scratched the tanned skin on his arm as he tried to make sense out of what you were saying.

"C'MON!" you screamed. "Kyland please remember." You hugged him as tight as you could. "This isn't real." You sniffed. "Where are we?" You cried and he wrapped his arms around you.

"You still love me?" He questioned with a small voice.

"Of course I do." You cried. "You're the love of my life Kyland. You're my best friend, you're my brother."

"I thought Peter was the love of your life?" He asked and you didn't think anything of his words as you answered his question.

"Yes." You chuckled. "He's the love of my life, but you're also the love of my life. You're the platonic love of my life." You sniffed as Mysterio got exactly what he wanted from you.

"Alright now make him die." He whispered in his tech guy's ear, the man nodding and clicking on a few buttons.

Kyland suddenly choked, making you pull away from him in panic.

"Kyland?" You wondered and suddenly saw blood staining his shirt your breath picking up pace. "Kyland what happened?" You sniffed, tears uncontrollably falling down your eyes as you watch him die in your arms.

Before you knew it the whole room disappeared in a cloud of purple and green smoke. You screamed his name and took a second to look around.

"So he's the reality keeper friend?" Mysterio's voice echoed through the room, making you turn around to spot whoever was speaking. "Interesting"

"Mysterio" You realized as the pieces of the puzzle came together.

"I got just what I needed." He let out a wicked laugh making you scream even louder.

"Why are you doing this!?" You screamed angrily wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.

"Don't you see?" His voice echoed as you tried to get away from trees suddenly popping out of the floor. "You were powerless." You suddenly turned around and spotted the faces of your loved ones on the trees. "You couldn't save them." His words made you cry. "They thought you could though." He chuckled and the more the trees popped out of the ground, the more faces of your lost ones haunted you. "So it's a little bit like me." You tried to run away but you were brutally stopped by a statue of Peter. "I make the attacks. Save everyone, and they praise me."

You turned around trying to leave once again but something caught your leg, making you fall. You screamed as you watched the one monster that had destroyed your universe drag you. You closed your eyes and tried to breathe as you tried hanging onto the floor, making vines for support but nothing worked, you were dragged like the wind would make a paper bag fly.

Suddenly the ground disappeared and your entire body was dangling in the air. You hanged on tight, not knowing how deep the fall would be if you let go, or where you'd even land.

"Peter!" You screamed as you saw him walk right above you, trying your best to raise your hand to him. "Peter help" You cried, not knowing if it was really him. He grabbed your hand wickedly smiling as he did. Once you were almost up, he pushed you the look on your face priceless to Mysterio.

You screamed controlling the air to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself. To your surprise, you fell barely a meter from where you were dangling. Taking a large breath to calm your nerves, trying to feel everything that was around you.

You closed your eyes laying on the floor, and heard talking but didn't feel anything in the air, but small flying objects. 'Drones' you thought not daring to whisper it. You focused on them your eyes still closed, twisting the winds so fast and so strong that you made them fly to the ceiling.

"NO! No! No! No! She can't do that! My drones!" Mysterio punched the table making everything on it jump

"Technically they're Stark's drones" a man added from the back of the room, making Mysterio take the commands and pointing a drone right at him

"Say that again." He grumbled as his face became red with anger.

"Your drones Sir-" Jerry replied in terror as he took refuge in the other room when the drone wasn't pointing to him anymore.

"What will you do about the girl?" John; his head of security wondered and Mysterio sharply snapped his head towards him, being inches away from the man.

"I'll take care of it." With the snap of his fingers, he suited up and opened the door that led to the test room.

He angrily shoved the door open making you jump. You opened your eyes to reveal a grey bright lit room.

"What do you want with me?"

"Where do you think you're going?" MJ took Peter red-handed as he walked towards your room to make amends.

"Apologising-" he pointed towards your door with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well if she's not with you then she isn't in her room." She gave him back his tight-lipped smile.

"What? She isn't in her room?" Peter asked a little surprise in his tone.

"No, I've been waiting for her. She even gave me a spare key just in case" MJ dangled your room card in front of Peter's face as light worry settled in both their stomachs, Peters worries being a little more obvious.

"Well did you check her room!?" He exclaimed.

"Yes, dummy. When she didn't answer her room after she texted me she was coming back. Thought she was with you!"

"She isn't with me."

"Well, I can see that!" MJ snapped back before thinking of something. "Let's check again, although I didn't see her walk-in" She walked towards your door and knocked waiting for an answer, but nothing.

"Y/n?" She waited a few seconds before calling your name again. But when you didn't answer after another call she opened the door to reveal an empty room.

"She didn't get back," Peter mumbled. "Something happened." He mumbled in fear and MJ quickly stopped him as he was about to run away.

"I need to show you something first, I think it might help you." Peter looked at her a little confused as MJ slipped into her room and got her backpack out, checking there was no one around before slipping out a piece of metal with his webs glued to it.

"Nymph- or shall I say Y/n told me to keep this." She handed him the piece.

Peter looked at her with a confused stare before taking the broken strand of the drone.

"She to-"

"Told me? Nah I figured it out." She smiled in content at seeing Peter's face fall. "and I know you're spider-man"

"I'm not Spider-man-" He lied and she saw straight through him.

Suddenly the piece he was holding projected something making Peter jump and loudly drop it. He looked at the cloud that was forming as if it was a movie before it disappeared again.

"Mysterio-" He whispered almost choking as everything made sense.

Everything you had ever said made sense, and Peter was paying the price. Whatever Mysterio had planned, he knew you knew and was using you as the perfect bait.

"Shit-" He cursed, panic rising. "MJ, Spider-man duty calls." He blurted out before darting to his room.

"Where are you going?"

"To save my girl."

- - - - - - - - -

@averyfosterthoughts @justifymyfeelings @slytherinambitious @criminaly-supernatural@supernaturallover2002 @trustfundparker @tomhollandreads@prettysbliss @ksmy-99 @allycat449-blog @big-galaxy-chaos

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hklnvgl · 3 years

Note

For the fic prompts! Pynch + You’ve said you’re going to leave, but I don’t want you to go and if I don’t say something now… AND/OR Just please be my friend right now, not the guy i just confessed my love to

(this is set the same night of that church scene in bllb)

Ronan wasn’t going to pick up. He’d actually been planning to throw his phone as far as his headphones cord allowed as soon as he managed to make his hands stop shaking for the second it would take to plug the stupid thing.

But he’d involuntarily looked down at the screen when his phone had gone off in his hand, and the screen read St. Agnes.

He let it ring.

He just wanted to make sure his phone didn’t die on him, put on his music and forget the past few hours. He maybe needed a beer for that. He didn’t trust his legs to carry him to the bathroom to get one, though, so he stayed put, still looking at the now-blank screen.

It started ringing again.

He picked up.

There was, of course, no nun on the other side. It was three in the fucking morning.

“Parrish?” he said, because all he could hear was a kind of muffled sound he really didn’t want to identify. At least Adam was breathing—unlike the body he’d just buried, behind the barn where Ronan and Matthew would always hide when playing hide and seek with Declan, before Declan stopped wanting to play—

“Ronan,” Adam finally muttered. It was a ragged sound, very unlike Adam Parrish.

Ronan stood up.

“Parrish?”

Adam didn’t have time to answer before Ronan’s battery ran out on him.

Ronan threw his phone against the wall his room shared with Noah’s, and then he also threw the jacket he’d just taken off—still splattered with mud and dirt and maybe dried blood that would perfectly match Ronan’s DNA—for good measure.

Breathing deeply, Ronan tied his shoes. He took another jacket and put it on. He didn’t wake Gansey when he passed by his bed.

His hands were still shaking when he parked in front of St. Agnes.

He found Adam kneeling in the office, still clutching the phone pressed to his right ear. For a moment, Ronan thought he was maybe talking to Blue. But Adam didn’t look up when Ronan came in—he kept staring into space, like when he was scrying.

“Parrish,” Ronan said. Adam blinked. When Ronan came closer, he could hear the disconnected call tone coming from the phone. Adam didn’t fight him when he removed the handset from his curled fingers. “Adam.”

“Yeah.”

“Good. You’re there. What the fuck.”

But Adam didn’t seem to be there. He just nodded when Ronan suggested they go upstairs. The door had been left open, which was something Adam never did.

“You lost your key or something?”

Adam seemed to wake up then.

“Ronan,” he said, as if surprised to see Ronan there, as if Ronan wouldn’t come after a call like that, after a day like that. “You died,” he whispered.

Ronan didn’t need a reminder.

“Yes, I was there, fuck you very much. The fuck happened here?”

“I made you kill yourself,” Adam said, still in a too-brittle voice, “and then I left you alone, and I wanted to call you and I know I really should not have because—”

“You called me.”

“I did?”

“I’m gonna close the door,” Ronan said.

“What for?”

The night was getting weirder by the minute. Ronan opened Adam’s tiny fridge, to see if Blue had left yogurt around here like she did at Monmouth all the time.

“Wouldn’t want you to get robbed.”

Adam didn’t smile at the joke. Ronan was about to try again, about how Adam should find himself a bigger fridge to be able to fit a total count of one butter stick and three eggs and a beer can that Ronan was pretty sure he had left there himself something like a month ago, but something made him pause.

“Did someone rob you, Parrish?” he asked.

“What? No, of course not. What would anyone want to steal from here?”

“Dunno. You’ve been acting weird.”

“I haven’t,” Adam said.

“Why did you call me?”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“No refunds.”

“Sorry, then.” After that, Adam stayed quiet.

“You didn’t make me kill myself. It was a dream. Shit happens,” Ronan said, because he didn’t want Adam to start drifting away again, like he had before.

“That’s—I can’t be what you need me to be. I’m not even who you think I am—This is just—”

“Some of us can’t follow that brilliant brain of yours, Parrish. You’re gonna have to slow down.”

“I know, Ronan.” For maybe the first time since Ronan had arrived, Adam looked at him. “I know how you feel. About me, I mean. And I’m—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, because I really cannot—Right now, I can’t—I couldn’t—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan said, because apparently he had driven here just to be rejected to his face, but Adam was the one blinking suspiciously fast for whatever reason.

Adam didn’t listen.

“I just wanted someone to be here, and all I could think was about you, and how you make me feel better when you’re here, but the very fact that I wanted to ask you to come and comfort me after what happened earlier, after what I just told you—God, shit, I’m such a terrible person, why can’t you see that? You died and still I call you here to—”

“To what. Why did you call me? Why did you want me to comfort you,” he sneered, “tonight?” Tonight, after they’d fought, after Ronan had left to bury his own body, after something had shaken Adam so badly that he’d felt the need to uncover all of Ronan’s secrets and poke at them until they bled.

Adam smiled. It was not a happy smile—he looked exhausted and miserable and like he was in pain. Suddenly, Ronan remembered when Adam had also looked like that—back before he’d moved out of the trailer, when he got back to school after missing class for a couple of days, walking stiffly and saying he had migraines when Gansey asked him about it during lunch.

“You should hate me, Ronan Lynch.”

Ronan came to sit down next to Adam.

“I’d need a very good reason for that.”

Adam nodded. “I can’t date you,” he said, with such a severity that Ronan wondered if he truly believed Ronan would just stand up and leave him in the middle of this breakdown he was having because he had just been friendzoned, or something.

“I can get over you not liking me back, Parrish.”

Adam shook his head.

“But I like you,” he muttered. “I just can’t date you.”

Ronan would be having nightmares about this moment for the foreseeable future. That was fine. What was one more thing to add to the pool, right?

“Okay,” he said, even though nothing was okay. “Look, man, you don’t gotta tell me shit. But something’s clearly not okay and I don’t really know what you’re talking about but—shit, Adam. What the fuck.” Yes, Ronan was totally panicking now, because Adam Parrish was crying.

“My dad came earlier,” Adam whispered, and furiously started wiping at his eyes, as if he was embarrassed.

“Fucking shit. Adam.” Ronan was also whispering, but he actually felt like yelling, it was just not enough air in the room for that. Adam was supposed to be safe here. That was the whole point. Adam needed to be safe and happy and very far away from pieces of shit who looked at him and for some wrecked reason their brains told them it was a good idea to hurt this marvelous boy until he believed the marvel had fled from him.

“You okay?” Ronan rasped, leaning closer so that he could inspect Adam better. “Did he hurt you?”

Adam’s breath caught on a sob, but he shook his head. Ronan of course didn’t believe that for a second—Adam’s face might not have been spurting any fresh bruises, but he had gotten hurt all right.

“Okay. Okay, shit. What do you need.”

“Just—please? Can you be my friend right now, and not the guy I just confessed to?”

Ronan snorted. Yes, now was not the time to talk about that. Holy shit.

“Of fucking course, dipshit. Come here. Hug time.” He opened his arms. Adam fell into them. There, the easiest thing in the world—why couldn’t everyone else see that? Adam sniffled and buried his nose deeper into Ronan’s clavicle. Ronan tightened his embrace around his waist, hoping Adam would guess right and take it to mean Ronan was not going to leave.

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hyucks-archive · 4 years

Text

of happily ever afters.

word count: 6,978

genre: fluff, tinge of angst, female!reader

member(s): jeno, featuring jaemin

warning(s): fictional depiction of hyperthymesia, mention of death of foster parent, ill relations with foster parent

author’s note: i have been very much in my jeno feels lately, and i can finally mark off bookstore au from my bucket list, so a big yay to this fic, i hope you enjoy

“Hey,” Jaemin greets with a smile, placing his bag on the countertop. Jeno looks up briefly, flashing a small smile at his friend. “You’re early,” he comments, eyes glancing at the antique clock that decorates the mostly empty brick wall. “It’s close to eleven,” Jaemin replies, taking a seat on one of the high stools. Jaemin rests his folded arms on the countertop, tilting his head to the side while he watches as Jeno continues to write in his log book. Pursing his lips, he scans the interior of the small, dimly-lit, vintage-decorated bookstore. Jaemin’s eyes rest on the familiar customer.

You’re seated with your left leg over your right leg, your chin resting in your palm, in the comfort of your favourite corner, in your favourite bookstore. The book of choice is laid open to page 5, resting atop the table. You’re supposed to be getting lost in the world of fantasy, engrossed in every little detail, in every little word used. But, your eyes are fixed on the text.

Jaemin raises a brow as he continues to watch you from a distance. He can tell from your eyes that you’re lost in thought. You’re not focused on the book in front of you at all. His eyes travel downwards to focus on the book that’s sitting on the table, untouched. It doesn’t look like you’ve made any progress from the previous night. It could also be that you’ve moved on to another book. His eyesight isn’t good enough for him to really decipher which it is.

