Warnings: language, mention of injuries, mention of stitches
A/N: You guys want more - you got it! Hope you like it, and there will be at least a few more parts that I’ve got planned. Beta and general life credit to my twin @deanssweetheart23 for reading everything and putting up with me
Summary | saying “I’m okay” doesn’t mean it’s true.
You had promised to yourself and to him in the beginning of the relationship that you would understand the obstacles the two of you would have to face. The obstacles set out were much different than any average relationships. In an average relationship, no one had to practice all day and night. No one had to hide their relationships. No one had to leave for tour for countless days, weeks, even months.
But as time progressed, your promise started becoming harder and harder to keep.
The first incident was after the ending of his world tour, when he returned back home to you. You thought that with the tour out of the way, you’d have plenty of time to make small cute stay-at-home dates like how you two used to have before all the fame. But you were wrong.
After his long departure abroad for 6 months, there was a comeback awaiting the members of the band, including him as well. It didn’t seem fair though, a comeback right after a large world tour? But it could be your tiny selfish excuse for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend.
After sending countless messages asking if he was free, you received a message saying something along the lines of, “I’m busy practicing.” Not that it was wrong, practicing for a comeback, it was part of their world; a world you didn’t know, but promised to try and follow along with.
After not receiving a message back from you, he sent another one. “We have a comeback planned. You understand right? You’re not angry are you?” Staring at the words sent, you didn’t know how to reply.
Biting down on your bottom lip, a habit out of nervousness, you pressed the ‘send’ button. “I’m okay.”
The second incident may have been your fault, but who could blame you? How else would you have felt if your boyfriend had a day off and decided to choose to practice like how he did the whole week?
“Hey Jimin,” You remember hesitantly asking. You two were at your shared apartment, you fidgeting and playing with your fingers and him sprawled across the sofa tiredly. Hearing him humming in acknowledgement, you spoke the words that you have been wanting to ask all week. “The boys told me you were free tomorrow. Since you have no schedule, wanna go do something?”
As if almost instantly, Jimin sat up. “Sorry (Y/N),” You felt your heart drop. “But I want to practice a bit more for the comeback. I can’t let down the fans.” He cocked his head to the side, elbowed propped up on his thighs, looking up at you.
You stared down at your fingers in disappointment where you stood. Hearing Jimin call you, you lifted your head up a bit. “(Y/N),” Your name rolled off his tongue easily. “Are you okay with it? Becau-”
Softly sighing, you forced your best smile. “I’m okay with it.”
“Are you sure?”
“No no, you should practice for the comeback. I know how important it is to you and the rest of the boys as well.” You repeated these words in your mind, trying to convince yourself you weren’t feeling the feelings you were feeling, maybe you could trick yourself into thinking that you didn’t miss your boyfriend these past long months,
“You shouldn’t let down your fans, you’re an idol.” You spoke solemnly, the ends of your lips curling up into a small smile. You were lucky enough to be dating an idol, you should remember that. “Don’t tire yourself out too much, alright?”
Staring at him, you hesitantly turned away and went to your room. Back pressed up against the wall, you sat on the cold wooden floor for him to leave. To leave for practice, again.
You couldn’t help but feel lonely and somewhat jealous of the girls that were dating the rest of Bangtan. They always made time for their girlfriends, unlike Jimin. Maybe you were selfish, wanting more in your relationship but you always felt the tingly jealousy thinking about what they could be doing with their girlfriends.
Like today, they took the day off, just like how they’re supposed to, instead of practicing or staying in the studios. Every time you imagine what you could be doing, your heart aches.
You could’ve been cooking together, just like Jin and his girlfriend. Cuddling in bed. Having a dance battle even if you would always lose. Watching movies. Going to the arcade even if it meant being caught in their disguises. Or maybe even just go to the park together.
Hearing the front door click, the whole apartment was silent. The only sound was that of your tears threatening to spill, finally being freed.
The third time it happened, was the last time it happened. And that’s because there wasn’t going to be a fourth time, nor a fifth time. There would be no more times.
You were doing your best keeping calm, but as the minutes ticked by, the clock ticking and tocking had somewhat drove you insane. The longer you sat there on the couch, gripping at your own hands, the more done with the entire situation.
The doorknob jiggling, the front door opens, revealing the person you had been waiting on for hours. He had promised you a home date to make up for all the times he missed with you, promising that he’d be home at 7, sharing the night of candlelit dinner with you.
Well that went nowhere, it was already 10.
Your eyes fell on Jimin’s figure, his eyes darting around the apartment, looking anywhere but your eyes. “Jimin,” You tried keeping a calm facade, pretending as if you weren’t more than just upset at the fact not only was he late, but the fact that he broke his promise and blew away the chance he had at making it up to you. “What time is it?”
A wave of nervousness and underlying guilt washed over him. He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, mumbling out his answer hesitantly. “10.”
“What were you doing during the time you promised to be home by?” You could tell he was getting more nervous. He looked at you, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his that you’ve learned he had. “I was…practicing.”
You snapped, your seemingly calm facade fading even though Jimin already knew you were steaming. “Again?!” He flinched at your loudness. “Why were you practice when you promised me you’d be home for dinner? The dinner you said you’d make it back in time for?”
“(Y/N), l-let me explain okay? I was just practice and,” His words drifted off as if he didn’t want to tell you. “And?” You huffed, arms around your hips, weight on your right leg. You were impatient. The faster he spits it out the faster it’s over.
“I just lost track of time, o-okay?” He sighed, raking his hand through his locks. “Jimin,” He hesitantly looked up, scared of what you were going to say.
“When was the last time we had a date?” You croaked, tried of his excuses. You knew he didn’t know the answer, that’s because you didn’t either. That’s know long it’s been. Your last date together could’ve been 8 months ago, who knows? “I….I don’t know.”
You bit your lip. You hated what you were going to say but it had to be done. You could handle the loneliness and neglect of your relationship anymore. Rather you, it was your heart that couldn’t handle another crack. “I’m sorry,” Jimin’s head shot up, eyes widened in alarm. “Look, I don’t think this is going to wor-”
“Y-You’re not serious right?” He stuttered, hoping it was some lame prank and that you were doing this just to scare him. “Right?” He repeated, urging, pleading you with his eyes to say it was all a joke, that you weren’t serious, that you weren’t going to give up on your neglected relationship.
“I’m…not.” You looked away, not wanting to see the look on his face. “I think it’s best if we broke things off.” Looking up back at your boyfriend, now technically ex, instantly regretting your decision. His eyes were glossed, bottom lip quivering. “You’re always busy with practice and touring and I’m always waiting here at home for you. I can’t do that anymore, my heart can’t handle anymore pain.”
“It’ll be less stressful if you didn’t have to think about me during practice. You’re an idol Jimin,” You forced out a smile. “You’re always going to be busy, and if not busy then tired. Just forget about me, alright? Focus on your career without me.”
Giving Jimin a small smile, you lowered your head and walked by him, stopping by your room to bring out your already packed suitcase. “I was never okay Jimin.” And with that and the click of the door’s lock, you walked out of his life, fast enough to not show your tears but slow enough to catch a glimpse of his.
Seraphine’s eyes fluttered open. The trees above her swayed in the wind, the sun already set high in the sky. She was pleasantly warm, laying on her side wrapped in a thick midnight blue cloak, it’s scent so comforting, so familiar that it almost felt like a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. Seraphine was out of the mines, she was safe, she was free. She twisted, running her fingers between Fen’s thick fur. Kastiel came back for her. He had saved— Seraphine sat up at the sound of movement near her. “Who are you?” she demanded. The fae in front of her didn’t look familiar. He was tall, crowned with dark hair and dark skin. He seemed a little surprised at her voice, the expression sitting unusually on his beautiful, elegant face. “I’m Azriel,” he says, dropping a log of wood on top of a stack near his feet. “Kastiel’s uncle.” Seraphine studied Azriel. He wore black leathers, with blue jewels adorning different parts of his body. Nothing about him seemed even remotely similar to what Kastiel looked like. Except for the wings. Though Azriel’s was noticeably wider and grander in size. “Azriel?” she asked slowly, dragging out all the syllables of his name, “And… Kastiel?” Seraphine was awarded with a breathtaking smile from Azriel, and she sensed, in a way she only could, how rare this smile was. “I like to say that he was named after me,” he said thoughtfully, arranging the logs on the ground to form a makeshift campfire. “Though Cassian would say otherwise.” Seraphine stared at the pile of logs, before looking around at her surroundings. “He’s by the stream,” Azriel points out. “He’s been worried about you, and he’ll be glad you’re awake.” “Thank you,” she replies. “Seraphine,” he says before she could leave, “are you alright?” She meets his hazel eyes. “I’m fine.” Azriel gives her a small nod in reply, as if he knew, exactly how she was feeling—that she bore no visible scars, but the hurt ran deeper than skin and bones. “Could you please?” he asks, gesturing to the unlit campfire. Seraphine ignited it with a brush of her hand.
REQUEST:Stiles x reader with late night conversations.
