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#who said you could give me good soul angst & make me sad?? [it was me. i said you could]/pos
sneeb-canons · 5 months
Note
tse wasnt actually that filled with rage the first time around , but as the loops progress he gets angrier and angrier and lets it out in tse , and eventually he starts giving up and then there just . isnt a tse and then he eventually stops participating like at all ( unsure if this needs tags , sorry )
Headcanon #267
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ajortga · 4 months
Text
the forgotten letter
pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader
a/n- ahh guys it's finally here! probably one of the longest word count story i've done with around 6k words, but yes! for the people who voted on my poll, i did both angst and happy ending<3. i hope you enjoy!
thank you for 100 followers, i guess this is a special!
-
You think you loved Tara for as long as you could remember.
Well, years later, you think you loved her ever since you laid eyes on her, if you knew what love meant.
It was like a click, a connection, the kind of love you didn't even know was real out of movies.
But it was, it all was when you met Tara.
You had met her in second grade, well, you could say a year after. How could you forget that every day, you were on the swings, and the only reason was to be able to see Tara eating at the same table with her lunch box without being caught staring. You always looked at the sky when she turned, sometimes you would make eye contact and she'd give you the sweetest smile that made you kick your feet and giggle till you fell asleep with a smile on your face two nights in a row.
You were always a shy soul when it came to making conversations with strangers, especially someone as beautiful as Tara, with her wavy, long hair that seemed to always be perfect. A little messy? You wouldn't dare to say that, one small messy hair is like realizing how it complimented the girl you thought was perfect enough. Her dark brown eyes seemed to have stars in them, you loved stars. 
The first time you made an interaction, it was the same procedure, lunch-time bell rings, your classmates squeal, you all run out, and you make your way to the second swing that was next to the lunch tables. Then you'd wait and wait, till you saw her, then you'd swing, even though you weren't very good, you only got a foot high at most times. 
Usually, when you would swing, your friends would be there, but when you told them about Tara, and how you said, "I think she's very very very pretty." They all laughed, saying "ewwwwww.." They kind of left you by yourself on the swings from then forward.
You were sad, but that didn't stop you from always looking at her. 
Tara noticed, you were staring at your feet, swinging lowly and she felt bad, she didn't like strangers, but she always saw you, it was like you were friends. So she abandoned her lunch box and walked over to you. 
"Hi.. Do you want me to help swing you? My sissy Sam taught me some ways so you could swing higher! I can push you if you want!"
You looked up at her mouth open as they quickly turned into a wide smile, Tara thought it was cute. 
"Yes please! I-I don't know how to swing very high.."
She giggled, shaking her head as she approached closer behind you, where the handles were, "I know, every day you are here and every time, I see you swing and swing! But your friends.. They aren't here. Are they absent?"
You shook your head, a little pout showing, "No.. They.." You didn't know what to say, and as much as you wanted to lie.. You couldn't to this girl that made you smile. "I come here and see you every day, and I always want to talk to you, but I feel weird and not comfy when I try talking to people I don't know very well. My mommy says it's called being shy. I think you are very pretty. My friends don't like when people say that. They say it's yucky. So now I'm a little lonely."
Tara looked surprised, but it quickly turned into a small smile, tilting her head, "You think I'm pretty?"
You nod your head up and down, "I think you are very pretty, I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."
She smiles, happily, "I think you're very pretty too! Wow! I never been called pretty! Thank you! Wow!"
You turn to her and give her a smile you never knew existed, it looked so happy, "Thank you!"
"My name is Tara by the way. Tara Carpenter!"
"I'm Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N! That name fits you.. Tara.. I don't think I'll remember that.." (That was a lie, you memorized it by the time you got home and asked your mom to write it on your notebook..) "I think I'll have to call you a shorter name.. Like.. Cheese!" 
She makes a small grimace, but it looked so cute, "Cheese? You're funny!"
You both giggled as you give her a cheeky grin, "I think we'll be really good friends."
"Me too," She says with a soft voice, pushing you on the swings, higher than  you could ever imagine. You could see the clouds and felt like you could touch them, but most of all, you could see her name in the sky. 
"Tara Carpenter," You whispered to yourself with a squeal as Tara pushed you higher.
- - 
In 6th grade, your parents had a big fight that made your eyes go wide, making you hide under your bed as you clawed at your ears, silently sobbing. Sure they fought and it could be bad, but this one was different, it was worse, screaming, crying, your walls shaking and random things being thrown. You found out that they got divorced.
Then at that night, you grabbed your phone and opened your window with tears in your eyes, going to Tara's house, running as fast as you could move.
You climbed up the ladder that Tara had shown you and crawled to her room on top of the house, knocking quietly on her window, sniffling.
A long moment later, you could see her shadow as she opened it, rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, "Y/N?"
Then, she looked up at your face, the only light was from her lamp and the moonlight, finally seeing your tear stained cheeks and crying eyes.
"You're crying," She says, concern flooding through her features as she pulled you inside and onto her bed. 
She sat next to you as you stared at her stuffed animal.
"Not too much.." You murmur, tears daring to fall down again.
"Why?"
Should you tell her something that has been going on for almost your whole life?..
"My parents fought today.. Oh Tara.. It was terrifying.. There was screaming, crying, I heard so many things being thrown and I tried everything.. It just w-wouldn't stop.. They.. I.. They..." You sniffle, your mouth opening to let out soft cries, she knew what happened, your mom and dad weren't together anymore.
Something in Tara broke, she couldn't see you cry. Seeing you cry made her eyes water, especially someone like you.
She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer, making you sob against her chest, rubbing circles behind your back, something she learned in the past. 
"It's all going to be okay. I'm here. I won't ever leave you."
Your lip trembles, looking up at her, "Do you really promise?"
She can see it in your eyes, fear. You don't want her to leave you. 
"I promise."
You nod against her chest, turning away from her so your back is facing her stomach as she hugs you.
A moment passes before you turn to her again, she could see something swimming underneath those eyes, uncertainty. 
"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."
Tara can feel her heart squeeze as she nods, nuzzling your nose. "I really promise."
You nod, "I trust you. I always trust you." You whisper, sniffling as you hug her, your nose buried against her chest as you cry, cries turning more muffled as she can sense your beginning to fall asleep. You never heard, but as you slept, she kissed your forehead quickly, whispering a small, "Love you."
- -
When Tara was 15, her parents divorced like yours, and both her dad and sister left her. She didn't know what she felt.
She was upset, she cried in her bed for months.. 
But then, she felt angry. Angry at her dad, her sister, at the world. 
It was a turn of events for her and it caused her to shut everyone out. Everyone. 
Including you.
She didn't want to take any anger out on you, she would never be angry you. But she always felt like if she talked to someone she cared deeply about, like you, she would snap.
But she never thought abandoning you would hurt you as much as she thought.
At first, it was when she saw you in the halls, and you saw her, but as soon as she met your eyes, she would turn a corner, seeing your waving hand fall limp to your sides. She felt bad. But it would get easier, and it did.. But she always felt that small feeling of guilt eating at her.
It happened multiple times, but you thought she just couldn't see you.
Then it was in the classes you shared when she wouldn't talk to you. 
You usually would talk to her, but whenever she wouldn't talk to you first, you would think she's busy.
But she never turned to you with a joke, a conversation, not even a glance when you saw.
You sat alone at lunch, you sat alone at dinner too, maybe be greeted with your dad if he was drinking.
No more good morning, goodnight, or any texts from Tara.
You tried approaching her, but every time you'd lock eyes, she'd give you this stare that made your gut twist and walk the other way.
You couldn't help but cry, you felt betrayed, everything was crumbling. You had lost the one person that you cared so so deeply about, the person you desperately wanted to be by your side for the rest of your life.
It was hard to get any sleep, because most of the time, you'd be staring at the ceiling, waiting for a goodnight text that would never come. The goodnight text that let you fall asleep as quickly as you shut your eyes.
And you thought that it was because of you, she didn't want to see you ever again. 
You cried, every single night till you passed out from exhaustion. 
Little did Tara know, that there was a letter on the side of your desk, the fresh ink marking it's words on the paper beginning to see the seasons change, beginning to grow as time went on.
The letter you were going to give Tara confessing your love.
The letter that you spent day and night on. 
The letter that was now untouched for months, left on the side of your desk.
The letter, filled with your words of adoration, never being able to experience a reaction, because you never gave to her.
You felt numb, you didn't know what to feel, but you felt abandoned, it hurt so much, it hurt harder than a piercing knife in the heart.
Tara noticed you began to avoid her, began to finally accept it.
You never truly accepted it, you would say you just lost hope, 3 years had passed so quickly.
In class, when she'd turn to you, you never turned back.
When she would sit at the spot you both sat at, she would see your shadow sitting on the chair, untouched and cold.
Sometimes she'd see you at the park, just sitting on a picnic towel and writing in your journal.
Under the tree you both would always sit,
Never having the guts to approach you.
She would say you seemed peaceful, but you weren't. Because whenever she saw your face, it's like your sweet persona was gone and faded, the vibrant colors you used to have was long gone.
Replaced with eyebags, tired eyes, and hair that was always covered by headphones or a hoodie.
Tara never knew why her leaving you left a big mark on your heart, you two were just friends. Right?
She tried to stop thinking about why, but she couldn't help it, you popped up in her head on nights she couldn't go to bed so easily.
- -
Tara was looking at the stars one night, just staring, the moonlight glistening on her cheeks.
She thought of you. She thought back to second grade, words that were ages ago. She could hear your tiny voice.
"I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."
She then realized she made a huge mistake, why didn't she think of it before?
Her leaving you was like you being abandoned again, she left you in the dark when she said she would never abandon you. But she left just like your parents.. She left just like how her parents did..
She promised that night you had ran to her. She promised that she would never leave you, and you weren't the person who trusted people often. 
But you trusted her. You knew that she wouldn't leave you.
You thought she wouldn't leave you.
She was the first person you thought of when you were afraid, because she was really all you had.
"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."
She remembers those words she said that night, her voice running around her mind, saying the words, "I promise."
She remembers you telling her your parents divorced, she remembers you telling her that when you were with your mom, she was never home, you never had a holiday to spend with your family. Most days alone, and when you met Tara, she always let you come for the holidays.
She was all you had, and you were faithful in what she told you. But she abandoned you, just like everybody in your life had did. She had did something she never wanted to be in the first place. She was so mad that she was left by her family, even when her mom was still with her, that she didn't realize that she did the one thing she wanted so badly not to be.
Abandoned, you were abandoned when she was all you had.
She knew she had to do what was right, she thought distancing herself would work. But it made you worse. She had to fix it.
- -
You were sitting at the park, same place, with your journal, your tote bag in the other, listening to god knows what. 
(You were listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron..)
Tara was going to finally approach you.
Something in her gut told her something was wrong, something was going to be wrong. But she sighed, just brushing it off and thinking that it would be you possibly never forgiving her.
She sat next to you, making your head turn from the small thump next to you.
Your eyes were shocked, mouth agape, whispering the only word she could make up.
"Tara.."
She bit her lip, but instead of smiling at her, you didn't say anything, looking at her with a small scowl and turned your head back to your journal, exhaling an angry huff.
She frowned, looking at you, reaching for your shoulder.
"Look.. Y/N-"
"-Save it Tara." You snapped, making her flinch.
"Y/N, please."
You make a long sigh, turning to her. "Tara I really don't have time for this. You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"
She looked confused but she kept going, "Look I-I'm sorry. For leaving you."
You turned to her again, at this point she could read your gaze, you were angry, you were upset, most of all behind those eyes, you were hurt.
"You can't just leave me for 3 years and come back to apologize thinking I'll forgive you just like that! You're out of my life for so long and come back like nothing has happened."
She exhaled, "Let me just speak! I-I've learned from then and I'm trying to apologize!"
You stopped her, "I don't want you apologizing for this damage that has caused my life to crumble and has already been dealt with.."
She interrupted you, "I know! But I was dealing with so much! M-my parents divorced and I thought letting you go would be best.. Please, I'm trying! Can't we just go back to what we had and forget what has happened?"
You were hurt, tears brimming at your eyes, "You don't understand! Are you forgetting that you left me? YOU left me Tara! And you didn't bother to even tell me or apologize when you left. I was depressed okay? And it was because of you! Every single damn day for three years I was never able to sleep properly because I would think that you would finally text me one night and wish me a goodnight! You were all I had! When my parents divorced I didn't leave you!"
At this point, when your mouth opened, soft cries were being heard, "You were all I had.." You repeat, sniffling, "You promised me you wouldn't leave and that's just what you did."
She felt bad, the walls you put up to get away from her were all falling apart, she saw the little girl that she knew once before. The little girl she saw that night your parents divorced when they both left you. She felt all this guilt that has built up when she ignored you beginning to swarm in her chest, she felt horrible.
"I'm sorry. I don't even know who I was.." She whispered, looking at your shaking figure.
You turned to her, your tears flowing down, like the three years to stop them wasn't enough.
"Tara just s-stop! I-I'm just getting over you after this long and I can't have you here again. N-not today."
She looked at you, aghast, eyes wide, "What?"
You cover your face, hands sliding down to stop, "Yes Tara! I loved you! I fucking loved you and the day I was going to tell you, you left! YOU left me!" You screamed, angry, betrayed, sentence ending with a cry.
She was stunned. You loved her.. You loved Tara. And she thought that when she loved you, pushing you away could make her forget her feelings, making sure you were safe, but she caused this.
You didn't wait for her to respond, shuffling through your tote bag and grabbing up a crumpled piece of paper, slamming it in her hand before you got up and left, the gush of wind hitting her hair as she stared at her hand in horror, not knowing what to do.
- - night
Tara sat in her room, staring at the ceiling, hair draped all over her bed as the only light was from her lamp, only adding a light orange hue to her room.
She felt bad, she should've known that she never should've left you. She should've thought about how you were going to feel like. It made her want to cry.
As much as she's staring, she notices the crumpled up paper you gave her. She wasn't even sure what it was, maybe that's why she was so scared of opening it.
She grabs it from the side of her night stand and slowly uncrumples it, revealing a letter.
From you 3 years ago.
-
Dear Tara,
We've been friends for so long and I remember when you first came up to me in second grade because you noticed my friends weren't playing with me like they usually do everyday. To be honest, I never told you but for some reason, years ago, I remember staring at you every day while you ate lunch because you seemed so sweet and I wanted to approach you so badly. It's weird that myself in second grade would even do that. But you should know the only reason why I sat on the swings, every, single, day was because I wanted to see you. That's the first time we've ever met and I'm so blessed for that day because now, you're my best friend. Everyday I'm so happy to have you to be the reason I get to smile and have a shoulder to cry on or rest on. I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I remember feeling a strange feeling in my chest when I first confessed my problems at home with my parents and felt your soft hands touch mine to comfort me. 
It was so so weird. Love always seemed like something I might never have because I found it to be gross. But when I met you, I felt like love wasn't so bad anymore. That day, I remember feeling this warmness in my cheeks when you hugged me, I remember feeling something I don't feel for people often. I felt trust. That's when I knew I was falling in love with you. you've been there every step of the way and I don't know where I'd be without you. Tara, I want to write to you that I love you. I've been falling ever since on nights where I got yelled at and came to your house crying, when you invited me over for Christmas with your family because I didn't have a home I wanted to go to, I love you because you're Tara and it's so hard to explain. but at the same time it isn't. I don't think I met someone as loving, understanding, and caring as you, I've seen you as someone who can light up a room. Even on my bad days, you somehow manage to make me smile, not many people can do that for a person like me.