“Why are you staring?” Jeno questions, tone low and quiet. He glances over at you, to ensure that you’re not listening in on their conversation. Jaemin turns his head to face Jeno, humming in surprise. “Oh, nothing,” Jaemin says, turning his head in your direction once more. “Is she reading a new book?” he asks. Jeno looks at you once more; you’re once again, zoning out. “Nope. She’s been reading that book for a month now,” Jeno shares, shifting his attention to his messy work area. He begins to clean, preparing to knock off for the night.

“A month?” Jaemin repeats, frowning. “It looks like she’s barely gotten through the first page of that book,” Jaemin says, looking up to meet eyes with Jeno. Jeno shrugs, grabbing the stray stationary to place them into the stationary holder.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you stand up, sliding the chair under the table. Closing the book, you hold it in your left hand, while you hold up your mostly empty cup of iced peach tea with your right hand. Taking another look to ensure that you’ve taken everything with you, you walk towards the counter. Like routine, you nod your head in acknowledgement at the blue-haired friend of the owner of the bookstore. Placing the book on the counter, you slide it towards the brown-haired boy. “Goodnight,” you greet, turning to take your leave.

Jaemin watches as you turn a corner.

“Stop staring,” Jeno says.

“Don’t you find it weird?” Jaemin begins, eyes on Jeno as he continues, “She comes here every day, sits in that same seat, and leaves at 10:59PM sharp. It’s even weirder, now that I know she’s been reading the same book for a month, yet she’s still on the first few pages of that book.” Jaemin’s brows are furrowed in confusion, his eyes scanning his friend’s face for an expression. Jeno remains nonchalant, picking up his backpack, keys in hand. “How are you not curious about what’s going on with her?” Jaemin prompts, both brows raised.

Jeno takes in a breath. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t curious.

You’ve been a regular at his bookstore for five months now. He vaguely recalls when he first began paying attention to you – you’d enter five minutes after opening hours, pick the same book, claim the same seat, and order an iced peach tea with every daily visit. Then, you’d leave a minute before closing time, greeting with a simple ‘goodnight’. However, it wasn’t your routinely behaviour that sparked his interest. It was the fact that the book you picked out, was the classic ‘The Princess and the Pea’. Jeno was confused. It was a children’s fairy tale; the book consisted of huge text and cute illustrations, amounting to 48 pages in total. Yet, even after three weeks, your routine didn’t change. You’d still go for that same book.

Jeno thought he’d do you a favour by keeping the book at the counter, so that you wouldn’t have to reach for it at the bookshelves. He remembers the small, insignificant conversation from that day. He remembers the way you frowned, walking up to him, questioning, “Did someone rent ‘The Princess and the Pea’?” Jeno held out the book with a soft smile, “It’s right here. I thought it would be easier for you to just buy your drink and collect the book at the same time, instead of having to reach so high, since this book is placed on one of the upper shelves.”

He remembers the way your expression softened, but your brows remained knitted. “Thanks, but I’d prefer if you left the book on the shelf,” you had said. It made Jeno feel flustered, as though he didn’t just try to do something nice for a regular customer. After that incident, he never meddled with, nor questioned you. He was surprised when the fourth month drew to a close, and you had finally moved on from ‘The Princess and the Pea’. It remains one of the biggest mysteries to Jeno until this day – how, and why did it take you four months to finish a 48-paged children’s book?

Shaking away these thoughts, Jeno smiles at Jaemin, “It’s none of my business,” he states, bending down to lock the doors to the store.

The following night, the night sky roars with thunder.

Your eyes snap up to focus on the hazy streets, the lighted signs of the shops on the opposite side of the road barely legible due to the heavy downpour. Your eyes shift to the antique clock sitting on the brick wall – it’s ten to eleven. You let out a silent sigh; you don’t have an umbrella, and it doesn’t seem like the rain will stop anytime soon.

Jeno looks towards the small umbrella holder beside the glass doors. The previous three customers had taken the three umbrellas he had placed in the umbrella holder, and he knows for a fact that there’s no way you can fit an umbrella in the tiny purse you always carry. It doesn’t help that it’s Thursday, the day that Jaemin doesn’t drop by. He turns in your direction – you’re staring mindlessly at the rain. He checks the time, noting that there’s still seven minutes before closing, or six minutes before you’d leave. He decides to continue with his work.

As the clock strikes 10:59PM, you get up from your seat, slide the chair under the table, sling your bag over your shoulder, with the book in one hand and the empty cup in the other, you walk towards the counter. Placing the book down, you slide it towards the boy.

“Goodnight,” you say, turning to take your leave.

“It’s raining.” You stop at his words. You look up at the sky as he goes on to say, “I don’t have an umbrella either, so I won’t be closing until the rain stops. You can stay, if you’d like.” You turn to look at the boy – he dons a soft smile, the pretty crescents his eyes form still clearly visible despite his big-frame glasses. You nod your head, “Okay.” You take a seat on a high stool by the counter.

“Would you like some hot chocolate?” he offers. “Sure,” you reply.

As Jeno shifts between machines, he steals some glances at you. You’re lost in thought, as usual. He wonders what could possibly be on your mind all the time that enables you to zone out like that. He wonders if tonight will be the night he’d finally find out the reason behind the four months you took to finish a fairy tale. Maybe he’d get lucky, and you’d share more than that. Maybe he’d finally learn the name of the being he has grown so familiar with, yet still as distant as a stranger he’d meet for the first time.

“Here,” he says, placing the mug on a coaster in front of you. You give a small smile, “Thanks.” You take a sip. “Maybe I should give everything on the menu a try,” you say, “This is pretty good,” you compliment, pointing at the mug of hot chocolate in front of you. Your words elicit a shy smile from the boy, who puts up an embarrassed hand. “You’re just being nice,” he denies, with a subtle shake of the head.

“I don’t lie.”

Jeno meets eyes with you at your declaration. He’s searching for a sign, but all he’s receiving is that you’re dead serious. “Oh,” he manages; you’re merely further intriguing him with every passing second. There’s a comfortable silence as you continue to sip on your hot chocolate, while Jeno tries to piece together his words to continue the conversation. He doesn’t want to sound offensive, or probe too much by accident, that it makes you feel uncomfortable. He ponders a little more, eventually deciding to preface his queries with, “Can I ask you something?”

You turn your attention to the boy behind the counter. You smile, nodding your head, a sign for him to go on. Your smile only widens as he continues, “How do you always come in and leave at the exact same time, read the same book for four months, and drink the same drink, all while sitting in that same spot?” He looks over at the said seat, “Don’t you get bored?” You giggle, and an expression of confusion washes over Jeno’s face.

“I need routine,” you say, purposefully placing emphasis on the word ‘need’. Jeno’s features contort further, telling of how your statement did nothing in answering his queries.

You look out of the glass windows – the rain has slowed to a drizzle. Jeno watches your expression, taking note of how your smile never leaves your lips. He’s not the most intuitive, but he can tell your smile isn’t bright. There’s a hint of bitterness to it, though he isn’t sure why. Still, the way your eyes glisten from the reflection of the lights on the street, and the way you’re seated in front of him, smile plastered on your lips, makes his heart feel some kind of way. It’s always been like that. Your presence has had this effect on him ever since month three of your daily visits.

You’re a mystery to him. One where he’s willing to take all the time in the world to unravel.

“What’s your name?” you ask, turning back to look at the cute boy behind the counter. You can tell he’s flustered, but he masks it so well within a split second. “Jeno,” he tells you. You nod your head in understanding, your smile widening. “Jeno,” you repeat.

“If we get another chance,” you begin, pushing yourself off the stool, “I’ll tell you then,” you finish, backing away towards the glass doors. Jeno looks towards the sky – he hadn’t noticed that the rain had stopped. He looks back at you. Tonight, unlike all the other nights, you smile, with a small wave. “Goodnight,” you say, turning around as you pull the glass door towards you, exiting the quaint little bookstore.

Jeno’s eyes come to a rest on the empty mug of hot chocolate, the only remainder of your presence.

“I didn’t get your name,” he murmurs.

Jeno waits patiently for the next opportunity at a conversation with you. Your nightly routine of greeting him with a ‘goodnight’, has evolved into a greeting accompanied with a pleasant smile, of which he treasures very much. It’s the sixth day since you’ve started doing it, and Jaemin has finally taken notice.

“Am I missing something?” he begins, just as your silhouette disappears into the corner of the street. Jeno raises a brow, earning a smug smile and a slight tilt of the head from his blue-haired friend. “What?” Jeno starts.

“She’s smiling,” Jaemin teases, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “And?” Jeno continues, feigning innocence.

“And,” Jaemin’s grin widens, “That means something must’ve happened last Thursday.”

Jeno shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips at the thought of the short conversation the two of you had shared. Jaemin continues to eye Jeno’s expressions, a toothy grin on his lips at how painfully obvious Jeno is being.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Jaemin says, shrugging, “I hope tomorrow night will be your second chance.”

Jaemin’s words reigned true. It’s Thursday night again, a week since you’ve had that conversation with Jeno. The pitter patter began at 10:24PM, and by 10:32PM, it had transitioned into a semi-heavy shower. It’s now 10:57PM, and it’s raining, what people deemed, ‘cats and dogs outside’. You wonder if it’s some sign, that somehow, the downpours only occur every Thursday night, when Jeno’s friend doesn’t visit.

Jeno is staring out the glass doors. It’s finally the day where he’d have the long-awaited second conversation with you. He’s prepared this time. Just as you arrive at the counter, sliding the book that you’ve barely gotten to page 6 of towards him, he places the coaster down in front of you. Reaching below the counter, he pulls out a mug, setting it atop the coaster just as you slide into the high stool. There’s a significant whiff of earl grey. You smile.

“Since you wanted to try other things on the menu,” Jeno states, reflecting your expression. Wrapping your fingers around the mug, you bring it up to your nose, breathing in the fragrant smell of the loose tea leaves. “Premium,” you comment, earning a low chuckle from the boy. You take a sip, nodding your head as you let out a sound of satisfaction, “It’s so fragrant,” you say.

Jeno is staring at you. You chuckle, knowing exactly why.

“Are you that curious?” you ask. Jeno notices the way your smile remains so pleasant, so inviting, yet still with a dash of sorrow in it. He thinks you look beautiful smiling, but a part of him feels sad to see you smiling like that. It’s ironic, to say the least. He nods his head, “I’ve been waiting,” he informs honestly. You giggle.

Humming as your eyes travel around the back of the counter, browsing through the very many machines and materials that decorate Jeno’s small working space, you begin with a question. “Jeno, do you remember what you were doing on May 28, 2012?”

Jeno raises both brows at your question. He squints his eyes, digging through his memories. If you had asked him if he remembers what he did in 2012, he’d probably be able to give you a rough summary of the scraps that he’s still able to pull out from the deep depths of his memory. But, to be asking about such a specific date, leaves Jeno at a lost. That is why he answers with, “I don’t think anyone can remember what they were doing on such a specific date.”

Your smile widens, further confusing the boy.

You prop your arm on the table, resting your chin in your palm, leaning a tad bit closer towards Jeno. It’s a first for him to be able to take in your entirety at such proximity.

“Well, I can,” you say. Jeno spots the sparkle in your eyes, but the slight bit of regret doesn’t go unnoticed. He furrows a brow, expression doubtful. “You can?” he says, tone sceptical. You don’t shy away from the eye contact as you go on to explain, “My mind is like a movie reel. It’s constantly replaying every memory in distinct detail. It’s not just May 28, it’s May 1st through 31st, June 1st through 30th, and basically, anything and almost everything since 2012, it’s etched in my memory.”

Jeno is searching for a sign of a joke. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. Who would? Having autobiographical memory is so rare. You didn’t even believe you had it yourself back then.

“I can’t get through a book without the text triggering the reliving of my memories,” you continue, still trying to convey sincerity and honesty with the eye contact that you’re maintaining with Jeno. “That’s why it took me four months to finish ‘The Princess and the Pea’,” you conclude, smiling proudly. At least you got to the end of the book, the process doesn’t matter.

Jeno is trying to register the information. He’s doubtful, but he’s still trying to process it. He’s heard of eidetic memory, but never memory so distinct, that you’d remember every detail of your life.

“What’s so significant about May 28, 2012?” is what Jeno chooses to pursue, of the many piling questions that has accumulated within seconds of your revelation. That’s when he sees how your smile fades, the sparkle in your eyes dimming. His brows knit. You break the eye contact, choosing to fixate on the wooden countertop as you continue to tell your story.

“My foster father passed on that day,” you state, almost so matter-of-factly, that it scares Jeno. How can you be so nonchalant, so detached when you’re talking about the death of a parent figure? He rationalises, waiting for you to elaborate, when he realises that it could’ve been an ill-fated relationship. But, it only scares him more when your smile returns, though the glint in your eyes doesn’t. “It feels like everybody has moved on with life, but I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment. There’s the sound of the rain, but you’re focused on the eye contact. Jeno is looking you in the eyes. He isn’t sure what it is that he’s feeling. It might be pity, it might be sympathy, but it might also just be pure curiosity. How can you say that like it’s a good thing?

“What do you mean?” he probes.

“When a memory plays in my head, I experience the emotions as raw as they were, in that very moment. People told me it’d get better with time. People told me I’d heal with time. But then it became 2017, a good five years since, and I still cried like I had just heard the news. My foster aunt thinks I’m crazy, that I’m hopeless for not being grown up enough to move on. But she doesn’t understand this, nobody does.”

You cried. You were so nonchalant about stating that your foster father had passed, but you cried. Jeno doesn’t understand. Still, Jeno decides against probing. He doesn’t want to poke his nose in places where you might not be comfortable with him being in.

“It’s okay, you can ask,” you urge, giving a nod of encouragement. You’re willing to share, if Jeno’s willing to listen.

“Do you miss him?”

You clasp your hands together. “Do I?” you murmur, audible enough for Jeno to hear. He watches as your lips spread into a smile once more, a smile that he has come to realise, that you use whenever you’re trying to mask how you truly feel. “I don’t, actually,” you say, looking back up to meet Jeno’s eyes. His lips form an ‘O’, as he nods his head, unsure in which direction he should steer the conversation. You chuckle.

“I didn’t like my faux pa.”

“Faux pas? As in mistake?” Jeno clarifies.

“Well, he was notoriously known for his faux pas. But no, faux as in fake, and pa as in papa – my fake father,” you explain. Jeno breaks out into a laughter; your words seem to have lightened the mood. You smile, as you go on to say, “He never liked me either.”

“Why?” Jeno asks. The look of genuine concern in his eyes warms your heart. It propels you to continue.