“Hello?” A deep voice said through the phone. “Did I wake you?” (Y/N) asked. “No.” Stiles replied, suppressing a yarn. “Liar.” (Y/N) chuckled. It was late at night and (Y/N) couldn’t sleep. Like most nights, (Y/N) wouldn’t dare close her eyes knowing that nightmares would come and haunt her in her sleep. So, instead of waiting around and drowning in her own thoughts, she would always call the same person – her best friend since kindergarten, Stiles Stilinski. “Can you come over?” (Y/N) asked the boy while bitting her nails. “Is everything okay? Are you alright?” Stiles asked, concerned. “Yeah. I just can’t sleep.” (Y/N) mumbled. “I know it’s nothing, so it’s okay if you don’t wanna come over.” She added. She felt bad for depriving her best friend of sleep just because she couldn’t get any. She knew it wasn’t fair. But she also knew that Stiles wouldn’t mind, because she had done the same thing for him many times. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” Stiles declared before he hung up the phone. (Y/N) was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and greeted Stiles with a bear hug. “Thank you.” (Y/N) mumbled into his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? I think you might have a fever.” Stiles chuckled as he pressed his cold hand on (Y/N)’s forehead before she gently pushed it away. “What? So I can’t hug my best friend now?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Of course you can. It’s just, you’ve never been the hugging type.” Stiles declared as he walked into his best friend’s house. He frowned. “What’s that smell?” He asked before (Y/N) could react to his last statement. “I’m making pancakes.” (Y/N) said proudly as she walked into the kitchen and sat on the counter. Stiles stood before her. He has always been taller than her, so, even when (Y/N) was sat on her kitchen counter, Stiles was still a few inches taller than her. “(Y/N), it’s one in the morning.” Stiles frowned. “So? I told you I couldn’t sleep. Cooking makes me feel better. It’s relaxing.” (Y/N) shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. Stiles let out a small laugh before a serious expression appeared on his face. “Are you having nightmares again?” He asked, his brown eyes set on (Y/N)’s. “And remember that I can tell when you’re lying.” He added seriously. “Fine.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she came down of the kitchen counter to check on the pancakes. “Yes, I’m having nightmares again. That’s why I’m really determined to keep my eyes open tonight.” Stiles went to stand next to her. His eyes never leaving her. He was still frowning. “(Y/N). You know you’re gonna have to sleep eventually.” Stiles told his best friend. He remembered when (Y/N) had to check herself in the hospital last year for sleep deprivation. “Stiles, I’m fine, really.” (Y/N) replied. Stiles didn’t look convinced but he didn’t want to make his best friend angry, so he changed the subject. “Where is your dad?” Stiles asked while helping (Y/N) put the finished pancakes into a plate. “He is working late tonight.” (Y/N) said. “He’s been taking a lot of night shifts at the hospital lately.” She added. (Y/N)’s father was a surgeon at Beacon Hills Memorial, where Scott’s mother worked as a nurse. Stiles knew that (Y/N)’s father was less and less present at home lately, and he hated the fact that his best friend was alone most nights, especially if she started having nightmares again. That’s why he was always willing to come over when she asked him to, even if it was in the middle of the night.
“Hey! That’s not fair! You’re always the one who chooses the movie!” (Y/N) complained while Stiles was sat on the floor next to a pile of DVDs. “That’s because you have awful tastes when it comes to movies.” Stiles retorted. “That’s not true! We like the same stuff!” (Y/N) replied as she let her body fell onto her bed. “Then shut up and let me choose.” Stiles laughed. “Fine.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and took a bite of a fresh-cooked pancake. “And don’t eat all the pancakes.” Stiles declared and threw a pillow at (Y/N). “Hey!” “Okay, found one!” Stiles ignored (Y/N)’s complaints about receiving a pillow in the face and inserted the DVD he picked into the DVD player. Then he went to sit on the bed next to his best friend, grabbing a pancake as he did so. (Y/N), who made herself another cup of coffee, went to drink it when Stiles got a hold of the mug and set it on the bedside table next to him. “Seriously? I asked you if you wanted a cup and you said no.” (Y/N) declared. “I don’t want coffee and you should stop drinking so much of it at three in the morning.” Stiles stated, looking at the TV. “Please stop acting like that.” There was a hint of anger in the girl’s voice which made Stiles’s eyes set on her. “Like what?” He frowned. “Like I might die any second.” “I’m just worried about you. What’s wrong with that?” Stiles said defensively. “What’s wrong is that I asked you to come over to make me feel better, not worse. I won’t sleep, okay? I won’t let the nightmares ruin my life again. You don’t know how horrible it is to see the people you love die in front of you everytime you close your eyes. It’s messing with my head!” (Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so familiar with those nightmares by now that it feels like reality. And I hate feeling like this.” (Y/N) expected Stiles to yell at her, to tell her that she was being ridiculous because she knew she was. She knew she had to put herself together and stop being so afraid of falling asleep. But instead, Stiles pulled her against his chest and closed his arms around her small body. She didn’t cry, she just closed her eyes and appreciated how safe she felt in Stiles’s arms. “I’m sorry.” She declared. “Don’t be.” Stiles said as he stroked her hair. “I’m here for you. Always.” He let go of her and looked at her. She looked very tired and he wished he could do something to help her feel better. “If there is anything I can do to help-” “Stay.” She cut him off. “Can you stay the night, please?” “Sure. I’m not going anywhere.” Stiles declared and he kissed her forehead.
“This movie sucked.” (Y/N) confessed while watching the closing credits of the movie Stiles had chose to watch an hour earlier. “Do you ever stop complaining?” He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t so terrible.” He shrugged. “Right. As if I couldn’t tell that you didn’t like it either.” (Y/N) laughed. “Fine. It wasn’t as good as I remembered it.” Stiles confessed. “But still, I’ve seen worse.” He added, yarning. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and tried to suppress a smile. She got up and picked up the empty plate and her now cold cup of coffee and put it on her desk, too lazy to go down to the kitchen. “You can sleep in my bed, I don’t mind.” (Y/N) stated when she saw Stiles got up from the bed. “Are you sure?” Stiles frowned. (Y/N) turned around to face her best friend, she raised an eyebrow. “Stiles, we’ve slept in the same bed before.” “We were ten.” Stiles added. “Well, I mean, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I can still-” “No.” Stiles interrupted. “I mean, are you comfortable with it?” He asked, nervously. “Of course, I am. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” (Y/N) laughed a little. Stiles nodded.
(Y/N) was already wearing her night clothes – a short and oversized t-shirt which originally belonged to her father. Stiles was wearing his tracksuit and a black t-shirt but didn’t seem to mind sleeping fully dressed. He crawled under the warm blanket and made himself comfortable. (Y/N) was still standing by her desk, reluctant to go to sleep even if Stiles’s presence made her feel safer. But she knew that even her best friend was unlikely to protect her from her own dreams. She looked at the clock, it was now half past four in the morning and she knew that she had ran out of options or excuses to stay awake. “It’s okay, (Y/N).” Stiles said while he watched his best friend staying still on the other side of the room. (Y/N) sighed and laid down on the other side of the bed. She was staring at the ceiling while Stiles was staring at her. “We can keep talking if it makes you feel better.” Stiles said. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you awake, you must be exhausted. It was already selfish of me to ask you to come over again so late at night. I’ll just let you sleep now.” (Y/N) declared as she nervously played with her fingers. “Okay, so, what do you want to talk about?” Stiles asked. “Stiles-” “I will not go to sleep until you do.” The boy said, serious. “Are you blackmailing me?” “No, I’m being here for you.” Stiles corrected. (Y/N)’s eyes moved from the ceiling to her best friend. The lamps on her bedside tables were still lit and Stiles saw his friend frowning. “What did I do to deserve you?” She asked, honestly wondering how Stiles never got tired of her after all these years. “You hung out with me in kindergarten when everyone but Scott thought I was a weirdo.” Stiles said with a smile. “You are a weirdo.” (Y/N) laughed. “So are you. That’s why we get along so well.” He replied.
(Y/N) looked at him for a second. Then, she moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest as he closed his arms around her body once more. He was surprised when he found her hugging him again and he realised how much she needed it – because she never was a big hugger. “Promise me you’ll never leave me. I don’t know what I would do without you, Stiles.” (Y/N) murmured. “I promise. Besides, I need you more than you need me.” The teenage boy said as his grip tighten around (Y/N)’s small body. “Yeah, I doubt that.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Shut up.” Stiles said sarcastically. They both laughed. (Y/N) started to feel her eyelids become heavy. Her eyes had been burning with fatigue all night and she wanted to let herself drift to sleep without thinking about what horrible things she would see once asleep. The last thing she felt was Stiles’s lips on her head and the last thing she heard was her best friend telling her that he loved her. She wanted to say it back but no word left her lips as she felt the darkness surround her and her demons take control of her thoughts.
She had fallen asleep, and once again, she wished she hadn’t.
A/N: Really liked this request. Kinda made it into my own though. (Not sure to write more for this, I might?