My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay. I would've been long gone if you weren't here. But meeting you has caused me to look forward to something to everyday. To someone. I don't think I've ever been so happy to you know, just walk to your house randomly and pop out under your bed and see your scared reaction. But, Tara Carpenter, I love you. I don't even think these words can even explain the kind of comfort, or need that I feel when you're by my side. I hope that these words can help you realize how much you've taken a toll on my life, and possibly, one day I can be by your side for the rest of my life.
All my love,
Y/N/Y/L/N
&lt;;33
-
Tara covered her mouth, trying to cover a cry, which came out muffled. Your words. Her betrayal. She left you before you could even tell her. 
She thought of your face in her thoughts, she thought of seeing the letter fall out of your hands when she ignored you on every day she could ever see you. 
She thought of you crumpling it with broken sobs and throwing it on your desk.
She thought of the letter you were going to give her, the letter that was supposed to be given, but never was.
The forgotten letter beginning to age.
And noticed, it was all ruffled and there were marks of fallen, long old tears on it, seeing how the ink smudged from the tears.
The letter fell, tears falling from her eyes and streaming down her face.
It must've been so long ago. But it felt like yesterday. Even though it was 3 years ago.
She could've changed the slightest thought of her mind the day she began to ignore you.
If she did, everything would've been right. She could picture her holding hands with you, cuddling at night with your favorite movie playing in the background. You two would've been in desperate, everlasting, love. If her parents didn't divorce, she could see you, in your usual wavy hair with a ribbon tied from the back with your half up half down, the smooth letter laying in your arms, running up to her. She could picture the way you smiled, the way your silly smile made her smile back with a tinted blush on her cheeks. She could picture the way she would jump up and down and say she loved you too.
Everything would've been perfect.
If she didn't leave you in the first place.
Instead, she was left with your letter, crumpled, not smooth, wrinkled, seeing the way the letter couldn't bear to be left anymore. 
Tara fell asleep that night, broken, feeling horrible for the way you must've felt, with the crinkled letter in her hand. 
- -
The next morning, Tara was at the park, she could see a train station up ahead, New York's local train station that she would take when she had to travel.
Tara was sitting under the tree you always sat at with her. The tree that held so many memories, the way when spring would hit, the white flowers would fall on the green grass when you two would be together. The way the tree's flowers began to wilt when you began to sit alone, like the friendship that began to wilt. 
She waited, you sat at this tree every single day, but why weren't you coming? She waited, looking up at the flowers, they weren't very white anymore, the fallen flowers a little orange from being dried. It was spring, it was April, the flowers should've been whiter, but they weren't as bright. What a metaphor and sign it was for her. But still, they were as pretty as ever. 
She bit her lip, sighing, grabbing the letter you wrote her again, reading it again. Then before she could read it again, as she looked up, she could see..
You? 
You were at the train station, you held a luggage, looked packed, with your hair down, usually ribbon in your hair, waiting to enter the train.
Her eyes widened, and it came to her, everything made sense, her thoughts unfolding, everything like magic was happening. 
She remembered something, something..
She quickly read the letter she was reading, then her eyes expanded with fear.
Then she remembered, it was 3 years since she left you, and it was April.
"My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay."
- -
happy ending
"Fuck!" Tara cried, grabbing the letter as she ran after you.
It couldn't be too late, it couldn't have been today! 
As she ran, her legs taking her as far as they could, she could hear your voice in her mind,
"You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"
She should've known you were going to leave, she should've seen last night! Is that why you were so afraid to see her when she came up to you? Because you knew you were going to be gone the next day? And she was going to keep you from leaving? Because you didn't have the heart to really tell her why she couldn't have talked to you?
It all made sense.
Tara sobbed as tears fell like a thunderstorm,  running and seeing the train doors open, there were at least 10 people in front of you waiting to get on, it made her more desperate, running after you.
She screamed your name, she was so close but yet so far away, why can't the people move slower? 
Tara lost her father and sister, she couldn't lose you. She can't. She needed to apologize, she never got to say her true apology.
She was almost there, and you were so close to entering the train, making her run up the stairs as fast as she could, panting and losing her breath.
The day was beginning to lose hope, there was only a few more people who needed to get on before it closed, before you did. 
She saw your figure, your pretty face, not focusing on the tired eye bags as she got up the stairs, running to the train.
Tara screamed your name as loud as she could, making you turn, and her grabbing your arm, pulling you and your luggage out of the train, seeing it start to roll away.
 She was panting hard, you turning to see her, your eyes full of fear, confusion, and most of all, a wave of.. Hope?
For some reason, it took her a while to catch her breath, but before you could say something, she hugged you, tightly.
The arms of you wrapped around her stomach, she felt you melt in her arms, burying your face against her chest, as she embraced you, the letter you wrote falling to the floor.
Tara cried as you both hugged, whispering in a slight broken voice, "I'm sorry Y-Y/N.."
You were crying too, softly as you hugged her, "I know.. It's okay. We're okay.." 
She kept talking, she felt horrible, "I-I left you when you needed me.. I was the only person you relied on a-and I left because I w-wasn't thinking about how you felt.. I thought t-that if I c-could push you away, these feelings I-I felt would go away and I wouldn't take m-my anger out on you for my parents divorcing.. I'm s-so s-sorry.." The girl's scent comforted you, reminding you of your past, making you hug her more.
Tara could hear you hiccupping on cries as she twisted your hair, "I didn't even k-know you needed me that much, you s-should've told me you were planning to leave."
You looked up at her, you were crying horribly, she swept bangs away from your face to see your tired, broken face that has been building up these past 3 years.
"I-I thought you didn't want to see me anymore.. I thought you didn't need me.. I-I thought you left because you hated me.. or didn't care about me anymore.. I couldn't bear to think about you breaking your promise.. I thought you abandoned me.. I was s-so hurt that I j-just did all these things that weren't me.. I tried to avoid you.. I couldn't sleep or eat.. I was s-so scared because I had no one.." You said, voice barely a whisper, raw and full of hurt.
Tara's eyes widened a little, a wave of strong guilt hitting her, as she shushed you.. "No Y/N.. Of course not.. I never hated you.. I-I loved you and I couldn't bear to think that I would take my anger out that you never caused on you.. S-so I avoided you and didn't think about how m-much it would affect you. I'm sorry.." Tara said again, voice cracking.
You nodded against her chest, sniffling as Tara saw the tears fall again, wiping them.
"I love you," she whispered, "I always had."
She saw your eyes slightly sparkle, that sparkle that she thought she'd never see, the sparkle that disappeared that day she left.
Her hands reached to grab the letter she dropped, showing it to you, "Let's try to restart, okay?"
You were still crying, but managed to make a small smile formed as you nodded, "Tara, I love you. I've loved you for so long, I've loved you when I realized that you were the one person that I could finally trust, a word that I thought that might never happened, but it did because o-of you. C-can we maybe.. Just.."
She pulled you a little closer, grinning just a little as she nodded her head before you could finish, "Yes."
Then she kissed you softly, it was like everything had never happened, she could feel the way you hugged her, the way the wilted flowers were going to flourish again, the letter that was forgotten, finally given.
"Do you really promise you won't leave me?.."
You both locked eyes when pulling away, Tara held up a pinky. 
"I don't break pinky promises."
You take her pinky and link it with yours, hugging her again.
"I trust you."
Every bad thing that happened between you two was long forgotten.
- -
angst ending
Tara's eyes widened with fear, seeing you with a packed luggage, your figure entering the train, you couldn't.. Not today..
"Fuck!" She cried, the train was not to far, she could still make it.
She screamed your name, all the feelings towards you she felt spilling out from her scream as she ran after you. 
She ran, ran ran ran, running out of breath as her shoes crumpled on dry leaves and grass, crying.
"No! You can't be! Y/N! Please!" She screamed, but her voice was muffled, you couldn't hear her. 
Tara was so close, yet so far as she kept running, getting closer, an apology of cries coming out.
The train got closer and closer as she finally saw you, screaming your name.
You finally turned around, knowing the voice all to well as you turned to see her. 
Then the train doors closed, your eyes only being seen through the window as she cried out your name, shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with regret and tears.
You looked at her, like you couldn't believe she was here, you thought you'd never see her again as your hand reached up to touch the window, your touch ghosting on her face as she could hear you mouth out her name.. "Tara.." Then she could sense the sense of shame on your face, sorrow.
"Please.. It's not too late.." She sobbed, her voice going in the crevices of the doors.
Then the train began to move, as she saw you getting farther and farther away, your hand on the window as she saw you mouth the words, "I'm sorry."
She ran after the train, but knew deep down, she wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to see you again, the train leaving her sight as she cried, regretting the days she ignored you, regretting the way she made you think that she didn't ever care. She abandoned someone when knowing, years ago, she was once the girl who promised to protect them and never leave her side.
She knew that you had left, all those memories you two had created were left with her now. She knew that you weren't going to come back.
She never even got to say goodbye. She never got to say sorry. She never got to tell you she loved you, she loved you all of these years. She never knew where you would be. She would never know if you two would ever meet again. 
The only sound she could hear was the wind blowing in her hair, blowing the muffled sounds of you two laughing and giggling, what you two once were, what you two could've been, it was just too late. You would just be a memory for her, a memory she could never forgive herself for. A broken memory she knew she caused. The memory was broken but she also knew, long season months ago, she broken your promised heart.
I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.
Take me back to the night we met.
Tara thought back to the day you two met, the day you became friends. The day that led to you falling to her years later. The day that led to her falling for you, then pushing you away.
The day that led to this.
If she could see your face one last time and kiss you, everything would be okay.
Tara knew that she was just too late, seeing the train long gone, tears in her eyes as she let out a choking sob, the letter falling out of her hand, long forgotten.
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bunniesanddeer · 2 months
Note
- [ ] SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! (This is a Alastor x fem! Cat! Reader)Okay so you know the scene where Alastor threatens Husk? The first part is the same thing it’s just that the reader saw the whole thing, unnoticed by neither Alastor or Husk. After it’s over, Alastor sees the reader(who totally has a crush on her), her looking right back at him with ears “pinned” to her head and a horrified look in her eyes. Since her and Husk are besties(slay💅🏻) furiously, she goes over to Husk to help him up. He assures her he’s fine and she walks away, absolutely furious with Al. He can’t help but feel a little guilty and remorseful, both feelings he’s not used to. Day after day of the reader ignoring him, he try’s to get her to forgive him but she’s a very stubborn feline. She isn’t easy to forgive after something like that. One day, after months, he finally gives up and hides in his room. He’s completely lost in thought and feels a bit upset and ashamed. He doesn’t notice the tears rolling down his cheeks. Meanwhile, the reader is at the bar, talking with Husk. As much as he despises Alastor, he tries to encourage the reader to talk to him. She finally complies and goes to his hotel room . She hears barely audible sobs through the door but knocks anyway. At last, she is met face to face with the demon himself, failing to hide his tear stained face. She can’t help but feel a little forgiveness for him. Long story short, he opens up to her, she forgives him and happily ever after❤️
Hi, sorry this took so long. A lot has happened to me in the last two weeks. I don't think I hit everything in this ask, but I hope it is still good?
Reminder
Pairing: Alastor x Cat!Reader
Tags/Warnings: Angst, that scene in Dad Beat Dad, sad Alastor angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 2,003
There was something to be said about how easy it could be to forget who he was. Maybe it was his charisma, the way he so easily drew you in to him. Maybe it was the way he smiled at you, how he could seem so soft with you, when he was so cold and sharp with others. There was so much about him that you admired, too, and it made it all so easy to forget. He always smiled, and although there was something to be said about toxic positivity, it made you happy, made it easier to smile back. You adored the way he held himself, always so confident. It was something you strived to emulate. But sometimes, he reminded you of who he was; The Radio Demon. Sometimes that little hind-brain of yours lit up at the sight of him, and all the things you knew about him would come flooding back.
Alastor was meant to be feared. He had earned his power in Hell, and to do that he had done awful, terrifying things. It seemed you needed a reminder, because you had grown far too comfortable with him. 
You followed quietly after Husk. He had taken off after Alastor and the Morningstar’s just after Mimzy had shown up. You didn’t know much about her, but with the way your friend had looked at her, you knew she wasn’t good news. Wishing to know more, you had followed after, hoping to join whatever conversation Husk and Alastor started up.
You did not find what you had expected. Husk and Alastor seemed to be arguing, which wasn’t unusual, but the way Al responded was strange. He looked annoyed. Husk yelled at Alastor, and Alastor responded with a laugh, and then Husk said something that shocked you down to your core.
“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash,” Husk had whispered hoarsely. Someone owned Alastor’s soul? How? Who? What could have possibly happened to do such a thing?
Your tail swished roughly against the floor, and your ears perked forward to hear more of the conversation. Eavesdropping wasn’t a good thing, but you needed to know more. 
Alastor’s head swiveled around in a terrifying way. The hallway grew darker, and his form grew large. “Aha! What did you say?” Alastor asks rhetorically. 
A green chain wraps around Husk’s throat, and it makes your heart jump. Alastor was going to hurt him! Your body grows stiff, and you watch on in horror as Alastor grows to a gigantic height, filling the hallway. He stalks towards Husk, and he starts yelling. You can’t hear a word, though, over the pounding of your heart. Your ears pin flat against your head, and your tail tucks itself around one of your legs. 
The whole ordeal is done in just a moment, and Alastor is back to his normal size. Husk is shaking, quivering on the ground, and despite the risk, you can’t help but rush towards him.
“Husk!” Your soft hands wrap around his forearms, and you help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”
Your head swivels, and you keep your eyes locked on Alastor, who has stopped walking away. His brows are sharply downturned, and despite the smile still lingering on his face, he looks desperately confused. Your tail whips back and forth behind you, drawing his gaze. His brows furrow further, and he cocks his head. He calls your name, and you can only shake your head in response. 
Something sharp grows in your chest when you look back at Husk. He still looks terrified, something you’ve never seen. How could you forget yourself? How could you forget who Alastor is? The two of you were on separate planes entirely. Whatever were you thinking?
You take in a sharp breath, and continue checking over Husk. The other feline assures you he’s fine, but you know better. You sigh, and push him to head back downstairs. You ignore the prickling feeling of Alastor’s gaze on your back. You need to separate yourself from him. It was not worth the risk.
Alastor can’t begin to describe the way he had been feeling over the last several weeks. While the hotel had burst into action for Charlie’s trip, and everything that came of it, he had been dealing with something else entirely. The threat Heaven posed was nothing, not when your eyes held such disdain, such fear within their depths. It was all because of him, too. There was no one to blame but himself. 
Alastor hated the feelings that were swirling in his gut. He hated how weak they made him. He hated how much he wanted you by his side, again. There was something so wonderful and enticing about how little you cared about his station, and now it was gone. You were deeply aware of his power over others, and you had removed yourself from his side. 
He had to do those kinds of things, though! That is what bothered him most. He needed to put the souls he owned back in their place when they disobeyed, when they spoke against him. Husker was no different. He might have been one of Alastor’s favorites, but Husker only had so long of a leash to pull and tug, and he had cut it short, that day. Alastor couldn’t understand why you didn’t understand that.
His affection for you had long since weakened him. It was something that kept him awake when he rarely lied down to rest. It buzzed in his thoughts when he was meant to be focusing on anything else. And yet. There was something so intoxicating about being around you. You were warm, and your face sent flutters down his spine. He couldn’t fathom why you were different from all those before, but you were, and that was that. It was much too late to change it now, he would have to cope with all these changes in his afterlife. 