“I was a replacement child. Just that, I wasn’t good enough in his eyes. Isn’t that what they always say? That blood is thicker than water?”

Jeno’s gaze softens at your sentence. His lips form a small, comforting smile, as he corrects, “Blood is thicker than water, but only if it flows both ways.”

“That… doesn’t really comfort me,” you reply, raising a doubtful brow, letting out a gentle chuckle. Jeno purses his lips, shying away, “I tried.”

“Effort acknowledged,” you say, holding out a thumbs up.

The two of you exchange laughter, so engrossed in the comforting presence of each other, that you didn’t realise the rain had stopped. You look at Jeno once more, finishing up the earl grey tea. “Thank you,” you say, “For this conversation.”

“I still haven’t found out why you need routine,” Jeno says.

“I guess we have the topic for our third conversation,” you reply, sliding off the stool.

“Goodnight, Jeno,” you greet, giving a slight nod of the head.

“Goodnight,” he returns, watching as you exit through the glass doors.

The third conversation comes way earlier than expected. It’s only the following day, but it’s pouring, once again. You look towards the antique clock that you’ve grown to love – it’s 10:55PM. You shift your attention to the empty counter; the blue-haired boy isn’t here today. You wonder why; it’s a Friday night, and he’s only ever absent on Thursday nights.

As usual, when the clock strikes 10:59PM, you’re standing opposite Jeno, the counter the barrier between the two of you. You take a seat on a stool, and Jeno places a mug of strawberry tea in front of you. You smile, “Refreshing,” you say.

Jeno did his research last night. He was still doubtful, but he believes you now.

“I’m ready,” he says, resting his arms on the countertop. He gazes into your eyes, a sign for you to begin your storytelling. Jeno hasn’t told you, but there’s something about the way you talk, and the way you story tell, that pulls him in. He’s mesmerised, to term it simply.

“I guess the information on the internet corroborates with what I told you?” you comment, raising both brows knowingly. Jeno smiles, nodding his head, “You guessed right,” he validates. You tilt your head to the side, looking into his eyes. The two of you share a moment, and you’re sure Jeno felt it too, but you turn away so quickly, he may have also missed it altogether. Taking in a breath, you search for the right words as you continue to dictate your story.

“Routine helps me. When something triggers my memory, or my brain just decides to replay a random memory, I’ll just be reliving the same day that I’m living.” You pause, blinking a few times, “Does that make sense?”

Jeno looks up at the ceiling with his brows furrowed, taking a few seconds to process what you had said, before nodding his head. “Yeah, it does,” he says. “That’s it,” you say, throwing your hands up in a conclusive manner. “What else are you curious about?”

Jeno hums in thought. “Why did you choose to read ‘The Princess and the Pea’?”

“Because it’s supposed to teach you that you shouldn’t jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. I’m trying to understand that,” you share.

“Why?”

“Maybe then I’d understand that there were reasons as to why he behaved the way he did.”

You didn’t need to be specific for Jeno to know who you were referring to. He doesn’t push you any further, though, for he feels that it’s a topic that you’d tell him about yourself, when you’re ready to. Jeno points towards the book that you’re currently reading. “Why ‘Cinderella’?”

You smile. “It’s supposed to teach you to always be kind. I can’t forget, so I have to learn to forgive.”

“Why fairy tales? Won’t anecdotes be more effective?”

“For one, I’d never be able to get through a non-fiction book on the art of forgiveness. And secondly, conversations are killer. They’d replay in my head so much that it’d give me a headache. You’re the first person I’ve held a proper conversation with in the longest time.” Strangely, your declaration makes Jeno feel tingly on the inside. It’s like, you’re indirectly telling him, that he’s special.

Again, the rain has slowed to a drizzle for the night. You get off the stool, hands wrapped around the strap of your bag. “I guess that’s it for tonight,” you say, backing away, towards the glass doors. Before you’re able to end off with a ‘goodnight’, Jeno cuts in, “You forgive to free yourself. Forgiveness allows you to leave everything in the past and move on with your own life.”

You pause. There’s the comfortable silence again, coupled with the comfort you seem to be able to find in Jeno’s eyes. Your smile widens, and for the first time, Jeno isn’t able to identify any sadness in your expression. It’s a pure, genuine smile. He reflects your expression. Although, he doesn’t know how much his words, and his gaze, mean to you.

“Goodnight, Jeno,” you say.

“Goodnight,” he replies.

A few days go by, with only subtle gazes and shy smiles exchanged.

“I’m pretty sure you’re hiding something from me,” Jaemin says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I thought our friendship doesn’t involve secrets,” he sulks further. Jeno rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you not going to tell me?” Jaemin whines, trying to get his friend to concede.

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Jeno insists.

But, the occasional glances that Jeno sneaks at your focused self doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin. Jaemin smirks, a teasing smile forming on his lips as he continues to play along with Jeno’s ‘there’s nothing going on’ narrative.

And then, it’s Thursday again.

Jeno bites down on the inside of his lower lip, picking at his fingers as he continues to rehearse the conversation he has in mind in his head. He glances towards the clock – about a minute left, before you’d walk through the glass doors. Inhaling once more, he continues to mouth the words, a part of him nervous because he doesn’t know what to expect. You’re so unpredictable, your reply can easily go both ways.

That’s when you enter the quaint bookstore, shooting a shy smile at the boy behind the counter. Jeno returns the smile, eyes following you as you head towards the bookshelves. You reach up, pulling out the ‘Cinderella’ book that you’ve been working on for the past month and a half. You’ve gotten to page 8, which is somewhat of an achievement. It’s hard to go through a book that uses the word ‘prince’ so many times. Every time you get to that word, the highlight reel of Jeno’s handsome face begins to play in your mind. You’d term it torturous, but to be able to view such a beautifully sculpted face so vividly in your head every day isn’t exactly what people would deem ‘torturous’.

Arriving in front of the counter, you state your order. “One iced peach tea, please.”

As per routine, you hand Jeno the exact amount of cash, and he proceeds to prepare your drink. You tap your finger against the wooden surface of the countertop, pursing your lips as you wait patiently for your order to be ready.

As per non-routine, Jeno doesn’t immediately hand you your order when it’s ready. Instead, he stands opposite you. You raise a brow, a cue for Jeno to speak his mind.

“This is probably kind of sudden,” he begins, finding your eyes. “Do you want to have dinner? Together?” He gestures between the both of you, a physical demonstration of the word ‘together’. You smile – the offer is sweet, and you’d love to grab dinner with the boy. However, dinner would lead to another, and you can’t risk it. With an apologetic smile, you say, “That’s nice, Jeno, but I don’t want to do dinner. It interrupts my routine.”

Jeno’s prepared for this. Why else would he have spent the entire night searching for conversational tips and rehearsing his answers to the potential statements you might throw at him?

“Can’t you give me a chance?” he says.

“I’d have to live with the hurt forever,” you reply. Yes, you’d very much like to have a taste of what a relationship is like. Yes, you’re tactful enough to be able to pick up on the undeniable chemistry you share with Jeno. Yes, you admit that you harbour good feelings for the boy. But no, there’s no guarantee that things will work out well. And if they don’t, you’d be left all alone once more, to deal with the excruciating aftermath, while everyone else just moves on, leaving the past in the past. You’re not ready for that, and you’ll never be.

“As friends,” he pushes. “A platonic dinner.”

Your mind wishes to reject him, but your heart is eager to accept it. You know that this conversation would never leave your head, and you’d have to live with the regret of saying ‘no’, so that is the only reason why you decide, “Okay. Dinner.”

It’s the brightest smile Jeno has donned yet.

As evening comes, you find yourself following behind Jeno, a look of disapproval on your face.

“My idea of dinner’s a cute little diner,” you say, facial features twitching, “I didn’t know we’d be eating grass.”

Jeno breaks out into a laughter at both your expression and what you said. He had decided to close the bookstore early, claiming that it’d be a nice, cosy dinner. Yet, after a ten-minute drive, you find yourself in the middle of a park, surrounded by nothing but greenery, and probably a bunch of bugs that cannot be seen with the naked eye, and a bunch more that you’d scream at the sight of.

Jeno has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leading the way as he brings you towards an empty spot. You eye him up and down, “Picnics aren’t platonic, Jeno.”

Jeno doesn’t reply, his pretty smile still plastered on his face. He sets his bag down on the pavement, reaching inside. He gestures for you to move closer, so you abide. He pulls out an object, placing it on your palm. You let out a sound at the sudden weight.

“Sandbags?” you question. Jeno pulls out more weights, setting them on the ground beside your feet. Silently, he picks one up, wrapping it around your left ankle. He fastens the strap, securing it. You watch as he adds another weight on top of the one he had just secured. “What are you doing?” you ask.

“You’ll find out,” he says.

Although you aren’t sure what his motives are, you allow Jeno to continue attaching the weights onto your body. He fastens two sandbags on each leg, which means 3 kilograms of extra weight on each leg. With the two remaining sandbags, he fastens them on each of your wrists. In total, there’s an extra 8 kilograms of weight on your body. You frown, eyes never leaving Jeno’s face, waiting for him to provide an explanation of some sort.

Satisfied, Jeno looks into your eyes. “Trust me,” he assures. You nod your head.

You watch as Jeno jogs away from you, coming to a stop about 200 metres away. He turns around to face you, cupping his mouth as he shouts, “Run as fast as you can towards me!”

You’re not sure what Jeno is on about, but you did agree to trusting him. Letting out a sigh, you position your body, getting ready to sprint. Taking in a deep breath, you push yourself forward, forcing your legs to move at maximum speed. Despite the short distance, you’re panting heavily when you arrive beside Jeno.

He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. “How did it feel?”

“How did what feel?” you manage out between pants, hands propped against your hips as you continue to gasp for air. “How did running with weights feel?” he prompts, waiting for your response. “The weights slowed me down, obviously,” you reply, brushing the baby hair away from your face. “I could’ve gone much faster without the weights,” you add on, the competitiveness in you brewing.

“Prove it.” Jeno begins to remove the weights off of your body. With every weight lifted, your body immediately feels lighter.

Gathering the weights in his hands, Jeno jogs back to the original starting point, dumping the weights onto the ground, beside his backpack. He gestures for you to run over, “Come on!” he shouts. Smirking, you jog on the spot to warm yourself up, before sprinting forward, dashing across the 200-metre distance that seems so much shorter than it did before.

Jeno hands you a bottle of water.

“How did that feel?” he asks.

“Good,” you say.

“How did it feel in comparison to when you ran with weights?”

“It was easier, definitely.”

“Like you were freer?”

You look at Jeno, nodding your head. “Yeah,” you agree, taking another gulp of water. Jeno’s smile spreads even wider, “Exactly,” he says. You raise a brow, failing to understand the situation. “Exactly what?” you question. Jeno breathes a breath of relief, “That’s what forgiveness is.”

Jeno notices your expression going blank. He maintains his smile, continuing, “Useless grudges and hate is like these weights that you don’t need. Yes, they train you to become stronger, but at the same time, they slow you down. Forgiving is like removing all of this useless weight, and moving on with your life, so that you can move at whatever pace you’d like.”

“I should forgive to free myself,” you say, recalling Jeno’s exact words from the other night. Once again, a smile of pure sincerity pulls at your lips, and it warms Jeno’s heart to know that his words had an impact on you. “You went through all that just to explain your concept of forgiveness?”

“I’m simply proving myself to be worthy of your time,” Jeno says, bending down to place the weights back into his backpack. You watch him, loving the fact that his smile never leaves his lips. Saying that you’re touched by his actions would be a severe understatement. It’s the first and only time in your life that someone has ever put in so much effort just for you. If only you can find the courage in you to admit to your feelings, to admit that you want to give Jeno a chance too.

You walk forward, bending down next to Jeno. You place a hand over his, gently holding on to his warm hand.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say, conveying your heartfelt sincerity through the eye contact. Somehow, that’s enough for Jeno.

Baby steps, right?

Then, it’s Friday night. It’s 10:58PM, and it’s pouring with thunderstorms.

You look towards the counter – the blue-haired boy is here today. You’ve been hoping that it’d rain again, so that you can have another late-night conversation with Jeno. You wouldn’t mind if it became a part of your routine. Unfortunately, it’s not Thursday today, which means you’d have to share the conversation with a third party.

As usual, you head towards the counter, placing the book on the countertop, sliding it towards Jeno. He smiles at you. Meanwhile, his curious blue-haired friend peeks over at the title. “Cinderella?” he blurts, almost too incredulously. Jeno shoots him a look, and his friend immediately cowers back, a hand over his mouth as though he had said something wrong. You let out a chuckle, “Not a book choice you’d expect out of someone my age, huh?” Jeno glances over at you, before averting his attention back to the elderflower tea he’s brewing. He’s glad you’re able to react well to Jaemin.

Jaemin gives you an embarrassed smile, holding a hand out, “I’m Jaemin.”

You acknowledge, shaking his hand as you tell him your name. You slide into the stool beside him, and he immediately raises both brows in realisation, his lips forming an ‘O’ as he looks at Jeno, who is avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I see what you’ve been hiding,” Jaemin teases, his brows dancing along with his playful smile.

Jeno waves a dismissing hand at his friend, setting the mug of elderflower tea atop a coaster in front of you.

“So the two of you have been having secret date nights while it rains?” Jaemin probes.

You glance up at him, sipping from your mug. “Just meaningful conversation,” you correct. Jeno’s still avoiding his friend by pretending to be busy with cleaning the machines.

“What kind of meaningful conversation?” Jaemin digs further. Jeno shushes his friend from the side, earning a soft laughter from the blue-haired boy. “Okay, I won’t ask,” Jaemin concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. “Why are you reading ‘Cinderella’, though? Are you one of those girls who believes in happily ever afters?”

You’re about to respond, but Jeno butts in. “I thought you wanted to go to the toilet, Na Jaemin.”

“Oh, right!” Jaemin exclaims, almost too dramatically. You can’t help but giggle. “I’ll be right back. You guys have fun,” he says, sending a wink at his friend, before disappearing into the washroom.

“Sorry about that,” Jeno says, placing the cleaning rag down. He leans his weight on his palms that are resting against the surface of his work area, his veins in full view. Jeno is attractive all over – his looks, his body, and above all, his personality. It’s rare to come across guys who are so sincere and sensitive to the feelings of others these days. You consider yourself quite lucky to have discovered this little bookstore, and you consider yourself even luckier to have become acquainted to the owner of this bookstore.

“It’s fine,” you reply, “He’s amusing.”

There’s a short pause, before Jeno says quietly, “You know, people do read fairy tales for the happily ever afters.”