Depends on the feedback I guess.)
uneasy when he took one of the seats in the circle. They had put fluffy red
pillows on the seats, some softness to make up for their fucked up experiences.
Wonderful how naïve people could be… as if that’d help. He took a look at the
other people, they seemed about as happy to be there as him. Probably persuaded or
blackmailed into seeking help as well. He hadn’t even needed such desperate measures: anything to stop Dick’s constant nagging. “ You have to give yourself the
chance to heal.” (He felt like he healed up well enough, ya know, for a dead
guy his skin looked fantastic.), “
You will be able to meet people who share your experience .” (Zombie friends.
Exactly what he needed.) And last but
not least: Damian’s addition that he didn’t even need hubris to bring him down
just a crowbar. Eventually he grew tired of it and decided to go. He was barely there in time, but he was there. After him, a woman
barged in, a lot less nonchalant than he had. Backpack in hand, and saying
‘sorry’ to the person who seemed to be the guiding speaker/psychologist. The woman had a certain kind of guilt in her eyes as she was saying it, too. The psychologist immediately said it was no problem with a warm smile, as
the other latecomer took the free seat across his.
You were still out of breath. Traffic was terrible as is but it got so much worse as you were trying to keep a busy schedule to forget about all the other shit that went
wrong. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea, whether it would even remotely
help you to actually throw it all out on the table. But… you could use talking
to someone about this who wouldn’t look at you with pity while they were uncomfortably
shifting in their chair. Everyone here had their fair share of emotional scars
to get them to this place. You scanned the room while a woman started to talk.
“ Each of you is here because you are battling the aftermath of dark period in
your lives. Someone has abused you, and you are here with people who have
experienced abuse as well. Speaking is part of the healing process. Knowing you
are not to blame for what happened to you is the aim. I will give each of you
the chance to talk about what happened. You choose how much you feel
comfortable sharing. Please be respectful towards one another and allow the
others to talk, and tell their story, they…” the rest of the explanation was
lost on you entirely. You felt eyes on you, and noticed the man across the
room. Jet black hair with a white streak, icy blue eyes and quite frankly
possibly the most handsome man you had seen in a very long time. But from all
places to develop a crush on a total stranger, this was probably not the best
on your surroundings again when people were starting to share their names. Only
one name stuck. His. “ Hi, I’m Jason. I’ve been told I may be suffering from PTSD
after being kidnapped and tortured.” After him another person spoke and also
shared their name and in one sentence why they chose to be here. The man smiled
at you and you weren’t sure how to respond with that so you looked anywhere but at him.
“ My name is y/n. I was ..” You swallowed, not entirely having such an easy
time to say what happened with all those eyes on you. You naturally started to
look at him again. He gave you an encouraging small nod and somehow you managed to continue. “ I was
physically and emotionally abused by my ex.”
Something seemed to flare up in his eyes at those words. Not the usual
pity. Not the usual shifting eyes trying to find the nearest exit. Anger. Not directed at you but at someone who
wasn’t there. You wondered if it was the man who kidnapped him or your ex. As he only got that look in his eyes after your story you could only guess the second… but why would he get that angry over that? He didn’t even know you… you shook the thought and listened to the other stories. Some people had come here before, but they seemed there to show the beginners that recovery was possible. After everyone had been spoken to, she asked
who wanted to share their story with the group. Everyone seemed less than
interested to go first.
“ ‘C mon, nobody will judge you here, we’re all here to listen and to talk.” Her
glance landed on you. “Could you perhaps…?” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat and tried to swallow. This was too soon. All those eyes on you… when you opened your mouth the
handsome stranger, Jason, spoke up instead.
“ Sure, I’ll go first.” Everyone in the room knew damn well she had been
talking to you. But you were grateful he took her cue instead so you didn’t have to. He
was still speaking to you rather than
to the group.
“I was kidnapped as a teenager. A typical Gotham psycho got to me and tortured
me. They… got to me in time, obviously, I’m still alive.” He seemed to
disbelieve those words and said them mockingly. “.. but I’ve been beaten with a
crowbar and he played psychological tricks on me, I don’t want to get into detail.
He tortured me in most ways I could imagine and then some, except for sexually
that is. It pisses me off that he’s still alive. As long as he lives he’s a
danger to people. They didn’t put enough effort into stopping him. In the
meanwhile… I have to deal with the fallout. The flashbacks, the nightmares. So essentially I got fucked over by the people I trusted,
because they did not protect me as they promised me they would, and then there’s the fact I was beaten to a
pulp. So yeah, that’s my sob story. Well, half of it. There’s also my deadbeat
dad and my the fact that my mother didn’t make it beyond my teenage years but
that’s a story for another day kids.“ His voice was laced with a mocking, devil may care attitude, but you could tell it was the truth. You were the one staring now, your gaze locked on
his. He really had been through hell and back. The woman nodded and thanked him
for his open-heartedness and willingness to speak first. After him, the others
were more willing to also speak up. He mouthed ‘You’re welcome’ to you as you gave him a grateful small smile.
You felt lucky that they ran out of time before it was your turn. Each person
who did not get the chance to speak would get their chance the next session.
With that promise, you considered not attending that next time anymore. You put your own jacket
back on, as well as your backpack and headed towards the door. As soon as you
stepped outside you felt something was off. Something or someone was watching
you. Jason, you did remember his name, walked out of the door and approached
you and acted casual while zipping up his jacket. “ Don’t panic but I’ve got the feeling someone is watching you.”
“ So I’m not going mad?”
“ No guarantees there. We might be going mad together. I know you don’t know me but will you
let me walk you home? ” You looked him in the eyes. You really wanted to say
“ No, sorry. It’s not you it’s just…”
“ I get it. Don’t worry about it. Just…” He handed you what looked like a
combat knife. “ be careful.” ” May I ask why you’re carrying out spare combat knives to hand out?” ” Do you want to know?” You swallowed. ” Next session maybe.” ” Let’s make sure you get there safely first. Watch your back. Something’s out there, I can feel it.”
You walked on and heard something again. Something creeping up on you as sudden but as clinging as a shadow. You clutched the combat knife as you walked to
your car. Someone grabbed you from the back and knocked the knife out of your
hands. “You think you could get away
from him that easily sweetheart?” There was a hand on your mouth, muffling noise while you struggled to get away from the man’s grip. You were considering your options, trying to remember how to twist your arm when someone interfered.
“ I think she fucking can.” The man who grabbed you was looking into the barrel
of a gun. A red hooded man stood there.
“ Get out of here. She’s under my protection now. Come after her again and I will
find you. “ A flash of recognition went
over the guy’s face as he ran for it. You thought you heard someone curse and a
shiver went over your spine. He lowered his gun, picked up the combat knife and
walked over to you. He handed the knife back to you with the hilt pointed at
you while you rubbed your wrist and leaned against the car door, shaken up. You instinctively clung to him, as a means to stabilize you from the shock and get you up straight more than anything else.
“ Jason?” Anyone else didn’t make sense. You weren’t sure if he’d even speak up.
“ Good guess.”
“ I changed my mind. ” He nodded and walked behind you towards your car.
“ It’s him. “ You
hissed in a quiet tone.
“ Figured as much. Want me to get into the car or can you handle it from here?
Does he know where you live?”
“ Yeah, haven’t found a new place yet.” He nodded. ” Want me to join you there? Keep you safe? If you trust me that is. “ ” Yeah. I do. “ He got into the car, looked around and took off the helmet once he was inside of the vehicle.
“ What about the motorcycle?”
“ I’ll pick it up after we got you home safely.”
The car ride was considerably silent. You weren’t sure what to ask him or tell
him. He leaned with his elbow on the armrest of the car door.
“ He seemed to recognize you.”
“ He probably did. I’m not your average guy. But I don’t hurt people unless it’s
to save others.”
You opted to just take his word for it. There was something strangely soothing
about having him around. You had this feeling that you could trust him, which
you in all honestly hadn’t ever had before. But you weren’t sure whether to
trust your instincts anymore.
“How did you stop the nightmares?”
“ I didn’t.”
You swallowed. “ I get it you know. “ He looked up, slightly frowning, unsure
what you meant. “I get that you want to kill him. That’s what you meant isn’t
it? But it wouldn’t fix the broken pieces. “ You stared at the road ahead,
lights flashing by. You continued. “You know what they told me? That hating him
wouldn’t heal me, loving another might and it would break him. Because it would
show him he didn’t own me anymore.”
“ What do you think about that?” You shook your head at his question.
“ I think I couldn’t if I tried. Not that easy to trust anymore.”
“ You can. It’s fear that’s holding you back. It’s what he wants.”
“ You think
he’s gone? That he will stay away now?” He shook his head.
“ You could stay with me instead. Until you find a new place. No expectations,
I won’t try anything with you. Could teach you how not to get disarmed so
easily.” He sighed. “ I can protect you there, if you think you need
“ So what are you? A cop?”
“ Not quite. But I don’t want you to get hurt and after what happened tonight…”
“ I might take you up on that offer.”