The way your ears pinned back, and your tail flicked back and forth whenever you saw him, hurt. He was used to Husker responding that way to his presence, but at least that cat-demon bothered to acknowledge him. You outright ignored him to the best of your ability. You barely looked at him, and you hadn't spoken to him in weeks. It had affected the dynamics within the hotel, something that Charlie had brought up to him.
Alastor could only respond, “I have no clue, my dear. I’m sure it will work itself out in time.” Alastor lied through his teeth, and tried not to let that angry pit in his belly from eating at him. It hurt, but he refused to admit anything out loud. He could live with this, and he could move on. Smile, smile, smile, and smile he did. Even at his own expense.
He passed by the bar, and there you were, chatting with Husker. You had a bright drink in your hand, and you were laughing. The sound was bliss for Alastor, as he had gone so long without the sweet sound. Husker was rolling his eyes, continuing to tell some story that Alastor couldn’t bother to focus on. He just watched the way you reacted, and his chest ached. Something must have alerted you to his presence, however, because you turned, your eyes just barely glancing over him, before you stiffened, and turned back around. All contentment seemed to leech from you, and Alastor’s entire body seized.
So it was like that, was it? This is what all the months you had spent together had come to? All his wasted feelings, for nothing. Alastor could feel his smile slipping, so he stalked off to his room. With a strange sound escaping from his throat, he resolved to rid himself of these horrid feelings. 
There would be no more weakness, not on Alastor’s part. What was any of it worth? What was a heart meant for, if not to be trod on? Hot, wet tears trail down his cheeks, sore at the effort of keeping up his smile. One of his hands tug at the thick locks of hair closest to his face. His ears flop back, and he lets himself go loose as he makes it to his room. He would not let it happen again.
Husk sighs, and it draws your anxious gaze to him. “I know this probably ain’t what yer wantin’ to hear, but you should probably talk to Alastor.” 
You frown. “Why would I do that? He hurt you, Husk, and he was threatening to do worse. I shouldn’t have been any form of anything with him, dude.” You sigh, and your eyes trace invisible patterns on the bar top. “I should have known better. It was a wake-up call, and I have heeded it.”
Husk grunts, and he sets down the glass he had been cleaning. “I know, but he’s been off for a while now, and I think he regrets it, even if he refuses to admit it. I was also pushing things, shouldn��t have done that. It’s how Hell is, and I made my bed with that fact, long ago.” Husk puts his hand on your shoulder, and you meet his eyes. His expression is serious. “You were happier around him, too. Don’t let this one thing stop you from that. I hate him, that’s true, but you’re a good friend. You also mellow him out, a lot. I think, if you do this right, we’d all be better for it.”
You let out a harsh breath, and glare at the end of your t ail that curls around your ankle. The thought of Alastor makes your heart pound, and you know it isn’t just fear. You wanted to let that feeling grow, but you were so afraid of all the things he could do, just because he wanted to. Was it worth the risk?
Husk seemed to know what you were thinking and just said, “You’ve got this, kid.”
With a huff, you pushed up from the stool, and hopped down. You could do this. You just needed to confront The Radio Demon. And make it out alive. And maybe confess your budding feelings. Who knows. 
There was a knock at his door. It made his head ache. Everything felt strange, but he managed to make it up from where he had been slumped against the wall, and get to the door. He pressed his head against it, and listened closely. 
“Alastor, can we talk?” He could hear your soft voice, and the slight waiver it had. His chest squeezed harshly, and he couldn’t help but swing the door wide open.
“Sweetheart!” His voice was harsh and gravelly, and his static surged at the sight of you. Oh, your sweet little cat ears twitched at every noise, and your little tail was curled around your ankles. Oh, you seemed so nervous? Whatever did he do? “You’ve come to talk to me?”
“Oh, Al…” You whispered, your face awash with pity. Alastor felt self-loathing and something heavy twist his gut. He brushed off his pants, trying to relieve himself of the feeling. “We should talk, but we should probably get you some water first. You look a mess.”
And then you were smiling at him. It was a small one, but it held so much light in it. Alastor felt some of that lightness fill him up, and he could only hope it stayed. 
One of your soft hands reached up towards his head, and he settled his cheek into it. Your thumb rubbed at his tear-stained face. 
“I’m sorry, cher,” Alastor mumbled. He didn’t know where the words had come from, but they bubbled up and out of him before he could stop them.
“I know. We’ll talk about it, don’t worry.” And those words calmed him. The two of you would figure this out. It would take time, but he was sure he’d have your affections again, even if something had to change.
Reminder that my Asks are open! It might take a minute to get to, but feel free! Also, the pinned post on my profile is my taglist. Please reply there, if you would like to be added.
Taglist: @girl-nahh-two @numetalnerd2007 @justchillingandhavingfun @alastor-simp @thonethatflies620 @lemonyboy97 @fairyv-ice
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zepskies · 1 month
Text
Take Me Home - Part 3
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.
Word Count: 6.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 3: Welcome Home
In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days. 
He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.
They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow. 
The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested. 
And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection. 
Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.
“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.
Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.
“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”
You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”
She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”
You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”
You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.
That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.
Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.
“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.
At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”
You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.   
But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.
“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.
You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.
“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.
“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.
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A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.
Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.
Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.
You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.
The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.
“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”
Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.
Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.
“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 
You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process. 
You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”
He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.
And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.
“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”
His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head. 
“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”
You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…
Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.
“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”
You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.
The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).
Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.
“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”
He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.
“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”
Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.
The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.
Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.
When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.
“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.
“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.
“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”
You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.
“Coffee sounds great,” you said.
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You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.
It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.
In your experience, a good man was hard to find.
“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.
“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.   
“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.  
“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”
“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you. 
“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.
“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.
“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand. 
“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song. 
Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.
Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while. 
“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”
“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”
Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.
“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”
Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.
“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.
“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.
“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”
You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.
Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.
You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.
“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”
Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.
That struck a familiar bell.
“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.
He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”
“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”
Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”
You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.
“You have a brother?”
“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”
A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”
“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”
He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.
“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade. 
You let out a wry chuckle. 
“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily. 
You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.
You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.
“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last. 
Past tense, he noted. 
“Good guy?” he asked. 
“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines. 
“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”
“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough. 
“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said. 
Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them. 
Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.
“Jesus. How long?” he asked.
“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”
You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand. 
“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.
“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.
Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories. 
“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”
Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”
“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”
“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”
You shot him a look of amusement. 
“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.
You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.
He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”
In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.
“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”
That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride. 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”
You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.
“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.
He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.” 
You covered your face and laughed. 
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Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.
“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”
You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.
“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.
“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”
Beau recognized your hesitance.
“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”
You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.
Beau liked that smile too.
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Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.
“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.
“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.
“Really?” Cassie remarked.
“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.
That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.
“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”
Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.
“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.
“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”
“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”
Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”
“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”
Beau rolled his eyes.
A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.
Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.
Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.
“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”
Beau shot her a wry look.
“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”
Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.” 
He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”
“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.
“Hey! She can hear you.”
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Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.
“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”
 Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.
“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.
Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”
Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.
“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.
To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.
“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.
“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”
“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.
You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape. 
Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.
“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”
Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.
“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.
“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.
Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.
“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.
Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.
“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.
“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.
“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.
“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.
“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.
“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.
She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.
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Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.
That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.
“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.
“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”
Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”
After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.
While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.
Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.
“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.
“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.
“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased. 
“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.” 
Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”
You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.
Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.
The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.
Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.
“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.
Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.
“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”
It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended. 
“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”
Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”
You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.
“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded. 
“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”
You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.
“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.
He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”
Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.
Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.
“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.
There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends. 
“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners. 
“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”
You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea. 
“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased. 
“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.  
Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.
Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes. 
“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked. 
That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.
“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you. 
“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied. 
“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in. 
“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.
“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.
You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary. 
“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”
You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.
“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.” 
“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.
You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.
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When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.
“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”
Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”
“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.
You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.
“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.
Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.
“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—” 
“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.
He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”
You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?
…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.
“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice. 
Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon. 
Then you wished him a good night. 
“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”
Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.
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AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...
Next Time:
You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.
You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 
Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.
“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”
You shot him a narrowed look.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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203 notes · View notes
berryzxx · 5 months
Note
Could you do a really angsty fic where Matheo's annoyed because reader (he likes her) was getting too close to Theo/Draco/Enzo/Cormac LITERALLY ANYONE at a party and then they have an argument and he confesses. Ty
Perfectly serious
(sorry this took so long but I've been busy not handing in my assignments.) Also angst isn't my strong point but I TRIED. I continued writing the fic and the ending may not be what you wanted but I still hope u like it x)
Summary: Matheo's jealousy and want for you increases after seeing you with Theo to the point where he finally/kind of confesses
Matheo Riddle x reader
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His arm wrapped around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. "Come on, let's get you to bed" Theo murmured. I looked up at him confused "I'm not drunk". My head might feel light and I might feel extremely happy and sad at the same time but I was most definitely not drunk.
"Yes you are" He took my hand and led me away from the groups of people dancing together, taking his time to weave us in and around the drinks being passed around. Everyone gave me a smile as I left, Pansy giving me a wink as we passed "I bet he fucks good. Have fun babe!" She said, her words slurring slightly, her voice loud enough for Theo to hear. Maybe if he heard it he would act on it. I wouldn't mind getting in bed with him.
We soon reached my room, the music faded to a low sound coming from below us and the lights softer than the harsh party lights of before.
"Well...night y/n" Theo said.
"You know" I started, my voice low and sultry. "I wouldn't mind if you joined me, made things more interesting. Hm?" I tilted my head waiting for his answer, his eyes searching my face. For what I didn't know.
He gave me a soft smile "Your drunk. And when drunk, your ideas aren't really your own. So as much as I'd like to follow through with your idea, it's best you get some sleep"
I rolled my eyes at him being who he always was. I wished for once he would push the boundaries. "Fine. Night Theo"
"Sweet dreams" He dropped my hand and waited for me to close the door. I could hear his receding footsteps, probably to go up to his own dorm. I was relieved in a way. Maybe I wasn't actually ready to fuck him and it was just the alcohol making me want something more. We were good friends. I didn't want to ruin that for something that I didn't really want. Chocolate brown eyes crossed my mind. Curly hair that would feel so nice running my hands through-. Something that would never happen.
*Potions the next day*
"I didn't see you yesterday" I said to Matheo referring to the party yesterday. Stirring in the crushed up leaves into the steaming potion, I turned to look at him, his eyes were icy and cold as if I had done some personal wrong against him.
"Of course you didn't. You were too busy trying to estimate your chances with Theo. Heads up, princess. He has higher standards"
I ignored the nickname that would usually make me swoon and instead my mouth opened in shock. How fucking rude of him. Was he ok?
"Are you being serious right now?" I stopped stirring the potion and crossed my arms. I could take a joke but come on. He had taken it too far.
"Perfectly serious. Why? Did you think I was nice?" He stood up to tower over me, his minty scent washing over me. His chocolate brown eyes were like daggers into my soul. It hurt knowing someone I was good friends with could switch up so fast.
"No actually, I didn't. Your just like everyone says you are. You get with a girl for your own pleasure, lead her on and then leave her with a broken heart. Your a rude fucking asshole and nothing more"
His jaw clenched at what I said, waiting for me to say anything else. I didn't actually mean it but I would never let anyone disrespect me and not expect anything back.
I realised soon how close we were. If only he were to move slightly closer, I could have tipped my head upwards and kissed him. The fact that I was thinking about that even though he had insulted me was annoying for me. I shouldn't still like him. Not anymore.
"You really mean that?" His voice came out soft, his jaw no longer clenched. As if he understood what I had said. I hesitated. Of course I didn't. How could I? I liked him for fucks sake.
I sighed "I don't know"
He sat back down as if he were tired of our argument. As if he didn't want to argue with me.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said-"
"Let's just forget about it. Ok?" I didn't want to argue either. Maybe he was angry and took it out on me. Fine. I would give him a pass just this once seen as though we were such good friends. (If only we were more than that)
He nodded his head and we worked in silence for the next few minutes. Until he cleared his throat and looked toward me again "Listen y/n. I don't want us to ruin our...friendship for something I've said so let me treat you. Will you be free to come to (insert Restaurant name bc I can't think of one rn) at eight?"
I paused and raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly "Are you asking me on a date or just as friends?" Confident of me to ask but I wanted to know where we stood.
After a pause he replied with "I'd be happy with either, as long as it's with you"
I thought about my next question "And if I want it to be a date?" I asked quietly.
He smiled "I was hoping you'd say that, princess"
260 notes · View notes
kiskisur · 8 months
Note
This might be a long one but hear me out…
Xiao x m!adeptus!reader
Xiao angst where we were an adeptus that went missing during the cataclysm. Xiao misses us deeply but after all these years is starting to slowly forget our facial features. 🙈 Andddd maybeeee we come back and he takes a while to recognize us.
Ty and have a nice day! 💟
ᝰ.ᐟ you know I can't fight the feeling.
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warnings: angst with comfort, adeptus!male reader x xiao, he/him pronouns for [name] (you!) (sorry huhu it helps me improve my writing but I'll try in a 2nd POV maybe? ^^), reader goes missing for hundreds of years.
note: I'm so sorry it took long!! I was resting from. school but here you gooo~ I enjoyed it!!
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In the heart of Liyue, where the sunlight dances on the water, [name] and Xiao found themselves in a rare moment of tranquility.
[name] grinned playfully, nudging Xiao with his elbow. "Hey, you with the brooding expression. You know, you've got this whole mysterious aura going on."
Xiao rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of a smile. "I'm not trying to be mysterious. It's just... who I am."
[name] chuckled, leaning in as if he had a juicy secret to share. "Well, lucky for you, I'm the only one who gets to see through that 'mysterious' façade of yours."
Xiao raised an eyebrow, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity in his gaze. "Oh, really? And how exactly do you manage that?"
[name]'s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Simple. I see the Xiao who loves dandelion seeds flying in the wind, the one who secretly enjoys the good I make when he thinks no one's watching."
A faint blush colored Xiao's cheeks, but he crossed his arms in mock defense. "You're making things up."
[Name] pouted dramatically, feigning offense. "Hey now, I thought you'd be happy that I pay attention to these things."
Xiao's resistance finally crumbled, and he couldn't suppress a laugh. "[Name], you're unbelievable."
"That's why you love me," [name] teased, his tone turning softer.
Xiao's gaze softened as he looked at [name]. "Yeah, I do."
[name] beamed, his heart practically radiating with joy. "So, my dandelion-loving, enjoying-my-food Xiao, what's been on your mind lately?"
Xiao sighed, his expression turning more serious. "It's just...I've lived for so long, seen so much. Sometimes, the weight of time feels overwhelming."
[name] reached for Xiao's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I get it, Xiao. But remember, I'm here. We're in this together. And even when you feel like time is dragging you down, I'll be here to lift you up."
Xiao's eyes softened further, gratitude shining in his gaze. "You always know what to say."
[name] winked. "That's because I pay attention to my enigmatic, dandelion-loving boyfriend."
Xiao shook his head, unable to suppress his smile any longer. "You're incorrigible."
"But you love me for it," [name] said with a wink, pulling Xiao into a warm embrace.
One day, though, [name] disappeared. Poof. Just gone. Without a single word, leaving Xiao in a state of shock. Imagine, someone who was always in your space suddenly vanishing like an elusive treasure.
Fast forward through countless sunrises and sunsets, and Xiao's demeanor had changed. He became colder than a Cryo user in the middle of a snowstorm. The once-expressive man turned into a stoic figure, his laughter a rare occurrence, and his interactions minimal.