You look at him, a soft smile decorating your features. “Everyone knows there’s no such thing as happily ever after.” The two of you remain still, sharing another moment as you look into each other’s eyes. This time, you don’t avoid it. Somehow, your heart rate begins to increase. You can feel your heart thumping against your chest. From what moment, did Jeno become this attractive to you?

Jeno inches in, his face the closest it has ever been, but still, respectfully distant. “What if I’m your happily ever after?”

You gulp. What if? No one has ever had such an effect on you before. There’s a growing urge for you to just lean forward, to just attach your lips onto his. But you know well enough that you shouldn’t, because, “What if you’re not?”

“You haven’t given me a chance to prove it to you,” he says, almost so affirmatively, that you’re wavering on the line of committing to him. You swallow.

“Convince me,” you challenge. You catch the way Jeno’s eyes dart down towards your lips, before he looks back up into your eyes. You know well enough that that’s the sign that he’s going to lean in. Just as he does, you press your fingers to his lips. “With words, Jeno.” He reaches for the wrist of the hand you have held up against his mouth, shifting it to the side as he declares, “You have your ways, and I have mine.” He closes the gap between the two of you.

There’s a burst; an overwhelming wash of feelings that blossoms in your heart. He feels right. He feels like the security that you’ve needed, but you’ve never had. Jeno makes your heart swell in the best way possible.

Jaemin keeps himself hidden, only the tip of his head peeking out as he tries to get a good view of Jeno and you. He smiles proudly, waiting for the right moment to enter, to make sure he doesn’t walk in on anything.

Jeno pulls away, eyes on you. Your lips are slightly parted, eyes searching for a sign from his.

“I’m back!” Jaemin announces, striding towards the two of you. You pick up the mug of elderflower tea, gulping it down, just so that if Jaemin happens to notice your lips, you’d be able to just pass it off as the moisture from the tea. He reclaims the seat beside you, smiling so widely, you’re almost able to see his molars.

“So, tell me, what do you see in Jeno?”

“What?” You look at Jaemin with both brows raised, while he has on the most relaxed, composed expression. “Come on, I’m his best friend. How long more do you guys intend to keep this,” he uses his finger to connect the two of you, “a secret?”

You look towards Jeno, who’s looking at you with an expression of anticipation.

You’ve come to a point where you’re learning to forgive your foster father. That would mean you’d be able to learn to get over heartbreak should the need arises, right?

At the very least, if it’s with Jeno, it’d be worth it, right?

You’re still hesitating, but when you engage in eye contact with Jeno, and you see the genuine affection and sincerity that’s pouring out of his gaze, you subconsciously give a slight nod of the head. Jeno understands you immediately. He breaks out into the brightest, loveliest smile, a light shade of pink painting his cheeks.

Jaemin fails to contain the fatherly smile that spreads across his lips. While he might’ve been mostly irrelevant in this whole situation, a part of him always knew, that he’s Jeno’s personal fairy godfather.

And that might just be the sign that happily ever after has the chance of existing.

#nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #jeno imagines #nct #nct dream #nct jeno #fic #fic: of happily ever afters

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 3 years

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Friendly Encounters- Chapter Six

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Smut, Fluff, Angst

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Graphic Depictions of sex, Mature Language, Angst is Yoongi-centered

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 5k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

Masterlist

⇤Prev | Next⇥

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Yoongi watches, with his dick in his hand as Jimin wrecks you. Over and over again, your blue haired boyfriend pounds into you, as you continuously convulse around his massive girthy dick. He’s feeding you well.

“Jimin...I c-can’t anymore.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m almost there...come on babygirl, don’t give up on me now.” You shut your eyes, panting heavily as your final orgasm hits you in a euphoric wave of pleasure, making your muscles tense and you gasp as his dick twitches inside of you from all your clenching.

“Sorry...Yoongi...couldn’t take you too.” Your older boyfriend shakes his head, kissing your forehead lightly as Jimin recovers, pulling out of your sensitive body slowly.

“Don’t be. Seeing you two enjoy yourselves was reward enough.” Yoongi leaves a tender kiss on his boyfriend’s lips before departing to his room. “Take care of her, alright? And wash up, your mom should be home soon.” Yoongi gives you both a stern talking-to before departing with his clothes in hand.

“You okay?” Jimin asks while wiping you down with a washcloth. You nod, sitting up on the bed as your boyfriend brings you a warm towelette for your face. He had an extra one on hand. “Think you can walk?” You shake your head, limping as he helps you up. “Here, get on my back.” You don’t think much of it, as you both saw each other naked and took your relationship to the next level all in one night.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever. Hah...A hot bath was exactly what I needed.” Jimin smiles at you as you lather your body with soapy bubbles.

“Thanks. You know...you’re pretty cool yourself. Able to take me like a pro. Wow, that was some expert level stuff right the-”

“Shut up.” You splash him with water, laughing as you both have a water fight. After you finish bathing (with a lot of water ending up outside the tub, much to your inconvenience), you just end up cuddling with Jimin in your room. Your more bubbly boyfriend texts your older, introverted partner that he’ll be spending the night with you.

You’re not very surprised when Yoongi replies with the response that he is completely okay with it, since he spent a night with Jimin and left you in the dust. You also understand it, they’ve been together for so long that it probably feels weird to adjust now that a third person is a part of the relationship.

You’ve felt like you’re out of place, like the awkward puzzle piece that has the right shape and fits but it just doesn’t fit quite right. Obviously, you won’t express your concern to the gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend in front of you, because you’re worried about upsetting him.

His reaction is predictable though, since you’ve grown used to the barista by your side. He would probably just kiss you and hold you tight, claiming that if he let you go you would fly away like a butterfly, or maybe he would just tell you all of the things you want to hear and more. You’re already deeply in love with him, might as well just get everything out in the open.

Then there’s Yoongi. Your kind, sweet, gummy-smiling boyfriend. You initially thought he was annoyed with your friendship and closeness to Jimin, but he ended up expressing the opposite, and in the end your bond was strengthened even more. You’re afraid of disappointing him, or even worse, making him cry. You know his “tough guy” act is just that. The real Yoongi is frail but you’ve only caught glimpses of his vulnerable side. From everything you’ve seen so far, you can tell he still hasn’t opened up to you. You’re afraid of jeopardizing your relationship and possibly losing one-or two of your boyfriends in one go.

One wrong move and it can possibly be the end of your dream-like romance. You sigh, falling back into Jimin’s arms with one of your hands covering your eyelids and the other on your hip. Your boyfriend just grabs your hips and helps you settle into a comfortable position on the bed. He spoons you, and you’re mostly grateful as the warmth envelops you and lulls you to sleep relatively quickly.

Morning comes early, your alarm waking you up earlier than you expected. You groan, rolling over and finding your boyfriend still asleep and snoring lightly. Jimin looks cute even when he’s sleeping. You try taking care of your appearance, since you want to at least be remembered for dressing well during your last year of high school, but at the same time you dress for yourself. And your boyfriends. When you go downstairs in your short black miniskirt and denim jacket covering your sky blue tee, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you but most of the time stays quiet. Before you decide to hug him.

When he smells your expensive perfume, he asks, “Going somewhere after school?” You shake your head.

“I was thinking I could head to the café in the evening. I have a lot of busy work. I doubt any of the teachers even know what they’re teaching anymore,” You shake your head, before shuffling through your backpack and then pulling out your phone charger. Finally, after three and a half days of searching you’ve found your old friend! “Ah-ha! I knew I put it in here. Finally, now I can charge my phone during the 3rd period.”

Yoongi watches you scramble around to make breakfast as fast as you can before asking you another question, “Do you want a ride?” Curse your dirty mind for reading that the wrong way!

The car ride is long, and awkward. You and Yoongi had all this pent-up sexual tension possibly from the moment you met, and now that you’ve both seen each other naked, done other nasty things together as a couple and such, the only thing left to do is to fuck.

That’s right, you both just need to let out your feelings, when you’re alone. Like you did with Jimin before Yoongi joined, or rather, watched. You were spending sufficient time alone with each of your boyfriends, but as of late, you need to get down and dirty with Yoongi. As fast as possible, before things get any weirder.

“Thanks.” You say before getting out of the car.

“Hey, um, I know after yesterday things are different but can I please ask you to pretend like it didn’t happen? I was clearly not myself. I’d rather that we do things naturally and let everything happen when they’re supposed to. I apologize if you felt forced to do stuff in any way.”

You almost cry at how gentle he sounds. He talks to you like you’re a princess, literally the kindest man you’ve crossed. Your heart flutters just from hearing him speak, like your eyes have been opened for the first time.

“No, not at all!” You clutch your backpack strap, biting your lips in anxiousness. “I wanted to. I actually hope I can do it with both of you someday. Like actually..the three of us in one bed.” You trail off, realizing what it is that you truly want.

“You okay? You zoned out there for a second.” You nod, smacking yourself internally for spacing out with Yoongi.

“I’ll see you after school, bye.” You share a quick kiss before you run to your first period class.

For some reason, your friends seem busy. No one is eager to talk to you about their lives or even stop for a second to listen to you talk about yours. You understand it, though. Everyone has their own stuff to deal with. You’re sure all the other girls your age are worrying about bigger stuff than boy problems, like possibly being pregnant, or scared that they don’t have enough credits to graduate.

You stay glued to your phone most of the day, as Jimin sends you heart emojis and lengthy passages about how he loves you. He just had to message you during English class, during which your teacher caught you on your phone, and she picked up your phone and when she read your text, it brought her to tears, resulting in her asking you if she could read it out loud to the class.

You insisted it was from your boyfriend and how it was for your eyes only, but she said it demonstrated how simple sentences work well in writing when used correctly and that his use of grammar and vocabulary was that of a college graduate, or at least a professional writer.

She read it aloud, with emotion, and feeling. It made your heart swell up in joy, as you heard his voice through hers. The message behind his words.

“Oh, how you make my heart ache, and in the end it only longs for you. How could a person affect me so much? Come home and hold me, my love, I promise you won’t want to leave,” She finishes reading the long text and after you get your phone back, you bury it deep inside your backpack.

My teacher calls you to her desk after class, and she tells you to cherish your boy with your whole heart, as it’s evident enough that no couple would be crazy enough to send love poems to each other unless they were truly fond of the other. There was no way you wouldn’t treasure him; You already loved him. And Yoongi. You love them both.

༻• Later That Day •༺

“Tell me what’s happening in front of my eyes isn’t really happening right now.” You huff at your blue-haired prince.

“Oh no, you’ve got it right. He’s really doing it.” He drinks his sweet tea with more vigour, sucking the straw harshly.

“This is pathetic. What does he think he can accomplish by upsetting his partners?” Jimin shrugs at your rhetorical question. Honestly, if you had a whip right now, you wouldn’t mind using it on Yoongi.

He actually has the balls to flirt with a regular female customer, a girl you actually caught making goo-goo eyes at him and trying to get his number every time she orders something. He’s not even shrugging her off anymore, but instead encouraging it. Jimin slams his hands down on the table, as he wipes a spot near you, glaring daggers at his boyfriend.

“Okay, I think I really wanna punish him now.” You were joking before, but the flirting has gotten out of hand as of late. He’s been doing this for two weeks already.

“Good, as it should be. Training continues in your room at 6:00 sharp. Be there and be ready, there’s a lot we have to cover before you dip your toe in the dom puddle.” You raise an eyebrow at his terminology. You knew what a dom was, but didn’t think he was serious. There’s no way that you’d actually take control in the bedroom, right?

Images of Jimin naked and whining beneath you flash in your mind, as you imagine all the different ways you could make him a mess. You’ve heard what Yoongi does to him, but imagining what you could do-that could go anywhere.

“Why do we have to wait?” You find yourself growing bolder as you lean forward, innocently sucking the metal straw that Jimin provided to you earlier when you ordered the mango smoothie.

“What are you suggesting, kitten?” You laugh at his nickname, before narrowing your eyes at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.

“Bathroom.” You continue sucking the straw, innocently sipping your drink before getting up and walking to the restroom.

After 5 minutes of waiting, you hear the door open, and heavy footsteps. They were much too heavy to be a woman, for sure.

“Baby!” He hisses right outside of your stall, signaling you to grab him and pull him in.

“I checked. It’s empty. No one can disturb us anyways, not unless they see two pairs of feet underneath.”

“Oh, I have an easy solution to that,” He folds his arms across his chest. “Kneel,” You listen to him, happy to follow his orders like a mindless kitten. “Go ahead, suck.” He has his phone in one hand, recording you as you take him into your mouth.

“Remember who’s boss, baby? You said I’d learn how to be a dom.” He groans lightly as you suck his length, slightly squeezing his testes as well with your free hands.

“Alright. Show me what you’ve got.” His eyes are clouded with lust as he watches you swallow his precum, but you do eventually get you fill, instead opting to let his semen spill to the floor.

“Should I just prep you right here? Finger that beautiful asshole so that Yoongi can fuck you later?” Jimin groans at the thought, and you do too, imagining how his cock would bounce in your face as your older boyfriend fucked him carnally. “Ohhh, look at you taking my fingers. So, so, pretty Jiminie. Hear that? This is what good dick sounds like.” Your panties are drenched, you’re leaking through. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were on your period.

“F-fuck me good Y/N.” You smirk, pinching his scrotum, making him shriek in urgency.

“Sorry, bad boys don’t get to cum.” You continue rubbing his shaft, a sloshing sound resounding through the bathroom walls as you give him a moist handjob. He tries his best to stay quiet, with a few whimpers escaping his lips.

“Please, Y/N. I need to cum, please I can’t hold in!” He whines wantonly as you continue pumping his dick, letting his erection peak to the highest point before rubbing him out during his climax. He gets so loud that he has to cover his own mouth with his small hands.

You go on for several minutes after that, or what feels like an eternity, laughing maniacally as Jimin squirts and cums for you. You just did that! You made him feel so good he came.

After you let his cum spill to the floor, you stand up, tucking his dick back into his pants before licking your fingers clean of the savory juices Jimin left behind.

You both wash your hands in the sink and leave the bathroom in turns, so it won’t raise any suspicion.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Jimin gives you a quick peck on the cheek before running off to the counter to grab another order.

“So, I’m guessing you guys spent his entire break together?” Jin asks, wiping your table for the hundredth time again.

“Yes, Jin. We were just talking about the birds.” Jin glares at you, obviously not believing your lie.

“And the bees, I assume?” You clap your hands together, laughing as you sip your mango juice. “It’s no laughing matter for a girl your age. You’re already with two men who are closer to my age than your age. And I’m 27!” You roll your eyes, ignoring him as you get your daily lecture again.