“ Okay, then turn right here. “
use a protector, or at least someone who understood who didn’t look at you as a
work in progress when you were putting the pieces back together.
“ But there
are some things you gotta know about me before you get into my apartment…”
pairing: jeon ungkook | reader genre: angst, slight fluff, smut, ex-boyfriend!au word count: 17k warnings: use of alcohol, mild language, sexual scenes (smut) summary: it’s the small, quirky details that help you remember how much you loved him despite it being years since you’ve seen each other, or make you realize that maybe, you had never really stopped loving him in the first place.
A Sunday afternoons finds you lounging on Jungkook’s sofa, feet on top of his coffee table with a bowl of popcorn sitting on your lap. The TV plays a rerun of one of your favorite dramas that you’ve watched probably ten times already. It’s a slow weekend, there’s nothing for you to do when you don’t have work. You’ve mindlessly walked around the apartment in search of something to do when the guest room was starting to feel boring. You even tried to cook, using the ingredients Jungkook has in his fridge that you know he’s never going to use. You tried remaking your mother’s soup recipe, the one she always made you and you loved so much way before you left for Australia, but that was a bust since you’re cooking skills are highly questionable and you got lazy halfway through.
Summary: You try to move on after you, Ned, and Michelle decided to stop talking to Peter. But Peter does not want to be forgotten.
Warnings: language, I think. I’m not sure. this one is pretty mellow.
Requested: yep, by lots of people. that and I wanted to write more for it.
A/N: Well, well, well… Look at this! I’m posting part 2! a month later, but it’s fine. ugh. I’m really sorry for the long wait you guys. and it’s not even that good of a chapter. that’s part 3. that one will be killer. Anyway, thank you for kindly waiting for so long, and I’ll try not to make time stretch between now and when i post part 3. enjoy! (i am so tired. i’m having issues spelling. i’m sleeping after i post this)
In the three months since that day you, Michelle,
and Ned stopped talking to Peter, you three had noticed how Peter’s personality
did a complete 180. His once sweet and shy disposition that you’d fallen for turned
into a brash, cocky, self-centered asshole. He quickly became one of the cool
kids that always had a flock of people surrounding him… When he would show up. He
rarely showed up, but when he did, everyone went insane. No one seemed to care
that he was a menace to everyone, thinking he was entitled to whatever he
You three watched in awe as he seemed to be with half
the school population in those two months. The fact that he was with both boys
and girls didn’t surprise you and Ned; Peter had told you that he was bisexual
back when you were in 7th grade, and all Michelle did when Peter
first showed that he was with a guy, was raise her eyebrows and go back to her
book. What did surprise you and Ned, was the fact that he was so blatant about
it. Your mind often flashbacked to the
rants Peter would get into about the disregard people had about Bisexuality- how
he wasn’t greedy or promiscuous. Yet here he was, doing just that…
Peter never once texted you, Ned, or Michelle during
those three months and it felt like your chest was an open wound, bleeding
every time you saw him… Or looked at the texts you shared… Or even thought of
him. In the beginning, you would stay up late, unable to sleep as you thought
about Peter and tried not to give into the urge to text him, or call him.
Ned and Michelle, realizing his words hurt you
differently than it did them, did their best to cheer you up and distract you,
and it helped, but you still missed the boy you fell in love with. After a
month of mourning, you slowly got back to your usual self. It didn’t hurt to
look at him now, and it didn’t feel weird at lunch without him. You were
healing. You all were.
In those three months, you, Michelle, and Ned became
better friends. Before you guys were close, but after everything with Peter,
you became inseparable. It was nice
being able to talk to them about the crush you had on Peter, after holding it
in for as long as you did. And after two
and a half months of dealing with Peter the Asshole, you broached the subject
of Peter’s odd behavior while you three where having one of your many
“So…” You start, waiting until both MJ and Ned were
looking at you before continuing, “What do you think brought on Peter’s sudden
change in personality?”
Ned and MJ exchange a look before looking back at you.
“I don’t know, Y/N, maybe he just decided to show
his true self?” Ned said uncertainly, looking like he didn’t believe it.
“There’s no way.
I’ve known him since we were both five.
He’s always been super caring and compassionate.” You gulp, looking down
at the ground, “That boy that goes by Peter Parker is not the one I know.”
You practically feel MJ roll her eyes and avoid eye
contact, bracing yourself for what she’s about to say.
“Y/N… You’ve got to let him go. It doesn’t matter
why he’s acting the way he is. He’s not our problem anymore.” She firmly
You glance up, and seeing the looks on both Ned and
MJ’s face, looks of pity and discomfort, you, try to defend yourself, “I know
that! I know. I just… Want answers, alright? That’s all.”
You hear Ned sigh, “And maybe someday Peter will
give you those answers. But for now, just let it go. There are other things
that should worry you. Like homework, and friends. Not Peter.” You look down at
your lap, frustrated, but choose to drop the subject, knowing you wouldn’t get
anywhere with them at the moment.
You try to think of something else to talk about to
get rid of the slightly awkward silence when Spider-Man’s black suit comes to
mind, making your lips turn up into a smirk, “Hey, did you guys see
Spider-Man’s new suit? A little emo, dontcha think?” Which causes Michelle to
roll her eyes, knowing exactly what you were trying to do, but gives in and
starts talking about it. You focus on
her, completely missing Ned’s face of unease.
@avengerstories - you deserve all the best things in life (Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, front row seats to Hamilton, etc.) for always helping me :)
Everyone says that you learn new things about yourself when you go away to college. When you heard this, you assumed that people were talking about studying habits and the people you surrounded yourself with. Picking a major you loved or choosing a career path to follow. You didn’t think it meant discovering your penchant for excessively cleaning when stressed.
The first time it happened, you were freaking out over the results of a midterm. Instead of going out like your friends did, you stayed at your dorm and cleaned everything. By the time Natasha, your roommate at the time, returned home, your side of the room was spotless.
The next time it occurred, you were nervous about an exam that was worth thirty percent of your final grade. While everyone else spent hours before the exam cramming, you were busy reorganizing the contents of your desk.
Request: Reader x jughead where you are there when they take him in and support him through everything lots of love ❤
A/N: Honestly I feel this one was going to be very short only because I can only imagine the scene in episode 7. I know I wasn’t the only one that wanted to punch Sheriff Keller for trying to pin this on Jughead just because “he grew up in the wrong side of the tracks and has a dead beat dad” ooooohhh I wanted to punch him. The name is Jug. Jughead Jones. Also the reader is bit sassier in this imagine.
Words: 1087 Summary: Juggie gets taken in by Sheriff Keller, and Reader gets to see him and comforts him.
Spoilers: PROTECT JUGHEAD AT ALL COSTS!
Warnings: Jughead crying, like what? No he’s such a happy bean don’t make him cry ever again @ Riverdale Writers.
Fun Fact: Did you know Jellybean, Jughead initials are all FP Jones. Jughead- Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third Jellybean- Forsythia Pendleton Jones
Riverdale the small town that once was the epitome of all that was right in the world. Although growing up, you started seeing Riverdale for what it was, the epitome of everything that was wrong with the world. The police only answered to the Blossoms, The Coopers ran any story they wanted whether it be correct or not. But what shook this town was something much darker.
The story goes, Jason Blossom drowned in Sweetwater River after an early boat ride with his twin Cheryl Blossom. The truth later was revealed that Cheryl was just accompanying her brother across the river so he could escape Riverdale. He was leaving to start a new life with none other than Polly Cooper who was awaiting helplessly for the love of her life not knowing about the murder of the father of her child. Jason’s body was later found with a bullet to the head. There was a murderer out there and no one knew who it was. It could be anyone of the citizens of Riverdale the problem was not finding a needle in the haystack, it was finding a needle in a needle stack.
You, Jughead and Betty took it upon yourselves to try and solve this murder because plenty was being covered up by the adults. Jughead the brooding writer, Betty the innocent, and you the planner.
Finding Intel for this mission was not going to be easy. Trev Brown slipped to Betty that Jason was selling his valuables and drugs. You got close to Cheryl and figured out that things at home, that was a façade, she was miserable and sadly the only one who would stick by her side was now gone. A visit to Polly Cooper in the Sisters of Quiet Mercy a Home for Troubled Youth. We figured out Polly was with child and sadly she didn’t know of about Jason’s murder and that they were planning to run away. There was runaway car with plenty of evidence of a runaway Jason, but just our luck someone burned it.
The theories were endless was it The Blossoms hiring a hit man to rid of the troublemaker son who was tainting their “good” name? Was it Hal Cooper who did not want his daughter with a Blossom because of a long family feud? Did Polly do it after maybe Jason tipping her to her parents so she would be sent away and he could run away alone? Was it Cheryl out of pure jealousy of her brother loving someone else that wasn’t her? Was it Alice Cooper with a grudge to last a lifetime? Was it any football player that couldn’t stand living behind Jason’s quarterback shadow? Even a longshot was it The Lodges claiming their rise at Riverdale? Or the sexual predator Jennifer Gibson who now only answered to Ms. Grundy? Was her sob story correct and her abusive boyfriend found her and mistaken Archie for Jason.