It's like [name]'s absence took a piece of his soul. You could see him staring into the distance, his eyes clouded with a mixture of sadness and longing. And those dandelion seeds he used to love? Well, they now seemed to remind him of [name], so they got the cold shoulder too.
Time passed. Centuries flowed by like a fast-forwarded play, and the memory of [name] started to blur like a vivid dream upon waking. Xiao's chest ached at the thought that he was forgetting [name]'s laugh, their quirky habits, and even the way their hand fit perfectly in his.
One day, he stood by the Liyue harbor, gazing out at the waves, and a wave of panic washed over him. [name] was slipping away from his mind, and he couldn't stop it. Every detail, every laugh, every touch – they were all fading, and Xiao felt like he was losing [name] all over again.
Zhongli, always the wise one, tried to console him. "Xiao, memories may fade, but the emotions you shared are timeless."
Xiao's gaze was distant, lost in the past. "How can I move on from someone I loved for hundreds of years? It's like letting go of a part of myself."
But then, a day that felt like an echo from history happened. [name] stood before him, as if time had bowed to their love. Xiao's jaw dropped, eyes wide like a Geo traveler who just found a rare artifact.
"[Name]?" he gasped, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief.
[name]'s grin was familiar, the twinkle in his eyes undiminished. "I told you I'd find my way back."
And in that moment, the years melted away, the pain dissolved, and time seemed irrelevant. Xiao rushed forward, unable to hold back his tears, his emotions like a flood bursting through a dam.
"[Name], I... I thought I'd lost you forever," he stammered, voice quivering.
[name] pulled him into a tight embrace, his warmth a reminder that they were real, that they were here. "I'm here now, Xiao. And I'm not going anywhere."
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the centuries seemed like a distant memory. The forgotten memories resurfaced, the laughter echoed like a long-lost melody, and their love, well, it was stronger than ever. Time might have tried to erase their story, but it had failed, because in the end, love was the ultimate conqueror.
ᝰ.ᐟ and every night I feel it right now, I wish you were here with me.
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295 notes · View notes
ghostofthemost141 · 5 months
Text
Glass Eyes
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Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)
Word Count: 1,862
Themes: Angst and more Angst
About: You and Ghost are happily married, except you don't remember that. After a mission accident, you are having amnesia and Ghost wants you to remember the life you have.
Notes: Inspired by a TikTok I saw and decided to put it into word format. Nickname for this one is Birdie. And I have Ghost's thoughts jumbled in here so anything that is like this are his internal thoughts. Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate it! Enjoyy!
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“Lieutenant.” 
“Yes?” Ghost called to me with a sour tone. 
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. 
No, my Birdie. You did not. 
Ghost’s piercing blue eyes stared into my soul. When he came into our meeting room, he didn’t have his usual mask that obscured his entire face. I had never even realized his eyes were blue until he came in today with just a black jacket, his skull balaclava mask that revealed the upper part of his face, gray jeans, and blue converse shoes. Ever since I woke up from my injury, Ghost always looks at me with so much sadness. I don’t understand why he does that. 
“No.” He mumbled. 
I did not understand were this was all coming from. Everytime I ask, Soap, Gaz or Price, they just give me a ‘He is going through a lot right now’ but won’t tell me what. It was all confusing especially since he is giving me kind of the cold shoulder. 
If only you would understand, Birdie. Better yet, remember. 
I could look at Ghost and could see he was thinking, while staring at me. I feel like I should have a talk with him, especially when I haven’t done a damn thing wrong and yet he is treating me like this. He should know that I am one of the best fighters here besides him. Nevertheless, I need to continue this meeting as usual. 
“How is your head?” Gaz asked me. 
“Hurts, but manageable. I have been through worse.” I answer. 
It’s true. You were nearly shot to death when you first started and you still fought with the last bit of bloody strength you had in ya. You’re a fighter. A damn good fighter. 
“I feel like I know what’s coming.” I say. 
“Yeah, we are sending you home temporarily. You’ll be able to come back once your brain is healed.” Price informed me. 
Fuck. 
What a relief. 
“I’ll miss y’all, but orders are orders.” I announce, turning to the guys. 
They were all smiling at me except for Ghost who, once again, had his eyes turned away from me. What the hell? 
“I guess I better go pack my things. Y’all don’t have too much fun in the field without me.” I joke, making the guys laugh. 
“Do you want some help, Birdie?” Soap offered. 
I wanted to accept his offer, but I also wanted to leave the door open for Ghost so I could talk with him. 
“I got it, but thank you Johnny.” I smiled at him and he did it back. 
Even though Ghost has a mysterious charm to him, Soap has always been so kind and friendly to me. He’s also quite the handsome devil. I wonder if he is single, I am just not the one to ask someone about their love life. Disbanding the meeting, I turned and walked to my room, getting ready to pack my belongings. Despite my love for being out in the field, I was lowkey happy to be sent home on temporary leave. Gaz told me that if I were to hit my head again, I could be rendered a vegetable so it’s best for me to be sent home so I can heal and be able to be back on the field. I stepped into my room, feeling a small wave of sadness. 
“I’m gonna miss ya.” I say to myself in my room. 
“You’re never coming back here.” 
“AHH! JESUS!!” I cried out, getting startled by Ghost’s sudden appearance. 
“Ghost, you scared me.” 
“Sorry.” He mumbled. 
As I was catching my breath, I had just realized what he said.
“You’re never coming back here.” 
“What did you mean by that?” 
“By what?” 
“You said I was never coming back here. What did you mean by that?” I ask, seeing he is beating around the bush. 
Ghost’s eyes pierced at me, as if I was his enemy. 
“You won’t be comin’ back here. They are just lettin’ you down easy. A head injury is basically a death sentence for being in the force.” Ghost told me. 
I felt my heart drop, hearing Ghost tell me that. 
“I..I don’t understand.” I mumbled. 
“Of course you don’t.” 
No fucking way. I shot my head up at him and walked up to him. 
“What’s your problem? Ever since I came out of my coma you’ve done nothing but give me the cold shoulder and as far as I know I haven’t done a damn thing to you! So what gives?” I exclaimed in near hysterics. 
“It’s nothin’.” Ghost sneered. 
“No it is, tell me now Lieutenant.” I sternly said. 
“No.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Birdie, don’t.” 
“It’s something alright, just tell me.” 
I swear to God I am going to scream and I don’t want to do that to you, my love. 
“Tell me.” 
“Tell me.” 
“Tell me.” 
“Tell me.”
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me now.” 
“Tell me-” 
“YOU ARE MY WIFE!!” 
What? What did he just say? Ghost’s eyes were wide..I couldn’t even tell what it was. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it denial? I couldn’t tell.  
“What? What do you mean?” I asked Ghost, trying to reach for him but he just flinched away from me. 
“You..” Ghost paused as he tried to gather his words up, “you hit your head, Birdie. During a mission, someone snuck up behind you, and hit you in the head with the butt of their gun. Despite you passing out, you managed to kill the bloody bastard. But by the time I reached you, you were unconscious. We took you to the medic and we put you in a medical coma to give your brain time to heal. You were lucky to have no bleeding up in there, but they said the possibility of you having amnesia was high. I didn’t want to believe it..” 
“Lieutenant?” 
What? Why did she call me that? She always calls me Simon. Birdie looked down to see me holding her hand. 
“I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me.” She joked with a smile. 
Does she not..
“Of course I would be, love.” 
“Love? Aw you don’t have to pretend you care so much, Ghost, it’s not like we are dating or anything.” 
Oh…
Oh. 
Bloody fucking hell. This is not happening. I was about to speak when I saw the old geyser Price doing a frantic head shaking motion at me. What? What does that mean? 
“I was just..worried is all, Birdie. I’m glad you’re okay.” I say, letting go of her hand despite feeling heartbreak for the first time ever. 
“..until you said that. ‘It’s not like we are dating or anything’. That told me right there you don’t remember.” 
I could feel a heavy weight in my chest. This..this was all too much.  Why, why would Ghost be telling me this? I don’t understand. 
“Why would you be telling me this now?” I questioned. 
“Because I want you to remember.” 
For a split second, I swear I could hear Ghost’s voice breaking, as if he was going to cry. I have never heard Ghost cry, ever. But within that split second, he got his composure back. 
“You..you make me so happy, Birdie. I just want you to remember.” 
I thought about it. I mentally dug into my brain, to try and remember anything, something, any little thing that would indicate that Ghost and I were..together. But nothing came up. No memory or nothing. Just blackness. 
“I’m..I’m sorry Ghost. I don’t remember-” 
“Just pack your shiet and leave.” Ghost growled. 
“Ghost, I’m sorry I-” 
“Just..go. Now.” 
I have never heard Ghost get this intense nor scary. I didn’t know what to say. I felt bad for him that he supposedly had a life with me, but I just can’t remember it. I wanted to say something else, but I felt like anything I said would upset him. 
“Yes, sir.” I mumbled. 
Upon me saying that. Ghost immediately turned and walked out of my room. I wish I could remember. I have always had an infatuation for Ghost and the fact that he told me we are married, is an absolute shock to me. And I wish I could remember. 
Goodbye, my Birdie. 
One month later
My head didn’t hurt as much as usual today, which made me happy. Even though Price did eventually tell me I wouldn’t be able to come back to the field due to my head injury, he was happy to visit me once they got to go back home. Same with Gaz and Soap. The only one I haven’t heard from was Ghost. I wanted to reach out to him, but considering the last time we talked was a month ago and he ordered me to ‘pack my shiet and leave now.’ I get that he was upset, but I also wish he understood my point of view. I want to remember, trust me, but no matter how much I rack my brain, I can’t remember. I only remember me getting recruited and the day of my injury. Every once in a while, I will have a small flashback to a small thing that happened during my time on the field, but they are never about Ghost and I being together. None of this makes sense, but there is nothing I can do about it. I was at my dining table, stirring my coffee mug about to sip it and eat the french toast I made. 
*KnockKnock*
Who could that be? I am not expecting anyone and Price didn’t tell me they would be coming home anytime soon. I got up, went up to the front door, and opened it, nearly fainting in response. 
“Hey, Birdie.” 
Ghost stood there at my doorway holding a bouquet of..
“Ghost, I uh..didn't expect you.” I admitted, considering how angry he was with me. 
“I know.” 
“Would you like to come in? I can make you some tea.” I offer. 
“I’m fine, I just wanted to come by and bring you these. They were your favorite. And to also apologize for how I treated you when you left. It wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” Ghost apologized. 
I don’t think I have ever heard Ghost apologize before and it was definitely genuine. 
“It’s okay, sir. I understand.” 
I understood where he was coming from. 
“Please, just Simon is alright.” He said. 
Simon? Simon..
Ghost then handed me the bouquet of sunflowers. They smelled so nice, so heavenly, so…
“Simon.. Do you really feel that way about me?” 
“I do, I love you, Birdie…” 
~
“How are we going to tell Price about us?” 
“I’ll figure something out, love. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing…” 
~
“Si.” 
“I love you so much, Birdie..You complete me.” 
~
“Birdie, will you marry me?” 
“Simon..yes. Yes I will.” 
~
I..I remember now. 
“Si?’ 
Simon’s eyes beamed up and were once again full of life again, hearing me utter his nickname I had for him. 
“Birdie..” 
You’re back, my love. You’re finally back. 
END 
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day-drawn-blog · 6 months
Text
Part VII: I went away cause I missed you or maybe You are not mine and am I truly yours? - The Power
Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I
Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that
Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon
Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight
Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace
Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live
Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known
Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.
Part VIII: Your blood like wine, invites me in.
Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance
Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die
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You all stayed at camp as two of your party members recovered their physical and psychic damage. Not much happened. The second night, Astarion was able to step out, and sit next to the campfire with everyone. Everyone had spent time on their own way - resting. Wyll seemed to have refined a dance. He wanted to share with everyone, and asked for a partner, just as you walked in with a bunch of firewood. Everyone looked at you and Wyll found his volunteer. You indulged him.
It turned out more fun than you had thought.
You enjoyed dancing in a previous life. A life which you cannot remember much of, anymore. Everyone was being merry. Astarion seemed to be recovering because he made some snarky comment at Wyll's dancing skills. Said he always dreamt of marrying a handsome prince charming like Wyll as a kid - making everyone burst out in laughter. Wyll offered to dance with him in return and Astarion turned him down saying he was afraid of being stepped on. After which a funny banter followed.
All was not as bad as it could be. 
"You seem to be all better, Astarion. Good to see, soldier. It's all thanks to Halsin's medicine that our dear captain so diligently put on you all night" Karlach beamed, gesturing to you. You felt like a deer in the spotlight. "Ah no no no, I hardly -- " "Of course you did, you followed my instructions perfectly" chimed in Halsin, unhelpfully. 
You looked down to the ground blushing. You didn't want to look at Astarion. At this point you may as well hold a sign saying you love him, you thought. "Thank you. Captain." Astarion returned, in a solemn and deep voice. "I owe you my life". "Again." You were sure he said that last word, or did he. It was said very softly, almost to himself.
Everyone was able to march forwards again.
In the underdark the next day, Shadowheart and Karlach were chatting. You wondered if Shadowheart and Astarion had found their way to each other again. You hoped they did. You did not want to come in between real love. "You know, I have a spent time in a crypt. But the underdark, still unsettles me". What? 
Astarion had caught up with you. 
He was trying to make conversation! You were surprised. "Are you still feeling unwell? Maybe you thought I was someone else?". You blurted out unwittingly. Half joking, but also, not. "Why would you say that? I was perfectly aware who I was walking upto to have an idle chatter with. If you are not interested... however" He feigned being hurt. "You never talk to me, Astarion. This feels very, not normal. Why now?". You were genuinely curious. 
"Do I not?" He seemed hurt. 
"We haven't spoken a word except last night in the past week". You reminded him, pettily. " I had, a few things to sort through, in my head." He said, a bit distant. "But I feel much better today. Both in body and in mind". "That is very good to hear. We were all worried that night. You were close to falling in the water". 
You two then talked a fair bit. 
About the incident, about his time as a magistrate in Baldurs gate. A few things about Cazador. You felt there was more to the Cazador story than he let on. But that would have to wait. You were in combat again. 
You started with your back to his back. 
You had never fought this way before. You felt safer. You cancelled someone trying to cast a spell on the party. Then at one point, while you were momentarily distracted, you saw two hands on either side of you, cast 'ignis' from behind you, as hot flames burst forth. It was so warm for a moment. Not just from the spell but his breathy voice right behind you as he took down your enemy for you. 
His face was so close to you. 
"Look out!" You were so distracted by his face, you didn't see the arrows coming. Astarion turned you around while shielding you with his back that took the arrows. His armor was enough to save him but that was dangerous. "What are you doing?!," You demanded, slightly frowning since that was reckless. "Saving your distracted self. You're welcome" he snarked back. 
And whose fault is that, again. You sighed.
Fighting side by side had it's charms. It gave him advantage on his sneak attacks while you took out any enemies in range. But at one point, towards the end of the battle, you were both near a ledge, when someone set off an explosive and you both fell off. Down into the abyss. You cast feather fall to save your lives and braced for impact. 
It didn't hurt as much but you both fell in a pool of rubble dirt and dust that clouded everything. Coughing, you couldn't see in the smoke cloud and dust. The area looked precarious. As if a false step or loud sound would make you go crashing further. Astarion was a few feet away. Coughing.
He crawled towards you. "Are you okay"? 