“Jin, you know Jimin and Yoongi are only like 3 or 4 years older than me. And I’m already more mature than lots of girls my age. You can also save the bedroom talk, I know my limits and what I’m comfortable with. I know it’s not the most conventional agreement, but I feel safe with both of them. They treat me like a princess even though I don’t deserve it.” You tell him with a small smile on your face.

“Hm, you really love them, don’t you?” You nod, humming as Jin walks away. “While you’re here, why don’t you help out with these boxes? Just move them to the alleyway. They’re all rotten fruit.” You cringe at that, as Jin hands you a stack of two huge boxes.

“Alright. But if I get mugged I’ll sue you.” You get around to the alleyway, surprised to see that there’s no one there and you actually had a moment of peace without incident.

You weren’t expecting anything anyways, as you know this town is very safe and there’s not much criminal activity happening in this neck of the woods. You were too focused on everything going on in your mind, so in case there was an actual threat, you wouldn’t be too phased.

“Done, now when do I get paid?” You dust your hands, looking up at your boyfriends’ boss. Jin just gives you his signature smile and blows a kiss at you before turning to his office.

“Look, how about I just let you drink for free? For a month?” You nod, folding your arms as you notice the picture on Jin’s desk, a family photo of Jin with a woman.

“Sounds good, hey who’s this?” You ask, pointing at the frame.

“That was my wife. She passed away three years ago…” You suddenly feel like a jerk.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m gonna get going now, it was nice seeing you again, Jin.” You smile sadly at the man before leaving your boys to wrap up with their work. They’ll be taking a leave for a week anyways, so they’re just trying to make this week count.

You know that’s probably why Yoongi was being so friendly with most of the female customers. You hadn’t seen him flirt with any other men apart from Jimin, but he did talk to a lot of girls. Then again, the girls probably approached him themselves.

You try pushing the thoughts out of your head, as you know your ultimate goal is to have angry sex with Yoongi over the fact that he’d been flirting with other people in front of you and Jimin. You channel the anger through your body, as Jimin later presents himself to you that evening, with thoughts of only awakening the lustful dominant inside of you.

“Here are my prized positions, please take good care of me, kitten.” You shake your head, smirking at him as he gives you his box of toys to use on him.

“Want me to ride you, baby?” You ask him as he groans in pain, his bulge painfully tightening in his pants. You can see the area around his pants, the tiny wet spot around his tip.

“I’d love that, kitten,” You shed your clothes, before working on Jimin’s pants first. After the pants come off, you work on his shirt. Both articles of clothing go flying to the ground before the final layer, which is his boxers. The precum stringing from the head of his cock glisten as you gather a good portion of it onto your fingers before slathering it on your stomach. You lick the remaining juices from your fingers before placing both of your legs on either side of him. Jimin is excited. His dick seems to inflate a little as you sit down on him. “Look at you, being ruined by my cock. You aren’t gonna let it control you today, are you kitten?” You shake your head, panting slightly as you struggle to focus on what you were doing.

“I own this cock, got it? This cock is mine!” You finally start moving, making Jimin groan beneath you as he appreciates how much your boobs bounce in his face and how he can see everything as you move on top of him.

“Oh gosh, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp before quickly climbing off him and you resorted to using your mouth to finish the job.

“Um, why did you just stop when you were close?” Jimin asks. You gesture to his unprotected penis.

“You weren’t wearing a condom. I couldn’t let you cum in me and risk getting preggers. I watched Glee, I know all of the downsides.” Your boyfriend just huffs impatiently.

“I could’ve pulled out, but it seems that now I came once but you haven’t cum at all.”

“Jim, who’s in charge?” Your boyfriend is taken aback by the new name you gave him. He just sighs before turning his head to you and looking at you directly in the eyes.

“You are.”

“Great, glad we’re on the same page. Get on your stomach, babe. I wanna peg you.”

“What?!” Jimin’s eyes widen as you grab the lube from your desk drawer.

“Do you not want to do it tonight? I need to practice so Yoongi can-wait, are you telling me that you’re a top?” He blushes before running his hands through his pretty blue hair.

“We’re switches. Although, when we’re alone, hyung is more dominant in nature.” You gasp in awe as Jimin reveals this new information to you.

“That’s great, we’ll make him beg by the end of next week, I’m sure of it. But Jim, I do have a plan for how we go about it…” You quietly adjust the straps of your harness before slathering the dildo with lube. This is softer, so the texture feels like skin.

“Oh gosh, Y/N!” You hum as Jimin makes all kinds of cute noises, mostly from suffocation and feeling smothered. You take a break in between because Jimin declares it ‘too much,’ and after getting a drink of water you presume to prep him gently, so you don’t tear him apart.

Before you know it, just from the stimulation of your fingers on the base of his cock and the fingers in his hole, your man is coming undone, moaning, whining, cursing, begging-all of those things while you pump him with your right hand, as fast as possible. Seeing Jimin come on his stomach was the hottest thing you’ve seen in a long time. You really needed to see that.

“Kitten, wanna cum with me? You made me cum so many times already…” You nod, your face red from excitement. The lewd thoughts just make it worse.

“Jiminie, can we...69?” You ask shyly, but your boyfriend is more than happy to oblige.

“Sure, baby.”

༻• Night •༺

Yoongi gets home late only because Jin had some trouble with the cash register. He wasn’t feeling well as of late, but there was no explanation for his unexplained sadness. He had everything he needed in life, along with two amazing partners. So why was he feeling this way? He knows it’s normal for people to feel down sometimes.

It’s hard for people to be happy all the time, especially when there’s a lot of stress in the environment. Now Yoongi has to prepare to deal with the “break-up” since you and Jimin will share the honor of being in an arranged marriage. Well, it’s more like a trick love-marriage. If your father catches you in bed with the wrong man, there’s no telling what he could do from there.

Yoongi just needs you and Jimin to get married to save you both. Jimin gets to reconnect with his parents who cast their son out because he got a boyfriend, and you would be free from awkward marriage dinners with strangers. Oh, and your father would leave you alone because he’d consider you as “Jimin’s property.”

He knows the type of person he is. He’s dealt with the same type of parents many times over. His family wasn’t even willing to accept him even though he told them he wasn’t completely gay but didn’t agree to being labeled “straight” either.

Now look at you all, everyone is happy together and that’s the way Yoongi wants it to be. Even if he has to be in the background. For your happiness, he would do anything. For you and Jimin.

As he’s about to open the door, a text from your mother catches him off-guard. She was texting that she gets to come home earlier today, so she can spend time with you three and get to know your boyfriends better. Uh-oh, this is bad.

He shuts the door behind him before running upstairs, to look for you and Jimin. Yoongi bursts down the door with force only to find you and Jimin NOT watching iCarly together on Netflix.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” He shields his eyes, turning around so you could cover up a little bit. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but he didn’t want to be a pervert. Even though you’d be fine with him looking. He still wants to ask for consent.

You change quickly, Jimin still panting and recovering from his last orgasm. He almost passed out from how good you were with your tongue.

“You can look, you know?” You and Jimin day in sync. The two of you share a look that Yoongi knew was the type of look reserved for two special people. You’ve already bonded, without him. It’s a good thing, even if it kills Yoongi that he's trying to earn extra money so in case you and Jimin do get caught with the plan, you would have a safety net to catch you when you fall and help you up.

Yoongi didn’t inform you or Jimin of this, but recently, he’s been opting for extra hours just to save up money. He’s also been spending some of that money on new equipment to make his producing process a bit easier, but apart from that, he has a large amount of money in his bank account. At least, it’s big in his eyes. He never had much, but now he finally has a reason to do more with his life.

You and Jimin constantly inspire him to make songs all the time, and without realizing it, you’ve changed him for the better.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But that’s not why I’m here, your mom is coming home, and she wants to spend time with us, since we’re your boyfriends!” Yoongi panics and you find it endearing how the man you once thought to be cold and unkind to now be so comfortable around you that he speaks his mind.

“Thank goodness you walked in when you did, Jimin was about to pass out on top of me.”

“Wait, you bottom for her?” You look back at Jimin to see his reaction. He gawks at his blond boyfriend in shock.

“Yeah, I mean haven’t you seen how she gets when she’s dominant? It’s sexy as hell.” You can’t understand what they’re saying anymore because they are speaking in Korean.

“Oh, I see. Wait until the roles are reversed, I’m sure our kitten will be mewling for you to stop once she feels your lips.” Jimin glances over at you quickly before looking back at his boyfriend.

“Hyung, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve already done plenty alone.” Your prince-like boyfriend combs his hair to one side, making you giggle as you see Yoongi turn bright pink like a piglet.

“I can see that. Kitten, are you up for a date when we go up to the cabin?” You bite your lip, glancing nervously towards Jimin as he gets dressed with his back to you and looking at Yoongi as he waits patiently for your answer. You were planning to spend time with the two of them, but you know that maintaining the individual relationships with your partners are just as important as the group dynamic. You’ve also been naturally closer with Jimin, as he was your best friend first.

Yoongi deserves a break, and you know that he’s probably noticed that you and Jimin have been spending a lot more time together while he’s been working hard. The vacation is actually for Yoongi, but he doesn’t know that, yet.

“Sure. When do you want to go out?” You ask.

“Hmmm, what about tomorrow? I get off work around 4 tomorrow, so we’ll have a lot of time to spend after that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You both share a small smile before Jimin interrupts the moment with applause.

“Great! While you guys do that, I’ll be out learning choreography. I need to keep up with my peers from the institute.”

“Wait, you went to a dance school?” Jimin gasps at the realization that he never told you about his dance classes during high school.

“Yep, I was at the top of my class,” Jimin quickly changes the subject. “Anyways, enough about me, you guys need to plan for your date!” He quickly runs out into the hallway, in his boxer shorts with the rest of his clothes in hand, as you uncover yourself and give Yoongi a quick peek before scrambling to find some clean clothes that don’t smell like sex.

“Boys, I assume you know what this meeting is about?” Your mom clasps her hands together on her lap as she basically murders your boyfriends with her eyes.

“I know it’s a weird arrangement, but we both really like your daughter.” Yoongi is the first to speak up, and you find it sweet that he can open up to your mother, since he wasn’t the most socially adept back when you first met him. You assume that’s because you changed him, you and Jimin made him crawl out of his shell and explore the world a bit more. This was mostly good but bad at the same time because he was much better at communicating, and instead of scowling at people or giving them a blank stare, he actually smiles a lot more and makes more eye contact.

Maybe that’s just the jealousy talking, but you genuinely feel that it’s better for Yoongi, in the long run.

“I’ve known you guys for six months now, and in judging you personally, I can tell that you both have excellent characters. You will make her happy, and hopefully someday you three can be more serious.”

“Hey mom, I needed to ask you something about that.” Your boyfriends glance at you anxiously as you ask your mom. “When is dad coming home?” You bite your bottom lip as you do when you get nervous.

“Hmmm, he said he would be gone for half a year. He’ll be back by October, why?” You scratch your head.

“Can’t a girl wonder when her daddy’ll come home?” You don’t even bother looking at your boyfriends as you can tell exactly what their expressions are.

Once your mother is done interrogating your partners, Jimin creeps down the hallway and sneaks into your room.

“Where’s Yoongi?” You ask, as he kisses your collarbone.

“Asleep.” You stop him.

“Look, we left him out earlier so I feel kinda bad. I don’t think we should do any more stuff tonight. We can continue tomorrow.” Jimin’s a gentleman, so he wouldn’t push your boundaries. He just backs away from you and he flops down on your bed.

“You think I’m good...right?”

“What?” Jimin’s sudden words throw you off guard.

“I’m not bad at sex, am I?”

“Jimin, where did you get that idea? Of course you’re amazing in bed, I’m just not in the mood tonight. Besides, my mom’s home.” You sit down next to him, stroking his right arm.

“Thanks. Sometimes I feel like I need validation. My confidence isn’t all what I chalked it up to be.” You just let out a long sigh. You can relate to him, in what happened with Jungkook and Jasmine. Your friendship actually made you lose trust in those closest to you. You were partially afraid of opening up to Jimin in the beginning too, but after you cried it out with him, you felt even closer to him than the people you knew practically your entire life.

Jimin is just easy to get along with, and you know that’s partially the reason why you were able to open up to him so quickly. Considering, yes you were only about three months into your romantic relationship, you needed someone to latch onto. Jimin was still the best friend you ever had, and you learned quickly that this was what a healthy friendship was like.

Unlike Jungkook and Jasmine, Jimin would listen to you, and he’d give you advice about your problems. In turn, you listened to him, just as you had with your past friends. There was something different from the other interactions you had, because it was a take and give type situation.

You weren��t just taking, though. You were applying yourself, and improving who you were as a person. This is what a friendship should be like. Even though you’re dating, it feels comfortable and familiar. You’ve learned not to depend on people as much, only when you need to. Unlike anything you’ve seen in the past, the dynamics of Jimin and Yoongi’s relationship is so free, they don’t pester the other to tell them everything.

Secrets are important in a relationship; That’s another thing you’ve picked up. Obviously you aren’t going to lie, but you feel like you have a safety net.

“Sorry. It’s just hard to always live up to society’s expectations of me.” Everything clicks for you with Jimin’s words. You quickly stand up, blood rushing to your head as you do, making you fall back just as fast. Jimin catches you, luckily, and lowers you down onto the mattress.

“We’re not getting married.” You put your foot down, catching your boyfriend off guard.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You simply stare up at your boyfriend, eyes filled with hope.

#jimin x reader #yoongi x reader #yoonmin x reader #yoongi x jimin x reader #Poly BTS #Poly #bts imagine #coffee shop #throuple #jimin x yoongi #cafeau #Smut

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 20)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, angst

------

Something roused Daphne from her sleep the next morning but she wasn't sure what. Her head felt like it was imploding in on itself and she winced when she opened her eyes. She was vaguely aware of a heavy weight over her middle as she lay on her side facing the wall. As her senses tried to gain their equilibrium, her ears picked up on frantic banging at her door. She heard a pained groan at the noise that was attached to the arm around her.

"Daphne! Open the damn door!" It was Foggy and he sounded like he was having a meltdown. She slipped out from the arm, swiping some panties from her drawer and putting them on quickly. The banging was making her head hurt like a bitch and Foggy's panic had her putting on the t-shirt she’d previously stolen from Matt since it was big on her and long enough to cover her ass. She padded over to the door, grimacing at how the noise got louder.

She swung the door open and Foggy almost knocked her off her feet as he rushed inside.