But not even you saw the next events coming up imaginable.
You were talking to Archie by the lockers and Sherriff Keller and Principal Weatherbee escorted your boyfriend Jughead to the police station.
“Call my dad” was all that escaped his mouth and you and Archie nodded.
Archie called his dad, so he could contact FP as you made your way to the police station.
After Sherriff Keller finished speaking to Jughead he let you in, to talk to him.
“I didn’t do it (Y/N)” He claimed as you took a seat across him.
“Of course, I was with you, and I know who you are” you replied while grabbing his hands.
“Those paradise lost kids went to death row because they wore black and they listened to Metallica” He chimed in his wide open trying to hold in tears “I don’t want to be a scapegoat (Y/N)” he continued as a tear escaped and you swiped it with your hand.
“I’m not going to let that happen” you answered as he let out a sigh “all the evidence against you is circumstantial, were going to get you out of here Juggie” you claimed as he squeezed your hands.
“Is my dad even here?” he questioned you with a hope in his eyes.
“Archie’s here” you paused “with his dad, they’re talking to the sheriff” you admitted as he looked down letting go of one of your hands so he could clean up his nose with his jacket and sniffed.
“No one knows where your dad is” you informed Jug as Archie’s dad was fixing things up with the Sherriff and lied about Jughead’s alibi to get him out of there.
“Hey I’m here, and I care and I am not going anywhere Jug” you reassured your boyfriend.
“Thanks (Y/N)” Jughead grabbed your hand and laid a small kiss on it.
“What did Kevin’s dad say to you?” you questioned Jughead and he shifted in his seat.
“Nothing” Jughead muttered.
“C’mon Jug, what is it? You can trust me” you responded.
“He brought up that incident when I was little, the one I told you about, and the fact that Jason and his Goonies bullied me and of course my deadbeat dad as he worded it” he recounted “I am the perfect scapegoat” Jughead continued.
“That Asshole” you retorted “Who does he think he is? Stigmatizing you because of factors that you have no control over” you interjected, the blood in your body boiling.
“Hey, hey calm down, wasn’t it you that said everything was going to be fine” Jughead claimed.
“Well, yeah, but who does he think he’s kidding, he wants a killer, so he’s going to blame someone because of their background, you said it best Jug. We are not our parents, we are who we choose to become” you spoke up as the fire was building up inside of you “You are not getting this pinned on you, I will not let that happen and he-” your rant was interrupted by Sherriff Keller stating that Jughead was free to go.
“You just wasted time on a stereotypical assumption that could’ve been used to actually catch a murderer on the loose” you fired back at Sherriff Keller as Jughead grabbed your wrist taking you away.
“Really (Y/N/N) now you could be a suspect” Jughead pointed out.
“That’ll show him, pining things on my Juggie without any real evidence, plus I have an alibi for July 11” you chimed in as Jughead pulled you in for a hug and placed a kiss on your lips.
hey ! could u please write a young Sirius x reader imagine where Sirius is really in love w her but he tries his best to admit until remus pretends to like her just so Sirius would admit it to her ? Thanksss
A/N: i’m back! i took a couple of days off from tumblr because i was sick and well, my internet wasn’t working anyway. but i’m back now, so i’ll try to write as much as possible before school starts next week. i know i have a lot of ships and requests to do and i am truly sorry if yours won’t make it, but i’m trying my best:) x this is really bad, i’m sorry😤 dealing with writers block
It was right after the Christmas holidays, when everybody was packing up and getting on the Hogwarts express to come back to school, after two well spent weeks with their families.
You had spent this brief vacation with your family at your house, giving and unwrapping presents, eating way too much and making cookies for your friends back at home.
Sirius, on the other hand, spent Christmas at the Potters, after James invited him because he knew he was going to stay at Hogwarts. Sirius actually wasn’t very upset about staying at school for the holiday if you were staying, but however, when he found out you were going home, he accepted to go at the Potters. He made a promise to tell you he had feelings for you before Christmas started, but being the procrastinator he is, he didn’t. He wished he did, though, because he very much missed your presence these two weeks you were apart. Not that you were that close, you just kind of… spent time together from time to time. He missed seeing your beautiful smile and hearing your gorgeous laugh. He mentally slapped himself during vacation because he didn’t tell you how he felt. He wanted to for so long, but when it came to actually doing it, he chickened out. He, Sirius Orion Black, chicken out? Not telling a girl how he felt because he was afraid of rejection? But no, oh no, she wasn’t like any other girl. It was everything about her that made her different from anyone. Maybe he could hold on a bit more and not tell you.
James and Sirius entered the Hogwarts Express, searching for an empty compartment. Although, Sirius was searching for you , but of course, he didn’t say that. Unfortunately, there was no trace of you, and with an amost invisible pout, he sat down in the compartment where his other two bestfriends were.
“Moony, Wormtail,” he said, as a form of greeting.
They started talking about what they did this Christmas and maybe, in a more quiet tone, the upcoming pranks they had in their minds. All their plans for the next semester (Remus talked the most at this part) and then how hungry they were and couldn’t wait for the feast. Sirius’ mind was anywhere else but on their conversation.
“Haven’t told Y/N you fancy her, have you?” Remus asked Sirius, when James and Peter got in a conversation.
He frowned, looking at his bestfriend. “How did you know? I haven’t told anyone,” the black haired said.
Remus plainly rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, out of all the people, you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Sirius sighed. “Well, no, I haven’t. I don’t know if I ever will, though. I don’t seem like the best guy for her.” He shrugged.
“Sirius Black, putting himself down like that? Wow, we must be in a parallel universe,” Moony joked, chuckling.
“Oh, shut up,” Padfoot said rolling his eyes, but a tint of a smile was playing on his lips. Remus, however, had a growing smirk on his face.
It has been a few days since classes went back to normal and the Marauders were in the library, drowning in homework. Sirius was trying to write his essay, but ended up staring blankly at a wall, James was playing with a snitch, Peter was actually writing it and Moony had it done already ー obviously.
In fact, Sirius was so caught up staring at the wall that he hadn’t noticed you walking in the library and sitting at a table not so far away from theirs. He moved his gaze onto you, gulping. Out of all the moments possible, this was certainly not one to tell you how he feels. Not here. Not with his embarrassing friends. All he could do right now was look at your beautiful being, imagining how he would brush his hands through your soft hair,ーmaybe even braid it, if he knew howー how he’d caress his thumb over your cheek, how perfect you’d fit into his arms, how he’d kiss those pink lipsー
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Remus appears next to Sirius, watching Y/N in a dreaming way, more or less imitating Sirius; but he didn’t notice that.
The black haired frowned, looking at his friend. “…Y/N? Of course she is, but… why are you saying that?”
Remus ignored him and instead of answering, he got up from his chair, briskly made his way over to Y/N, sending her his warm, beautiful smile and sat next to her. Sirius’ mouth was slightly open, blank of words. Was… were he and his best friend fancying the same girl?
The Marauders were in the Great Hall, eating lunch. Sirius, James and Peter were all sitting together, but a certain werewolf was nowhere to be found. Though, Sirius had an idea where he could be, and to be frank, he didn’t like that idea at all. Why was Remus, his bestfriend, fancying his crush? Most importantly, why was he trying to make a move when he knew how Sirius was struggling to tell her? This was just wrong. Would a best friend do that?
At last, Sirius spotted both you and Remus, at the Y/H table, sitting next to each other and talking. And laughing. And flirting? Sirius’ jaw clenched and he tried to move his gaze from you and his best friend, but it was impossible. He was angry, but underneath that, he was hurt. He really liked you, but you chose his best friend. Was there still time to confess and let you choose between the two Marauders?
Not trying to be discreet at all, he loudly got up from the bench and went straight at you and Remus. Not needing to catch your attention (because his loud movements already caught it), he looked from Remus to you.
“Could I talk to you for a second, Y/N?” he asked through gritted teeth, not even daring to look at Remus. He was smirking. You looked confused at Sirius, but nodded. You followed him out of the Great Hall, until no student could hear nor see you.
“Well?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
He took a deep breath. Now what? What was he supposed to tell you? It’s been so easy to flirt with other girls, but when it came to you… he was speechless. “I like you,” he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. Your eyes went wide, but he continued. “More than like, actually. I’ve been fancying you for such a long time now that I can’t even keep the count of months it has been. And I was gonna tell you, I was. Before Christmas. But it seems like I’m a coward, so I waited to tell you after Christmas. But my dick of a best friend, Remus, started fancying you? And you seem to like him as well? And I’m just so mad, I could punch him right now, is that what a best friend isー ”
“Sirius!” you interrupted him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He stopped talking, looking into your eyes.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of this,” he says gulping. His eyes move on the wall behind you.
“Remus doesn’t like me,” you say amused. “And I don’t like him.”
“Then why were you two flirting? Were you bored?” he said bitterly the last part.