A wooden beam seemed to fall towards you as you looked up. Your mind went blank. You Eldritch blasted it and realized it splattered into a hundred splinters that were now raining down on you. In an instant, Astarion was on you. Fully armored. And he shielded you from the worst of them. You on your back, him on all fours, protecting you.
"What are you doing?" 
You were genuinely angry. Why does he keep putting himself in danger for you! Those splinters were not enough to hurt you badly, and you did not need saving from something so trivial. What has gotten into him today. Being the Hero. Didn't he find the idea repulsive? You couldn't understand this man. He definitely disapproved of a lot of your more benevolent choices in the past. And now look at who is being the Hero.
Hypocrite.
You expected him to say he was saving you, and you had your reply ready in your head. That you would have survived just fine. You just needed to remember the right spell. 
"I'm being ... grateful". 
Is what he said. What? You looked into his eyes. Once again, his face, was very close to yours. "You are a handful. You know that"? He quipped. You were offended. "Excuse me - I cast feath -- " His lips were on yours. He sucked and pulled on your lower lip before parting. 
"I -- wa --- " 
"Shut up" and he kissed you again. Several times. Quick, rash and hurried. His tongue found yours. You had no time to breathe. Your mind was going blank again. Why does this man do this to you every time. You put your arms around him without thinking when a voice rang out. "You guys ok down there? " Karlach's voice ran out from above. 
He tore away instantly.
"Yes! " He promptly got away and waved "we are here!!" "I saved her but now we need help getting out". "You didn't save ---" " Shut up or I will kiss you again". It wasn't the warning that shut you up. But the shock at what was happening... You just stared at him wide eyed. "If you don't believe me, why don't you test me" he smirked. He helped you up. The party had thrown a rope ladder down to you two. 
After you. He said.
You held the rope. No, after you. "I'm afraid, my love, that can't be helped" he stood behind you and tugged at the rope to check its strength, he was so close again. "I need to keep my eyes on you darling. " He smirked again as he leaned in and kissed you again. This one was longer and more tender. "For the journey back up, my dear. Who knows when I can tear you away again".
His hand was on your stomach. Tantalizingly close to your breasts. "I would like to savor you more ....later" He said in a very low voice, next to your ears, almost in a whisper. Your head tilted back, he planted one more kiss on your lips and let you go. You gripped the rope hard. Your heard pounding from the kisses he lavished on you. 
You tried to focus on the task at hand, and made your way up, slowly. Looking back down every now and again as he smiled up at you.
You resolved to end this turmoil soon.
Back up reunited, you decided to stay with the others the rest of the day. That didn't prevent him from catching your eye and flashing his smile at you every chance he got. You turned away, cheeks flushed and confused, every time.
Back at camp that night, you tore away from everyone, to sort your thoughts through before confronting him. You found a secluded pool, so you stripped to your inners and went in the cool water. You were still uncomfortable being completely naked in the wilderness. Made you feel, vulnerable. Besides - who knew if someone was lurking. These woods were filled with thieves, bandits...vampires.
"There you are, darling. "
Shocked, you turned to see him. "How did you -". He smirked. "Why, I can smell your sweet blood miles away. Did you forget, I'm a... vampire" he winked. You were infuriated - not a moment's peace with this man around. You should have washed your wounds faster. Years of being a predator has given him perfect stalking skills it seemed. Fine. Might as well get it done with. You braced yourself.
Astarion stripped down and got into the water.
Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.
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sanemisstalker · 9 months
Note
Idk why but like I really wanna die in somebody’s arms- it’s like such a beautiful but sad way to die?
(**kny spoilers**)
kinda like how Mitsuri died in Obanai’s arms bc that was such a heartbreaking moment but it also was kinda sweet at the same time? Idek anymore 😭 ty for your time btw <3
Broooo-
I hate to be that guy and point to your username, but I think dying in Giyu's arms would be the worst emotionally. I think it'd be actually devastating.
CW// Death / Implied Major Character Death/ Implied Suicide/ Angst
A part of me reasons that Sanemi could handle it about as well as he handles anything else. Poorly, but he'd continue like he always does. That's all he can do because he thinks anything else is a show of extreme cowardice and he doesn't deserve to feel that way.
But when you're in his arms, dying, more color is dissapearing, and he's fighting to see your face past the tears- he's wailing and screaming, and trying to command you to come back. That normally works. Maybe he's gotten scary enough to scare death, but no. He'll never be enough to fend off the inevitable.
I don't think Shinobu would be much different. She has an astonishing amount of hate in her heart. Enough to patch up the wound long enough for her to pretend it isn't there anymore.
You'd be lying in her arms, and all of it would be beating against her head. Every word you ever said, every piece of medical knowledge she had, and for her to be the only one able to know just how incapable she was of saving you- She'd start begging a higher power, probably, begging you to be strong in her stead- save yourself because she's not strong enough.
Rengoku wouldn't cry until you fully slipped away, doing all he could to muster his voice flat- you needed comfort, obviously. He knew it wouldn't heal the wounds, nothing could, but he was still denying that to keep his smile wide.
You wouldn't be in his arms but on his lap, his hand sweeping hair from your fading eyes. I think He'd sit there for a while. For too long, just trying to prevent tears, because you wouldn't make a move to wipe them.
Tengen would hurt, bad. You're in his arms, and he's rocking you, and he's having a panic attack- He'd deny it the hardest. For the longest.
There's a notable difference, Tengen understood, between the weight of a breathing person, and a dead body. He knew that difference the second you slumped against his shoulder, and his knees hit the ground. He'd try to wake you up, tell you to stop the act, it isn't funny, because God, what else could he do but joke in a half witted prayer to hear your laugh.
Giyu....
Fuck me , man. I don't think he's emotionally strong enough to handle anymore loss. He's already disliked by his peers, by himself, god, and everyone who breathed. You were the only person willing to talk with him- to waste time on him. To love him.
The imagery for this one is vivid- the rain. Ironic. Even in his own element he couldn't save you. He's hunched over you and mimics your shallow breathes, protecting your face from the down pour.
You can't get the words out to say how much you really, deeply love him. He keeps shushing you, trying to conserve your energy- He's panicking, too, hands unsure of their need. There were so many wounds, he couldn't possibly tend to them all.
The poor boy would whisper a beg- to let him go in your stead. He couldn't be left alone to survive again. Not again. He had too many lives he was carrying on his shoulders. Too many souls he was responsible for reaching heaven with, and he was never that good a man.
He's not asking God, he's asking you. And how cruel you were to not let him die.
'I can't- Y/N, I can't do this again.' He'd sound close to vomiting. A certain animalistic sound to his voice. Guttural, almost. 'You-You-God- no-no-n-'
But you'd be gone, unable and unwillingly to give him to permission he so desperately needed. Not deserved, He'd remind himself.
He'd all but rot next to you. The second your last breathe loosed, he'd stop breathing, too. Days would go by. Unmoving. Unfeeling.
I truly believe he'd die with you that day.
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starryevermore · 4 months
Text
tis the damn season ✧ jamie tartt
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
summary: he won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask him to stay. so he’ll go back to london and the so-called friends who’ll write books about him, if he ever makes it, and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles he’s faking. and the heart he knows he’s breaking is his own, to leave the warmest bed he’s ever known. 
word count: 4,850
warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, (badly written) smut, unprotected sex, pinv sex, angst, breaking up, pining, not proofread
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Jamie Tartt was not the type of man to fall in love. He didn’t think he was capable of it. Something about his heart, maybe. Something about how his dad made him feel like love was a weakness. That if he ever opened himself up to a person like that, his dad would be disappointed, and where there came disappointment… If he was a poet, he could probably say it more eloquently. But Jamie Tartt was a far cry from a poet. The best he could say was that he couldn’t love—no matter what, no matter who. 
And maybe that’s why it stung, just a little bit, when his mum mentioned you. 
He had come back up to Manchester for the holidays—something he seldom did, in an effort to avoid his dad. But he missed home, he missed his mum. And, besides, it was the holidays. There were no games to be played. No training he had to attend. It was kind of sad to be at the bars and clubs on Christmas. What else was he to do besides go home? Was there anything left for him in London? So, he came and prayed that James Tartt would be nowhere to be found. 
He was lucky in that regard, but all luck runs out eventually. 
“I saw that girl you used to go to school with when I went to the shop yesterday,” Georgie said when Jamie came down for dinner. Jamie grabbed one of the rolls Simon made, scarfing it down before grabbing a second. He watched his mum as he chewed, wondering where she was going with this. “Oh, what’s her name? The one who always had her nose in a book? You remember, the girl you always followed around like a puppy.”
Oh, Jamie remembered you. He remembered you quite well. You were his first actual girlfriend, back before he became a famous footballer. You didn’t care much for football, or the fact that Jamie’s right foot had been kissed by God and that he was well on his way of making a career out of the only thing he cared for. Well, okay, you did care about him achieving his dreams (had they been his dreams? or had all of it been something his father pushed on him? fuck—this is why he doesn’t come home for the holidays. it makes him think too much). But you cared more about him. You cared about how rocky road was his favorite ice cream flavor. You cared about how Disney movies were his favorite—and not the newer shit, the classic stuff. You cared about how he liked to be held and have his hair played with. You cared about how Jamie would try to read the books you loved just to try to understand you more. You cared, and he couldn’t, and that’s why it ended. 
He muttered your name before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. 
“That’s right! Sweet girl, she is, you know? Anyway, apparently she’s opened up this cute little book shop.”
“Why’re you telling me about this?” Jamie asked, mid-way through chewing his food. Simon gave him a disapproving look. Simon only looked disapproving when Jamie forgot his manners. But why should he give a fuck about manners? He was signed by Man City! He was such a good footballer that he got loaned out to Richmond to help their pathetic asses! Jamie Tartt could be a complete and utter prick, and nothing would ever go wrong. He could have anything, anyone he wanted. (Except, maybe, you.) 
“I stopped in the other day, during the big grand opening,” Georgie continued. “It was such a wonderful event. She even made cookies! You remember them? Those little peanut butter things that you would always beg for? Oh, Simon might have cracked the code on the recipe!” She nudged Simon with her elbow. “‘Course, he could always just ask for the recipe. I’m sure she would be happy to give it. But he has to do everything himself!”
Jamie stared at his mum. She would get to her point eventually. No need in him saying anything until she reached it. 
“Anyways, she was asking about you. Said she hoped you were doing well. I told her you were, that you were doing well at Richmond. But I think you should stop by her shop. It would be nice to see her, wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I guess. Don’t really talk to her anymore, y’know? Haven’t for years. Be kinda weird to show up now.”
“Just think about it, okay? I think she’d be happy to see you.”
He shrugged, again. If Jamie was honest with himself, he would agree it would be nice to see you. But…Well, the last time he saw you, he hadn’t exactly left on good terms. 
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Six Years Ago…
Jamie couldn’t meet your gaze. If he looked you in the eyes, he would falter. If he faltered, he would never make it out of here. And, fuck, he really needed to make it out of here. But when you spoke to him, your voice quivering ever so slightly, he nearly broke his resolve. 
“What are you saying, JamJam?”
Okay. Okay, that he could focus on. Direct his frustrations to that. If he made a big deal out of that, he could stamp down all of the other awful feelings he had towards that. 
“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you call me that,” Jamie lied. 
A frown settled on your face. You took a step towards him, reaching out. He took a step back. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Why are you doing this?”
Jamie looked away again. Fuck, he really couldn’t do this. How do other people break up so easily? His dad had no problem leaving his mum. Why was he having so much trouble leaving you? He tried to think back to something his dad had said—anything his dad had said—when he was having horrible, blow out fights with his mum that Jamie couldn’t ignore no matter how many times he tried stuffing his ears. But his mind was drawing a blank. 
He couldn’t think straight when he was with you. 
“Well? Are you going to say something or are you going to keep acting like a dick?”
He sucked in a breath and settled on, “I can’t be with someone like you anymore. Would look bad for my career.”
“Your career…?” you repeated. You shook your head, like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Is this really because you’ve signed to Man City?”
Jamie shrugged. He didn’t know what he could say to you. Anything that came out of his mouth would only make things worse. Not that this was really going well. But he couldn’t…He didn’t want to break your heart, not really. He’d wanted this to be a clean break. Something that you’d understand, and you’d let him go. But everything he said just made it harder and harder to go. 
“Because if it is, you really are the biggest fucking prick I’ve ever met,” you continued. “Like, seriously? You finally start making it big and you want to throw everything from your old, poor life behind? What’s next? You’re gonna tell Georgie you won’t take her calls anymore? Pretend that you never knew any of us?”
“Don’t talk about my mum.” Ugh, fuck. This was going worse than he ever could have imagined. He looked back at you, trying to give you the most disinterested look he could manage. “Just get outta here. I don’t have time for this anymore.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You are a fucking prick. What, you’ll defend your mum but rag on me? That’s spineless, Jamie. If you want to break up with me because you’re going to be too famous for me, just fucking say so.”
Shit. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. He didn’t want to make you angry. He just…He wanted you to understand. (But understand what? That he was a spineless coward, letting his dad’s words about not needing to be tied down when he entered the big leagues get to his head?) “Always been a prick. You’re just finally catching up with everyone else.”
You rolled your eyes again. With a shake of your head, you said, “You know what? I hope this is all worth it. Making me hate you before you leave. Because now all I can think when I see you is that I can’t believe I wasted my time with a guy who can’t even be honest with me.”
Jamie bit his tongue, holding back everything he wanted to say to you. To tell you the truth, to apologize and get on his knees and grovel until you forgave him. But instead, he only looked away. “Whatever.”
For a long moment, you stared at him, not saying a word. Probably waiting for him to make the first move, to see if he was going to actually let you in. But when he didn’t, you only shook your head, turned, and left. 
Jamie stood there, listening to you go down the stairs, shout a goodbye at Georgie, then the door shut. A minute later, his mum came up the stairs, poking her head in. She tutted when she saw all of his things strewn about the room, not even close to being finished packing. 
“I thought she was going to help you pack? You two get distracted again?” Georgie asked. 
“Something like that,” Jamie grumbled. He grabbed his duffel bag, starting to shove his shirts in it. “Don’t gotta worry about that no more. She won’t distract me anymore.”
Georgie frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
Jamie looked out the window, catching a glimpse of you as you walked down the street to your own home. “Just don’t gotta worry anymore. We won’t be seeing her around anymore.”
And, oh, how he hated himself for that. But he would never admit it. He’d rather lie to himself, convince himself that this was a good thing, than admit that he just made what was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of his life. 
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“I’m going out a run,” Jamie said when dinner was finished and Simon began to collect the plates to be washed. 
Georgie rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Can take my boy away from the game, but can’t take the game out of my boy,” she teased, reaching over and pinching one of his cheeks. Jamie let out a chuckle at the gesture. More seriously, she said, “Be careful. And make sure you have your phone on ya, yeah? Just ‘cause you’re a big footballer now, doesn’t mean that you can’t get into trouble.”
Jamie nodded, not really listening. He just needed to get out of there, if only for an hour or two. He loved his mum, yeah, but something about how the conversation turned to you really unnerved him. He’d done just fine not thinking about you for the last however many years. But now that you were forced back into his brain, he couldn’t figure out how to shake you out. So, he slipped on his trainers, pulled on a jacket, and shouted his goodbye to his mum and Simon before disappearing into the night. 
He wasn’t quite sure where he was heading. It was like his feet had a mind of his own, taking him wherever they pleased. And who was he to judge? After all, his feet made his fucking career. Without his feet, he would have nothing. So, if they wanted to take him on a tour of Manchester, fine by him. It’s just…Well, he’d prefer it if the tour didn’t end right outside of your bookshop. 