"Matt’s missing. He didn't go home last night and he didn't turn up for work. I can't get a hold of him! He- he could be bleeding out in an alley or something! We need to find him!" He panicked with wild eyes. Her brain felt like it was working through molasses and she blinked at him with bleary eyes.

"Didn't you hear me?! He could be dying!" He screeched.

"I'm fine," Foggy whipped his head over to the bed, confusion and shock on his face for a moment as his eyes landed on Matt. He was sat up now, sheets pooling around his waist as he rubbed his tired eyes. His hair was sticking up in every direction.

"W-what? Oh! Well I guess you two made up then," Foggy quipped, sounding much calmer than moments before.

"It's too early for this shit," Daphne grumbled tiredly, pushing past him to get to the kitchen. She got started on making a pot of coffee. Her eyes seemed to be in a permanent squint at the light that felt like razors to her brain.

"Not that I'm gonna complain about you two fixing things, but you couldn't have let me know? A phone call? Anything?" Foggy grouched at Matt who sighed in response.

"I was a little busy," Matt said dryly. Foggy nodded, cheeks a little pink as he glanced from Matt to Daphne and the tequila bottle on the coffee table before landing back on Matt again.

"Can I get some privacy?" Matt asked wryly, gesturing to his naked body. Foggy scoffed and threw the backpack he was carrying at him. Naturally, Matt caught it no problem.

"Clothes?" Matt questioned softly. Daphne glanced over at him briefly before grabbing two cups out of the cupboard. Her brain still wasn't functioning yet.

"Yeah well… I wasn't sure if I'd find you bleeding out or something and I figured it's a little less weird to take you to the hospital in normal people clothes," Foggy replied as he turned his back so he wasn't watching. He still sounded a little salty over the whole thing.

"Well I was fine," Matt muttered, standing up and getting his clothes on. Daphne may have peeked at him. It seemed like Foggy had picked black sweats and a t-shirt for him to wear.

"Alright, I get it. But this is… this is nice. Like old times right? You two having some crazy make up sex," Foggy started. Daphne shot him a glare as she poured out two cups of coffee.

"I swear, if you make this weirder than it needs to be, I will stab you in the face," she threatened, narrowed eyes and a scratchy voice. Matt chuckled as he waltzed into the kitchen and Foggy looked offended.

"Wow. Note to self, Daphne is mean with a hangover," he huffed.

"She's mean all the time," Matt quipped without missing a beat. She squinted at him, handing him a cup of coffee for him to sort out with sugar and creamer or whatever he wanted in it. Her hospitality ended at making the coffee and pouring it. He took it with a grateful nod and small smile.

She flung three sugars into her own coffee and a generous amount of creamer.

"I don't get a coffee? Now I'm just hurt," Foggy muttered in contempt.

"Are you hungover?" She asked with a quirked brow.

"A little!" He pouted. She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile on her face at his antics. Grabbing a cup, she poured him a cup and gave it to him. She walked over to sit on the sofa as the boys sorted their coffees out. Before long, Foggy flopped into the armchair and Matt sat next to her on the couch.

"Sooo…" Foggy started, finger tapping on the mug he was holding.

"Foggy," Matt warned carefully, glancing in his direction.

"What? You really expect me to not want to talk about it? It's me," Foggy snorted.

"We had sex. It was great. Story time over," Daphne muttered, blowing on her coffee to try and cool it down faster. She really didn't want to have this conversation. It would have been weird waking up with Matt in her bed and dealing with that but of course Foggy had to come over to just sprinkle more awkwardness into the mix.

"You hear that, Matt? It was great," Foggy grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Matt smirked, trying to hide it as he took a small sip of his coffee.

"I can share with the group what Karen says sex with you is like if you want?" Daphne asked with a devilish grin. Foggy's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, mouth opening and shutting. Matt laughed, glancing to his side at her.

"I'm actually curious what she says," he probed, continuing their teasing.

"No! No, no, no! We don't need to go there! I'll shut up, I promise," Foggy squeaked. Daphne smirked triumphantly and slurped some of her coffee. Karen hadn’t even spoken to her about sex with Foggy, she hadn't even been sure it had happened until now.

They drank their coffees with some comfortable silence. There was only a twinge of awkwardness in the air. Matt and Foggy ended up talking about a case they were currently working on as she nursed her hangover with a coffee. Once the cups were empty, she was mildly surprised when Matt stood, gathering the cups and moving over the sink to wash them. Her green eyes scanned her apartment and she pouted at herself. She’d made such a mess the night before in her drunken state and she hated it.

"Alright, as much as I'd love to spend time with you two assholes, I need to clean this place before I rip my hair out," she muttered as she stood up.

"You did make quite a mess," Foggy grinned teasingly. She flipped him off and leaned against the kitchen counter as he stood. Matt used the backpack to store his suit and mask, only just making it fit. She was hopeful that they'd leave without incident but she almost forgot Foggy was Foggy.

"You know what, we should go on another double date. Karen would love it," Foggy mused as he and Matt walked to the door. She blinked at him unimpressed as Matt thwacked him across the head.

"Stop," Matt huffed, shoving him closer to the door. Foggy grumbled under his breath as he opened it.

"I'm not sure I wanna be Captain of this ship anymore if you both bully me like this," he grouched.

"Out!" She said firmly, pointing to the door. Foggy smirked, holding his hands up in surrender as he slipped out the door. Matt glanced her way as she padded over. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but settled on just nodding. She was grateful. She wasn't sure what he would have said.

She watched as Matt took Foggy's arm in case anyone saw him and she shut the door as they walked down the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set to work cleaning up the place. A tidy apartment and a few cups of coffee later, she found herself soaking in the bath and relaxing. She didn't have anything to do that day so she took the time for some TLC. She couldn't do anything with the Grimes case until the ball later that week and there was no new news on the Italians from Brett. There wasn't even any progress with the Keiran situation because his mouth was still wired shut and he wasn't in great condition. It was a rare moment of calm for her.

As she relaxed in the tub, her hangover started to wane and she found her thoughts straying to the night before no matter how hard she tried to fight it. It had been wildly different to her previous times with the vigilante. Usually they skipped foreplay, just getting right to the rough and dirty stuff and that was that. They'd got what they wanted. But the night before was a whole world away from that with all the intimate touching and how they took their time. She couldn't remember everything but she kept getting bits and pieces of it as it clicked together like a jigsaw puzzle. She remembered how excited she was to see him, how she told him she'd missed him. She remembered how her stomach fluttered when he used his fingers to ‘see’ her face properly. She remembered how it was the best sex she'd ever had. But it was all so intimate. She hated herself for it. Never had she been that way with someone before but she'd been drunk and so had he. She’d let her guard down fully with him. She was annoyed at herself for not letting him leave when she should have.

She didn't so much regret it, since there was no way she could regret the way he made her body feel. But she felt weird about the vulnerability of it all. How it made her feel. She was just glad he didn't make a big deal out of it like last time. She’d told herself she wouldn't fuck him again, no matter how good it was, because it seemed to make things messier. But her plan had failed and now she just had to hope they would move past it. Yet she still found her mind drifting to the way he touched her, like she was made of gold, and it made her stomach feel weird.

---

The week seemed to fly by and although Foggy came to see her most days with coffee and food, she hadn't seen or heard from Matt. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. It was only two days away from the ball now and Mrs Grimes had called her to tell her that she was on the guest list. She also sounded very disappointed she didn't have a plus one but thankfully didn't press it. Now she knew the plan was definitely on, she needed to go and get a dress. That's what led her to walking to the firm. She needed Karen. Karen knew about the ball and she needed a woman's eye. Foggy had slipped up once when he came to see her and told her he'd told Karen about the plan. After getting an earful from Daphne, he replied with how she specifically said not to tell Matt, which he hadn't, so he didn't do anything wrong. She couldn't argue with that logic and she didn't really blame him for telling her. It made it easier for her anyway since now she needed Karen's help to pick a dress.

She hadn't called her to ask, she figured she'd just go find her. She was dreading going shopping, it wasn't something she ever enjoyed. And this was in an upper-class part of New York and she knew she didn't belong there. When she got to the firm, she could hear raised voices coming from inside. She lingered at the closed door, her curiosity burning and stopping her from making herself known.

"We need to tell her, Matt!" Foggy yelled. She didn't think she'd ever heard Foggy be genuinely angry before and she raised her brows a little.

"No! Telling her is only going to put a target on her back!" Matt retorted hotly.

"She has a target on her back either way, and I can’t keep lying to her! She's my girlfriend now, Matt. It's not fair!"

"It's not your secret to tell!"

"No, just one you're forcing me to keep!"

It was painful listening to them argue if she was honest. Like being a little kid and hearing your mom and dad fighting about getting a divorce. She didn't like it. She opened the door and the pair turned to her in surprise from where they stood in the waiting area of the firm. She guessed Matt hadn't known she was there in the heat of the moment.

"Pro tip, you won't need to worry about it if you keep yelling like that. I could hear everything and it could have been just as easily Karen at the door," she said blandly, giving them a stern look like she was telling off children.

She closed the door behind her and walked into the room with a sigh.

"Tell him, Daphne. He needs to tell Karen the truth," Foggy pleaded.

"I think Daphne would agree with me on this," Matt bit out.

"Hey! Whoa! I'm not getting in the middle of this," she muttered with her hands raised. They started arguing again and she couldn't even make out what was being said in all the noise.

"Shut up!" She bellowed. Deathly silence took over the room as they both looked her way.

"Sit the fuck down. Both of you," she ordered hotly. She expected them to argue as they went back to glaring at each other for a moment, or as much of a glare a blind man could give, but then they reluctantly sat down.

She stomped over to the desk, turning around and perching herself on the edge of it.

"What exactly do you think will happen when Karen finds out the truth, Foggy? You think she's just gonna be like 'okay' and move on? She's gonna be pissed. She's not gonna see it as you guys trying to keep her safe. All she's gonna feel is the betrayal of the lies. There's a big chance she won't talk to you both for a while. She believes in Daredevil, she'll come around once it wears off. But that initial sting is gonna cause some shit, so I hope you're ready for that," she explained seriously. He looked torn up and glanced at his hands in his lap at her words.

She turned to Matt then who was sitting with his mouth set in a grim line.

"I get why you kept it from her, and eventually she will too. But the longer you keep this from her the worse it'll be. I know it's not something to take lightly. Once you tell her, you can't go back. But there's gonna be a line you cross where she won't be so understanding about lying if you keep it from her for too long. And it would be better if she hears it from you instead of finding it out some other way," she muttered.

"That didn't help at all. You're saying if we tell her she'll be pissed but that we should tell her?" Foggy frowned.

"I'm saying you both need to grow up and deal with this like adults. Talk it out and work a compromise. Karen deserves to know the truth but you need to do it right and make sure Matt's ready for it," she glared.

"Matt's never gonna be ready for it! I'm not just gonna sit here and keep this secret, I didn't sign up for this! And I'm not gonna sit here and take advice from an emotional mess like you!" Foggy yelled at her. She felt a punch to the gut at his words, genuinely shocked by his hostility towards her.

"Hey! Don't talk to her like that," Matt warned, his jaw tense.

"Oh right. I forgot it's only okay if you do it," Foggy sneered cruelly at him. Matt stood up looking ready to take a swing at him. Daphne felt her anger go from simmering to boiling and she slipped off the desk and stepped closer to Foggy.

"You know what, Foggy? Fuck you. I get you wanna tell her, that you don't like lying, but it's not black and white here. And you did sign up for this. You told me about what happened when you found out the truth yourself. You chose to come back, to be the best friend again. You chose to stick around, so you don't get to sit there and throw it back in his face when you feel like it! You don't forgive someone just to dangle it over their head later! That’s called being a shitty fucking friend! You're either in or you're out with this, there is no in between! So maybe you should pick a damn side and get your head out of your ass instead of blaming Matt when you chose to be here!" She roared. Foggy looked genuinely taken aback by her ferocity but she didn't stick around to hear him be an asshole.

She pushed passed him roughly, storming out and slamming the door behind her so hard she heard it rattle. She was fuming as she stalked down the street. She wasn't exactly Matt's biggest fan and she loved Foggy, she really did. But she wasn't going to sugar coat shit with him when he was playing victim. Foggy had decided to stick around and it rubbed her the wrong way how he was acting with this. Like he couldn't grasp how much of a life changing big deal it was for his best friend. She told him how it was and it was up to him to decide what to do with her words. She honestly expected better from her friend. He’d really hurt her with his words and she wouldn't have expected that from him of all people. It was uncalled for.

After wandering the streets to calm down, she got out her phone to call Karen. She hadn't been around and she hadn't gotten the chance to ask where to find her. And as awkward as it might be after the argument she'd just had, she still liked Karen and needed her help. Mrs Grimes had told her the dresses might need some alterations so she didn't have time to waste since the ball was two days away. After a few rings, she picked up.

"Daphne, hey!" It sounded like she smiled down the phone.

"Hey! Are you busy?" She asked, shaking the shitshow she'd just been involved in away from her. She didn't have time for their drama.

"I was just dropping something off at the Bulletin and then heading back to the firm," she explained.

"Could I steal you for a bit? I need help with the whole ball gown debacle and I could really use your advice," she asked hesitantly.

"Sure! It sounds like fun. I'm almost done here if you wanna meet me?" It didn't sound like fun but she didn't correct her.

"Alright, I'll be there soon," she hung up after and made her way to the Bulletin.

Before long, the pair were standing outside of La Grande Vie and Daphne was filled with dread. The people milling around inside the store were all well dressed and although Karen somewhat blended in with her formal wear, Daphne stuck out like a sore thumb in her boots, jeans, plain tee and hoodie. Her purple hair in a messy high pony. She blinked up at the sign for a moment, wondering if it was too late to just tuck tail and run.

"Fuck. I feel like I'm in Pretty Woman or something," she grumbled miserably.

"Something you're not telling me?" Karen smirked. Daphne snorted and shook her head, biting back a whine as Karen grabbed her hand and all but dragged her in the store.

An older man in a silk, pink patterned shirt came up to greet them with a warm smile.

"Hello, welcome to La Grande Vie, my name is Louis. How can we help today?" He asked with a French accent. He seemed genuinely nice but Daphne didn't miss the curious glances he kept sending her way.

"Uh… Mrs Grimes sent me… for the ball gown?" She phrased it like a question, like she was unsure if she should even be here. His eyes lit up as he clapped, looking overjoyed.

"Of course! Ms Weaver, welcome, welcome! And who is your lovely friend?" He asked with a smile, looking at Karen who blushed slightly.