“Look, we weren’t flirting, but if you’re trying to say that I’m that kind of person I should just leave,” you say, taking your hands off his shoulders.
“No, Y/N, come on. You know I wasn’t saying that.” He took your hand in his. “I’m sorry,” he said a lot softer. “So… you like me too?” he asked, a cheeky grin on his face.
“Maybe.” You smirked.
“Well, would you like to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?”
Just a short imagine I wrote while I was bored and wanted to post it :)))) This is not edited or proofread, so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes. I know this is kind of a ‘basic’ topic but I really wanted to write about it so, here you go:)
Warnings: None :)
Word Count: 2196
He sat in front of you as he waited for his coffee. You were so excited to see him. He just got out of the airport and happened to see you in the coffee shop you usually did your school work at. You wanted so badly to hug and kiss him. But you couldn’t. You were in public.
His management doesn’t allow him to go public with you. He’s begged his manager many time over the past three years to finally let him be able to hold your hand in public and take you out on a date. Let him walk around with you. But he always just got the answer “After this comeback” to receive “Not yet, ask again next year”. One of the other managers finally explained to him that they wanted to keep the image going for the boys. Wanted to keep them single to the public to ‘keep their fans’. They explained that if one of them had a girlfriend, some fans will stop supporting, causing future albums and comebacks to go to shit. When the other boys stated they didn’t care and wanted to see their leader happy, they refused to listen, keeping Jaebum on close watch. Making sure he didn’t leak any information. That’s why you’re a secret.
Or not so much. To the public eye, and to his fans, you were just his best friend. Close to the other members but his best friend. Knowing him since before his debut, everyone knew you. Fans asking about you on his Vlives or in person, answering questions about you in interviews or to other idols to clear things up, which always broke his heart and just wanted to yell she’s the love of my life! Some fans even openly shipped you two. Telling you that they want you guys together when they saw you out and about. Everyone knew you, just not the way he wanted you to be known as.
He didn’t mean for the first time you guys saw each other, after two and a half long months, to be in public. Since you lived barely a mile away from the airport, he decided to walk to your house, get some fresh air. He saw you in the coffee shop and couldn’t wait another minute longer. Two and a half months was long enough. He walked in, very quickly let me tell you, almost tripping on his feet. When you looked up from your textbook and notes, about to make sure the clumsy person was okay, you froze looking into those soft brown eyes you’ve only been able to see through your small phone lately. You quickly got up, forgetting where you were and that you needed to keep your cool, knowing some fans or even paparazzi must’ve followed him. He gave you a sad smile, before walking the rest of the distance and hugging you lightly.
What he really wanted to do was hug you so tightly, you’d turn red and your bones would hurt. He wanted to twirl you around to hear that soft giggle he lives so much. He wanted to kiss those lips he loves and misses so much. He wanted to not let go. But he had to. Because you were in public.
After the moment where he inhaled your scent, something he hadn’t realized he missed until then, he hesitantly pulled away. He pointed to your seat and you sat down while he went to order a drink. You shuffled to put your stuff away, dropping a few things, but you didn’t care. Your boyfriend of three years was here.
And that’s what led up to now. You guys sat across each other, studying each other. His brown hair, messy from his hoody. His brown eyes slightly swollen and his two little moles right below his eyebrow. His slightly chapped lips that he’s licked a few times in the past minute. His eyes staring at your features, taking in your appearance. Your lips red and swollen from biting them in concentration so much. Your hair down and in its natural state. You eyes red from your lack of sleep.
He opens his mouth to speak but his cut off by the middle aged women bringing his coffee. “Here you go young man.” She kindly smiles as she sat the coffee down. She turns to you, her smile still bright. “You want your regular, sweetie?”
“Yes please, thank you Evelyn.” You smile as she nods and walks away. When she’s out of sight you finally look back to your boyfriend who’s been staring at you the whole time. You smile shyly, your cheeks heating up.
“With how long we’ve been together, you’d think you wouldn’t blush because of me anymore.” He smiles softly as he takes a sip of his steaming coffee.
“People say if you still have that effect on your significant other, that’s how you know they’re in love.” you shrug and leaning your elbow onto the table, chin on your palm.
He raises an eyebrow as his smile becomes wider, eyeing you. “So you’re in love? With who?”
“Just some guy. Super cute and tries to act like he’s not super soft when he really his. I miss him lots.”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He challenges as he leans back into his eat, arms crossed over his chest.
“Because we’re in public and we’d both probably get our heads chopped off if I do something about it.”
His smile drops slightly with your statement. He knew it was a joke, but he also knew how much it hurt you to be kept a secret. He knew deep down you were hurting with that statement, slight hate towards his job for not letting you guys be together publicly. But he also knew that you wouldn’t ever complain about it, because you knew it was his dream job. And you loved him too much to make him choose.
He sighs and leans forward, his arms crossed on the table. He looks up into your soft eyes that glow with the light that shines above you both. He looks at your smooth skin and flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry I put you through this crap, baby girl. I didn’t mean for me to surprise you here. I was walking to your place and saw you and I just couldn’t wait. Even though I basically am since I can’t even fucking touch you after waiting so damn long. I tried talking to them aga-”
“Babe, it’s fine. I’m glad you came here. As long as I get to see you, I’m okay.” You smile softly as you look up in time for the coffee and thank her quietly before looking back to Jaebum. “How long are you back for?”
“Three months. Maybe even longer. We’re just going to be preparing for a comeback.” He nods as he takes another sip of his coffee.
“I’m really happy you’re back.”
And you were. You weren’t unhappy with Jaebum at all. You loved him with all your heart and wouldn’t change that if you could. You did hate the fact that you could’t kiss him and if you could, you’d run away right now. You’d run away to a cabin in the woods where you;d be all alone. Just the two of you forever, you two in a little cabin watching the sun set and rise every day. You’d spend the day with just the two of you, walk around without anyone seeing and having to be cautious of everything you did around him. You wanted to have a normal relationship so badly it hurt. But you loved him too much, and if he was happy, you were happy. He’d never know how bad this hurt you to not be able to have a normal relationship with the man you loved since you were eighteen years old. You’ve wanted to gloat to people about you’re relationship and brag about how you found the perfect man in your childhood best friend. But you couldn’t.
“I know this hurts you Y/N. I know it does but you don’t want to say anything because you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I want you to talk to me about it.”
“Jae, stop. Not here.” You mumble. The cafe is nearly empty except for another couple by the window in the front. The workers talking and not paying attention to the two of you.
“I want you to tell me how much you hate it. How much this hurts not just me but you too. Tell me how you want me to fix this. I hate seeing the way your eyes get glossy whenever we’re in public because we have to act like we haven’t been in love for the past three years. I want nothing more than to wipe those emotions away but I need you to talk to me. Don’t worry about me or about the fans or my job. Worry about yourself and talk-”
“Fine, Jaebum! I hate sitting here across from you and having to act like you mean nothing more than a friend to me. I hate how I have to act like this doesn’t bother me that I can’t kiss you or hug you more than ten seconds after I have’t seen you for nearly three months. I hate that your management basically controls our relationship and I hate that to the public eye I’m just some friend. I want people to know how much I love you. But I can’t do that.”
He stares into your watery eyes and licks his lips. His eyes forming tears he wish weren’t caused because of his job. “Baby girl, I wish nothing more than to be able to kiss you right now. Or anywhere for that matter. I don’t want to have to hide our relationship either baby. I -”
“It’s not your fault Jae.” You sigh and grab your bag. “I’m going to start heading home. You coming?” You ask him as you stand up and trudge your bag onto your shoulder.
Jaebum bites his lip and nods. He knows you don’t like to talk about this. Especially not in public where you guys can’t comfort each other. He sighs as he gets up. You were already out of the door, walking slowly by the window, waiting to hear the door open and close before continuing to walk to your house.
You’re about to cross the street when you feel someone tug on your arm pulling you back about a foot. You turn around expecting to see Jaebum’s worried face, thinking you were about to walk in front of a car.
But no. You were met with the soft lips of your boyfriend’s, smacking into yours. You gasp a bit before kissing him back, your hands flying to his face. His hands lay on your waist and he brings you closer. You hear gasps and squeals come from across the street or in the coffee shop. The sound of clicks and flashes coming from across the street are what pulled you back to reality. You pull away from him with a gasp, your hands now on his shoulder. His eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. “Jae…” You whisper as you stare into his eyes. He smiles softly at you and kisses your nose.
“I’m not hiding you anymore. I’m not going to let this hurt us anymore. It’s my relationship and I just kissed you in front of a bunch of paps who followed me from the airport, so there’s no going back on it now.” He shrugs and his smile widens as he pulls you closer, your body flush against his as he wraps his arms rund your body. Finally holding you the way he wanted. Finally kissing you after so long.
“Did you know-”
He nods before you can finish, interrupting you with a kiss. “ I heard them behind me when I was walking, When you walked out of the shop I saw them again and needed to do this.”