Jamie stared at the “open” sign for a long time. It was odd for a shop to be open so late, but you always were a night owl. You thrived when the sun went down. (His heart hurt when he realized just how easy it was to recall such simple details like that. How, even after all these years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.) 
There was a strong urge to keep running. To jog right past your shop and pretend that he never saw it. That he was never tempted to see you again, no matter how much his heart earned to just hear you one last time. It would be easier that way. Jamie had no idea what you felt towards him. If the anger still simmered from that fight. If your heart still earned for him, too. If you didn’t feel anything towards him at all—not love, not hatred, not anything. But there was a stronger urge to push open that shop, if only to get a glimpse of your face. He didn’t have to say anything. He could pretend he was at the wrong place, turn and run before you could even realize who was there. (He couldn’t do that, though. If he was going to commit, he had to commit. There was no backing out. If he was going to see you, he was going to see you.) 
Holding his breath, Jamie pushed open the door, a little bell jingling as it swung. 
There was no turning back now. 
“We’re about to close!” you shouted from somewhere in the back of the shop. “So unless you know exactly what you’re looking for and where to find it, go ahead and head on out!”
Jamie followed the sound of your voice, finding you in the back corner of the shop. It was a cute little knitting corner, with loads of yarn and needles and books of patterns. There was a long table, with a bunch of seats around it. Did people come here to knit? That was kind of cute. Jamie wondered, briefly, if you knew how to knit, and if maybe you could teach him. He’d like to have something to do with his hands when he had moments to relax. 
And you…God, you looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. How was that even possible? 
You weren’t even trying to look beautiful. Your hair was tied up, out of your face. Some strands had fallen loose. On anyone else, it might have made them look disheveled. But on you? It made you look like a goddess. You wore a large white sweater (had you made it in this little knitting corner?) and a long patterned skirt. From the bottom of your skirt, he could see a pair of socks peeking out. They looked like those sort of socks that had famous paintings printed on them. Jamie didn’t really know the names of any famous paintings, so he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. To top it all off, you wore the same chunky white trainers you’d worn the last time he ever saw you. Adorable, and practical—a perfect description of everything he knew you to be. 
“Thought you were gonna be a doctor somethin’,” Jamie said, tearing his eyes away from you and at the rows and rows of shelves. The shelves had little chalkboard signs above them with the genre written on them. They had a little bit of artwork corresponding to the genre, too. A bloody knife and the scream mask for horror, some hearts and flowers for romance, what looked to be an impressive portrait of Gandalf for fantasy. Did you draw them? He didn’t remember you being very artistic, and he thought he knew everything there was to know about you. Maybe he didn’t know much of you at all anymore. 
When you turned, there was shock clearly written all over your face. Your brows were raised, your mouth dropped open. You looked at him almost like you’d seen a ghost. Like, of all the people that could’ve shown up in your shop, he was the very last person you’d ever think to see. Maybe that was his fault. 
But then you smiled at him. He liked your smile. It wasn’t like the strange, uncanny smiles of the models he surrounded himself with—all perfectly straight, so white it could blind him. No, your teeth were natural, and perfect. “It didn’t make me happy like I thought it would.”
“Ah.” He didn’t really understand that. Was the point of a career to be happy? Wasn’t it just to make loads of money? To get your parents off your back? 
“And are you? Happy, I mean? Playing football.”
Jamie paused. That was an odd question. “I’m a top scorer at Richmond. At the last game, I—”
You held up your hand, signaling for him to stop talking. His mouth shut, and you said, “Jamie, I didn’t ask for your stats. If I wanted to know those, I could look them up myself. I asked if you were happy.”
Jamie paused again. He wasn’t quite sure the answer to that question. The only other person who ever really cared about that was his mum, and she’d been too excited to see him to ask that question yet. Was he happy? What did being happy really mean? “I don’t know.”
You frowned. Oh, he hated that. You frowning, he means, but also that look you were giving him. How your brows were pinched together, how you stared at him like you could see straight into his soul. You probably could. You’d always been smart like that. If there was anyone who could figure out a way to see into the thoughts, feelings, character of people…Well, it would have to be you. Or maybe his mum. But definitely you. 
“Oh, Jamie.”
And there it was. Perhaps the reason he found himself standing in your little shop just as it was closing. Perhaps the reason he couldn’t get you out of his head. Perhaps the reason that, even after all these years, all he could think about was how badly he fucked this. 
You stepped toward him, wrapping your arms around him. You pulled his face down into the crook of your neck. If you were anyone else, he might have wrenched away, told you to fuck off. But it was you, and he liked the way you smelled of roses, vanilla, and freshly brewed coffee. So he let himself wrap his arms around your waist, to take the moment to inhale your scent as he stood in your embrace. 
Being that close to you…He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to your neck, pressing another when he heard you gasp. You were always so sensitive, so easy to rile up. A bit of pride swelled in his chest, knowing that he had all the right buttons to press memorized. He kissed up your neck, down your jaw, pausing just as his lips were about to meet yours.
“Stop me,” he whispered. He didn’t want you to, not really. But he wanted you to know you had a way out. That you were in control. 
Instead, you kissed him. A small moan escaped your lips. Fuck, he always loved the little noises you would make for him. He used to make a game of it, to see how quickly he could make you cry and whimper and whine for him. 
His hands fell to your waist, gripping it tight as he lifted you up onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his hips and tugged him closer. He grew hard, just from being this close to you. Fuck, he had really missed you. Missed this. What had he been thinking all those years ago to let you go? 
“Fuck me, Jamie, please,” you whined, reaching down, fiddling with his zipper. 
“Don’t got a condom—” he started to say when he remembered that he’d left his wallet at home. (How could he not have a condom?) As much as he wanted this, he didn’t want to take any risks. At least, not without you being okay with it.
“Don’t care. ‘m on the pill.”
“You sure?”
“Quit talking and fuck me, please,” you grumbled, nipping at his lips.
Jamie let out a chuckle, helping you free his cock from his pants. He pushed your skirt up, pulled your panties to the side to see if you were ready for him. A smirk settled on his face as he felt how wet you were. “Desperate for me, huh?” he teased, pressing kisses down your jaw. 
“Can you blame me?”
“Not one bit.”
He pushed his cock past your slick folds, groaning at the feeling. God, he’d forgotten how tight your pussy was. How you clenched around him with every thrust, how you sucked him back in, determined to take every last inch. 
“You're fucking perfect, love,” he said, panting with each thrust. “Dunno why I left you. Shoulda stayed. Shoulda been content with you.”
Your brows pinched together—whether from the pleasure or from his confession, he wasn’t too sure. Your mouth opened, ready to say something, but his cock hit that spongy spot deep in your cunt and a moan escaped instead. Your arms wrapped around him, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. “Y-You don’t mean that,” you gasped, your eyes squeezed shut. 
“I do. I do—” Jamie pulled you closer, his thrusts growing shallower. He reached between your legs, thumb settling on your clit, rubbing his fast circles, helping you reach your high with him. “You mean everything to me. Always fucking have.”
“JamJam—” you said, your voice growing louder as he hit that sensitive spot again, and again, and again. His heart stuttered at the nickname. He thought he would never hear it again, never hear you call him that again. Whatever you were going to say next was lost in a moan so loud you nearly screamed, cumming around him, squeezing the life out of his cock.
Jamie came not long after, his head falling to the crook of your neck, a groan escaping his lips. He pressed a kiss to your neck, staying like that for just a moment, trying to commit it to memory. “I mean it. Shoulda stayed.”
You pressed against his shoulder. He pulled away with a frown. You offered a small smile. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. This was enough.”
He took a moment to tuck his softening cock away to try and collect his thoughts. How could you not understand that he was being genuine? Did you really think he was the sort of guy who’d say things he didn’t mean just to have sex with you? (Though, to be fair, he was that sort of guy. But not with you, never with you. You were the only person who could ever get the genuine side of him.) 
“I want to stay with you forever. To throw it all away.”
You stayed silent, sensing that this mind was working too fast for him to figure out how to say all the things he wanted to say. So, you let him stand there and process. You were always so good about that. Would always give him the room to figure things out instead of making him feel like an idiot for not knowing to talk about the hard things. 
Jamie’s hands came to rest on your hips as you stayed there in the silence. He rubbed small circles on the bit of exposed skin that appeared when your sweater became untucked from your skirt in all the madness. He liked this. He liked soft moments with you. When he was younger, he used to swear he would bottle them all up and keep them forever. He liked it then, and he liked it now. But, as he stood there with you, it all began to weight down on him. This scared him. This kind of commitment he was willing to give you…It could never work out. 
“But I can’t stay,” he whispered.
You reached up, caressing his face, running your fingers through his hair. He let himself shut his eyes, to enjoy the moment. He knew it wouldn’t last. “I know.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. You stilled, your fingers no longer scratching at his scalp. “It’s too hard to leave now.”
“Oh, Jamie—”
“But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t get you outta my fucking head. Didn’t even mean to show up here, but it’s like my feet were working all on their own. Like they had their own brain or somethin’, I don’t know.”
You scratched at his scalp again, dragging your nails and soothing him. “It’s alright, Jamie. I never thought you were going to stick around. You were always meant for more.”
Jamie sniffled. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck so you couldn’t see his face. He pretended like he didn’t know you could feel the tears trickling out of his eyes. “You’re enough, though. You’re more than enough for me.”
“But you can’t stay,” you finished his thought.
“I’m nothing without football. There isn’t anything else I can do. I’m not brilliant like you,” he mumbled. “I can’t just leave what I’d been working for my entire life and open a book shop because it makes me happy.”
“Football doesn’t make you happy anymore?”
“It does, but you make me happier.” He looked up, letting you see the tears rolling down his cheeks.
You caressed his face, your thumb rubbing the swell of his cheek. A tear smeared across his face as you did so. “JamJam, you’ve always been meant for more. But if that’s not what you want anymore…It’s okay to leave those things behind. It’ll hurt, it’ll suck, but if it means you’ll be happier…It’ll always be worth it.”
Jamie shook his head. No. You didn’t understand. How could you? You didn’t have to deal with his dad. You didn’t have the same expectations, the same level of scrutiny. If the media found out he left football for this life, a simple life, then they’d never let him have a day of peace. They would still follow him around, talk shit about everything he did. And, God, if they found out about you…You didn’t deserve that kind of hatred they’d spew. He couldn’t ruin your peace for his own selfish reasons. 
“You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me, JamJam. Help me understand.”
He pushed himself away, turned his back to you. He couldn’t do this. “I have to leave.”
You followed after him. But when you reached out for him, he jerked away. “JamJam…Jamie, I love you. I have always loved you, but if you runaway right now…I don’t know that I can let you in again.”
Jamie swallowed thickly. He hated this. He hated it so much, but it was what he needed to do. He had to do this, no matter how much his heart and his brain screamed at him otherwise. “That’s probably for the best.”
When you didn’t say anymore, he started to walk away. With every step he took, it felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind. He fought every instinct to look back at you, to come running into your arms, to tell you he was an idiot and he could never leave you again. 
“Jamie?” you called out. He paused in his step, but didn’t turn. “Is this because you think being with someone like me will hurt your career?”
The tears started to well up in his eyes again. He was grateful you couldn’t see his face, that you couldn’t tell how much this was hurting him. He didn’t want to taint this moment anymore than he already was. “That was never true. You…you were always more amazing than I ever deserved. You should be with someone better than me.”
You were silent for a beat, then two. For a second, he wondered if you even heard him. Should he repeat himself? Or would that just make things worse? Finally, you said, “Goodbye, Jamie.”
“Goodbye, love.”
He left the shop without turning back. But, as he crossed the street, he turned. Watched as the lights in the shop slowly turned off. As you came out, locking the door behind you. He almost ducked behind a lamppost, not wanting you to realize he was still hanging around. But he didn’t, letting you see him as you turned around. You offered him a sad smile and a wave before turning and walking away. Away from him, from his life, forever. 
Jamie opened his mouth, ready to call out to you. But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. You deserved better than a man who always so hot and cold with you. So, he turned, too, and began to jog back home. Maybe if he was lucky, Simon would still have some of those peanut butter cookies leftover. That could be good for him. 
Yeah, that could be good. 
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heerinnie · 5 months
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jay, 64! <3
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𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐈𝐭?
𝐏.𝐉𝐒
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SYNOPSIS: Park Jongseong a.k.a. Jay was a bad fortune, always in some kind of inconvenience having to fight to get away from the issues surrounding him until you came along and made him a better man.
WARNINGS: Angst/Fluff - sad ending ig, mentions of domestic ab/se, abandonment, jay x fem!reader (anything else let me know)
(Not proofread)
WC: 810
^^SFW UNDERCUT
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Never intended, never meant. Your involvement with Park Jongseong was never supposed to happen and yet it did and you couldn’t be happier.
He was a bad fortune, always in some kind of inconvenience having to fight to get away from the issues surrounding him and the people causing them. Not you though, you always stayed even if your mere presence could kill him he’d take the risk and become a martyr for his affection.
-
Abandoned and alone, you and jay strolled around the empty night streets lightened by flickering street lamps that normally should have you heaving out of fear yet you felt safe. Safer than being home, safer than being at school or anywhere where Jay wouldn’t be found. It’s not that you were being hurt at home or mistreated at school, it was far from that at least you thought so yourself- it was just that measly and soul sucking feeling that came with the distance Jay would unwillingly have to give you during the day time since he wouldn’t want you ti get associated with a person like him. A ‘lawless and negligent delinquent’.
But he was far from that, he wasn’t some wrongdoer that taunted the streets of your town. He was not an irresponsible offender that everyone claimed him to be, nobody helped him and nobody listened to his so called sob stories that were genuine cries and pleads for help and action so he can grow up to a good status. He got discarded like an empty candy wrapper with remains of sweetness that disintegrated and decayed when the rain came. He got moulded into who he was today, cold and bitter to the world that failed to save him.
“Are you cold?” Were the first words that left jays mouth after strolling in silence for a while,
“No yeah, I’m good”
“I feel like there’s something on your mind, wanna talk about it?”, his sudden movements came to a halt as his soft eyes examined your expression.
No matter how many times you told Jay you’re alright he always knew that you weren’t. It was strange, it almost felt like his heart strings were being pulled to your direction engulfing you into a warm and secured hug you both quietly needed. Best friends are like this right? They feel what the other feels? Think the same thoughts? They get goosebumps whenever they make physical contact? That’s all platonic, it had to be.
For Jay it wasn’t, he knew from the first time he saw you, you’d be the one for him and then when you made an effort to understand him even with his reputation he wanted nothing else than to wife you up right then and there.
-
Jay had his moments. Metaphorically speaking he’d be a bungee jumpers worst nightmare, some thrill seeker would want to jump at the opportunity they found only to find out they just accepted a near-death experience. If the cord snaps you feel immense fear about your fate, the only difference between jay and a broken restraint is that you’d be able to survive one. Interpret that however you want, your own guess was no better than theirs.
For all the cynical moments with jay there were always more beautiful moments at bay, like when you first saw him cry. Ideally seeing someone cry shouldn’t be a comforting memory, however with the context of jay feeling so secure in your presence he finally let himself go and it felt sickly bittersweet to see someone so damaged feel so vulnerable for the first time in forever.
-
It’s not everyday you’d stumble upon lilies of the valley but every time you did you couldn’t help but recall jay’s words.