"I'm Karen. Moral support," she smiled shyly. The man laughed a little, no doubt in understanding. It didn't take a genius to figure out this was Daphne's first rodeo.

"Please follow me, we will select some dresses we think suitable, but you will get to decide which you like most," he said as he ushered them to the back of the store. There were some thick black curtains and he walked through them, the girls in tow, to reveal some kind of private back area. There were plush looking seats and a changing area behind another curtain. It was all so fancy. Louis gestured for Karen to sit which she did but then he stood in front of Daphne, seemingly examining her from head to toe. She felt her cheeks flame red at the scrutiny and Karen shot her a wry smirk.

"I have some dresses in mind to go with your beautiful complexion and fun hair. You are a wild one, yes?" He asked with a knowing grin. Daphne snorted, lowering her head.

"She most definitely is," Karen piped up amused. Louis rushed off acting as if Christmas had come early for him. Daphne moved to sit and wait with Karen. Just as she was about to remark on how out of place she felt, a beautiful woman walked over with a tray, champagne flutes resting atop of it.

"Drink, ladies?" She asked with a polite smile.

"Thank you," Karen said and the pair took one each. Daphne's was gone in seconds.

"Okay! Let's begin!" Louis beamed as he walked back in, clapping his hands. There were a few girls, all as equally beautiful as the last, following him with dresses. She felt like a troll next to them. The ladies ushered her in the very roomy changing area, closing the curtain behind them.

"Are you ready for a fashion show, Ms Karen?" She heard Louis ask from the other side of the curtain.

"I am," Karen giggled in response. Her friend was having far too much fun with this.

Daphne wasn't sure what she hated more. Shopping in general or dresses. But by the time the girls were getting her into her 6th dress, she was ready to give up. All of the dresses had been beautiful but she was under no illusion that any would suit her or that she'd like them. But she didn't have to like them, they just had to be lavish enough for her to blend in at the fancy ass ball. But Karen and Louis seemed to have other ideas and had no issues with telling her no when they didn't think one hit the mark.

One of the girls zipped the dress up for her and she glanced at herself in the mirror. This one she liked the most. It was simple yet at the same time ridiculously pretty. It was a rich black colour, a velvety texture that was soft to touch. It had small off the shoulder sleeves with a v cut out the middle to create a harsh, deep sweetheart neckline. It clung to her body tightly, dipping into her small waist before flaring out dramatically in princess-y style. It was hard to picture the full look though with her hair and make-up done.

The girls helped her into the simple black wedges. She'd been firm on the fact she couldn't walk in normal heels and Louis had picked these for her. The curtain was pulled back in the same dramatic flourish as the last billion times, but instead of Karen and Louis giving her a scrutinising gaze, Karen looked pleasantly shocked, covering her mouth and Louis stood up beaming.

"This is it! This is the dress, is it not?" He glanced at Karen to back him up and she nodded.

"Wow… Daphne, this is just… this is the dress," she murmured in awe. Daphne blushed, shifting on her feet. This day had been weird from start to finish and it wasn't even over yet. It felt weird to be looked at so closely by anyone and the spotlight was firmly on her.

"Alright. I'll take this one then," she smiled with a shrug. She'd been waiting to say that with all of them but she did feel a pang of reassurance at their reactions this time around.

Louis ended up taking measurements from her so he could alter anything needed and said the dress and shoes would be sent to her apartment the next day. After Louis' dramatic but endearing goodbyes, the pair finally left the store and Daphne could finally breathe.

"Glad that's over," she snorted, the pair walking arm in arm. They'd been in there so long that it had started to go dark.

"It wasn't so bad," Karen smiled at her.

"Easy for you to say. You were spectating," she muttered with a playful glare.

"The dress really is something though. You'll be the belle of the ball," she teased, getting an eye roll from Daphne.

They both said their goodbyes with Karen saying she would come over the next day to do her hair for her and help her get ready. Daphne was grateful for the support. They ended up getting in separate cabs to head in their different directions. Daphne's was home. Today had really taken it out of her and she needed to rest up for the impending doom of the ball. Once again, after sleeping with Matt, her nightmares had gone. She knew they'd turn up again eventually but she was enjoying actually being able to sleep while it lasted. Once home, she got ready for bed and snuggled under her blankets with a sigh.

She kept thinking of the fight with Foggy and Matt and it made her feel sad. She hated that they were fighting, it was so weird. They were best friends, Nelson and Murdock. They shouldn't be acting this way with each other. And she couldn't deny that she was hurt with how Foggy acted with her. She said she didn't want to get involved but they'd dragged her into it anyway. All she did was tell the truth and he'd been an asshole to her. Something she expected from his counterpart, not him. Matt hadn't snapped at her, he'd even got mad at Foggy when he was a dick to her. They seemed to have swapped roles and she didn't like it. She had no idea what Foggy would choose to do and it made her nervous for Matt. No one really knew just what the consequences would be of telling Karen and it was a big deal. She didn't know what would happen to their friendship if Foggy went through with it or if he'd even stick around anymore.

She frowned as she lay there. There was a reason why she didn't make friends or connections and this was it. She felt like there was always some drama or something to stress about in her personal life. Yet she couldn't remember what it was like when she was alone and she was sure she wouldn't want to go back. That's why she was so worried. Depending on what Foggy chose to do, her life would become very different and she'd only just gotten used to it how it was now. She fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion with her mind spinning from uncertainty.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

style

pairing: eb!frank x reader

summary: frank realises he’s in love with his sister’s best friend. inspired by taylor swift’s style, a prequel to this.

You've got that long hair slick back, white t-shirt and I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt, and when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style. So it goes, he can't keep his wild eyes on the road, takes me home, lights are off he's taking off his coat

Parties had never been Y/N’s cup of tea, she found them more to be an excuse for people to drink and smoke their worries away rather than deal with their issues. It was more of an escapism, in her mindset, for those which daylight brought too much worry and thus the night darkness and blinding neon lights allowed for a forgetfulness of what awaited outside. As one to try and solve whatever came her way, she absolutely despised them. There were better ways of socialising. However, Clara seemed to be just like her brother when it came to partying as right now, the house that during Christmas looked like every American sitcom’s house looked more like the drug den where the mafia would be hiding out with all the empty solo cups and random people making out on various corners.

Nevertheless, she was here and somehow here sounded better than her cold, mouldy student apartment. With a solo cup in hand, Y/N had taken refuge by the door, looking as people exited and entered the home and taking mental notes about Clara’s behaviour and how to properly tease her once her drunkenness faded away. Still, the real reason why she wasn’t inside freaking out whenever someone did use a coaster was Frank. When she agreed to come to the party, not in the wildest of her wildest thoughts did she think Frank would be around. He lived in the city and, following his mother, would only come out if he was broke or in huge trouble, however, here he was. Well, at least his broken up, terrible car was and considering how much he loved the piece of junk, he was probably around trying to flirt with as many university girls as he could while she was hiding, not wanting to face the events that took place during Christmas.

- Y/N ... - she could hear Clara almost sing out her name as she stumbled onto the porch of her home, tall and probably older man next to her which made alarm bells sound on her mind. The drunk girl must’ve realised that as she quickly explained who was next to her. - Y/N, this is Jack. Jack is a friend of Frank’s and he’s a writer like you. Thought you’d like to chat.

- Pleasure. - he stuck out a hand for her to shake which she did, worried look still settled on her face. Clara, happy with her match making, returned to the inside of the house, probably to down more of the cheap cider she had gotten from the corner shop. - So, what are you majoring on?

- English at Yale.

- Yale, that’s a big one. How is it going so far? One of my mates has started a teaching assistant position there, all I hear are good things from it. - he was nice, maybe too nice. Nice enough that Y/N wondered if he had a weirder darker side he wasn’t showing to her as that would be the only reason someone would decide to be friends with Frank whose occupation was still a big question mark on her head.

- Well, it’s Yale, never changes that much I suppose. - she shrugged, not entirely sure how to keep the conversation interesting.

- Who are you hiding from? - he leaned by her side, a much less used solo cup in his hand with clear liquid which Y/N guessed by the colour and smell was probably vodka. Not her favourite poison. She raised her brow at his question, wondering if she was putting it out in the world that she was constantly trying to escape from that party. - No one wears full black and then hangs by the porch unless they’re trying to hide from someone.

- Maybe I’m in mourning. - she tilted her head slightly up, smirk on her lips as she took the last sip from whatever cheap corner shop strawberry flavoured wine she had been drinking for the past hour. - Besides, July nights have the best night skies.

- I’m afraid I’ll have to agree. - Jack looked upwards to the particularly clear sky. It was one of those weird hot nights which contained only the slightest of warm air coursing through and one of the most stunningly clear skies. Had she been back in her youth, Y/N would have been rushing outside with her telescope to see if she could see any celestial bodies.

Meanwhile Frank was having his own sort of fun. He was never one to say no whenever his sister rarely invited him to a party with her university friends as that normally meant a wide array of less than five dollar spirits, cheap keg beer and people willing to give you a cigarette if asked. It also didn’t hurt that university girls were extremely easy for him to flirt with, however, tonight, he was looking for Y/N. He had even arrived earlier to see if he could catch her helping Clara with the decorations but she was nowhere to be seen and in the past four hours, he hadn’t seen or heard her name. It wasn’t like Clara was much of help, ignoring him whenever he asked for her best friend.

Things were starting to get boring and he wondered if he’d be better off at home either sleeping or having quality alcohol. As he saw yet another couple climb up the stairs to what he hoped wasn’t his childhood bedroom, he decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. Y/N most likely wasn’t at the party, it wasn’t her style, and he was wasting time. Besides, he was a fully grown man and she was a girl in the middle of university, not even mentioning his sister’s confidant. This was probably just his instinct of trying to stick it up to his sister by screwing around with her friends.

Frank threw his cup onto the growing pile in the bin and grabbed his jacket Moving through the crowds of people and ignoring the few girls who tried to stop him by grabbing his hand, he eventually made it to the red entrance door which was slightly open to reveal Jack. Maybe he was up to go to an actual bar, Frank thought to himself. However, what he wasn’t expecting as he stepped closer was to see Y/N in a slip black dress with a drink in hand and a stupid little smile as if Jack was telling her the best of jokes, which he probably wasn’t considering he had no sense of humour. At least not a good one.

- Hey man, you alright? - Jack noticed him as he turned to place the cup on the ground. - Going home already?

- It’s a university party, I’ve had my few share of it. - his eyes lingered on Y/N who suddenly found the tree of their front garden the most exciting and fantastic thing in the whole world. He probably should’ve just ignored it and let it slide but he couldn’t help it. - I see you’ve meet Rory.

- Shut up, Frank. - she rolled her eyes at the nickname he refused to drop. Jack looked utterly confused at the both of them, he was certain Clara had introduced her as Y/N and not Rory. Was he that drunk already? - Frank insists in calling me Rory, I’ve told him to stop.

- You know each other? - he moved his finger between both his friend and Y/N who was trying to find something to look at other than Frank.

- We’re acquaintances. - Y/N quickly replied before Frank had any ideas or any snarky comments, which, let’s be honest, he most likely did. - Spent Christmas together.

- Oh ... - Jack rubbed his neck and, feeling the atmosphere settling between the three of them, decided to go back inside with the excuse of needing a refill which he clearly didn’t. If looks could kill, Y/N’s look as he left would’ve dropped him straight to the ground in less than a second yet sadly they couldn’t and now she was stuck with the last person in the world she wanted to be stuck with.

- Flirting with my friend to get my attention? - he spoke up in that tone of voice that made her want to hit his head against the side of the house. - You could’ve just come and find me.

- Knock it off. - she threw her plastic cup at him, watching as the pink of her drink stained his shirt and took off inside the house to try and find her purse. Why she had stayed in so long she didn’t know but suddenly the moldey, icy apartment sounded like paradise to her.

Y/N entered the storage closet which Clara had conveniently turned into a coat hanger and stared to look for her coat and purse. All she wanted to do was find her coat and her phone so she could call an Uber and evaporate from this party before Frank could find her and make another snarky remark. Sometimes she wondered if he only existed so he could poke fun of her.

As she kept browsing through the endless sea of jackets, between the noise of the crumbling fabrics, she heard the door being shut behind her. Y/N rolled her eyes, expecting it to be Frank trying to play a trick on her but as she turned to face the door she didn’t see Frank. Instead, she saw one of her colleagues with whom she shared Medieval Narratives class with.

- Hi Nate. Looking for your coat?

- I was actually looking for you. Clara said she saw you come in here so I followed you. - he took a step closer to her, turning their once comfortable distance into one that she wasn’t very comfortable with. - You look stunning tonight.

- I know. - she said, taking a step back hoping it’d send a message that she was not keen with such closeness. She grabbed her coat from the hanger and purse quickly and tried to excuse herself but he refused to move. - Nate, I have to go. I have some essays I need to look into and I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.

- C’mon, I’m a nice guy. - he put his hand on her waist thus ending the tiny shred of patience that was still within her. With a might, she kicked him in the leg, making him crutch which gave her enough time to reach for the door, opening it wide and power walking out of it. However, he seemed to not be done with the constant following. - NEXT TIME DON’T DRESS LIKE A WHORE IF YOU DON’T SOMEONE TO APPROACH YOU!

She stopped on her tracks, still facing the door as she wondered if she had heard it correctly. By the sounds of the people surrounding her who had suddenly stopped their chats allowing her to listen to the music playing wide and clear, she had heard it well.

- You’re drunk, Nate. - she turned around to look at him, still keeping her distance and surrounding herself by other party goers who had found her answer not interesting enough to hold their attention.

- And you’re clearly still the same uptight goody two shoes who needs a good fuck to be put in her place. - Y/N rolled her eyes. Just what she fucking needed tonight. As she prepared to find a comeback for that and return to her beloved mission of reaching her home, someone punched him, the strength of the blow itself sending him to the ground. - What the fuck?

- Stay down if you know what’s good for you. - she recognised that voice way too well to know who it was. Her gaze went from Nate who was standing on the ground, clearly following orders, to Frank who had just punched him hard enough to scare him into not going up. God, great. Just what she needed, Frank to get a saviour complex.

Deciding this was too much for her, she returned to her mission of reaching the outside which after a few “are you okay?” from some of her friends who were sober enough to recognise the situation, had been successfully reached. Y/N sat down on the sidewalk by the house, phone in hand as she read that her driver would be in her with an hour. On that specific moment, she agreed with Frank as she let out angry huff.

- Fuck the suburbs. - she mumbled, bringing her knees up to her chin. There was no way this night could get any worse.