“Your managers and the boys-”
“The boys will understand. They’ve been encouraging me to do this the past two weeks when they found out I was surprising you. As for the management.” He shrugs and looks across the street, smiling and waving at the fans who squealed and waved. “They’ll have to deal with it. I don’t know what they’ll do. But until then, I want to hang out with the love of my life and cuddle her. I want to make up for the lost time. I’m with you. I love you. You mean the world to me and I can’t lose you.”
You smile brightly and pull him into a tight hug. “You were never going to lose me.”
He pulls away and grabs you hand. “Now let’s get away from them. I want to be alone with you.”
You smile brightly as he runs with you trailing behind him. You hear the girls yell for him and you. Yelling that they love you. He laughs and looks back at you. Happy because you’re in public.
You cursed yourself for believing that Kylo would still be there.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Kylo said as he walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed but not yet wearing his helmet. He threw you a clean towel, “Shower up. Hux has detected storms on our course back so we’ll need to leave as soon as possible.”
You were still trying to process that fact that Kylo had stayed in your bed all night when you were faced with the realisation that you would have to say goodbye to your family soon. The sorrow you felt on the last occasion still seemed so raw, and yet it was also so long ago.
Kylo saw the frown displayed quite clearly on your face. “I told you, you don’t have to come back—”
“And I told youthat I want to come back,” you said, flashing him a half-hearted smile. But before he could respond, you went into the bathroom.
“Cheer up, Princess, I’m sure Ren will convince the Supreme Leader to have another one of these ‘diplomatic missions’ with your planet in the near future,” Hux teased.
“That’s enough, Hux,” Kylo responded calmly. Almost too calmly. It was as if he was trying particularly hard not to lash out at him at that very moment.
You could sense Kylo’s gaze on you, though you couldn’t be sure with his helmet on. You turned away from both of the men, fixing your stare on the ground of the Command Shuttle.
Saying goodbye to your family hadn’t been as hard as you imagined it would be. It seemed that your training had been useful in helping to contain your emotions in situations like these.
So at this moment, when you had expected yourself to be feeling sad after leaving your family, all you felt was confusion. You were confused at yourself for refusing to accept Kylo’s offer and stay on your home planet. But mostly, you were confused about why Kylo would even offer such a thing.
You finally felt as if you and Kylo were actually making some progress. Ever so slowly, he was beginning to open himself up to you. You sharing your bed last night was evidence of that. Certainly, nothing had actually happened between you two, but it felt like a step in the right direction. Whether this was a friendship blossoming between you two or perhaps something more, you were just thankful that something was happening.
That’s when you felt it. The familiar tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach. The same one that you had felt when you had first met Kylo over a month ago in your palace’s throne room.
You furrowed your brows as you looked over to Kylo, almost certain that it had something to do with him. In that same moment, he also looked to you, as if he too felt the same thing.
Hux’s exclamation snapped you from Kylo’s gaze and you stood up, “What is it?”
“The engine is failing,” Hux told you. The Shuttle dipped as if in response to him and you steadied yourself.
“Why?” Kylo spoke this time, marching towards the cockpit.
The pilot, quite clearly frightened with both the General and the Commander towering over him, managed to stutter a response, “I-I’m n-not sure…It’s p-possible that debris from the storm has become… s-stuck in the e-engine…Sir.”
You made your way towards the cockpit, “Is there anything we can do?”
“I-I’m afraid not, Y/N—”
“Your Highness,” Kylo spat.
You raised an eyebrow and looked to Kylo incredulously. Now really wasn’t the time.
“S-sorry, Your Highness,” the pilot correct himself, “There’s nothing that can be done this far from Starkiller Base. The engine’s functioning capacity is dropping too quickly.”
“I don’t even know where we are,” Hux muttered to himself, “I’m going to die, and I don’t know where we are,” panic was laced in every word he said.
You rolled your eyes, “We are not going to die, General.” You turned back to the pilot, “What is your name?”
He seemed taken aback by your question, but quietly spoke, “James, Your Highness.”
You smiled, “Call me Y/N, I insist.” He nodded slowly.
“Can you make a safe landing anywhere James?” You asked him, pleased that you were able to keep calm despite the very real possibility that Hux was right and you were all about to crash land somewhere.
He studied the radar carefully before pointing to a small dot on the screen, “I can send us into Hyperdrive with just enough power to land safely on this planet—”
“Not there,”Kylo interjected.
“This is not the time to be childish Ren, you can’t pick and choose!” Hux snapped at him.
You sighed, there was obviously a reason behind Kylo’s desire to avoid that planet. “Is there anywhere else?”
“Nowhere,” James responded with absolute certainty.
You looked at Kylo carefully, though the helmet gave nothing away. You turned back to face the radar, “We will all die if he doesn’t land here,” you thought.
There was a momentary pause. “So be it,” you heard Kylo’s voice in your head before he stormed out of the cockpit.
You gave James a quick nod and he sent the Shuttle into Hyperdrive while Hux let out a sigh of relief.
“What happens when we land, James?” You asked him, though you feared you knew the answer.
“We will be stranded there until a First Order starship can retrieve us.”
“How long will that take?”
“It could be hours… or days, possibly longer,” Hux responded absent-mindedly, it appeared as if the panic had once more set in.
You sighed but nodded your head curtly before leaving the cockpit.
You found Kylo pacing quickly, mumbling something under his breath.
“Is everything all right?”
“What do you think?” He responded, letting out a frustrated huff.
You crossed your arms, “I’m only trying to help. You don’t have to snap at me.”
“I don’t need your help, I’m fine.”
“You’re clearly not fine, it sounded as if you would rather die than land on that planet!”
“Death doesn’t scare me.”
“Don’t speak like that, you don’t mean it,” you said through gritted teeth.
“You know nothing of how I feel.”
“Then tell me!” You exclaimed. So much for the two of you making progress.
A few moments passed between you in silence, but when Kylo spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, “The planet we’re going to. It was once one of the most sacred sites of the Jedi Order,” Kylo sighed, “Death doesn’t scare me. But just the thought of losing you to the Light terrifies me.”
Tag List(Send me a message if you want to be included!)
noticed the marks for the first time after the Gryffindor – Slytherin Quidditch
Match in Second Year. There were spots of grey all over his skin. When he told
Hermione about them the next day she just looked at him confused.
heard of such a thing.” She told him. “But I’ll do some research.” Harry just
smiled and shook his head. “I’ll do it on my own.” After all it seemed like no
one but he could see them, at least none of the Gryffindor boys had asked about
them in the locker rooms after the match.
He had soon
forgotten about them again, however, as there were more pressing matters, like
finding out where the strange voice only he seemed to hear came from. He only
started researching them when Hermione told him in fourth year that they could
be a sign of some creature blood he had and maybe that would help him in the
found wasn’t that he had Creature blood but rather that he had a soulmate.
“These markings appear wherever your soulmate touches
you and can have any colour. Most often the colour can be connected to one’s
soulmate. The markings will disappear after a few hours.”
sighed. At least that mystery was solved now. But it created another. Who
exactly was his soulmate? His first guess was a Slytherin, grey was almost
silver after all, but that couldn’t be, right? Slytherins and Gryffindors hated
noticed the markings for the first time he slumped down on his bed and started
crying. “They hate me…” he sobbed into his pillow. “They hate me, they hate me,
they hate me…” the markings were a dull green and Draco knew the brighter the
colours were, the more loving the touch had been.
undressed after the final battle, it was the first time Harry really noticed
the markings again. So far they had always been a dull dark grey but now they
were almost sparkling silver reflecting in the light shining through the
windows. And he knew only of one person, who had touched him like that today,
arms around his waist, and chest to his back, clinging to him for dear life.
Draco Malfoy was his soulmate.
looked at his palm for long seconds. He had noticed the markings earlier
already but until now, after the final battle, in the privacy of his own bed,
he didn’t have time to really realize what they meant.
They weren’t dull anymore, but glowing emerald green. His soulmate didn’t hate
him anymore. At least not when he had touched him and pulled him onto his broom
in the Room of Requirement. His soulmate was Harry Potter.
already been back home – no matter how little the Manor felt like home, it
still was in a way – for a few days when he finally took out some parchment and
wrote a letter to Harry Potter. It simply said: We need to talk. –Draco.
The use of his
first name was a peace offering he hoped Potter – no, Harry - would accept.
reached him only hours later, brought by a young eagle owl. He hadn’t expected
it to be Harry’s reply; he had always had a snowy owl, hadn’t he?
But it was
and it was just as short as his initial message had been.
I agree. Tell me when and where you want to
meet and I’ll be there. -Harry
sighed relieved. He had expected Harry to choose a location what would have led
to problems as he wasn’t sure whether he was welcome anywhere in Wizarding
Britain right now.