“If I ever leave, remember me by these” he said passing you the delicate flowers, obviously taken a back by his words you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that. Is he leaving? Is he in trouble? Is he in that headspace again? Your thoughts raced to the worst possible scenarios before Jay took your hand into his and placing the bell-shaped white flowers behind your ear.
“Don’t worry darling” his voice cooed. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I still don’t know how I’m supposed to word it out-” the nerves started to settle in, “but I decided that it’d be better for me to move”.
It felt like a bullet just ripped you through your heart. A pain that could take down the strongest army. Now all that’s left here were the memories you made with Jay and all the firsts you had with him.
-
You’ll never regret meeting Jongseong, you’ll never forget meeting jongseong and you’ll never forget loving jongseong- even if it’s been years since you’ve held him in your arms, even if you never got the chance to let him know.
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A/N: And so I’m back, I rested at home for a bit. I’m so glad I finally finished this and half of the other requests I got! Thank you to everyone who reached out after I posted about my tiny break. Hopefully I’ll start posting regularly again and I’ll be able to share more of my work <3
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chryblossomjjk · 1 year
Text
bts fic recommendations | 01.25.23
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→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs
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scent of eager suds - @rkivian (knj x reader | smut, angst, pwp, fluff)
summary: you missed each other, too fucking much. but your head had stayed down in futile hopes of remaining stubborn, forgetting that there is a wedding ring on that tricksy little finger of his for a reason.
so..... genuinely convinced you are the reincarnate of shakespeare babe bc like:
"He would spend a considerably scant amount of time on such a task, yet fulfil it so thoroughly that the constant aching between your legs seemed more equitable than you would like it to be."
LOOK WHAT YOU DO WITH WORDS!!! like everything is so precise. i can tell there's so much thought put into every single word of this piece and woah.. the writing is fucking stellar, seriously. like just the words you use throughout this displays how the reader feels about being vulnerable with joonie: cruel, vengeful, venomous. u put pwp but like you characterized the fuck out of this reader and it's so good...
also... this is thee kim namjoon. like as someone who is v much similar to the reader and self sabotages relationships, ppl who love you enough to recognize that trait and do their best to prove u wrong
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AND YOU DID THAT ALL THROUGHOUT THE FLITHIEST NASTIEST SEXIEST SMUT EVER PLS HE'S SO HOT LIKE HE TRULY JUST WANTS TO MAKE HER FEEL GOOD INSIDE AND OUT AND IM GATEKEEPING HIM!!!! this was so so so beautiful and thank you for sharing with plebeians like me :') &lt;3
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the one where jin is drunk off his face and you get friend-zoned - @indgio (ksj x reader | fluff, crack)
saf everything you write just comforts my soul. it's missing jin hours around these parts and this is exactly want i needed. i don't know how to explain it but this gives me run episode vibes? like... this is legit kim seokjin. I COULD TOTALLY PICTURE HIM DOING SOME SHIT LIKE THIS LMAO WHAT A SWEET BABY!
also love this oc fr. like from the opening paragraph i could already tell she's the most adorable, most precious being, and you proved it throughout the rest :') <3 taking care of ur drunk partner trope will never not get me and you did it so splendidly ugh will definitely be coming back to this when im sad and 3am and missing my seokjin :'( thanks for this ily <3
"tell me more about this girlfriend of yours."
but jin looks at you with a frown, as he downs the water. "no. get your own."
^also for whatever reason this took me tf out lmao
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the one where jungkook will always protect you, even from the fictional - @indgio (jjk x reader | fluff, humor)
bby istg your writing is so... refreshing? like i always think i need these super crazy, convoluted, heavy plots for my fics to be good, but your writing is proof that doesn't have to be the case. your writing is so effortless, yet so beautiful. like once again, genuine comfort content that i don't see too much of anymore. going through your masterlist has really inspired me to take a new avenue, because your fics are just so fucking addicting. i just love the slice of life vibes so much uGh okay enough nutting over u and onto the fic sehfbjsehbdhwb
pov ur saf in my brain BC THE AMOUNT OF TIMES IVE DAYDREAMED ABOUT THIS EXACT SCENARIO IS MENTAL ILLNESS (was just picturing binge watching AOT w him :'))
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this jungkook is such a golden retriever ass boyfriend my heart can't take it. the banter ?? the protectiveness ?? THE BITING THE EAR ??? naur im in love it's settled. adding him to the list of fav jungkook portrayals on tumby. will be thinking about him when im bored in the back of my lecture tomorrow. thank you for daydream fuel &lt;3
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stfu yes it's wednesday get off my back >:'( i posted this early last week and was just trying to even the timing out that's all... im lying. anyways, love u lmao
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mxnkeydo · 6 months
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i loved you ‘til my dying day ✧ percy jackson oneshot
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✧ summary the war against gaea has finally come. percy and his friends are thrown into the battle, but when something draws him closer to his girlfriend, annabeth, he doesn’t expect it to end like it does.
✧ genre angst, sad
✧ word count 1.4K
✧ warnings foul language, mention of blood
✧ link to main masterlist
✧ a/n ok. so. i actually have no clue what i wrote because the inspo for this came late last night while i was scrolling tumblr and came across this prompt. hope this is okay (even though it is most likely trash heh) also tagging @urfriendlywriter thank you for the lovely prompt! (side note: reblogs would mean the world to me!!)
✧ ✧ ✧
Demigods are merely the gods’ pawns, Percy thinks, swinging Riptide in an arch around him. They were used, they were manipulated, and they were laughed at. Being the son of Poseidon is not as great as they all think it is.
And what’s the point when the Fates have it all planned out, anyway? What is so great in defeating all those monsters when you were just destined to die in the end?
He glances at his girlfriend, Annabeth, through all the commotion. Her blonde curls bounce as she moves like a human tornado, and a vicious scowl is seared onto her face. The demons around her visibly back off, unsure of how to approach in a non-suicidal way. In a daze, Percy proudly mutters, “That’s my girl.”
But a single moment of inactivity could cost him his life; a new batch of giants are gaining on him already, smiling like the devil had descended to take his soul. He slashes through them all with his blade, finishing them in a matter of seconds, soon staring at the empty space where they once stood. Their remains – that black, sparkling dust – float to the ground and settle in the grass. It should give him a good feeling, eliminating all of those monsters, but instead all he feels is a certain uneasiness that makes his stomach churn.
Yet, there is nothing he can do about it other than fight. Chiron said earlier that they are helping the gods, but really, they are only helping themselves. After one Great Prophecy, Percy knows that it’s all a lie, that the immortals needed them to stay alive. They managed just fine when it was only them atop Olympus. They were all just lazy and prideful and indolent and Percy has had enough.
As he’s fighting his way to the middle of the crowd he catches sight of Annabeth once more and Percy feels it again; that anxious feeling that has shivers running down his spine, like there’s a ghost breathing down his back. He turns, but there’s nothing there other than more monsters, more demons, more creatures to kill. Almost instinctively, he slices a charging hellhound in half, wincing a half-second later when he realizes it could have been Mrs. O’Leary.
His own power scares him. Percy has never admitted this truth to anyone, not even Annabeth. Sometimes, fighting in a battle was like being twelve years old again, standing back and watching his seventeen year old self slay the bad guys without batting an eye. He used to think it was some great feat, but not anymore. Death, regardless of who died, is still death.
Suddenly, a wind comes rolling their way and Percy can’t help but ease his muscles as he briefly allows it to wash over him. It’s a short, stolen moment that reminds him that the world isn’t all bloody and violent and full of vengeance. It could be beautiful too, if they let it. If they stop destroying, destroying, destroying, and start creating instead. For the first time, Percy wholly understands his girlfriend’s passion for architecture; it’s all about making something new, building something exquisite for the coming generations to admire.
For the third time, he looks at her. He feels a strange pull, like an invisible force yanking him in her direction. Percy knows his instincts are always right, but…
But nothing. His instincts are always spot on. If they tell him to go to Anmabeth’s side, then that’s exactly what he’ll do.
Percy pushes past demigods, both Greek and Roman, as they fight hard—and more importantly, fight as one. In his peripheral vision, he spots Reyna’s long braid whipping out, smacking a monster in the face. Next to her is Piper, looking like a living, breathing death wish. Put a dagger in that girl’s hand, and she turns from sugar and spice to straight up murderous. Percy thinks he sees Grover too, somewhere. His chest does a painful pang at the thought of his best friend, and that they might not see one another again.
Percy’s closer to Annabeth now, only a few feet away. He opens his mouth to call out to her, to let her know that he’s okay, to tell her that they won’t be separated ever again.
And there it is, fiercer than ever. That ominous feeling that something bad’s about to happen. Before he even knows it, Percy flings himself in front of Annabeth with a savage battlecry that manages to pierce his own ears.
Time stops. The world ceases to turn. All he can see is…
Blood.
Deep crimson blood, coming from… his sternum? Percy presses his fingers to the wound deliriously, and feels a sharp point sticking out of his torso.
Percy Jackson, age seventeen. Cause of death: a spear to the abdomen. It sounds ridiculous; he, the demigod that underwent the curse of Achilles, dying from a spear wound? Percy manages a smile as his knees wobble and bend underneath him. Riptide clatters to the ground.
“Seaweed Brain?” Her voice is distant, like he’s underwater. “Seaweed Brain–Percy, stay with me.”
Vaguely, he hears her shout for medics, for someone from the Apollo cabin, for anyone, anyone, who will help him.
“You’re going to be fine,” she assures him, frantically, but it sounds more like she’s only reassuring herself. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. As long as we’re together, remember?”
Percy tries to utter a word, but instead coughs up more blood, staining the dirt around him a sickening red. “Wise Girl, I’m fine,” he croaks with difficulty. His hand still trembling and weak rises to cup her face. “I’m– hey, look at me.”
And she does. Her eyes are red and bloodshot and grief-struck. Her once-tan skin now seems blackened and gray. “You’re bleeding,” she whispers, grabbing his outstretched hand. Her chest rises and falls with deep, desperate breaths as she laces their fingers together and places them on her heart. “I swear to all the gods, Percy, if you love me one bit you will stay conscious, you hear me?” Annabeth’s voice trembles as she tries hard to push the tears back.
“Don’t scold me,” Percy protests feebly. “Am I not in pain?”
“Percy! Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, ma’am.” He grins slightly, then winces once his eyes land on the blood pooling from his stomach. Annabeth must have noticed because she lifts his chin and kisses him hard, a year’s worth of passion and desire poured into it. When she pulls away a split second later, she’s full-on sobbing. She presses kisses to his face, to the top of his head, buries her face in his hair.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispers, and then she’s seven years old again. “Please, don’t leave me again.” She hiccups. Then: “Fuck, Percy, why would you do that? Why would you get yourself injured like this?”
“Because I love you, Wise Girl.”
“Percy—“
“No, wait. I love you. I love how your brain’s always whirring with some new plan, I love the sound of your laugh, I love the way you smile at me. I love everything about you. I want you to know.”
“Percy…stop,” Annabeth says softly. “We’re going to help you, please...”
“Remember when I fell into the canoe lake at camp? That was funny.”
“We’re in the middle of a war and you’re making jokes?” Her eyes suddenly spark furiously behind a wall of tears.
“Oh, and remember the time you nearly killed me during sparring?”
Annabeth snorted at that, her lips turning up into a trembling smile. “I destroyed you, admit it.”
“Annabeth,” Percy breathes. “I—I love you. So much.”
“No, you are not dying on me!”
“Annabeth.”
It takes her a moment to respond. “I love you too,” she says with difficulty, like the words are being ripped out of her mouth.
“Tell my mom I love her too, okay? And—and Paul. And Grover. And Frank and Hazel. Chiron, too. Everyone.”
“Percy, no, stay with me—“
He soaks in the sight of his girlfriend one last time—her stormy gray irises, her princess curls—before closing his eyes.
Annabeth shouts for the medic again—a guttural, anguished call, and it’s the last thing Percy hears before he breathes his last next to the pine tree on the border of Camp Half-Blood.
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winter-leftovers · 7 months
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Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter eleven: Smother (11/?)
(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)
Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.
Chapter Summary: Y/n learns about Douxie’s new feelings for her. Strickler needs protection
Word count: 2582
Warnings: lil bit of angst?
(Season 1 Episode 20, 21,23,24)
Song?: Smother by Daughter
Previous - Next
Masterlist
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“Jim is in more danger than we thought” Y/n grabbed one of Blinky’s books and showed him the page she was reading “Angor Rot made a bargain. He obtained his magic but cursed his soul into a single ring, the Inferna Copula” she pointed to the picture of the ring.
“Mm, picture. Helpful” said Aaarrrgghh.
“Who wears the ring, controls him” Y/n continued. When her magic came back, a lot of knowledge came back too.
“It says here that Angor’s been stealing the souls of Trollhunters in a blasphemous attempt to fill the void ever since” Blinky grabbed the book from Y/n’s hands. After a moment he turned to his friend “You don’t have to hide it from me. I might only have two eyes, but I can see clear as day. It’s obvious”
After their quest to Gatto’s cave, Blinky had returned differently. The once blue troll was now…a human.
Y/n straight herself up. She had sensed a shift in Aaarrrgghh behavior but said nothing in fear of overstepping.
“Ever since my human deformity you have been…distant” Blinky complained.
Y/n frowned. She wasn’t expecting that.
“Uh…yes. Distant” the bigger troll nodded.
“I may look different but I’m the same Blinky. How about to cheer you up, maybe later today, I could rent a mini-van we could go for a drive? Something with tinted windows, of course” Blinky offered with excitement. He was desperate to fix the problem that had separated from his friend “I hear we are not too far away from the world’s largest thermometer! I bet you could eat it!”
“Mm, not today” Aaarrrgghh shook his head and left the library.
“Perhaps another time, my dear friend” Blinky said as he watched his friend leave.
“I’m sorry, Blinky” Y/n tapped his shoulder in an attempt to calm his sadness.
Blinky sighed, still looking at the door.
Y/n walked down the stairs of her house in a hurry. She overslept and was late to her shift at the store.
“Hey, m-“ she stopped when she saw Blinky sitting on the couch. She furrowed her brow. Why would the troll be here?
“Oh, good, good. Good afternoon, Mr. President Eisenhower” Blinky said into the phone.
Y/n rolled her eyes “Great cover” she thought.
“I suppose I could pencil you in” he stood up and walked away to a place where Barbara couldn’t hear him.
Y/n stood still at the foot of the stairs, observing Blinky mumbling into his phone.
“Angor Rot is in the school” she heard him say.
She took a deep breath and said “Mr. Blinky, do you need a ride to the school? I could give you one” she already had her hand on the door.
“Oh, yes, yes. Thank you, very much” Blinky nodded nonstop.
They were out the door and in Y/n’s car before Barbara could say something.
She started her old car and prayed for no transit.
“Do you think I could, you know, drive?” Blinky turned to her.
Y/n turned to him. Eyes wide open. She couldn’t believe his timing.
“Not today but someday” he continued.
“No” she stepped on the accelerator.
By the time they got there the fight was over. The police was there making sure all the kids were there.
“Master Jim” Blinky ran to Jim, Toby and Claire.
“Is everyone okay?” Y/n asked “Sorry for the delay. We wanted to help but we had to make a couple bathroom breaks” she gave Blinky a dirty look.
“Oh dear!” Blinky stomach gurgled.
“How did you survive Angor Rot?” Y/n asked ignoring the troll.
“Long story” Jim sighed and turned to where Strickler was standing “Have you heard of the Inferna Copula?”
“Indeed, I have” said Blinky. He and Y/n shared a look after seeing the ring on the changeling’s hands.