- Are you alright? - Y/N looked up to see Frank. Had she not been harassed by someone she probably would need to see again, she would’ve probably found the strength within to tell him to leave her alone. - I can leave if you want me too, Y/N.

- Nice to know you can use my name. - she commented. - You didn’t need to do that, didn’t need your help.

- Yeah, I know but he was asking for it. - he took a seat on the sidewalk, a bit further from her. - I think Clara’s got the rest of the beating handled. God, she’s ruthless when she drinks cider.

- Should’ve seen her during Fresher’s week. She climbed up the roof of our student housing topless and screaming the lyrics of "Wake me Up Before you Go”. - Y/N giggled at the memory of her and her flatmates trying her hardest to remove Clara from the wet roof.

- How come you never tell me the interesting stories? - Frank slightly turned to look at her. He couldn’t see her face completely due to her hair in front of it, but of what he could see, she thought she was the most stunning thing brought to life.

- Well, you never ask me. - she too turned to look at him. - You cannot tell Clara that I told you that.

- Can’t promise anything. - he raised his hands. - How long til your Uber arrives?

- An hour. - she huffed again. - Now I understand why you like the city so much.

- Get up. - he raised from his seating position, lending her a hand so she could do the same. - I’ll take you home.

- Frank, I will not enter the death machine again specially when you’ve been drinking. - her eyes turned to the same car. God, how come someone whose parents were well off decided to get that type of thing and call it a car?

- Cheap alcohol does not affect me besides I want to give you a ride. Just to make sure you’re safe.

- I’m safe enough in an Uber, Frank.

- Consider this, you’re an university student and it’s not gonna be cheap to catch an Uber during a Friday night. Just humour me, you don’t even have to speak with me, I’ll just drive you and drop you off. - he took his keys from his jacket pocket, the little keychain catching the little and she couldn’t help but let out a small smile as she recognised he was still using the keychain she had given him for Christmas. - You pick the music?

- No snarky comments? - she decided to negotiate. - And by snarky comments it includes calling me Rory Gilmore, Gilmore, Rory or any variation of the name. You will make me hate watching Gilmore Girls.

- Fine, deal. - Y/N followed Frank into his death machine also known by common people as a car. He kept his promise, not saying a single word and only turned on the radio which was playing some instrumentals. Throughout most of the journey, both their gazes were set on the road, not entirely sure how to interact to each other. She was the first to break the gaze from the road, turning her head ever to slightly to look at the side of his face. Y/N would never admit it out loud that Frank was an attractive but he was and somehow managed to look even better whenever his face was calm. Lips partially open, eyes slightly narrowed as his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. Her gaze settled on his parted lips, almost as if she could feel them against hers like Last Christmas.

If she were to be completely honest, she had put the event right in the back of her head fully knowing exactly what type of guy he was. She didn’t need to hear it from him, she knew it from accounts from Clara who’d normally complain about how many girlfriends her brother had gone through and how he liked to mess around with her friends to get under her skin. However, she was still a woman with taste and as such she found him wildly handsome.

- Stop staring at me, Y/N. - he pulled over one of Yale’s residencies, not entirely sure where Y/N and Clara lived. - We’re here.

- Thanks. - she put her hands on her lap, diverting her gaze from him. - Uhm, I think I should also thank you for punching Nate.

- I would punch whatever guy disrespected you. - he shrugged, almost as if being her protector came to him naturally. - Even if you flirted with my friend prior.

- I did not flirt with Jack, Frank. Even if I did it was none of your business. - if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve said he was being jealous. - Clara introduced us, if you must know.

- You can tell me you fancy him. I saw you all smiley as if he were a comedian which let me tell you, sweetheart, he definitely isn’t.

- I don’t fancy him. - she harshly opened the door of his car, huffing as she stepped out. Frank did the same but instead of lighting a cigarette, he instead walked to her, arms crossed. - Even if I was interested in Jack, I wouldn’t owe an explanation. You, out of all people who is constantly screwing around.

- Just asking, sweetheart. No need to get worked out over it.

- If it bothers you so much at least admit it, Frank. Don’t sulk about it like a school boy. - she took a step forward, heel clicking against the worn out asphalt of the ground.

- You’re my baby sister’s friend, I couldn’t care less.

- Seems like you’re awfully interested, Frank.

- You wish I was. - he put his hand on his pocket to fish for his cigarette pack along with his lighter. - Is that why you were flirting with Jack?

- You know what ... - she dropped her purse to the ground, hands coming to grab his face as her lips collided with his for the first time since Christmas. The kiss went on for a while, lasting substantially longer than she had intended.

Y/N tested the waters plenty of times by pulling away slowly but, much to her surprise, Frank took a step forward each time with a smirk against his lips as he slowly pushed her against the side of his car. She thought it would last forever or at least until one of them lost breath. That someone proved to be Frank, who pulled away, a very large stretched grin across his wet chapped lips as he stared down at her, her eyes staring right back.

- Hey! - a bright light shined their way, interrupting the moment. She looked in the direction seeing one of the campus security guard with a flashlight in hand. - No funny business on campus grounds.

- Sorry. - she mumbled as the guard went his merry way. Her eyes settled back on Frank. - I should go back to my flat.

- I’ll walk with you.

- No. - she raised her hand. - You can go back, I know the way.

- Y/N ... wait. - he rushed after her. - I know you don’t wanna talk about it but I don’t flirt with you just because you’re my sister’s friend.

- It’s really not the point, Frank. I know the type of man you are and I know exactly how you act. I should probably know better but I don’t and I’m a few cups in of cheap wine so my judgement is clouded.

- Listen, maybe when your judgment isn’t so clouded, we can discuss this.

- Sure, Frank. - she sighed, tired and wanting to go into a hole and scream at herself. What was wrong with her? God, this was worse than when she had a crush on the neighbour’s son. Why would she kiss him? Out of everyone? Was she feeling way too thankful for him being her weird white knight, she did not know, all she knew is that she needed to leave his sight, fast. - Good night.

- Night, Ace.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/N #frank imagine #frank x reader #endings beginnings #eb!frank

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simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Not Me: Chapter 1: Sweet, Sweet Life

Summary: You always wanted the perfect life- great husband, fulfilling job, and overall happiness. What if you can’t have even a bit of your fairytale?

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut, memories (in italics)

Word Count: 2074

A/N: The first ever chapter of Not Me is finally here! Im so excited about this story, and I seriously can’t wait for you all to read it. Let me know what you think so far, and what do you expect from this little story? The ride has only just started, and it will get spicier as we go along, I promise xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sun was shining through the blinds, and you groaned loudly. Another day in your personal nightmare. You tried to snuggle into the pillows harder, willing your sleep to come again and take you for at least another few hours, so that you wouldn’t have to face the world. And by the world, you meant your husband, James.

Just the thought of him made a shiver run down your spine, and not the good kind. You didn’t even know how you got to that position. There used to be times when James was all you could think of.

You were at high school together, buddies, thanks to your fathers owning a publishing company together. You were a freshman, and he was a senior, but that didn’t stop you from spending a lot of time together. You used to piss off your fathers too often for your own good, whenever there was a banquet or some other fancy shit, you and Bucky would always find a way to make it at least a bit enjoyable for the two of you.

You had each other to hold on to, and that was enough. You both went to a different university, Bucky attending Yale, while you went to Brown. It was during this time that you grew apart, having different goals in life, and life choices as well. But your crush was still strong as ever at that time.

James had this ability to draw people to them. You could even pinpoint the exact thing that made him so charming because there were so many of them. His eyes, his deep, gruff voice, his physique, which would get any girl to her knees, or his charm. But you knew he wasn’t interested in you that way.

While you saw Bucky partying every second possible, you were more the studying type. Not that you didn’t have your fair share of wild parties, making you wake up in Canada instead of your home. But you were a passionate reader and student, and so when the crucial times came, you knew how to use your brain. And form what you heard, with Bucky’s party habits, he had to pay somebody to take all his exams. That was the only plausible option in your mind.

You only saw each other during summers, when you both worked for Barnes&Clark, your fathers’ company. And while Bucky was much more interested in all the sexy secretaries, you were impressed by all it entailed to be a businesswoman. You sat with Mr Barnes and your father in their meetings, they even seemed to listen to you while you spoke about your ideas of new ways of getting books to young people.

It was close to your graduation that your life turned completely, and, at the time, you thought for the better.

There was a knock on your door, and you frowned. It was Thursday evening, and you weren’t expecting anyone. What was even weirder that the person was already in the building, without ringing the bell from the front door. You cautiously went and looked through the peep-hole, only to be utterly surprised.

You opened the door, a confused frown on your face.

“Bucky. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked him, stepping aside, to let him inside.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped in and waited for you to take him further inside your apartment. When you led you to the sofa and sat down, you raised your eyebrows, indicating that he really should start explaining what it was he wanted.

“Look, Y/N. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve been thinking, recently, and I reached a decision in which, I hope, you’ll support me.”

You still didn’t say anything, not sure where he was going with it. You haven’t heard from him in months, and so it was peculiar as to why he suddenly came knocking on your door.

Without any other word, he got on his knee and pulled out a white velvet box from his pocket. Your eyes were suddenly the size of a cartoon character, and you were pretty sure they now occupied most of your face.

“W-what? Bucky are you drunk? Or are you fatally ill? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, on the verge of a mental breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, you liked him and sure, you did try to write Y/N Barnes a few too many times before. But you were both young, 24 and 27 years old, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for marriage.

“I prioritise doll. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I know you have been single for far too long, and you’re never comfortable around any other guy than me. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and now I’m ready to settle down. And with whom better than you? We used to be best friends, and I think you never really grow from that kind of bond. Just think about it, will you?”

You were looking in those icy blue eyes, and for a weird reason, you saw the desperation in them and a hint of anger. You couldn’t be too sure, because you haven’t seen him for so long, but he had one thing right. You never really grow out of that bond. You thought he did, but obviously, he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I’ll need some time, and I think we should spend some time together if you want to marry me, don’t you think?”

A flash of something you weren’t able to recognise ran through his face, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and you weren’t really sure what it was.

“Sure, can I stay tonight and we can watch a movie, or something, huh?” He asked, without a hint of a smile, and you enthusiastically nodded. After all, this was something you dreamed of quite often, to be completely honest.

It went like this for a while, you and Bucky spending evenings together, and after one particularly fun evening, full of gin and tonics and tangled sheets, you finally gave him your answer.

“I will marry you Bucky, if it’s still something you want, I think we could be really good together,” you whispered against his naked chest, laying almost on top of him in your bed. He hummed, patted your shoulder and got up from the bed.

You looked at him confused, trying to determine if you said something wrong, but he only pulled the velvet box out of the pants that were laying abandoned on the floor and slipped the massive diamond ring on your finger.

“Good. Now sleep so we can plan the damn thing,” he said in a hushed voice, got dressed, and left you laying on the bed, naked and exhausted from the amazing sex you just had, confused as hell.

And that’s how your marriage pretty much started. Despite Bucky leaving that day, you were pretty excited about the whole ordeal, and so was your and Bucky’s family. The only unexcited party seemed to be Bucky, but you thought it was just his face, nothing serious.

But after a year of marriage, you realised that it probably wasn’t just his face. When he was around his Uni friends or his colleagues, his demeanour changed drastically.

He was joyful and funny, and always the life of the party. But when you two were alone, he was brooding and looked pissed 99% of the time.

You thought you’d have everything you ever wished for. Happy family, amazing husband, and a dream job. But things aren’t always the way we want them.

Your amazing husband rarely ever spoke to you, and when he did, it was to point out a flaw on you.

You shouldn’t talk so loudly. Your language isn’t lady-like. I don’t like it when you wear sweatpants, I think you should look nice even at home. This steak isn’t medium-rare. This make-up is too much. Stand and be pretty. Blah blah blah.

You tried to do all he said, trying to be the best wife for him, because you still had the idea of Bucky loving you, and wanting to spend his life with you. But every sentence like this created a gash in your heart, and by the first anniversary, you thought your heart was just a shredded piece of muscle, unable to function any more.

What broke you down to your knees, was, however, a different kind of message, delivered to you by Bucky and your father.

“James will lead the company, he has most of the rights to Barnes&Clark, and we think it would be great if you were a stay-at-home wife like you were supposed to be from the very beginning. Look, Y/N, you are a woman, and those shouldn’t be heads of the company. You understand that, don’t you?”

You were in total and complete shock. He trained you your whole life, to be the CEO, or at least the head of the publishing, while somebody else would take care of the numbers. But now he was telling you that your dream was vanishing right in front of your eyes.

“But, but, dad, I thought you-“

“How about you stop thinking and just be a pretty thing, sweetie?” Your father asked you mockingly, and to your utter surprise, Bucky laughed as well, patting your father’s shoulder.

You wanted to run away in tears, because every time you tried to speak up, either your father or Bucky would shush you. By the time the meeting ended, your eyes were filled with tears, but you didn’t want either of the men seeing this weak side of yours.

When you left the company’s building with Bucky by your side, you were shaking with both sadness and anger.

“Are you seriously with him on that, Bucky?” You asked, desperation evident in your voice. But the look Bucky gave you made you regret that you even asked him anything.

“Of course, I agree with him. You have to take care of our household, and not be busy with business. Oh, and, by the way, I would prefer it if you called me James, from now on.”

It felt like he pushed a dagger deep inside your guts. He let everyone call him Bucky, he would always say that it just felt better when the people around him called him Bucky. And now he wanted you, his wife, to call him James?

You sighed again and sat up in your bed. Ever since you moved in, you had separate bedrooms, James telling you he needed his rest to run the company. And even if you wanted to protest in the very beginning, you gave up. Like on many things in your life at the moment.

You used to have dreams, you used to be ambitious, but this life took everything from you. You rarely ever had sex with James- he would always tell you how tired he was and that you should be tired as well. And if you weren’t, it meant you weren’t doing enough through the day.

You learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew, how to have the perfect garden, but it still wasn’t impressive enough for James to spare a kind word for you.

And neither did you father. He would always only remind you to be a good wife to James and to leave the rest to the men, and by your first anniversary, you believed all of those things, your self-respect pretty much non-existing.

You got up from the bed and headed towards the closet, to put on something representative to not give James any reason to pester you. You took a quick shower and put on some make-up, knowing full well that James was against the natural beauty look. You put on high-waisted wide pants and a blouse, trying no to look too shabby even if you were only going down to the kitchen to make James a breakfast.

When you came into the kitchen, he was already there, sitting by the table, reading news on his phone. He didn’t even spare you a look, and you sighed, walking towards the kitchen isle. It would be just another day in your hell, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Or, at least, you thought you couldn’t.

/Next Chapter >

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