They met a
few days later in a small café in Muggle London. The first thing that Draco
noticed when Harry walked in was that he looked dead. Like killing Voldemort
had been his only purpose, his only reason to live and that now he only waited
for death to finally take him. But Draco presumed he couldn’t very well hold
that against him as he was sure he was looking just as terrible after getting
Howlers almost every hour of the day, telling him what a despicable human being
he was. He knew that he was. He knew that he had made all the wrong choices and
he regretted it. He didn’t need people to tell him what he already knew, in
fact he was sick and tired of it, but there was no place he could hide from it
so he endured it.
decided not to breach the topic but get right to the matter at hand.
soulmates.” He stated.
flopped down in his seat opposite of Draco and nodded. “It seems so.”
means that there is some chemistry between us, right? No matter if it’s good or
bad, it’s there.”
definitely is.” Harry sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on the table. “I
mean, we were practically obsessed with each other all throughout Hogwarts.”
very surprised that he managed to have a serious conversation with Harry. Even
though the war had been over only for a matter of weeks, it seemed to have
already changed them quite a bit.
think we could turn that chemistry, that obsession, around?” he dared to ask.
immediately, no.” Harry replied in a serious but gentle tone. Draco wondered
how he managed to do that. “It takes a lot for me to trust people and to me
trust is one of the fundamental bases of a relationship. And right now, I don’t
trust you as far as I can throw you. But I think we both changed, otherwise I
would have either suspected you to have some nefarious motive behind meeting me
or we would be at each other’s throats already – maybe even both. So I think we
could try and be civil to each other, like we are right now. Maybe we could
even become friends or more.”
smiled at that unintentional leak of information. Harry was still way too
liberal about who he told what. “So, you’re not straight?”
just smiled like what Draco had discovered didn’t bother him in the least.
bisexual,” he told him instead, as openly as can be. “And you’re very
attractive. So as soon as we’re both ready we could try and be boyfriends.”
sounds like a decent plan. Very unlike the ones you had at Hogwarts.”
plans. I just jumped straight in because the adults were simply incapable of
doing something it seemed to me so I took matters into my own hands.”
chuckled but had to agree. Sometimes it had seemed to him as if the staff wanted the students – or Harry and his
friends specifically – to solve the school’s problems in their stead.
“It was very
nice talking to you, Harry,” Draco said after a few more minutes of pleasant
and light chatter between the two of them. “But I fear I have to go now. Would
it be possible for you to meet me here again in a week’s time?”
Draco. I’m looking forward to it.”
hands and both watched fascinated as their palms slowly turned the colour of
the other’s eyes.
Harry.” Draco said, still a little dazed.
Draco.” Harry replied and walked away with a smile.
Prompt: New York City is your own weekend mistress.
Author’s Note: This was heavily inspired by the movie ‘Before We Go’ (which is on Netflix, you should watch it!). Title taken from TL5Y, because I love that musical with all my heart. This is probably as close to angst as I will write.
It seemed that every person’s mission in New York was to make you miss your train.
You had it all planned out, too. An itinerary sat unused in your purse, your meticulously timed day was off to a late start with the first item. Checking out of your hotel.
You gave yourself twenty minutes for this. Collect your bag - which had been carefully packed the night before - and turn in your keys. A particularly difficult family ahead of you and an excruciatingly slow computer decided against your twenty minute window.
A/N: Day two of @hamwriterswrite-a-thon! This was femslash day and I ended up backing out of my original idea and going with this one. I’m really proud of it. I hope you enjoy it! It’s my first female fic, so I’m not sure if this will be amazing. Thank you to@sunshinemirandafor proofreading this!
“HA!” Your brother’s laugh rang through his office, reaching your ears from the living room. You paused your reading momentarily to roll your eyes. Even after all these years, he sure was something else. “Y/N! Come get a load of this!”
You silently cursed before setting down the book onto the coffee table. You stood, your green skirt swishing with your steps. “Coming, Alexander.”
i dont mean to butt in with the usual topic during this time, but do you really think sex work is no different from other jobs to the extent that a disproportionate amount of them would leave the industry compared to other jobs if income stopped being an issue? if so, how do you explain sex work being seen as a last resort even in societies where it's not/was not stigmatized? also, why does the idea of having to do sex work make me much more uncomfortable than the idea of virtually any other job
i know you’re relatively new because I used to talk about this ALL
until it got really boring and I switched to one direction or whatever
yes, I really do think sex work CAN BE the same as any other job. For me sex is not a uniquely meaningful experience; sex does not affect my perception of my value or self worth; sex does not make me feel like I’m giving pieces of myself away. Sex feels like physical labour that can be enjoyable or can be tiresome and uncomfortable or can be all of the above and even painful.
sex for me is a neutral. it’s a physical act. It’s imbued with different meanings depending on the contexts of the physical act and the repercussions it has, but it is no more or less meaningful TO ME than getting or giving a massage, except that I get paid for it.
Sex is not a neutral to many people. Most people are brought up to believe–especially women!–that sex impacts their value, the state of their souls, the integrity of their bodies, and their self worth.
I think that’s profoundly destructive and misogynist, ESPECIALLY since this standard is not one men are held to. Very few people expect men to find sex especially meaningful, a uniquely meaningful act that has repercussions for their morals and ethics and values and how they are valued by others.
for men, sex gets to be as close to a neutral as it can be, altho there are still internalised traces of toxic masculinity that raise their ugly heads.
I’ve done a lot of different kinds of labour, and a lot of it made me feel degraded, undervalued, and abused. probably the worst was working for the State Bureau of Labour for 40 hours a week for 15/hr and having people tell me I should be grateful for making so much, but rapidly realising it didn’t even cover my bills. it covered rent and one bill and didn’t stretch to food, phone, car insurance, or anything else. I was exhausted all the time, the job I was there to do, the job I helped create and lobby for, the job that would have been to help other sex workers learn about their legal labour rights, was dismissed by everyone at BOLI as unnecessary and allowed to quietly die while my boss treated me like shit, like a stupid little girl (I was not the only one she made cry frequently) and my union leader talked about my tits and didn’t help me with my boss.
That was the most degraded and destroyed I have ever felt in a working situation. It almost made me miss the club I sued because at least THERE i was making enough to live and had free time left over for the things that make life meaningful. After I quit, they let my job die and didn’t hire anyone else, even tho legally it was funded for two years. That money disappeared. I also found out that they had helped cover up police involvement and the state liquor control commission involvement in a child sexual exploitation case. I tried to get news outlets interested and no one cares. THAT was demoralising.
why do people want to leave sex work? because we’re terrified of losing our homes or financial aid or families’ love or custody of our kids or our lives.
ask someone in a state where it’s decriminalised if they want to leave sex work and you’ll get a different answer.
sex work is the only job available to me that allows me to pay my rent, bills, and tuition with some extra work, and also leaves me time to do the things that make my life meaningful: advocacy, organising, letting people know they aren’t alone, that we’re in this together, that we can fight back.
why does it make you uncomfortable?
because you’ve imbued sex with a metaphysical meaning and you think that having sex will change you somehow if you don’t have it under the right circumstances.
but everything changes you.
having your union leader sexually harass you changes you.
knowing you can choose between eating grits again or buying more cream for your tea changes you.
having to put groceries back at the checkout counter changes you.
knowing that if you lose your house know one will help you or care and the waiting list for shelter is 1800 people long changes you–it’s terrifying and inhumane and both those facts make YOU want to change THAT and not let THAT change you.
there are worse things to happen to people than sex or sex work.
bad sex happens all the time, anywhere. sexual assault happens when you’re a baby and can’t control it, or it happens walking home from the corner store when someone grabs your crotch.
none of those things demean or degrade WHO and WHAT you are, even if they change you.
my integrity and my worth is not located in my cunt even if I use it as a purse I can pull money out of when all else fails.
I get to help people; I get to feed people and give them ways to keep themselves safe and spend time trying to advocate for better conditions for them. I get to talk to sex workers around the world about the different ways we’re vulnerable and can be hurt, and I get to hear success stories (mostly from the global south) about rights and protections being won. I get to fund my education for my eventual escape career as a baby killing/low income family nurse practitioner.
there’s no other job in the states that would give me the power to do all this. money is power and the closest thing we have to freedom.
maybe you were just born into so much security and money that you’ve accepted it all and everything else they’ve told you about your worth and safety and that’s why t makes you uncomfortable. I don’t know you, how could I possibly know?
sex is whatever, sex is a neutral, sex work is a job.
the things that make sex work BAD and SCARY and HARMFUL are the power imbalances that favour men and law enforcement over me, my body, and my lived experience. if I wasn’t at the wrong end of a socially sanctioned power imbalance where I’m seen as asking for everything bad that happens to me and undeserving of even basic housing, I might do this job a lot longer.
Ah, Alfie!!! Right, so maybe one where the reader meets Tommy and they don’t get along in the slightest. Tommy makes digs about Alfie so the reader says stuff about grace but Alfie finds the situation funny. Thank you x
ALFIE REQUEST HERE!! Can you do one where The shelbys are super bloody surprised to find out that ALFIE actually has a wife? And they found out cause she had to have a meetjngn with them because Alfie was doing business elsewhere and sent his wife cause he trusts her most to be his eyes ears and voice when it comes to business?