“Okay. We wait until he’s asleep” said Jim.
“I use my shadow staff to get us in” added Claire.
“And I ever so gently remove the ring from his finger”
“Woah. Hold up there, Mr. Storyteller. Do changelings even sleep?” Toby interrupted his friend.
“Yes, but we don’t know Strickler’s schedule” Y/n explained through the phone.
The kids were reunited in Claire’s house planning how to steal the Inferna Copula from Strickler, Y/n couldn’t go because she had to make up for being late to her shift.
“Good point. New plan” said Jim “We spike his coffee with extra strength cold medicine.
“I use my shadow staff”
“And I brin my warhammer in case that doesn’t knock him out”
“And I ever so gently…”
“Wait. What if he’s not alone? His office was guarded last time” interrupted Claire.
“Okay, fine. We spike the coffee”
“Shadow staff”
“I use my warhammer to take out his goons”
“Then, I ever so gently remove the ring”
“But what if it doesn’t come off?” Toby interrupted.
“Why would it not come off?” Jim was getting nervous.
“Oh lord” Y/n said to herself.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s glued on, or he added a few pounds” Toby explained his reasoning.
“Why would it be glued on, you dingus?” Claire said.
“You said be ready for every precaution!”
“He’s waking up!” Screamed Claire.
“Oh, how is he waking up? This isn’t even really happening!” Complained Jim.
“Cut off his hand!” Claire screamed again
“What?”
Y/n giggled. She could see the desperation in his brother’s eyes.
“Use your sword. Hurry do it!” Claire insisted.
“No, I’m not gonna cut—“
“Do it! Do it! Before it’s too late”
“Wait!” Y/n stood up.
The man that was still hanging out in the store looked at her.
“Sorry” she whispered. She sat back down and turned to the side so he wouldn’t hear her.
“If you cut his hand you cut mom’s hand too”
“Oh, I forgot. Angor Rot’s binding spell” Jim sighed “We’re not ready. There’s too much risk”
The costumer came up to the register and Y/n had to put her phone down.
“We’ll figured it out, Jim” she said before hanging up.
After the last buyer left, she was finally free. Outside the sun was setting. The sky was a beautiful pink shade. Around this time, the people of Arcadia are already home or on their way, leaving the streets almost empty.
She put the store keys on her bag and stretched her arms, her elbow cracked after holding the phone for so long.
Y/n crossed the street. It’s been three days since she started avoided walking by the library were Douxie worked. She has spent a lot of time with Douxie lately and she was afraid that she was smothering him. Of course, all she wanted was to keep the routine they had the last couple of weeks: go to the library, scratch Archie’s head and hang out with Douxie until his shift at Benoit started and then go home but she was scared it was too much. What if she was too much? Maybe she should give him some space and focus on her training for a while.
Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor to see if the stoplight had changed and saw them. Douxie and the pink haired girl that worked at HexTech, Zoe, they were just a couple steps away from her. Y/n started to get close go them to say hi when he heard him:
“I don’t know how to tell her! I mean, I don’t want to be rude”
“It’s not rude to set a boundary” Zoe replied. She seemed annoyed “If she’s annoying tell her to stop”
“But she has been so nice. I don’t know, Zoe” he scratched his head.
Y/n felt the blood rush to her ears. It couldn’t be.
“Listen, I already told you this last week. Talk to her”
The stoplight shifted and everyone keep walking but Y/n just stood there, watching them leave.
Y/n’s soul had fallen to her knees. She felt her blood stopping in place, her eyes filling up with tears. She felt light-headed. Her heart was broken. She had smothered him and he was too kind to tell her.
A thunder erupted making them stop. The cold rain started to fall. Everyone rushed to get protection except Y/n that stood there, watching the spot where Douxie had told Zoe he didn’t want her
“Are you okay, kid?” An old man holding an umbrella stopped next to her.
“Yes” she sighed. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the now empty spot.
“Let me help you cross the road” the man offered.
She nodded.
The man grabbed her arm and guide her across the street, stopping under the roof of some store so she wouldn’t get more wet.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call anyone?” He put his hand on her shoulder
Y/n lifted her eyes from the floor and looked into the man’s pale blue eyes. He was much taller than her.
“No, but thank you for your kindness” she smiled.
The man smiled back.
“You remind me of my kid. Head always in the clouds” he laughed and left her under the roof.
Y/n got home and went directly to the bathroom. She dropped the wet clothes on the floor and sat in the shower. The hot water melted the sadness off her skin. Her mind was numb. No thought went through her head, just the water hitting her back. She waited for the tears to fall but they never did. Eventually, she gave up and stood up.
When Y/n got out of the shower she stepped on something hard. She lifted her foot and saw her pebble, the pebble that she thought was on her bag.
“Maybe Al dropped it here” she thought, taking the pebble to her chest.
Y/n dragged her feet to her bedroom. Her body didn’t have energy, every single bit of it left through the drain.
Eventually, she dressed up and threw herself into the bed. In the darkness, she felt something or someone stepping on her mattress but she couldn’t care. The void had swallowed her.
“What happened?” Al stood next to her head.
Y/n sighed in response.
“Doesn’t matter” he said as he curled himself next to her neck “Tomorrow is another day” he licked the single tear that had fallen from her cheek.
Y/n opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her room anymore, she was in the woods, the woods that she’s been dreaming all her life.
“Welcome back to the land of the living”
Y/n stretched her arm trying to feel her comforter but she wasn’t in her bed, she was laying on top of a bed of leaves. She turned to look for Al and saw him sleeping next to her feet.
“Do you feel better?” Asked the woman to her right. A shadow was blocking her face but Y/n’s recognised her anyway “A bed made of leaves is no place for a lady like you to sleep”
Y/n didn’t say anything, she could only focus on the woman’s warm hand brushing the leaves away from her hair.
“Everyone is worried about you, Y/n. You can’t keep running to the woods like this”
“That’s not true” Y/n sat up.
“Oh, Y/n of course it is”
“Hisirdoux is not. He told me himself” Y/n crossed her arms.
The woman chuckled, “He is worried the most. Your father had to stop him from running to the wood to look for you!”
Y/n imaged Hisirdoux pout when he was told he couldn’t do something and smiled.
“Look at that smiled” the women tickled Y/n side “You like him”
“I do not” Y/n blushed.
“Young love is so sweet” The women chuckled and pinched the little girl’s cheeks “There is no crime in liking the errand boy”
“Stop it” Y/n’s cheeks darken further.
“I will not until you admit it” the women try to tickle the confession out of Y/n.
“Stop” she laughed.
Y/n lay there in her bed for what felt months yet also felt hours. Her phone stacking with messages yet she wouldn’t answer, she couldn’t even see them in case one of them was Douxie’s.
She heard the news of the destruction of the Inferna Copula in the brief time she met with Jim by the door of the bathroom. He had stopped his rambling when he saw his sister’s lack of response but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a reaction out of her.
One morning, Jim opened the door, his armor on.
“Y/n wake up! I need your help” he shook his sister awake.
“What?” She turned to him.
“Strickler is down stairs hiding from Angor Rot”
“Is this another attempt of getting me out of bed? I told you I am sick” she turned to the wall.
“No, no. Come with me” Jim grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the kitchen.
“Slow down, Jim” the boy had gotten stronger with his training and was almost dragging his sister down the stairs “Why do you have a smelly sock?” Y/n cringed when the smell got to her.
In the kitchen, Strickler was strapped to a chair, sleeping.
“Really?” She rolled her eyes at the view.
“He said Angor Rot was trying to kill him but nothing happened”
Y/n sighed. She didn’t have the patience to deal with the changeling. She took the sock from Jim and dangled in front of his face.
“Ugh! What is that?” Strickler jumped after smelling the rotten sock.
“Wakey, wakey. We survived the night with no sign of Angor Rot. Congratulations” Jim stepped in front of the changeling and took back the sock from his sister’s hand “We thought we’d bring you some breakfast” The boy threw the sock in his face.
“I don’t eat socks” Strickler scoffed “And I don’t appreciate being tied up”
“Cry me a river” Y/n crossed her arms.
“I asked you to protect me not torture me”
“And I said I’d keep you safe, not comfortable” with his sword, Jim cut the rope that was tied to Strickler’s wrists.
“Well, the sun is up. We’ll have until sundown to get me as far away as possible” Strickler rubbed his wrist as he looked through the window.
“Fine. Let me call the team” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie from the counter.
Y/n jumped onto the counter next to her brother.
“Trollhunter to Warhammer, you copy?”
“Oh, goodie. The puberty Patrol is on the case. I feel so safe” Strickler mocked.
Y/n rolled her eyes and stuck her leg up when Strickler started to get to close to Jim but he yanked Jim’s walkie-talkie away anyway.
“Do you think your friends will have any chance against that killer? They’ll be a liability” Jim grabbed the walkie-talkie back while Stickler talked “May I remind you, you destroyed Angor’s soul. He’ll be out for blood, be it yours or theirs”
Y/n took deep breaths, trying to control the anger that started to simmer in her stomach and not hit the changeling right in the face while Jim told his friend to look for information on the last stone.
“Smart choice. For once, you’re learning” Strickler grabbed the empty coffee pot.
“For the record, Angor Rot destroyed his own soul” Jim said giving his teacher the cereal box.
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A/n: hiiii hellooo!! I didn’t forget about the update!! I just had the worst migraine in the world im sorry 💖
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weirdkpopgirl · 1 year
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Bearable | Haechan Imagine #2
Title: Bearable
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Slight Angst, Fluff
Warnings: mentions of insecurities (what else is new?)
Word Count: 705
Author's Note: I honestly have no idea what I was thinking while writing this. This is just a feeling I get often, and I had the sudden urge to put it into words. Am I selfish for subtly writing about myself in basically all of my stories? Yes, and that probably makes me a bad writer. So I'm sorry if it's bad lol.
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
Haechan silently observed you sitting beside him on the sofa. The clock read nine p.m., as the second movie of the night played on the television. Even though your eyes were glued to the screen, he could tell something was distracting you.
He knew by the way you were chewing on your lips and the way your fingers subconsciously dug into your palms. It only took one look at your nervous composure for Haechan to know that your mind was far away from whatever was happening in the movie.
“You’re going to tear off your skin if you keep doing that.” He scolded lightly, drawing your attention to him in slight alarm.
You looked down in guilt when he opened your hand to see the red indents from your nails. Your brain scrambled with something to say as he softly rubbed your palm. The stinging slowly began to fade.
“Care to share what’s on your mind?” Haechan asked, glancing up at you.
The softness in his eyes made you instantly tear up. You knew staying up all night with your best friend was a bad idea. All your senses seemed to shut off after 8:30, leaving you completely vulnerable.
“I just…” You started to say, looking away to blink back tears. “Seeing the couple in the film…just makes me sad.”
He half-chuckled at your cuteness, “Why does it make you sad?” 
Haechan was the only person who saw this side of you. Not the (Y/n) who was always smiling in front of their friends, pretending as if her life wasn’t falling apart. Not the (Y/n) who casually belittled herself in conversations laced with sarcasm and dark humor. No, Haechan saw the (Y/n) who had a weak and sensitive heart. 
“I really want to experience a love like theirs,” You said, breath shaky. “But I’m afraid it’ll never happen to me.”
“Why?”
“I mean, just look at me Hyuck. I’m a mess.” The bitter smile that appeared across your face made his heart crack. You spoke with such certainty.
“Seriously, I can’t think of one reason why you like me,” You sniffed.
Haechan was slightly taken aback by what you said. After four years of keeping it in, he finally confessed his feelings for you a few weeks ago. He made it clear that he didn’t expect an answer from you right away and would wait. Since then, the two of you went on and acted like it never happened. He didn’t expect you to bring the confession up now.
After a few moments, Haechan spoke up. “You may not like your hair or your body. You may not like the mole on your nose that you hide with your glasses. You may not like the stories you pour your heart and soul into. You may turn down any compliment that someone gives you.”
You met his eyes which also became watery. Just thinking about how poorly you saw yourself made Haechan’s heart hurt. That was how much he cared about you.
“But when I look at you,” He continued. “All I see is a smart and beautiful girl who doesn’t realize how strong she is. I love everything that you don’t like about yourself.”
His other hand reached over to catch the tears that streamed down your cheeks. 
“I love you, (Y/n). And I’ll happily spend the rest of my life giving you the love you deserve if you’ll let me.” 
His words were so warm and promising. There was no one in the world like Lee Donghyuck.
“I love you too,” You said through tears. It felt so good to say that out loud, after holding back because of your insecurities.
Immediately after that sentence, Haechan kissed you ever so gently. With one hand in your hair and the other around your waist, pulling you close to him. His touch gradually allowed the troublesome thoughts to temporarily fade away. You knew that they would come back another day. But all the darkness in your life was bearable as long as you had Haechan by your side.
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
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purpleyoonn · 1 year
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baby (you complete us)
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P R E V I E W: C H A P T E R  1  
summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,
pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC
warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan
Some warnings may be added to the beginning of individual chapters.
masterlist // taglist
@imnotlauriane​​ @mageprincess7​​ @m1sss1mp​​ @0funsite0​​  @strawberry-moonpies​​ @this-isthe-way​​ @singukieee​​ @btsw1fe​​ @gooooomz​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​ @carolinexkpop​​ @agusfree​​ @sakurarukas​​ @iamkookiesforyou​​ @skyys-universe​​ @toughbook​​ @plutoneu​​ @whisperssuga​​ ​ @yourleftsock​​ @cryingpages​​ @strxwbloody​​  @drissteele​​  @dustyinkpages​​​ @crushedblackroses​​ @blaaiissee​​ @whisperssuga​​ @welcometomyworld13​​  @osakis-gf @kawaiikpoplover268 @violetpenguinkris @blackrockshooter780 @promiseokza @yuzon3​​ @wittyreader​​ @jnghs​​ @cyd0129​​ @exfolitae​​  @iiitsmaria​​   @azazel-nyx​​  @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​​ @knjkitten​​ @kleirielk​​ @foreverweareyoung7​​ @lachimolala22019​​ @namuficxs​​ @94z-93​​ @kimgmzmc​​ @thenaverse​​ 
COMING FRIDAY, FEB. 3RD: 5PM PST
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You were a bridesmaid, right behind her own sister, the maid of honor. You were like a sister to Anna, having grown up with her and her family. But you never felt so out of place, like you didn’t belong as you stood there.
You were beyond happy for Anna and Chris, love in your heart for them as you witness their love for each other. But you couldn’t help but to feel your own heart break at the sight.
Your soulmates didn’t want you; it was the only conclusion you could think of. Ten years, ten years of knowing that you have seven soulmates out there.
“Thank you so much for being here with me!” Anna spoke to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. 
You were having a good day, not needing your cane but having it sat by your assigned seat just in case. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be in the wedding when she asked you, but knowing how happy she was, you said yes.
“I’m glad I got to be a part of your special day.” You smiled back, hoping she didn’t see the small sadness in your eyes. Anna nodded in response; just glad you were happy. 
She knew how hard your life had been in the past couple years, and she loved seeing the smile on your face whenever it happened. She wanted you to be happy always, never having to feel pain again.
“I can’t wait until you get to marry your soulmates. I will be right here for you, doing everything I can to make your day just as special.” She hugged you again before being called away for more pictures of the family, the bridesmaids and groomsmen being dismissed. While you smiled at your friend, you could feel the tears building.
You wouldn’t get that day, and you knew it.
Fate was determined to see you cry, and this only cemented your decision.
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